Det är trevligt att bor i Sverige.

The title of this post means "it is nice to live in Sweden". I learned that today in Swedish class. Not that it is nice to live in Sweden, just how to say it, you know. I learned that it is nice to live in Sweden today in my Comparative Public Policy: Sweden and the EU class, and by reading newspapers about whats happening at home (total economic meltdown and the completely masses of ignoramuses that have somehow, against all reason, put Mccain ahead in the polls), and also by looking around this country and realizing that, more or less, its fucking sweet. Im not naive enough to think this is utopia, it's not, and Sweden has its fair share of political issues, economic potential issues, and social awkwardness (as discussed in the last post), but more or less, its a beautiful country with a high standard of living, beautiful people, a standardized and well-funded education system, a relative meritocracy, incredible social services, 6 weeks of paid vacation mandated by the state, and damn decent coffee. This sort of political teeth gnashing, however, is so NOT why you read Das Blogg, and not why I write it. I shall instead tell you of last weekends shenanigans in more detail, and discuss my plans for the week. Thats a more uplifting subject. P.S. I swear if Sarah Retard Palin ends up as our VP (and consequently Pres when McCain finally succumbs to cancer, heart problems, and generally being really fucking old) then I swear, i am moving here, canada, mexico, or generally any other country where having a vagina is not considered having political credentials).
Last weekend...GO!
Friday Night:
Friday night we went out for Shaun and Julia's birthdays, and it was saweeeet! We went over to the DUVBO kidz apartment to get the party started, then we went out to a bar called H62 ( i think... but we got the party started a little harder than perhaps was appropriate so im not totally positive about the name) and it was more or less a blast. We got there, there was a tiny, foggy, strobe light-y, epilepsy-inducing dance floor where we all tried to dance to Swedish "music". Obviously we all bugged out big time when ODB came on over the airwaves, and we were the only ones. Mostly, everyone else just looked uncomfortable at the idea of an actual beat that might require actual dancing as opposed to the rock side-to-side and fist pump (a standby). We drank vodka and redbulls (which are, thank god, just called vodka and redbulls), and took ridiculous pictures, and more or less celebrated like champs. I also tricked a cute Swede into hanging with me for the night with my oh so devious American manipulations and that charming drunk face that anyone who is reading this (with the exception of my mom...) has a visual of burned into their brains. Katie and I went back to Brommaplan, where we found that Rasmus Grill, the oh-so-delicious grill place right by our apartment, is open at least till 4am. This was more or less the best news since Jesus said we could achieve redemption retrospectively and still get hooked up with Heaven. Rasmus Grill, as with all grills here, generally serves "Kebab med bröd" (kebab in a pita), korv (hotdogs), and other really good Swedish drunk food. Rasmus is also basically the watering hole for every drunk person 30 and under in Stockholm, or at least it seems that way around 3 am. Anyway, it was a solid night.

Saturday: Katie and I awoke at 7am. Why would we EVER do this you ask? Oh, maybe because our program director doesnt know anything about anything and has lied to us or been wrong every step of the way about our laundry so we haven't been able to do it since we've been here and are on our last outfits (like, actually last) and so we were finally able to sign up for a time slot that was 7am-10am. Thing is, the janitor locks the laundry with a special key before 9am and after 9pm. No one told us this. Why there is a time slot before the laundry is open is beyond my fucking comprehension, except that it might just be a sick joke on our life. Needless to say, we walked all the way there, only to come back, sleep for an hour, get up to try again at 8am, fail, and go back to sleep till 12. It was SKIT SNACK (which, btw, means bullshit). ok anyway.
We decided we needed to redeem our morning, and also that we couldnt be total bums and not leave our apartment all day, even though we were really hungover. SO we decided to go to Djurgarden, which is a separate island in the archipelago where there are sweet museums and gardens. When we got to T-Centralen, however, we realized there was an International Food Festival going on. More like International FUN Festival!!! No seriously it was beyond my wildest dreams. It is pretty small, but its like, a giant sensory orgasm. Smells, colorful sights, the olive natzi yelling at you, oh man, I live for shit like that. We ate a buttload of delicious foods, and that was more or less our day. We had to get back, you see, because we had been invited to a "fjorfest" or something, which is more or less pregaming. This guy Vidar Sandie (one of my main bitches) went on a date with was like, trying to play it off like it was a "traditional Swedish Fjorfest", as if it were some cultural phenomenon. Its just pre-gaming. We had a fantastic time tho, obviously, because I brought some of my MAIN HOES aka Katie, Sandia, Inslee, and Kayla, and we hung with Pablo and Kristjian (im going to spell his name differently every time i write it to indicate that I have no idea how to spell it, even though we are facebook friends), and had flatliners, and played guitar hero, and generally had a good time. Kayla was mistaken for a prostitute while waiting on a street corner, which was also funny. She is kind of a whore. JK
So blah blah we tried to go to some parties, but there was a long line at this med school party, so we decided to meet up with our Swedish Program friends at this incredibly awesome bar that is more or less an underground cave-like atmosphere with big wax candles dripping, and a medieval Irish theme. Its so badass. There was a killer duo rocking out on the bagpipes and the hurdygurdy, and we drank mead... yes... mead (mjöd) and it was so much fun.
Last night (Tuesday) Katie, Sandie, Inslee, Kayla, and I went over to Corey and Omid's apartment where we met up with Mike and Adam and made delicious Danish delicacies (get it alliteration!!) that Sandie ate as a kid (she is a hot Dane). We drank alot of wine, cried as we shredded onions, made incredible meat type things, potatos, asparagus. It was a lovely night in.

PLANS FOR THIS WEEK
Tonight: PUBNIGHT at the Universitetet. Here is should be dually noted that this pubnight does not compare, nay, cannot hold a candle to Pubnight at Swat. There is nothing I love more or miss more than drinking free natty light with the loves of my life at Swarthmore, wearing whatever I was doing homework in when I "wasnt going to go" 30 min before, while listening to the same songs, dancing on chairs, playing flip cup/quarters, and getting beer spilled all over me. Pubnight here is like a club; bars, dance floor, everyone dressed up to go out, long lines to get in, paying for drinks. Nonetheless, its a reasonably good time, and I didnt go last week (so of course, im over due) Too bad I have 9 o'clock Theory and History of Radical Politics with Jonas. Oh well.
Tomorrow: School, International FUN Fest (it lasts all week) for lunch, home to try to do laundry again, and then plans with Pablo.
Friday: 9am flight to GOTLAND with the group. This is a huge viking island off the southeast coast of Sweden, where there are basically a ton of viking museums, paraphernalia, boating sundries, etc. There will probably be a lot of raw meat eating, "kub" playing (sticks thrown at other sticks, if you're recall), öl (beer) drinking, raping, pillaging, u know, the usual viking activities. Ill be back on sunday, but will be super out of touch while I'm there, presumably. I'll have to like, socially interact for excitement. Lame. Afterall, social interactions is for squares and Mormons.
Thats all for now. I miss you all terribly, love you, want you in my pants, and will talk to some of you soon soon soon on le skype. Or in my dreams.
Workupine- if you are reading this, keep the pepper suit ready for me, and get ready for testy festy. ill be there with bells on. bells to repel the grizzly bears. and for decoration. xo

PS

P.S. Im retarded and dont know how to post photos yet but I'm working on it I swear, and then you will see some of the goodness. Also, see facebook for some gems that will be coming shortly. Ive done a bunch of fun shit I didnt write about in my blog, but you can see evidence of those things via the fatchbook photos. k

also im listening to really inspiring gospel music right now and i was rocking out a little more than I meant to and i leaned back in my chair in the student center/library, fell out of my chair, yelled "fuck", and fully made a fool out of myself in front of like 600 serious, studious Swedes. It was alot like the time i fell off the Eliptical at school checking out a boy. Those of you who will there will remember that. good times.

SKIT SNACK!!!

Firstly, I'd like to apologize for being the worst blogger in the history of blogospheria. My only excuse, is that I can't possible write about my fun adventures if im in here blogging instead of out having them.
SO, I have come to one very important conclusion in the time I have been here: Swedes are a mystical and magical people whose powers include lightspeed metabolisms, ironclad livers, and the ability to make you feel incredibly awkward all the time. Allow me to elaborate.
When I say everyone here is beautiful, I dont mean everyone is a serious boner-inspiring hottie, but I do mean that there are no ugly people. I mean seriously, the general average attractiveness level is at least 4 times that of Americans. I saw a homeless woman the other day (there are like, 6 in the whole city because its illegal to be homeless) and I swear, I didnt know she was homeless until she asked me for money, because she was dressed like most Americans you would see walking around New Haven. If she wasnt wandering around disoriented, I probably would have asked where she got her sweater. I wish I was joking. Everyone is a blonde bombshell in a leather bomber jacket, boots, skinny jeans (and by skinny, i mean actually skinny, because despite having like 25 fucking fika's a day, which is where you drink coffee and eat cinnamon buns or assorted pastries, and eating meatballs and mayonnaise at every meal, they are like skeletons with skin, good skin), and a fierce haircut. More or less what I'm saying as at my most put together, i look like a scrub. A big time scrub, like along the order of that art teacher we all had who always looked a hot tranny mess.
ANYHOW, also, they drink alot. Like, a buttload, all the time, and they have this famous shot called a "flatliner", which is exactly as lethal as it sounds. It is half tequila and half sambuca with a dash of hotsauce. Ya, and I swear to you, I swear on all that is holy, it is delicious. I had like 7 the other night with my new swedish friends (more in a second on that) and they were so good in a hot, weird, swedish, warm you because its -111100000 degrees out sort of way.
Also, whenever I am on the Tunnelbana (the subway system), even if I'm talking quietly (and fuck all of you out there who are like "oh ya, claire, ure so good at being quiet. NOT" i serious talk so quietly here, because no one speaks) and yet, people stare at you if you aren't sitting silently staring straight ahead or reading the paper. Swedes are the friendliest people ever once you talk to them, but if you didnt take the chance and strike up a conversation, you would be positive that they hated you, each other, and the world in general. They rarely speak, they are SO awkward, and they seize up socially upon spontaneous interaction. That is why they Fika. Fika literally translates to: "extended social interaction with friends over coffee and a snack". When Swedes run into each other, they have to schedule a fika, because they cant interact or "catch up" socially. Seriously. Needless to say, I am like a gravlax (pickled fish) out of water. Most of you know that I am in the socially aggressive category, and thus I sometimes make Swedes highly uncomfortable, I think. I think its good for them.
SO I just realized I cant tell you about my new Swedish friends because we are now facebook friends and they could be reading this and wouldn't it be awkward if I said, for example, that Pablo was very sexy and Oscar is a party boss and Kristian is a goon, and then they read this? Yes, it would be.
What I can tell you, is that I have been having a fantastic time here in Swedeland, and have learned many a Swedish phrase that I will post in my next entry when I have a Swedish keyboard (I need all those funny letters....) and the language is awesome and not that hard and SUPER goofy, the beer is good, the people are beautiful, and the city is incredible. Its incredibly cool to be in a place that is a social democracy, and understand what that really means. No amount of studying economic political policy can come close to actually living it. More on that another time when my brain doesn't hurt and I can be as dorky about it as I really feel. Ive been to many a bar, had many a good time, walked around the city quite a bit, and heard alot of techno music. I swear, there is a SERIOUS deficit of rhythm in this country. And a surplus of emoticons (for those of you who dont know what those are, god bless you. they are those stupid smiley/winky/sad faces losers and europeans use to demonstrate emotion while texting or typing) Pablo, I love your emoticons, i swear (in case of that situation I discussed before where he reads this...)
Last thing for now:
I miss my friends like Swede's miss the Social Democrats being in office. Basically that means I miss you alot. Every day I think at least once about what is going on at Swat, about the parties, the silliness, the weirdos, the late nights sitting in each others rooms, and more importantly the sunday mornings when we go into someones room to talk about the night before. That is priceless, and I miss you all so much. I also miss Work's pepper suit alot.
Choaties, I miss you all so much. I cant be nearly as mean as I want to be without you guys here. If only I had you all to make my life more fabulous, more hilarious, more truly ridiculous, I would be eternally satisfied. Chris, i know you are going to make fun of me for writing this, but fuck you. I love you all, and i cant wait for our next fabulous vaycaycay where we can GET IT OWN IT HIT IT SWOOSH

I lied. Last thing:
i will be a better blogger from now on, promise. keep reading about my life, because i need constant validation that its interesting. kthanksbye.

Okej, so...

Okej,
So I can't believe this is my first post from Das Sverige (get it swediiiiiiiiiish) and so much has happened already. I will try to give a quick summary, because Im in the library and the keyboard keeps makíng me put swedish symbols on everything and there are many a tall blonde person waiting to use this public computer.
Here's a breakdown of the last few weeks with important details included only:

1) Arrival:
-Ethiopian Air was everything I imagined it could be. It smelled like a farm. An African Farm, where they grow fecal plants. No one spoke english, I was the only non-ethiopian on the plane, and the customs guy in Sweden asked me if I was fleeing the US via Ethiopia. I explained that I was fleeing his ugly face. No i didnt.

2) Grinda:
-The next morning we (meaning the other 33 americans on this crazy adventure) were taken to Camp Grinda (as we camp to call it), also known as an island 2 hours away by ferry that looks like Maine but with fewer lobster shacks and more scurvy-ridden bearded rowboaters. We spent 2 days with nothing to do but bond with each other. It was like being at a really awkward summer camp where there are no activities and everyone is nervously over-sharing about their sex lives in a futile effort to form some sort of early hierarchy and trying to convince everyone subtly that they are really really cool back home in hopes that it will translate. Also, there was an outhouse.
-We learned how to play a traditional viking game called "kub", which is exactly as simplistic and boring as it sounds. One throws a wooden stick at some blocks, or, "kubs" of wood. The vikings recreational options were limited, it seems, to blocks of wood. I think thats why they did so much raping and pillaging.

Ok I have to be honest I dont feel like talking about anymore stuff and I will instead continue to update for the next few days to catch up. More recent developments that are important, however, include the following:
- I lost my wallet (bummer I know, I dont know how it happened, I think it might have been stolen by Somali refugees that harrassed me at a club. I know that sounds racist, but it was scary and they were picking on my just because I was white, which sounds weird because Sweden is like, the whitest place in the history of time, but this club was more or less in the Harlem of Stockholm and I was the whitest person up in there. Oh well)
-My roommmate and I still cant figure out how to do laundry, which is kind of gross, and which is why im wearing a vince sweater dress and uggs in August (oh ya, that and its 40 degrees and I can see my breath...)
-I still dont have regular access to internet, but I can be reached via cell phone... facebook me for the number as I dont want creepers reading my supersweet blögg to stalk me.
-Im still on the prowl for a hot 7 ft swede to bring home, its looking promising.

I will write again shortly and regale you with tales of my language skills as well as the variety of silly swedish things that have happened to me and nasty scandanavian food I have been forced to tolerate. I miss you all immensely.

Ready or not...

I'm sitting in the Rome Airport Hilton (a very classy establishment to be sure) and paying some absurd amount of euros to use the internet. I only had to send one stupid e-mail, but since I have it for the hour, fuck it, I guess I'll blog. Henry, who came with me to Rome to catch his own morning flight to Hamburg, is in the shower, and we just ate completely non-disgusting airport hotel restaurant pizza. My flight to the land of glogg-drinking socialist hooligans is at 5:50am tomorrow which is total bullshit. I was hoping to look fresh and fabulous to meet the other kids on my program, but after 3 weeks of eating 6 course meals and drinking way, way too much wine, thats more or less shot to shit anyway (read: i am like the side of an Italian barn). In thinking about my pending departure/arrival (I could say something profound about how those things always come together or something but Im pretty sure thats been done on 2 halllmark cards and about 1000 feel-good facebook bumper stickers), I have made a few short lists I'd like to share with you. They are the following:
Things that concern me:
1)Gravlax (picked herring enjoyed and heralded by all swedes)
2) Flying Ethiopian Air (why the only flight possible was on Fecal Handed Famine Express I have no idea...)
3) Being shunned by the Swedes for my questionable taste in footwear (namely Uggs)
4) That being at Swat for the last 2 years has seriously impacted my social skills and I havent noticed only because I've surrounded myself with likewise social retards and maintained a deluded confidence in my ability to interact with "others".

Things that I probably didn't bring enough of:
1) socks (i hate socks, but sweden is cold as eskimo balls)
2)condoms (optimistic? yes. deluded? almost definitely. ashamed? not in the slightest.)
3) smiles (jkkkkkkkkkkkkkk)

ok Im done for the night. love you all, and my next blogg will be from SCHVEDEN!!!


p.s. imagine this blogg is like your birthday on the same day as a DU theme party.....and INVITE YOUR FRIENDS!

and by your friends i mean my friends I dont want your creepy friends reading about my adventures. kthanksbye.