Flirting Flirting Flirting

I am being flirted at. Big time. But not by a gorgeous man but by this fabulous town I live in. It’s as if my whining last week and my increasing wish to move back to Stockholm, has made the London-universe shaping up to high levels and presenting new sides, convincing me to fall again!

How about his for a rather different week: Fabulous Italian wine-tasting session on Wednesday night in a gallery with English upper class eccentrics, Thursday night an improvised hen-do at the Jazz-place Ronnie Scott’s that turned out a perfect night of fantastic music, venue, wine and company, very New York style and just right up my alley. Then the weekend with three days of sailing and racing in the Solent with 60 other really nice sporty people and just so much fun.

And to top this whole thing, my lovely Goddaughter Ellinor arrived on Sunday morning and she lives in Chiswick with her fantastic parents and this improves my life here even more! And this week I am off to an 'Olympic Ball' with an old Kangaroo-friend and then holidays for a week. Synd att klaga as we say back home (a shame to complain). Synd indeedy.

London and England are really flirting with me. And I am liking it.

Aliens invading?

Have you ever experienced that a change is happening in you, but you can’t really put your finger to what it is? First time this happened and I really understood it was something going on was 7-8 years ago when I had my first panic-attacks that after a year transpired into a full flown panic syndrome. A year later I was more or less recovered and could deal with the panic, but it opened my eyes to my life and I realized I wasn’t being true to myself. It ended in divorce from what I thought was the love of my life and a couple of years later I moved to London!

I guess what I got panic about was the fact that I felt that a big and painful change was looming but I didn’t know what it was and if I did know, it scared me too much to want to think of it. I read recently a theory about that the body senses changes coming before the conscious mind does. Most likely it’s the unconsciousness signalling to the body and since the mind does not understand what this is, the body reacts with various symptoms.

I have felt a change coming since the beginning of the year, although this time I thankfully haven’t had any dramatic symptoms. And I have no idea what is coming; is it a change in attitude, lifestyle, marital status (she says, optimistically!), a move or even just a new job (that I need from next year anyway)?

Incidentally, I met a Swedish guy earlier this summer who is planning to move back from London to Sweden, and when we spoke about it I couldn’t understand his rationale for moving back. But I guess his arguments lingered and started to grow and establish in my mind. And now really weird things are happening! I find that my mouth is talking to people about that I look for jobs in Stockholm and my fingers is tapping the lap-top for property pages in Sweden to look for flats, but it feels like it’s happening autonomous from my brain!! Like aliens taking over!

Spooky!

Cool Britannia

My UK-mojo is slowly getting back. It had a severe dip in July but is picking up now. I think it’s mainly because I want to be in the green countryside in the summer, not sit next to a highway in the smoking fumes. I look forward to autumn. It’s the best in London me thinks. Crisp sunny autumn mornings walking to work in edgy boots, fitted jackets and eccentric gloves. It’s just such a handsome season. I think I might even get me a nice beret. Perhaps even a raspberry one. It would match my blonde French haircut (had i cut short for your knowledge, not too short, a longer bob) and make my blue eyes sparkle and be more piercing when eyeing the handsome men in their autumn outfits in earth-grey colours, looking understated but elegant. Lovely. Autumn, even the word is sensual.

Went out last night with my friend who is very young and very cool in the kind of way those born in the 80-ties are. We went to Punk in Soho which is well known for attracting a very hip crowd including the Geldof-girls and ms Moss etc. I felt like a reporter investigating the newest street-trends in London, for I bet you -- they were all there. Young, hip, beautiful, cool, and fantastically creatively and beautifully dressed. It just felt new, cool and fresh. It was like I had found the new Cool Britannia, like the punks, the mods, the teddies or whatever cool have come out of this eccentric and expressive people during the years. Think punk mixed with laced Victorian spiced up with Human League: really stylish and just spot on!

Easily amused?

Possibly, but this made me laugh!

Swedes are not well known for being overly jokingly. Not in the English sort of always-be-joking wittiness way at any rate. So I almost fell off my chair today though when I got a confirmation email back from a table-reservation for the restaurant Zink Grill in Stockholm. For those of you who are not acquainted to Stockholm, it can be extremely pretentious and stiff and people in top-notch restaurants sometimes think very highly of themselves, especially in this part of Stockholm. Anyway, the conformation email was overly correctly formal and non-humoristic and then at the end they write....
.
Zink You
.

Hilarious.

Clearly it's what Kitlizette refers to as Gubb-humor (old man’s sense of humour) at it’s best.

I don’t belong anywhere

That’s how I am feeling right now. I think all is wrong. The English life (and people) is either too snobbish, too pretentious, too blingy, too rough, too un-classy, too chavy, too scrubby, too druggy, too nerdy, too geeky, too sporty, too unequal, too oldfashioned,to unhealthy too too too anything right now.

Having concluded this and been secretly irritated and spitting at everything English lately, I realized: I need to move back to Sweden, my peoples, my home, my life. Then quickly read dn.se (daily newspaper) and got back to reality again: all is too Jante (everyone has to be equal), too clustered, too wholesome, too boring, too too too too again.

So, where shall I live? With whom? Is anyone good enough for me? Anything? Can we please all create a place in the world where EVERYONE IS JUST LIKE ME please?!
Thanks in advance.

By the way: I like the cutie on top a lot, I feel a bit like him and think I should adopt him. Now.

Cultural Clashes in the North

Undertook some healthy analysis of the foreign territories this weekend. I was in Finland to visit the lovely Helsinki and to hang out with my mate Ms Prada and her entourage. I used to work in the Finnish capital some 6-7 years ago and the reunification was pure joy. The Finns are just gorgeous: frank, honest, straightforward, innocent and non-cynical. Coming across as a somewhat harsh and silent people, they wouldn’t make a fuss to make you feel comfortable or relaxed, but once they’ve concluded that you’re ok, they relax and become friendly, close and almost open, although keeping on to their slightly suspicious stand-point. I love it.

I made a quick analysis of the differences in men too, comparing the way Swedish, English and Finnish men approach women. The English are polite and “gentleman-ish”, moving slowly towards the female and perhaps buying a drink and possibly also asking for a number to which he will text and possible call a few times before eventually daring to ask for a date but even then cynically thinking that “she only answers to be polite, so it doesn’t mean anything anyways”. They move around in circles of slight flakiness and unnecessary politeness (mainly to hide insecurity)...

The handsome, but oh so vain, Swedes don’t do much at all. They mostly just stand and look at you with a slightly patronizing look as if to say “your hair colour is not as good as mine” and “you should come up to me instead and buy ME a drink” which is also just a cover up for their shyness and the not knowing how to act or react or interact with the females.

The Finns however, are nothing of the kind. They might appear shy to start with, but that is just a misleading image. During my 3-day-stay I had one man telling me he loved me, another one very obviously approaching me during a train-ride while his 8-year-son was sitting next to him, he even put his hand on my waist when we were getting off! A third one telling me that “we had a great connection but unfortunaly he already had a girlfriend” after we had only been joking and dancing for a while, but, as far as I was concerned, had no flirting business going.

How curious! I think it’s perhaps my somewhat gregarious and talkative personality (cleary adapted after living in London for four years) that clashes with the Finns? Whereas I only find myself politely talking and being generally friendly, they interpret it as if I am chatting them up!

BACK TO BLOGGING WITH CULTURAL CLASHES

Back to the blogging again. Sorry about this very long lapse of non-writing. Believe it or not, I have been working! Anyway. What has happened since last time? Well, basically, the biggest news is that the German-Swedish relations has broken down and he is out of ze picture. All good though, but I need to change that bloody profile picture with Bavarian bar-maid of course!

Am also going through a little process of, again, questioning why and how I live in this country. Sometimes I just feel so DIFFERENT. I have this thing now that I really want to meet a Swedish man! I really really want to meet someone who can understand how I think, where I come from and my values and ideas. I got really worked up last Sunday when I read in the Sunday times about the fact that girls are "lezzing it up", i.e. starting to dress more like lesbians, as if it was some sort of trend. WHAT? They are referring to gorgeous, very cool and very sexy Angyess Deyn and say that:

The key is, quite simply, not dressing to impress men. There is a simplicity and a fearlessness to the new lesbian chic that makes it extremely powerful: it takes away the frills and the flounce without any “butching up”. Ladies don’t need to feel unsexy or silly for embracing a tomboyish spirit. Looking like a lesbian is no longer a put-down, it’s a compliment.

(article in full: http://women.timesonline.co.uk/tol/life_and_style/women/fashion/article4343457.ece)

And I just don't get it. What is lesbian about Deyn? Not that I have ANYTHING AT ALL against lesbians, but I don't want to be called a lezze just because I would have short hair and perhaps a bit more of a tom-boy look. Where I come from, this kind of look has always been a lot more natural and sexy in its own way. I met a lovely Swedish man on Saturday when I went out in perhaps more of a "tomboyish outfit" (with striped sailor t-shirt, white naval shorts and bright yellow flat patent loafers) than the normal "pushed up-curly hair-high heels spectacle" that you see in this country. I can tell you I didn't get much attention from the English men but the two (very HOT) Swedes were worshipping my outfit and my style and thought i was WAY sexy.

I guess it's Pippi Longstocking that is to "blame" for this. I grew up thinking that girls should be like her: strong, independent and funny. I don't think that has anything to do with sexual preferences...

Conclusion from this week's finding is that I will find myself a beautiful Swedish man who understands this and don't think he is into some perverted Lesbian act just because he happens to like sporty girls with long legs, small chests and cool outfits!

Sweet and Sour Experiences

This week I have enjoyed the evilness of force feeding my fellow colleagues with Salted Licorice ("Djungelvral"). Oh God, what pure entertainment to see the faces of the poor English sweet-tooths when they got the ammoniac chloride (it's a type of salt, often used in North Europe candies) on their Cadbury-tongues. Heheh. Interestingly, bringing Mr Germany to Stockholm for the weekend proved a lot of similarities that I didn't think of. For example, he loves pickled herring and knackebrod and all other strange fish-dishes we serve up there. And he passed the Ammoniac test too. Hehhe. Germany -- England 1-0.

Ordnung musst sein?

"If this is now the most expensive area in Europe more or less, could they not try and clean it up a bit??". Walking through the bohemian and beautiful Notting Hill in the February sunshine with Mr Germany, I realized the differences in views from Germans and English people. The English love and cherish the scrubbyness, the originality, the relaxed and the soulful. Quite often Germany is regarded as polished and boring. I think I can see the benefits of both sides, I love the relaxness of the English but can feel I miss the organized societies that Sweden also is.

Very pleased that I can mix both worlds. Freelancing as always.

Is Europe my oyster. Really?

Somedays I wake up thinking I am on top really. Previously this would mean that ANYthing is possible. Should I fall in love with a bush-man from Africa, I would sure as hell more there. Most likely, the possibility-thinking involved falling in love with Australians. "I will love it down there, no problem at all. "

This "window of opportunity" has shrunk some and these days (mainly after my NYE trip to Aus when I realized how insanely far away it is) I happily shout out "as long as I live in Europe, I am happy. Europe is my OYSTER". "As long as all flights are only 2-3 hours, it will all be easy."

But some days I wake up thinking that wouldn't it actually be nice to live home in the Motherplanet, with closeness to family and old friends? To not having to always be the outsider and the different one, to be able to joke about children-programmes from the 70-ties and old hits from Svensktoppen. Or at least stay in this acquired new home-land where I am anyway a little bit integrated already instead of mixing in any new nationalities (for instance a German date).

I really don't like those days. I like it when I am full of energy and everything is fun and easy and uncomplicated. I think I will stick to that. Being lazy or a coward never took anyone further in life.

Europe IS my oyster.

Hidden Humourist?

Perhaps it's not so much about Hidden Agenda. It's most likely more about hidden signals. I don't know how to otherwise describe that I constantly feel that I am entertaining my colleagues? To start with I think they just felt I was a plain whacko, but now they laugh openly. And it feels a bit weird since I am not sure really what is so enormously entertaining but I join in their laughter, just to show I am actually not completely nerdy. Which is probably only proving the contrary. I think it's what I say, how and express and my pronounciation of things.

Easy being a comedian these days.

Fanastically Friendly or Sarcastically Superficial?

You tell me. After nearly 4 years in this country, I must say I have hardly met any other place where people do take pride in such as simple and sweet trait as being... friendly as here in the UK. I spoke to my lovely Colleague (English) about this the other day. She looked at me with obvious scepsism and probably wondered what expectations Swedes have on the world if they think London is friendly. And perhaps she is right, perhaps it's because the great North is a bit more shall we say harsher that I just love it when people say hi to eachother in the street, when doors are held for other people, when seats are given up in the tube for eachother and that people actually communicate and smile to eachother. I also love it that the TFL (transport for London) even has a campaign "Together For London" out now with cute cartoons instructing their customers/passengers how to behave. Gorgeous. I the Stockholm underground you are happy if someone says "sorry" for standing on you.

But back to my colleague again. She lives what we would perhaps call an "unconventional" life, in many aspects and she says she would never ever live in the countryside of England. She means that they might seem friendly, but deep down they are just covering up for their various screwed up views on all sorts of minorities.

I don't know. I doubt that will ever live in the countryside, and I must say that I love the politeness and the respect of people I find in London. And I hope it will stay this way. TFL is anyway doing theirs to encourage it.

Recommendation

After having seen Herr Reinfeldt defending his New Swedish Model (see posting below) and Mr Cameron doing his Clown-act, we all went to dinner at the fabulous Ciao Bella in Bloomsbury. All were me, Ms Media and her parents. The latter are a fantastically well-educated and knowledgeable couple who are also very friendly and social. And we discussed the lecture of course. And about the fact that the "Swedish Model" and all it stands for is just plain rubbish, more or less.

Yes, Sweden was a fantastic country in many aspects when I grew up, but it was also a very strict society with not room for any frills or encouragement for anyone who was a slight bit better, brighter or bouncier than others. Be it in school or in industry. Alla ar lika. Everyone is the same. But as we all know, perception is reality. And the lovely old motherland really managed to promote its excellence to the world and thus leaving the impression that yes, the Swedish Model is Fantastic. It wasn't all that good. But everyone in Sweden still believes that the rest of the world must think that our country is the BEST and most BEAUTFUL without any possible comparison.

Not entirely true.

My recommendation is Till Herr Bachmanns Broschyr by my beloved Carl-Johan Wallgren http://www.bokrecension.se/9176435016 about a Swedish writer in exile in Germany. He is asked to write about Sweden in an information leaflet "Herr Bachmanns Broschyr". His hatred for his homecountry and its citizens is extremely humoristically and colourfully described and even if the writer is slighly mad, his views on Sweden are healthy for all to read. It gives a good distance to the glorified Swedish Model.

Health maniac?

No, I never was a health maniac! Not at all actually. But having now worked for almost 5 months in a really English environment, I realize that I might be. Most my colleages are constantly hung-over, they eat crisps every day and choclates and other stuff. When I come dragging with my morning yougurt (fat) and muesli (containing sweet fruits..) they eye me upside down and whizz "ohh, we are healthy today aren't we?", as if I was on a super detox.

And now it's skiing season and they all slide over to the alps to whizz around the slopes (75% in Meribel) and come back all tanned and spirited. To not stand out as a total nerd, they of course have to ensure everyone in the office that they had boozy lunches and dinners everyday and that "it is now enough with exercising for another 51 weeks". They wouldn't want to stand out as some sort of Germanic health-freak, hell no.

I love it that they are discussing Obesity too. I work with projects for improving the lives for young people, and this is now coming up on the agenda. So there are TONS of discussion on how to sort this out for all age groups and there are talks about rebuilding cities so that the steps of stair, for instance, will be harder to walk on, and to improve possiblities to cycle to work etc. All good and nice. But perhaps start by looking into some normal values?

A really lovely colleague of mine is 24 years old. He is really cute but has the biggest belly I have ever seen on such a young boy. He is now on a "diet" (they are all on diets. all the time.) which means only eating fruit and punishing himself in the gym. I would like to do some proper North-Swedish sanity check with him: What do you eat for breakfast? Do you have a continous burn rate in your body (the body has to eat regulary to burn fat, or it will burn muscles)? How often do you walk to work? How many pints of beer do you drink per week? How many bags of crisps? I am convinced that just slight changes of nutrition and exercise would make an enormous difference. Without crazy diets and starvation periods. I might tell him. And risk being regarded as the Germanic Muesli Monster.

Happy to take the risk though.

What can I expect?

Still seeing mr Germany. Ahh sehr schön. He came to visit last weekend and it was all good and dandy. A lot of fun actually. And our speaking is improving, since he has really brushed up his English. So all good. We also met up with a bunch of friends. And as people are in London, or rather the English are, they were all very sweet and kind with him.

We spoke on the Monday night when he was back in Munich. He said he had told his friends about the weekend and said he was amazed that people were so nice to him and that he had felt as if he was welcomed as if one of the gang already.

I went through i my mind what we had done, and yes of course, my friends were really nice to him, but people are friendly normally, aren't they? I am now fearing that my prejudice thoughts are correct and that all Germans, including his friends will be awfully unfriendly and horrible to me!

We shall see we shall see.

Always-be-joking?

The differences between my motherplanet and the acquired new home was clear this week when I attended a lecture with the Swedish Prime Minister at the very esteemed London School of Economics.

Being Swedish, Correct, Serious, Bleak and Bold and, yes not entirely funny, he stood up for a good 40 minutes and told us about the New Swedish Model. One that he clearly wasn't part of building up given that he is highy right-wing and this "amazing" (this can also be debated) model was very left wing. Anyway, it was interesting although it was more or less a presentation of the Moderate's party's party propaganda rather than a "neutral" presentation of a country model.

Moving on, after him, good ol' mr Cameron [conservative leader] gave a little "response" to Herr Reinfeldt's speech. After the correct Swede Mr Cameron appeared to be not far from a normal circus clown; tanned, polished and with shining white teeth moving around on stage in a restless manner that reminded me of Basil Fawlty welcoming another poor victim to his B&B.

To grind himself further down, he kicked off his response with joking about the fact that he spending the evening with the "New Swedish Model" and that this model was called Fredrik! And he obviously got everyone laughing, it that ho-ho laddish manner and I am sure that no women (and probably no men either in all honesty) found it at all funny.

Ok, call me Swedish, Correct, Serious, Bleak (but not bold, hehe!) but that was just such a low point that I almost wanted to leave. Yes, I DO appreciate that always-be-joking attitudes, but sometimes it gets to extremes. This was a after all a lecture at LSE, not a stand-up session in a pub.

But hopefully this only mirrors our dear Cameron's real personality: Low-quality, predictable and sexist, rather than a generalized view of the country. But I must say that it's alarming given that he is one of the most prominent politicians here...

KEIN SPIEL!

Dating a German is brilliant. The most brilliant thing I have ever done. Never have I experienced anything so clear, uncomplicated and informative in my entire life. He even beats the Swedes. Evidence on this:

• He informs and discusses with me when he wants to visit me and wants to plan this
• When he cannot call as he has promised, he texts me to inform me on this
• He wants to talk about us and who we are and get deep on things
• Even if his English and my German are rather bad, we still manage to be more open and honest about all sorts of discussion topics

So, this is the most straightforward process I have ever experienced, be it Swedes, Englishmen, Frenchmen, and not to mention.. Australian.

Question is if it's the nationality or perhaps just the fact that he is a straightforward person with perhaps some interests in not playing games? At any rate, it is good. I like it. It's very relaxing... Perhaps because it's a bit like miself.

Australian Finding

Went down under for New Years. You know, as one does every now and then... Clearly with a Hidden Agenda to find some good stories. Found out a lot of the funny kangaroo-peoples. But what kept me in constant laughter were the signs for pedestrian crossings. I concluded they don't do knees in Australia. Knees are just SO Old World.

Ways of expressing

When you ski in Germany, the signs tell you "VERBOTEN hier zu skilaufen. VERBOTEN". Very direct. Very very direct, intending to scare I think. Well, I get scared anyway. I wonder what it would be like to ski if England had any sorts of ski-slopes (apart from the plastic indoor ones in Milton Keynes)? "Would you please not venture down this way since there might be some inconveniences involved. Many thanks in advance".

Hallo?

Oh, come on now sweet German superman. Get your act together and houl your ass over here soon. No, not that I CARE about you or think that you are Zuper-Sexy or handsome, or sweet or that I have everything in common with you. Not at all. I need this for my mixing-culture-project. So, get that ticket booked JETZT!

Liberated Swedes?

...not really. Depends on what you compare it with. I found myself in a somewhat awkward situation last weekend. Me and Mr Germany were trotting around feeling healthy and exclusive in a fantastic SPA in the German Alps. Surrounded by snowy alps and modern architecture in an old fashioned castle, we were soaking in the outdoor warm pools, getting water massage in the jacuzzis and sipping herbal teas. I suggested we'd go to the saunas, but I felt my friend was a bit reluctant. So, I ventured on my own into the sauna areas where there was a great selection of saunas, "steamed", "Finnish" etc, all in a very clean and modern design with great windows over the mountains. Lovely.

What was a bit less lovely though was the fact that the first thing i bumped into was a man in his sixties and his intimate parts! I panicked and ran out to ask my friend to ask where the ladies' area was. He raised an eyebrow and said it was mixed. And not only mixed, but naked mixed!!! Was is LOS? My friend nodded and said he wasn't all that German and did not enjoy showing his private parts to all the Spa-guests, so thankfully I didn't have to get forced into the German nudity culture.

Thank god. I am still in shock.

Hidden Agenda numero 3

Well I guess my entire life has some sort of reading worthiness in it. I believe I manage to get into all sorts of situations just by being me. And they are perhaps not a Hidden Agenda, but they sure come in handy when writing. How ego-centric is that!

"My sheer presence in this world will create great stories".

Haha, that is pure humour. But I suppose all goes hand-in-hand: I like excitement and challenges and the rest comes in naturally. Hidden or not.

På återseende.

Hidden Agenda numero 2

The second Hidden Agenda is obviously that I am actually living in jolly ol' England. Not that I ever thought that I would move to this rainy island with the sole purpose of getting great input to my writing, but I dare say it's not a bad side-effect. I will gladly provide you with a number of good stories of my life as a foreigner in this country, as I have collected few during my soon four years here.

See you soon.

Hidden Agenda numero 1

Ok, dating a German is an easy one, I know this. Very little else can beat the levels of amusement of getting involved in the German society. And I must say I like it. Not only the amusements but the Germans. If anyone would have told me three years ago, when I was skiing in Austria with my dear friends the Oracles from Chiswick, that I would date a German, I would NEVER have believed them. I loudly and cleary declared that Germans /ALL/ Germans were rude, uncultivated, rude, ugly, rude and styleless and... rude. How very "un-rude" of me to throw out this very prejudice comments. Mrs Oracle tried to outnumber my arguments with some "contra-viewpoints", that I, needless to say, more or less completely disregarded with a bored bah.

So here I now sit with the "beard in the mailbox" as we would say in Swedish. I am now dating a German who is very cultivated, extremely handsome, the kindest in the world (possibly) and a real gentleman. Ok ok ok. But I can also admit my mistakes. I was WRONG. Taking it back. Apologizing. Bowing and curtesing. I am SORRY.

So why is Dating a German so entertaining? Well, there is just something about the way the differences between England and Sweden and Germany are just so VAST but still so small. So, even though I must admit that I am very happy to date this gorgeous man, it is not a complete negative aspect that the man is German, since it gives me loads of input to my new blog. And that, is a really good Hidden Agenda.

Auf Wiedersehen