stranded in venice. is it very wrong that i get a kick out of trying to solve things when everything goes fish-shaped?

ok i have to go now. but i have this much to say:

i've never seen her happier.

is this what love does?
Posted at 3:31 AM

because i only have 30 minutes of internet time before they start charging me exorbitant amounts of euros for usage, iàll try to keep it short:

had the WORST night of my life, EVER, BAR NONE, trying to leave uppsala. nothing came close, not even when i had to drag a drunken SOMEBODY home or when i stormed away from anyone half in tears from anger and disappointment etc etc etc or when i strode out of ministry of sound swagging in heels but heart swinging low, low, low. this was how bad it was: by the tail-end of that night-- tuesday december the 15th-- i was pretty much bent over double in agony on a platform in stockholmàs central station sobbing-- oh face it, making weird animal noises-- in pain and frustration and anger and desperation. really, nothing went right that night... and then everything did.

i cannot even begin to describe it, statistics might help. my legs are covered with bruises as are my arms-- for an idea of how bad it is you will have to wait for the pictures, but take my word for it-- theyàre spectacular. i also made 82 missed calls ("you gave me EIGHTY TWO missed calls iòve never gotten that many missed calls before in my life no matter HOW many girls iòve dumped!"), missed a train, was accosted by a drunken swede who breathed alcoholic breath all over my face and tried to convince me to go off with him to have fun since we only live a hundred years (my thoughts on "a hundred years" thrown back at me, eh) and faced the prospect of spending a night out in below-zero snowed-in stockholm.

but everything turned out right eventually :) and i have to thank so many people for it, from the pressbyran lady to life-saver Inese to "thereàs just one small problem... your luggage is fucking HEAVY" Mark to Amy and DC who helped carry my luggage eventually. And now I have to go, but not before apologising for the lack of apostrophes since I canàt find it ion this Italian keyboard.

Missing Sweden much, much, much!
Posted at 6:20 AM

because i only have 30 minutes of internet time before they start charging me exorbitant amounts of euros for usage, iàll try to keep it short:

had the WORST night of my life, EVER, BAR NONE, trying to leave uppsala. nothing came close, not even when i had to drag a drunken SOMEBODY home or when i stormed away from anyone half in tears from anger and disappointment etc etc etc or when i strode out of ministry of sound swagging in heels but heart swinging low, low, low. this was how bad it was: by the tail-end of that night-- tuesday december the 15th-- i was pretty much bent over double in agony on a platform in stockholmàs central station sobbing-- oh face it, making weird animal noises-- in pain and frustration and anger and desperation. really, nothing went right that night... and then everything did.

i cannot even begin to describe it, statistics might help. my legs are covered with bruises as are my arms-- for an idea of how bad it is you will have to wait for the pictures, but take my word for it-- theyàre spectacular. i also made 82 missed calls ("you gave me EIGHTY TWO missed calls iòve never gotten that many missed calls before in my life no matter HOW many girls iòve dumped!"), missed a train, was accosted by a drunken swede who breathed alcoholic breath all over my face and tried to convince me to go off with him to have fun since we only live a hundred years (my thoughts on "a hundred years" thrown back at me, eh) and faced the prospect of spending a night out in below-zero snowed-in stockholm.

but everything turned out right eventually :) and i have to thank so many people for it, from the pressbyran lady to life-saver Inese to "thereàs just one small problem... your luggage is fucking HEAVY" Mark to Amy and DC who helped carry my luggage eventually. And now I have to go, but not before apologising for the lack of apostrophes since I canàt find it ion this Italian keyboard.

Missing Sweden much, much, much!
Posted at 6:20 AM

there are no words left to speak, because what's to speak? just beauty and muffled pandemonium.




you did greet my eyes in white, after all.

hej da uppsala!
Posted at 1:09 AM

more than you could ever know
make my wish come true
all i want for christmas is you

this is what i love about sweden-- no, just about today:

my corridor mate calls to tell me she has forgotten her keycard again. I go out to let her in; she apologises and then stops, aghast, as i exclaim and run out in a tee shirt and fbts with completely wet hair (i came out of the shower 10 seconds before she called, my towel was still around my neck). Big fat impossible large flakes of snow :) but it all melted while I was stuck at some completely abysmal dance performance i was trying not to gag.

typing away at my itineraries I hear voices lifted in song; typing this now my window is open to the night and the sound of christmas singing (a lot in Swedish or Latin, I can't tell-- one or two in english, though!) wafting down from an apartment above mine. it's so peaceful and the night is so lovely.

I cannot believe I'm leaving. I want to stay for another week, another month, another year. On Thursday instead of going out to Stockholm's Sofia said she needed to pack, so I took a few packets of chrysanthemum tea over for her bad throat and we just sat and talked and listened to Spanish music including one that said something like "cuypere moyere (???)" which translates to "I will/want to/am going to eat you", whereupon I tried to explain the innuendo that would constitute in English. She grinned and said actually in Spanish the same innuendo applies. She made me promise to go out to the London clubs with my sister (mich poon this means you since you're the only other person of legal age), gave me a thank-you present (Swedish heart and Kitkat!) and then we tried to put her into her humongous luggage case. I weighed myself on her weighing scale and discovered rather sheepishly that I've put on 4kg since leaving Singapore (most of which has manifested around my face and tummy argh failll). After that as she packed, we discussed the merits of Chanel versus Clinique, kissing Swedish boys, dogs (she has this LOVELY glossy boxer), crazy curly hair, friendly Londoners versus friendly drunk Swedes, how to say "cumpleanos" (khoon-pli-an-nose as far as i could tell) and trying to stay in touch. I am going to miss her. I am missing her already.

Friday we went to Klara's place for a little get-together. But now the music has stopped and I no longer feel like recounting my days in this sterile space; instead I will sit and watch the night for a little while before heading back to planning italy. Good luck for all involved in O school recital-- I really wish I could be there watching!-- and oh my god save me for tomorrow :\

Happy Lucia, all, och God helg!
Posted at 8:07 AM

RLH-ed
hates post-drowsiness slump
nobody but nobody can resist swedish girls
dj repeated songs six times
who the hell plays halo in a club
spanish fire ftw
cannot find her makeup remover. fail phail fail.


slowly saying my goodbyes.
Posted at 10:03 AM

"and von! stop playing icy roads over there. no coins to collect! play on fb lah."


i love my friends :D:D:D
Posted at 5:53 PM

skipped my last lyrical jazz class today to write my goddamn essay which is a protean mess that i don't want to think about. was so stressed that i literally felt zits popping out all over my face :( just when my complexion was finally heading for the clear. stupid goddamn essay with no goddamn sense.

headed for DC rehearsal only justttt in time. i hate the way i look in the mirror, no strength no purpose no direction. Sabina is a joy; every time I lose focus it happens to be at the point when they're supposed to switch and stare at us and she always looks so into the game that I get back on track. and my whole eat-more-iron nonsense is paying off i didn't black out at all this week. aye.

went off to bake pepparkarkor and lussekatter, courtesy of V-Dala and Smalands. hot mulled wine is insanely good, i am hankering after it again. Sofia said she could eat a cow and Marti said she could eat a horse so we headed to V-Dala nation for a lateish dinner while waiting for our lussekatter to bake. Sofia's soy hamburger tasted really delicious, i'm definitely ordering it the next time; she loved my veg lasagna and Marti polished off her meat version too. Xio delivered our lussekatter after Behnaz called to say they were ready. Oddly delicious though usually I can't abide saffron/almond mixtures.

Spent the night talking to people whose names I can't remember. One of them-- a Belgian girl-- is apparently dancing in the Sunday concert as well. A Spanish boy warned me that "caliente" is a dangerous word.


resolution: do something crazy every single day i've got left.
today's: kissed two girls. HA. cheek kisses, please, but ehhh we've all got to start small on the path to craziness. I just know I'm going to show up in Rome wild-eyed and hungover with exhaustion.

weather forecast still says snow for tomorrow. YES.

i want to run. i want to dance. i miss singapore. i miss my usual 2 rounds around my neighbourhood. i've had only 2 hours of sleep. i'm going to bed early tonight. sweet dreams my cold, wet Sweden. may you meet my eyes in white.
Posted at 5:42 AM

i have an(OTHER) essay to write (by TONIGHT, because i have 2 classes and a baking session tomorrow :S:S:S:S:S:S:S) so I'll keep this short:

moment of the night: getting ready to perform in 30 seconds flat.
we're all standing around grumbling about having to wait another 40 minutes before performance because things got delayed or something. I'm peering at the mirror trying to spray my hair, still wearing a sweater and jeans.

klara runs up and says "okay they've changed things around... so we're going to perform NOW."

speediest quick-change ever. plus i think the only time i've gone for a performance with still-damp-hair -.-

cringeworthy scene of the night: audience started clapping and the music people cut off the last bit of the song. Klara and then Sanna both got up in turn to start the music again. but aiyah nvm laaaaa.

blonde moment of the night: when i sprayed hairspray allll over the cut on my hand. i've got a stiff wound now. epic fail.

quote of the night: (as i was backcombing Inese's hair) "That looks like how my hair looked the night my boyfriend came back."-- Louise [TOO MUCH INFORMATION omg]

sweetest moment: 1st performance overseas and away from Blast-- I can't even tell you how much of a pang it was, feeling odd moments of similarity and seeing these faces, which have grown familiar to me, but which are not the familiar faces I remember. I wasn't really consciously thinking it, but you know there are some performance traditions-- like giving flowers etc? And like my parents always got me flowers, and we'd give each other little gifts as well?

Guess what. Being in Sweden I'd obviously not expected anything, but Klara got us all roses. I couldn't speak for a moment, because this girl-- she's got a heart of gold. Pure, solid, beautiful gold. If ever I've flared up at anyone here-- okay, make that ONE person-- it was as much on account of how much she bullied Klara as because she irritated me to no end.

klockan fyra pa morgon moment: When I realised this was the last time I'd see Sanna; that we'd have no more practices; that it-- everything-- is all coming to an end. I ache, I ache, I ache.

it was a small performance, in no way as intensive as even the slackest of a blast effort, and it wasn't like the choreo was super difficult (if anything, maybe completely to the contrary). but-- it WAS a performance, and it WAS an experience, still. and i hadn't fully realised it until today, but BW has really shaped a large part of my Swedish experience. There are so many things I'm missing already, so many things I'm going to miss only because I haven't realised yet that they're gone... like trying to conduct warmups in Swedish and having everyone stare at me in shock and burst out laughing because I'd said harga instead of herga. That actually isn't completely wrong if you subscribe to the notion that "the bitch is always right".

but no more. and last lyrical jazz class tomorrow as well since I'm going to miss the one on Lucia for the DC performance.

some things you don't miss until it's too late

Time to say our goodbyes, girls. Say goodnight and go.


(and of course, do my @^$#@# essay)
Posted at 5:36 AM

seriously :( i feel like i've squandered my life. she's just TWENTY-ONE.

but how cool is it to teach with your brother??
Posted at 9:00 AM

(play this and read! :):))


ran back after practice today as Inese leapt and skidded over every ice patch she could find on the road. the night was cold but we were warm from the studio; later i pulled off my cap and let the night air bluster into my hair-still-damp-with-sweat as we laughed far too loudly on almost-empty streets under cover of a crisp cool clear night with nary a cloud in sight. stars speckled a night sky that for once reflected but poorly the scene so much closer under our feet: everywhere we looked swampy grass patches had been replaced by feathered silver. I stopped at a bench on the ekonomikum and exclaimed, "diamonds! diamonds, but diamonds!" at the layer of ice crystals that covered it. Inese swooped upon them and said "Ah, I'll give you--!", swept them up and deposited them into my cupped, gloved hands. I threw handful upon handful into lamplight and spun laughing as they fell on my face and in my hair, cascading like snapped chandeliers. She asked me if I wanted a diamond ring or a diamond necklace; I answered, "I want this. Fields upon fields of diamonds in the dust."

We were met with bemused glances by everyone we passed; people probably thought we were drunk. And we were, or I was-- punch-drunk with the love of winter and frost and -6degC temperatures that set my heart racing. Two Swedish-looking guys actually smirked at us-- okay, probably at me. Even Inese couldn't help but laugh as I marvelled over how every twigged branch of the bushes outside our blocks, denuded of all but white globular berries, glistened diamond-studded in the glow of streetlights casting a warmth we could not feel.

I didn't care, I do not care, tonight I had the wealth of all King Solomon's mines at my feet and in my hands. We are young, we are free, you can run away with me.


it's cold, cold enough that Klara and Inese couldn't unlock their bikes because the locks were completely crusted over. And in the 2 hours we were in the studio even Behnaz's bike lock turned into a stubborn wedge of ice. But I'm happy.

And now I have to do my readings. but i have a lovely playlist to do it to (I'm obsessed, it has McLachlan's Wintersong, Bareilles' Winter Song, and all the Enya winter songs I can find), caramelised onions if I get peckish and books (all titled Angel, Angels or something to do with Winter. Don't ask me why, it just happened that way) to read if I get bored.

my voice a beacon in the night
my words will be your light
to carry you to me
Posted at 6:42 AM

I've had the perfect break-up night-- comfort food, hiding under the covers, music in my mind and a heftily good book. All that was missing was the break-up, but I can now rest easy in the comfort that I'd probably be the poster girl for breakups when they rear their monstrous heads in my life.

Of course now that I actually write it down I realise I could just call it a lovely night in, but where's the fun/drama/excitement in that. :) but ah there's something to be said for vanilla nights.

I wrote Adam an email and told him that I've got only 2 weeks left in Uppsala and as such will be busy tying up loose ends and not going for any more sessions. I'm sure that if I'd stuck at it at least I'd have met the other Russian hiphop dancer and gotten to know her abit, and maybe learnt a bit more and stuff, but there had to be something wrong when I felt that going for practice was so much more of a chore and a burden than anything else. I should be enjoying my last days in Uppsala, not going for things because I feel like they're OBLIGATORY. I blame the music :\. I've never been more angsty than I have been around what they call funk, and I HATE it. The lack of a goal when it comes to these sessions is one thing, but the music was the rotten icing on the cake of horrors for an anorexic on an i-eat-only-air diet-- and the worst thing was that they were so proud of it. I know Adam was incredibly hurt and peeved when I turned on my ipod so that I could practise Carmel's choreo for the concert and revise a few old choreographies-- oh gosh I miss miss miss Singapore-- pissed enough, in fact, that he couldn't help but let it show, easy-natured as he usually is. I'm not good at reading people but even a doofus would have been able to tell.

But it's exactly like what Jinglin and Karen say-- no music no dance/ music really affects mood (i'm paraphrasing). at the last practice I was throwing a bitchfit internally because the music was SO. OFF.

I'm a complete ingrate.

But that kind of brings me to what I've wanted to talk about for ages-- I haven't had a proper post in what seems like weeks. I'm amazed by Sweden-- by Uppsala-- and I haven't stopped being amazed. They talk about Swedish reserve-- it's infamous the world over-- but what nobody talks about is how good they are as people, as basic human beings. Collen told me about a few of her housemates, how some of them shun her because they "don't like talking to Asian girls". I've had none of that, at all, even when I've been playing the nerd card incredibly earnestly (I think I took Kathryn Simmonds' Six Months a little too literally when it said "teach us not to care about fashion", and inter alia having my spectacles on is an immediate fast-track to cast-my-eyes-down-painfully-shy). People keep trying to include me even when I'm not even a bit chatty or I'm dull and uninteresting, and they keep trying to accommodate me, too.

Examples? I've got plenty. Katja goes out of her way to talk to me, and listens to whatever I've to offer in our EU labour law discussions despite the fact that I am CLUELESS about the EU (I had to google directive/regulation. Hell, I had to google European Community and European Committee). Jacqueline and Caroline are good at heart too-- and I cannot get over Caroline's work (more on that later). Maria was incredibly friendly from the beginning, although we never did have a chance to make good on that running date. Melinda has to be one of the friendliest faces I've encountered, all the way from my Swedish law class-- and match that with Steffen too, although I'm always queerly tongue-tied around him. Nicholas does all the work for our seminars (okay, Nicholas AND Katja) and has never once complained. Knowing my addiction to hiphop Klara changed her warm-up mix cds to include, somewhat incongruously amongst the Regina Spektors, Busta Rhymes so I wouldn't feel left out -- and I haven't even gotten started on how she's let me do warm up and even attempt to teach choreo.

Tjolina has been incredibly friendly although I've only met and talked to her on two or three occasions-- and she's keen on never making me feel left out, always inviting me to events and paying attention to the smallest things like making sure everyone at the club is dancing and/or has someone to dance with. Adam-- of course-- also mixed a CD of hiphop songs so I could listen to it during practice, and he's invited me countless times to his deejaying gigs even though I keep giving lameass excuses for not turning up. Helena's baked cheesecake and offered it to me only just today. Louise got me work at Stockholms'. Erica and Sabina interpret for me in Swedish dance classes. Katarina always but ALWAYS has a smile for me. Anastasia is always happy to see me.

And the BW girls-- my girls, the ones I hang out with most regularly-- how could I forget? Their sheer LOVELINESS. Two weeks ago I pulled up pancake recipes on the net and felt kind of sad because I couldn't possibly buy all the ingredients required and finish them all before I left Sweden. Two days later Marti calls and insists on inviting us over to her place, where she promptly serves us cheesecake and freshly-made potato pancakes. Yesterday she gave me a lift on her bike to ICA-- a trip she didn't really have to make but made anyway because I was going. My first bike ride in Sweden! And it was lovely, just whizzing past in the cold air and empty streets in an air thick with almost-rain. After that Inese invited me to her room for ecological green tea and candles as she draped blankets over me to make sure I was warm and we watched videos of her dance group and oohed and aahed over cute Latvian boys and not-so-nice Finnish lads and espied pictures on the Latvian version of Facebook, including pictures of her sister after Inese'd given her a makeover and also snow glorious snow in -25degC weather. Could it snow like that here, please?

In short, I am simply amazed by how good these people are. I don't know how else to put it. I've never been discriminated against because of my race, or my looks, or for not being a tall Scandinavian ice-blonde beauty. I've never been slighted because of my lack of knowledge, or because I'm not one of the crazy party-goers and hence don't fit in. People take the trouble to understand my accent (Jesper called it a "cute little British accent", which had me completely puzzled). They do things like go with me to dance classes when it's not their style, or climb over fences onto dangerous precipices to watch fireworks in 2degC on a windblown hill. They fight for me and push me to the front when I tell them that if I stand in a position at the back all our formation change issues will be solved, saying I should be there to dance, even when it means that there is no way the audience can see them.

It makes me sad, because suddenly I realise all over again how large this world is. I have slightly over 2 weeks left in Uppsala, and the likelihood of me ever seeing any one of them again? Pretty much next to zero. And that makes me sadder than I know how to say in words, except it's not sadness-- it's like a loss, a hollowness that things have to end. Things fall apart, the centre cannot hold. And typing that I pause and cannot go on for a while because I simply have this sense that time dashes between our fingers and tricks our eyes and just flashes flashes flashes by until we are left bereft.

Last Wednesday after practice I came back to my room and read MLIAs that led me to listen to Taylor Swift's "Fifteen". Then I frowned and youtubed another song instead-- a "fifteen" I could identify far better with. Can you guess which one?


...


..


.

fifteen there's still time for you
time to buy and time to lose yourself within a morning star
Five for Fighting's 100 Years. pat yourself on the back if you got it :)

And having heard that how could I resist? I walked out at 2 in the morning trying to believe that 6 years past 15 I still can find that time to squander like heedless gold upon the glimmer of a distant star.

And I found it, although my camera refused to capture it and I had to walk a distance before I could find some place dark enough that the street lamps stopped dazzling my eyes.


It's going to be so hard to say goodbye knowing that this goodbye could be-- probably is-- final. The world is bigger than we know, which makes me marvel even more at those who fall in love and give their hearts away so freely while on exchange-- a freedom I sort of envy, and a bravery I cannot even begin to match. I hope things work out for you, bella. bellisima? I still can't get it right.

But I guess I've got to do what thingsweforget says:

and don't I have a tendency to carry around emotional baggage? 君子之交淡如水-- if i don't learn to treat all this leavetaking with a grain of salt I'm going to end up hopelessly paralysed, or forever trapped in the past as Ann and i both agreed Tony was. So that's yet another thing that Sweden has taught me.

Ah, the things Sweden has taught me...!

It hasn't all been smooth-sailing, though. There are people like Ma******, K**, L*****-- the usual users and abusers, but you get them everywhere. Also... when the sun first started to disappear, I had a bit of a spell with seasonal affective depression. I'd been warned about it, but I figured that someone who loves the night as much as I do should be more than happy for a few more hours of glorious darkness.

O unhappy, mistaken child. I came back to my room every night afternoon and would start crying for no good reason. I couldn't wake up in the mornings without feeling like the bleak gray skies outside had been nailed two inches above my head. All I wanted to do was sleep and dream of sunshine and beaches. Everything was bleak. School was pointless. Dance was terrible-- oh my god, how terrible it was. I couldn't get over how fast I was deteriorating, or how I couldn't get a step, or how I didn't manage to be dancing enough. I cried after what seemed like every dance lesson, and on the days I wasn't busy weeping my eyes sore I was so devoid of the energy I usually got from each session that it was all I could do just to walk back to my room (to be honest? this started even before the sun went away. it just got worse). I'd barely manage to skype my parents and I kept every call short because as soon as they hung up-- sometimes even before-- I'd be trying discreetly to flick tears off my face.

Don't get me wrong. It wasn't that I was not happy-- I was, and am. It was just that I was sad. And I knew how stupid it was, because there was really no reason for being this sad, and I could definitely recognise and pinpoint the seasonal depression thing, but I just couldn't shake it off. after it was all over I told nette over msn one night, and she said "you never say!" but really, what was the point in saying? it's just something you know you have to get over, and telling anyone else would just make them worry and it simply doesn't help. I think this might have been one of the reasons why Viktorjia gave up and went home after 1.5years. It's not a rational thing, you can't always talk yourself out of it.

I don't know if anyone knew. I think the only person who might/possibly could have guessed was xf, hurhur.

of course, the fact that i'm talking about it now means i'm okay, so please don't worry about me. I'm really trying to live my life to the utmost and not be too bothered by the ticktocking of the clock that counts down the seconds towards the end of my Swedish stay. It's been glorious, it's been fantastic, it's been epic-- it's been everything I'd hoped for and yet nothing I'd expected. And even given my current negative dance level I think I still wouldn't have traded it for anything else (read: Stockholm). Uppsala has taught and given me so, so, so much. Things-- tiny things-- make me incredibly happy, like when the temperature dips enough that almost-not-there flakes of snow drift like minuscule confetti upon my face, or that frost forms; today coming back from the Ekonomikum I broke into a hugeeee smile because I realised the ground had frozen solid and every surface that I passed was glittering with minute sparkles. I adore the feeling of trodding on dirt paths that have hardened, although I have to watch where I go where there are deeper ruts because the water there turns to a layer of ice and it's so easy to slip and fall.

Fog still makes me a little blue, though, because-- OKAY DON'T LAUGH: cos Fong Fei Fei has this one song that goes
月朦胧鸟朦胧
萤火照夜空
山朦胧鸟朦胧
秋虫在呢哝
und so weiter. it's one of my mum and dad's favourite songs, so whenever i see fog i just think of them and I end up feeling a bit wistful because they don't get to see the beauty of this sight, which I know they'd love.
But fireworks make me very, very happy:


as does the river fyris, in summer, autumn or winter delight.

"surprises" for their respective boyfriends hahahaha XF YOU WANT???


it's beginning to look a lot like christmas


Sofia's booked a sauna for us this Friday and we'll go out to Varmlands at night. excited. :)



all good things come to an end.
some things you don't miss until it's too late
Posted at 11:49 AM