It Never Rains in Southern California

It never rains in southern California. Never. There is no flash flood warnings. Ever. What is a flash flood by the way? No idea, maybe something Canadian. It's always sunny in southern California. Always. Sunny. And warm. We lie by the pool. All the time. Yes, we do. Yes, we can, get a tan, in February.

Defying Gravity

After 4 hours of sleep I rolled out of bed 05.24. The breakfast tasted ash. It was still dark when we gathered outside Embarcadero Hall 6 am. 23 souls. The only one missing was one of the drivers. However, we had the keys to his buckled old Honda, that by the look of it had survived too many close calls. Our tour guide Alec happily asked: "Who drives a stick?". One of the raised hands was mine. The keys were handed over to Munster, a German guy from my ML class, and together with him, two American dudes and an Italian girl, I got into the wheeled dead sentence.

Before beginning the 3 hour drive we stopped at a gas station. After filling the tank we returned to the car, cheering happily at each other, turned the ignition key and...nothing. The battery was dead. No way, the adventure could not end before it even started! We got out of the car, four of us pushing and Munster behind the wheel (the classic:"Hey dude, loosen the parking brake, would ya?"). A few tired coughs later the engine woke alive, and with even more heart felt cheers we could start our journey.

We got the directions from Google maps (and from Alec: "Go straight!") to the little airport in a nothingness called Taft on the other side of the mountains. Somehow we missed the huge exit sign saying Hwy 33, so there we was in the asphalt desert outside LA, lost. Luckily, the locals knew their home field and we finally found the far-from-straight road across the mountains.

Like most towns inland, Taft is no more than a gas station (people need fuel to get out of there). But unless most ghost towns, Taft has an airport.

The one-way ticket to the heavens.

The first thing we did was signing our lives away. "I have read and understood that the parachuting activities described in the paragraphs above might cause serious injury or death and that I or, in case of death, my successors, will not hold Skydive Taft or staff legally or economically responsible for any malfunction or accident involved in the activities." My signature.

We were divided into groups. I was in group number three. 3 is my lucky number. It was the first time for everyone except Alec. And as a beginner, you don't skydive alone. It's a tandem jump. You get strapped to an experienced diver and he tells you exactly what to do, pulls the strings to the parachute and lands. The skydivers were a strange lot. An old guy with a remarkable resemblance to Hugh Hefner gave us instructions while joking about his five ex-wives. One of the others was recognized as a former porn star. Maybe not my usual crowd, but I'll be glad if I'm so full of life when I'm 65.

We practiced the moves on the floor to have them in muscle memory. Arch your spine. Don't spread your legs too wide, "This is the only time I tell a woman not to spread her legs", Hugh Hefner said. He also told us that he had broken every bone in his body, before he started skydiving, and that this was the safest sport he'd ever tried. How reassuring.

The first group went almost immediately. The rest of us stood on the ground, gazing up, trying to see the tiny white dots. When they got back one guy said it was the best thing he'd ever done. We couldn't wait to board the plane. The expectations were high.

The clouds were coming in and it's not allowed to jump in the clouds. We waited for a few hours for the sky to clear. Group 2 were strapped in their harnesses all along, the tight straps only loosened to let the blood flow to the legs. The weather forecast was alarming, promsing rain during the afternoon. A few of us got some sleep in the couch, I watched skydiving videos and some Olympic sport that I don't even know the name of, a combo of ski jumping and gymnastics. Suddenly the skies cleared and a big blue hole opened up in the clouds. After that everything went so fast. Group 2 got on board the plane. As soon as they returned we donned the harnesses. My partner was a goofy looking long haired dude with crocked teeth. He tightened my harness so hard that my back was arched even in standing position.

We loaded the plane. The rise up to 13 000 ft is the worst. The anxiousness that I hadn't felt before kicked in. I constantly swallowed to depressurize the ears, but my mouth was dry as dust. I had a post-marathon heart rate. I looked out the window on the ground down below. The cars were ants. Oh, heavens! What on earth am I doing? I'm jumping out of a fully functional air craft. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. I'm not brave, I'm just too stupid to be scared.

I sat on Goofy's lap while he fastened the straps between our harnesses. There was some jokes about girls on the laps of guys older than her father and what the harnesses were used for after hours. I couldn't care less about things like that. My only concern was the straps that were pulled so hard I almost couldn 't breathe. The door opened. I adjusted the goggles. The other teams went out. I saw them fall. It was my turn.

I squatted in the door with the tips of my toes outside the plane, my arms wrapped around my knees. The air was cold on my face. Looking down. Hello, world! My mind went blank. No time to think.

My partner rocked me forward, counting "ready", backward, "steady", on "go", out. We fell. Spinning, spinning. Goofy tapped my shoulders as a sign for me to arch. I arched. We stabilized. The 60 seconds free fall felt forever. The acceleration stops almost immediately and the only thing witnessing about the speed is the air resistance. 200 km/h (125 mph). I figured there was no point in screaming because I couldn't hear my own voice.

Goofy pulled the parachute open. The fall slowed down. I looked up. The parachute was all bundled up. Is it supposed to take this long for it to deploy, I wondered. A few seconds later it deployed fully. Afterward, Goofy told that he had had a hard time getting the parachute to open up properly, but during the jump I was happily ignorant and just enjoyed the view. The only time I got my heart in my throat was when Goofy loosened the straps to make it more comfortable and I fell a few centimeters down.

(Thanks Munster for the pix!)

I got the holders and we steered, swinging around in circles so fast I lost my breath. It was awesome. Such a wonderful feeling, floating midair, looping, watching the others below me. Freedom. The adrenaline rush is amazing. It's impossible to describe it without sounding cliche, you have to experience it for yourself. Skydiving is one of the things you just have to do in life, and hopefully it's not the last thing you do in life. Live fully, die happy.

The landing went smoothly, I pulled up my legs and let Goofy touch ground first. The smiles shone on our faces and I hugged Goofy and then ran to hug the others. We had done it! Faced our fears together and bonded.

One hour later the adrenaline went out of my system. I totally blacked out in the car. I don't remember how I got home, but woke up in my bed.

This is not the day I die. How great isn't that?

Jump (For My Love)

Yeay, all my midterms are over! Now, when school work doesn't consume my entire time, I can enjoy the fact that I live in California while one of the worst winters in memory rage in Sweden.

This week I've done a lot of swimming since the weather has been wonderful, up to 25 degrees Celsius and sunny. Small clusters of freckles bloom on my cheeks and nose and my skin is slightly tanned. I hope I will get more color during the spring, so that I don't have to walk around looking like a pale piece of dough.

Tomorrow has skydiving on the schedule. I'd expected Mom to freak out about it, so I was a bit perplexed when I hadn't gotten any reaction from her a few weeks ago. I wondered if I'd forgotten to tell her about the jump, I'm so absent-minded that it wouldn't surprise me. I called her and carefully told her about my plans. The only thing she said was "That sounds fun, you know, it seems to run in the family, your baby sister wants to take flight cert and she is only 15." Eh, okay, well, then. Paradoxically, would I've had mentioned anything about any guy, she would have lost it.

Anyhow, tomorrow I'll tell you everything about the skydiving. The chances of survival are significant, in fact, the car ride is probably more dangerous, but still, in case this is my last post, there's something I need to say:

Have a nice life. I love you guys,
M.

Save Me

The computer lab closes at 2 AM. It was far from empty when I left 1.45 in the morning. The project deadline is Friday 23.59.59 PST. T minus 21 hours. Plenty of time.

On my way home I met groups of drunks returning from the discos. Strand of their conversations floated over to me : "...I really love heroin but tonight I only got crack..." I plugged in the headphones and turned up the volume. ♪ Somebody save me... ♫

Duel of the Fates

I'm supposed to register classes for the spring quarter and was struck by the fact that those will (hopefully) be the last courses I'll take in my four years as an university student. Soon I will graduate and then begin a new life, as an adult, a carrier woman, an engineer. However, the prospect of working nine-to-five in an office seems...dull. It's not superexciting, unless I find a really inspiring job, and I don't know what job that would be.

I've always taken the safe way out, I started university immediately after finishing high school, instead of working as a bartender in Spain and save the money for a backpacking trip through Asia. But maybe I would've lived more fully if I'd done things like that. Things out of my safety zone. Being abroad has widened my view of what I can do in my life. What I can and cannot live without. I can live without most of my stuff, I just need a bed to sleep in, something warm to wear, my iPod, computer and cell phone. However, I cannot live without purpose. Or a boring life. So I've started considering the possibility of joining Engineers Without Borders, maybe when I've graduated, and live in a developing country and work as a volunteer for a few months. Or at least join Amnesty International, like Mom did in her youth.

Dreams. For so long, going to California was my dream, it kept me going when the times were tough. But now, when I'm here, it is no more, so I need a new dream...

Girls Just Want To Have Fun

There is madness and there is MADNESS. We were 22 people in a hummer limo, cruising the streets of LA in a three hour pre-party, stopping only to buy food and more alcohol. Not even a hummer is big enough for 22, so I carefully tried to avoid stabbing someone with my stilettos. It was a blast!

The ride

We continued to a night club and danced like maniacs. Vibrating bass, bodies rubbing against each other, sweat, Expressos hugging, kissing and declaring their love for each other in a blunt drunken honesty.

Sunday morning we checked out, most of us returned to Santa Barbara, but I stayed with Soleil, Eddie, Alvright and a cheesy Swiss dude called Emmentaler, for a few hours in Venice beach. We enjoyed sitting in the sun, eying the colorful crowd and listening to an orchestra of drums.

We got back in time to see the last quarter of Superbowl projected on the wall in Eddie's living room, with a pile of guacamole and burgers in front of us and giving a laconic head shake as soon as anyone offered us a beer. Despite the name, Superbowl has nothing to do with bowling, but it's the final in American football (which despite the name involves throwing a ball). It's a major event here in the US, much like the Eurovision in Europe. I don't know the rules, even though Turtle did some attempts to explain them to me. Apparently the orange team defeated the blue team (New Orleans Saints - Indianapolis Colts, the score was 31-17).

Good News, Bad News

I have some good news and some bad news. First, the bad news is that I was supposed to go skydiving today, but the weather is too bad so it had to be rescheduled. The good news is that now I can go with the rest of the guys to LA and celebrate Alvright and Soleil's birthday. Soleil turns 21 today, so it's a big deal! Yesterday we had a wonderful party and tonight we'll go to LA, have a limo pre-party and then go to a night club in Hollywood. And return in time to tune in Superbowl tomorrow...

Five Months

It's halftime. Five months have passed, five more to go. Maybe it's time to contemplate for a while, for once. What wisdom have I gained during these months? ...I draw a blank there. Let's try another strategy, let's play never have I ever... Five months ago, the only in-sink-erator I had seen was on TV. I had never hold a check, and certainly not written one. I had never surfed nor skated. I had never heard off In-N-Out, Dunkin Donuts or Yogurtland. The first weeks the grocery shopping took forever because I had to convert from $/lb to kr/kg, from gallons to liters and from fl.oz to...? And I'm still surprised when I take out a big bunch of same-sized-same-colored bills just to realize that they're all 1 $ and that I have to pay with credit card.

Living in an other culture is exciting, but stressful. The first weeks I felt like a complete idiot most of the time. How does the laundry machine work? What does a mailbox look like? How much is a dime worth? The culture curve looks like this: first euphoria about everything new and exciting, then frustration with everyday differences, after that surface adaption, then confronting deeper cultural or personal issues, then assimilation and adaption, then depression of having to leave, then going home. Now I'm probably in the surface adaption stage. I'm pretty used to everything and can function in the daily life, but still, there is just some things I simply don't understand. The 21+ for drinking, while they have 16 for driving. That everything that matters is money and beauty. That you can go to class in pj's as long as you wear make-up. That there's almost no roundabouts and in those that exist, people don't know when to yield. But at least I don't have to struggle with an entirely new language, and I didn't get stuck with Mormons as roommates. :-D