party of the decade.

Önskar så att jag kunde ha varit där...

hero of the day.

Dad, you're totally awesome for looking through my entire room and the attic to find a stupid sketchbook. You're the best!

the king is the king.

While browsing away on youtube, I came across this clip of the Swedish king getting cought smoking after the Nobel Price ceremony. Classic. Man, I'm actually really proud to have a king like that. This dude is FUNNY!

dancing on my own.

Ok, this song is probably one of the most played songs back home right now and I freakin' love it! But after my friend Anna nodded me in the direction of this clip I sort of just wish that Robyn had some self-distance. Please, she would have been such a perfect person (wicked fashion skills, singing skills, song-writing skills...) if she had kicked that mic and made a joke about it, or perhaps not fall down to her knees in a mini-dress... I still love you, Robyn. But seriously, being too cool is not awesome.

swedish party.

This weekend was all about my home country, with meatballs, lingonberry jam, brown sause, Norrlands Guld and heaps of Swedish music. A lot of people knew about the music, but just didn't know it was Swedish, which made me feel pretty proud. I was also very surprised to find that this song became sort of a croud favourite. It's such a cheesy old song, that's hilarious...

snow a lifetime ago.

A package from home was dropped in our mailbox today, which contained some of my developed, crappy Diana photos. It seems like a lifetime has passed since I took those photos and I really hope it doesn't look like that back home still...

implode.

Not all awesome things happen in Australia. This one for instance, sure is awesome and is very much happening in my hometown Mariestad - my little brother is going to be a freakin rock star! He's the bass player of death metal/ thrash metal band Implode, which recently was signed with a major record label and are in this moment recording their first official album. They've been playing together since forever and it's so great that they finally got signed. Now go and check out their music here!

hello new world.

The plane to Brussels was very tiny and full of businessmen with white hair. Before taking off the crew had to clear the wings from ice with some kind of pink liquid. It dripped and dropped all over the snow below, creating a bloody scene if the victim had had pink blood. As the sun rose the color palette outside my window felt very 80's; light blue, peach, pink, light green and yellow. After feeling the last of the winter cold I drifted to sleep and stayed there. I woke up in time to see a white dog run across a field and five seconds later we were in Brussels. I went straight to my connection flight. Many of the white businessmen followed. One of them, a middle aged, chubby man with back-slick cut the line before me to the check-in. I gave him a murderous look so full of hate I could have spit in his face. I was one of the last to get onboard and was even escorted to the plane by a French speaking flight attendant. I was seated next to a guy my age. I thought we had been in Holland all along, but he told me Brussels is in the Netherlands... or was it Belgium? I still can't tell the difference. Those three countries are the most confusing nations in the world. It's not that I'm bad at geography, it's just that they don't seem to get up their minds. One day Holland and Netherlands is the same country, then they are not and you're not even suppose to call it Holland. Then they speak Dutch and that's too much like Deutchland (Germany), but apparently not the same.
Anyhow, the scene turned pink again as we got in the air. The clouds looked like cotton candy. This trip went fast because I had company. For some reason we didn't introduce ourselves but I pictured in my head that his name was Stefan. At the end of the trip I found out I was right. Sometimes I think I have magical powers. In Abu Dhabi I saw Arabic men holding hands, I knew about this tradition but couldn't help myself from finding it utterly cute.
The last flight to Melbourne was all about How I Met Your Mother and then I just slept. I woke up in time for lunch, but in my time I wanted breakfast. My whole body reacted against the vegetarian lasagne, having this kind of food straight after waking up was wrong. As I looked through the window I saw Australia underneath. It looked golden brown with a bunch of sandy white holes in it. I imagined myself as a snake radar, detecting the most poisonous ones down there. I played with the thought of dropping highly accurate bombs on them, eliminating all dangerous and disgusting creatures, perhaps even turning a few species extinct. I wish.
The flight attendant told me to unplug my headphones as we prepared for landing. Sure, I said and got back to my playlist when she left. I Blame Coco featuring Robyn sang me to the ground, rebelliously. Dealing with the border police was a piece of cake. I thought it'd be harder to get into the country, but truth be told it was actually easier than entering Sweden. After a bus trip full of backpackers I finally reached my hostel. I got my room key from a 70's styled hippie guy with afro and a voice of a baby. I think he smoked a lot of weed. Then I left all my crap in the room and went for a walk in the area.
My first impressions of Melbourne felt like a mix of every place I've ever been to. The streets were wide and there were tall buildings like in New York, The architecture felt European but new, sort of like in Washington DC. The traffic runs on the wrong side of the road, just like in the UK. The streets were very clean and smooth, like in Sweden. And I swear, the food stores looks just like ICA in Sweden. The air felt dry but tropical and there were green trees, like in South America. The smell felt sweet and sort of spicy, like in Korea. And they have trams just like in Gothenburg. The city feels European, yet American, yet tropical. Kind of an awesome mix.
Next morning I woke up at 5 and couldn't go back to sleep. As I tried to drift I managed to write the beginning of a short story in my head. The shower was awesome and not full of spiders as I had prepared for. No funnel webs in Melbourne. After breakfast in front of Family Guy (a huge American guy laughed out load all the time) I went out in the city. The previous night I had got myself a massive shoe-shave on both feet, so now I limped my way to the nearest shoe store to get myself some flip flops. I crinched as I forced the word "thongs" out of my mouth, because that's what Aussies call flip flops. With aforementioned shoes I started to take the city. Halfway through it started to rain heavily, but it stopped as quickly as it had started. I found a Kikki K store, which is a Swedish stationary store. I was happy to speak some Swedish with a woman from Skåne and tried to flirt my way to a job. It didn't seem impossible. After lunch the jet-lag started to kick in and I got really dizzy. The place shook as if I was on a boat. But it only lasted for a few minutes. The rest of the day was filled with house hunting and more shoe-shave. I got back to the hostel in the afternoon feeling completely exhausted and fell asleep reading The Wild Things.

good bye winter.

I'm leaving now. Good bye, winter. Good bye city of Marie. Good bye Sweden. Good bye Europe. It feels like "good bye Earth" because Australia is so far away, like a different planet. I sure will miss everyone and everything, even the snow. Probably I will just say that for another 48 hours, and then be blown away by the opposite. But right now it's very hard to imagine a world without it... To everyone who fits in to the category of "You know who you are", I just have one thing to say to you; it starts with an "I" and ends with a "love you".

the next ice age is here.

And I'm not talking lame kid's movies of flying squerells and boring mamoths, we're talking full on real ice age here. Just have a look at these photos from outside my window and in our backyard - it's crazy! I've never seen anything like it! And the wheather people on the news tells us more snow is coming. Definitely another ice age. For sure.

hooray for work space.

The snow outside is 2 feet deep, so both me an my cats stays indoors a lot. Yeah, I know, I talk about those cats all the time, but what can you do when they're so darn cute! For one thing they don't give me much work space, because they need to be close for cuddles. That is just so fucking adorable I really don't mind having them laying across my keyboard making my typing look LIKE THIS !""##€#.

winter.

Winter. I don't like it. It's cold, it's messy, it's too long. Three years in the UK and I completely forgot about winter-itchy skin and cracked lips, about the mornings of "holly fuck! Is it really THAT cold?!" and watching the sun rise and set in the matter of just a few hours. Sure, there's nice things too. Like today, when I found this amazing little trail just a block from my house. I can't believe I haven't been walking this way before. It's almost like discovering Narnia in your backyard.

new habits.

The new year started with a new habit; waking up dead early and going for walks in the snow with me mum. It prevents being a slacker and sleeping all day, plus it's good with a little excercise and quality time with the parent. I recommend it, even though it makes me slow like a freakin' zombie for the rest of the day.

snow ghosts.

I'm taller than you, Anna :)

merry xmas.

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve, the day that all Skandinavians celebrate more than Christmas Day. I hope everyone who reads this will have a super great lovely Christmas with lots of nice food and presents. I shall be back with more Stingosaurus adventures after the holidays. Until then, take care everyone!

home again.

my life weights too much.

I'm spending my last day in Glasgow and the UK tomorrow. Bags are packed and far too heavy. It's gonna cost me a fortune to get them flown to Sweden. Most of my possesions however will be donated tomorrow. It's such a relief to weigh considerably less. I don't need all this crap that I carry around. I don't even know if I need the crap I sent in million packages already. Probably not. Why do we all need so much stuff around us? When I write this I'm taking overdoses of vitamins and mouth-wash, while rubbing my skin with body lotion and spraying my hair with hairspray that I thought I needed once. I will throw away so many unopened packages. So stupid.

a day on planet stingo.

I wake up feeling exhausted. The kid nextdoor is always crying. I hear its mother speak with a wordless Scotish accent from the other side of the wall, clearly upset. I also overhear a phone conversation and the word "disaster". After the shower I find a fat cat on my bed. How can she get into my room when barely I can? You have to litterally kick the door to get it open and it's physically impossible to open it while carrying two things at once for instance. This cat is either superman or an alien. Anyhow, I get the cat out quickly and I imagine that my throat is soar now. But then it always is in Glasgow. I'm drinking coffee and eating a sandwich while watching some Swedish television. A Norweigan princess educates me about angels, and apparently you can survive under water for an hour if your brain's almost frozen. Norweigans are funny, why did we ever give them up? We should all be one happy country (sharing Norways happy oil-money).
I catch bus 205 into town. I think about people who are sad and realise that I am not. Being alone and being able to enjoy it is a freakin skill not many people know how to master. Sometimes I am queen of fucking everything. A grey squerell outside the window is not however. It's been run over and lay flat and stiff as a stick on the side of the road with a tortured facial expression, if squerells can have such a thing.
In town I take some photographs and run up and down not knowing what I need exactly. Was looking for a book by Alice Monro, but found another one which I bought for 11.50. I don't know why I decided to get a book today. I never buy books if I don't have to. This one I just had to have though and I don't want to tell you why. Later on I make my way through the moving forrest of people, while playing "You Make My Dreams" by Hall & Oates. I imagine I'm in a music video and actually dance through the crowd, because that's what my feet wants to do when this song is played. Town is packed with people today and everyone seem to be farting. It smells like warm sneaky farts here and there when I have to stand still waiting for the green man or watching the drummers perform on the street. Farts always makes me think of Paul Sahre showing me how to do the word in sign language. I have now showed it to almost everyone I know. I'm not very good at party tricks.
In town I also see between 5 and 10 blind people scattered all over the place and wonder if Glasgow perhaps is a city for the blind. It's not pretty, so at least they're not missing anything. I buy some more things and feel as if I have to survive on air for a while. Almost no money left in wallet. Somehow that thought exhites me. I don't see poverty or the recession as something necessarily bad. In fact it makes me more creative and I can't help but to be freakin' positive. Bad things always brings good stories, I suddenly realise. For instance, aren't there shitloads of great books written by concentration camp survivors? Or how about Van Gogh; if he had lived a normal, happy life his art wouldn't have been as famous as it is today. A little injection of disaster is good if you can find a way to deal with it, I reckon.
It's getting dark when I steal something in a ----- store unintensionally. It doesn't make me feel bad, because it's not my fault. When you get something for free by accident you should accept it as a gift. Perhaps this is what all theifs think.
My feet are now soaking wet, because this is Glasgow and a sunny day never stays sunny here. I wait for the bus for exactly 4 minutes under my unbrella. I can see from a distance that it's packed and I have to stand up in the front. I don't mind really. As long as I can go places, I'm not complaining. I realise that's what my life is about in a way; to always be on the move to somewhere and to always be somewhere else. I wonder how other people's lives are like, if they ever feel the same. The bus is so full of complete strangers, we are a big mass of brains and hearts and guts and farts. If we crashed we'd be one big puddle of blood. The thought of them thinking something similar makes me want to hug them. I love every undiscovered friend in every city I've ever been to. Especially in New York. I think about NYC and miss it almost like a person sometimes. Ralph Charell told me that New York has a soul, it's not just bricks and stones and tourist attractions. New York is something more, and maybe you can only discover what it is if you let yourself believe you can be a better person there. I suppose this is true everywhere.
Glasgow is damped and it's making my brain freeze. But then again, in those conditions you can survive. I imagine that I'm surfing on West Indian waves as the bus slide into my stop. Regina sings "I'm the hero of the story, don't need to be saved". I open the door to the flat and feel terribly guilty for not answering a lot of emails. In fact, I'm a little more stressed out than feeling guilty. I hope you all read this and know that it's nothing personal. I then heat up some spaghetti bolognese which is already cold when it reaches my mouth. I think about how dead Nate in Six Feet Under is and make a sketchbook while watching Kobra. I'm probably a little spaced out from all the glue when I sit down to write this and now it's suddenly Sunday.

The photo was taken in Stockholm with my Diana by the way.

if you ever feel stressed out.

This is a little film from my hometown in Sweden and this is exactly how it's like living there. The song is from the soundtrack of Where The Wild Things Are, called "Food Is Still Hot", which is exactly what I feel like whenever I go home.

you are missed.

Just got back to the UK again. I never thought I'd see a trip home as a vacation. But that's what it was and it was awesome. Only wish I could have stayed longer. I'd been away for a really long time. Long enough to see newly opened stores go bankrupt before I even learnt their names, meet old friends with entirely new careers and see people loosing weight and not even remember them being fat. It was strange. But nice too. Even though it's been so long it's still home. Everything tasted sweet back home; the air, the water, the atmosphere. I even started liking Stockholm. I've always had something against the capitol city. Always thought people had attitude problems and were too anti-social. This time someone told me I had a cute hat and the ticket people had time for a chat. Maybe it was just such a releaf to be back it was hard to not love everything. I guess that's a good thing. By being somewhere completely different for a while helps me to appreciate where I come from. According to Michael Moore, everyone's jelous of how we've figured everything out in Sweden. We only complain because we're bored. This time it wasn't boring to be home, it was just like heaven. And I'm so sorry for talking behind your back, but I really love you, city of Marie.