Tempting. But probably not true.

Have you ever noticed just how easy life is? We are told which side of the train to disembark. There are instructions of use on my tube of toothpaste. And should you come across a gimmick, thing, whatsit, and aren't quite sure of how to use, hold, work or process this, well jeez, google it. What are you, born yesterday?

I would be the first to criticise any linkage between, say, someone's disability to independently ascertain the side of the train where the platform is and the (somewhat disturbingly) high chances of Donald Trump becoming President. But it is tempting. You gotta admit.

Since, however, the sun is shining (on a completely unrelated note, I never did realise just how dependent I was on this ball of fire. Seven months of darkness would break anyone. Goes to show you really don't know what you got till it's gone), instead of sending a lament out into cyberspace, here's something (slightly addictive) to keep those brain cells active: Word Bubbles. Also useful for procrastination. And might want to be used just before making a big decision. Just in case.

How To...

...Detect a Swede.

Contrary to popular opinion, not all Swedes are blond and blue-eyed. Only about 83.17% are. So here are some clues as to how identify a real Swede in a crowd.

1. Picture following scenario: you are walking down the street dressed in a man's jacket, scarf, ear-muffs, anything to keep out the cold and a girl strides past wearing wellingtons (as last seen on My Little Farm) and no discernible pants. At -7 C. This is, without a doubt, as Swede (general pantlessness in favour of skirts, tights, leggings, shorts is visible at all times of the year).

2. An attractive young man coming into the bar catches your eye. If you are not sure, however, if this is the token Swede you would like to bring home to show off to you friends, do not fear. Wait until said young man has taken off the dark-blue wooly hat (already a pretty good sign) and exposed his haircut. If his hair is shaved on the sides, but has more "cupcake-like" pouf on the top than Goldie Hawn when she was young, this, too, is a member of the Swedish nation.

3. If said nice young man had a three-hour conversation with you over a beer but does not meet your eye the next day while walking past on said street where you are admiring the unclad legs of a Swedess, then here is the ultimate piece of evidence. Do you detect a note of bitterness? Yes, dammit, you do.

Clichés for Dummies

German = Suspenders. White socks in sandals, now that I might have understood. But no, suspenders seem to be on top of the stereotype-hitlist. I'm not complaining, I can think of at least five which are less classy. This is what I noticed at the "Oktoberfest" held in my residency last night. And I would like to take the opportunity and talk about a Swedish stereotype. Blond and blueeyed might be one thing, but Swedish girls also don't wear pants. Leggings, skirts, tights: yes, pants: not so much. Usually combined with a sweater that has a certain resemblance to a sack. Yet man, are they still hot. Am I jealous? I believe I will leave that unanswered.

Brännboll på Parentesen 2010

Last night one of the numerous blond, silent men sharing my corridor with me asked me what Germans associate with Sweden. The obvious answer was blond, silent men and moose (if you don't understand this, you're obviously not German. Live with it.) I realise that I was drifting into clichés, and that Sweden does have a lot more to offer than that. But never in my wildest dreams did I imagine this...

And yes, they made the poor German play as well:

Well, at least we didn't land in the Garbage Final. No thanks to me though...

The Karma (Bi)Cycle

I am already rather well-known here in Lund, at least in my student residency and in certain shops. No, I'm not talking about the National Alcohol Store, I'm talking about a bicycle shop in "downtown" Lund. Reason: I have apparently managed to set up the record of the fastest bicycle theft. They are pretty common here in the city which is also known as "Little Beijing", but usually you have the pleasure of using your bike for more than 3 hours before it's gone.

I bought my bike on a Wednesday and it got stolen on (badadadam) Wednesday. I was pretty pissed. BUT! Enter the Swedish police, my new friend, helper and hero. They managed to find my bicycle, contact the shop where I bought it which in turn contacted me and I can now go and pick up my beloved bicycle today or tomorrow. I must have done something right in my previous life...

Go Green

No, I haven't decided to sell my soul and internet space (thank God these two things aren't identical yet) to the Green Party. But I suppose I have been slightly infected by the lands of elves and fairies. And to keep enough trees for the creatures of the forest, here's my contribution: make it green. And for all of you who don't understand the website...well, stop surfing the internet and go learn German. Or use google translate.

Välkomna i Bullerby

Lund is picturesque. Quaint. Dainty, even. It is reminiscent of Astrid Lindgren and the perfect world portrayed in her story books.

From what I have seen in the last few days, between settling in and trying to get into the foolproof dumpster, everything seems politically correct. And, of course, good for the environment. Even the punks loitering in front of the train station seemed kind of cuddly and cute (don't tell them I said that, the dog was kinda scary after all).

My only hope is the students. When they come back I dream to be let into the world of seedy, grimy, smoke filled - wait, I mean smoke free and approved by the board of hygiene - but nevertheless smelly bars with disgusting toilets. Because if they sanitise the restrooms here EVERYWHERE, I'm coming back home. A person has got to have his standards.