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!