Kamikaze Cherry

Sat, 21 Oct 2006 05:20:11 GMT

There are no words to describe how I am feeling at this moment.

A final "hej då" from Sverige!

Mon, 19 Jun 2006 13:30:32 GMT

Dear friends,
First and foremost let me just say, "HEJA SVERIGE!!!" World Cup is alive and kicking in Europe and people are going crazy. I watched the Paraguay/Sweden game at an outdoor sitting area at a pub in downtown Västerås and it was pure maddness. We had to sit five hours just told hold the spot (but it was well worth it). When that final goal was scored 85 minutes into the game-- the crowd went wild. I was happy to share the moment with them. And you better believe...everyone everywhere in Sweden knows where they'll be Tuesday night in the game against England. All I gotta say is, "Beckham better be ready for the gold and blue." I also want to celebrate with the US against their tie with Italy. Everyone is Sweden hailed the match as the "most entertaining in this World Cup." It was an unexpected "win" for my homeland.
Now, let me apologize to you all for being so absent. I've been really busy traveling, moving, finishing school and just having a blast. These past couple of months have been some of the best. When I first came to Sweden I was afraid that at the end of June I would think to myself, "I've been living in Europe for 10 months and I have nothing to show for it." Well, the end of June is here and I don't feel that way at all. I have no regrets about my time here-- I've done everything I wanted to do with the time and money available to me. I've changed in ways I haven't even discovered yet and I've really developed as a person. I've learned about the world--through means outside the classroom--I've traveled to four different countries, made friends all over the world, and done the partying expected of any 20-something girl in Europe. It's truly been amazing.
Let me start this catch-up game by writing about London. I traveled to London to meet up with the Flagler summer class "Shakespeare's London" (taught by my advisor, Dr. Todd Lidh) and one of my best friends (and roommates since Freshman year) Meredith Brace-Sloss. I was introduced to new friends and was actually permitted a bed (they had an extra one in the hotel where they were staying). This was a big luxury for me, I thought I was going to have to sleep on the floor for five nights. (Thanks again, TL) I'd also like to give myself a little pat on the back for traveling to London "all by myself"-- I flew into Luton airport without any idea of how I was going to get into London downtown (or the hotel!). But I made it safe and sound and met my friends over fish'n'chips in Piccadilly Circus. The next day we traveled to St. Paul's Cathedral and climbed an excruciating long spiral staircase to the very top. The view from the top was magnificent. We saw the changing of the guards at Buckingham Palace and went to a football match at a real British pub. Meredith drank Guinness and felt truly European. We visited Shakespeare's Globe theater the next day and saw "Coriolanus." The play is written as a tragedy but this one was directed to be a tragic comedy. It was hilarious at parts, and heart-wrenching in others. Coriolanus was extremely good-looking (which Meredith and I greatly appreciated) and the play ended with him falling lifeless into the crowd and having his heart ripped out of his chest and held up for the audience to see. It was a real crowd-pleaser. :-) I went off on my own one day and saw Big Ben and Westminster Abbey. I went to the National Portrait Gallery and saw a "moving portrait." It was a flat screen tv hung on the wall of David Beckham sleeping. A 107-minute loop shows a close-up Beckham sleeping, changing positions, scratching his head, etc. It was a bit creepy and I felt like a perverted voyeur. But you know what they say about art...My last night in London was great. The whole class went out dancing and drinking and we had an awesome time. We made sure to "mind the gap" on the subway trip back to the hotel and watched the Eurovision Song Contest. We watched a Finnish monster-rock band clad in monster costumes win the whole contest. It was entertaining, to say the least.
My final days in Växjö were tearful. Watching each corridor mate leave until finally it was my turn was difficult. Some people I don't expect to talk to again, but some I truly hope I do. To those people I cared most about, I wrote them a small note explaining what they meant to me with all my contact information on it. I'm sure I'll be having some visitors in either FL or MD.
I traveled down to Landskrona to say goodbye to my Swedish relatives. They made me a delicious Swedish dish, kåldolmar--stuffed cabbage. I was introduced to their children and grandchildren-- all of whom I'm related. We had a BBQ and played a Swedish lawn game called Kubb. The next day, we ventured to Copenhagen and saw the Danish Museum of Design, two castles, and ate on the famous strip of bayside with all the colorful houses. We could not have asked for better weather that day, it was perfect. I said a final farewell to them and drove back to Växjö to collect my things and ventured the 5 hour journey to Västerås, where I'm ending my stay with Erik. He and I attended his brother's medieval wedding. We were requested to dress in medieval clothing and ate the wedding dinner with wooden bowls and spoons. Unfortunately, every time someone stood to make a toast I couldn't understand a word-- but it was good times despite the language barrier. This Friday marks Midsummer Eve in Sweden and this is the day all of Sweden will raise a Maypole and dance and sing around it. This is the second largest holiday in Sweden and the reason I lengthened my stay. Erik's father has requested me to make some "American pies" and a side dish (which I hope to take my Grandmother's infamous and delicious carrot loaf).
So I'll end this email saying cheers to all! I hope you catch some of the game on Tuesday and think of me. I'll see you all soon (I hope). It's been an amazing journey and I was happy to share it with you. All my love, Jessica

"The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only one page."
~St. Augustine

Holy Mother of all that is good...

Mon, 01 May 2006 10:37:45 GMT

I'm thinking about applying to NYU Grad School. Can you people imagine ME running around Manhattan?! Holy crap! How coold would that be?! I don't know if I could handle NYC, but for two years it shouldn't be so bad, should it? And yes, you can use and abuse me for a free place to stay-- as long as you take me out for drinks. :-) Sex in the city...and I will be on the prowl for my own personal NYC Derek Shepherd. He encapsulates everything I want in a man. I just need to take him out of a tv sitcom and place him in real life and have him fall in love with me. Easy, right? Wait...I haven't even been accepted yet...Life is so much freakier day by day.

Thu, 27 Apr 2006 18:22:26 GMT

Why did I start crying today when looking through the Graduation pics from a couple of weeks ago? Maybe because I realize that that will be me in about 7 months. I'm not ready for life...

SWEDEN SWEDEN SWEDEN

Sun, 23 Apr 2006 13:34:53 GMT

Hello friends! I'm sorry for my neglectful behavior; I've been meaning to write for a while now. First, let me share my excitement about all the snow melting in this part of Sweden! It happened the first weekend in April and I think all the Swedes let out a long sigh of relief. They claim that this has been the longest winter in twenty years. (Of course it had to occur the ONE year I came to Sweden! I just keep telling myself that it's God's way of telling me that I belong in the USA hereafter. Haha!) I'm beginning to acknowledge the fast that I come home in two months and so I'm doing all the things I have been obtaining from-- mostly going out and partying! Never again will I be able to share nights with the friends I have met here, never again will I be able to frequent the pubs on campus and never again will I be able to be 21 in Sweden. This is the time of my life and I am milking it for all it's worth! I'm not sure if I've written since my 21st birthday party or not, but just to quickly note...I had an amazing black and white party. Tons of people came and complimented me on the success of it. I wore a beautiful black and white dress that I can't wait to debut in St. Augustine and G'Burg. Thank you everyone for your warm birthday wishes! It really made me feel closer to home!
My class took a two-night field trip to Stockholm. Being my third trip to Stockholm, I thought I had seen it all. But had I! We went to Parliament and listened to Göran Persson, the Prime Minister, tackle questions about Sweden's lack of contribution to the Asian tsunami. Unfortunately, it was all in Swedish and it was (to me) really, really boring. We went to Rinkeby, an area outside of Stockholm home to the majority of Sweden's immigrants. I guess one could call it Sweden's largest "ghetto" -- even though "ghettos" don't really exist in a Social Democrat state. Sweden has been homogenous for most of its history so the recent traffic into Sweden has produced neighbourhoods on-display for international college students. Coming from outside the DC-Metropolitan area, I didn't see what all the fuss was about. The BEST part of the Stockholm trip was the Vasa museum. In the early 17th century, Sweden was at war with Poland and the king at the time wanted Sweden to build the biggest war ship of its time. Sweden accomplished that feat. It was a spectacle to the eye...beautiful colorful paint, intricate wood carving and two rows (two rows? two rows!) of firing cannons. It was the most magnificent and impressive war ship at the time. The day that it set sail, the beautiful ship was sailing out of the harbor...they lifted the windows to the cannons and let out a salute to all of Stockholm (most of Stockholm's citizens were out at the harbor, watching its great accomplishment sail for the first time). Just as the shot was fired, a large gust of wind blew through the harbor making the ship tilt a bit on its side. Water rushed in the bottom row of firing cannon windows. The ship, however, attained balance again just in time for the Swedes to let out a sigh of relief. Just as that sigh was released, however, a SECOND gust of wind came through and the poor Vasa ship sunk to the bottom of Stockholm's bay. It was forgotten about until this 20th century, when Swedish historians remembered that a great treasure lay right beneath them. They recovered the vessel in the 1950s and it stands (in tact!) in a beautiful and amazing museum on the bay. You can see a picture of the boat (and navigate around the museum's website, just make sure you set the language to English) at: www.vasamuseet.se. It was quite a sight, I was impressed. One of Sweden's greatest failures is one of the tourist attractions that they display most proudly. I'll let you figure out the irony there...
We also visited one of the churches in Stockholm where we were introduced to a former cocaine-addict who had found God and changed his life around. The next day, we visited a mosque where we were introduced to a Swedish Muslim. The Muslim was happy to answer all of our questions about Islam and the mosque. My teacher, who I thought to be a rational, modern and accepting man, burst out to the Muslim that he was preaching to us students. There was a brief verbal argument, but I didn't think the Muslim was "preaching" any more than the cokehead before him. I certainly wasn't expecting the outburst from my teacher. All of the women had to cover their hair and clothes with robes that they provided us and I couldn't help but reflect a feeling of segregation. Here I was, covered, and there were the boys--some with hair just as long as mine, with shorts, rather than pants (like I wore). It was a peculiar feeling, but in a way I was happy to experience it. I'd like to think it brought me some understanding...
Now, don't worry and think that we were so busy studying in Stockholm that we didn't have enough time to "get down and boogie." The class made sure to hit the pub and dance the nights away...most memorable.
Easter was great! I spent it with Erik's family and they were happy to accept me as one of their own (despite the language barrier). Because both of Erik's parents have had previous marriages, we experienced THREE Easter dinners...a weekend filled with food. It was actually done a bit differently than home. For one, there was no church...no mention of the "reason for the season"...no dinner-prayer. Instead, on the Thursday before Easter, the little girls and boys of Sweden dress up as "påskkärring and påskgubbar" (Easter witches and Easter geezers). The girls wrap their hair in bandanas, paint freckles on their faces and carry baskets. They go door to door and trick-or-treat (I'm NOT kidding). If you don't believe me, GOOGLE IT. Houses are decorated with flying witches on broomsticks and bare tree branches with colorful feathers glued to them. I think it looks like a parrot exploded, but the branches are sold for about $4 each and you need about 5 branches for a good display. When Christianity came to Sweden, the Swedes didn't want to forego their Pagan holidays...so there remains small hints of Paganism...witches at Easter, and dancing around a phallic-Maypole during Midsummer. Every day before the meal we would all sit in the sun room and share fika (the coffee breaks that I have mentioned before). We drank strong Swedish coffee and had small pieces of pastries...cinnamon buns, strudel, cake, bread. We then all sat around the Easter table and drank lätt öl (light beer-- light in alcohol content, not in calories). We ate LOTS of potatoes. Boiled, au gratin and Johnson’s frestelse (scalloped potatoes with anchovies). We didn't eat ham; we ate (naturally) köttbullar (meatballs) and prinskorv (little hotdogs). There were three different types of sill (herring) and a large egg omelette stuffed with crayfish, shrimp, salmon, sour cream and cheese. My favorite dish was a type of Swedish-quiche with hardboiled eggs (closely resembling deviled eggs) and caviar. Det var jättegott! (It was very tasty!) Dessert was called "marängsvisch" (meringue swish) and it consisted of sliced bananas, bite-sized meringues, scoops of vanilla ice cream and warm chocolate sauce. I was in heaven! After dessert we retreated back into the sunroom to have more coffee and more pastries. Wow...I suppose you could guess that my diet was ruined.
For Christmas, Erik gave me a cruise to Finland and this week, we travelled the Baltic. It was a two night cruise with a one-day trip to Finland in-between. When we pulled into the bay in Helsinki, it was still frozen! We sailed through sheets of ice and frozen waters. We spent the day exploring a 5-level mall (one of the largest I have ever seen!), a church over-looking the city, and a small marketplace on the bay. The market place was crammed with individual food stands specializing in meats, fish, cheeses, olives, pastries, candy and wine. It had an old-world flavor and has apparently been around since the early 1800s. The weather in Helsinki was sunny, but cold. Erik kept remarking about how Sweden is always one-up on the Finns (I guess he's a little more patriotic than he cares to admit). The night coming home, Erik and I sat and listened to the ship's troubadour. We kept requesting favorites, and I ended up belting "Home Sweet Alabama" with a bunch of drunk Swedes and Finns. It was too comical to try to put in an email. Anyhow, I have pics that I will post soon...so check back at the end of the week to my website. I miss you all and will see some of you soon! My next stop is London on May 16th. I'll be there a week sharing pints and fish n' chips with some of my favorite people at Flagler. Please write and update me with your lives. You have no idea how much I love them! Sorry this email was so long. Thinking of each and every one of you. Always, Jess

...Because I'm bored

Mon, 10 Apr 2006 23:03:01 GMT

Step 1: Put your MP3 player or whatever on random.
Step 2: Post a line from the first 20 songs that play, no matter how embarrassing the song.
Step 3: Post and let everyone you know guess what song and artist the lines come from.
Step 4: Strike out the songs when someone guesses correctly.
Step 5: No cheating.

***1. There are places I remember all my life, though some have changed. (Guessed, "In my life" by the Beatles...even though the version I have is DMB's)
2. I heard about some guy that you beat pretty bad and got it in the papers.
3. Sit. Good dog. Stay. Bad dog. Down! Roll over. Here's a good man and a pretty young girl trying to play together somehow.
4. We at war with terrorism, we at war with racism, but most of all...we at war with ourselves.
5. Over the mountains and the sea, Your river runs with love for me and I will open up my heart and let the Healer set me free.
6. We jammin'. I wanna jam it with you.
7. People can you feel it? Love is everywhere. People can you hear it? Songs in the air.
8. I've seen your picture. Your name in lights above it. This is your big debut. Your dream come true.
9. The sun is sure sinking down, but the moon is slowly rising. So this old world must still be spinning round and I still love you.
***10. Comin' out of my cage and I've been doing just fine. Gotta gotta be down because I want it all. (Guessed, "Mr. Brightside" by The Killers)
***11. Whenever I'm with him, something inside starts to burn me and I'm filled with desire. (Guessed, "Heatwave" by the Supremes)
12. Welcome to the planet. Welcome to existence. Everyone is here, everyone is here.
***13. He was working through college on my grandpa's farm. I was thirstin' for knowledge and he had a car. (Guessed, "Strawberry Wine" by Deana Carter)
***14. I hear the drums echoing tonight, cheetahs only whispers of some quiet conversation. (Guessed, "Africa" by Toto)
15. You do that romeo, be what you want to be. Looks like you're running in place, do that stupid dance for me.
***16. I've got some big news. The bank finally came through. And I'm holding the keys to a brand new Chevrolet. (Guessed, "Mud on the Tires" by Brad Paisley)
***17. Breathe in. Breathe out. Breath in. Breathe out. Breathe in... (Guessed, "Machinehead" by Bush)
***18. Riders on the storm. Riders on the storm. Into this house we're born, into this world we're thrown. (Guessed, "Riders on the Storm" by The Doors)
19. Jag har lurat mig själv för många gånger nu. Jag trodde kärlek som din var lätt att fånga nu.
20. Just a small town girl living in a lonely world. She took the midnight train going anywhere.

I Agree Whole-Heartedly

Thu, 06 Apr 2006 08:48:01 GMT

An Article from "The Washington Post"

Let Moussaoui Live

By Richard Cohen
Thursday, April 6, 2006; 12:00 AM

The way things are going, the United States government will succeed where Zacarias Moussaoui could not. This convicted terrorist, this whack job with a suicidal bent, will almost certainly be put to death -- which is one more death than he was able to manage on his own. In the end, Moussaoui may turn out to be a suicide bomber on a four-year fuse.

Moussaoui's fate is of no concern to me. He is a very bad man, complicit in an evil plot for which he claims a central, though probably exaggerated, role. Whatever the case, he certainly set out to kill innocent Americans and whether he actually did so or not seems beside the point. He was in a position to abort the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks and he did nothing to stop them. For that, he may die. So be it.

Nonetheless, while the American sense of justice might be satisfied, that is not how many other people will see it. Instead, they might marvel at how much effort had gone into the killing of a single man. They will note his trial and the lengthy part of it devoted to determining if he is worthy of the death penalty and then whether or not he will get it. The process is almost a parody of justice -- a laborious procedure to carry out what most of us recognize is nothing more than revenge. Call it justice if you will, we all know what it really is.

That, of course, is probably Moussaoui's take on it as well. He seems determined to become a martyr. He might have slipped the noose after the government bollixed up its own case when a lawyer coached some witnesses. Had he simply not taken the stand and let his lawyers talk for him, he might have averted the death penalty. Not only did he insist on testifying, he was insulting and unfeeling and downright hateful. Here was a man crying out for execution. With the government's help, he will attain what he always wanted -- martyrdom.

If I had my way, I would deny Moussaoui his opportunity. I would do so not just because it is pretty clear the man is crazy and, on account of that, he played a marginal role at best in the 9/11 plot, but because I would not complete the plot for him. I would not grant him what he wanted from the day he stepped foot in America -- his own death. If, in his case, the punishment is to fit the crime, then he would suffer most by spending the rest of his life behind bars. When he dies of old age, he will have been forgotten. In no place will people gather to mark his death. That will not happen if he is executed.

Of course, I would not seek his death in any case. I am opposed to capital punishment -- not for Moussaoui's sake or for another guy's, but for our own. The taking of life is something we should not permit government to do. In the first place, life is inviolate. Second, governments have abused this power in the past and will do so in the future. It is no accident that Europe bans the death penalty. Under Hitler, Stalin and others, Europeans learned what government can do.

Societies have their own, peculiar, reasons for taking life. Afghanistan was about to execute a man for converting from Islam to Christianity. To many Afghans, this seemed inarguably to be the right thing to do. In Iraq, Awad Haman Bander, a former judge under Saddam Hussein, confessed to sentencing 148 Shiites to death at one time. It was all legal, he said, with the proper papers being signed and confessions in order. Nothing out of the ordinary. Stamp, stamp. Take them away.

It is naive, I know, but it would be wonderful if the United States showed that as a matter of principle, it does not take a life. It is naive because other governments would not follow -- not right away, anyway. But in time, anything is possible and just as we, bit by bit, have restricted the death penalty so that it is rarely imposed, so may the rest of the world restrain its blood thirst.

Zacarias Moussaoui's execution will do no good. We will see it as justice, but so will he. With a lot of money and immense effort, we will give some of the world another martyr -- and Osama bin Laden can finally close the book on his most successful mission.

Swedish Spectacular

Thu, 23 Mar 2006 13:34:49 GMT

Tjena from the other side of the ocean! It's been a long time since I've written so I've decided to catch everyone up on my past, current and upcoming activities.
Today something happened which I consider to be monumental. I was registering to become a member of Flagler College's online newspaper when I was confronted with the inevtiable "user name" question. All my life I've used the webname "svenskablondie" (swedish blondie). I've used it as my AOL screenname, and as my registered user names to various websites. Today, however, faced with the question of MY webname...MY identity...MY persona...I typed in the name "AmericanBlondie" (no translation needed). What I've come to realize here in Sweden is that while my ancestry lies in Sweden, I am undoubtedly American. I identify with Americans, I love American literature, I love American lifestyle, I am American. The best gift I've recieved in studying overseas is I've truly learned to appreciate "home." Before leaving my school, my family, my friends, I considered most things in my life as unfastened-- that if I was left up to my own devices, I'd be able to survive. Being removed from these things, however, has made me cherish everything that I'm a part of back home. My friends are irreplaceable, people that I can see lasting relationships with throughout my life. My family is the thing that keeps me focused and motivated...challenging me to achieve all the things I desire. My school is amazing-- awesome teachers who really know how to excite their students into pursuing the answers they seek. Going to class in Florida is so enjoyable (if you've done the reading, hehe), prepared to challenge both the class and the professor with dynamite questions. I love my life and I love my home and I'm excited to come back.
I do, however, have 3 more months in this tundra up here. The snow is slowly melting, day by day. It's created an obstacle course to get to class...dodging slush puddles, ice patches and snow piles. It's a mess but they assure me that spring is on its way. This Saturday is Swedish Waffle Day (I kid you not) and one of the clubs is hosting a Wafle Night on Tuesday. Twenty kronor (about $2.50) will buy me 5 waffles packed with strawberries and ice cream. That's the right price on a college kid's budget (and surprisingly cheap for Sweden). The girls from my corridor are traveling to the first IKEA ever this weekend and I will be joining them. I don't need anything (and I'm lacking space in my suitcases to transport everything home as it is) but IKEA is one of those places you can roam around in and just have a good time. Only simple pleasures for me. I'm also planning my May London trip where I'll be meeting up with some fellow Flagler students (as well as my advisor) during their two week course abroad. I'm really looking forward to visiting England and acting as a tourist for a little while. It should be a spectacular time.
I had my birthday earlier this month (thanks to everyone for their good wishes). I had a lovely black and white themed party and everyone congratulated me on throwing the fun event. It's still hard to believe that I'm 21...I'm getting so old. In Feruary I went ice fishing. Erik and I went out on the lake at his parents' house with two small fishing poles, two fold-up chairs and an ice drill. We drilled and drilled and drilled until finally we made a 8" in diameter hole. We sat out for about an hour and half until we were frozen ourselves. We failed to catch anything except minor colds. In the first module of my current class, Swedish Politics, I recieved the highest marks possible-- let's hope I keep up the good work. I'm keeping busy by reading, downloading some movies, hanging out with friends and waiting for the warm weather. I'm excited to celebrate Easter and I've even found a church service in English in Stockholm. I think I may be headed into the city for the holiday. Speaking of Stockholm, my class is taking a 3-day fieldtrip there next week. I have to give an oral presentation on the assisnation of King Gustav III. It's actually a pretty cool story-- he was shot at a masquerade ball. Can you imagine? Just like out of Hollywood.
I'm currently looking into the possibility of teaching English in Thailand for six months next spring. Nothing is set in stone, but it never hurts to have ideas. I think Sweden has given me the travel bug, which as my friend Margo said, "That's a pretty good bug to have." With that, I hope you all are doing well and enjoying the warm outdoors (as I'm sure it's warmer than here). I miss you all terribly and I can't wait to see you over the summer and fall. Please write and let me know how everyone is doing-- I'm always interested in the people I care about. Love you all, Jessica

"The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only one page."
~St. Augustine

46% SATANISM?!!?!?!

Mon, 13 Mar 2006 15:18:06 GMT

You scored as Christianity. Your views are most similar to those of Christianity. Do more research on Christianity and possibly consider being baptized and accepting Jesus, if you aren't already Christian.

Christianity is the second of the Abrahamic faiths; it follows Judaism and is followed by Islam. It differs in its belief of Jesus, as not a prophet nor historical figure, but as God in human form. The Holy Trinity is the concept that God takes three forms: the Father, the Son (Jesus), and the Holy Ghost (sometimes called Holy Spirit). Jesus taught the idea of instead of seeking revenge, one should love his or her neighbors and enemies. Christians believe that Jesus died on the cross to save humankind and forgive people's sins.

</td>

Christianity

67%

Paganism

54%

Buddhism

50%

Islam

50%

Satanism

46%

agnosticism

46%

Hinduism

42%

Judaism

38%

atheism

17%

Which religion is the right one for you? (new version)
created with QuizFarm.com

I want to be Ellie, so....

Mon, 20 Feb 2006 15:45:57 GMT

What do you think of me???

http://kevan.org/johari?name=JessicaHanson

...ever feel?

Fri, 17 Feb 2006 11:45:18 GMT

Ever feel like you're between a rock and a hard place? That's me right now. I'm so confused with life. I feel like I'm lowering my standards and accepting actions that I wouldn't have before. Why? Because my mother loves him? Because my family loves him? Because he's good looking? Why do I still think about Bud? Why do I compare everyone to Bud? Why am I afraid that I will never feel the way Bud made me feel? And why does it hurt me that everyone HATES who I love and everyone LOVES the one that isn't treating me how he should. This isn't what love is supposed to be like. You're supposed to worry about losing the one you love-- not think about leaving him. Why is this totally ruining my weekend? Something needs to be done.. but I need to be patient. I hate patience. I hate this.

Why do I..

Fri, 10 Feb 2006 20:06:56 GMT

Why do I look like pedofile "Debra LaFave?" My uncle said he saw her on tv. and thought it was me. Thanks, Uncle Brad! :-(

You can find her picture here: http://images.google.se/imgres?imgurl=http://wwwimage.cbsnews.com/images/2004/12/03/image659026x.jpg&imgrefurl=http://www.cbsnews.com/stories/2004/12/03/earlyshow/main658998_popup0_1.shtml&h=278&w=370&sz=35&tbnid=yJxhlJXqVLtrWM:&tbnh=88&tbnw=118&hl=sv&start=34&prev=/images%3Fq%3DDebra%2BLafave%26start%3D20%26svnum%3D10%26hl%3Dsv%26lr%3D%26sa%3DN

Uncanny.

Damn, two posts in ONE DAY?!

Tue, 07 Feb 2006 20:49:54 GMT

My poetry is shit, I know it...you know it...we know it. But I still like to post it for the world to criticize. Indulge me.

"Seasons"
Boughs of weak-limbed pines
bend in a snow-mourning.
Slick-back waxed feathers shimmer
on the shivering bodies of a family of five
playing an ice-skating-balance game
to see who can stand the longest.
As if God hushed the wood
the world holds its breath
waiting to exhale the moisture of spring's awakening
when tea-cup-tulips spear their way up
to sunbathe and sigh whispers to eachother
as they softly drop their petals.
Joyful to have shaped a polk-a-dot world of color
while sadly sacrificing themselves to another blazing summer.

"Saturated Sweetened World"
Outside my train car window
The world is tinted rose
Fields comforted with pink snow frosting
A tundra birthday cake
Beneath
The frozen lakes, gummy fish
Swim in a darkness that won't end until May
Candy dots stick to the black paper sky
Waiting to be ripped off by some
Solar gaseous explosion
A spooned dollop of heavy
Whipping cream moon
Awakes the chilled peppermint pines
Needles shine like syringes tempting
To those who search for the ultimate [sugar] high
And there's nothing but silence
As children sleep unaware of the world's graham cracker crust
We are the Hanzels and Gretels of the world
Waiting to grow up to be gingerbread men in three piece suits
And pepparkakor ladies with glazed Jackie-O haircuts
We live in our gingerbread houses with our
Cotton candy poodles fetching the Sunday paper which we read
Because were good, intellectual folk
Law abiding citizens looking to find our bread crumb trail
Home.

"As I Am"
Skin reflecting primaries in the looking-glass pool
where we've escaped to view our true selves.
Peel off layers of cotton and lean to look
you bare blue and it fits.
A contrast against the milkiness of the moon
spilled in the night to remind the world not to cry.
Without hesitation you gaze at yourself
and all your intimate parts which create
escalationexplosionexhaustion.
But I take my time as you urge me on.
Viewing first a speckled arm
splattered from a freckled paintbrush.
Stalling on my shoulder to view its blade and axle
stretching skin in all direction.
It's a wonder it does not rip open and snap the threaded tendons
which keep us in an intricate cross-stitch.
The crevaces of my collar swallow light in one large gulp.
And my eyes carry more secrets than they admit.
In her entirety, I humbly stare at the girl in my reflection.
She refuses to lie and I percieve the truth.
Just as you are bathed in blue, I have an inner-glow.
From depth of chest, warmth breathes from me.
You stop and for the frist time
your eyes tickle the cruves of my frame and you
discover the grace in your devoted love.

"Pub Love"
There was you
And there was me
I didnt think you saw my eyes
Hiding behind a shiney gloss of
Coconut rum and cranberry 1..2..3..4?
I saw you
And you saw her
I was just there, leaning closer
To catch the scent dancing on your collar
You didnt care to give me a glance
And I was crushed ice in my tall, tall, glass.

Struggling with Life

Tue, 07 Feb 2006 10:44:02 GMT

It's been awhile since I've just written to WRITE. Blogging is something that I have never been able to get in the habit of (even though I absolutely love to talk about myself-- I'm so Oprah).
One thought that has been concerning me most lately is, "Omigod-- am I...a lib?!" Let's take a closer look at this question, shall we? I feel I have a close and personal relationship with Jesus-- but my days are trying to convert the world are over. However, despite my religious affiliations-- I support gay marriage (but despise homosexuals who define themselves by their sexuality.)
"Hi, I'm Jessica...I just happen to be straight" Well...maybe bi...it's up for debate.
It shouldn't be, "Hi, I'm gay and I just happen to be John Doe."
I support womens' right to choose yet I don't endorse abortion. I endorse a better sexual health education with endless supply of contraceptives to EVERYONE. Which gets me to this-- I believe pharmaceutical companies are the spawn of Satan. I don't believe in giving free money to lazy citizens; and I also don't believe that people CANNOT help themselves. I completely understand that as a upper-middle-class white female I was given a plethora of opportunities that I would not have received should I have been, say, black. I have no idea what it feels like to be black, Asian, Middle Eastern, Hispanic, etc. I know what it is like to be white. But given these opportunities, I have witnessed many people that embrace the fact that they're 'oppressed'. Instead of fighting it, they bitch about it. (Not everyone, mind you, and I can see that I'm kind of getting side-tracked so I'm going to change the subject.) I support equal opportunity and I think all people should embrace every opportunity given to them. Everyone in the United States is offered free education up until 18. I can imagine that I am naive about the concept of choosing between "working to survive" and "sitting in a classroom and therefor forfeiting working hours." But I am a TRUE believer that all power comes with education. I think that in Iraq, we should be setting up multitudes of schools to start educating the NEXT generation. There would, of course, be retaliation to the big bag U.S. coming in to teach those things that we find most important. But when it comes to the Middle East and radical Muslims-- I have come to realize that I don't think I will ever be able to understand certain aspects of their culture. With these Danish cartoons circulating around the world, embassies burning down, people getting threatened, murdered, fearing for their lives...it is hard for me to understand where all of this extreme hatred comes from. Maybe in the U.S. we are experienced-targets. We know what it feels like to have been made fun of. There have been political cartoons about almost everyone and everything-- and that's the great thing about tolerance. We know how to be offended without wanting to kill anyone. How many Catholics have heard a Priest/alter boy joke? I would hope that most of us are rational human beings. There's nothing wrong with being offended and feeling targeted. However, logically it would make more sense to break stereotypes by refusing to do exactly what the world expects of you. Well, let me rephrase. I don't think anyone expected the backlash in the Muslim world that these cartoons have caused. However, does it really come as a surprise? Some of me, remains holding on to ideas of the GOP-- I like the feeling of a country with good moral standing and an 'American Dream' mentality. I don't like the feeling of the U.S. being humiliated, bruised or damaged. (Then again, who does? Everyone, I hope, has SOME patriotism in them-- no matter what country they come from.) But where should these morals stem from? Certainly gay marriage does not fit in with stereotypical conservative views. And where does this put me? All I know is NEXT voting season I promise to be better informed. I think whoever the next President is, he's going to have a hell of a time cleaning up the mess the United States is in. But I also think his (sorry, but there's no way in hell a woman is going to get elected) main concern should be to reunite this country. As Americans, we suck as a divided country. Abraham Lincoln believed in the unity of the U.S.A.-- "A house divided against itself cannot stand." I just wish there was more peace in the world. I have a friend (the next Mother Theresa, I swear) who has spent her entire college life abroad. She's been to Malta and now she's somewhere in the Pacific. She's fighting for equality and womens' rights. Her motto for life is Ghandi's, "We must BE the change we wish to see in the world." When I compare her life to mine, I feel like whatever I'm doing is insufficient. Sure, I could go and run to Africa and help in some clinic-- or join some Habitat for Humanity program in South America...but I don't. Why? Because I'm selfish. I have goals for myself and my life. But in the long run, if I DO finish my entire education and become a teacher-- maybe I can make a difference in the classroom. I think it's a shame that in America we are a little isolated in that we don't study European politics or history as much as we study American. And yet while our own country's history and government is important, we're not alone in the world. The rest of the world HATES America right now-- why? The media? The war? Bush? Whatever the reason...they hate us. (Some of the hate is unjustified, absolutely...and much of the European youth that hates America has never even set foot on American soil.) BUT we need to look outside of American borders and see our influence everywhere else. I'll defend my country until the end. I love my country. But what I think my country needs is a little more unity. We hate each other. Why? And which line of the fence do I fall? Maybe I AM just one big naive white chick. But damnit, I hope twenty-one years of living a life rich in education, love and support would prepare me more than that. I feel like my life hasn't even begun to reach near its full potential. But I'm working on it..and I'm slowly opening my eyes. There's hope for me, yet.

What? You thought I'd just forget about you?!

Sat, 04 Feb 2006 00:27:09 GMT

Hej all! I'm back! :-)
Must I say it? I think I must...I think I'm on my way closer to becoming a genuine Svensk! How am I accomplishing this, do you ask? I am escaping the confines of my cave-dorm and beginning to enjoy the great outdoors. I mean, the sunlight is actually lasting until 5pm! Last year, because my classes didn't start until 1 pm, I got in the horrible rut of waking up at noon, going to class, and walking home from class in the dark at 4:30pm. Jessica couldn't get any sunshine that way. But alas! This semester, I have begun another diet and I'm walking the hour and fifteen minute path around frozen Lake Vaxjo. While it is usually well under freezing, I have mastered the art of layering and wrapping and covering and tucking. An hour into the walk, I'm sweating and I start to shed layers. It starts to feel more like sixty degrees. Hopefully, the next time you all see me, I'll be half the Jessica I was before.
Erik and I had a fantastic time home over Christmas break. We ventured to New York City and saw the Broadway play, "Avenue Q." By gosh, it was an amazing show (the winner of the 2004 Tony, by the way). If you ever find yourself in NYC, I recommend Avenue Q. Erik, your typical I-don't-like-anything-on-a-stage-put-to-music 23-year old male, loved it. We were both rolling in the aisles with laughter. We went to his must-see destination--WalMart (nej, SUPER WalMart). I pressured him to ask a employee with hair bigger than your average sized labrador where he could find European outlet converters. So meek little Erik approached this blue-aproned employee and asked in the best English he could muster, "Excuse me, where can I find outlet converters?" To which the lady replied in the best English SHE could, "You want what?" Needless to say, his venture to find rednecks and his desire to see WalMart went hand in hand with one another. We went to a Philly Flyers game and saw some Swedish hockey players, we visited the Baltimore Aquarium (courtesy of my Uncle John), were interviewed at Montgomery Mall as "last minute Holiday shoppers" for News 4, toured the Smithsonian and had two amazing Christmas dinners. One consisting of American-Swedish meatballs and another consisting of bacon-wrapped filet mignon. One of the highlights of the Christmas break was when my grandmother proudly displayed a Swedish prayer that had been read in the family for generations to Erik and asked Erik to interpret it. At first glance, Erik leaned over to me and whispered something in my ear.
"What did he say?!" My grandmother asked me.
"Grandma, this prayer is in Norwegian." We all had a good laugh. But because Swedish and Norwegian are so closely related, the same prayer is used in both languages and sounds practically the same.
There's a lot of controvery in Scandinavia right now concerning the political cartoon upset in Denmark. Norwegian, Swedish and Dannish companies are all losing lots of money right now due to the strikes and boycots. If you don't know, a Denmark newspaper printed political cartoons and caricatures of Muhammad to prove that they had complete freedom of the press. However, in the Muslim religion Muhammad's picture is strictly forbidden to be printed, painted, reproduced, etc. So you can imagine how cartoons of Muhammad with a bomb-shaped turban went over. Anyhow, it's kind of a big deal.
I've started my second semester. It's turning out to be really easy and fun. This whole time in Sweden seems like a large vacation -- educational, but vacation nonetheless. I took a practice GRE (the test I have to take for grad school admissions) last night and the results were not desirable. It was a crack of reality that I will have to eventually RETURN to reality. Better start cracking back to the books. I finished the final book in "The Emigrants" series. I wept pretty hard at the end. You follow this family for fifty years so when they die, it feels like members of your own family die. Good books, highly recommended.
I'm trying to change my plane ticket from June 9th to June 27th. It seems like everything is happpening in June-- Erik's birthday, we were both invited to his brother's wedding (with medieval theme), and Midsummer (practically the largest Swedish celebration) occurs on the 25th. Unfortunately change-of-ticket costs $100, so guess what I'm asking for my birthday? (Which is, March 1st-- the big 2-1!)
Well, that's what's going on in MY life. Hope everyone is well, and I hope to hear about your lives as well. I feel a little out-of-the-loop (don't know why...) My love to you all, I miss everyone terribly (that includes Nalu's Baja Fish Tacos), Happy Valentine's Day to you all! XOX Jess

"The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only one page."
~St. Augustine

Funny how during exams everyone updates pretty frequently. PROCRASTINATORS!!!

Wed, 07 Dec 2005 20:24:50 GMT

January: In the year 2005, I resolve to wrestle an aligator.
February: Dear Mr. X, I think about you a lot and I wonder if what we once had was all a dream.
March: Sometimes I think teachers arer just bullshitting me to make me think I’m smart, only to unveil the whole thing to me in the end and laugh in my face.
April: My sis says I need to update this mofo, so here goes…Tonight I’m getting inducted into STD! (haha, jk, Sigma Tau Delta—the English Honors Society here on campus)
May: I am 43% republican.
June: My IQ is 115.
July: I’m making sushi and thinking of Meredith.
August: It seems to me that the only time I update this damn ”blog” is when I am procrastinating something BIG.
September: Yay California!
October: I know I’ve been in Sweden too long when…
November: Tjena everyone! I’m sitting at my computer, looking out the window at the golfball-sized snowflakes falling and sticking to the ground.

Overall, 2005 was a pretty weird year. I pined for Bud and when he finally came back, I turned him away. I fell in love with Greg, he slept with someone else while we were together, fefll out of love with Greg, got a care package in Sweden from him. I moved to Sweden, fell into a relationship, have him leave me for 7 weeks and in the meantime start hanging out with a really hot Swede. Damn, I'm bad. Anyway, looking forward to 2006.....I'm LEGAL BABY YEAH!

GOD JUL!

Wed, 30 Nov 2005 16:16:00 GMT

God Jul! Merry Christmas!
How is everyone?! I hope you all had a wonderful November. My November went by extremely fast (just as September and October). There’s blanket of snow on the ground and I have a good feeling it won’t melt until March. I have to get used to constant white. It’s very beautiful.
Two weeks ago my class had a fieldtrip to an agricultural school. The high school system is a little different here in Sweden than in the USA. High schools have separate concentrations (medical, arts, etc). We went to an agriculture school and ran around with dairy cows, chickens, horses, sheep, goats, geese, cats, dogs, etc. It was like being down on the farm and it was actually pretty fun. It was nice to escape the classroom for awhile and get outside of Växjö. For lunch we went to our professor’s house and had a smörgåsbord. Det var jättefint! (It was really fine!) I tried a variety of Swedish food: prinskorv (prince sausage), Jonssons Frestelse (Jonsson’s Temptation, a mix of scalloped potatoes and anchovies), köttbullar (meatballs) and julmust (Christmas cola). We had a good time laughing and eating. Despite our teacher’s persistent pleas to have us speak Swedish—we were chatting so quickly, we found it too tiring to try and stop to translate what we wanted to say. Our excitement overruled our language.
I’ve made new friends! Emil, Niclas and Anders are all Swedish boys and somehow I’ve managed to join their clique. They’re funny and outgoing and interested to get to know me. Erin, my best American girlfriend here, is leaving in January to return to Nebraska. She only signed up for the “one-semester” Swedish program and I am terribly sad to see her go. But all of us hang out together and I’m happy to spend our last remaining days together. Luckily, Emil, Niclas and Anders are all staying in Växjö and it will be THEM saying goodbye to ME in June. Tonight we've planned a Die Hard Marathon. The boys requested American food from Erin and I – so we’re making French Toast (never mind the irony) and bacon. I’m afraid that when we make the dinner, smothering the French toast in powdered sugar and maple syrup it will be hard for them not to crack some jokes about Americans eating cake for breakfast and dinner. When you think about it, French toast really is just like one big slice of cake. Oh well, it’s the American way!
I traveled to Stockholm for the first weekend of Advent. My mother’s host family (from when she came to live in Sweden) is now residing just outside Stockholm so I stayed with them. The mother is Swedish, the father is Spanish and their five-year-old son, Raul, is the definition of adorable. He’s fluent in both Swedish and Spanish, and he’ll begin his English lessons in two years. He’s a lucky child. By age ten, he’ll be trilingual. The first night I was there, he came up to me and asked,
“Ska vi spela ‘memory’?” (Will we play ‘memory’?)
“Ja, det ska vi.” (Yes, we will)
I felt very comfortable talking to Raul in Swedish. We occasionally had a few moments of misunderstandings but it was easy for us to talk to each other. It’s less intimidating to practice my Swedish with a five-year-old than a forty-year-old. Eva and Anita (the two Swedish sisters) took me to Skansen, a wonderful attraction in the heart of Stockholm. It’s a lot like “Williamsburg, VA” where people are dressed in traditional Swedish clothing and doing hard, traditional labor. There was a post office, a shoe maker, a glass blower, a bakery, etc. Skansen was hosting the annual Christmas Market and there were busy Swedes and tourists eating up marsipan, pepparkakor, lussekatter (rolls made of saffron and raisins), kanelbullar, korv (sausage), öst (cheese), mandlar (almonds), soppa (soup), fisk (fish) and glögg. There were lots of Swedish handicrafts—dalahästar (traditional wooden horses), candlesticks, wool mittens and scarves, straw decorations, glass sculptures and clothing. It was quite a sight: a transition back in time and it was the Swedish experience for EVERY tourist. If you come to visit me, I’m taking you to Skansen. Sunday morning, Eva, Raul and I were sure to light the first of four candles of the advent calendar. It’s a Swedish tradition.
I caught a ride home from Stockholm with Emil and his parents (who also happened to be in Stockholm for the weekend) and I spent the five hour ride home talking their ears off. Emil said they liked me a lot, and they invited me to their home in Halmstad (the “California” of Sweden) anytime.
Swedes don’t decorate their houses like Chevy Chase in “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation” and they don’t decorate their houses like the stereotypical American. But something you can find in every Swedish home are lights in every window. Whether it’s one light or five, each window is lit with white light. Even farm houses in the middle of nowhere have their candles, and it’s really beautiful to see.
On my third exam, I EARNED an “A”—the best grade in my class. I have one exam remaining and it just happens to be the hardest (grammar!). Ugh. I don’t want to think about it until tomorrow. I hope you all are listening to plenty of holiday music—whether it be Christmas, Hanukkah or Kwanza. I don’t know if you’ll be hearing from me until after the holidays. It’s possible, but then again, Erik comes home next week. It’s been six weeks since we’ve seen each other and I think we owe it to ourselves to spend some quality rebuilding time. If I don’t talk to you until January, I hope you all have a very, wonderful holiday and Happy New Year! I hope that you are all in good health and spirits. Don’t stress too much about presents, cleaning house or food. Celebrate seeing those people that you don’t usually make time for. Much love to everyone! Kramar (hugs), Jessica

"The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only one page."
~St. Augustine

I NEED ADVICE!!!

Mon, 21 Nov 2005 11:22:01 GMT

Erik's gone. Has been for 4 weeks, will be for 2 more. I wouldn't what you would call the "social butterfly" here in Sweden, one of my best friends is in England for the next 9 days. In the meantime, I've been hanging out with this guy Emil. A lot. He cooked me dinner last night (it was really good) and it was COMPLETELY innocent. BUT we find ourselves talking whenever we're online, texting each other when we're going to bed and making plans for Die Hard Marathons (where, it's my turn to cook the dinner). He's a realy fun guy to hang out with, and I'm attracted to him physically. His personality is not my "type"-- he has WAY too much baggage for me to handle, but we are having fun getting to know each other. Up to this point, there has been NOTHING going on whatsoever...no hugs, no flirting, no nothin'. (And this is good because I'm in a relationship). But I kind of feel like Emil (that's his name) and my relationship is on the turning point of being friends or flirty friends. I'm not going to cheat on Erik, but I desperately want a good friend here...my best friend is going back to Nebraska in January! So I love meeting new people to last me until June. Do flirty friends always end up in bad situations? Is it possible for a male and a female to be friends without occasional flirting (if they're both physically attracted to each other)? Eh, I don't think so. Has anyone ever been in this situation? How did it turn out? Should I tell Erik that I've been hanging out with Emil, or just keep it to myself so he doesn't worry. He has no need to worry. Ugh. Love. Erik needs to get his ass back to me NOW!!!!

Why is it..

Sat, 19 Nov 2005 00:18:26 GMT

Why is it that when someone dies, everyone acts like they were her best friend? I know that if my friend Lauren dies, and I see people at her funeral that treated her like shit I will want to do nothing more than spit in their faces. Why do people think that by going to a funeral, they are automatically sympathy-deserving-good people? Funerals aren't meant for redemption for being shitty to people.

Det snöar! (It's snowing!)

Wed, 16 Nov 2005 08:35:15 GMT

Tjena everyone! How are you? I'm sitting at my computer, looking out the window at the golfball-sized snowflakes falling and sticking to the ground. I haven't seen snow since 2003, so this is very nice. It's beautiful but I'm afraid my walk to class is going to be a cold one.
On my first exam, a written and listening exam, I received 100àOn my second exam, an oral exam, I received “pass with distinction.” I prepared a long conversation about sports only to find out the majority of the exam was based on landscape. I did well despite this. Amazing how a little studying will reward you!
A French boy, two German girls and I rented a car and drove to Lund and Malmö for a day trip this past weekend. It was a wonderful time. We visited the church in Lund (which I had seen before when I visited my Swedish relatives, Gerhard and Inga). The church has a large, beautiful, old clock that not only keeps the time, but the date as well.We made sure we returned to the church at 1 o’clock pm to witness the music and “cuckoo-like” mechanical action it performs twice every day. We returned at 12:45 and a large group quickly gathered around us wanting to bear witness to the display also. We also noticed a small orchestra warming up their instruments for what was to be a small concert. The large group of spectators (ourselves included) sat twenty five minutes waiting for the clock to chime. Finally I overheard a Swede ask a priest if the clock would perform today to which he replied, “Nej.” SO nice of the priests in the church to let the large group know that the clock would be silent that day, due to the concert. I think that the priests were probably so excited to see people inside their church they wanted to keep us there as long as possible, no matter what how. Ha.
Malmö is a big city where the majority of immigrants in Sweden have settled down. There was a lot of nice shopping to do there, but I don’t know if I will be returning any time soon. I prefer the “old-worldliness” of Stockholm and Lund.
The next day we drove the car to a Christmas market in Huseby (a very small town just outside Växjö). It was very nice with lots of candles and decorations. People were giving out free samples of cheeses, ham, lutfisk (pickled herring) and peppermint. We stood by and watched some Swedes making the small bite-size peppermint candy and it was quite the spectacle. One Swede approached me and offered me a sample, which I took and ate. He then proceeded to say something to me in Swedish before I was able to say, “Jag pratar bara en lite svenska.” (I speak only a little Swedish). I assume he was telling me how I could purchase the candy, and luckily he walked away none the wiser of my hidden identity. They all think I’m a Svensk here.
Sweden has a Christmas drink called “glögg.” It’s a mulled wine served warm, closely resembling a sweet, red apple cider. In the drink you drop raisins and almonds. After drinking the warm liquid, you eat the raisins and almonds left over. It is EXTREMELY good—something that I would like to make part of my Christmas tradition. The drink is often eaten with pepparkakor (gingersnap cookies). You can buy both of these items at your local IKEA if you are interested. :-)
Erik’s been really sick with flu-like symptoms. At first we suspected it was a minor cold from the change of climate (Sweden to Norway). Then when the symptoms persisted, there was talk of allergies, especially since he was working around large amounts of fish. We began to believe he would be returning to Sweden sooner than expected. Unfortunately for me he regained his health (darn!) and he'll be staying in Norway for another 3 weeks. It was pretty funny to me when he called one night and said, “Yessie, I met a girl here who has been to DC. She knows a place where we can get a slice of pizza for only $2!” I then proceeded to tell him I knew many places where we could get a cheap slice of pizza (without the twenty minute drive into the downtown metropolitan area) but I assured him I would take him somewhere specific if he so desired.
It’s currently 31 degrees outside. Very, very cold. I need a much warmer winter coat if I’m to return here in January. This is only the beginning. With the falling back of the clocks, the sun now sets at 3:30 pm. By 4 o’clock it’s pitch black outside. There’s not much to do out in the cold darkness, so I think the campus pubs have been seeing a little more business lately.
My mother’s “host sister,” from when my mother studied in Sweden, has invited me to come and spend the first weekend of Advent with them in Stockholm. This is Thanksgiving weekend (for the rest of us) and the beginning of the Swedish Christmas holiday. There’s a huge annual open-air market in the historical district of Stockholm. Many of the old, traditional houses open their doors for Christmas tours. I’m hopeful to get most of my Christmas shopping done here. Despite being so far from home, it’s amazing how many “families” I have here in Sweden. Gerhard and Inga are a blessing to have here and I cannot wait to visit them again in the spring (or until I get an awful case off homesickness). My mother’s host family is wonderful for having Swedish connections in Stockholm; they are wonderful people. And Erik’s parents have invited me back to their home, an invitation which I plan on accepting right before I come home for Christmas.
On Friday we’re having a field trip to a glass factory and an agricultural school. The class will then adjourn to my professor’s home for a lunch prepared by his wife. We’ve all chipped in to buy them a bottle of wine and a bouquet of flowers. It should be a nice time wth good Swedish food.
I watched a delightful Swedish movie that I would recommend to all of you (if you can find it). It is called “As It Is In Heaven” and it was nominated for an Academy Award for best foreign film this year. I guess it didn’t win, but it is phenomenal. At the end, you walk out of the theater feeling so alive. Det är mycket bra. (It is very good)
I hope you are all beginning to get in the "holiday spirit." I know I am! I will be coming home in a month and I couldn't be more excited! My best wishes go to all of you, I hope you are all in good health-- stay bundled in the cold weather! (Except for those of you down in Florida. For you, I'll ship some snow to cool down!) I miss you all terribly, please write! Much love, Jessica

"The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only one page."
~St. Augustine

Oh, you silly Germans...

Sat, 29 Oct 2005 21:35:55 GMT

Two momentous things have recently happened to me in Sweden. The first, I became homesick. I spent the entire day in bed moping and missing my parents, my sister, my friends, my dogs, my car, my country. The nice thing about being homesick though, is it’s a 24 hour bug. The next day I was totally refreshed and happy to be in ‘Sverige’ (Sweden). The second momentous thing that happened was I realized that I am getting old. What caused this recognition? I ordered black coffee and liked it. Only old women drink black coffee (no offense, mom)—and it feels great. It makes me feel so mature and bitter. I love it. Swedish coffee is fantastic—much stronger than Starbuck’s soy, skim, only-three-ice-cubes-thank-you, coffee-whatever. Sometimes the simplest things in life make one happy. And for me right now, it’s black coffee.
Erik came to visit and surprised me with, “Hey Jess, I’m leaving for Norway on Wednesday to work for a month. I can double my wages there and I’d like to have the cash for when I go to America with you. If you don’t want me to go, I won’t.” (Some choice I had…)
“Where will you be in Norway?” I asked.
“Three miles off the coast, on an island.”
“What will you be doing?”
“I don’t know. But my best friend is going with me. I think we’re going to be working with fish.”
“Do you definitely have the job?”
“No, we have an interview on Wednesday there.”
“So you don’t know if you have the job…you’re traveling across two countries just to attend an interview? Do you have a secure place to stay?”
“No. What an adventure!”
“Aren’t you afraid of us growing apart?” (I’m quite the voice of reason.)
“Well I wasn’t until just now!” So Erik is currently in Norway, on an isolated island three miles off the coast, gutting fish for a month. I just pray to God that the stench of fish doesn’t get into his pores. What an escapade for two young, ambitious boys before they return to school in January.
Class is going wonderfully! I feel really optimistic about my language ability. I’m currently reading a small book, “Ormblomman” (Worm Flower). It’s a murder mystery and it’s completely in SWEDISH! I’ve also been writing to Erik, and Gerhard and Inga, via email in Swedish. My first exam is on Wednesday and I believe I’m ready. I’m also almost finished with the second volume of, “The Emigrants” by Moberg. It’s not required reading, but I always have the itch to read. I’m an English major.
Something about Sweden that I love is public restrooms. Why should we Americans use the toilet in a room occupied by 2,3, 4, or more other people?! As if we’re animals…
Swedes have individual restrooms almost everywhere. I think there’s something comforting about being able to relieve yourself without having to hear the relief of other people at the same time. Again…simple pleasures for me.
We had a Halloween party on campus. Halloween in Europe is a little different than it is back home. For one thing, it’s not as big of a tradition—no decorated houses, hay mazes, haunted barns, jack-o-lanterns or celebrations. Another thing is that Halloween in the states is a large excuse for boys (and men) to dress up as the superheroes they strive to be, and for girls (and women) to be the pretty princesses they yearn to be. In Sweden, women want to be just as scary as their male opposites. We’re quite a liberal country over here. :-) So my American friend, Erin, and I were the only non-vampiresses, non-brides of Frankenstein, non-witches. I was the good ol’ German Beer Maid (though the Germans claimed I was dressed as a Hungarian) and Erin was a black cat. We were both totally beautiful and the European women looked on with envious eyes, “Why didn’t we think of that?” A German girl from class stopped me in the pub and replied,
“You know, in the beginning I really didn’t like you. Sometimes when you spoke I thought that you were outrageous. You were so American! But now, something has changed and I really, really like you. So I apologize.” It took me a minute to get over the, “I really didn’t like you…outrageous…American” part but I think she was giving me a compliment. I thanked her and later told Suvi about the incident. Suvi said, “You haven’t changed! She probably just had a preconceived notion about how you would be and it was impossible for you NOT to fit into it! She’s crazy!” Suvi always makes me feel better. I also had a German girl come an inch away from my face, and loudly ask in a whiskey-soaked breath, “Wha…do…yu…tink….ov…American politics?”
PANIC! I calmly said, “I think we’re doing a decent job.”
“Yeah-yeah-yeah…but…who…do…you…vote? Bush or Kerry?”
HELP ME OUT OF THIS SITUATION! There’s no way to win…compromise my beliefs or get bitched at by a German about American politics? So in a very p.c. tone I replied, “I don’t know.” I got up and found sanctuary with my American friends in the other room. There’s some indescribable feeling of being surrounded by people that understand you and you understand. Sometimes all I want to do is talk and joke with another American—without having to find alternative ways to express myself (or find endless synonyms to replace unknown words). I don’t blame the Swedes for wanting to be somewhat kept as a community when they immigrated to America. There’s comfort in recognition.
After being taught a Bavarian dance (by a real Bavarian), I called it a night with many great pictures. They can be found at my website (now updated!): http://community.webshots.com/user/svenskablondie
Swedes drink more milk than any other people I’ve seen. There are three varieties: blue (.5% fat), green (1.5% fat) and red (3% fat). I’ve been told that it’s shameful for a young girl to buy red milk (gasp! RED milk!) due to its high fat content. I’ve been drinking more milk than I have in my whole life. Their milk doesn’t have as many preservatives, it only lasts a couple days so there’s added pressure to drink it all in one sitting. I’ve done it and I’m proud. Milk is good. And if you must know, I drink green.
I made dinner for Erik and Suvi. Apple glazed pork chops, mashed cauliflower, beets and PUMPKIN PIE for dessert. Dinner was a success—they had never eaten apple and pork chops together before. Erik pointed out that “Homer Simpson’s” favorite meal is apparently applesauce and pork chops; he was excited to know what it tasted like. Suvi helped herself to two slices of pumpkin pie. It was a lovely meal. I took another pumpkin pie into class and everyone was so happy to receive the treat. My teacher even asked for the recipe. American food was a big hit. (Naturally…)
Surprisingly I heard Maryland received ten inches of snow. It hasn’t snowed here yet but it’s been dipping to freezing lately, so the snow is on its way. There’s a “Christmas Craft Festival” in a neighboring town. It’s apparently a BIG deal, so I’m going to hop the bus and do some obligatory shopping (I owe it to myself to buy hand-made Swedish goods).
On Monday I’m going to an English class for Swedish speakers. My friend teaches English to 20-60 year old Swedes wishing to improve their English. I figured it’d be fun to be on the other side of the equation…and it will probably help me as well. Ain’t I the overachiever? Ha.
Looking over the whole Erik situation, he couldn’t have left at a better time. November is packed with exams and I need to concentrate on those. There’s some talk of a trip to Oslo at the end of the month and I’d be more than willing to go and see it. I’ve heard Norway is beautiful (and some of my roots trace back to Norway, as well). I heard they have trolls in the trees there, so maybe I’ll bag one of ‘em as a souvenir. Santa Clause is rumored to be living in Lappland, Finland—Suvi’s home. Maybe I’ll convince her to introduce us. That’s about all the excitement here. The Spanish had a tapas party yesterday and I ate to my heart’s content. Miss you all (as usual)—hope this email finds you in good health. DRINK MORE COFFEE!
With Love-- Jess

"The world is a book, and those who do not travel read only one page."
~St. Augustine

Time Gone By

Mon, 17 Oct 2005 18:40:56 GMT

The days are long without, dear
And as I fondle the this and that of a new language
I think of you.
How is it going to be?
When I leave and you stay
Will you come for me?
How distant is distance
--and how long is time
Being beautiful for you is easy
The ebb and flow of words between us
You say everything I want to hear
And then some.
A cottage is waiting in red for us
Strong wooden structure amidst a Nordic blå sky
Tall without shiver in the oh-so-cold months
And inside, we will meet.
There we won’t worry about distance or time
Because we’ll be able to wake up with each other always
Every day that we live.
There we can be, and laugh at the time gone by.
But for now…
The days are long without you, dear.

There are no CATS in America!

Mon, 17 Oct 2005 10:25:56 GMT

Okay, so I'm bringing my Swedish boyfriend to the United States for the first time at Christmas. I have begun to make list of "MUST SEE AMERICAN PLACES/EXPERIENCES." There are only 14 things on it so far, and I need some ideas. What do you people consider to be AMERICAN?! Help me....
1. Go to Capitol's Game
2. Go to NYC -- see a broadway show
3. Eat at Chipotle
4. Go to Baltimore National Aquarium
5. Go to Smithsonian
6. Drink Bubble Tea
7. Drink Starbucks
8. Eat at Outback Steakhouse (only because I worked there)
9. Eat at IHOP
10. Eat fried chicken
11. Go to Montgomery Mall on Dec. 23 and see craploads of people
12. See a movie with stadium seating (ooohh....ahhhhh...)
13. Go to Walmart
14. Meet rednecks at a redneck bar (request of boyfriend)

Any ideas?!?!?! HELP!

I am PROUD to be an American!

Sun, 16 Oct 2005 20:18:07 GMT

Hej everyone! Happy Halloween to all of you! Hope you are doing well, I'm doing wonderfully. I've been having some adventures and doing all kinds of things. Here's the latest:
Suvi and I went out for hot chocolate. We discussed European and American differences. Suvi thinks that most Europeans are a bit snobby when it comes to America. She and I both pondered what Europe would do if all American influence, American culture and American products were taken out of Europe for 24 hours. We both believe that Europe would be in somewhat of a chaotic state. A greater appreciation for America would be found! Maybe one day the greater appreciation will be found.
I became disgusted with my bedroom—the walls are a putrid color yellow and the shelves were so bare. I took the bus into town and bought four bright colored flower posters for my walls, hot pink votive candles for my shelves and four bright potted flowers—they resemble daisies. Yellow, red, orange and pink. My room finally feels like home!
One Friday I got the itch to travel. I knew that if I didn’t leave, I would probably spend the weekend in bed. So I talked to some friends, and we all decided to go to Öland—an island off the coast of Eastern Sweden. Öland was having a harvest festival for the weekend and I thought it would be a wonderful way to see Swedish culture. Early Saturday morning, Suvi, Jorge (from Spain), and I caught the train to Kalmar, a beautiful city on the coast. In Kalmar, we bought bus tickets to Öland.
“Would you like return tickets?” The cashier asked.
“Yes, we need to get back to Växjö tonight. When does the last train leave?”
“Five o’clock. And the bus that you would have to catch for that leaves Öland at one o’clock.”
I glanced at my watch. It was already eleven. That would give us an hour in Öland! Suvi just tugged on my coat, winked and said, “Let’s not think about that until later.”
So we went to Borgholm, the largest city in Öland. The island itself is inhabited by hundreds of windmills and the land was decorated with haystacks and pumpkins for the festival. We stopped and had pizza for lunch. Kebab pizza for me! I’m never able to finish it…
After lunch we walked along the coast and admired the Baltic Sea. We took a bike path which we assumed would take us to the castle ruins we had seen on the bus trip up. We followed the path until we hit a large fence. This was no ordinary fence, it had a camera and extensive locks. Within minutes a man came on a speaker box and asked us what we wanted.
“Where can we buy tickets?” We asked, assuming we were referencing the castle ruins.
“Up the hill.” The voice said through the box.
We backtracked and followed a dirt trail through the woods when we came upon a beautiful little cottage. The cottage was surrounded by picnic table and people were out sitting, drinking coffee and eating cakes, pies and waffles. We were all still too full from the lunch so we sat and rested for a bit. Within seconds, a man with a paper number pinned to his chest sprinted past the little cottage. Behind him, trailing at a rate of fifteen seconds between each, runners came, passing the little cottage. The patrons sitting and enjoying their pastries stopped and clapped for each runner as he went by. It was fun to watch all the different running styles. There were ten year olds and sixty year olds participating. By the time we figured the last runner had gone by, we stood up and continued on our way. We finally found the entrance to the gate where we paid a ticket for 50 krona. At this point, I still thought we were going to see the castle ruins. Instead, Suvi explained that we were about to see the Royal Family’s summer home. We approached a house surrounded by an exhaustive garden. The house was fairly small (for what I would expect a Royal Family villa to look like) and I replied, “This must be the guest house!”
Ends up, the “guest house” was actually it. And at the end of the tour, I felt cheated of 50 krona. Around June and July (when everything is in bloom) I can imagine it’s a beautiful residence. I still wanted to know…where’s the damned castle ruins?!
So we asked a guard (probably the most dull occupation in Sweden) where we could find the ruins and he generously pointed the direction.
We walked and walked and walked and finally saw them! We walked the perimeter and realized we could get inside for 50 krona! Inside the ruins there was a large grassy square where people had set up tents and were selling their crafts. Most of the products were wool products, and there was a herd of sheep being led by a sheep dog! That dog was the most well-trained I had ever seen! Just like in “Babe”!
People were selling homemade sheep-skin rugs, coats, hats, scarves, jewelry, mittens and gnome figures. I regret not buying anything, but I figure I have plenty of time to do Christmas shopping later! The castle ruins were very impressive. Nothing like what I have seen before in the States.
We walked back to town and went into all the shops. In the center of town there was a ten foot squash display. There was also live music, people grilling food and drinking beer. There was a specific dish that many Swedes were eating. It was pork smothered with lingonberry preserves and rolled into potato balls—called “kroppkakor.” I didn’t try it (I was still full from the pizza), but I wish I had.
We caught the bus back to Kalmar and arrived at 10:15 p.m. On the bus ride home there were young kids (seventeen, eighteen and nineteen) all blatantly drunk and making quite a racket in the back. It was certainly not something I was used to.
Anyway, we arrived in Kalmar and started to ask people where we could find a youth hostel. Apparently, there aren’t any youth hostels in Kalmar. So we walked from hotel to hotel looking for the best price, looking for people to cut us a break. By this time, my feet had blisters on them and I was exhausted. I just wanted a warm place to sleep—it was quite a cold night.
We eventually found a nice hotel for 250 krona per person. We paid it, took showers (put on the same dirty clothes, ew!) and fell directly asleep. In the morning, we had the hotel breakfast (included in the price). It was quite a smårgasbord! Deli meats of all kinds, many varieties of sliced cheese, hard boiled eggs, bulle, coffee, tea, cereal, yogurt, Swedish pancakes, and five selections of bread were offered to us. I was in heaven. It was the perfect end to a wonderful trip with great friends.
I went to Erik’s parents’ house for dinner last weekend. Prior to dinner we sat outside. It was a wonderful Brittsommar (Indian Summer) night, the sun was setting, and we had ficka. Amidst strong coffee and sweet coffee bread, we played a back-and-forth game of charades trying to manage a flowing conversation. The operation was a success. His mother seemed much more interested in me than the first time we met (when she sat in silent shock that her son was dating an American). For dinner, I was hoping for some good Swedish food, but his dad made Asian stir-fry (and it was just as good). It was a wonderful night. And I promised Mrs. Rörström that I would practice my Swedish before the next time we met.
After dinner, Erik’s mother hugged me and said that I was, “very welcome” anytime I wanted to return. Later, Erik told me that his mother had never before hugged his girlfriends. It must have been the flowers I brought her. Yay for me!
Erik and I ventured to his best girlfriend’s house for a “preparty” before we would all go to the pub together. Still somewhat disheartened from his other friends that I had met, I was a little weary to meet someone else. But it was absolutely lovely. She was a nice, smart and funny girl who dared to speak English with me and include me in all conversation. She is exactly what I had pictured (and hoped for) Swedes to be like! The party was a success as many of the guests were interested in ME and AMERICAN CULTURE. By the end of the night, I had them all convinced that they would soon be booking flights across the Atlantic for vacation. All in all it was an amazing night.
On Friday I ventured to Lund and Landskrona with my American friend, Erin, from Nebraska. In Lund I met my grandmother’s second cousin, Gerhard, and his wife, Inga, Nilsson. A little nervous at first, I finally realized that these people were family and that I had nothing to worry about. I bought them some Växjö chocolates and greeted them on the train platform in Lund. They were kind and short Swedes who seemed taken aback when I excitedly met them with a big ol’ American hug.
We all walked around Lund for a little bit and marveled at the university in town (which both my great-great grandmother attended, as well as Gerhard, himself). We saw the main building with its breathtaking entrance hall, the library with its two-hundred-year-old wooden, spiral staircase, and the church in the main square. The church was absolutely beautiful and was consecrated in 1145. The outside of the church was extremely impressive but only shadowed by the beautiful inside. Inside the church was a huge (25 foot) wooden calendar which kept both time and date. The structure resembled a large cuckoo-cuckoo clock, and everyday at noon and three, three wooden wise men would retreat their clock-home and move to the sound of a chimed song before returning to their wooden nest. Many of my Swedish relatives have attended that church and it was exciting to walk the same aisles as my ancestors. In the basement of the church were many tombs and a marble figure of a little-giant holding strongly onto one of the pillars. (There’s folklore behind it…but this email is too long as is.)
After walking around Lund, we drove half an hour to Landskrona. In the car, Gerhard relayed stories of the WWII British bombings to the city and his studies at Lund. We arrived to their quaint, beautiful, navy blue-painted house and as Erin helped Inga with dinner, Gerhard presented me with a family tree. With great interest, we looked it over and Gerhard showed me where I came from, where relatives lived, where they immigrated to and who I was related to. He was able to trace our roots back to the late 1600s from old church records and I was not only surprised, but touched, to have received such a personal and priceless gift. He promised me that when I returned in the spring, he would take me to my great-great-great-grandfather’s grave.
We all shared wine, boiled potatoes, roasted chicken breast, tomato salad and mushroom sauce for middag (dinner). It was so delicious and Erin and I both helped ourselves to two servings. We also had dessert of sliced baked apples, sprinkled with almond-like nuts, cinnamon and sugar, topped with homemade whipped cream. Erin and I were in heaven. I finally got the Swedish meal I had so eagerly awaited.
It just so happened that the night Erin and I were in Landskrona it was also culture night. The four of us took the bus into town and watched a fashion show on the street of the latest Swedish fashion, we went to a Bertil Vallien art gallery. He is an internationally famous glassworks artist based in Småland (and Växjö!) and you can find his art all over southern Sweden. He is the same artist that constructed the altar in the Växjö cathedral. It is very impressive work. You can view it here: http://www.bertilvallien.nu/gallery/index.html. We then ventured to a small little cottage that had handcrafts from Skåne (the southern region of Sweden). The needlework in the cottage was absolutely beautiful but “kostade mycket pengar” (as we like to say in Sweden). It cost a lot of money. Inga, herself, is a very talented painter and she had a painting on exhibit at a gallery downtown. We saw her colorful painting and were, at that point, exhausted. We traveled back home and had hot tea and (gasp!) kannelbullar. Kannelbullar are sweet, cinnamon rolls. The Nilssons were keeping Erin and I well-fed. It was more than easy to fall asleep that night.
In the morning Erin and I woke up and both said, “How can we be hungry?!” But we were, and we had strong, Swedish coffee, yogurt with banana and granola, cheese and bread with yellow pepper. A lovely, typical Swedish breakfast. We then took a ten minute drive to the coast and took an hour hike along the water of the Baltic Sea. Across the waterway we could clearly see Copenhagen and Denmark. The weather was crisp. Not only are flowers still in bloom but the leaves are brilliant colors of red, yellow and orange. I breathed in the cold air, watched as the bright blue waves crashed on the rocky Swedish coast and exclaimed to Erin, “Life will never again be this good.” Both Erin and I were on such a high from our luck in having such an opportunity to be here with such wonderful people in a beautiful country on a gorgeous October morning. Cows were grazing in a pasture behind us and I knew that I could be happy there forever (only, of course, if my family came and lived with me).
We went back and (surprise!) ate again. We had roast beef stew with carrots, boiled potatoes, and lingonberries. For dessert we had chilled raspberries sprinkled with sugar and a scoop of creamy vanilla ice cream. It was a good thing we had taken that hike earlier.
As Erin and I finished our raspberries, Inga surprised both Erin and I by presenting us with her own paintings--matted and framed watercolors. She let us each pick one from a choice of four. I chose a gorgeous landscape of Skåne, with an abundantly blue-cloud sky and yellow field. I wanted to cry from their extreme generosity. They treated us as queens (and fed us like royalty, too!). It could possibly be the happiest two days of my entire time in Sweden. Erin was the perfect companion and I was more than happy to have brought her along. She appreciated my relatives’ kindness and was as polite as polite could be. Sadly, Erin and I had another engagement that night in Växjö, so Gerhard and Inga took us back to Lund where we caught the train back to Växjö. The farewell was sad, but I knew that I would be visiting again in the spring (next time, with Erik).
Saturday night Erin and I were to attend a ball in the castle on campus. We dressed up in our fanciest and took the cross-campus walk to the candlelit Teleborg Castle. Thinking it would be a somewhat-international affair (there were posters for it all over campus!), Erin and I were the only non-Swedish people attending. We took professional pictures, were greeted with glasses of champagne for the reception and sat and had a wonderful meal. Our hosts gave a welcome speech (in Swedish) and every six minutes we sang a different drinking song (we had booklets on the table including the lyrics) but Erin and I felt somewhat out of place. What did we do to cure our anxiety? We lifted our wine glasses and toasted each other. The couple across the table from us spoke English with us all night (which we were thankful for). At the end of the meal, we were called in groups into a small library with a stuffed reindeer inside. There, we swore our loyalty to the reindeer (I wasn’t really sure what I was doing, and I’m still not sure why I swore myself to a stuffed reindeer) but all I know is that after holding my hand on my heart, bowing my head and reciting some words about loyalty I received a medal resembling Christopher Plummer’s in the ballroom scene of, “The Sound of Music.” Apparently everyone always gets medals when they attend a ball and are then supposed to wear them to all the balls they attend thereafter.
We didn’t stay for the couple waltzing, we left and changed and went to a pub on campus. Standing in line to get into the pub, we were being loud and funny and laughing—surrounded by Swedes. There was light music on in the background and all of a sudden, a group of Swedish girls behind us sang really loudly, “We’re not living in America, and we’re not sorry!” It’s the chorus of a popular song here and I was really offended. So of course, I turned around to see who it was that was trying to make a point to Erin and I. As soon as I looked, all of the little Swedish girls turned around really quickly—too shy to look me in the face after insulting me. I shrugged it off and forgot about it until we got into the pub and the DJ was playing the song again. I told Erin that we needed to boycott the song, so at the top of our lungs we danced and screamed, “We ARE from America, and we’re not sorry!” It was bittersweet justification. I was pleased. It just seems hypocritical to me that these people deny their fondness of America and stick their noses up at us, but wear, “American Polo” clothes and gaily sing Bruce Springsteen’s “Born in the USA” when it comes on in the pub. We met an American named Nathan, from Arizona. He’s been in Växjö for two and a half years and does not have any plans to go back to the States. He knows Swedish fluently and even teaches a Swedish Language class at a local school. Resembling a young Robin Williams, he was funny and it was easy to relate to him. We exchanged email addresses and we live in neighboring residence halls. New friends are always nice to come by. The night was great and made me all the more proud to call myself an American.
Friday night is karaoke night at one of the pub’s on campus. Erik’s coming to spend the weekend and it should be great. Let’s hope the weather stays this nice. However, the Swedes have a good saying,
“Det finns inget dåligt väder, bara dåliga kläder” – “There’s no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothes”.
That's about it for now. As always, I hope everyone is doing well. I'm trying to take note of all the food I'm eating so I can come back and host a "Swedish dinner party"! (Both in St. Augustine and in Maryland). I'm learning how to be quite the hostess after being treated so well all over. I hope you all have a good Halloween (I'm dressing up as a German girl...hopefully without offending anyone). Write me back and let me know how things are across the pond. I send my love to all of you!

My Rant for the Day...

Wed, 12 Oct 2005 15:16:24 GMT

I hate how writers include musical references in their work—as if the reader should automatically understand the mood from the mention. If I were to say, “His hair appeared to have a three-day-dirt build up, the overgrown whiskers on his chin told me he didn’t care. He was the type that listened to the Allman Brothers and understood the ways of the world—and he was magnificent.” Should the Allman Brothers have to fill in for my lacking ability to transcribe mood to paper? I don’t think it’s fair to give such a responsibility to the guys. What if the readers hate the Allman Brothers? Will they discard my book into a trash bin smelling of rotten cheese and banana peel? All because of one reference…
When I was a novice writer, I thought, “Oh, it’d be so impacting if I mention Lennon, Morrison, or whatever-legendary-musician-I-like-at-the-moment. I’ll sound so chic; people will respect my musical taste. They’ll feel the feel.” But I was wrong. And now I know...I have play with words. Give ‘em a good rinse cycle, hang ‘em up to dry and rearrange them over and over again until I attain mood. An author’s job is to make a reader respond in an expected way. Obviously, you want the reader to feel—but you should want to be the one driving the reader. And just throwing in a musical reference lets the reader drive. Who the hell even knows if he can steer? Your reader could completely run you off the road and then who knows where you’ll end up? In a putrid, green-chipped-paint, 1984-rat infested dumpster. Oh, and I hate how writers include literary references as if they expect the reader to have read the material. Either, the author is trying to boost his own ego, like “look what I’ve read,” or he’s not enough of an artist to come up with his own material.
Am I wrong?