Coffe with whipped cream

One day later, the same location - another computer and a few events into the future, here I sit wondering what I'm going to write. Does it really matter? I could just write about nothing, as some do. Just yammer on and on - like Seinfeld.

Or maybe about my day, perhaps I do that alot and I hate to bore you with insignificant details. Like, that I had two classes in between which I ate a lunch consisting of homemade food for the first time since arriving. Then read a few pages out of Song of Solomon before attending the football game at the sportscenter. But as I said, I would hate to bore you to death with details. For example that I wore the grey dress/jumper my parents send to me, together with my striped stockings. My red jacket I don't even think I would have to mention as that's a constant factor of my outfits. 

Possibly I should follow the direction of so many famous "bloggers" and write about my latest favorite outfit I saw at a store downtown...besides the fact that the last thing I bought was a grey, again, dress/jumper, that I like but not particularly fond of. Then again I could tell you about the gorgeus purple hat I bought at United Colors of Bennetton, but why should you be interested in that? Makes no sense. I wear the hat and it's of absolutely no interest for you since you're not in my closest proximity and wouldn't be able to borrow it. Not that I would lend it to you. 

I could talk about my latest Starbucks visit but since those are weekly regulars in my daily life here in Brighton it isn't half interesting for you to know. The chances are that during one of your (you who know me) phonecalls I've been at Starbucks. Do hang out there too much, I am told.

No none of these subjects hold greater interest to me at the moment, so I'm just going to move on and check my facebook and then head home to read the book "Song of Solomon".

Sorry that I have bored you with this blog about absolutely nothing. My grievest appologies.

Sitting at the library with John and listening on youtube a man speaking to an audience about the do's the don'ts and the how's to approaching a woman, being a woman myself, I must say that it is quite interesting to listen to how the male mind works.

Know that my written proficincy teacher would lecture me about my long sentences :p

Anyways: with John by my side I get to hear a load of inside information that will certainly occupy my head the next time I go out. As J. says everything that this man say's to this crowd of helpless men are things that everyone knows. Yet, somehow when in progress the mind has a funny way of rationalising these rational thoughts away and stay with the irrational ones. Like, if I text him over and over again without a response, there isn't any reason for him to stop responding is there.

I'm sitting on my bed in my pink pj's, eating a jacket potato, a green salad and Uncle Ben's sweet and sour sauce, an appropriate ending to the unusual day/night I've had. It''s not every day you sit at the library until two thirty studying for a test. Well, at least not in my everyday life. This sort of thing only happens in movies...or, at least I thought so.

Tonight I sat at the library studying for the phonetics test on wednesday, or since it's officially tuesday, the test is tomorrow. Horror, the test is tomorrow... An expert of beginning to work and immediately finding something more interesting to occupy myself with, tomorrow will be a true test of character.

Will I be able to focus and pass the test of?
        A yes/no question - high rise, polite
 

the end

Fencing today exceded my expectations. Coming to the class none of the girls, that would be me, Jo, Catherine, Maria and Lydia where really on the top of our game. It had been a long, long day.

I found out that, not only do we have to write a essay on "Educating Rita" but the three hundred long 'Song of Solomon' is due, not next monday but the following. With my little sister visiting, it is an understatement to say I was stressed. 

Catherine had had a bad day and wanted to leave class during the morning after contiously bumping into things, only Maria could talk her into enduring. 
And Lydia... Lydia went home after class and took a nap! 
  
However, once there, each with a sword in our right hands and the proper fencing clothes on, we began to fence. I must admit that the song Sandra let me listen to on her Ipod really did the trick, cause as I was fencing against Graham, I began to feel like Robin Hood. The song: Man must Dance, do have a cling of truth to it doesn't it? Dancing back and forwards across the white lines, I eventually won my first mock-fencing match. With that, a bad day turned good. Sure I wasn't trying to save the virgin Marion out of the hands of evil king John. But, come on...where am I gonna find a king?!

Tomorrow an excursion to Chichester awaits, and although no risk of playing Robin Hood there - unless we find a sword :) -  I look forward to it with high expectations, and, hopefully a coffee. 

xxx 

Studying at an University in Brighton has it's difficulties. So I am studying according to a Swedish module meaning it's theoretically the same as if I were in Sweden, however. No!
The English culture involves nights out at a pub just about every night of the week, something that we (the Swedes) took slightly too seriously. The first four weeks (okay, month) were spent at various pubs, drinking, getting to know each other and of course getting to know others. First time out, the club "arc" received the honor to host the majority of the Swedes as we visited the Indieclub, where just about everyone found someone "interesting" to "dance" with. We had a blast and the following week's was hectic, running from one pub to the other, I didn't even consider that I was here with a purpose:
      - to study!

Now I'm struggling to catch up while balancing fencing classes, the school newspaper (the Badger), finding time for my new found friends and exploring the city I live in.
    I'm sure I wouldn't be having this problem had I studied in Gavle or even in Gothenburg.

I mean...
                do they even have fencing classes there?!

How some people know without a doubt know exactly what to do in their lives. Sitting with my computer on, two days until the deadline to choose a course for next term and with thousands of possibilities, I have not a clue as to what to choose. Here, you see, sits a girl with a severe case of unability to make a decision. There are so many things I'm interested in and several different ways to get to my goals, that I can't for the life of me make up my mind.

However, seeing as how I can stand in a store for hours trying to decide whether to get crisps or icecream, it isn't very hard to understand how a life altering decision has me jumping up and down in frustration. 

So I'm back!
At the same place as last year, with the only different that I know a bit more now. Ha, realisation, I know more. So it is true that you learn with time. Yet, it is still just as difficult as it was then. 

So what have we learned from this update of my blog? 

That I have a real gift! 
 - For finding ways to not do what I'm supposed to. 
Better try and get some things done then...Maybe I'll check if anyone wrote on my wall.. 

 

There are things you look back at, wishing you had done them differently or that you had done something at all...Maybe that you had asked that girl on the street where she bought those gorgeus pair of boot's,perhaps that you had walked up to that cute boy in you class or, well, anything. Yesterday was one of those days. Not one that I regret but one where I did everything that came into my mind. 
Okay, so I didn't mean to trip and nearly crash half the Badger director's office, but I several other events lead to yesterday being a GOOD day. What happened? 
- The Starbucks guy bought me a ´double chocolat muffin´. 
- A old man in a wheelchair told me I was a really nice person (for lending him my cellphone) then preceeded to ask me to have coffe with him. An offer declined. 
- I asked bus inspectors what their jobdescription was. (haha) Would have regretted it, had I not. 

During these past few days, I have caught myself longing for two of my favorite holiday's: Halloween and Christmas! Now that I am finally in a country that celebrates Halloween the way I like it, I am going to really enjoy it.
A bunch of Christmas movies await. I suddenly had a strong urge to watch Home Alone with Macually Culkin. Anyone interested? 

Oh yeah, and I've found the most perfect wrap paper for my presents! ;)

The three types of guys from two nights ago was inspired by Sebastian P. Brodin who wrote about the different type of guys and their methods on picking up girls.

I have realised, after for the first time in my life hanging out with guys, what boys/men (or call them what you like) think about. Or rather, how they think. I would hate to generalise men, but for the sake of not having to write a novel here I'll simply have to.
First off: "There is no bullshit. Men do and say what's on there mind". So when Jack Burger in Sex and the City say's, "he's just not that into you". It isn't just a greatly humorous line, but a actual fact. What can this teach us? Well, no point in trying to analyze the true meaning behind what he told you on the phone, or the words he texted you.  
A second "fact", that my time here in Brighton has taught me is that there are three types of men. Roughly speaking of course.

The smooth guy: This guy knows how to charm his way through a crowd and right into everyones heart. He can entertain the crowd all night with his stories and manages to make every single girl and boy feel special. Flirt much?! Even though this guy "could" flirt your pants off, he's actually a nice guy. Believe it or not.  

The gentleman - boy: This is the cutest guy in his circle of friends. He opens the door, allows you to walk in first and even carries your bag when your out. Not if it's a small pink handbag though, even he has his limits.
This guy has a James Bond air over him, mixed with dash of Mr. Darcy. He drinks, flirts and personafies Mr. sociable! He and the smooth guy get along great.

The friendly guy: There is of course one guy who is the other guy's friend. What other guy? Well, anyone, to be frank. He is good at sports, good at work and fun to hang out with. This is the guy who want's to buy you a Starbucks because you where sick and he thinks you should indulge yourself. Could you have a better friend??!

These are the characters I've run into so far. 
I so do look forward to the rest...   

Waking up late this morning led to a lot of clothes being tossed around in the search of the perfect "outfit" for the day's class. Half an hour later I was on my way towards Starbucks to buy the day's first cup of coffe, also known as my breakfast.
How did I go from being Miss Healthy to the girl famous for eating at Burger King, McDonald's and every other junkfood chain known to man??! The staff at the various "restaurants" now recognize me and after only three week's shout,
 -"see you", after me as I leave. This is ridiculous!!!
   
Currently half my class have occupied the university's library, in search of a comfortable place where they can study in preparation for the Phonetics exam. Which is on Friday!!! Horror. I haven't done ANYTHING. Not exaggerating. 
    Today/night will be spent at Starbucks, with a chai latte (possibly) and the phonetics book. 

And what am i having for dinner you might ask.
   Well, probably McDonald's!

So after three weeks I am finally somewhat comfortable in the city known to the world as Brighton. 

On a first glance the experience was slightly dramatic. After having spent a mere three hours in my room at the Miami Hotel, I longed to go home and began looking at pictures of my two sisters, my parents and of the city I call home.  

How comfortable it would have been to be able to walk around a city and to know just about exactly where to go and what to do. Have a Coffe Mocha at George and maybe take a walk towards the College of Gavle, sit on the benches outside the library and read "God's little acre". After a few hours maybe begin to walk towards Satra and stop at Rosita's house to chat about the latest news in our lives.
    Instead, here I was in a new city walking around the streets all alone, with a heavy bag on my shoulder and nobody to call on or speak to. 
Tears began to fall down my cheeks. What the hell was I doing here? I've been wanting to come abroad to study since I was seven years old, I thought I would be jumping with joy. I had never felt more alone. 
   
The past three week's I have moved twice. From the Miami Hotel to Maldon, where I lived for two week's, and then to Sacksville. A house I will be leaving tomorrow for yet another host family on Holland, whom I'll be leaving nine days later.

Now, finally, I've begun to see it for what it is. An adventure. 
 Moving from one place to the other, living out of a suitcase and meeting alot of increadible people. Personalities I've only seen on the tele back home.
     And the class, a class consisting of only Swedes naturally leads to the students speaking a great deal of Swedish. Every now and then we do a 180 degree spin and spontaneously begin to speak english.   

Pubbing and clubbing and a whole lot of Starbucks sums up my three week's in Brighton, surprisingly well. For you who didn't feel like reading the whole "boring" sob story above :p
     xxx 
 from Brighton