Gauchos

Sunday:

Gauchos met the Anteaters (UC Irvine) in a friendly soccer game. We went to the game to support our team, "Go gauchos!". US soccer is not the same as anywhere else (ask a Brazilian), they count down (2 x 45 min) and have time outs (what?). The players are, however, just as civil as their foreign peers, calling names and kicking each others' balls. The audience was fun though, when the gauchos scored (once) they threw tortillas on the field and every time the clock counted down to four twenty they chanted :"9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3 ,2, 1, 4.20!" (this is after all California).

After the game we went to Al's and Eddie made Italian lasanga. We have our own international cooking club, making sushi, burritos and pasta!

Monday:
I like my classes and my schedule. It's tough: I start 9 every morning and as late as 1.45. With a 2-hour break between classes. There's a lot of reading and homework assignments on the other hand.

All new students have to do an online alcohol course. Today I finally did the course. Answering questions like:

"What is NOT a sign of problem drinking?
1. Having headache and shaking hands.
2. Falling behind on school work and assignments.
3. Having a drink with dinner every day.
..."
-I think the answer was having a drink with dinner every day, which at least I would classify as more of a drinking problem than falling behind on school work...

F*** the Ying Yang Twins

Good morning, America! When I wake up I clean. I do the dishes, sweep the floor, maybe vacuum clean too. And carry the bottles to recycling.

By now, I have gotten to know the Expressos quite well. The Expressos is my gang: Turtle, Youtube, Pokerface, Eddie, Al and me. We're a cultural mix, which makes some discussion very interesting. For example, Youtube told us how a Brazilian picks up a girl: if you're at a party the guy has to make an excuse (usually very transparent) to get a private moment with the girl, e g saying that he needs bandages from his car to get her there to make out. It's a social code, just like inviting someone up for coffee or tea...

Hence we weren't surprised when Pokerface left us with a Brazilian excuse to help a girl grab something in her dorm (who do you think was grabbing what? :-P)

The uni organized a concert with the Ying Yang Twins. The group is apparently famous here with songs like "The girl is a hoe" and "Smoke break". Most of their songs involved crashing sounds and the words "nigga", "bitch" and "fuck". Still we stood in a crowd of drunken teenagers listening to the...music. Turtle was harassed by a 18-year old girl, who pressed herself against him while he tried to avoid touching her, poor Turtle. A weird looking guy with gloving gloves wanted to sell us E, but he too without success.

Thanks for letting me steal your photo, Youtube

After the concert we went to a birthday party, which was fun until the police shut it down 1.30.

EDIT: After debating the subject our group got the name Expressos instead of Nespressos.

The Cliffs of Insanity

This is one of the most surrealistic days of my life, like a Dalí painting.

I woke up feeling awful after four hours of sleep. The first thing I did was crashing a class. When crashing a class you go there without being registered and hope to get in. It was a math class and well, we had to write a proof of some statement. It was supposed to be done by induction, but I wrote one line stating that since the multiple of two positive integers is larger than zero, the statement was obvious. Somehow I felt that this didn't suit the instructor at all.

After buying books on Amazon.com for $220 I went to the a welcome reception for international students. Youtube had promised to make sushi and at the welcome reception we invited people over to Al's for the evening. It was really fun. Youtube cooked rice and rolled sushi for hours while we watched, talked and enjoyed ourselves.

Later, when I got home I entered a world of insanity. There where people at our place, but I could find any of my room mates. My neighbor was there and told that his room mate had fallen off the cliffs by the sea and was in the hospital. He was worried and upset. Last year one of Sho's friends died falling off the cliffs, so she had an emotional meltdown when she heard about it. Zac and his room mates went to the hospital, but we still haven't heard from them how bad it is. My roomies wanted to go after in the car, but I stopped them, saying they were incapable of driving and that we didn't want to end up in the hospital, although that was precisely the purpose.

There's still people on our balcony, smoking, while my roomies have gone to bed, taking care of Sho, trying to cheer her up. She is really sad and upset because of all the bad memories that have been triggered.

oh, it's knocking on the door, it's Zac's signal. He tells that everything is all right with his roomie, he's gonna be fine and is coming home with his brother soon. Everything's gonna be all right.

Walk In, Walk Out

Today was the first day instruction. But many teachers were on strike. Due to the economic crisis there has been budget cuts and since University of California is a public school the cuts are deep. The staff members get lower salaries and the tuition fees increase. In protest many staff members walked out on the first day. Just when the new students arrive!

My instructors were there, however. I ran hurriedly between classes, clutching a map. First I had a small Indian professor in a programming course and I immediately fell in love with the subject. Next instructor was from China, he too had a funny accent and talked one hour about the economic situation and the cut backs. The last course, a mathematics course, was awful, I have taken it already (like the first year at university) and will drop it as soon as it can be replaced.

I went to the gym and afterward to the grocery store. When I got home I didn't know what to do, so I went to Pokerface for a coffee. It was a desperate move since I don't drink coffee and had a hard time emptying the tiny espresso cup, but I liked the company. But as you know, one thing led to another and somehow we ended up having a party at our place, Youtube making caiperoskas and shots flying in the air...

Now it's time to introduce my room mates properly. They are all back now and we're having so much fun together. And tonight, I found out that they read my blog, so I have their watching eyes on me... We've already med T, she picked me up from the airport remember? We share room. She's really neat and study econ. Then we have Sho, one of the first thing she said was that she loved shoes, so that stuck (plus it sounds Asian). Sho is so funny, tonight she run around taking pictures documenting our shame for future generations, or at least, future facebook tags. The last one I met was Accio [acki-o], she is stunningly beautiful and cool, with a piercing in her lip. She's the one I called when I lost my key, an awkward first conversation on the phone (her nickname is Latin for call, summon...)

And finally, I have to thank Al for the help with my computer, he fixed it and now it works perfectly...until it crashes the next time that is.

Recreation Day

It was a challenge to get up to the Convocation ceremony at three o'clock. The new students were welcomed by the dean, professors in Whatever and presidents of associations of Something. The ceremony was outdoors and it was a hot day, we sat there perspiring while the speakers repeated the same mantra about cut backs, hard studies and pride.

Afterwards, Turtle, Youtube and I hit the recreation center. Wow! Wowwowwowwow! Tennis courts, squash, soccer, an indoors skating rink, two gyms, a pool, climbing walls, you name it! We tried climbing, which was difficult. Then running: it took a while to get used to the machine and I had to type in weight and speed in pounds and mph. After that we went to the pool and dived and finally we found a hot tub...La vita è bella.

We spent 3-4 hours in the reccen and walked home on weak legs. The best thing is that it's payed for by the tuition fees, with other words: FREE! I usually hate gyms, but this, this...I lack words. I might even return on a regular basis, so great is it!

After days of raving I finally had a sober evening and had time to chat with Angel. He is in the same time zone, unlike my friends back home. Since he studies on the west coast too, the stories were similar. His room mate sells weed, at this very moment McConaughey's room mate was there to buy some (McConaughey is one of the other Swedes in Canada). Angel could at least answer the question why he doesn't try drugs with "My father puts druggies in jail for a living".

The semester starts Thursday. My room mates will be back soon :-D

Mad World

The last days of summer the students party as if there's no tomorrow. So did I with my new made friends from the introduction.

Saturday evening started off with a dinner, Turtle and I cooked chicken-curry and invited Chatty and Smiley over. In the middle of dinner Al and Pokerface walked in. They had called, but I answer my new American phone as often as I did my Swedish one (very seldom that is). Al needed somewhere to crash. He was homeless (but will hopefully get a place tomorrow) and I had an empty apartment, so I had given him access to our futon. The first thing Pokerface asked when he entered the room was: "Do you have weed?" The deal is, that Chatty knew where to find some, so he could help Pokerface out in that department.

Our party continued to Chatty and Smiley's apartment. When I told them that I'd never seen, or for that matter tried, marijuana, they had to show me. I found myself smelling on some dry balls of green-gray herbs. This was not the day my Swedish don't- take- drugs-heritage caved in, but the cultural shock was quite massive. If you get caught possessing marijuana, you'll get a ticket, the same as you would get for walking over the street outside a crossing. With other words, smoking weed is no big deal here, public intoxication is much worse.

However, as long as you're in a group of people and don't draw attention to yourself, the cops will leave you be. But if you're alone and unable to identify yourself, you're in serious trouble (of course I had forgotten my ID that night). But still we walked from party to party, meeting patrols on the way.

The Americans have a different way to drink than Europeans. We take it slower and the parties continues until early morning, here everyone gets plastered really fast and the party dies before 12.

I woke up early afternoon and, after directing Al to the shower, I took a jog in an attempt to revive the brain dead sponge in my head. When I got back and had breakfast people started to drop in. If you don't have plans a Sunday afternoon you go to friend and do nothing together. The first to arrive was Youtube, a Brazilian film student. The next one was Pokerface. He was hungover and needed a double espresso to start the day, so we went to Starbucks and spend a few bucks on shots of coffee. Afterwards we took the bus to downtown Santa Barbara (students ride the bus for free!) and Pokerface could buy an espresso machine for his dorm room.

Turtle and Eddie (there's many new characters being introduced today, you'll get used to them soon) had joined us and together we made dinner at my place. Youtube excelled in the kitchen, making quesadillas to all six of us. Inviting people over who can cook is a perfect way to get dinner when you're too tired to make some yourself. He was really good at making caipiroskas too...And yet another day faded into a mist...

I'm bad

"...everything you say can and will be used against you..."

My running commentary can be critical, judgmental and exaggerated. The cruelest thing is that the victims of my spew are defenseless, since I'm the all powerful author of this blog. So I had some explaining and excusing to do when Zac read it. "You wanted to strangle us!" and "Did I really write that on Raingirl's back? I have no memory of it, I'm sooo embarrassed". Well, I'm not thrilled having the bed vibrating with bass sounds, but loud music is fine during holidays and weekends, so strangling is definitely unnecessary (and would it be the day before the finals I would use a doorbell instead of rope). Regarding the second line though, that is no exaggeration.

Nicknames are another thing that has the potential of offending people. Some are perfect, but most are made up hastedly, it's hard to find a fitting name for someone I just met and barely know.

You should know, I actually do like most people I meet, my roommates are amazing, my neighbors are incredibly welcoming, the other exchange students are kind and friendly, honestly, the only bad guy in the company is me not letting them know how great they are.

So, what have I been up to the last days?

There was this two-day orientation for international students at campus. They answered all unasked whats, whens, wheres and hows. Mostly it was a social event, meeting the other foreign students over dinner parties followed by (off-campus) beers. I finally met Stranger, who therefore no longer is unfamiliar, but however, nicknames are immutable. She is the only non-engie in Team Sweden so that's why we missed her before.

Yesterday we spent the evening at Princess's place on Del Playa. That's the long street closest to the beach in the popular student area, Isla Vista. There are parties every night in the houses. When I got home I saw a message from Zac on facebook and needed to have a long heart to heart talk with him to clear things out. I think we did okay in that blunt drunken way and found things that united us: the Swedish musician Basshunter!

Today my mind was a mist, but I managed to register for a few more classes. Now AI, computer graphics and a little bit of math is on the schedule. After a welcoming party more patronized than a primary school disco, we had an EAP gathering on Del Playa. On our way home the entire street swarmed of students and police officers. A chunk of the street had been roped off, there someone had been stabbed. There were people everywhere and parties in every second house.

This is an ordinary Friday night. Unfortunately, I think I got some kind of food poisoning because I feel really sick...

The Key to my Salvation

In the mailbox I found a brand new key from Sho, so now I can leave the house again!

Princess lives just one block from me and we and Turtle had a lazy afternoon on the beach. Tomorrow there will be an orientation on campus, but it's unclear where, when and how? This is supposed to be the "Information Age" but no one updated the schedule since last year...

Today I stopped whining and started to wine. So now I can run Spotify on Marvin (who is into African philosophy). Which is great since I've deleted the hard drive to make a clean installation. Not having music drives my crazy, not having a working computer makes me mental...don't get me started on the problems with Marvin, it makes me depressed...

I've gotten some comments about my blog. Yes, the titles are song titles, all but one, which is a book...Can you spot it? (but you can't Spotify all of them though). I've hidden references to popular culture all over the pages, yes, you know you love me, xoxo!

Yesterday

I woke up with "Zac loves you too" written in mirror writing on my back. I felt like I'd missed one million years of evolution, but still I tumbled out of bed and helped Raingirl to the bus. It was all the neighbors' fault, we, Raingirl, Turtle and I went over and had a drink. Or two. Or three. Or...?

Americans have all this awesome drinking games, so we played Ride the Bus (remind me to show you sometime) and beer pong (don't remind me...). That is nice, in Sweden you just sit in your corner and drink. And then I found a marker pen and ran high wire with it. A few revenges later, we all had writing on arms and backs. Raingirls back got "I was here..." + arrow down, I suppose I was lucky...

After waving off Raingirl, I went to the office of Student Health Services to fight the deamon lady in the reception regarding the health insurance. This time her boss was in and she (the boss not the deamon) approved the waiver immediately. It was the last day to waive out, however, so I warned the Princess about it. We are four students from Lund here. Me, Turtle, Princess and Stranger. I haven't met Stranger yet, we kinda missed her back in Lund :"-/

Smile and waive, boys, smile and waive!

Breaking and Entering

Today was supposed to be a calm, nothing-to-write-about-day. Instead we got a dramatic twist.

Raingirl and I explored my neighborhood. We went for a long walk and then we returned home for some homemade tortillas. The sun was up so we headed for the beach. High tide and huge waves. It was all fun and games...until someone lost a key. Someone being me. The apartment key is small and golden and I've been thinking about getting a key ring to it, but haven't found one yet. And now we didn't find the key. We searched in the sand while the tide was coming in. I felt the panic rising with the tide, all my roommates are at their parents' and wont return before the weekend. I had no phone or money on me. And Raingirl has a Greyhound to San Francisco to catch tomorrow and all her stuff, including flight tickets, are inside the apartment. Life's a bitch.

There was some guys on the beach asking us how we were doing, well, obviously not that great, I explained. And then they asked if we were looking for new aqentainces. I've lost my key, I'm locked out of my apartment and you're hitting on me! Unless it is a very innocent offer to let me spend the night if I don't get in, it's not OK! (Later we met them again, then they had lost their keys too!)

Our neighbors, the one who plays loud music in the middle of the night and who I've wanted to strangle since I got here, well, they turned out to be very helpful. I borrowed their phone to call my roommates, and, later a locksmith. It took the locksmith about one minute and $65 to open the door. And then we were in.

Now the neighbors're knocking on the door. Are one of us 21? Sure, we are. They help us, we help them. Tonight we're gonna join them in the loud music playing. Too much drama in my life.

Santa Barbara

Home, sweet home! After a week of ambulating I'm back in Santa Barbara again. When I got out of the shower this morning I stood face to face with my second roomie, who I haven't met before: Sho. She is, just like T, a tiny Asian fairy. I mean, back in Sweden I'm the tiny one, but now I'm a giant. In addition, after days of junk food a colony of bumps has landed on my face, so I feel like a huge red faced Barbapapa. Charming like a bulldozer.

I have a confession to make: Even though I've been here for ten days, I haven't really been to the city of Santa Barbara, only passed through. This was about to change. My Bible, the Lonely Planet guide that is, only mentions Santa Barbara briefly. Truly, the description of Santa Barbara can be condensed into one word: sweeeet! Downtown Santa Barbara consists mainly of one street, State St, where stores, cafés and restaurants are neatly put together, with sand colored facades and low roofs. The price tags in the stores rhymes with the populations income, but I still found one shop where I dared peek at the prices. Forever 21, the magic age when drinking becomes legal. Here I can fill the gaps in my wardrobe.

Raingirl and I went to the Old Mission, where the most exciting thing was the relic monk sitting on a bench. However, on the way we passed a beautiful building, huge, white and castle-like. This was the courthouse. I mean, if a Santa Barbarian is going to be tried for fraud it has to be done in a nice building. And then we passed through a lovely neighborhood where a fierce political battle was fought with signs in the gardens. This was the city council election. How did the president campaign look like?

And FYI: It hurts hitting your head in a cactus.

9 11

I had forgot about 9-11, but the Americans certainly had not. While strolling on Berkeley's campus we saw a memorial: the digits 9 and 11 separated by a plane, all made of small American flags. There were probably documentaries on TV, but we haven't watched TV in the co-op.

Raingirl and I wanted to go to Alcatraz, but there was no available tours. Instead we bought striped pyjamases (as if handcuffs were enough :'-P) and other souvenirs.

San Francisco is a gay city. Wherever you turn you see a man with make up or girls with short hair and masculine clothing. Those are the obvious cross-overs, and there are many many more who doesn't follow the common prejudices. It's nice to see how liberal California is, even though "liberal" is a negative epithet in US. However, same-sex marriages are not legal anymore in California, because the conservative right made a rigorous campaign in the last election and passed a proposition that said marriage had to be between a man and a woman (thank God(?) that the Swedish Christ "democrats" are less successful).

Berkeley

Today we got arty and visited San Francisco Museum of Modern Art. When it comes to modern art, the less an artist has to say, the bigger is the painting. So there we were, staring at a big uniformly black painting, contemplating the darkness and evil of the world and the emptiness of our meaningless lives, or something. I adore the absurd, and hence my favorite was Duchamp's Fountain, something most of us would recognize as a urinal.

After too many fast food meals we wanted to have a French style picnic in the park and found a small liquor shop that sold wine with the right criterias: white, Californian and with a screw stopper. But then we realized that it's illegal to drink alcohol in public (especially outside the City Hall!) so we changed our mind.

Next stop was Berkeley. Here we walked in on a wine tasting and finally got what we so desperately craved. A lot of it. Raingirl and I had not eaten since lunch and starving we went through the kitchen hunting for food. And found avocado. Avocado is the best thing in the world. Better than sex. Almost. Maybe. We made a survey with the people in Lovebud's co-operative: "What do you prefer, food or sex?" The result was a victory for the food-lovers. So much for the hippie movements free love, huh?



EDIT: Ehrm, yes, well, booze and blogging doesn't match, so I left out some interesting parts. Lovebud lives in a co-operative in true hippie style with 40 girls (they recycle everything and drank from old glass cans). It was interesting how many of them had been to Sweden, spoke Swedish or planned to go there on exchange studies. Sweden is the center of the world!

There is some tension between the Northern and Southern parts of California, the North recycles and saves water, while the South pollutes and uses all water to irrigation.

And one more thing, Raingirl heard from her university that the first case of swine flue had been discovered on campus.

San Francisco

I traveled up to the far north , through cities named San This and Santa That to San Francisco. Arriving in Frisco was like entering Neverland, a mystic island clouded by heavy fog (or magic smoke :-P). I stayed with Raingirl in her fancy hotel. The hotel is close to Chinatown, which reduced our dinner choices to Chinese, Chinese or Chinese?

This morning started with a video call from Sweden, where Blackjack told us about their 26 degrees heatwave, so much for traveling to (sunny?) California to freeze in windy San Francisco. We donned our briskness and went on a looooong walk along the beach towards Golden Gate Bridge. Along the way we saw the prison island Alcatraz and drooled over striped pyjamases in souvenir shops (I so want one that says "Alcatraz swim team").

We saw Crookedest Street, the crookedest street I've ever seen. Maybe the landscape architect had smoked something or the steepness of the hill made it impossible to go straight even when you're sober, but the result was a unique and beautiful street.

We headed for Golden Gate, breathing the fumes from the freeway on the way and then finally, seeing the orange bridge emerging in the fog. Some megabytes of photos later, we jumped on a bus to get back, just to realize that the bus went in the wrong direction. We dived out of the crowded bus causing swearing and sore toes and got on a new one, this time going to the Market.

There we met Lovebud, who came directly from her overambitious studies at Berkeley. She takes a few extra credits (50% more) and had a todo-list like a toilet paper roll. We went to the place were dreams come true: the Cheesecake Factory. Here's no overindulgence too sinful and the sugar rush completely divine.

We ended the evening in the City of Lights, a bookstore with shelves propped with (erotic) gay literature and local poetry. Now we're back at the hotel, being fed the Truth by Fox News Channel (Greenpeace lies about global warming, I knew it!)

Peace out, man!

Labor Day

Today's some kind of American holiday, Labor Day. As a stupid foreigner I asked why they celebrated the day, but nobody seemed to know why. I investigated the matter on Wikipedia and found that it is, not very surprisingly, the American equivalent to what the rest of the world celebrates May 1. However, since Americans usually aren't the ones parading for workers' rights, the celebrations are more likely picnics on the beach. Labor Day marks the end of summer, still I hope to see more sun during the California winter than the Swedish summer...

Tomorrow I'm gonna go to San Francisco for a few days visiting Lovebud and Raingirl. Raingirl's coming back with me to Santa Barbara before she goes to Seattle to study weather...

Los Angeles

There is no way to visit Los Angeles without a car, so Turtle and I hired one and headed south Saturday morning. The drive from Santa Barbara to LA takes about 1.5h, but then, of course, we got off course.

First we had to stop and get my tickets (to San Francisco) in Santa Barbara. Santa Barbara is paradise on earth, stunningly beautiful, reminding me of southern France with banana trees and palms. However, like all American cities, the streets are ordered in a grid with blocks, far from the scattered chaos of European towns.

Malibo
Then we took Hwy 101 south along the coast. With the mountains to the left, the Pacific to the right and a clear blue sky above we traveled through the wine districts. We took of on Mulholland Drive (yes, that Mulholland Drive) down to Malibo (yes, that Malibo). Malibo isn't really a town, more like a cluster of castle-like houses with walls, security cameras and beautiful gardens that abruptly turns into desert where the sprinklers end.


After finding parking on McDonalds, becoming a customer was cheaper than the public parking lot, we took a stroll on Surfrider Beach. No surfers in sight though.

Santa Monica
From the Lamborghinies in Malibo to Segways in Santa Monica beach. This is the place where Baywatch where recorded. The lifeguards we saw was, however, fully dressed :-(. Santa Monica pier, complete with an amusement park, is 100 years old and portraited not only in Baywatch but in Star Trek too. The waves were amazing and the water crystal clear. Go there!

Hollywood
After the swim we took Sunset Blvd past landmarks like UCLA (nice campus!) and Beverly Hills (nice Porsches!) up to Hollywood. There we walked down the Walk of Fame and I got a picture with me beside the star of my favorite smuggler. The Chineese Theater, where all the films have premiere, has imprints of famous people, mostly shoes and hands, but also duck feet and wands.

We spotted the Hollywood sign and after a lot of zooming I finally got a corny picture of it. Then we drove past Pink's, where the stars have their hangover hot dogs, down to our hostel under the landing strip of LAX. The place was cheap and had free popcorn, but otherwise it wasn't exactly Buckingham Palace.


Venice
Combine crazyness, weed and mermaids and you get Venice. I hunted down the perfect pair of pilots among street performers, medical marijuana stands and botox on the beach, and tons of t-shirts with funny (?) prints ("The guvernator" is a good one).



The city of fallen angels
Turtle has relatives in San Diego he wanted to visit and I had to return to Santa Barbara because there are no buses on Labor Day (tomorrow). We separated and I went a tour in Downtown LA before my Greyhound departed. It took five seconds before I realized that I was the only white chick in the hood. These neighborhoods are...rough. Since it was a smoldering hot day I wore shorts. Short shorts. And did I get attention. When I had to walk 1 km from the fashion district to the station, I got several articular compliments on my looks. Especially one persistent gentleman wanted to aid me economically if I made friends with him. The scene was somewhat comical since the top of his melon head was the high of my shoulder and I could easily have picked it with a pit shagi. The Boss once told me that I have "Fuck off!" written in my forehead. It's no good when half the neighborhood's inhabitants speak Spanish and the rest are illiterate. I used international finger language. Now Mom's gonna freak out. But no worries, it was broad daylight in the middle of the street, and I'm protected by a Grand Canyon of class and racial differences, mocking is all they can do, since we all know how easy it is to kill a mockingbird.

Home again
Now I'm back in peaceful Santa Barbara. Ahh...

Bureaucracy Versus Efficiency

Today I met Turtle and we went to see the campus. The large campus area lays just by the water and has dozens of buildings connected by walkways. There are separate lanes for bikes and skateboards, and using them as a pedestrian might result in a huge fine >:-o.

Students from the Education Abroad Program have to register when they arrive, so we went to four different offices, first to get information at the EAP center, then to get an ID card and after that to the Office of International Students and Scholars where they copy passports and visas and we signed some papers. Finally we headed for the Students' Health Services to try to convince the unfriendly lady in the reception that the insurance from our home university is sufficient enough and that we don't need to pay $1000 for UC insurance. However, the lady was a true bureaucrat and could not read the terms of the insurance (three lines saying that it basically covers everything up to any amount) and she who can do that is not in her office after noon. Smooth is not the first word that comes into mind.

We went to the beach instead and made plans for the weekend. Tomorrow we'll take a spontaneous trip to L.A. It's a 1.5 h drive away and hopefully we can met with some other Swedish exchange students there. Now I will take a jog along the coast and then met up with Turtle again for a drink. Not too many drinks though, because, as I learned from the girls I met yesterday, being drunk in public is a crime and the cops patrol the Isla Vista area and arrest drunken students. Having open containers of alcohol in public is also a crime, quite a cultural shock for a student from Lund...

Paradise City

Now I've arrived safetly in Santa Barbara. The airport was basically outside the apartment door. Still my room mate picked me up, we're the only one here. The apartment is one block from the sea and two blocks from the campus. It's spacious but worn down.

T had a class this morning so I went for a walk around the neighborhood and then to the beach. I took pictures of everything, the palm trees, the ocean and funny signs. When I was heading home a couple of guys invited me to there party tonight, one of them had been to Lund as an exchange student, which was a nice coincidence. But we're invited to dinner with T's friends tonight so we'll see if we'll be there...

I was doing some shopping, shampoo, conditioner, tooth paste and, when I was turning red as a crayfish, sunscreen. Something that bothered me was that neither my Visa nor Mastercard worked, but after talking to my fellow EAP student from Lund, let's call him Turtle, I figured I might have to run the cards as credit instead of debit...

We went to the landlord to drop off the lease but it wasn't that easy, I need a guarantor in the united states to be able to sign the lease, my mother isn't enough, but hopefully one of my room mates parents can help me out..

.

Salt Lake City

Six hours wait in Salt Lake City and free wi-fi, yippie!

The *-}- went fine. I biped in the security control in Copenhagen and had an intimite moment with a security gaurd, but afterwards I put all clothes with metal in the bag and the next two checks went throught. I had a few nervous minutes when I tried my brand new Mastercard too, buying the cheapest item in the store, some disguisting candy.

The morning flight to Paris was quite unexciting, I slept the whole time and only woke for "breakfast" (Air France combines minimalistic air plane meals with a continental breakfast, there was no need to count calories).

In Paris I boarded with a herd of suits, all with nametags saying Jesus Christ (I don't really care for that kind of missionairies :'-P). Next to me sat a very talkative 17-year old German exchange student who looked rather like 13. We were friends for 11 hours but lost each other in the costums and border protection.

Flying over Salt Lake City is a strange experience, there are glaciers of white salt around the lake, the sand is redish and mountains surrounds the city. Cool.

All officials I met were really friendly and joking, "Sweden, Stockholm, nice" and "Hi, Red! Going to Santa Barbara, huh, with all the rich people, lucky yoouu", there were no difficulties at all to get into the country.

Now I'm finally on my way. It's a little bit scary, but every one seems kind and helpful. I haven't gotten used to the thought of not seeing my family and friends back home for ten months, and when things cool down I'll probably get homesick, but right now I'm just high on life and adventure.

Don't panic!

Marvin lives! Don't worry, be happy. For now the immediate crisis is over. And it is time for two hours of sleep before I take off. See you on the other side...of the Atlantic Ocean that is.

Leaving on a Jet Plane

T minus five hours.

My life is ruled by Murphy's law, "Anything that can go wrong will go wrong". It started off with a fairly harmless incident involving dye, hair and something that was supposed to be the color red but had a striking resemblance with black. Well, no problem, I fix.

Then, when I should transfer files from my old computer to my laptop, Eniac crashes, glaring back at me with a dead violet screen. OK, no problem, I fix.

When I moved out from my dorm room and had to clean away two years of accumulated dust, the vacuum cleaner didn't work. Arrgh, no problem, I fix.

All that was nothing compared to what happened next. Marvin died. That broke my heart. My brother tries to save him, but we're running out of time. Anything that can go wrong will go fucking fucking wrong.

T minus three hours.

I have to leave for the airport soon, to Copenhagen. I fly via Charles de Gaulle and Salt Lake City to Santa Barbara. The bags are packed. Marvin is still dead. Panic.