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