Peni$ on the dancefloor, so you better not kill the groove

This past friday was an amazingly fun night. It had the perfect combination of alcohol and absolutely no plan, with the promise of delicious brunch in the morning. It is on those rare nights where the world is at your fingertips and the possibilities of your life seem limitless that the most legendary of all tales are born. This night was no exception, and this tale involves the most legendary of all male appendages (or so the masculine gender would wish us to believe), yes that's right, this tale involves a Peni$. Ahh yes I have just uttered the one word in the english language that simultaneously captures the attention of both sexes. Now that I have you all in rapture, let's knock out some of the necessary details before we get to the climax (get it?) of this tale.

Friday night began at Svea, where a gaggle of us gathered for After Work. After Work for those of you not in the know, is essentially happy hour with free food. This particular place makes me happy for several reasons, but mostly because the food of offer is a smattering of variations of meat and potatoes (big meat thing with lingon berries, chopped up meat and potato hash, bacon, boiled potatoes, potatoes with carrots, potato soup, salad - who needs it, knackebrod with butter). After imbibing several libations, Jenny demanded we all head out into the night in search of dessert. As Jenny is a quite forbearing creature, and we were all too frightened to face her wrath, away we did go. And nirvana did we find (cake and cider/beer/ or wine for 55 kronor... a better deal has never been seen in this land!!).

Following our dessert detour, the party had dwindled to three, but what we lacked in numbers we made up for in spirit, and the desire to DANCE DAMNIT! After a little nifty texting, we secured free entry for all, and the mix of sugar high and devil's poison had made my already buoyant spirits soar. Within five minutes of entering the club, we purchased delicious cocktails, found a place to sit, had a boy ask us to watch his drinks but "please add some cosy drugs," and see his penis. (He was a STUD)

Told in that manner, this tale is no fun at all. What was fun however, was watching said boy unzip his pants, try to figure out what he was doing, see something coming out his pants, mistaking this something for a finger, then realizing it was actually his male genitalia, then shaking my head in sadness, looking at my friends, laughing in confusion, and then proceeding to continue drinking delicious cocktail.

But you see children there is a moral to this story, and it is simple. Unless you have a penis of legendary proportions keep it off the dance floor and keep it in your pants!!!!! Or if you are brett favre, keep it out of your sexts, and take off those heinous crocs! You see, this could have been the most amazing tale (you know the ones you will tell your grandchildren one day, but not your children, because you don't want your children to think you ever did anything besides study and work hard, and you just want your grandkids to think you are cool) of the night we saw an "one-eyed snake" that actually rivaled a life size anaconda. Or mistook his "length" -- learned this phraseology in cosmo this week... loving it! -- for a baby's fist. Nope we mistook his length, or lack there of, for a prinskorv (lil smokie for my americano's) and not in a good way.

Now for those, who for some compelling reason I cannot understand, wish to rock out with their cock out, be my guest under one condition. If you are going to partake in horribly inappropriate acts of public nudity, make sure you are at least going to impress the general public. If whatever body part you are exposing (this goes for men and women) is not going to be awe inspiring and cue a choir of angels, please just don't show it in public. There is a time and place for that, and that place is called at home, behind closed doors, and that time is called anytime I am not there. Bodies are unique and beautiful blah blah blah, I don't care, I don't feel the need to share, so keep it to yourself thanks.

As you can see, this is a topic I feel quite passionately about. Funny the things that strike a chord. If this post can persuade just one person to keep their clothes on in public, then I will consider it a success. In this overexposed world we live in today, there is something so beautiful about still having something private to share with that special someone you love. So let's all try just a little harder to protect our special spark... and this is the point I zoned out in health class... but I'm sure the end of that message was really powerful.... Why did we take health class in the summer? Followed by drivers ed in the afternoon, anyone remember how the creepy teacher used to make me sit up at the front of the class with him? Wow did I hate driver's ed...

Tangent aside, I leave with these parting words of wisdom: "It's better to leave some things to the imagination." Thank you for that one mom, I'm sure you applied that rule to your studying! I will pass it on to my children, right after I tell them how I had to walk uphill both ways to school!

Pay Day Hey Day!

This picture has absolutely nothing to do with anything I am about to talk about. It was taken during a sailing trip I did not attend.

This past Saturday I woke up to the most unusual weather... a clear sunny day. Excited about the prospect of actually getting some Vitamin D from nature, I eagerly threw on clothes, scarffed down breakfast (it was noon) and headed out the door. But alas in the 15 minutes it took me to prepare myself, the sun had been obstructed by the usual giant grey cloud that perennially covers Gothenburg (insert sad face emoticon). Since I was already out the door, it seemed a shame to turn around and go back to bed (an option I too frequently choose). So like my viking forefathers before me, I headed into the brisk with a burning desire to conquer.

Yes that's right, I headed to the shopping section of town. Look at my purchasing power parity now! As it was a Saturday, I wasn't immediately struck by the vast amount of people swarming about. And as I was in a good mood, I thought nothing of the awesome jams that were being blasted through loud speakers from many of the shops. It wasn't until I spotted the 300 pound blond mammoth of a male holding a small bright red cross body bag, that I realized something was amiss. You see it was at that very moment when it struck me, "OMG I am out shopping on payday Saturday!!"

You see one of the most fascinating aspects of Sweden is the spending habits of its beautiful well coiffed and clothed population. You see unlike in many parts of the world, Swedes are only paid once a month, and oh once they have been paid the party that unfurls! Unlike us Americans who put away money every month to eventually pay for our Liposuction or Kobe Beef addictions (depending which way you swing), Swedes don't have to save money for many of life's most vital necessities (as mentioned above) and instead choose to spend approx 75% of their paycheck within 48 hours of funding reaching their Swedbank/SEB/Nordea/Handelsbanken accounts. Of this pay check, approximately 48% goes to clothing/personal grooming, 50% to Alcohol, and the additional 2% to food and shelter (Disclaimer** all facts stated above have been created by the author).

The spending habits of Swedes was first brought to my attention during my Uppsala days. The week before payday you could get into any club of your choosing at any time of night and only other exchange students would be inside. The weekend of Payday... just stay home, or expect a lovely Lars to buy you multiple rounds of gin & tonics before booting on your vagabond boots (ok that story was false as well). Which can only happen if you get to the club by 3 pm to beat the long queue and ensure entry before 1 am.

I like when people have money. It makes me happy. It also makes me feel less guilty for using 100$ bills as toilet paper. I don't like when too many people have money at the same time. It makes lines for dressing rooms too long. That being said, I always like it when I have money. The End.

Dear Grad School You are Killing me

Its 9:07 am on a Wednesday morning, and I have been sitting in this fine lecture hall for over an hour. The seats are arranged in theatre style and made from fine scandinavian wooden craftsmanship. The seats are comfortable enough for hour one, but without doubt my broken tailbone will be pulsating with pain by hour three of this unending nightmare. It is the final presentations of the year so I should be filled with joy... but instead dread haunts my spirit. You see, my group and I have not yet been given the opportunity to perform -- yes perform if you have ever seen me speak publicly you know my hand gestures rival that of a sign language translator. Yet I know the minute we get up in front of the class, with our best effort try to relay the information we have learned, I know we are going to be ripped to shreds. This criticism has nothing to do with our abilities, simply a different teaching style than I am used to, and will never quite adapt to properly. While some may enjoy being lambasted and see it as an opportunity for improvement, I am filled with uncontrollable rage and want to kick the nearest puppy. Presentations cause undue stress, and since I am on a chocolate diet for the next three weeks (something about gaining 20 million pounds in france this weekend) there really is no cure in sight! Alas back to my online shopping so I can pretend that I am actually in a happy world of extreme commercialism surrounded by pretty packaging and delightfully indulgent goods... instead of this lecture hall of terrors!

An Ode to My new Best Friend

Dear Hemköp at Stigberstorget I love you!!!

Now some of you may think that after living in the same apartment for the past 9 months I should have a general idea of most things within... hmm I don't know atleast one block radius of my apartment. Which is why it was such a shock when a little over two weeks ago I discovered the most magical gem of all... a truly wonderful grocery store with in walking distance. Now in defense of my ignorance, said grocery store exists just west of my apartment, a direction I have never ventured on foot. You see a week before I moved into my apartment some one was shot (it wasn't fatal) in a dispute in an apartment somewhere to the west of my apartment.... several kilometers away and perchance not even in the city limits... but from that day forward I vowed to never go into the "scary" part of town aka anywhere west of the entrance to my door. However on April 28th... a very special day, one of my packages was sent to Hemköp instead of my normal post office. Oh yea side note... packages often get delivered to grocery stores here... weird... I know... explainable... not really. Well anywho upon retrieving my package I discovered a magical gem of a place. On the outside it slightly resembles what I imagine a crack den would look like, however on the inside the place opens up into a beautiful almost up to an American supersized is standard grocery store... cue the choir of angels. This place is beautiful, and when I say beautiful, when you walk in you are immediately greeted by a taxidermic Elk guarding bread (Just when you try and forget you are in Sweden they pull a stunt like that). You then are immediately greeted by the obligatory pre-made salads which consist of 90% pasta (the whole a salad is made of lettuce concept is a completely foreign to this land). Followed by the mediocre piles of mealy bruised "produce".... except at this store you get a wide wide wide variety of semi rotting vegetables to choose from (seee improvement!!!). Its the dairy section that really sets this store above and beyond... the cheese and yogurt (two staples in my diet) selection is out of this world. I didn't even know there were so many flavors or varieties of yogurt here (this is genuine enthusiasm)!!

I'm in love, I'm in love and I don't care who knows it lalalalalalalalalalalala!!

Did I mention it's open until 11.... OMG!!!

Christian's Post!

So here I am sitting in class next to my good friend Christian... and have decided to write a post in his honor. I would like for you to take the time out of your day and really pay tribute to this remarkable man(boy). I'm not sure how to begin paying compliments to this wonderful creature... but find in times of struggle... lists always work just fine.

So here's to you Christian, a list of your greatest character traits and accomplishments:

1) Your arms are almost as big as Sebastian's

2) Your intelligence is almost as great as Jenny's

3) Your style is almost good enough to be in a magazine

4) The bowl of cereal you made me one time was almost good enough to eat

5) You are almost worthy of your sambo Josefin

6) You are almost as funny as Johanna

7) You almost always pronounce China correctly

8) You almost eat as much a baby hippo

9) You almost always win at beer pong (but only when we are partners)!

10) You almost always choose movies that are better than "A Serious Man"

But in all seriousness, Christian I pay this tribute to you, because of all the people I could have been stuck (or had the pleasure) sitting next to during this 5 hour snooze fest of presentations, I would want it to be you!!

Now let's invite George Constanza, the guy that got hit by the ugly stick, and the really not cool girl to lunch at Vanilji and call it a day!!!!

Videos from Valborg... to help you visualize

Found this on youtube it's a nice aerial view of the eko park (where students drink and there is live music all day). I'm in that crowd somewhere!!!!!

And here is a video of a champagne fight... just to give you an idea

Valborg i Uppsala!

Everyone has a happiest place and time in his/her life. The place you think of when life really has you down (like maybe you are taking a course called IBEA), and you just want to think of those good ol' days. For me that place is Uppsala, Sweden. Granted I may not have been sober for the majority of my stay (6 months)... but I look back to those bleary-eyed nights in the land of the midnight sun with the highest level of fondness! Understanding that my liver and waistline were suffering the consequences of my party hardy lifestyle, I realized that while Uppsala had been a beautiful dream, it needed to remain just that and I had to part ways with the city that I love. When my final decisions for grad-school came down to choosing between Gothenburg and Uppsala, I knew the choice I had to make. Now don't get me wrong, I have loved my time in Gothenburg, but a part of my heart never really left Uppsala.

This past weekend I had the opportunity to return to my personal utopia. The celebration was for Valborg, the biggest Swedish drinking holiday for students, and Uppsala is the ONLY place to partake in the festivities. My trip got off to an interesting start when I was approached by a Jehovah's witness in the train station... and heard an interesting story about plants and weeds. In the middle of looking at an icredibly interesting picture book of bible figures, my friend Anna (my go to party/fun time girl!) approached, and while we managed to wait until the old woman who was trying to save me (I'm too far gone...) walked away before dying of laughter. The tone had been set for a hilarious weekend!

The first afternoon Anna and I drank terrible champagne mixed with sprite sitting on a hill by the pink castle. We both drank a bottle of champagne each and were worried about sobering up... honestly I don't know what we were thinking. We then headed to one of the student nations where I was soooooo excited to see cheap beer.... only four dollars a bottle!!! We shortly ran into an aussie, and started inventing a beautiful story (lying)to him about being Swedish, having made up the most beautiful back story about our country homes in Varberg... we were more than shocked when Aussie's friend shows up and it is our good friend Ben! Needless to say we were completely caught in our lie, but thankfully the guys laughed it off. At midnight it was time to head home... we were supposed to start drinking again at 8 am... this didn't quite happen *Sidenote* Anna has a video of me leading a rousing rendition of Shania Twain's hit "you're still the one" with a group of Swedish girls in the bathroom, taken some point this evening... it was a good night! And not surprisingly this is probably the 10th video of me taken in that very bathroom leading Swedish girls in song... some things never change!

The next morning Anna and I were horribly hungover, but we managed to trek in to town to get ourselves bacon burgars, fries and coke for breakfast (breakfast of champions my friends!). We then took some weird british pain medicine... and we were good to go. We headed to the huge park by the school building where I used to "study" and we proceeded to drink another two bottles of champagne a piece. At about 2 pm it was time to head to the champagne fight... champagne fights are so unbelievably fun!!!! There was a live band playing, and also a dj. They played the best music and since I was drunk I didn't care that I was covered in head to toe sticky champagne. Anna and I made many many friends, including a boy wearing blue pants that in mid conversation had a complete spaz attack and broke into dance that can only be described as epileptic. After accruing far more best friends then I could ever possibly handle, it was time to rest up for round three. Anna and I got showered, then headed out for dinner (arrival of hangover #2). During our quest to find dinner we got kidnapped by three different groups of guys, managed to lose all of them until we met this group of guys with an Irish leader. He was unbelievably funny and and could charm the loin cloth off of tarzan. The other guys in the crew were shape shifters, and every time I turned around there were either more, or less, or just different boys, then had previously been following us. Thirty minutes later we had walked all the way across town to where I used to live. YAY FLOGSTA!!!! We then had to turn around and walk back to town because we were meeting our german friend to go out. Another amazingly fun night was had at the student nations. We danced with some of the craziest people ever, keep in mind everyone had been drinking for over 12 hours at this point. At around 3:15 it was time to call it a night. Another *sidenote* We also pretended to be from Zamibia the whole night... a girl even tried speaking africaner or whatever it's called to us... luckily anna knew that in Zamibia they speak German... almost caught in another lie haha.

Uppsala once again did not disappoint and if anything my image of the town has just become rosier! My liver still hates me four days later... but the memories from one of the most fun weekends ever, greatly outweighs the pain I will inevitably face when at age 30 I have to get my first liver transplant...