Lost in Stockholm

This week in Stockholm, traveling anywhere is a bad idea. The weather has been so bad that it’s better to stay at home than go to work, a so called, snödag. Schools were closed, and those who braved the weather took an adventure through the city to get home. Cuz of course SL, the local rail and bus transit system of Stockholm was broken most of the day.

I had a better adventure than trying to get to work on Monday. I was going to Skavsta airport on Sunday evening to catch a flight to London. While Hairy Swede hates on Arlanda airport, I am going to hate on Skavsta, rather Ryan Air. Because Ryan Airline can not only be the silliest airline, it can have the stupidest bus service ever.

The flight was at 21hr (9pm) and I decided to take the Ryan Air bus at 17hr to get to the airport by 18.30. That would give me plenty of time to relax at the airport. Normally, I’m not the on time sort of person at the airports, but this time I felt it prudent to get there in a timely manner.

At 16.55, everyone has queued up at the bus area at Gate 15. At least this time, there was no City Terminalen chaos as the gate checkers were oblivious to bus passengers. At 17.05, a Ryan Air transfer bus passed came into the station, passed us, and went back out again. It never came back.

The Ryan Air bus in Stockholms station was empty. The ticket checker, of course sitting INSIDE the station said the bus was full. Because you know, being inside gives you better visibility to things outside than people standing outside.

She was pretty annoying and after 30min, we all got refunds and went to search for the next bus. Hell if I would trust the next Ryan Air bus at 18.15. It doesn’t beat the 0.00€ flights that Jason found, but a cash return is better than losing the bus ticket.

So I went downstairs to the lower gates to wait for Flygbussarna. At 17.30 people started boarding the bus for the departing 17.50. The bus filled. Another bus came to handle the overflow. That bus filled. So another came to take passengers, one of them being me. I got on the bus and it filled too. So guess what, Flygbussarna sent another bus to fill it in.

Finally at 19.30 I arrived to Skavsta. Checked in bag, had my passport checked. And the check-in counter man said, “You do know the flight is delayed, right?”

“Really?”

“Yea, it will leave at 23.25″ … Boo … At Skavsta.

At 23.25 I boarded the plane, at a little past midnight we took off. We managed to get out of the airport and into the air, on the way to London. Better than the Skavsta airport chaos two weeks ago when Ryanair had the airport close. THAT was stupid.

And at 04.00, I was sleeping in my bed. Finally. In London.

Honestly, I should have learned something about Sweden.

That is, I should now be master of the dairy section of a grocery store. Because I failed that, I am crawling back to become the master of the milk section of the Swedish grocery store. Folks, take heed, learning the different types of milk (mjölk på svenska) takes a highly skilled, milk loving ninja to figure it out. And so, I tried.

Just at the Coop (one of the local grocery stores), I counted 20 different milk-esque items (including different fat levels of the same type). Yes, madness. Bear with me as I try to explain all the pretty cartons of milk varietals.

Regular milks comes in 1 liter cartons or 1.5 liter cartons. Easy to fit in the fridge, but a bitch to keep fresh. I noticed, once opened, this milk stays good for 5-6 days. But hey, they are recyclable, easy to break down, and stores neatly in the fridge. Just use a chip clip to keep it closed tight once the carton is open.
Milk also comes in different color boxes, in case you are lazy, just know the color.
Mjölk – The Red Box - The all american Swedish milk. It’s the regular milk at 3% fat.
Mellanmjölk – The Green Box - Slightly lower fat at 1.5% and literally means “middle milk”
Lättmjölk – The Blue Box – We would call this skim milk at .5% fat.
Minimjolk – The Yellow Box – Almost fat free milk at .1%.
Gammaldagsmjölk – “Old time milk” which is to say, this milk is pasteurized but not homogenized, which means the fat floats to the surface and you have to give it a good shake. (Thanks Melissa for this) Raw milk is pretty delicious stuff and slightly higher in fat than regular 3% milk.
Latte Art – As you can guess, this milk (in cartons that are blue or brown) is used to make lattes and hot drinks. Definitely worth it if you love lattes and hot chocolates.

Important Note: Emma pointed out that the colors don’t correspond to regional milks, like Skåne milk. The colors listed above are for the company Arla.

Matlagninsgrädde – Orange container – Light cream, ie. half and half in the US, that is 15% fat.
Vispgrädde – Red container – Heavy cream or heavy whipping cream that is 36% fat.

The Filmjölk Family

The wonder of Wikipedia is awesome yet again. I’ll summarize what they say though.

Fil is like yogurt but less thick and a bit less sour. Fil is a major part of Nordic dairy culture, not just Sweden. But they all basically taste the same some more fatty, some with flavors, some plain. People eat fil with musli, very tasty stuff. But some folks have filmjölk with knäckebröd or just with jam. Up to you.

a-fil- Comes unflavored and flavored and anywhere from 0.5-3% fat. The “A” comes from lactobacillus acidophilus, a probiotic bateria. It’s advertised as a more digestive friendly fil.
Långfil- Has a slightly elastic feel to it because of the Lactococcus bacteria. This fil comes only as unflavored and in 3% fat.
Aktivfil- Has active cultures in the fil.

Filmjölk – The standard fil that comes flavored and unflavored. This fil ranges from 2.5-3% in fat.
Mellanfil – Middle fil as you can call it. Comes only in unflavored version and is 1.5% fat.
Lättfil – Light fil that is .5% fat and comes in a variety of flavors. There is blåbär/hallon (blueberry/raspberry), persika/hallon (peach/raspberry), jordgubb (strawberry), smultron/jordgubb/vinbär, and lime/banana (umm, strangest combination).
f-fil -

Onaka – Made with bacteria that is supposedly popular in Japan, which never made any sense to me since the Japanese didn’t really drink dairy until recently.
Thanks to Melissa of HuntGatherLove for some of these updates.
Kefir – Eastern-style fil, popular in Russia. There’s a similar style fil in Iceland called Skyr. It is truly delicious goodness.
Fjäll – This is not fil, it is a thin rich yogurt. Hjortron (cloudberry) is supposedly delightful.
Hälsofil – Literally ‘healthy fil.’ It’s been approved by the Swedish Medicinal Products Agency since this fil helps with immune and digestive systems.

And for kicks…
Turkisk yogurt
Greek Yogurt
Skyr
On your next visit to the grocery store with your recyclable plastic bag, experiment with some crazy milk or fil.

When Jeremy Soul first invited me to attend his day game pick up artist boot camp for Love Systems, I was really excited.  And then I felt really weird going to stalk a group a guys on learning how to pick up girls and then head out in the “field” to try out their newly learned skills.

Last week for eight hours I learned what men learned about women.  Before you give me the smack down that dating systems are stupid and full of douche bags, the aim is what we girls always wanted: a nice guy that can talk to girls.

The guys I met were your average Joes, average Svens you could say. They were good looking guys, all with jobs and some sort of life aspirations but missing a girl in their lives. The men attending are one of two types: 1. newly single and now thrown back to the wolverines; 2. men of good status looking to meet women.

As I found out and well suspected, men have tried for eons to successfully woe women.  It is in our DNA; humans are meant to procreate and those that don’t, clean up the gene pool a bit more and allow for stronger, smarter, more beautiful, more tactful creatures to evolve to the next generation.  That’s what so amazing about dating; at the end of the day there’s only one real goal: survival.  On one hand, being humans, we have slapped Darwin in the face and defied death, diseases, and now mating.  Okay, I’m being extremely harsh.

On the other hand, we are giving men who lack a certain je ne sais quoi to effectively compete on the mad race to find a suitable mate.   If we look at birds, it would be like teaching male birds how to build a better nest and increase the level and standards of competition.  That’s what Love Systems does; give men tools to bring the playing field to a move equitable level for men of different status levels.   And you know what? It’s a good thing.  Because somehow the human species is caught up in some perverse game of the most obnoxious men taking women and leaving the rest of the male species to duke it out at lower levels.   Well, fuck that.  There are plenty of men who without some sort of dating help would be at a loss, yet on a genetic level, are perfect mates.

Jeremy who teaches day game workshops turns concept of survival of the fittest on its head by bringing in the group of men that were excluded from the Darwin’s game because they couldn’t get past first base with women; and therefore would not survive to the next generation.  That’s profound.   Let’s teach good men to meet women.   And ladies, the female species is seeking exactly this: quality men of good social standing to produce offspring for the next generation.

But before I give you the whole lowdown on pick up artists as an interloper, what do you think men need to to do to meet women?

And girls, what are your worst stories of men hitting you, at the bar, in the club, on the street, whatever?

Today is Epiphany. Not the epiphany you have when you realize something (although the meaning is derived from the holiday) but the holiday. Basically January 6th ends the Twelve Days of Christmas and is celebrated when the Magi visits Christ. In Eastern Christian traditions, Epiphany is celebrated as Jesus Christ being baptized in the Jordan River by St. John the Baptist.

In Sweden, Epiphany is called Trettondagen in swedish. It is also an official red day in the country so all companies are off.

As for me, I’ll celebrate this holiday that we have a day off and can sleep in and watch tv. Bless!

happy happy joy joy 2010!!!

Okay, Christmas has passed but happy belated wishes to everyone. It’s been a crazy 2009 and I hope all of you had the opportunity to spend it with someone(s) special.

I went up to Sälen, a ski town, in central Sweden for four days. Here are some photos below. We did have some very traditional Swedish decorations and watched Kalle Anka at 3PM on the 24th. Of course, what else would you be doing?

And now for a happy happy new year and to have a wonderful 2010. Woo!

With all good things during the Christmas season comes sad tidings. On the 24th morning, my grandfather passed away. He had Alzheimer’s and was in poor health; his passing I believe relieved his pain.

I wish I had some pictures to scan of him but hopefully when in India, I can find some. It’s hard to grieve for someone when family and the sadness is far away; it’s like being in another world.

But here’s to my pappaji who was a wonderful man. And while he died on Christmas Eve, his spirit lives on through the holidays and in my life.

Saturday nights in Sweden are normally filled with booze, stupid behavior, and downright ridiculously funny antics.

Like the guy who leaves the nightclub so drunk that he pees next to a police car (true story). Or a bouncer who punches a potential customer because he’s pissed off. Or the fact that a friend drinks so much alcohol, he’s not quite sure how he got home at 7am wearing someone’s cowboy hat.

Every once in a while though, the debauchery comes to you, first class, to your front door. Saturday night, Porbjorn and I were hanging out at home since I wasn’t feeling too well. Around 11pm someone starting banging on the door. Seriously BANG BANG BANG, desperation or pissed-offness is on the other side.

Porbjorn went to answer the door while I stayed in the living room. I could hear two people: one youngish sounding male and one female voice, one that an old fat lady would have.

Then in a funny semi-deepish voice “hej, jag vet att detta kommer låta lite märkligt, men skulle jag kunna få låna din toalett? Jag är väldigt, väldigt kissnödig” – basically “hi, i know this sounds a little strange, but can i borrow your toilet? I really really need to pee.”

Before I knew it, some strange guy was peeing in our bathroom (presumably in the toilet) and the other, the funny sounding fat lady was telling Porbjorn jokes. Evidently they came from the party upstairs and were too stupid to use the toilet before leaving. After coming down one flight of stairs, peeing was imminent.

After the Swedish guy’s relief, they both took off. Porbjorn returned and noted that was completely bizarre. I asked about the fat lady and he looked at me funny.
Him: “What fat lady?”
Me: The girl you were talking to?
Him: “Ohhh, that was a skinny Swede who sounded like he had no balls.”
Me: Hahahaha…oppps.
Him: “Yea, and I couldn’t understand the Norwegian, except that he was desperate to pee. I figured we should lend him our toilet.”

Good idea, nothing beats a terrible night then a Swede with a fat lady voice and Norwegian that is desperate to pee.

I had this great sofa. Made out of a type of bamboo in the 1950s in Hawaii. It was loved by my friend’s family until January 2004 and then passed to me. A funky sofa to the max. The sofa cover had red, yellow, orange, brown stripes; bizarre but full of personality. For the past month, I debated whether to put funky sofa in storage or throw it away (it’s too raggedy to sell off).

And then in a fit of chaos, I threw it all away. Blasted “Mr. Brightside” on my surround sound and by the end of the song, funky sofa was in the trash.

Maybe that’s how reinvent ourselves: burn the old, nurture the new.