I do not look underage!

During my looong journey home, I had a 24 hour stopover in London. Since it was over Christmas, there wasn't that much to do 'in town' and I decided to simply go to a hotel and catch some sleep before my other two flights.

As I was going out of the 'duty free' area, a nice young man came up to me and asked if I wanted to try a free sample of Bailey's. He was offering everyone, so I guess it was a pretty mechanical motion by the time me and my bags rolled by. As he was approaching -and asking- me to take a sample glass, he takes another look and goes 'oh! Too young! Sorry!!!'

I AM NOT TOO YOUNG. I am 28 and well over the age limit for free drinks in duty free shops. However, I take my compliments where I can find them and assume that looking under 21 is a good thing... right?

Ten weeks

After you don't want to know how many hours of traveling, I finally made it to the land of everlasting spring. It wasn't a very tiring trip, because I did have a little layover in London that let me get some rest before getting here.

...and now I'm back. I have the (I feel) monumental task of finishing my fieldwork, my first manuscript (and submitting it!), writing most of my second article and hopefully, drafting a bit of the third with my friend Christie.

But with the sun shining bright, friends ready to hand out and lovely 24°C weather... who really wants to work? I'll get to it next year. I mean, I am a PhD student after all.

Vegetable curry and mango chutney for the soul

Ever since Magnus came for a visit and we had dinner at that Indian place in downtown Umea, I've had a craving for not-so-spice vegetable curry like you wouldn't believe. There's nothing wrong with spicy though, I just happen to have the taste buds of a 70 year-old woman from Boca Raton, Florida.

So yesterday I was at the ICA (aka, supermarket) and decided to go ahead and buy a little jar of ready made curry. Since it said 'Made in Indonesia' on it, I knew that I had to go for the mildest one they had. I also got some veggies and some polar bread, in the absence of anything Nan-like. I got home and started making my 'boil in 10 minutes rice bag' (don't laugh, rice eludes me) and put some Cardamum in the boiling water, stir fried the veggies and some Quorn pices (faux-meat for us vegetarians)and plopped the curry on the mix.

And so I sat in front on my computer screen ready to watch a movie that Magnus recommended with a steaming bowl of rice, veggie curry and mango chutney. It was great and made me really happy. So happy, I had seconds and thirds and even managed to go out and have a little walk and a ciggie. The happiness that curry brings to my senses is beyond description... although next time, I'll try the next step of spice... it seems Swedes can out-mild my old woman from Florida taste buds.

'Transferable skills': I cut Gerd's hair

One of the most important things that a PhD student has to remember is that we will eventually go back to the real world. Yes, after the PhD most of us won't be in a university anymore. We will have to do what normal adults do: live lives with schedules, actual business suits and other stuff.

To cope with this dramatic change of t-shirts and late mornings to heels and waking up early, we learn a set of the so-called 'transferable skills'. That means things that some of what we know how to do as researchers actually works in a 'real life' environment. To the best of my knowledge, I have none of those so far... well, had.

Last night, Gerd asked me to cut his hair. 'Are you scared to try? he said... to which I replied -no, are you?

I have to say I did a really good job. Even hair, client happy and I realized that I might have gotten an actual skill that's good for after my PhD -if that post-doc doesn't pan out, I mean

Stressed-out

I'm just now discovering how much I depend on my stress.

I need it like I need air to breathe. I taught myself that without, I'm not creative, witty, and basically, not me. This week though, it went too far. I could hardly sleep, had a horrible headache and realized that I need air to breathe way more than I do stress.

And I know I've complained about stress before, but I think its finally time to put a stop to it and enjoy my PhD process without sleepless nights. 'All in good time'

Are you a grown up? I am not.

Today, Prof Michael Kimmel gave a talk about his new book 'guyland'. During the introduction, he said that there are five milestones that mark the entrance into the adult world:

1. Move out of parents house (CHECK!)
2. Finish school (hmmm maybe in 2011?)
3. Get a job (!!!)
4. Ger married (yah, good luck with that)
5. Have a kid (does my thesis count?)

So, I guess this means that while I look 28 on the outside, I am actually about 6 on the inside.

Draft-head

No one said doing a PhD was easy... and no one said writing was easy either. I knew this, but I threw caution to the wind and followed my dream of doing a PhD (which is inexorably tied to writing a thesis). I did fieldwork, I analyzed data and summed-up my findings. This semester, it was time for me to write paper number one.

I won't lie and say that it's been easy, but it's not a process I hate. These last few weeks have all been about working a puzzle: finding the corner pieces, doing the edges, putting different sections together hoping that everything will fit in the end. The difference between papers and puzzles is that the puzzle you know if you're doing it wrong. The paper, you need your advisers to tell you! -or help you along the way.

Last week was all about putting the sections together. I had written out most of the manuscript in different pre-papers and as I pieced them together, I had to make my discussion of my findings. I finished on Friday evening with a headache and a sense of accomplishment. I can't wait to know what my advisers think, what changes I still have to make and how much longer until I have a 'final draft'.

The problem now is that I can't find the headspace to work. I guess I overdid it last week and have a terrible case of draft-head. I've been thinking about how to explain what that is all weekend long, and I finally came up with the definition: tt's like having a hangover, but without the wine.

Wool is not cotton

And yet I made the awful mistake of mixing the two up. How did I do that? Well, it was in Swedish and now my pretty green sweater that I got for my birthday last year shrunk. My brown sweater that Marielos gave me shrunk. My friend Mariella helped me stretch them out... I'll see what happens tomorrow when they dry

And I cut my finger so it hurts.

Just like a fairytale

Summer is over and I'm back to my old non-job as a PhD student. After long travels, no sleeping pills and delayed flights, I finally got to my little town of Umea. The first thing I did? I went on Facebook. My friend had this as her status:

"Being a graduate student is like becoming all of the Seven Dwarfs. In the beginning you're Dopey and Bashful. In the middle, you are usually sick (Sneezy), tired (Sleepy), and irritable (Grumpy). But at the end, they call you Doc, and then you're Happy."

Doesn't that just capture the pure essence and joy of doing your PhD thesis? I would have to say yes! :D

On the bandwagon

Did you hear? Michael Jackson died!

Well, of course you've heard. Everybody has. And everybody's posting something about the late, great, king of pop. I have to say, even though I'm not necessarily a fan, even though I hadn't thought about MJ in years, now that he's gone the world feels different.

I don't know why. Somewhere along the lines of his extravagance, weirdness and theatrics, I lost sight of so many great songs. So I decided to join the bandwagon and post a video. This song reminds me of my dad singing with my brothers and I. We were never any good, but there is something about singing in the living room with your dad when you're a kid that you never forget.

So where there is love...

Up-staged

I think it is completely unfair to poor Farrah Fawcett. The poor thing spent three years setting the stage for the grand finale, and then on the afternoon on the day she finally dies... Michael Jackson goes and has a cardiac arrest.

With one clean swoop he ate up all the celebrity gossip online time, all the newscasts, all the printed press room and poor Farrah only got some one-liners.

So now the king of pop is dead, leaving Madonna to be the dowager queen, and a battle between Prince and other suitors for the tittle...

Breakfast date

I really don't see as much of my best friend as I would like. It's not our fault though. She's a leader for trekking expeditions in Asia and I'm a PhD student in Sweden. If we are to have real time together, we both have to be in the same country... which makes it difficult from the get go.

In fact, when she turned 25, it had been over two years since we last saw each other (she's now 27). We decided after that big a bout that we would make an effort to hang out at least once a year -and have done it successfully these last couple of years. Now, she's training to climb Everest -as part of the seven peaks thing- and she's here to get a visa stamped on her passport. She's here for five days.

In her hectic timetable, we managed to fit in Sunday brunch. So over waffles, strawberries and black tea we caught up. We laughed, made fun of people that were not necessarily around and talked about boys, life and everything we could fit in about 90 minutes. She's coming back in October, for the whole month, but I won't be here. This means I'll be missing a visit from her and from Alejandro.

-The things one sacrifices for school.

On being back home

It's been a full two and a half weeks since I came back, and I've managed to fit quite a bit into it. Jet lag posed the usual problems, but a weekend at the lake fixed them. Who knew early to bed, early to rise made your body adjust to the time changes better and faster?

And I got myself an intern, and no job. And my car broke down and got fixed -with no job. Can you tell that not having a job for the first time in over six years is starting to worry me? -and is also strangely relaxing.

And next week I plan on starting the meetings for my fieldwork, writing a proposal for workshops, asking for money and riding out June. Being home is great, and I like it... but I can't help but miss my bike, my korridor room and the things I've left behind in Umea.

Monkey do...

My friend Denise has assigned me the fun task of writing 15 things I like. As I lack the wit of my sister in arms, I will just write things that make me happy (or laugh, which in my case is more or less the same).

1. A nice piece of chocolate after a long day.
2. The way my skin smells after a day in the sun.
3. Having one too many glasses of wine with my wonderful girlfriends.
4. Having a late-night Skype conversation with someone I love.
5. Being a 'best man'.
6. Writing.
7. My family.
8. Cheese and butter... and Scandinavian bread.
9. Baking a cake that turns out beautiful.
10. The way it feels to get into bed after a long day.
11. Saying 'no' to my advisers when I don't agree.
12. Having my advisers say that I have a talent for academic writing.
13. Understanding a bit more Swedish than I though.
14. Meeting old friends in new places.
15. Cider (of course).

Under the sea!

I'm going to Copenhagen on Saturday. I have a class there all next week and decided to get to the city a day early to see around and get to know the place on the weekend. I also want to take in a few museums because I'll probably be in class most of the day during the week.

There are many things that Copenhagen is known for. Of course there's the 'free district' called Christiania, and amazing buildings. The Danes from that particular city are said to be really friendly and nice. However, that's not what has me so excited to be going. The real reason is that I just want to see the little mermaid.

As a little girl, I remember spending hours reading Hans Christian Andersen. I also remember being outraged (at nine) when Disney changed the ending to one of my favorite stories. So by this time on Sunday, I will have seen my fair share of junkies, even more blond people and I will have stood in the port and watched the little mermaid looking back at the city. I can't wait!

'Summer glow' lotion... more like safety orange

I have very dry skin. Because of this I need a lot moisturizing lotion... which I ran out of this week. So I went to the supermarket and got me some Nivea 'Summer Beauty' lotion, guaranteed to gradually give you a 'summer glow'. Since those things hardly seem to work in Guatemala, and because it smelled really nice, I got it.

Three days later: I am very tanned, fake-tan tanned. Not only that but were the elastic of my gloves and socks go there are orange rings! Truth be told, I've never been this tanned... so maybe its not that bad. What really sucks is that it has some sort of sun block included... which I'm allergic to (I am allergic to all sun block). So not only am I orangy-skinned, but filled with little bumps from neck-to-toe.

Nice. I'm on my way to the supermarket now.

Strawberry shortcake

Last time I went to the supermarket, I got strawberries. I usually don't eat too many of them, but they were so big, red, and nice I just had to. I thought I could make a sugar cake and put them on top... and that was my plan for yesterday. Then, I thought it I should try my hand at a strawberry shortcake.

I've actually never tried it before (baking or eating it), so I thought it could be a fun challenge. I also seemed to have all the ingredients except for the whipped cream and fresh milk. I bought the former one at the ICA and the latter I got from my neighbors.

It was surprisingly fun and easy to do, and the result is a gorgeous cake that is not too sweet and that catches everyone's eye... just to prove it, here's my first ever strawberry shortcake in technicolor!

Today is the day

I've always thought I have a natural knack for languages, and I've always tried to feed that ability with classes, practice, and the occasional travel experience. I also promised myself that I would be fluent in five languages by the time I turn 30. Up til now, I have Spanish, English, my rusty -but once rather good- French and my mid-level Italian.

When I got the chance to come to Umea University to start my PhD, I thought that Swedish could be my last frontier. The months I spent here last year only left me with a vague feeling of knowing how the language sounds, some basic vocabulary and no grammar knowledge. This time around I listen to the radio and find myself recognizing words or even understanding simple phrases. That started a couple of days ago when I asked for directions to Alison's house and then again when I went to the supermarket and while I didn't say a word, I understood how much to pay, that the dude asked me for an extra crown so I could get a bill instead of coins and I thanked him.

Today, while having coffee with Isabel, Erika and Swedish PhD students, I recognized words, understood the main meaning of the conversation and felt very satisfied. So I am very far from even having a basic command of the Swedish language, but I'm marking today as when my learning started!

Went to the bank... came back with a coat.

After two weeks in the land of the blond and blue-eyed folk, I finally got my stipend check. That means that I can finally buy yarn for knitting, get flour to bake and indulge myself and get a new pair of sunglasses (my old ones got left behind in NYC).

As expected, the bank visit took really long but I finally activated my bank account and got some cash. I went into a couple of stores but didn't really find a pair that could match the awesomeness of my old glasses. Then, there it was: a spring coat with 50% off. It was a 36 (or a 5 in the US), so I thought it might be too tight... but I tried it on. Not only did it fit perfectly (which means someone else might think its a bit loose on them)but it looks so glamorous that I had to get it.

So the sunglasses are still on the drawing board, but a coat at that wonderful size and price, who could pass on such a deal?

No Spring for the wicked

April in the north of Sweden is fun: you can still play with the snow, get your feet wet and slip on ice as with the earliest months of the year with the important difference that in April you get sunlight!

Apparently, spring had made its early entrance during the last week of March. However, by the time I got here, it was long gone. But don't get me wrong. I like to see the snow. I like the way everything is white in the morning and like walking home when it's snowing. Winter living is a welcomed ritual of putting on clothes, taking them off, and realizing how much life there is underneath the cold ice. Yesterday I saw grass for the first time since I came and it was green and nice... and in the next few weeks it will keep getting greener and nicer, and warmer. Ducks in the pond will be replaced by the summer birds and the lake is going to defrost.

The night is also on its way out. We get about 10-15 more minutes of light every day and soon we will only have sun... with pretty, deep blue skies and I will start to miss the stars and being able to go to bed at 10pm. For now, though, I'm content with the winter and hope we get a few more gray days before the weather changes!

Older (and the jury's still out on 'wiser')

I have always loved my birthdays. I think its because I've faced some 'health-drama' in my life... but even before that. It might be because I've always looked forward to being older, to have gone 'round the sun once more. I also like the by-products of being older: I understand myself better, I think I understand others more and I appreciate the people that I love and that love me back more.

Since turning 27 I have realized just how important friends and family are. I have amazing friends that love me, care about me and make me feel like I am not alone in this world. I think this is the year that I finally understood what it is like to be alone and how lucky I am to have so many friends and family around me. I have a great family that always makes me laugh and it is because of them that I can say that I truly like what and who I am.

I still don't know how I feel about being 28. Being 25 was fun, 26 felt very grown-up and 27 turned into a year that showed me that I was reaping the benefists of my past in my efforts in school, my work and life wise.

And while I'm still scared of the future, have insecurities, and fights, and problems, and 'issues' like everyone else, today I kind of feel like its more than OK to have them. So my conclusion is that turning 28 is just like turning 18 but with a little extra bump -and some gray hairs.

'Passport watch' or 'you're always allowed to travel home'

I just finished packing for New York. I'm excited and have been on 'travel mode' for a few days now. This includes constant list-making/checking and the urge to run errands all day.

Travel mode also includes passport watch. Usually, I don't worry that much. One of the advantages of being a double national is that I have two passports... so if I lose one, the other nationality is right there, little booklet in hand and waiting for me. This time, because I'm traveling to the US, I really need my American passport to be nice and keep still. This was making me extra-antsy but then I remembered: you are always allowed to travel home if you lose your passport.

So I guess if the passport is MIA I can always travel 'home' (even though I haven't been to the US since I was eleven!)

Sometimes, life boils down to a game of checkers

I think I was about five years old when my uncle Roberto taught me how to play checkers... and not very long after that, I got good at it. It didn't take that much for almost every adult in my family to lose a game to me (and most of the times, it wasn't intentional!).

Once, my uncle came for a visit and played with me. I won a few times and started to get cocky... and lost miserably. He told me that I lost not because I wasn't prepared or because my technique was not good. I lost because I had too much confidence and hence lost sight of the little slip-ups and I was making and missed opportunities from being oblivious to my opponents mistakes as well.

Throughout my life I've noticed that cockiness will do that to me every time. If you are over-confident in your abilities then you will loose sight of your goal and probably not attain it. This happened with work this week. I thought I was too good for what I was assigned to do and here I am, five days later and still working on the draft.

So I remembered my uncle Roberto and what he said. I told my friend Danny about it and all he had to say is that 'Sometimes, life boils down to a game of checkers'. And he's right, it does.

The nerve!

It has come to be quite a surprise that while our society is opening-up and fighting hard to include women as equals in most aspects of modern life, we have forgotten one important thing that sets us apart from the boys: our period.

Because of this I think that now is the time to take a stand against male bosses around the world... specially that kind that tells you that you're not getting paid for the month 'because you did too much thesis-work' or give you penalties for taking your first vacation in three years. How dare they drop such news on you exactly when you are PMS'ing?

Women of the workforce, nay, of the world: unite against male bosses that only have blatant disregard for your womanly cycle!

There is no justice in the world.

Clouds

I think the world is a harsh place. Its hard, the people are not nice and life never turns out the way you think it will be. Sometimes, we just need a little self-imposed magic, a self-imposed naïve way of thinking that everything will be alright, that there is a rainbow with a big pot of gold at the end of what we are doing.

Maybe I'm doing it wrong, maybe there is no rainbow. Maybe my being naïve is not self imposed at all... but maybe believing or thinking that way that is a good thing. Is that wrong? I know the pitfalls, I know the errors and still I choose to make them, so that I feel happier. Maybe I'm just chasing clouds and are doomed never to catch them.

one, two, three... ok... four will do it -for now

The way I see it, the world in going down the proverbial crapper. Earth has some serious issues (most of which originate directly from humans, but some from the methane that comes from cow-done -love the fundamentalist Christian folk that came up with that one!) like the economy, wars, over population, incurable illnesses and disease, and global warming.

I do believe in global warming, and I do believe its mostly a bad thing. The only thing that keeps it from being a completely bad thing is my selfish and unhealthy attachment to mangoes. It just so happens that when I was a little girl mango season would start around my birthday (March 22) but this year it started in early January... nothing wrong with that...

So its not that I don't feel bad for the poor little polar bears, the sad penguins and the plants that are burned every day in the amazonian region... its that today I sat down with three mangoes and had them for lunch, and then proceeded to get a fourth one. So world, I'm sorry but I refuse to feel guilty for an 8 month mango season.

NYC baby! -and an extra day to boot!

I keep hearing people taking these so-called 'vacations' that apparently involve having 'free time' to 'not work'. Those things sound fan-freaking-tastic, uh? Well,I haven't had one of those since I graduated from college back in the summer of 2004.

In a very impulsive move with my friend, we decided I should take some time off... and go visit said friend to New York. We found a great ticket and it all fell into place so we bought it. All that was left was actually telling my boss that I would not be working for a week. So two weeks after we got the ticket I finally got the nerve to tell him. What did he say? 'Good! its healthy to take time off!'.

So, not only do I have 'free time' to goof around in NYC and upstate, but I just noticed that I got my ticket for a day earlier than I thought... so I gots me an extra day of vacations! (that was a huge mistake and I'm blaming it on Mercury's retrograde... but heck, a great mistake, uh?)

This is what my name sounds like

A while ago I found out my name is a famous song from the US Civil War. Its kind of interesting how these things come to be...

So, after I found out about it I googled the lyrics but never thought to look for the actual song. So here, for you, this is what my name sounds like. I rather like it! :)



An these are the lyrics... in case you want to sing along!

The years creep slowly by, Lorena
The snow is on the grass again
The sun's low down the sky, Lorena
The frost gleams where the flowers have been
But the heart throbs on as warmly now
As when the summer days were nigh
Oh, the sun can never dip so low
A-down affection's cloudless sky.

A hundred months have passed, Lorena
Since last I held that hand in mine
And felt the pulse beat fast, Lorena
Though mine beat faster far than thine
A hundred months...'twas flowery May
When up the hilly slope we climbed
To watch the dying of the day
And hear the distant church bells chime.

We loved each other then, Lorena
More than we ever dared to tell
And what we might have been, Lorena
Had but our loving prospered well
But then, 'tis past, the years have gone
I'll not call up their shadowy forms
I'll say to them, "Lost years, sleep on
Sleep on, nor heed life's pelting storms."

The story of the past, Lorena
Alas! I care not to repeat
The hopes that could not last, Lorena
They lived, but only lived to cheat
I would not cause e'en one regret
To rankle in your bosom now
"For if we try we may forget"
Were words of thine long years ago.

Yes, these were words of thine, Lorena
They are within my memory yet
They touched some tender chords, Lorena
Which thrill and tremble with regret
'Twas not the woman's heart which spoke
Thy heart was always true to me
A duty stern and piercing broke
The tie which linked my soul with thee.

It matters little now, Lorena
The past is in the eternal past
Our hearts will soon lie low, Lorena
Life's tide is ebbing out so fast
There is a future, oh, thank God!
Of life this is so small a part
'Tis dust to dust beneath the sod
But there, up there, 'tis heart to heart.

I can't believe it

So my car got broken into... 'broken' being the operative word as they shattered my driver side window. My poor Ford Fiesta looks sad and like she has no idea what's happening.

I wasn't mad when I first saw it... but as time passes I feel the sulfur rising. Someone broke into my property and had ample time to browse through my belongings. The worse part? After perusing through them they decided they didn't like anything so they left EVERYTHING.

I should be glad that all my stuff is still there but the fact that all I had in there were books (expensive, public health books in English), honey cookies and a couple of sweaters tells me a few things: the first one being that the idiots don't know how to read. Then... that they probably only eat crappy food, and finally that they don't like my fashion sense.

Well... I'd never!

Friends that are girls

One of the things I learned in 2008 is the importance of having friends... that are girls.

In these last twelve months I realized that surrounding yourself with caring, compassionate and understanding women makes you the same way. It softens you and makes you see the world in another light. I don't know why I didn't realize this sooner. Actually, I just realized it this week.

The last two weeks have been filled with girlfriends: some that live abroad where in town, others that are far away sent updates and chatted. The ones that are always around had time and opportunity so that we could open up and get to know each other a bit better. I talked about apples, boyfriends, kids, university and drank wine, tea and juice while we lit candles, sat in rooms with pretty flowers and had world class chocolate.

I just read a sappy book so know you all have to put up with my sappy 'I love you' to all my friends that had a beer in El Pilar, walked nine Antigua blocks, made rice for me and put up with me and my particular sense of humor (and moods) every day. I miss all of you.

Three years

I remember being really scared. Through December not many people knew I was sick and in early January not even my oncologist could tell me how sick I actually was. So no one knew... not even me.

Three years ago today I woke-up after surgery and I was crying. I was scared, even more scared than when I went into the OR. I just was not ready for chemo, for (more) pain and funny enough... I wasn't ready to lose my curls -I was more scared of that than any other thing, mostly because that meant I was a 'sick person' and I just couldn't handle that.

But I woke-up and my mom told me everything was alright. The surgery had been even more successful than anyone expected and at least for now, I didn't have to worry about being sick. Because of the experience I've grown and also seen how wonderful my friends can be... and three years later I'm still here :)

Luna di citta' d'agosto

Luna di città d'agosto
che sembri solamente mia
in questo asfalto posto
con la gente che se n'è andata via
luna di città d'agosto
mi piace guardarti la schiena
mentre sei girata verso il mare
in questa nottata serena
va e dille che sto bene
di non pensare a me
di lasciar perdere
il vento soffia e il tempo passerà
palazzi e strade come scenografie
di uno spettacolo
che è andato male
coi ballerini che tolgono il trucco
per ritornare a cominciare a sognare
luna di città d'agosto
raccontami un' altra bugia
fammi riscaldare davanti
al fuoco caldo della malinconia
va e dille che sto bene
di non pensare a me
di lasciar perdere
il vento soffia
e il tempo passerà...

Here comes the sun...

I just got home, changed into my jammies and realized I had a wonderful day today. The sun was shinning and not a cloud could be found in the sky. The temperature was just right to wear shorts and it felt like a glorious late Spring day.

I walked around and was outside all day. I sat at a park bench to read a bit of a great book, I had lunch with dear, dear friends and went shopping for presents for some of the ones that aren't with me right now. So it was kind of like having all the important people around me all day.

Now I'm tired like I remember being tired after a long, nice, and fun day as a kid. The sunlight gives you so much energy but makes you sleepy when it goes away... sleepy in such a nice, warm way were you can barely wait to jump into you nice bed and hug your pillows and just keep on being happy.

Originally I was set to spend the day sitting in the CIRMA library and while I love libraries, sometimes life just works-out in your favor without you knowing it.