Money, Money, Money

Santa Claus came early this year. Mom send an email telling me that I've received a scholarship! Most of it will, naturally, sink into the black hole called household budget, paying for housing, course literature and food. But a little part of it will be used for fun. I will start by getting new headphones to my iPod, so that I can listen to music on my way to classes, singing along with Abba: Money, Money, Money, ain't it funny, in a rich man's world?

New Wave

Finally I got a Google Wave account. This is supposed to be a paradigm change in communication, but for me, it seems to be an advanced chat and not very backward compatible for that matter. I managed to send emails, but it was a hazard. I hope Google will make it merge well with gmail in the future, because, after all, people are conservative.

And after trying it for a while, it's still not better than a normal chat, not between two people. If you want to show pictures, for sure, drag-and-drop is nice, but the writing part is annoying. Too mouse based, opening new windows all the time. And using shift+enter to send instead of enter, what's the logic in that?



Add me and see you in the Waves!

Beat It

Soleil's French friends were visiting for Thanksgiving and they, Golfer and I went to Neverland, because it was in the neighborhood. Michael Jackson sold it five years ago and there's apparently nothing there anymore, except a black gate. Fans had left flowers and declared their love on the walls. The guard didn't want to let us in, naturally, and told us to beat it. What we saw on the other side of the fence was mostly dry desert, which wasn't very thrilling. But at least we had a good time in the car, singing along with They don't care about us, which now is an anchor for a warm and happy memory, play it for me and I will smile :-D.

When we got back there wasn't no sunshine, but still we wanted to go surfing. The waves were huge and the sky gray as a rock, but it's human nature to think that you're invincible and we jumped in. For an hour we fought the current, kicking frenetically when being caught under a wave, getting up again and paddling like crazy to get out from the shore. Don't stop 'til you get enough, well, you've had enough when half the ocean is in your wetsuit and the other half is in your lungs.

We ended the evening by falling asleep with the Usual Suspects playing on Eddie's HD projector.

Perfect Day

Thanksgiving day I slept until 14, then went to the bay with Eddie, Eddie's friend Golfer who's visiting from Texas and Turtle and there we tried to surf. I have been here for more than two months and today was the first time I tried surfing. We borrowed the surfboards and wetsuits from Eddie's housemates. Surfing is difficult. The theory is simple enough, when you spot a wave you start paddling and when you're on the wave you stand up and glide. In reality, it's way harder. First, the waves are rare. Second, it's hard to get on a wave. Third, it's hard to stand up. Everything is basically hard. As a beginner, you don't even know how it's supposed to feel when you catch a wave, but when you do, there's no doubt that this is it! It's like...well, you know. I got on a wave once, suddenly I just glided on the water, but it was so unexpected that I didn't even think about getting up before it was too late. It was so much fun, though, I hope to return tomorrow...

In the evening we had Thanksgiving dinner at Soleil's with a group of friends. We had turkey, mashed potatoes and cranberry jam, punch and brownies. Afterward, we we're in food coma and played who-am-I, having cards with names of famous people on our forehead trying to guess who we were. Except for the food, we didn't really care about the purpose of celebration: the European immigrants being welcomed by the native Americans with food and gifts and afterward returning the favor with genocide, cheers for that!

It was a perfect day.

Thank U

Thanksgiving. Now we're supposed to think about why we are grateful. And then devour a giant turkey and tons of pumpkin pie. I'm grateful for having you, my family and friends, new and old, who cares about me. I'm grateful for the opportunity to pursuit happiness, to get an education, to travel the world. I'm grateful for the result of the genetic roulette, so that I was born with 46 chromosomes and turned out healthy (physically at least :-P).

When thinking, there is usually one factor involved: Alanis Morissette. So I made a tribute to her by adding my own lyrics to one of her songs, and as always, it's basically random thoughts put together and maybe you can find some sense in the white space between the lines...

Thank U

How bout getting off of these perfectionistics
How bout stopping drinking when I'm fed up
How bout them ignorant by flashing blackouts
How bout that ever yes-saying mantra

Thank you fairy tale
Thank you day-dream
Thank you disgrace, embarrassment
Thank you irony
Thank you criticism
Thank you thank you science.

How bout me not begging you for approval
How bout me enjoying the freedom for once
How bout how good it feels to fuck without caring
How bout bleeding it all out at one time

The moment I stopped worrying was
The moment I finally saw things clearly
The moment I quit searching it was
The moment when I found peace

How bout no longer being hid in shadows
How bout remembering my integrity
How bout stopping the quest in search for Prince Charming
How bout not equating love with hurting

Thank you fairy tale
Thank you morning sun
Thank you disgrace, embarrassment
Thank you atheism
Thank you irony
Thank you thank you science...

Hit Me With Your Best Shot

Today I got the H₁N₁ (swine flu) vaccine. The efficiency was impressive, I walked in and out, shot in the arm, within 5 minutes.

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There was a dinner at Alvright's that turned into a party. And my no-idea-what-to-do-during -winter-break turned into a plan. Alvright and me. For Christmas and New Years. In New York.

I Will Always Be Your Soldier

Hazel, I'm truly amazed that you read my blog so unholy early in the morning and that I get a response so quickly after posting my last sorrowful tirade, you're hardcore, and if I can help you get going in the morning I'm not the one denying you your morning fix, :-D. I've done some talking with important people in my life and once again I feel loved and appreciated, thank you, guys!

When visiting Las Vegas I caught myself thinking this I have to write on my blog and this picture will be perfect for my blog, so I'm obviously not done writing. It's a neverending story...

What Happens in Vegas...

...stays in Vegas. Except herpes. Las Vegas is legendary, we have all seen the shaking film clips of the bright lights in the night to the sound of pumping music. Here couples elope to get married, but usually marriage is the last thing on people's mind. Gambling, strip tease, drinking in the street. Welcome to Sin City.

We left 5 am Friday morning from Santa Barbara. Two cars went in the morning and one in the afternoon. Eddie, Apple and I went to Santa Monica to pick up Hippie (who just landed in LA on his world tour spanning from China, the Philippines and Japan and now the North American West Coast) and Nightingale. It's a five hour drive, mostly through the unforgiving Nevada desert.

The first stop was an outlet. I bought the most adorable Converses with orange laces and Hippie got "matching" pink ones with neon green laces. You cannot take yourself too seriously when walking the streets in those bright colors, but no one takes me seriously anyway, so why should I start doing it?

To get into the clubs you need to maintain a certain dress code, including black shoes for men (women can dress how they like, they are to rare to reject). Eddie and Apple who might be the worst shoppers ever, had a hard time finding black shoes in the outlet. Nightingale and I finally dragged them into a store where they got the cheapest shoes they could find, and we were ready to hit the dance floor.

We stayed in Luxor, a hotel with a giant sfinx in front and formed as a pyramid. Like all the other hotels, there was a casino in the bottom floor. The first night we went to LAX, the club in our hotel, right after midnight the day Pokerface's girlfriend turned 21! We sang and drank for her and made a very improvised birthday cake from a muffin.

Saturday we walked along the Strip, entered the hotels and marveled at the sights. Most of the hotels have a theme, for example the Venetian, where there is an indoors channel with gondolas and a fake sky in the ceiling.

Or Caesar's Palace, build in "ancient" architecture and with Romans á la Asterix-style walking around waiving to the visitors. In Paris, the Eiffel tower is one third of the original 's height and we managed to get pretty good breakfast croissants. I felt like a cultural snob walking there, looking at the fake copies of European cities, together with an Italian guy and a French girl, dropping comments like "What on earth does a Trojan horse do in Caesar's Palace?" and I didn't even notice all the statues and fountains with mythical creatures and gods, because, well, that's what people have as garden gnomes back home.

Outside Bellagio there is a fountain that follows the sound of music.

In the night we went to Pure, a night club in Caesar's Palace, and danced on the roof with a view of the neon lit night. Interesting fact is that women entered the club for free, while men had to pay $30. I don't mind saving money, but that is still discriminating. But it's good for business, I suppose, because the more girls in the club, the more men will it attract and the more money will they make in the bar and entrance fees. Money that is used in a dollar rain on the dance floor. That only happens in Las Vegas. My feet hurt like hell when I got back at 5am to the hotel, the price of wearing high heels, but it was totally worth it.

The others gambled a bit, but I don't really like the idea of games of chance, and I'm not good enough when it comes to poker or black jack, so I let it be. As a concept, Las Vegas is interesting, a temple devoted to Bacchus and lust, where the god is money and your worth and dignity depends on the pile of poker chips in your palm. The night flashes by at the pace of a racing heart, ready to live and burn, as if it will burst from the first sunbeam.

Sunday we got back, early enough for me to finish my logic assignment due today at 6.30 this morning.

Enjoy the Silence

I have had a lot of fun writing this blog, it has been an open diary to let you know how and what I'm doing and what I'm thinking and experiencing here in the United States. It is very private, although I try to avoid too private matters. I've been positively surprised when people who I didn't expect to read my blog says something about it, but since you don't post the comments on the blog I don't know what you think about it, or who you are, before you talk to me.

Lately, however, I've gotten a lot of negative comments about the way I chose to live my life, usually involving statements of lacking mental ability, that it's a waste sending me to US because I don't seem to learn anything and if I'm gonna drown my brains in booze I could as well do it in Lund. I get critique for the friends I'm hanging out with, for being irresponsible and behaving like a 14-year old on an emancipation mission.

I want you all to know that I love my life. The pace is fast, juggling studies and social life, battling both practical problems and cultural differences. But still, I make the my own decisions and will face the consequences. You might not like all the things I do, or agree with me, or even recognize me anymore. But what is the point of going abroad if you don't expand your horizons and develop as a person? I'm surprised and sad that you don't seem to feel the same way. I'm not failing classes. I'm not broke (my financial situation is sound). I'm not a drug addict. I'm not pregnant. And I intend to keep things that way.

Due to the lack of encouragement and support I'm not sure I want to continue writing California Dreamin', it's time to wake up from the dream. I opened up and let you have a peek into my life, and I'm sorry that what you see isn't as perfect and beautiful as you expected. This said. Good bye.

Subterranean Homesick Alien

Sunday night Soleil, Eddie and I kidnapped Alvrigth. He was asleep at 7 pm and we we're let in by his room mates, jumped in his bed and pulled him into the car of an Italian maffia guy and drove out to nowhere where Eddie lives and had a nice Italian carbonara. Youtube came back from a week of exile in LA and talked non-stop about the astounding Vegas-trip.

Right now, I'm drowning in assignments and yesterday I was so mad at the classes. They are more interested in testing us than teaching us! I know exactly what I want to do, but I don't know how!. It's the first state of cultural shock I've been told. The anger and frustration, that nothing is like it was back home, where everything per definition is much better. I miss my home. Here I'm an alien, I don't even recognize the image in the mirror anymore.

Last night I went to the movies with Eddies photographer friend. We saw District 9, a science fiction film about an alien colony on earth, but in reality a commentary on how the society handles immigration and the violent nature of man, especially all the running around with weapons and a camera angle reminding of first-person-shooter games.

E.T phone home...

I Don't Wan't to Miss a Thing

Having dreadlocks is like making a social experiment. The hair is a girls most important attribute for sex appeal and when she deliberately "destroys" it, the reactions are strong. When I emailed pictures to Mom, she wasn't exactly happy about it. She asked if I had gotten too little love as a child and pointed out that she loved me just the way I was without dreadlocks. I'm glad you love me just the way I am, no matter what my hair looks like :'-P. But most people are impressed and like it, of course, few would tell to my face that it looked awful and that I should shave them off. Especially strangers give loud approval: a girl on the bus mouthed "I love your dreadlocks" and when I skated to a party Friday night guys yelled "I like your hair" and "Legit!" after me. For sure, then I had two high pony tails, stonewashed jeans and a red jacket, skating, looking rather like a cartoon character.

T's boyfriend is here celebrating his birthday. T gave him a longboard, the same that Bomber has. Three fourths of the enormous chocolate cake is still in the kitchen. They're so cute together and T is all flushed and blushed all the time :-).

On a party last night, Alvright confessed that he'd never seen to girls kissing. He's from Chile, they're kind of conservative there. "We can fix this!" was my immediate reaction "Where is Soleil?". I don't have too many inhibitions really, I mean, if you never dare to try something, you might miss out on one of the greatest experiences in life. We found Soleil in the kitchen. After waving her over it took about five seconds to explain the gravity of the situation and additionally five seconds later we had made Alvright's dreams come true. When Eddie came he was devastated for missing out on us making out. Yes, Eddie, Y O U M I S S E D I T !

Dreadlock Mädchen

Some of you will freak out when you read this. Or like it. But most likely freak out. I have d r e a d l o c k s. We sat in the living room in Flamingo's co-op for more than 4 hours, combing, rubbing and waxing my hair. Now it smells like coconut surf wax, feels like a woolen helmet and looks like stripes of a sandy dusty blanket. I guess that I won't get anymore comments on parties about my pretty hair (the soft red curls have been replaced by tight wired locks). Bomber and Accio seemed to be cool with the dreadlocks, but the boys next door were dreadful. Not a white chick with dreads! Personally, well, I just couldn't resist something new and exciting. Where else than in California? I will put ribbons and seashells in the hair and look like a hippie mermaid. And then, when I need to get a real serious job as an engineer after graduation, I might think about brushing them out, or shaving my head :-0. Although in my business, as a female programmer, when companies want to be creative and innovative, I'm not sure that dreadlocks is a negative thing on a work interview...

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It's a Sin

What do tourists do in Santa Barbara in the middle of November? Still Santa Barbara has its mediterranean charm even when it's "cold" (today was a pretty decent Swedish summer day), so the boys went exploring the shopping district. Yesterday we had a small dinner and went to the movies, however, not having a working phone makes my life way more interesting, the Expressos walk in whenever they feel like it and we play cards or have a drink, which is very nice surprises (OK, I'm not surprised anymore). The movie was a sweet lullaby and all four Swedes fell asleep before it even started. Today the boys went to LA and I'm supposed to do some studying.

Today there was an art demonstration on campus, at least I think it was art because they have many of those (but I haven't seen the gorilla chasing the two bananas in a while, maybe he caught them). This time there was people with signs "Satan's child" and a long paragraph from the Bible about Satan's children, sinners burning in Hell in afterlife. I say like the Pet Shop Boys: "Everything I long to do, no matter when or where or who, has one thing in common too, it's a, it's a, it's a, it's a sin!" And truth be told, living here in California is like entering OC or 90210, there is drama! But I can't write on my blog about who spent quality time with the DEA, who are lovers, who went to prison and so on. If you want to know, just ask, and I might or might not tell you...

Circus

Flamingo invited me to his circus show in the park in Isla Vista. A brave crowd had gathered in the dark chilly night to watch. And we got a show worth to remember. There was a guy with a giant screw that he screwed through his nose and mouth with an electric screwdriver. Another put hooks through the skin of his back and hung in the air making acrobatics. They had ropes and rings for air acrobatics too and ended with a fire show. The crowd was wide eyed with amazement.

I had to run home to meet the boys from Canada when they arrived. Angel, McConaughey and one of McConaughey 's friends from Sweden. The boys had left San Diego this morning and been to Six Flags before they got here. Long time, no see.

Eternity

The second wave of unpleasant surprises after Halloween hit us. When everybody left, things where taken or misplaced, especially important things like chargers. I had to send Lovebud's computer cable to Berkeley, and T sent a phone charger to her friend, who accidentally had taken my phone charger instead. I still haven't found my camera charger, but T has a Canon too, so I hope to borrow hers until I've located mine.

Running around as an iPod might be really exciting on Halloween, but the days after when I caught a cold was not so fun. I stayed at home Thursday and Friday, sleeping and drinking lots of tea.

I ordered Eternity II from Amazon in UK, which was only 20% of the price on the US Amazon. Today it arrived. Eternity II is a puzzle, there exists a solution, but no one has found it yet (not officially at least). The first one to solve it gets a £2 million price. The problem is that it's really hard to solve by just trying to fit pieces together, it would take longer than the life of the universe. So you need either be 1) autistic, 2) fu*?ing lucky or 3) write a really good computer program that solves it. Now I have something to do in the enormous amounts of spare time I have...

Rolling

"I went to the woods because I wanted to live deliberately.

I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life."
-Henry David Thoreau

Now the midterms are over, they went OK I think, considering the fact that I didn't study for any of them. There was no time, there was Halloween. In the middle of my midterm yesterday I got a text from T. I had to finish my test before I could read it, but when I did I felt pure joy: "Hurry home, there's a package waiting for you!". OK, guys, I know you imagine a delivery boy with a package waiting to teach me... the definition of the pumping lemma, erase that picture! It was my longboard (shortboard) that had arrived. It's so pretty and small. My neighbor and a friend of my roomies, Bomber (who once won a skateboard with the motivation: What I like the most is to see the boys faces when I bomb the hills) helped me to adjust the wheels and remove the spacers, so now I can turn easily. Bomber's a really good skating teacher and she tells me what I should think about, for example that you pick up a lot of speed in the hills. I went skating all afternoon. The first thing I did was making a new acquaintance: Mr Asphalt. I bombed a hill with myself as kamikaze pilot and scratched my knees and hands when I flew off the board. Well, a little war injury has never hurt anybody.

During the last weeks I've expanded the Venn diagram of friends with new circles. Many fellow exchange students, say hello to my dear Mr Carrot and Double-O-Seven (aka Jean Connery) and a very extraordinary person, Flamingo (pink dreadlocks) who can make any sleepy afternoon way more interesting. He taught me to swallow fire the other night: "Breathe out, if you breathe in, your lungs will collapse and you'll die. Are you ready?"

Halloween

Friday night.
The road blocks went up around five o'clock in the afternoon just outside our house. There were police officers everywhere. People were arriving all day. T had friends coming over from San Diego. Lovebud came from San Francisco and Nightingale and two friends visited from Santa Monica.

The first night The Expressos dressed up as smurfs. I used blue stockings for my legs and arms and we had painted our faces blue with tint. Girls are "supposed" to have small slutty costumes during Halloween so many girls just wear underwear and put on some wings to be a fairy. Being blue in your face is not sexy, but it's fun. We were walking along Del Playa and people pointed and yelled "Smurfs!" after us. Pokerface later told me that smurfs are invited to all parties, they just went to a house asking for a "Brian" or a "Phil" and got in. Del Playa was crowded with people dressed as pirates, flintstones and super marios. And I have a lot of compromising pictures of my friends making out with clowns and cavemen (actually it was the same caveman every time).

Lovebud had a midterm this morning and arrived late, she was supposed to call me when she got here, but my cell phone battery died. I had to hurry from a great party to get home and charge my batteries and be able to call her. Then she had already waited for almost half an hour! I felt so ashamed. On our way home we run into Flamingo, and invited him along. We had been five minutes at myspace before the door opened and people welled in. The invading army dried up all alcohol in the house and broke the sofa. One of the party people was my plastered TA and when he realized that he was at one of his student's place he told everyone that he could get fired for socializing with students. "Don't tell anyone and you'll get an A" he said, I laughed and told him that I would write it on my blog. He will not remember anything of it though, so wasted as he was.

Unfortunately there were so many people running in and out from our apartment so two iPods got stolen, which make my sad and angry.

Saturday Night Fever.
There were people sleeping on the floor and in every corner of our apartment, and everything was so messy. I went with the girls to get coffee in the morning and checked out the beach. Of course the girls from Santa Monica have a way better beach, but we still saw some dolphins!

Then we went downtown Santa Barbara. We didn't really have time for sightseeing before we got back. After dressing up, this time I was an iPod (isn't it ironic?). I got a lot of compliments for the costume...and a lot of pressing on my wheel too, making me sing in high and low volumes, skipping tracks and fast forwarding in songs.

Sunday, bloody Sunday.
And now it's Sunday. Lovebud had to return really early to Berkeley and Nightingale and her friend went back to LA. I have a midterm tomorrow and two on Tuesday, so it's time to study now...


Halloween

Take off your jeans and Abercombie,
dress up like a butterfly or zombie.
See the girls in teeny tiny tops,
Zig-zag between the CSOs and cops.

Join the hubbub on DP,
but careful so you don't get a public intoxication fee.
Filter the SKYY through your liver,
and we're rolling, rolling down the river.

High Highlander and stoned Flintstone,
you never have to be alone:
Make out with Captain Jack Sparrow,
let an Apache pierce you with his arrow.

It's a night to be crazy, be insane,
nothing will pass the roadblocks on Memory Lane.