So where were we...

Oh yeah...

I get into the bar, and am right away confronted by the kind of Södermalm people that just make the whole world seem really uncool.  The kind of people I want to run up to and shout 'so what if I like sneakers - they're comfortable!  And I wear colors sometimes!  Sue me!'.  But usually I don't, because they're also about 8 feet tall (and in those crazy biker boot things they wear, probably nearly 9) so they're kind of intimidating.

So I mostly wanted to turn and run away, but I'd come this far so I gritted my teeth and approached the bar.  There's a guy and a girl - both have about the same length hair and the same amount of make up and piercings as each other.  And his jeans were so tight a doctor could have checked his boy bits for lumps just by eye-balling the jeans, and I realized I have more fat in my right arm than in her entire body so that was great too.

I asked them if they spoke English, and they were like 'of course'.  Of course!  Well okay, but you probably would have treated me like a a-hole if I just started talking English to you, so I think it's polite to check so don't give me a hard time, okay?  I ploughed on.

I described the Rockstar as best  I could, and they exchanged looks (way, way) over my head that I didn't need to speak Swedish to know that they were thinking not so complimentary things about this crazy fangirl American.  Then they shrugged in that elegant Swedish way and said that it could be about 8 people who play regularly, but there was another open mike night this Thursday which I was welcome to come to.  I drew up the last of my pride and courage and thanked them, and said I would see them then.  The girl said she couldn't wait.  I may be American, but I know sarcasm, you skinny pierced *&^$£^^£. 

So anyway.  Thursday it is.

Fangirl

After the events of this afternoon I was a leeeeetle wee bit afraid this was who I had become.  But then I found this:

Phew.  Am waaaaaay older than the defined age range, and also the Rockstar is a real person who exists.  And I'm not exactly known for shrieking, like a bat or even not like a bad.  So we're good.

Could somebody tell the staff at the bar that please?  *cringing*

Like I said before, I am a music fan first and foremost.  I don't want to run after this guy shrieking, I could give a you-know-what who he's dating or maybe dating or what he eats for breakfast or what color his underwear is, seriously.  But I would kind of like to know his name! 

So I went to the bar where we saw the open mike night.  It was one of those shadowy areas of Södermalm where I can believe what Erik tells me about it being scummy not so long ago.  It gets kind of narrow and steep so there's no open spaces to see much more than a block in front of you, and there's goth kids smoking in doorways (you can so see how the character Salander was supposed to grow up here) and you wouldn't be all that surprised if a vampire was around or something.   Anyway.

I found the bar again all by myself (*high fives self* *realize look like crazy person... clapping*), and even though it wasn't properly open yet because it was still afternoon, but they were getting a delivery of beer or something, so the doors were open.  So I just popped in to have a little look-see.

I thought maybe there would be a poster or something so I'd recognize the guy, get the info I needed and be on my merry way.  But of course there wasn't!  So I slip down these rickety stairs (guess people don't sue for health and safety stuff too much in places like t his!!) and find myself in this little dark, not literally smoky but has that feel, bar. 

It was light out of course because it was day so didn't have quite the atmosphere and you could see it was little dingier than I remembered, but still... I got a little frisson of excitement.  Because I knew he'd been here.

Detectiving...

Unfortunately my "friend" doesn't remember the Rockstar - men!  He calls himself a music fan!  So I need to do a little detectiving to find out more... he's got to be playing again soon, I definitely need to check him out!

His music is kind of bluesy dance rock, like more Rolling Stones than Oasis, you know - really smart and driving and S E X Y.  The kind of music you'd play if you wanted to seduce somebody on a sweaty summer's night and never learn their name... you know that kind of music?

I can't even believe I just posted that !  *blushing*

I can't even remember exactly what he looks like, I just remember this mass of charisma on this tiny stage in a crappy underground bar.

Think I might a walk by that bar and see if the staff know anything... that's not too crazy... right???

Stuff...

I feel a teensy bit stupid about this, but I don't actually know the guy's name (YET)!  It was a open mike night, I went with a "friend" of mine who wanted to show off hometown live music, so I was a leeeeeetle distracted until the Rockstar came on and blew me away... then I was a leeeeetle distracted from my "friend" - argh how do I get myself in these complicated situations!  But it's all fun.  I haven't had so much fun in a while!

It's springtime here in Stockholm (Rain?  What rain?  I know nothing about no stinkin' rain!!) and it's so beautiful and it feels like the right time of year to be starting a new life, you know?  I wonder if the sh*t had gone down with that dude I was once married to in November or something, I would have just sat around quietly on my hands waiting for spring to start fresh - because it really feels right.  Luckily for everybody, it happened when it did. 

18 billion years ago, I was a cheerleader (yeah, yeah, I was *that* girl - I own it!) and we used to get drilled on our routines down to the last second (this is the bit that we never get credit for - everybody sees the cute outfits and the lip gloss and thinks that's all we are, it's an athletic sport I can tell you!).  Anyway, the coach always used to preach timing, timing, timing - if you were a second out, you or your teammate could fall on their face.  So maybe something of that timing I learned got drilled into me, and I even managed to end my marriage at the right time!

Talking of which, there is a rumor going around that it was his decision not mine to end things - just to make it really clear, I threw him out.  Period.  I don't know where weird internet haters with nothing better to do get their intel, but he did not leave me.  His actions made me do it sure, but I heard his begging and anybody who says different can go do something I'm to polite to post here on my blog.  Were you there?  I don't think so.

Update

So I haven't been posting much about the D I V O R C E because not a whole lot is happening.  My lawyer is talking to his lawyer and I'm mostly trying not to think about it.  Because it's damn sad and sucky and horrible and, like I keep saying, I'm all about being positive.  I had to take a stand against stuff I just wasn't going to put up with but still.  I married the guy for life at least I thought I did.  But anyway, he wasn't who I thought he was so I guess I married somebody for life who doesn't exist.

You know what I always wondered about this song?  Why she spells the kid's name out.  I mean, he probably knows his own name.

The guy

Don't panic every body, I haven't gone crazy!

I just went to check out an open mike night with a friend, and one of the artists there blew me away and maybe I got a little hot and bothered for a minute!  But seriously, it was about the music.  And rock music is all about the s-e-x, amiright?  So they are closely interlinked and I don't deny having a little moment, but mostly I just thought wow - I've seen a new stadium star.  And that really excites me, you know?   As a real music fan, actually being present at the birth of an artist that is going to dominate the world  (uhh, not his actual birth, that would be weird and I imagine his mom wouldn't appreciate a random American popping into the hospital and being like 'hey!  big fan!  mind if I watch?).  This guy has more passion and talent in his little finger that most of who I see on MTV these days and I am super psyched that I'm getting to be there at the beginning.

Already searching for more deets on who this guy is and where he's playing next, so keep posted!!

More proof Swedish people are different

So I'm hearing about how at certain special parties in the summer, you have to sing a song about the drink before you drink it.

They're even organized enough to have song books and song sheets about the liquor songs. 

Can you imagine any Americans holding off on a drink to get the song sheet out and have a little tune?  We're more of a down it now, sing about it later kind of people.

The List

Okay, I don't have a picture of this guy, so I need to describe him.

Hot.

That's basically it.  Not even that handsome, exactly, more... hotter than that, if that makes sense.  Just... makes me think things a grown up woman probably shouldn't be thinking.  Or blushing.  Or drooling.  Damn.

He's a musician. I know, I know!  been there and got the T shirt, but it's not like I'm actually going to go there ever.  Way too much on my plate thank you, and I already have a guy that's complicated enough.  Oh and, do I vaguely remember something about an a-hole ex?  Just vaguely, a distant memory that doesn't mean anything even if he's shacking up with the twinky (when did I get old and bitter enough to say things like twinky?  Seriously!  But if you could see her, you would know what I mean.  anyway)

But he's pretty to look at when I go to "appreciate the music".  Support the arts.  Rock fans make the world go round.  Or something.

On a happier note...

I love this guy.  It's reasons like this I'm staying Sweden!

Funny drunk TV presenters.  What?  It's a reason! 

Not the only one... ;-)

Don't think So

So I'm just gonna come out and say this.

This blog is a POSITIVE place for POSITIVE people.  Yeah, I put my life out there but I don't judge anybody and I expect the same RESPECT back.  If you're somebody that wants to judge and pick holes in the life of a stranger you don't even know, well okay, but don't come back here because we don't want you.  You don't know anything about me, but I can tell a lot about you from how you think and what you put out into the world.  And don't think I don't know who you are because I'm a lot of things but I aint dumb.

I never deleted a comment before and I hope I don't have to again, but like I said this is a POSITIVE place and it's gonna stay that way.

You reap what you sow, just remember that.

Ska vi gå fitta?

*sigh*

This language is tough to keep straight.

Girls girls girls

Okay, I wouldn't really call myself a feminist.  I mean, I like to shave (well not like it's an activity I look forward to, but you know what I mean) and I do like men even if not always the ones in my life right at this second and even though I get angry sometimes it's usually about something specific not just generally being angry all the time.

But sometimes, I really despair for young women today.  It's not even like I'm all that old, but they seem to have changed, you know?  Or is it just me?  When I was in school, it was all about being all you can be (though not necessarily joining the army) and having a career that didn't depend on men and whatnot, and this new generation just seem so... silly.  Okay, I went into entertainment a little bit myself (and might be again) but that was still having a job on my own merits that could be tough sometimes, not floating around "modelling" and going to parties and being defined by their love life.  It's just depressing.

Is this what feminism was about?  For young women to have the choice to seem like they're not really all there and call it empowerment?

Good Moron

Which I guess is better than being a bad moron, right?

It's crazy the little things that get you about not really understanding the language around you.  I'm trying to learn, and I am picking up little things, like how to ask for coffee or say 'excuse me' (even though I'm about the only person in Stockholm that uses the second one, they don't seem to consider knocking into somebody something worthy of acknowledgment).  Problem is, if I manage to ask for the coffee semi correctly, the person comes to the conclusion that I speak some Swedish and asks if I want cream or tells me how much it is in Swedish and I'm like "... what now?"  But anyway, baby steps.

What's funny though, is that there's some words that sound like English but mean something totally different.  Or even just a little bit different, enough to be a little bit funny.  Like, the word "lång" means tall.  But if a certain personal trainer tells me that he's really long, I'm not the only one to blush and get the giggles, right... ?  Or if someone yells 'stop' which is "sluta", certain American gals with very high morals might get a a little offended!

Or, 'good morning' is "god morgon" (uhh, yeah, you don't need to know who said good morning to me... right?) but sounds like "good moron", which, like I said, is better than a bad moron...

The people asked...

Okay, one commenter asked, but maybe other people wondered!

Erik.

Man, I don't know.  There is something there, we both know it and sometimes it really flickers to life but then he goes weird or I realize this is more than I can handle so it kind of dwindles down until we see each other the next time and it's like, damn.  You are hot.

Imagine in sweats and kind of longer, messier hair and even more adorkable because he's not a hot actor who has to know how hot he is, but a real regular Södermalm guy who really doesn't seem to have any clue.

I'm getting the impression that he has those regular hot guy issues with women/commitment, and doesn't really know if he's coming or going, so it's not that he doesn't like me (that's clear enough) but it might come down to me not really having the patience to deal with this kind of adolescent shit.  Maybe it's a Swedish thing or just a dating thing and it's been so long I've forgotten, but I'm just like, can we be grown ups here a little bit?

So it's not not happening, but it's up in the air how much it's happening.

Clear?  Good.  Could somebody explain it to me, please?

Tubes Glorious Tubes

Was in the grocery store today (it's bad that I've discovered another one closer to my apartment but I still like the one I saw Stellan Skarsgård in 'cause it's cool... it's Grocery Shopping with the Stars), and I was standing there holding a tube of something and my Swedish dictionary, trying to figure out what the heck it was. 

 Now, in other countries, there's a limit to what foodstuffs are likely to be found in a tube, right?  It's going to be some sort of condiment... right?  Wrong.  I swear you could make an entire meal in Sweden just by squirting stuff onto your plate.

I have some cousins in the Pacific Northwest, and I once described their personal style as "always ready for unexpected hiking".  Swedish food is kind of "always ready for an unexpected trip to space".

Don't forget your helmet

Okay this just cracks me up.  Does anybody else get a mental picture of a bunch of huge guys with spears and horn helmets and whatnot lining up with their passports and tickets... just me?

Är Du Gift?

Well no, Sweden, not any more actually, thanks to you!

A while ago, I posted about some porn I had seen in a store window, and basically got half the population of Sweden commenting to tell me to chill out and not be so prudish and anyway Americans are really violent and that's much worse.  And I was like, okay sure, different cultures are different, maybe Americans are uptight about sex a little bit? 

But at least we don't have commercials telling people to have affairs.

I've been seeing these all over Stockholm the last few days, and I was like, no, that doesn't say what I think it does... right?  I mean, "ha en affär" doesn't exactly take a translation genius to figure out, but I just though I had to have got it wrong.

Except it turns out I didn't.  Yep, these commercials that are everywhere (seriously, you can't miss 'em unless you walk around with your eyes shut... and why would you do that?) and they say "are you married?  Live a little - have an affair".  They are for a dating agency.  For married people.

Now, I'm all for being free and open about sex and chill with being naked and experimenting and kinky stuff if that's what consenting adults want to do on their own time, but I draw the line at encouraging adultery.  There's just no excuse for that, and I have serious questions about a culture that's okay with it.

You can't help but see how a certain good old American boy who had been stand up and committed and respected the institution of marriage got off the plane here and was like "party time". 

Sunshine!

After yesterday's snow-dump, it's beautiful blue skies and sunny today.  Am going exploring... !

Coopweger split... called it!

Hah!  Not to be smug and cynical about love (who me?) I can't help but remember just last week I mentioned I never bought Bradley Cooper and Renee Zellweger.  Just something always a little bit "off" about the whole thing when they first came out - remember the Spain trip which was the premiere of The Hangover there, but she kind of tagged along and they were "caught" having breakfast?

I mean come on!  his hair is even "just got out of bed with this woman I'm now having breakfast with mussed" - could it be any more staged?  Who doesn't brush their hair before going down to  breakfast in a hotel!

And how tall is the paparazzi who took this photo?  Or did he bring a ladder?  How did they not notice the dude on the ladder?

And then there was the finger in the back pocket shot I talked about before which, I'm telling you, is a dead giveaway!  Neither person gets anything out of a touch like that, it's all about telegraphing to the world 'hey I get to touch this person's butt, what does that tell you.... huh? ... huh??'  Couples do that in high school, because dating in high school is more about letting everyone know you're dating this person, rather than just really wanting to touch the fabric of their jeans because pockets are so hot.

 And then remember the whole PR blast about him "choosing" Jennifer Aniston and her heart being broken, and it was like 'please'?

Well hey Mr Pap - we didn't see you there!

But after a pap fest of them being "caught" together but never exactly hand holdy obvious couply, it all went quiet for like a year and I started to think maybe I was wrong.  Maybe it was just weird how they got together but if they're just quietly hanging out together ever since then maybe it got real or maybe it seemed weird but it wasn't really.  Like these pictures when they were just wandering around (Vancouver?  Maybe) together, not being weird about not being in the same frame together, just being low-key and normal, it was like... okay they hang out like regular people.  Maybe he really did break Jennifer Aniston's heart and they find jeans pockets hot.

Until they "broke up".

The same week as his movie comes out.

And claimed that there had been break up rumors for weeks.  Except there hasn't.  Not saying I'm a serious gossip addict or anything, but if there were break up rumors anywhere, I'd have seen them.  If anything, the rumors have been that they're serious enough to finally come out.  Not been one whisper about them breaking up other than People last night claiming that there have been whispers.

So anyway.  Just saying...

A little notion...

To check out some live music.  Any recommendations?

Update

So.  Still here, still living.  Stuff happening.

I talked to a lawyer my family know well from back home, who gave me so much advice I felt like my head was going to explode.  I seriously have Sunday-night-when-you-haven't-done-your-homework-yet feeling about all of this, you know!  I'm like, stop telling me about horrible stuff I have to take care of, just let me play and have fun!  I want to go to the beach!  Waah, leave me alone!  But that's the attitude that sent me to summer school for three years running so I guess I have to woman up and deal with it all.

I totally know what everybody is saying about making sure I get what's mine, but I am just so pissed at his attitude that I'm this Real Housewives type golddigger and he has to protect everything he ever worked for from me - ME?!  You know?  So I have this feeling like, I don't need you or your money or your assets, just go rattle around in it all by yourself because I'm so much better than that.  I still get little ragy stabby waves whirling up when I think about that lawyer ambush - what did I ever do to deserve that?  Did I ever sound, in this blog, like I just wanted to spend his crappy cash and sit around eating bonbons all day?  Seriously, tell me!

So anyway.  That's how I feel even though I know it's not smart so I'm in this little fight with myself right now.  I really don't know whose going to win, but I guess one way or another it'll be me!

The List

The Royal Guards...

... there was a hotter one before, but I forgot my camera!  I went home to get it and when I came back he was no where to be seen so I took a photo of this one instead who is still pretty hot but not quite at the level of the last one.  Note to self: always carry camera around in Stockholm!

This is gonna age me a bit...

But this is how I feel today:

MIA

Sorry for being a little slack with updates the last few days, will be back to regular service soon!!

P.P.S.

Erik.  His name is spelled Erik.  Need to get used to that!

Sometimes you just have to throw caution to the wind and go with what your heart is telling you.

Maybe this whole crazy mess of moving to Sweden was to bring me to my soulmate?  I feel like every cell is more alive when I am around him, I'm buzzed and on a sugar high where you just crack up all the time at nothing because just being alive makes you smile and laugh.

I know it's not smart.  I know I have important and scary and horrible sh*t that I need to deal with, but just for right now, I need to be with him or the world will fall off its orbit and nothing will be worth it.  Because isn't being alive about being in love?

I'm not going to fight The Ex on anything, I don't care.  No amount of money or half our house back in the US or even this apartment is worth trouble and stress and strife.  I'm a strong independent woman and I can support myself - check me out, I guess I'm more Swedish than I thought!!  I don't need a penny from him, I have my new opportunities and I have love and health and happiness.  And he can just take a long walk off a short cliff.

P.S.

Don't worry about me - 'aint nobody taking OhioGirl for a fool.   He underestimated me for the last time. 

Intesting News...

It seems somebody got herself a job!  (me, that is)

Nothing completely sure yet, but I put the word out to some old contacts in the events/PR biz and got some pretty exciting responses.  We'll see what happens, but kind of excited to be putting the old party girl shoes on again...

He ambushed me.  How could I be so stupid?  It was a trap, sheer and simple.  It was him and two - TWO! - lawyers sitting waiting for me with documents to sign that basically mean I would get nothing out of this divorce.  Because that's what it is - HE is filing for divorce from ME!  Because I guess he is the wronged party here?!!???!!!!  How could I have thought it was about reconcilliation?  I was sure that's what the secretary said but when I said that he said no way then later admitted maybe she got mixed up so now I don't even know if I heard the right thing of if I am going crazy or what.  All I know is that he tried to blindside me and it was a BIG MISTAKE.  How stupid does he think I am?  Oh yeah, he thinks I'm stupid enough to not notice or care that he has been CHEATING on me with god knows how many skanks for a REALLY LONG TIME and I'm just supposed to wish him good luck with the rest of his life? Yeah right!!  I was an independent woman when I married him making good money in a upward career and HE wanted me to be a homemaker and I AGREED and now he is suggesting I contributed nothing to the marriage?  Nothing except taking care of you because you are INCOMPETANT in every basic way, A-HOLE!  Let's see how well he does remembering any appointments, ever, or remembering to pay bills (he has the money, he's just a moron) or knowing what a vegetable is never mind eating one or how long it takes him to go broke buying new underwear every week because he doesn't know how to work a washing machine.  This could have been adult, and friendly and mature and HE screwed that up, big time.

I was going to give him another chance.  Damn damn damn what was I thinking?  I walked across to where his office is and I thought and thought and I just wanted all this to go away again and I made up my mind that if he said the right things, I would listen.  And instead he did this to me.  I couldn't even cry because those two freaking lawyers were sitting there looking at me like I was crazy or something because I got a little upset at being treated like a problem kid or something.  I couldn't even find the words to speak to start with I just stared at them all.  He is a stranger to me.  I once read this magazine article about a woman who got an operation and she woke up but because they gave her muscle relaxants or something she couldn't move to tell them she was awake and she felt every thing while the surgeons cut her open and took out her appendix or something.  That is literally how I feel now.  Like surgeons are cutting me open and removing things and the pain is so indescribable that I can't even scream.

No Fat Ladies Singing Yet

His secretary called.  Nothing says 'I miss you and I need you back' like your PA calling to make an appointment!  Emotionally, he is a moron.  But anyway, he wants to schedule a mediation session to try to work all this out.

I know I said was done, line drawn under, yadda yadda, but I couldn't say no.  I still can't see how we could ever go back from this stuff, but if he is so desperate to try I guess I have to do my bit too, even if just to say 'well we gave it our best shot'.  I feel like I already gave it a 110% shot, but I don't know any more.  Maybe it's worth talking or maybe I just need to show up.

I said I'd go this afternoon.

Good Old Days and Gossip

Workout session canceled today, so been getting organized in the apartment and going through old photos and stuff.  Seems like I didn't distract anybody with my story of one first kiss so to sneak in news of another, but something happened yesterday on a fan board I hang out at sometimes that reminded me of those days a little bit.

I wasn't really ever a groupie in the Almost Famous/I'm With the Band sense, not really.  Maybe I had a chance to be or almost was at some points during that time, but I was happy just dipping my toe in (in the metaphor sense, not being TMI ;-) ) from time to time.  I like creative people who live outside the box a little bit (why I married who I did is a mystery then, guy practically built the box, but whatever) so when I hung out with rockstars it was because I was genuinely interested in and attracted to them as people, not like some groupies that see the whole thing as just competition with other women or sometimes imagine that it's some kind of vocation or career choice - please!  I was never about married guys or guys with long term girlfriends, but if a musician was single and fun to hang out with - why the H not??


That wasn't what I was going to talk about.  I was going to talk about the fans.  I never dated or got to really know anyone super duper famous, but some that had some fans who posted about them or the band.  I like to hang out on fan boards sometimes too because I'm an insatiable gossip, so I have kind of experienced that whole phenomenon from both sides.  And what I learned, is a) weird shit happens, weirder than most people could even think up, but at the same time, b) most stuff is way more boring than fans speculate.  Which is kind of completely contradictory, but still true. 

It cracks me up when people insist their take is true, because there is no way they have any clue so mostly, everyone's guess is as good as everyone else's.  I read stuff about me (not that I was somebody anyone would know my name, just 'blonde getting in the car with XXX' or whatever) and it was so far off the truth it would be hilarious, and other times they'd happen to get it dead on and it was freaky.

The whole fun of being a fan and gossiping is that you can speculate and have opinions and none of it really matters because you'll never know what's true and more importantly, the only people you can hurt by your opinions (as opposed to if you hate the relationship a friend is in or something) are crazies who go off the wall when somebody doesn't agree with them.  And let's face it, those crazies will find someone to be offended by!

Celebrity gossip is my little 'thing'.  Sometimes I follow stories about celebrities I don't really care about just because there's something intriguingly 'off' about the story (Bradley Cooper and Renee Zellweger, really?) or how it's presented (because trust me, it's all being presented in one way or another), and sometimes it's someone I really like and I kind of know I'm getting overinvested but then I think 'meh, it'll pass'. 

On Coopweger, is it just me, or does anyone else just not buy the hand/finger in the back pocket thing?  It's such an unnatural gesture, I don't know anyone in real life who does it!

Sometimes it drives me crazy that I'll never know the truth of some stories, and sometimes that's the fun of it. 

Friend Date

Which really is what it was.  It was two people who enjoy each other's company and one of them is emotionally frizzled to bits so really can't get involved in anything and the other one is Swedish and if I understand correctly will take about eight years to get involved in anything anyway, hanging out.

He took me on a tour of 'his Stockholm', to places like his high school - which they call 'gymnasium' which really confused me because isn't that what 'gym' is short for?  So I thought he meant it was some kind of special athletics school and  I was like, no wonder you grew up to be a trainer if you just did gym class all day, and he was like, uhh no we did math and history and stuff too, and I was imagining them doing that while playing basketball or something and it all got quite confusing!  Damn that whole different language thing!

He told me some really cool stories too - seems once upon a time this wasn't so much the cool place to live!  People used to call it the "dirty south" of Stockholm and it was where all the factories were (he showed me some old factories that are now apartments and offices, very cool!) and the people were really poor and sometimes rough.  Apparently even when he was a little kid (though it was starting to change) you had to be really careful walking around some areas of Södermalm at night, and some of the old people who still live around here sometimes act that way.  He told me his little sister once got freaked out by this old guy who told her and her friends to hurry and get home because it was getting dark, but really the old guy was just confused and looking out for them.

So it was friendly and nice and we both ignored the little frizzons of moments when we stood a little bit close to each other or accidentally touched, and tried to forget the other night when he leaned down to give me a hug and a kind of kiss on the cheek ended up on the lips and it was incredible and fireworks but we both knew it couldn't happen not now, not like this.

Except it did.

The soap stuff...

Because it is really therapeutic to work it out in my head enough to write it up.  Most of it at least, some is still a little raw to type.  So thanks for being my virtual Fraiser Cranes!!

So, Thursday night shenanigans.  I went back inside because I just didn't know what to do or say and I made myself a hot chocolate with marshmallows and stood in the kitchen with the lights off drinking it.  I don't exactly know why, but that's what I did.  I guess Soon To Be Ex left because when I looked out the window a little later he was gone.  For a few moments I worried about if he had someplace to sleep that night, but then I caught myself and remembered that a) he did, that was the freaking problem and b) even if he didn't, it wasn't my problem.

So that was kind of that.  I felt relieved, scared, exhilarated, numb all at the same time.  I know we have to sit down and talk and do this right eventually, but I guess I knew at that minute that this couldn't be undone.  We finally tipped over into No Going Back Land.  There's no way that we could make up and in a little while be like, remember that night you locked me out and I yelled at you from the street and you laughed at me like a deranged hyena? 

I might have said this in an earlier post or maybe I just thought it, but it's like we broke our leg a while back and have been taking Tylenol to pretend it didn't happen, but because the Tylenol doesn't actually fix the break it's just been getting worse and infected and gross and now it can't be fixed and the Tylenol doesn't cut it any more so finally we just got it amputated and now we can move on and get one of those cool fake legs like that guy in ER who could go running.

Which is probably the craziest analogy I've ever come up with, and if the makers of Tylenol are thinking of suing me for suggesting they couldn't fix my marriage let me make it clear it was a made up analogy and also I don't have any money so don't bother.

Hometown Boy Representing!

http://santress.tumblr.com/post/3721294797/you-can-take-the-boy-out-of-south-stockholm-but

Come home for a visit honey!  I'll buy you a belt and you can come running with Eric and everyone will think they're seeing double.  It'll be fun!

Nordöstersjökustartilleriflygspaningssimulatoranläggningsmaterielunderhållsuppföljningssystemdiskussionsinläggsförberedelsearbeten

Umm, so I don't exactly know when this blog went from being a 'hey I live in Sweden, here are some cool/weird things about it' to a daytime soap about my life, it's not exactly what I imagined when I started it!

But anyway.

Just to pretend that everything is normal, here's a weird/cool thing I've noticed about Sweden: they are obsessed with making the longest words in the universe by sticking about eight words together into one! 

The title of this post is the official longest word in the world.  It's in Swedish of course and means: Northern Baltic Sea Coast Artillery Reconnaissance Flight Simulator Construction Equipment Maintenance Monitoring systems Talk Posts Preparation Works.  So there!

But even in regular conversation people stick words together to make one.  Like this one: tvåbarnspappan.  It means 'Dad with two kids.'  Which is an entire sentence in one word!

Which really doesn't make looking stuff up in the dictionary (somehow I find the physical action of looking it up makes me learn it better than just clicking 'translate') easy, because you have to first separate the words out or otherwise you will never find it!  I guess that's also a good way to learn because it feels like a little triumph to just have figured out how many words and where they start and end, even if I don't know what any of them mean!

I learned my new favorite Swedish word today (yeah, yeah, 'he' taught it to me, more on that later!!): snuskhummer.

Which translates as "filthy lobster" (two words stuck together, see??) but means pervert or dirty old man.  Which cracks me up because it makes me think of a lobster going around pinching asses!

Note: don't look up 'snuskhummer' in google images unless you are a) alone or b) Swedish and cool with that stuff...

I feel a little slack at updating the last day or two, stuff going on that I can't really process in my head much less sit down and write out.  Good stuff, bad stuff, weird stuff.

A little drive by gift:

I have a We're Just Hanging Out As Friends This Isn't A Date Date today.  I think.  Maybe we're just hanging out as friends.  Maybe that would be best.  Maybe I should bring some crispbreads in case he wants to dance for me.

Romeo & Juliet

For a while, then I texted him to tell him that I knew everything and I included details of a couple of nearby hotels. I said I would call and make him a reservation as a parting gift.

He went crazy. He had a crazy temper years ago when he was young and ambitious (before he got old and obnoxious) but man, it came out of retirement. He doesn't like for things to not go his way, but I'd almost forgotten because it's been so long since I've let things really not go his way. Well except for the little preview of all this a couple of weeks ago, but that was just that, a preview. He yelled. He banged on the door so loud I almost thought he'd break it down, but it turns out that it's not so easy to do that outside of movies.

Some of our neighbours must have complained or come out in the hall to talk to him or something, because the next thing I knew he was out in the street.

Still yelling. 

I went out on the balcony. Just call me Juliet.

I looked down at this red faced full of himself little tiny man down there and I just felt... nothing.  Not angry, not sad, not even confused that I ever fell for him, just this black hole of 'eh'.  Which is probably the saddest thing I've ever felt.

Actually, it would have been sadder if it wasn't for the fact that a bunch of drunk teenage kids walked past and started heckling him in Swedish so he broke from yelling at me to yell at them and tried to be all school teacher-y 'now kids, behave' except it could not have been more obvious that he had been thrown out of his home so he didn't exactly have status.  I started to laugh.

I don't know if it was because the sight was truly funny or it was just between that or crying, but I'm laughing and the kids are heckling and this man, this stranger, is basically telling us all to smarten up and behave while his face goes red and his expensive suitcase sits in dirty snow.

Just another Thursday night in Södermalm.

Just when you thought it was over...

Serious down to earthness today. Remember the A-hole I was married to a few days ago? You do? Glad one of us did. I've been doing my best to forget. Oh hell, that's not true, but you know what I mean.

He's been out of town for a couple days, Copenhagen I think. Which has been really good because it's easier to breathe and think straight when he's not so close.

But he came back. He hasn't called this week, but has sent a couple of text messages about when he was going to be back so we could talk – which just tells me all over again that he's not taking this, or me, seriously. He's been acting like we've had an argument about him finishing the milk and putting the empty carton back in the fridge or something.  Which also pisses me off, btw.  I guess his office didn't give him the message about his stuff turning up there.

Anyway, so he came back late last night and texted me from the airport to ask if I had dinner waiting or should he pick up take out or something.

And I did something a little mean. I'm not proud, but sometimes you have to just wrench a tiny bit of power back and I texted back to say there was roast waiting (his family is English like eight generations ago and he plays on liking roast stuff and tea because he thinks it makes him sound smart). Oh, and I didn't mention that the locks were changed again.

So he gets to the apartment and of course I couldn't change the main door key so he gets in there but that's as far as he gets. I was sitting watching TV and I heard his key rattle, trying to get in the lock. And he tried it again, harder, I could literally hear him getting mad through the key. Then he knocks on the door. And again.

The lights and the TV were on so he could tell through the door that I was home, so he starts yelling for me.

And I let him.

The way I was

It was one of those moments where you kind of have an out of body experience and look down at yourself and think, damn I wish I was her. Oh wait, I am! You know how, sometimes when you think of some event that you're really looking forward to like a party or a date, you kind of do a dress rehearsal in your mind and you think, maybe this will happen or that will happen, but even so, you know it probably won't?

I'd been to a million gigs before, I was serious rock chick chicky so of course I'd played out a little fun fantasy in my mind like maybe I'll slip outside before the show for a breath of fresh air and I'll be standing there looking cool and independent on my own and I'll be half a foot taller and a bunch of pounds skinnier and I'll be wearing those boots I tried to buy and my card got declined because in this world, my card doesn't get declined. I'll just so happen to walk by the stage door because it's nearby and he'll come out for a smoke or something and he'll see me and ask if I'm going to the show and I'll be like, oh yeah, my girlfriend is a really big fan and he'll ask, what about you? And I'll laugh casually and say that the band is okay. Then he'll laugh with that growly, rockstar laugh he has and suggest my girlfriend and I come by for a drink at his hotel later and I'll be like, sure, I'll see what our plans are.

When it happened, it didn't happen anything like that. My girlfriend flirted with security who told us what hotel they were staying at and we convinced ourselves that it was probably the best place to go for a drink anyway. But when we got there, he did look at me, with the same look as in my fantasy. Which, okay, is the same look from about eight of their videos, but it's a whole nother ball game when it's for you. We were talking to the security guy who invited us and he wandered over and interrupted the conversation because he gets to do that, and asked us if we enjoyed the show. And I wasn't cool or 'whatever', I basically leaped up and down and told him it was the best show ever ever in the world of all time. But he laughed. Then he leaned down and told me his room number.

Not romantic, no. But hot.

I don't really know why I'm thinking about all that today, except that rollercoaster, out of body, bungee jumping feeling seems to be my regular state these days.

Oh yeah. And Eric kissed me.

Taking the High Road

What happened this evening is beneath me and it won't happen again.  I really apologize to all my blog friends who got dragged into the nasty death throes of my marriage and some chicky who thinks she is a lot more important and interesting than she is.   Innocent people don't get so offended, that's all I have to say on the matter and won't be drawn into it again.

I am looking forward to the exciting new things happening in my life and won't waste another minute worrying about people who have way too much time on their hands on the internet.  Deny away.  Whatever.  I'm over it.

I know what I know, that's all.

Again, I am really sorry to all my blog friends who are way too classy to be dragged down by all this.  From now on I promise to be the same!

Tomorrow is a new day!

Swedish Grandma

So, I'm not going back on Swedes being reserved completely, I still think a little 'hey hows it going' wouldn't hurt to be sprinkled into every day conversation and maybe even the odd smile or two, but with a little more time I'm discovering that, at least, reserved doesn't completely mean cold.

Today I was in the grocery store.  I needed to buy some washing powder for laundry and I couldn't figure out what was washing powder and what was fabric softener or whatever.  Because, duh, all the packets were in Swedish.  Which is so obvious, but one of those little things about living in a country where you don't speak the language that you kind of forget then it suddenly hits you when you are standing there in the store holding a packet of something and feeling like a moron because you have no clue what it is.

Probably I'm a little extra emotional right now, so I really was about to start just wailing like a baby when I noticed this little old lady standing right by me.  Without even thinking, I turned and blurted out 'excuse me do you know if this is washing powder or not?' and she was the nicest person ever!  She told me that it was but that a different brand was better value and asked me what kind of washing machine I had and gave me all kinds of laundry advice!

I never thought I would be so happy and grateful for getting advice on laundry, but she was so kind and warm I felt like I had a little Swedish grandma for a minute, and it was really what I needed.

On Prudery and Nudity

So, a while back I posted about running across a display of erotic books in Gamla Stan and getting kind of a fright.  Since then, it feels like it's been read and linked to and pretty much made fun of (mostly in a nice way!) by just about every online Swede there is!


http://talesofsodermalm.blogspot.com/2011/02/not-suitable-for-work.html

Can I just explain first that I wasn't criticizing, only saying what my experience is?  It was my second week or something and I hadn't gotten used to how chill Swedes are about certain parts of life.  I don't think it's a bad thing that they are at all, but I'm not there yet.  I go red and snicker like a sixth grader and run away and hey, maybe if I was more open and chill my husband wouldn't have left me but I guess it's too late!!!  (yeah, yeah Bitter Party of One, just give me a couple days to be angry, K???)

I think it's cool that families (I'm told) wander round naked together at the weekend or sauna together or whatever. I don't think I'll be joining in any time soon, mostly because I have good old fashioned American body hatred and if I had the money I'd get a surgeon to just melt me down and pour me into a mould made from Elle Macpherson (am pretty sure we have similar body mass, just pulled in different directions, mine more horizontally...), but that's my issue and I think it's awesome that people here don't have it.

But can I just say that these book covers weren't just chill nakedness.  There were poses.  Legs pointing in directions.  Fingers in places.  Which, okay, is part of life too, I'm just saying I probably wouldn't walk a little kid down that particular street.

Partly at least because I don't know any little kids here so it would be weird.

But also because I don't know if I want them to see that stuff yet?  And before anyone pipes up with the whole sex/violence thing, just because my culture is okay with video games with car crashes etc doesn't mean I am.  I wouldn't let this fictitious little kid play those games either.  Partly at least because the controls would fall through his imaginary fingers.

So anyway.  I just felt like I wanted to explain.

What's that phrase about protesting too much?

http://soderbonanfrida.blogspot.com/

Please missy.  Dial down the indignant anger and maybe your protesting will sound a little more real.

Complications

So you know I was asking how you go about dating in Sweden?  And kind of wondering how you would know if a Swedish man liked you?

If he smiles and blushes (I was right!!) like a schoolboy when you open the door?

Almost seems like he's going to hug you but he's never done that before because after all you have a professional relationship so he kind of swoops down and back up again and nearly hits his head on your coat rack in the most adorkable way possible?

Jogs really slowly (practically Chariots of Fire) so that you can easily keep up and you're jogging right in time with each other even though his legs are about three feet longer and suddenly it feels like you're breathing in time with each other and you had no idea that jogging through a dull day with muddy snow and dog pee could be so hot?

Stands aside to let you go up some stairs first and kind of holds his arm out and as you pass his fingers brush your arm like by accident but really not?

After the run stands outside your apartment building in the freezing cold for about six hours telling you some really random story about how some lesbian lady brought coffee with her to have an affair in your neighbourhood about 100 years ago and you have no clue what he is talking about but he is so animated and sweet you are just mesmerized?

Really suddenly leans down to hug you, close.

And whispers stuff.

That you STUPIDLY kind of pretend you didn't really catch/understand because you're just not sure, not yet, so run into the building so fast you just about knock yourself out on a mailbox and if this ever ever does happen you guys are going to need to be careful because you seem to have a really high risk of concussion around each other?

Does that mean a Swedish guy likes you?

Stuff I Need to Learn!

So I started thinking about the whole Is Eric Flirting With That Girl Or Not hoo-hah and started to get nervous about the whole I Guess I'm Single in Sweden hoo-hah.

People here are super reserved (and I'm NOT saying that's a terrible thing, just an observation!!) and I just can't imagine somebody just coming up to somebody (such as me) and asking them out - how does it work?  Are there some secret body language skills?  Or do people really subtly pass notes or something?!

Actually that would be kind of cool.  Imagine sitting having a coffee (or a varm choklad med grädde, loving those!) and suddenly some guy (such as Eric) comes up with a little note written on a post-it that says 'do you like me - check for 'yes' 'no' 'I wish you would die' '.  Cute!

Except, knowing me, I wouldn't have a pen so I'd have to go up to the bar and ask them if I could borrow one and they might ask why and the whole time Eric (just for example) would be standing there waiting for a reply and I think maybe he's a blusher which would just make me melt but then I'd be all like 'can't we just talk to each other like regular people?!' which might make him blush more and I'd feel terrible!



So I think maybe I need some lessons.  I'm signed up for language lessons that start in a couple of weeks, think they have a Being Picked Up in Sweden class??

I found this: http://lostinstockholm.com/2007/10/10/dating-in-swedenwe-americans-need-a-guide/ Any more tips?!?!?!?!?!!?

Not that I'm going to start dating right away, I know I need to let this all settle down and heal, it just helps to think about the time when I'm going to be ready, you know?  And I know I'm imagining this awesome Carrie-in-Sex-and-the-City-except-the-city-is-Stockholm-and-with-a-little-bit-more-regular-clothes life that maybe won't be real, but it feels good to feel like it could be.  And who knows?  Maybe it could...

Oh and without the smoking.  Not that I actually have a big problem with it, because stinky terrible for you yeah yeah yeah... it looks cool it just does don't deny it!! but I can't smoke.  Like, literally can't.  I tried all through my teenage years and some of my twenties and I just go green and start hacking away like an old man.  Which, I get, is why you shouldn't smoke.  But a little part of me thinks if I was cool enough I'd be able to.

If there are any kids reading this, 1) this is an adult blog, go bebo or something and 2) that whole paragraph above is a lie.

Seems like a good day to update the old list, huh?

Posting a picture of a guy running is making me feel like I'm cheating on Eric. 

No, I don't need you to tell me how effed up that is... !

But thank you, anyway.


And now for something a little different:

Little bit 70s greasy-chic, but plays a policeman on TV, and that's hot.

Staying on the theme of Kind of Not Hot, Yet Hot:

I'm not cruel enough to post her email address here...

But it's basically her blog name @ server.  No question the same person:

       Hej [my soon to be ex husband],

Riktigt trevligt att träffa dig härom kvällen. Jag har alltid varit ett stort fan av London Fashion, skulle så gärna komma om erbjudandet fortfarande är öppet - så låt mig veta detaljer!

Frida
 

Hej igen,

Jag undrar vad som händer kring London, eftersom jag skulle behöva boka om i veckan om det blir aktuellt. Jag förstår om det inte blir av, var inte orolig, ville bara inte missa om möjligheten finns.

Kram, 

Frida

I think taking a trip to London together justifies kicking him out, no?  He could have taken me to London, but I guess I'm not as hot or [unfeminist thoughts I'm allowed to think because of what I'm going through but won't post] as her.

Moving on feels good.  I boxed up all his stuff and sent it c/o his office which will make him ma-ad because I'm not even supposed to call him there because he likes to keep private life out of work.  Crap, I just realised what that really meant as I typed it.  Deep breath.

It's over.  I've been ostriching too long.  I can't explain why I came here with him when I knew deep down - you always realize you knew after, right? - maybe I came for me.  I think maybe I did.

Single in Sweden.

How many hours until my session with Eric tomorrow???