Heliophobia

I have bought a new pair of sunglasses. And a summer hat. And a cap, but not really a cap, but just the shade/shield part withouth the actual "hat" part. More just a thing around the head, connected to the shielding bit. I would be greatful for insight what this is actually called in proper english/american, if possible. I.e. if people know, if it exists, and if someone is able to grasp my explanation. At least, I am sure you can appreciate that I am ready for summer. I am still waiting though. There were a few weeks of excellent spring weather, but now there has been several weeks of overcast/rain/10C autumn weather. But soon, soon it will be here! The plants are growing slowly. Slowly slowly. Which of course means I get to enjoy them longer, not having all exploding in blossom and withering within a few weeks of hot drought summer*.

There was some sun today, but I did not enjoy it at all. After work I felt it was necessary to fit a 1 h nap before my group therapy thingy. But when I woke up, there was an evil cloud banging with a bat from inside my skull. I have no idea how he got in there, but I think it was some sort of conspiracy between medical side effects, the original reason for medication, working, and having some sort of infection. I can feel my lymph nodes being swollen and aching, but still no sign of disease. I give warm praise to my brilliant immune system. Well, my headache is not as present now, but I have spent most of the time indoors with curtains pulled down wearing my new sunglasses, resting on my couch. An unfortunate way to spend an afternoon/evening, when actually having planned for some excellent therapy and a nice dinner with an old friend. But you don't always get to choose, sometimes your body can make the decisions for you.

Now I'll go back to reading my newly-purchased book "The Game" by Neil Strauss. Brilliantly entertaining!



*I of course want a warm sunny summer too, but when not presented, I can use my newfound skills from cognitive therapy to put the whole thing in a more optimistic perspective. So please, don't miss the opportunity to enjoy this swedish optimism when at its best. Check out my blog frequently, you can learn a lot about finding a positive angle to anything!

Transportation: gone

As usual, mornings include walking in some semi-awake state over to the bike shed. It is all pre-programmed. I put my right trouser leg in my right sock, not to get my trousers tangled up in the chain on my mountain bike. I take the keys from the outer pocket on my bag. I flip the keys around a bit to find the proper small silver key for the huge lock on my bike. Enter the shed, and find my bike. This morning was different though, because I (for once) actually remembered where I had put the bike. It was in the very left stand, just by the entrance. The other thing different was that the bike was not there where I had left it. It was actually not in the shed at all, after a closer look. And not anywhere to be found in any of the surrounding vegetation. It was stolen.

You'd expect to get rather upset when these things happen. Your means of daily transportation is stolen from you. But I didn't. Not at all. I just established it wasn't there, and accepted it. I borrowed a spare bike from my boyfriend, went home, called the police to report the theft. For statistics you know. And that was it. The lock was actually the most valuable. I had bought it a couple of years back when living in Scotland, for 30 pounds or so (like 45 euro, or 55 usd). The bike was one of those cheap ones you get as an extra gift while buying a TV or so. My grandmother got it when she had to buy a new TV, and she was kind enough to sell me the bike in exchange for me buying her a small table to put her TV on. The bike was by now really rusty, the chain was almost falling apart, the gears were getting on my nerves, and it was in a general bad condition. I hope they will have to work some hours on picking the lock, but that is probably naïve of me to think. With today's thieving methods and low morals, they can probably do it in less than a minute, no matter how expensive the lock was.

But after they have managed to get the lock open. I hope they will crash the rusty old bike into a tree, and die a slow painful death. And then they will realise to keep their filthy hands off what's not theirs to take.

Me vs. the machines

A good friend cleaverly tricked me into coming with her to the gym today. I haven't been there for some time now, due to Berlin conference and other sheit. It was really hard to get my tiny little arse there, and also to make the first round of exercises. My body felt stiff and heavy. But by the time the upper-body-work-out-bit was about to finish, I started to wake up and get a hang of it. I lifted the weights like a maniac.

It's a weird place that gym. Or I guess any gym in general is. There is so much testosterone in the air, that I fear my body will slowly transcend into masculinity if I spend too much time there. People are drinking protein shots, shouting in agony while lifting, and walking around with arms in a 'I-am-carrying-a-big-box'-position, without actually carrying one. Tiny legs, and a huuuuge torso on top. They seem unaware of the concept of proportion. I could never scream like them either, or at least not prior to my feared transcendance. I can give off a small sigh while lifting the heavy whatever for the 12th and last time. But scream? No. Is that really not only a contraproductive cry for attention? Shouting ought to cost your body some energy too, right? And what is then left for your arms lifting that heavy weight? But maybe it gives some psychological lift, which of course should not be underestimated.

I know for instance, that a reversed psychological lift, let's call it a psychological push-down, cracked me at the end of my workout today. It happens so easily, and is so hard to revert once it is in progress. We had just finished the upperbody excercises, and my friend was going to continue with leg-exercises. I had planned to go home at this stage, but feeling rather uplifted by my crazy weight-lifting and sudden and unexpected late wakening, I reconsidered my decision and chose to stick it out and join her for the last bit too. The last wee bit needed to be started by leg warming, which she decided to do on an exercise bike, while I preferred running. I started out a bit too optimistical. Still high on my unexpected energy surge, I set the thing for 12km/h for 4km, you non-metrics do your own math if you like, but all you need to know really is that that pace is my top pace when averagely fit. Quick running for 20 minutes. So it was quite optimistical now, under my current less-than-average-fit circumstances. The first minute was fine, I floated on the surge. But then, and I could really feel it happening. It felt like some heavy viscous fluid started running down over my legs, like warm rubber. It made them heavy and unstable, and I couldn't run straight anymore. Having "realized" the warm rubber pouring down over me, the psychological push was in full action, breaking me down, until I had to press "Emergency Stop", and get of the fucking thing less than 3 minutes into the planned 20. Damned it. Next time though, next time!

La burbujita (the bubble)

I have had a break, as you might have noticed, or might have not. But none the less, I have had a break. I have pulled all my efforts to make a conference trip to Berlin possible. And I did it. I bloody did it! In retrospect I am pleased I went, pleased I stayed, pleased I interacted with so many I had never met before, and pleased my presentations went so well (one poster presentation and one oral presentation for all the participants (~40), both summarizing my latest scientific ehrhm...breakthroughs).

I learnt a lot of scientific stuff during a very jam packed week of lectures and social events, but also I learnt a little something about myself. I conversed with most of the other participants during the week, and at three separate occations I was told how great it must be to be so easy going, social and have the same level self-esteem as me. The first conversation was with this dutch guy, who explained to me how asocial and shy he felt, and how it must be brilliant to have it so "easy" as I do! I was provoked. I tried to make him understand how I did not feel a bit more social than he did, how I have worked my sweet little arse off to improve my skills to communicate and socialize with others, and how this was by no means something that was put into my genes or something that had come easily. And I also tried to let him realize the complete paradox; him sitting there talking to me, telling me how asocial and shy he is. I think parts of it got through. How it is all a matter of a combination of facade, practice, and techniques not coming without some hard work, stress, and nervousity.

It was a week. A whole week. In Berlin. No cute cat. I missed him like crazy.

About the picture. It is suppose to be me. On a river boat. After a number of Berliner (Berlin beer), wearing my new hat. My boyfriend is of the opinion that it reminds him of an old-lady-hat. I, not saying that it is a contradiction from previous statements, think it is cute. The spanish girl I hung out with on the boat trip called me burbujita the entire time, little bubble. I love both the shape of bubbles, and the word bubble as such, so I took it as a compliment. And did nothing to stop her. Rather, it seems I am trying to spread the nick name, does it not?

Amazing Sweden

Sometimes Sweden is just amazing, and then you really appreciate it, especially if you have lived here during the past 6 months of snow, darkness and freezing cold. Just this monday it was 6 degrees. And today...

Today I am sitting on a blanket. On my lawn. Bare foot. Wearing shorts and a short-sleeved blouse. Wishing I had sunglasses to protect me from the light. Listening to the birds singing. Watching the cats trying to prey on the singing birds and some random insects. Feeling the soft warm wind. Smelling the hyacintes and tulips. Smelling the moist soil in the flowerbeds and lawn drying. Enjoying my sisters PowerBook G4, on the lawn, over airport from my apartment.

Sometimes, Sweden is just so beutiful. And especially my back yard! It is so worth the months of snow and cold to build up the expectation for spring to arrive, and the total satisfaction when it finally does. I wouldn't want to live anywhere else.

Exit wanted

Now, you should as far as possible try to impose human properties on animals. That is my true conviction. You should always avoid putting human voices to animals, but sometimes I feel it can be excuseable to say a cat is e.g. cute or smart. Especially when it comes to Cute Cat of course, but sometimes also others. Today, I have excused myself, and am now ok with referring to Cute Cat as being smart. He was trying to learn the art of opening my front door just before we temporarily moved to another house for 2 months. As we moved back on saturday, I haven't until today seen him trying to do it.

This morning though, I woke up by the sound of my door opening. Confused, and rather impropriately undressed for a public stairwell, I wrapped myself in my cover and ran down to the main front door, and forced him back inside. I never lock my door, but now I guess I just have to. If I don't want a horny Cute Cat to run outside freely and disrupt the neighbourhood peace. But just look at the picture (when he tried another time after being forced back inside), he just stretches up, grabs hold of the handle, and pulls it down. I have not deliberately taught him this, and I have to say there is at least some intelligence involved in knowing what is behind a door, how to pull the handle, lean on the door, and run outside afterwards. I will excuse him for waking me up in such a sudden way, since it was such a smart thing to do.

Habanero incident

I am making a new batch of beans today. Beans for the Soup, the one and only Soup. I chopped 6 habaneros for the broth, and as usual when spice is in the air, I'm coughing and sneezing all over the place. I hope you already know, but if not, habanero is one of the spiciest pepper fruits there is around.

My habanero incident is classical, and as quick as stupid. To defend my intelligence, I will put it in haiku:

Habanero cut
Ongoing monthly bleeding
I put in tampon

Cool picknicking

Last time I wrote, my text was mysteriously lost in space before it was saved. I don't know what happened, but it better not happen again!

Since last, my disease has relapsed a bit. I have had to reduce my hours at work, along with increased medication. I have been feeling, hmm, not so well, which is the main reason for this break. But I love blogging, and I refuse to let some fatigue and dizzyness get in my way anymore.

Spring is inching its way into the swedish flowerbeds and lawns. Slowly, but it still seems to be on its way. Which we're all happy about, being May and everything. Yesterday it was Valborg in Sweden. We celebrate the arrival of spring with bonfires, which also are supposed to fight back the monsters of the woods. Ironically enough, it was 6 degrees outside yesterday and raining. Not really a true sign of spring, but none the less it was celebrated. All, and I really mean ALL, students were in the city park picknicking away on pasta/couscous-sallads, crackers with brie and of course, alcohol. With mittens, hats and winter coats on. Swedes are really amazing I must say. Who in their right state of mind would even consider going for a picknick when it is 6 degrees Celsius outside, and your exhale forms visible droplets. But today, the sun is shining, and spring doesn't seem so far off anymore. I guess we celebrated good enough yesterday, so the sun rewarded us with its presence today. Or probably, reluctant as I might be to admit the fact, the weather would have been like this today anyway, even if I wouldn't have gone picknicking in my long-John's and mittens yesterday.