Fredag.

Hello. Haven't been on for a few days. Oops. Today I have reached the 2-week mark of being in Sweden. Am feeling a bit sorry for myself. This may or may not be related to the fact that I have been ill since I got here. Not debilitatingly ill, but I had a killer of a cough when I got here, then in the past 2 days, the cough has gone, to be replaced by an eternally running nose. Does one follow the other and is my body (kropp in Swedish) just getting over the assault?

Things with Anissa have been roller-coaster-y. I suppose they would be with a pregnant lady. It all reached a head on Weds, when she woke me up three times to ask for various things, and then she came in and took my travelcard. Now, I know she's not made of money, and me being me, I had lent her my travelcard on a few occasions, to help her out. But as seems to happen with me, the generosity started to be taken for granted. No longer was I offering to help, she was taking. Those of you familiar with the Lisette saga circa 2003-4 will find this story familiar.

So I talked to her about it and we sorted it out. As I said, "Two weeks ago, you didn't even know me, and though we are getting on really well, I don't like being taken a loan of. So don't do it. I won't thank you for it.'

Anyway. It's bound to be that bit more intense given the whole 'I know no-one' scenario. Breathing it in and accepting it is a good look, methinks.

The gay choir here is fun. Lots of them have talked to me, at rehearsal, in gay clubs... One guy even told me he had seen me lolling down Hornsgatan with my walkman, and thus hadn't said hello since I was in my own world.

Nothing new there then! I said next time he should say hi.

Anyway. The snow is back (after looking like it might go away) and it's all white outside. I just got asked if I could interpret in Paris next week! So I might be feeling even more impossibly international in a matter of days!

I may or may not go to Connections tonight. Based on past performance, I probably won't!
Do mail me if you've got a sec. It's nice to know what you're up to!
xx

Shirley for Queen of Sweden!

Meet balls

Hej! I just ate some meatballs. They are called kottbullar, which sounds like saying 'shit-buller' or some other trendyesque backwards slang phrase. Anissa and I just had a heated debate about whether or not all human beings had choices. I said they did. Anissa didn't. She got mega indignant and called me a 'spoilt brat'. Now I may be many things....

Anyway, I shall sit here and seethe silently instead. It wasn't so bad really.

This weekend was fun. I was supposed to go and watch the Gaykor do their dress rehearsal on Sat, but got up at 1330 hrs (rehearsal was at 1015). So instead, I went and got the shopping and then came back and drank lemon cider! (they have all sorts of super cider! and at only 2.5% alcohol there's NO DANGER OF GETTING PISSED! More's the pity!).

On Sat night, since I didn't go out to Connections on Fri, thus missing any potential nipple-tweaking, I decided to brave the sub-zero temperatures and go back to Lino where I went last Sat. I got there at about 2230. There was not a soul there! Well, about 3 souls. Things hotted up after about midnight. Paul, breathe in your jealousy - the great thing about this disco is that if a song gets a good reaction, they play it again about 10 mins later! So we had three helpings of Carola's 'Evighet', and three of Linda Bengtzing's 'Jag ljuger sa bra'. And countless renditions of Magnus Carlsson's 'Lev Livet'. Rock.

I was somewhat bemused when an older gent squeezed past me and caressed my stomach. He and his two friends totally stared me out and I was thinking 'oh dear, be this a spitroast cruise?' However, all was revealed about 10 mins later when he came up with his friends and said 'Hi Johnathon, how are you?' 'Errrrrrm.... I'm ok thanks, and you?' 'Oh, I'm fine! I hear you were talking to my boyfriend Johan...'. Me: "...?...". 'Yes, you see, I'm one of your sixty new best friends - in the gay choir!'

Oh god. So it would appear that Stockholm is indeed a small place. It turns out I had talked to his 'man' as he was wont to call him (hello Senga from Glasgow!) on Thursday night. Obviously we had connected thanks to our mutual admiration for Shirley Clamp (now if there were ever a reason to love Sweden...).

So that was quite fun. I then went to another outside bar (!!) in Lino whereupon I was befriended by a policeman from Arlanda airport. Woof! Who then said 'Oh, and this is my boyfriend'. 'Ah! HEJJJ!' Grrr.

The boyfriend was v nice, and we even chatted in Swedish! Amazing what 4 bottles of strong beer will do to you!

The clocks then went forward, after I had met yet another man from the choir, who insisted he was 'not a whore'. Ok. And then I got the last tube home to Aspudden (which I have lovingly nicknamed 'ass-pudding') and tried not to break my face/teeth on the long uphill trek home on the treacherous black ice! I then proceeded to text my ex (oh dear a bad look!) but nothing too too hectic, just saying I had dreamt about him loads, and was he ok.

Don't you hate that 'next day' feeling when you wake up a) feeling like poo and then b) remembering the stupid things you did? ie. texting ex? To be fair, ex replied with a perfectly nice text wishing me luck in Sverige. I then decided the only thing to do with a head like mine was to go for a long walk. Which I then did. I walked into town! It was bloody far away, but it was great. Do you know, I had to walk over a bridge and I looked down and the river underneath had frozen after the ice had already been broken? It was a super sight to see. I walked to Sodermalm, the southern island, got my first kanelbulle (cinnamon cake) and a Tiramisu flavoured chunky KitKat (a tad disappointing actually!) and then strode on into town, crossing the bridge to Gamla Stan, the old town. Unbelievably, someone has written 'LED ZEPPELIN - STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN' in the snow/ice on the river. Like, if you're going to spend that much time writing something, why not write something worthwhile, for ex 'SHIRLEY CLAMP FOR SVERIGES DROTTNING' or 'LINDA WAS ROBBED'??? I mean honestly!

Stockholm is so beautiful, even in the snow.

I came home via the Kungstradgard tube station. A camper station I have yet to see! Then last night, felt v tired after my hungover walk, so declined to go to Patricia, the Stockholm gay equivalent of the Tuxedo Princess in Glasgow. I stayed in and downloaded Pet Shop Boys remixes. Which in a way is just like going to Patricia!

Today I had no work, and it was bitterly cold, so I cleaned! (VAD? - the world). Then I met Anissa in town and we went to a fabulous shop called Indiska, where she bought all sorts of dresses. I took a photo. It will go up tomorrow. We then went to a fabulous gaybar (P, it's that one with the spinning chandelier and 'velvet' look) and had a nice salad. Then we faredodged our way home and here I am.

I do hope some work comes in tomorrow. I mean I paid all this dosh to be a member of the Institute of Translators and Interpreters. And I did the uber-hard exam. So I hope it bears fruit.

Oh, Anissa now knows my meaning of the word 'dolly'. She wouldn't believe I called anyone dolly until I showed her a selection of text messages. Walking around Indiska, I christened everything 'dolly'. It WAS all so dolly!

Anyway, this dolly's signing off now! Shirley Clamp for Queen of Sweden!!

A boat! Stuck in some ice! On a lake! 

Johnny, tu n'es pas un ange

Right. Back am I. I am now sitting in our sparkling (ish) kitchen. I have discovered Anissa is a bit like a Glaswegian woman - i.e. heart of gold, but will tell you that you smell. Or will make obscene jokes about the size of your hands. Hahaha! The title of today's post refers to this song that is on an LP I bought by Christer Bjorkman, Sweden's Mr. Schlager, and my future husband.

The LP, Souvenirs d'amour, is in dodgy French (jaha!) but is produced by the same guy that produces Shirley Clamp (faints), and is totally danceable and epic. 'Johnny tu n'es pas un ange' was originally by Edith Piaf (I know, I downloaded it!), and the version Christer sings is just super. Like Min Karlek but in French, if you will. With a dodgy Swede regularly interjecting 'JOHNNY - TU N'ES PAS UN ANGE!!!!!' in the background. Yay!

I think I'm just going to pop it on again as I type...

Oh of course, this being Sweden, the song contains a KEY CHANGE! We love those!

Yesterday I plucked up the courage and went along to ABF-huset, next to Olof Palmes Gata, where the Stockholms Gaykor was rehearsing at 1830. Since I have heard from the world and his rent-boy acquaintance that being late in Sweden is akin to calling the host's wife a hingoot, I was Ride On Time (tm) in a Black Box stylee. It was cack-inducing to start with, what with having to explain who I was in my best English (still not so great at the old svenska) and get blank looks a la 'why the fucque are you in Sweden?'.

Still. It was ace in the end. I got put in with the Tenor Is. They are not like the Tenor Is in the Pinkies, since they have to sing like, an octave higher, it would seem! It's so hecqueticque! But nice. We sang Swedish things, Finnish things, a Village People medley, and an Abba medley that, sorry, was nowhere near as fabulous as Abba Pink! Hurrah! Then in old choir style, we got the underground to a gay bar!

Tres strangely, it turns out the gay bar in question is one I visited with her Highness Queen Pauline of Orkney two years ago, and (get this!) it's right next to Stockholm's Scottish pub!!!!! Like, Johnny, tu n'es pas un ange ecossais! So we piled in to the gaybar, called 'Sidetrack', and then I amazed the throng (...) with my word-perfect lip-synching of many a Swedish language favourite, including Magnus Carlsson, Jessica Andersson, and other rocking Swedish thangs.

I was a bit 'flavour of the night' (though no-one tasted me) and was chatting to all, and her close friend Sundry. Swedish people are nice, and I get the impression they are for the most part intelligent, which is what I'm looking for.

No sign of the mythical Lars. But there was a very nice Nils.

Anyway, came home (just two stops!), went to bed, got up today, gave A a massage, went to bed again. Did some translating. And now A's gone to work (she's a nurse) and I did some housework (eeeeek). And now I'm going to tackle Chapter 2 of Colloquial Swedish!

Then tonight, more disco dancing in a place called 'Connections' where I have had my nipple tweaked in the past. And no, it was not pleasant.

Thank you Carol for your inspirational message yesterday btw.

Kissage xxxxx

It's snowing men!

Hello. It's all dark-ish outside since it has been snowing sporadically all afternoon! I slept for another 12-hour marathon last night. It's mad. I keep having very REAL dreams. Last night's involved my ex, and those dreams are never nice. I woke up in a birrova state, and when explaining the circus of hideousness that was my breakup 3 years ago, and how I had to leave Toulouse all on my own, and how I cried for the entire length of the journey back to Blighty, it all came back and I was in total tears again.

Bloody hell. Maybe some things just take longer to get over. Actually, I had sort of the same problem when I lived in New York for a month. I felt like I was all wrong and that it would have been great to have been able to show my ex all these great things in NYC. But a nice lady at work there pointed out 'Your ex is a bum. You just miss him because he was something familiar in an unfamiliar landscape.' I think she had a point. So that's maybe why he has been so in my thoughts over the past few days. Dunno really...

So yesterday, I decided to go for a walk while it was still light, and Anissa bumped into me en route, so we went together. We went for a wee walk (involving my first full-on fall in the snow!) and ended up at a FROZEN LAKE! So we walked for like half an hour over the frozen lake (it was SO mad!) and I got my photo taken standing on the ice beside a BOAT!... Like ON the lake! So once I figure out how to work this, I'll post it.

I am still loving Anissa. Even if she does do housework. She is next door watching 'That 70s show'. I went out to buy some more undergarments, and took 2 tunnelbana trains to go to Skanstull's 'Ringen' shopping center. I went round looking at lovely Swedish design things and thinking 'Hmmm.' Then I went for a semla (cream cake) and kaffe (coffee) at only 44 kronor. Yay. It was great. I am officially loving it.

Got train back, then went to supermarket (still a strange place!). Do u know, they sell Nescafe without the lids on, and just a foil covering??! They couldn't do that in England, some chav would take great pleasure in sticking his or her fingers through every one.

I think they asked me if I wanted a cap at the till. I had no idea, but they gave me one anyway. I bought some candles (when in Sweden...) and some PASSION FRUIT flavoured cider! And some pear flavoured cider. And some pepparkakor (ginger biscuits). I bought some cider the other day and was dismayed to discover it had NO ALCOHOL in it! VAD??

So I got some with alcohol in. And since I'm feeling generous, I got Anissa a wee box of Belgian chocolates. She is preggers, after all. And she makes a mean stew.

Right, I'm going to have some coffee and pepparkakor. mmmmmmmmmm
:o)

Oh what a beautiful Moooooooooooorning!

Wow. The sky is SO blue! I just slept for TWELVE hours! It's just like being on holiday, but in a house. I have Svenska Favoriter on, and have checked my mail. Boring but nice. Anissa came in at 9 last night and we had a chat. Then I did some computer stuff and then I went to bed. And slept and slept and slept.

So there we are. I'm thinking, if I'm still getting over a cold and my body's still knackered from the constant strain of London life, it would be only natural to be having a 'kickback' reaction. So I'm quite happy to do v little for now. It might not make for very interesting reading though! Sorry.

Anissa has made some sort of goulash thing. She is paranoid that she is fat - I'm saying 'A-doll, you're 3 months' pregnant, chill with the fat thing, ja?' She was saying her jumper yesterday made her feel frumpy. And today when I went to throw away my teabag, I found the jumper in the bin! :o( oh well, it's her jumper.

Right, today I WILL DO A CHAPTER OF COLLOQUIAL SWEDISH. Ja så du!

Then a wee walk to Lake Mälaren. And apparently IKEA is only 15 mins away! Scream!

Puss och kram

Det vackraste jag vet

Right. Back in from my afternoon vagaries. What a beautiful place. With lovely boys and lovely architecture. And biting cold! It's weird, it looks sort of different from the last time I was here, in October last year. Well, winter is not about to happen for a start. Strange thing 1 - when in the UK, I religiously refused to listen to anything non-Swedish. And now I'm here, I am sort of refusing to listen to anything Swedish. How fucque'd is that? So I had lots of fun bobbing through the streets to the sound of Jem's "They" (which is fabulous almost beyond belief) and Sandie Shaw's Girl Don't Come.

I was v efficient and got all my chore-y things done. Everyone speaks English, and so I do too.

I went to Ahlen's, this superfabulous home stuff store (Sooz it's where I got the oil decanter thing and the clock on a stick) and went to the basement, where I proceeded to let out the most distasteful bottom burps. I blame Anissa's Thai soup, lovely though it was. I thus criss-crossed the shop in an attempt to leave my bottom misdemeanors behind.

So predictably I got a smorgasbord (which means 'sandwich table'!) of Svensk choons, including the French LP by Christer Bjorkman (my future husband) on which he duets with SHIRLEY CLAMP not once but twice! Eek! They didn't have Linda Bengtzing's LP yet so I am bereft of it.

Blah blah blah. I'm going to have some tea and eat some v nice truffles I bought in the tourist trap confectionary store. There was a really hot boy in the tube home. He looked a bit like Morten Harket from Aha. Mind you, everyone looks a bit like that here! Hurrah!

Hej da! (sorry P, you Swedish grammatisk fascist!)

Stockholm here am I

Hello. Thanks to the advice of the wonderful and golden-tonsilled Ms. L'aura Parkes, I am creating a blog. Which is actually quite a good idea, since that way, I don't have to ever write e-mail ever again! But I can still be filthy in chatrooms. Not that I ever am. You know.

So here I sit in my kitchen in Stockholm. I moved here on Friday from London. I had a nasty cold all last week, and spent most of it coughing up phlegm. Apart from when I went to Bristol to meet someone lovely. I wasn't doing much coughing.

My flatm8 is called Anissa, she's 32 (same age as me), and she is from Tuzla in Bosnia originally. First surprise on arrival was that she is 3 months' preggers! And she is a Tibetan buddhist. She went to see her lama yesterday. I'm not sure about her lama. He apparently hits people if they take drugs. And other unlikely things of that ilk.

I went to Melodifestival (Swedish version of Song for Europe) on Sat. It was totally ace. My seat was so far from the stage I felt like I was in a bloody satellite. But it was great, even if Carola won. Linda was robbed!

I went out with Dale from my Swedish class in London after, to a club called Lino, where they play wall-to-wall schlager (Swedish pop). I was so hard loving it! And the best bit was getting the tube back home at 2am! I live six stops from Gamla Stan underground (tunnelbana) and Stockholm really is beautiful.

Anissa says we should go to Budapest together, since she has a friend there. It's apparently even more beautiful than Stockers. Which I find rather hard to believe.

I went to the supermarket yesterday, which was an experience. Totally mad. No idea what half the stuff I bought is. I suppose that's half the fun. I got some pate, and Anissa was saying "oh god I can't eat pork". She had a craving for pate this morning though!

Anissa rocks. For now. I am so over forming instant judgments. HAhahahahahaha

I am apparently joining the Stockholms Gaykor (gay men's chorus) on Thurs. I hope it will be good. My Swedish is pretty much rubbish, but I have a lot of time, and willingness to learn. I have set myself the goal of finishing the Colloquial Swedish book by the end of May, when I'll be going to Copenhagen to sing with the Pinkies. I WILL ROCK IN SWEDISH.

Oooh. Must dash. They're playing 'Kalla Nätter' by Jessica Andersson, my new fave tune, on Svenska Favoriter, my new fave station.

Ciao!