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.