Ok, short but sweet, I’ll say. Nothing too much today, shopped around Lund, thrill a minute. Got another massive email from John, which like 70 thousand people replied to in my inbox, so received an inoordinate amount of email. PS the fake eBay people trying to steal my money have now sent me about 15 “final notices” asking for my credit card information. Come on, get a new con already. A good one would be “I kidnapped your mother, $2 million by Tuesday, please.” Scotland Tuesday, and the real question is–red dress, or green?
Today it is snowing here, again, and things are carrying on, as usual, and the tire on my bike is flat as a pancake and the closest repair shop is like 4 kilometers away. So now I have to ride the bus, which is SEK 12, but luckily, i got a rebattkarten, so now it’s only SEK 9.50 (~1.25) per bus ride. That means it is like $2.50 every time I want to get up to the town/back. I could walk but the slush & ice might cause me injury by fall and then it would cost thousands in health care costs, so what’s the point. Oh! I forgot, I’m in Sweden where it doesn’t matter how sick you are, the state will keep you healthy & happy–and since I’m a student here I am insured until June 3. Lucky me, I’ll walk on, despite the risk of bodily injury and permanent disfiguration.
Oh, the reason for the flat tire. Long story short: Russian rides on back of bike, breaks bike. Long story long: Wednesday night, Party at Västgöta nation caused 7 internationals (2 french, 2 russians from latvia, 2 romanian, 1 kat) to travel about 6 km to party. Yura, 1 brave Russian/Latvian soul, had no air in his tire and needed travel to a bike shop. Arrived at one bike shop with bike in tow, air pump did not fit bike. I, being the strong American ox that I am, offered the poor boy a ride on my steel steed. I pulled him all the way to the nation, in the icy snow, with only one brief 2 minute interlude of Yura driving and crashing painfully before I took the reigns once again. On the way, the fender fell off Roxanne’s bike, the tire fell off Raluca’s bike, and we generally took 1.5 hrs to travel the distance we should’ve covered in 15 minutes. However, the party was great fun and I did get to see some (anonymous) friends find love in the sweaty mix of the dance floor. I think about 75% of the people there were actually making out on the dance floor, which leads me on to the next subject.
Swedes! Sexy, Sweaty Swedes. With no concept of PDA or propriety of sexual actions in public places. I have never seen more people kissing, fondling, and dancing dirty than I have here in the Swedish southland. I guess when they finally crawl out of the holes they live in in the day time, they get some drink in them and really come out of their shells. Quite interesting actually. You may never meet a happy Swede by day, but you will meet 100s every night in the clubs, and they will quickly adopt you, dance with you, and invite you to an afterparty, after which, it is unlikely you will see or hear from them again no matter how many phone numbers were exchanged.
Our first big snowstorm: Finally, Sweden as it should be–cold and white! Unfortunately, thus far it has just been cold. Really, really cold.
In celebration of the icy sweetness, Dima, Marielle, Marion, Raluca, Diana, Astrid, Judith and others took liberties to fire snow cannons at one another in the winter wonderland. Unfortunately it still gets dark here in the middle of the day so it was dark. We then built the most ginormous snow lady you have ever even imagined. She was like 7 feet tall and stood far above all of our heads! It was great. It took a lot of creativity to figure out how to lug a 50-pound ball of ice onto a 100-pound ball of ice, but one broken chair and 20 sticks later, we found a way. The chair was reincarnated into arms for Aphrodite, anyway.
Ended up going to Smalands that night. It was fun, dancing, pretty good tunes. Anyway, have to publish before my computer dies. Paz.