The blog goes to Stockholm
WARNING: For all of you insanely bored borderline-adults I assume is my readership, this blog is temporarily going to turn into a shopping blog. Deal.
Not much blogging has been done this week. Because it has been awesome. Hopefully more information on this week will follow, but just to satisfy your raving curiosity, here are some high points:
- went to the Capitol of Minnesota, did not meet the Governor (because of stupid wild fires)
- got to tease Organisation-members from warmer countries for being cold in big winter jackets while walking around in flimsy dress and heels
- got to go shopping in a thrift store, found pretty Nr 1, which was promptly used at said Capitol-visit
- got complimented by 25 people on said find, which is not bad. Got complimented by 6 staff members on said find while at Capitol, which is slightly suspicious. Got told straight out by 2 staff members that they had been worried about what I was going to wear.
"You look like something out of "The Great Gatsby!"" - Vocal Coach S (and I'm allowed to quote compliments, because it's my blog, so suck it)
- got to steal my host families kitchen and make home-made truffles.
- was serenaded by host family because of upcoming birthday and given tiramisu-cake. Totally did not get teary-eyed. At all.
(stop sniggering)
Annnd now for the main event...
MY VISIT TO STOCKHOLM!
And before you guys start whining about why I didn't tell you I was coming back. I wasn't in Stockholm, Sweden. I was in Stockholm, Wisconsin, the tiny town which today was home to about 4,500 bikers. It's one of those swedish settlements that came to be when lots and lots of swedes went to America to escape famine and cold in the homeland, inspiring one (1) horrible musical and one (1) very dramatic song by Peter Jöback. It was the cutest little town ever, with lots of bakeries, quilt shops, and antique stores.
For those of you who know me, you know what this means. I love antique stores. I love their weird musty smell, I love how the light falls on a dusty cabinet, I love the cracked plastic hangers, I love the eccentrics behind the counter. And this happened to be the best antique store in the history of mankind.
Now, being that I can't bring much with me on the road, I couldn't buy a tenth of what I wanted. So,
PICTURE TIME!
The world is a better place because it has a Barbie airplane in it.
I'm gonna be totally honest - if I thought I could ship this to Sweden without damaging it I would.
HATS!
There is no such thing as a sexy purse you say? MARILYN BEGS TO DIFFER!
Old-timey photo album. That is all.
Oh hello, scary robot Bambi. What is that? You want to eat my soul? All right then, sounds reasonable.
It's a FUNCTIONING LIGHTBULB FROM 1918. If you don't think that's cool, then I have no idea how you found my blog, Bella Swan.
Yes, I spent way too much money. But I'm happy. To be all serious and boring for a moment, this has been my favourite week so far - my host family was simply spectacular. So funny and genuine and caring.
Eh, done with serious time.
To finish off todays report on the Life and Times of Camilla the All-Round Splendid Swede, my card suddenly isn't working and my braces broke.
Just so you won't think I'm having TOO good of a time.
Sweet dreams, kiddos,
/C
Not much blogging has been done this week. Because it has been awesome. Hopefully more information on this week will follow, but just to satisfy your raving curiosity, here are some high points:
- went to the Capitol of Minnesota, did not meet the Governor (because of stupid wild fires)
- got to tease Organisation-members from warmer countries for being cold in big winter jackets while walking around in flimsy dress and heels
- got to go shopping in a thrift store, found pretty Nr 1, which was promptly used at said Capitol-visit
- got complimented by 25 people on said find, which is not bad. Got complimented by 6 staff members on said find while at Capitol, which is slightly suspicious. Got told straight out by 2 staff members that they had been worried about what I was going to wear.
"You look like something out of "The Great Gatsby!"" - Vocal Coach S (and I'm allowed to quote compliments, because it's my blog, so suck it)
- got to steal my host families kitchen and make home-made truffles.
- was serenaded by host family because of upcoming birthday and given tiramisu-cake. Totally did not get teary-eyed. At all.
(stop sniggering)
Annnd now for the main event...
MY VISIT TO STOCKHOLM!
And before you guys start whining about why I didn't tell you I was coming back. I wasn't in Stockholm, Sweden. I was in Stockholm, Wisconsin, the tiny town which today was home to about 4,500 bikers. It's one of those swedish settlements that came to be when lots and lots of swedes went to America to escape famine and cold in the homeland, inspiring one (1) horrible musical and one (1) very dramatic song by Peter Jöback. It was the cutest little town ever, with lots of bakeries, quilt shops, and antique stores.
For those of you who know me, you know what this means. I love antique stores. I love their weird musty smell, I love how the light falls on a dusty cabinet, I love the cracked plastic hangers, I love the eccentrics behind the counter. And this happened to be the best antique store in the history of mankind.
Now, being that I can't bring much with me on the road, I couldn't buy a tenth of what I wanted. So,
PICTURE TIME!
The world is a better place because it has a Barbie airplane in it.
I'm gonna be totally honest - if I thought I could ship this to Sweden without damaging it I would.
HATS!
There is no such thing as a sexy purse you say? MARILYN BEGS TO DIFFER!
Old-timey photo album. That is all.
Oh hello, scary robot Bambi. What is that? You want to eat my soul? All right then, sounds reasonable.
It's a FUNCTIONING LIGHTBULB FROM 1918. If you don't think that's cool, then I have no idea how you found my blog, Bella Swan.
Yes, I spent way too much money. But I'm happy. To be all serious and boring for a moment, this has been my favourite week so far - my host family was simply spectacular. So funny and genuine and caring.
Eh, done with serious time.
To finish off todays report on the Life and Times of Camilla the All-Round Splendid Swede, my card suddenly isn't working and my braces broke.
Just so you won't think I'm having TOO good of a time.
Sweet dreams, kiddos,
/C
Fake football and glowsticks
Let me start by establishing something.
I do not consider american football to be a fake sport. Unlike chess, NASCAR and curling, american football falls well in the cathegory of sports. I merely claim that soccer is the righteous owner of the moniker "football", because you kick the BALL with your FOOT. It is linguistically impossible to challenge.
I'm glad we got that out of the way.
So! I went to my first football-game yesterday. According to what I had seen in crappy high school-movies, it should contain a big field of grass, an overly exited crowd, a jumbotron, a very professional-looking halftime show, and a handsome quarterback who stops playing in the middle of the most important game of his life to run up to a beautiful-after-all-girl on the bleachers and declare his undying love for her while a blond cheerleader looks on with a defeated look on her face. All except for the last one were fulfilled; I could not help but to feel slightly disappointed.
Those pants do not look comfortable. Just sayin'.
Now, this particular football-game was, of course, better than most. Now, you may be asking yourselves, "Oh? Why is this? I must know!" Or you could be completely uninterested, but I won't finish until you ask.
See, that wasn't so hard.
The REASON for this football-game being so very special and fantastic is, of course, that The Organisation did a BTS there. (BTS meaning BackTracking Show - a smaller, shorter version of the show done for promotional purposes). We actually got to perform for 7000 people which was moderately awesome. They actually made a great crowd - they were already so excited about the game that we didn't have to do much to have them cheering like crazy.
Yes I'm there! I'm in the red dress on the far left, see? With the black belt!
Anyway, after the BTS we got to stay and watch the game. Hanging out with my fellow castmates is always fun, but not being a big fan of sports, I expected to be not-too-amused. Being that like 79% of the Organisation is contradicting expectations I, of course, had one of the best nights I've had since I came here. I was quickly adopted by a gang of 15-year-old girls, who outfitted me with glowsticks and had me sing "Hey Soul Sister" with them and 4000 other high school-students at halftime.
(Quick note: it's very awkward when they start singing "Proud to be an American". What do you do? Do you stand there and look uncomfortable and risk them getting angry for you not showing their country respect? Do you sing along and risk them getting angry for you singing even though you are very much not an american? I DON'T EVEN KNOW THE LYRICS, PEOPLE!)
In conclusion, had a fantastic night, despite the soda-salesman giving me Cherry Coke, then insisting it was Diet Pepsi. Twice.
HEY! I HEARD THAT!
Your MOM can be petty.
Keep on truckin', my lovelies,
/C
I do not consider american football to be a fake sport. Unlike chess, NASCAR and curling, american football falls well in the cathegory of sports. I merely claim that soccer is the righteous owner of the moniker "football", because you kick the BALL with your FOOT. It is linguistically impossible to challenge.
I'm glad we got that out of the way.
So! I went to my first football-game yesterday. According to what I had seen in crappy high school-movies, it should contain a big field of grass, an overly exited crowd, a jumbotron, a very professional-looking halftime show, and a handsome quarterback who stops playing in the middle of the most important game of his life to run up to a beautiful-after-all-girl on the bleachers and declare his undying love for her while a blond cheerleader looks on with a defeated look on her face. All except for the last one were fulfilled; I could not help but to feel slightly disappointed.
Those pants do not look comfortable. Just sayin'.
Now, this particular football-game was, of course, better than most. Now, you may be asking yourselves, "Oh? Why is this? I must know!" Or you could be completely uninterested, but I won't finish until you ask.
See, that wasn't so hard.
The REASON for this football-game being so very special and fantastic is, of course, that The Organisation did a BTS there. (BTS meaning BackTracking Show - a smaller, shorter version of the show done for promotional purposes). We actually got to perform for 7000 people which was moderately awesome. They actually made a great crowd - they were already so excited about the game that we didn't have to do much to have them cheering like crazy.
Yes I'm there! I'm in the red dress on the far left, see? With the black belt!
Anyway, after the BTS we got to stay and watch the game. Hanging out with my fellow castmates is always fun, but not being a big fan of sports, I expected to be not-too-amused. Being that like 79% of the Organisation is contradicting expectations I, of course, had one of the best nights I've had since I came here. I was quickly adopted by a gang of 15-year-old girls, who outfitted me with glowsticks and had me sing "Hey Soul Sister" with them and 4000 other high school-students at halftime.
(Quick note: it's very awkward when they start singing "Proud to be an American". What do you do? Do you stand there and look uncomfortable and risk them getting angry for you not showing their country respect? Do you sing along and risk them getting angry for you singing even though you are very much not an american? I DON'T EVEN KNOW THE LYRICS, PEOPLE!)
In conclusion, had a fantastic night, despite the soda-salesman giving me Cherry Coke, then insisting it was Diet Pepsi. Twice.
HEY! I HEARD THAT!
Your MOM can be petty.
Keep on truckin', my lovelies,
/C
The thing about curly-haired wigs
Now, I'm not one to demean curly-haired wigs. Curly-haired wigs - or "afro-wigs" as they are commonly known - are a beautiful invention. They can turn even the most sullen, gray-faced individual into a beacon of joy.
But see, when you already look like Ronald McDonald on a rainy day, it's kind of hard to see the point.
Oh, right! To tell you about my day.
Well, today was one of those days that are exhausting while they are going on and completely impossible to remember once you're done. I know we visited three elementary school classes. I know we played games with them. I know the first class was awesome, the second one fun, and the third one filled with DEMON CHILDREN FROM HELL. I know I shared a joke with a guy I don't normally talk that much to.
(That was nice.)
Other than that I'm not exactly sure what transpired, other than the fact that I'm really tired, and that we dressed A up in an afro-wig, a fuzzy pink hat, and lipsticked her face, because it was her birthday.
Is it sad that that is such a common-place event in the Organisation that I don't even find it worth going into detail about?
Random kitten-picture...
...aaand we're done for the day!
G'night, and bite the bedbugs,
/C
