Let me start off by saying I realize that I am not using random in the exact way it is meant to be used. Because apparently some people enjoy correcting grammar and word choice while being unable to understand sarcasm in written form. So there. And here comes some random thoughts while in the lovely Stockholm, Sweden area.
I refuse to have a fat child. Fat kids stop being cute at about age three. After that is kind of sad. Especially when said fat child is stuffed into a basketball jersey of a local team and trying to sweep the court. Without shoes. Like an overweight penguin.
Warm weather winters suck. Two degrees, that’s Celsius because we’re in Europe, is just not what is to be expected when I can be in the Arctic Circle in less than two hours. Warmest winter in 250 years. And of course people are clamoring to use this as proof of global warming. I’m just more concerned that I may not be able to use the sled DCP gave me for Christmas. Because I am selfish. And am only concerned with large scale issues when they impact my ability to entertain myself.
I have hit a Swedish plateau. I don’t think it’s getting any better, despite my every day usage. I still feel like I have the vocabulary of a slightly above average Swedish 10-year old. That is to say I can hold a conversation. I cannot, however, expound on the virtues of the business model that governs the major professional sports in the US. Which is unfortunate in that Swedish sports need help. And my tongue still manages to feel fat sometimes. Especially when I try to say “organization.” Which I actually find myself needing to say quite a bit at work. I should probably take some sort of grammar and vocab class. I probably won’t. Instead relying on watching the occasional TV and reading my free newspapers every morning. I’m adopting the osmosis approach. So along with selfish, I might also be lazy.
Professional basketball in Sweden is kind of sad. Like the fat child. I was at a game in Stockholm tonight. Conservatively, and I am not kidding, there may have been 250 people there.
Public transportation makes my pants dirty. Quick. I am not usually one to change my pants all that often. Two weeks with a pair of jeans is not out of the question. If they don’t look dirty, they aren’t dirty. Riding public transportation however has left me changing my pants a lot more often than I would have liked. Just a whole lot of grime that gets collected on my pants. Especially when I wear khakis to work.
As mentioned, it is possible that I am selfish and lazy. It follows that I might also be a bad person. I have been stealing internet. Not so much stealing really. Internet is included in the rent. However, I neglected to pay the start-up fee of 350 SEK. About 50 US dollars. Neglected makes it seem as if I forgot. I did not. It seems the longer we’ve stayed in this apartment the more people have graduated. As evidence I submit to you the dwindling number of unsecured networks available. Luckily, my tried and true, bongo, lived on. Then one fine Sunday afternoon, it all came crashing down. Like Sputnik. In the middle of my internet usage a password was put on the network. And I was left shit out of luck.
Which explains my silence on the blog to some extent. Because while I have done some posting, most has been from work. And I feel guilty doing too much from work. I probably should not due to various issues including near monthly delays in my paycheck, drastic changes in my job description, and other contract issues. Good times. However, my conscience gets the best of me and I keep my internet usage to a minimum. I blame my parents. For the conscience part.
The trains. I hate them. I’m tired of being late because of something I have absolutely no control over. Just the other day I was over an hour late. Because of sabotage. Sabotage. Sounds intense doesn’t it? Turns out it was just some kids who had busted up a couple of the signals. But the conductor said sabotage. As if that made it ok to be so late. It didn’t. I complain about this a lot. And will continue to do so until I can drive my ass to work every day again.
The sun is a beautiful thing. My mood lightens. I feel healthier when I go outside and have to squint a bit because of the brightness. I walk to the train every morning and it’s not dark anymore. Sweden is glorious in the sun. Less glorious in the grey.
And this is a great website. Soapbox Land.
I’m in Sweden. Living. Working. Yup. I’m 23.