London and beyond

Brainless

Yeah, that's exactly what I had planned to do with my razors (and the packaging). I'm so happy they warned me in advance... Eh?

What about using your heads, people?!?

Tonight I had one of the funniest nights in a long time. Sweden is taking over the EU presidency on July 1, and there will be loads of activities in connection to this. One of them is called ‘Sweden on stage’, and will be held in Hampstead Heath on the 4^th. So, I’ve been planning to hold a small ‘after-birthday-picnic’ there on the day. One of the performers will be Benny Andersson (of ABBA fame), so it’ll be quite an event. Tonight, he released his latest CD in the UK (and in English), and as a launch party, and as a preparation for the concert (to which Benny apparently want people to dance) there was a dance course held tonight. Folk dance! I had an absolute blast! Not that I think I’ll dance on the day (more than my usual drunken stumbling around), but it was still great fun – and the two-three years of folk dancing I did as a kid are still definitely in me!

Sunday, sweet Sunday

Maybe the picture below needs an explanation. All the ladies in the choir held a big party for the men; three course dinner, drinks, entertainment, the lot (any friend on facebook can see a few pictures there). It also included decorating the gents’ – walls covered in sports, candles everywhere, and a small table with a few cans of beer, and loads of samples of men’s toiletries (perfumes, deodorants, and even a facial crème). There was a Moroccan lamb stew (Jamie Oliver’s recipe, very nice) for mains, and the men were really waited upon. Loads of dancing and drinks afterward. A great night, I got home at around 3, but stayed up and chatted to Helena who stayed the night instead of going all the way out to her western suburb. Still managed to get up at 9 (!), when Tim made us a full English breakfast, while I baked scones. Helena left at 14, and then we went back to Battersea park. Took the bus there (quite a detour, but fun to see new parts of town – I really like both Clapham and Battersea now), and strolled around for an hour or so. Didn’t have time to go to the zoo, so I’m saving the otters for another day. Had party leftovers for dinner, and then watched the last Alien-movie. We started going through the series (which Tim got for his birthday last year) last Sunday, when I wanted to watch an action movie. Watched Alien on Sunday, then number 2 and 3 on the Monday, but haven’t had the time to sit down since. So, it was definitely time for the last one tonight. Tim doesn’t care too much for this one, but I quite liked it. So far, my favourites are Alien vs. Predator (maybe because that was the first one I watched?), Aliens (no. 2) and then Alien Resurrection (no. 4). Now I’m off to bed to dream about scary monsters…

Prepping

So, here's me documenting myself, having just decorated the gents' in the church with pages from the sports' sections. Isn't that what everybody does on a Saturday night?

Observations

Last week was the 65th anniversary of D-day, which for obvious reasons got some attention in this country. Of course, in Sweden, we have nothing like that to remember. I guess the closest thing we get is celebrating the death of Charles XII, who died fighting the Norwegians in 1718 (which happens to be pretty much the only year in Scandinavian history that I for some reason can remember). I am, however, using 'we' here in a very loose sense, since it has mostly been various 'nationalists' who have claimed the day as their own. Enough about that! But it is also interesting to follow the debates that have been in this country, whether the British should remember and commemorate the wars and their heroes more than they do. Personally, I'm not taking a stand in the debate, but I watched the memorial day service on TV last November, and was very moved. War is, luckily, for me such a foreign thing. (And I thought to myself that I can't even imagine living in a country which is in war - and then I suddenly realize that I do!) But I actually do appreciate all the memorial monuments that can be found across town. Take my bus trips into town, for example: If I take the no. 2 bus towards Marylebone I pass the Australian and the New Zealand War Memorials (for soldiers in the two world wars), the Royal Artillery Memorial, the Machine Gun Corps Memorial, the Animals in War Memorial, as well as the Wellington Arch and Marble Arch (for the Napoleonic wars). And if I'm on the no. 88 bus towards Camden I pass the Cenotaph, the Crimean War Memorial, and (my favourite) the Monument to the Women of World War II. It's quite a number, in other words. But I like them - they are part of the city's character and its history, but hopefully no new ones shall be needed.

Offended

Well, I guess I shouldn't be upset, but I still am. After going out with some of Tim's old friends last night (Tim, however, had to go out for a business dinner - after already having had two lunches!) I still needed to get some work done before going to bed. So, in order to stay awake, I decided I needed some sugar, and that the best option was to buy some sweets in one of our corner shops, just by the bus stop. I found myself a bag of winegums and went up to the counter to pay. I was a bit tipsy, but nothing bad, and was my usual cheerful self (?) and asked the old Indian man behind the counter how he was doing. He smiled back, and asked if I was having some munchies. I replied that I had to stay up late, and just needed something sweet. But when I went out of the shop I was secretly annoyed that the man had questioned my eating habits - thinking I was a pig who had a large bag of sweets at 22.20 at night (I might just be, but that's not for him to comment on). I told Tim the story when he got back home an hour later. And that's when Tim explained to me what the munchies actually mean: getting hungry after smoking weed! (Well, obviously my English slang vocabulary isn't good enough - or possibly I'm hanging with 'the wrong people'.) I'm shocked! As if being called a fat pig wasn't bad enough - being taken for a junkie is definitely worse (although, seeing my own tired face in the mirror, I could absolutely see myself being taken for a crack whore). I just want to hide today!