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...