stockholm

Games are afoot

It’s as good a time as any to have a story time, so here it goes. Once upon a time there was this guy who was trying to meet someone, and living in Sweden means that it’s nearly impossible to do it in person so he went online. He came into contact with someone, a few weeks after he had a very traumatic experience with someone else that left him shaken and unwilling to jump in head first.

It started out basic enough, nice conversation and similar interests in films. The chatting went on for a few weeks here and there, and then moved to Snapchat where the tempo increased and it was clear that both liked each other.

Plans were made to hang out, go for drinks, and watch films together. The only thing that kept them apart was 30km and the Christmas holidays. However, something interesting had happened in this elapsed time. Photos were sent on a daily basis and chats went on every day, and what might be considered flirting ensued.

This new person was asking all sorts of questions, like if it was okay that they lived at home and didn’t have a good job and was a bit messed up from a past relationship with a girl. This didn’t perturb the hero, because at this point he knew what he wanted and the good that was inside, at least what he thought was good.

And so our hero left for the United Arab Emirates for Christmas to meet a a dear friend, but during this time a Snapchat achievement was made…

Photo courtesy of Snapchat

The evil red heart achievement came into the picture, and undoubtedly was noticed by both. No reaction was made, but it was something that was on the mind of our hero for many weeks.

Days went on, and every day while in the UAE they chatted and looked forward to meeting upon return to Stockholm. More plans were made, and even our hero made a comment about the queue of films, and hangouts in the works. This new person acknowledge and was happy about that, and continued to send flirty messages, emojis, and photos.

The return back to Stockholm was a stress filled flight; one of anticipation and fatigue with no entertainment. Our hero returned back and slept for the morning, planning to wake up in the afternoon and hang out as arranged. Time was getting later and later, and the plans became more delayed.

Eventually nerve was built up, and upon a train this new person boarded. Our hero decided to be polite and meet at the train station upon arrival, that way there would be no confusion about where to go even thought the building was across the street.

Polite greetings occurred and they proceeded back for some tea and chat. The guest decided that beer was the beverage of choice, likely due to nerves and shyness. This was evident with the amount of smoking that was needed; normally this would put someone off, but sometimes people have to look past imperfections for the greater good.

Interesting chat ensued and a passing comment was made about our hero’s hair; what a surprise that it was longer. Well what about the Bitmoji which clearly showed long hair? It was not something hidden in the snaps before, so a bit perplexing.

The guest became curious about some tarot cards that were spotted on the bookshelf. A request for a reading arose, and our hero obliged. Almost immediately our hero realised what the query was and what it concerned. It was clearly a question about a new male person in their life and their unwillingness to let go of the past. In order to seek resolution of the conflict, the querent needed to let go and move on.

Courtesy of Wikipedia

Without spilling the beans and speaking a bit vaguely, the hero sensed that it was in direct relation to the current situation. He decided not to say anything, as it would have been very presumptuous. Panic ensued as the time was noticed; it had barely been one hour, but the last train was departing in the next 10 minutes and the guest needed to go. Quick preparations for leaving took place and pleasantries were made while leaving. “We should hang out tomorrow, is that okay?” the guest asked.

Of course this was okay, and the run to the train resulted in making it with two minutes to spare. During the 20 minute journey flirty conversation continued, and when the new person arrived home again a Video Call was made. Much to the hero’s surprise, already being in bed, he answered. This call continued for another 20 minutes before sleep, and all was good in the world.

The next day came up, and our hero slept in and came awake to the world at about noon, having been jet-lagged as well. A daily greeting snap was sent, and it went unopened and unanswered for several hours. Dinner time came, and finally a reply. Negatory on hanging out, after all. No worries, more sleep.

For the next few days, the same question came up about going for a drink, going to see a movie as planned, or having coffee. Negative, negative, negative. Our hero became suspicious and slightly irritated as clearly the tone of the messages had changed. The day before New Years Eve approached and the hero inquired the plan; few options, no decision made. Our hero usually spends New Years Eve alone eating cheese fondue and watching the Muppets, so he invited the other over to join in the tradition. No answer.

Several hours later, our hero received some snaps clearly indicating that other options were chosen. He went to bed, disappointed in the fact that once again he was left alone to celebrate a new year. He knew something was afoot but didn’t dare say anything.

And so a few days passed, and radio silence. It was at this point that our hero sent a message inquiring what was going on. Up until this point it had been mixed signals: we should hang out, we should watch movies, we should go for a drink. However at every instance of asking to do one of those things, it was met with a no.

Then the truth came out. “I stopped messaging you because you seemed more attached than I was.” Stunned and taken aback. How could this be for our hero? It was the the other one that was doing the flirting and had been leading him on to believe that he was liked. “I am not ready to have any serious relationships, I’m only looking for friends.”

Fine, sure. It’s not like the hero had done anything other than to suggest hanging out. After all it was the flirting of the new person that was defining the relationship. This angered the hero because nothing he had said suggested that hanging out would mean anything serious. Isn’t that what friends do? Don’t friends hang out and enjoy each others company?

Our hero was left to ponder this and came to the conclusion that either he’s crazy, or there is something wrong with other people. And so whatever it was that was going on was dead. Another one hits the dust, however promising the previous month had been. And so he’s left to wonder what went wrong and what was it. Then it all came into focus and there could only one logical explanation.

It’s all about the hair…

Sweater Guy

Call him what you may, it might be Sweater Guy, Mr. Alaska, or perhaps even loverboy unless you ever figure out his name. And thus begins the story of an emotional disaster evening with me, yours truly.

I arrived at the Viking Line Cinderella cruise terminal bound for Mariehamn in Finland for what is well known as a rite of passage for Swedes; a massive party boat. My colleagues organised an event and it was visible from the beginning of the bus ride to Stockholm, that they were drinking heavily and would be for the whole time. I abstained until at least dinner time.

So we got to the terminal and waited for awhile socialising and then finally got onto the boat. We dropped our stuff into our cabins and we proceeded to a pub on the ship to sip a few down. We found a window area and everyone else engaged in getting drinks except me. We engaged in lovely chatting and people came and went as we remained.

One of the remained ones was a gentleman of a youngish nature who was hovering the island around us. We dubbed him Sweater Guy because it was obvious he was looking at us and trying to figure out if we spoke English. I couldn’t help but notice his attractiveness, but I resolved in chit chatting about him. A friend, Christina, and I decided to put bets on if he was British, American, or Swedish. He kind of looked like all of them combined but was a mix. I voted British, Christina voted American.

And so as our evening progressed, so did Sweater Guy for what seemed like an hour or so. We moved around a bit, she got up for a few drinks and the people in our group rotated to going up on the top deck for sunshine. It was too cold for me to consider it as I had no jacket. During this time we noticed this other guy drinking by himself in the same place, but instead he was staring at us in a less discrete way. We pondered what his intentions were, but secretly longed for Sweater Guy to return.

And return he did, and the moment our eyes laid on him we both giggled to each other like little schoolgirls. A new selection of friends had rotated to the bar, and we enlisted them to try to figure him out. Unsuccessful we were, and while I was finally feeling like I should get a drink, I was hesitant. Christina chastised me, because I was afraid and I didn’t know what I wanted to drink, but eventually I built up the courage to go and purchase a Happy Days which might have been the most delicious drink I had ever tasted, only 70:- later.

It was as I was turning away from the bar that I bumped into Sweater Guy and quickly said a quick “ursäkta” and scurried back to my spot at the window. After finally tasting the delicious cocktail that the bartender whipped up for me, I lulled into a more serene emotion, until suddenly we noticed Sweater  on the move. It was not only him going away, but he was coming right towards us. He bent over towards us and asked us if he “could crash in on our party” to which we all said cheerfully sure.

I winked to Christina and we both mouthed American. She was right, and I was wrong. It would not be the first time. He was all smiles, and described himself as an Alaskan visiting Sweden from his home in France where he’s an aviation engineer. The more I learned, the more I smile on the inside. Handsome, friendly, brainy, good smile, and an adorable laugh. We chit chatted and he kept leaning in and flirting. At first, I was thinking he’s flirting with Christina or our other friend Karin, but then I heard Christina in my ear telling me that he’s flirting with me. I shook my head at her and told her “you’re imagining things” cue terrible self esteem.

Time passed and we were enjoying a nice conversation about what he’s been doing in Stockholm and if he’s on the cruise alone or with friends and such. Time went by, and from prior I had decided that I needed to go back to my cabin to prepare for dinner. I estimated 1 hour to shower and get into what I wanted to, and make myself pretty. I wanted to make a good impression and not be lowlife like some others. I looked at my phone, and realised that not only did I not have 1 hour left until dinner, but less than 30 minutes. Time really did fly.

And so at this point Karin motioned to me to invite him to dinner, and she casually asked him which buffet he was going to, and he was a half hour after us, but she said to just come along and eat with us at 20:30 instead. We all smiled and he was super American and all “cool, thanks so much” and I bid him farewell to go get changed.

I literally ran back to my cabin, threw off my clothes, wet my hair, and began preparations. All must be perfect, I thought. I must make a good impression, I must be perfect. Tragedy struck when I realise I forgot my tie back at my apartment, but I figured that it would work without. Grey skin tight trousers, deep purple dress shirt, nice shoes; it looked above average. Concealer thrown on, powder done, mascara set, and for the first time in a long time I elected not to use glitter. A bit of lip gloss and I could hear Sarah in the hallway saying “We are going to be late, let’s go!!” and I off I went.

Passing people in the hallways, I noticed people staring at me. I was clearly too put together for this boat, but I didn’t care. We arrived to the buffet area and the first reaction from Brian was “Whoah, your lips are so red” to which I replied with some sassy remark about being a vampire. We proceeded to go to dinner, and the buffet lines were so long. I showered my plate with goods and then as I was fetching bread, I spotted him. Sweater Guy had transformed into Collard Shirt and Jeans with Dress Shoes guy.

It crossed my mind that my going to get changed somehow influenced him, and there was a moment of warmth that filled my heart. I found myself being drawn to him more and more. His smile, his laugh, the way he moved, just all these things that gave me positive feelings. Whenever he got up to get a drink, I would get stares from everyone around me inquiring who was he and winking at me. One went so far as to suggest that I make a move, and of course I scoffed thinking that it’s not likely.

Conversation was fun, light, engaging, personal, and since he was sitting right next to me I could even feel his aura and energy. As I kept drinking wine, I kept getting more and more sceptical and doubtful of what was going on. Others confirmed, there was flirting, and that his attention was on me. Eventually the dining staff kicked us out, as we downed our last bits of coffee, deserts and wine.

And so began the task of finding what to do. It was only 22:00 so it was quite early, and after wandering around for a bit we resolved on finding a karaoke bar to sit and listen to some Swedish pop songs and have a drink. And so comes the first time I’ve ever had a drink bought for me. I didn’t know how to react, I just was so embarrassed.

We sat down and recounted the examples of the Swedish music we were listening to, and people started to disperse from our group. A couple were left, along with Sweater Guy, and then karaoke started so the music got pretty rough. We decided on finishing up our drinks and going forward on to dancing somewhere. As we were making our way to the Entré Lounge, a phone call needed to be made and then we joined together and danced.

Truth be told, he couldn’t dance very well. As Jessica Andersson sang some covers of popular songs, we danced towards the middle and back of the floor and at one point I was so surprised on lack of rhythm that I asked him if he knew how to dance. He said not really, so I told him I’d show him. I grabbed his hips, and started to help him to feel the beat and move them with the beat. He did not protest, and I could feel a bit more that he was understanding that dancing was more than shuffling the feet. I returned to dancing up a storm.

We took a break to go to the bathroom, and as we were leaving the toilet, I pulled him aside and asked him an important question that had been lingering in my mind. I didn’t know if it was the right time, and didn’t really know what the answer was going to be, but I had felt and had been told that the entire evening he was flirting with me. He was following me, he was sticking to me, when I went away for a second he found my other friends and kept asking for me. He kept buying drinks for me, so I had to know. I stopped him and asked him, “Are you into guys?” and he looked at me, smiled a little bit, and after 30 seconds of the question hanging, said “No” and laughed. I retorted, “Then are you into Alex?” and he replied “Who is Alex?” and I told him she was the girl he was sitting across from at dinner. He said no.

I grabbed his hand, clearly carefree of everything, and dragged him to dance some more. I felt his hand squeeze mine, equally. We danced up a storm, and he bought me another drink, and by this time I was pretty wild. My hair was let down, I was doing backwards bends and snaps, my hands were on the floor, and my whole body was involved in dancing. I am quite sure that onlookers were getting a show filled with WTF entertainment. Drag queens would be screaming YAAAAAS QUEEN, etc.

We took a break, and he bought me another drink and it was at this moment that I thought that I was past my limit. He bought me at least 4 drinks, and I had 4 glasses of wine at dinner so I was pretty much well past my limit. He was trying to get me drunk, I felt it. I saw my friends lounging at the bar and said hello, and they asked me how things were going and told them I didn’t have a chance but I was still giving it my all. Sweater Guy promptly rejoined me with a new cider.

We stood together, drinking it and I started an intense conversation with him about doing what feels right. I think in retrospect, I was trying to justify following your heart and suggesting to him that he’s been a tease and clearly is into me so he should make a move. He was concentrated on me intensely like I had a spell on him. My friend Victor says the same, that when he listens to me he’s mesmerised by the way I tell things and have a great charismatic influence when orating. I played on this and he was agreeing, totally engaged.

I felt my balance giving way so I relocated to a large pillar near the bar, having finished my cider. I wrapped my arms around the pillar and held on for dear life, because I couldn’t stand up straight. I was dizzy, but I was keeping control of it. He came closer, leaned in and we continued our conversation in a more playful manner. I felt him flirting, after all he was leaning into me, whispering into my ear, all the while I was batting my eyelashes desperately trying to keep his attention. Doesn’t take much, I suppose.

We returned to dancing, and I kept showing him how to dance and helping him along. He eventually got tired and I just danced to him and for myself. Suddenly the lights went on and the bar was closing, but we decided to go up to the top deck to get some fresh air. We went, and the sun was rising and all the party boats were in the sea anchored and I showed him. It felt like such a romantic moment, with the wind flowing in our hair, together, and that’s when it started to hit me.

The tsunami strength, force of nature emotions started crashing down around the neighbouring village and it occurred to me that I had been flirting with a straight guy the entire night. I simply didn’t accept him saying he wasn’t interested in guys, I mean, he flirted, he followed me, he was being near to me, so it contradicted what he said. It also took him a long time to respond, so I just doubted. I was just upset, getting teary eyed, turning away from him, thinking and feeling embarrassing thoughts like what was I doing? I knew better, I just was so hopeful. I felt stupid, embarrassed, and mostly rejected. We had been together nearly for 12 hours non-stop, I was just so confused.

He started yawning and we went inside where a group of my friends were laying on the floor with the afterparty. Sweater Guy was standing at the railing yawning every few seconds, and I went up to ask him if he was tired. He said he was super tired, and I suggested maybe he should go to bed. He agreed and we went down to the 2nd floor. Why I followed him, I can not really understand, because I was basically walking to the depths of doom. But we passed some harassing Swedish guys and got to the 2nd floor deck where his cabin was. We got to his door, and we both leaned on it staring at each other.

I asked him if he had a good time, and it was at this moment that I realised I had been on a date for the last 12 hours. If it looks like a date, quacks like a date, it’s a date. I was in denial because we never called it a date, but that’s what it was. My attention was tunnel visioned on him and as the night progressed I got more and more attached. He told me he had an amazingly fun time and thanked me for being with him. He hugged me, I was stunned. He said “We should meet up tomorrow” and I laughed at him. Lack of self esteem enter stage left. I said, “Yeah right, it’s nice of you to offer but I’ve heard that before.” He smiled and persisted, then asked me for my number.

I was stunned. An attractive guy was asking me for my number, and even though he said he wasn’t into guys, he was asking for my number. I jumped at it. I grabbed my phone, which had been dead for 8 hours (duh) and then he grabbed his. I entered my details into his phone, then sent a sms from his phone to mine with my Facebook details. He said “Awesome” and hugged me again. I stood there, looking at him and the awkward feeling of something unspoken filled the air. Everything in my existence was holding me back from jumping at him and kissing him. My mind was screaming, “All I want to do is cuddle with you” and I could feel the flow of energy.

His aura suddenly changed from blue to green almost instantly, and I panicked. It was at this point I know I couldn’t say it. He hugged me again. I was psychically begging him to invite me in. He didn’t, and so I did the only respectable thing I could; I told him “I need to tell you that I think you’re awesome and I really like you. I don’t get the opportunity to meet people and form connections like this, so I just want to thank you so much for the time we’ve had. I need you to know that I’ve had no intentions of untoward behaviour or malice, I just really like you.” He hugged me, and as I was moving away from the hug I felt a tear in my eye start to form, and I wished him a good night and sweet dreams. In retrospect I realised that I made the right decision not pushing any harder than I did; I mean he said he wasn’t into guys even though his actions said otherwise so if I did try something it would just make me a douchebag, no? I walked down the hallway, and turned around twice to see him go into the room and close the door. I said out loud, “What the fuck are you doing?”

I went back up to the 12th floor where my friends were still waiting, and I sat down next to Christopher. He asked me how I was, and I just broke down. I started to cry and explained to him how I was feeling. How I felt so helpless and embarrassed, and rejected. He comforted me, and didn’t understand how that could have happened, he was convinced that Sweater Guy was into me. Christopher was perplexed because as I cried I was trying to counteract the negative as much as possible and the bodily reaction was smiling. So I was smile-crying. I was feeling so pitiful.

Eventually some douchebag guys came to hit on our friend, and then I figured it was time to go to bed. I stumbled down the stairs, climbed into my bunk and fell asleep, feeling pathetic for myself. I barely slept, and woke up at 10:00 having slept at 05:00 or so (to the best of my recollection). I checked my phone, and realised that when I sent the sms from Sweater Guy‘s phone he was on Airplane mode, so the message probably sat in his outbox and won’t send. I never got it, so I was right.

Eventually I woke up with my cabin mate and I took a shower. I got cleaned up and felt like death. We ventured out into the world and met up with Chris. I asked him if he was hungry, he said yes but we agreed that food would result in immediate throwing up so we elected to find a place to sit down and chill. We did, and small talk about Mothers Day ensued. I took out my wet hair and tried to take apart the mess of a hair that remained on my elastic, and just as I was about to think pitifully of myself, guess who showed up: Sweater Guy. He sat down and we small chatted for awhile.

Christopher left to go shopping and left us alone. I felt so awkward, I felt so pathetic, I felt so humiliated. I continued conversation and eventually he said he was going to shop and he left. I returned to my cabin and struggled, eventually was sick, and then disembarked to meet my bus. I never saw him again.

The Aftermath

My initial message never sent, and a few days later I go his phone number from a friend who got it for me. She said he wanted me to have it, so she gladly passed it on. I sent him a message on Whatsapp and he read it, and didn’t reply. In the week that followed, I chatted to people to get a grasp on what happened, and toiled in my own misery and confusion, and continued to obsess over him. It’s at this point that I reveal that Sweater Guy, aka Alaska, is actually named Tyler. I left this to the end, since at this point whatever was going on, no longer is, so I figure it’s safe.

I spent some time on the internet doing some sleuthing, and I discovered his full name, origins, social media accounts, and the most important key piece of information that might explain why things panned out the way they did: he married in 2013, and his wife is gorgeous. I’m not at all surprised, but I continue to be conflicted. I feel like I need explanations and closure, but won’t ever get it. Thus the following questions remain:

  • Why would someone self professed at not being interested in men, follow a man around all night and flirt with him?
  • Why would someone who was married not wear a ring, or say something about the spouse when asked about interest?
  • Why would someone ask for my phone number if they weren’t interested in me, and then never reply to messages?

In a feeble attempt at finding answers, I drew some tarot cards (it’s been awhile) and I started to cry:

As you can see, and if anyone wants to provide a different explanation, I’m fucked.

  1. The Fool * How ironic and appropriate, no?
  2. The Emperor
  3. The Hanged Man (Reversed) * No kidding, no solution
  4. Three of Wands
  5. Nine of Cups (Reversed) * It hurts
  6. Page of Swords * Struggle everywhere
  7. Knight of Swords
  8. Seven of Wands (Reversed)
  9. Nine of Pentacles (Reversed)
  10. Seven of Pentacles * Bluh

Haulin’ my ass "home"

SAS Economy Extra ClassSAS Pillows, IKEA baby!

I departed for Stockholm-Arlanda airport at approximately 6am Swedish time, for my 10am flight. I wanted to make sure that I was well within the timeframe for getting there, and with my connections and such it ended up all working okay. The flight I booked was via Chicago O’Hare to Buffalo, where my mother would come to fetch me, and take me back to Toronto. The airport was lovely and we waited in the North American lounge, with all the others, and since I was in a class above the normal coach, the flight was super comfortable and went off without a hitch. I watched films and slept as much as I could, and then waited at the airport for my conenction.

Chicago O'Hare AirportChicago O'Hare Airport

Arriving at Chicago resulted in culture shock, and the clear and obvious way that Americans are somewhat interestingly attractive, but at the same time grossly obese. I can see why though. They are allowed to buy so much for so little amount of money, and take all of their stuff on the plane, so more or less all the time they are pigging out. I noticed this while waiting at the stressful United Express concourse, for my flight. Nothing but paniced attendants, and people going to random little places in the North-East. I took some photos, was on my way while sharing a seating with a morbidly obese man in the first row. I wanted to shoot myself in the face, especially reflecting over the “standby” concepts that the Americans travel with, and see a connection with hijacking of planes, and allowing people without tickets through security.

Buffalo - Niagra Falls BorderBuffalo - Niagra Falls Border

Once I arrived in Buffalo, my mother was lost and since she neglects to have a mobile phone she couldn’t be contacted and it took her 1 hour to find me in a small airport. We got in the car and with the help of GPS made it back to the border where we waited at least 2 hours to get across the border. Truly horrible. The photos reflect this difference in time, and how horrible it is to just sit around and have nothing to do or say, while trying to get back home. We arrived home at 00.30, and I had to be up for 6am the next morning for my first day of work; how lovely.

Carnies in Finland? omg!

Oulu pathsOulu's Carnival

It exists, I swear it. There are carnies that live and work in Finland, and not only are they Finnish but they seem to attract gypsies gallore! Who knew that only in Scandinavia, gypsies actually wear their special outfits and walk around, and are not hidden like in the rest of Europe. In any case, my friend started work again and since I left a few days later I had to spend the day by myself exploring. I did so by walking from Koskela to downtown Oulu via the the endless amounts of walking/bike paths in the region. In between this time and walking around some more in Stockmans, we went on the way back, talking of limits of ourselves, and stretching the thoughts into a carnival, where they even had rickity roller coasters that dared themselves by staying on the tracks. It really was a surprise, but I had a good laugh. This was followed by laying at the port, eating candies, and chatting more about us.

Oulu Airport

The last few nights together was not only trying with time, but also emotionally. It turned out that my friend and I bonded dramatically and we got terribily used to each other’s company. Nights were filled with tears, and awkward silences, and starvation, but we managed to have a good time by geeking and l33t1ng ourselves out talking about my new mobile phone, and other misc. topics such as Eurovision and Melodifestivalen. As snuggle time passed I began to become sad about packing all of my things away. I agreed to leave some of my things in Oulu so that I have firm reasons to come back and get them, as well as because I seemend to not be able to get my stuff back into the same spots. Truly tragic. The next morning I spent puttering around and making my way up to the factory univeristy to meet to take me to the airport. I left him a nice card at his flat, that made him cry shortly thereafter, and we arrived at the airport two hours ahead of schedule. I actually read the ticket wrong, but it’s better to be early than late! I chilled there for a few hours and then made my way to Helsinki, called, and then onto Stockholm on the smallest plane known to mankind with limited space and obviously all business people coming back from one capitol to another!

I arrived back into a super-hot Sweden, and made my way back ot Arash’s place, which he clearly wasn’t at. There was clear awkward atmosphere with him and his inability to keep himself under control but this was remedied with badminton, Couchsurfing meetings, and hanging out with Carolina!

Sweden; the great frontier

Well I’ve departed Caen for good, and after nearly two weeks of packing all of my stuff into suitcases, throwing a bunch of it out, and giving a bunch of it to needy people I’ve managed to put my life into one oversized suitcase, and a tennis bag. It’s all heavy as fuck and since I’ve decided to come to Sweden for a few weeks before going back to Canada, I had to bring everything with me. My flight leaves for Buffalo on May 31st and well it will be a sad moment of course!

In any case, since Caen is a pain in the ass to get from for flights going out of Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris I left the night before to visit Marie before leaving la France again. I got there, no problems but of course it was a bitch with my internet services, and the metro was rush hour so I wanted to shoot myself in the face. The night was okay and we talked a lot and watched Desperate Housewives before I left at 7:15 the next morning, during rush hour again. The metro was packed and with my luggage it was a pain.

Aéroport Charles de GaulleAéroport Charles de Gaulle

I made it to Opéra to take the RossiyBus to the airport, and I got nervouse becasue it was taking a lot longer than I thought and I was sort of late. Upon paniced arrival at the airport it was all okay since all flights were delayed due to fog, go me! I checked my luggage and it turned out to be 24kg (only 4kg over w00t!) and then got something to eat and talked with this half-French, half-Swedish family. The woman came from Upper Normandy and was really impressed with the fact that I spoke French so well (and quickly). Ha! I bid them adieu and went to my gate where they seemed to not speak French at all (funny that). The delays created the absoute worst situation ever. All these gates with flights going to Stockholm, Oslo, Copenhagen, Talinn, Helsinki all with delays and thus there were no seats left. There were people piled on the floors and on the windows; it was creepy. I grabbed a paper and chilled for awhile. The flight was long but lovely considering the lovely staff at SAS, who’s names were Marie, Bengt Holm, and unknown older woman. They were flirty and their outfits were far too tight. I’ve decided to grow my hair out to be like Bengt’s, as it was lovely.

Arlanda AirportArlanda Airport, Peter Jöback

I arrived at Arlanda and immediately felt like home, and the signs welcome us. Welcome to Stockholm, welcome home! The airport was empty except for our Boeign 747 flight, and as you can see nobody is around, and nothing was going on. Mr. Happy made a triumphant return, taking a photo with Peter Jöback, my teasingly apparent twin (according to Daniel). Do you see the resemblance? In any case, I took a photo and everyone else was laughing at me and were amused by my crazyness. I’m glad that the Swedes can take it so lovely, especially after a flight that featured the woman across from me having a panic attack during takeoff and landing. I’d like also to thank the people on my flight for not clapping, as obviously the pilots know what they are doing!

Arlanda AirportArlanda C

I got into the airport, got my train ticket for the Upplands Lokalträffik, Upptåget, which for those that aren’t swedophone, it’s the commuter train from Uppsala Väsby to Gävle. Itw as comfy and modern, but the terminal for waiting was quite cold! I got into Uppsala with my luggage and made it to meet Arash and take my luggage to his nation, which is basically a student organisation like fraternaties but are completly informal and fun! Turns out that I’m awesome and know so many people that nobody cares cause I’m awesome! So I’m back in the dorms, and into a really nice flat which is a bit cramped. I met Henrik, the flatmate, and the others that were around, and since I arrived on a Thursday it’s the waffle and soup day, so I helped serve that and brushed up on my Swedish, which had gone unused for awhile.