In medias res
1.
This airport is connected by long winding passages. In spite of the significant size of Arlanda, which holds its ground, if not to monstrosities such as Heathrow and O'Hare, then to many other airports, both in Europe as well as the US. The odd thing with Arlanda is that there's no air-train. You have to walk if you wish to switch terminals. Carts are free however, and there are lots of handicap services for those that need it. I walk, and in spite of the people and the many stores, the train platform (for trains into Stockholm and Uppsala and other Swedish cities) there is a sort of calm, futuristic air in the place, much like the feeling you can get in a William Gibson novel.
My luggage is lost, due to delays on behalf of United Airlines, back in America. United is always late, so I'm not surprised. I give SAS the address where to send my stuff, when they track it. In William Gibson's Pattern Recognition, the protagonist, Cayce, claims (while traveling between America, Europe and Asia) that it takes a while before your soul catches up with you, and that is part of why you need to hit the unconsciousness of sleep so often and at odd times. You're not wholly there yet.
I mentally calculate that my luggage will catch up with me before my soul does, but not by much.
3.
My luggage catches up with me the same day I'm about to see my god daughter and her family, for which I'm glad, because I had presents with me for them.
Sitting across from my oldest god daughter who lives in southern Sweden, watching her impish smile and her stubborn teenage chin, makes me realize that we deposit fragments of our souls into various places and people that mean something to us around the world. And so, even though my soul hasn't really caught up with me yet from across the Atlantic, I still get more whole by sitting where I am. It's like a power nap. My god daughter's mom has the same effect. They are both beautiful.
5.
Easter dinner. I've made duck, dilled pressed potatoes, wine sauce and grilled young asparagus. A Tolkien society friend of mine has recently won Swedish Master chef and mom and I have been watching all the episodes on internet stream service. She's very charismatic on camera, and as I've actually cooked with this woman myself, I feel inspired to cook a big fancy meal for my family for Easter. I compose and cook all the courses and they turn out not only tasty but also surprisingly lovely to look at (just like how Sigrid describes her own food on tv, my food is often tasty, but not always pretty).
Old Jacob comes to dinner. Last year I learned that he has put me as the soul heir in his will. It makes me anxious and aware of his health in a way that I wasn't before. He looks healthy and takes seconds though, so I relax. Damn my parents for telling me about that crap.
6.
My friend Kejn and I are in a car on the road in a rainy and gray Southern Swedish afternoon. The car has mysteriously broken down for us once, and forced her to call her brother to come look at it. This is not typical for her faithful old Mercedes which recently went through a checkup flawlessly, and her brother thinks something just got stuck in a filter. We dare to go on, and onto the highway, on our way to have afternoon tea with two old friends of mine who live in a small village in the countryside. Kejn looks good, healthy and lean, with a previously unseen (at least to me)hint of steel in her otherwise mild demeanor. It suits her. She has conquered some hardship in the last year or two, all on her own.
I'm more subdued nowadays, with the shadow of low mood and melancholy present for those who know where to look, and Kejn is a little more forceful and chatty than her commonly introverted self. This gives a new balance to our talks, with an extra level of enjoyment added. It's good to see her.
7.
My mom asks me again, for the third time this visit, if it was really worth it to move to the US. She never fully realizes the scale of such a huge and complex question and I know that whichever answer I give her, it will make her even more anxious. She always tries to keep it together when she sees me, and she never manages to. Sooner or later it comes down to this same question, over and over, which I can never answer, whether I'm happy or sad. It's a question quite beyond happiness and sadness. I'll never be able to explain to her how oddly insulting it is too, to hear it. I do, I am, I've done, I've chosen, that should be enough, until I do, I become or I choose something else, whereupon I'm sure new questions would occur.
In my defense, I am kind to her, in spite of not answering.
8.
My old role playing group is gathered, run by my ex. We play Call of Cthulhlu, a campaign which has existed for well over a decade, even though it's been dormant in periods. Last year we decided to see how it felt to play again, and to my genuine delight, everybody slid seamlessly into their parts and we had great fun, just like in the old days. So, we've agreed to meet and play a couple of times a year, or as often as I'm visiting. We laugh a lot, there's always been a good chemistry in this group.
9.
Wine and food with friends at So's. So and Hansen are old friends and they've invited 4 other old friends. There are geological layers of faces, places and happenings here, which are poked at a little bit, but mostly we talk about the future, and a little about politics. The food is as always, very good. Many of my friends could be in Master chef, I've known this for ages. So's youngest child, her daughter Siri has talked about my arrival for weeks apparently, and throws herself at me when I arrive. I always get a bit surprised when some kids like me, probably because I certainly only like some kids and not just any kid. Siri is easy to like, she still remembers the pony song I taught her a year ago, I'm impressed.
10.
Another gathering with culinary friends. Orc and Katarina are even members of Uppsala culinary society. This time they outdo themselves with oysters, marinated and grilled frog legs (wich truly *do* taste like chicken), smoked shrimp, various fantastic salads, roast and fine booze. Emil, a friend I don't see very often is there too, along with more familiar faces. We talk and play games, good times. I play a terrifying zombie game on Wii, with astounding amounts of splatter and gore and get all sweaty from kicking and beheading monsters. Good grief the adrenaline!
11.
My two scifi ladyfriends Tommen and Lena and I are meeting up at Hotel Claryon's brunch buffet at noon this Sunday. I am supposed to be early and hold a good table while Lena picks up Tommen at the train station. With these girls it's always easy. We just pick up where we left off pretty much, and we always have a good time, even when the energy is low. The brunch is a bit pricy, but worth it, since it's a well stocked buffet, and they don't kick us out no matter how long we sit and yap. We talk about Lena's job angst, Tommen's dating angst and my own whatever angst. 3 hours run by, and we leave, to go shopping and then to Lena for dinner and further geekery. I've brought the bizarre British show "Misfits" to introduce to them, because I know they'll like it. This was a girl-day, but we state that we should revive the bigger scifi group watching tradition again, with other friends. I may not be able to catch many of those, but I'm glad I can hang out with these girls when I'm in the country.
12.
I've cooked Boef Bourguignon for my childhood friend Halina and her family. I live with them this week. Cooking this dish always makes me think of Julia Child, and of the film Juile and Julia, where Julie screws up Julia Child's recipe by falling asleep on the dish. I don't however, and we all enjoy it. Halina is the only one in the world whom I can truly talk to about family issues. She has some similar family dynamics to mine and we've known each other since we were 3 years old. It hits me with full force, on such times as these, how lucky I am to have such a person in my life. Such levels of understanding. I guess some people may have this with a sibling, but since I don't have siblings, she comes pretty damn close.
If she could only get over her fear of flying and come visit me in the States one day.
15.
Northern buys me Sushi on my last Wednesday in Uppsala. We spend a day in town walking and talking and eating. She claims I've bought her many lunches and now it's her turn, but I can honestly only remembered all the times I've been to dinner at her place. My friend Northern is recovering from a divorce last year, where her ex wife moved out. I like them both and hope fiercely for the best. Relationships are not for weaklings, for sure. Northern looks good though, more vital than I've seen her in a long time, and with a hint of caution in her personality where that trait has been lacking before. It suits her. With some people there can bee too much caution, it gets dull, but with my friend's occasional rash impulsiveness, this new trait gives depth and anchoring to her already very character filled persona. With her, I sometimes regret not living closer, people can fade for her, if they aren't immediate to her view. Still, we are here, and it is good.
17.
This day is very full. I have a lunch with Laffe, So and Mille, and then a dinner with Grzm and then I take an evening plane to my friend Palle in Jönköping at 8.30 p.m.
I walk into town with a backpack. There are big wet flakes coming down, true April weather which makes me glad I have the purple cap that Palle knitted for me last Christmas. I usually think I look kinda retarded in caps, but this one works surprisingly well, I only look quirky. This lunch is nice, and I regret that I haven't been able to see more of Laffe and Mille. There are people I haven't had time to see at all though, on this visit.
Grzm is an old geek computer programmer friend of mine, whom I usually stay with for at least a few days every visit. During my recent school semesters in Sweden I stayed with him quite a a bit, which oddly worked out, to his grumpy old bachelor's surprise. This is our last dinner together for this time, we chat in a light way, neither of us likes farewells. He is on his way to a rpg evening and I to my short evening plane ride to Palle.
18.
My friend Palle came to visit me in the US in 2010 and we took a great road trip to Yellowstone and did other things too. I try to see her every time I'm in Sweden, even though she doesn't live in the metropolis of the Uppsala/Stockholm area, nor in Skåne where my family is. Either she comes to Uppsala or I come to her, this time it's my turn to visit her.
Jönköping is situated by Sweden's second biggest lake, Vättern. Palle and I walk along the lake shore into the city center and then back, the day turns out to be quite beautiful with sunshine and a light breeze. I tease her that she'll have to abolish the nickname "rainmaker" previously granted me (most of the times I've visited her it's been raining in Jönköping. I suspect this is a natural phenomena connected to the big lake, but Palle likes her nickname for me). We will have a film night with Palle's friend Esme, so we rent a Guillermo del Toro thriller, since Palle is insanely fond of horror flicks, even though they mess with her head every time. I force her to also rent the latest Miyazaki Anime so that we can calm down with something after the frights. The film rental store is famous for its aisles upon aisles of self-pick candy. It's a very classical Swedish thing, this obsession with excessive varieties of candy to choose from. People usually don't believe me when I say that America has nothing on Scandinavia when it comes to candy assortment.
19.
I say good bye to Palle and we decide to Skype with each other on the next Friday. I go back to Uppsala in a tiny propeller plane, a smooth, uneventful 50 minute ride. Back at Halina's place I discover that the motion sickness pill combined with the wine during the farewell dinner they are holding, is making me loopy and sleepy at the same time. I will miss them all. I prepare myself for temporarily losing my soul again, soon.
20.
A Child is crying somewhere in the middle rows behind me. He is a furious 2 year old making the crying sound like war and rage and pillage. An elderly lady in the row ahead of him puts her hands over her ears and closes her eyes.
It's not a full flight, so I'm one of the lucky ones, having no one beside me, and able to unload some of my stuff in the seat next to me. A Swedish book called "Fire", the sequel to the 2010 success "The Circle", which is just now getting translated into English and some other languages. It's the perfect airplane book; able to engulf you in plot without giving you that common acid reflux of cliche or the abrasiveness of bad language. Straight into the vein in a good way. I'll need it.
Somewhere in the midst of it, when my eyes are tired of text and I can't sleep, I coax myself to watch one of the movies. The Descendants, one of the Oscar movies that me and a friend had the ambition to watch but never got to. Thank the stars for the Hawaiian angle and for Clooney's big dark eyes and earnest edge when he holds his last speech to his comatose wife, otherwise the film would be no different from any other Hollywood movie dressing down as an indie, with its slightly off beat dialogue, little pauses to look "European" and kids saying weird shit that they never say in real life. Not an abrasive movie, but still, I'm glad I didn't see it on the big screen. Here, in the dusk of an airplane with a whining toddler in the background, the attempted originality, the forced silences and the depressive mood seems oddly soothing.
20.1.
American ground, Newark. A very loud sort of airport, which I'm familiar with after years of layover time. Still, they have a sushi place, which may be new, or previously unknown to me, I wish I'd encountered it before I had that burger at Ruby's. I contemplate having a $15 glass of wine in a wine bar, just because their black leather armchairs look so divine, and I could probably sit and write or read my book in comfort, sucking on that wine for at least an hour, if not more. I decide on walking, however. There will be another 4.5 hours of sitting still to endure soon enough. At the gate, after walking up and down the terminal several times thoroughly, I get a phonecall on my American cell phone, which is now turned on for the first time in 3 weeks. It's Zombie, a lj friend who's turned rl friend since a few years back. We chat for a bit in spite of the obnoxiously loud PA system Newark has, making me miss Arlanda airport in Stockholm, with its much calmer more organized pace, in spite of also being rather large. The talk ends when I realize that United is getting weird delays as usual and doing odd gate-switches. Hating united is nowadays almost like hating a family member. You're sort of stuck with them, they are everywhere, owning almost everything in the US. But when you switch to other airlines, outside of domestic flight, you're struck by the realization that other people's family members are much nicer, and on time.
With a sigh, I prepare myself for the last long haul and whichever delays it will bring (2 hours). It will be a good while before my soul catches up with me and I'll want to talk to people again.
This airport is connected by long winding passages. In spite of the significant size of Arlanda, which holds its ground, if not to monstrosities such as Heathrow and O'Hare, then to many other airports, both in Europe as well as the US. The odd thing with Arlanda is that there's no air-train. You have to walk if you wish to switch terminals. Carts are free however, and there are lots of handicap services for those that need it. I walk, and in spite of the people and the many stores, the train platform (for trains into Stockholm and Uppsala and other Swedish cities) there is a sort of calm, futuristic air in the place, much like the feeling you can get in a William Gibson novel.
My luggage is lost, due to delays on behalf of United Airlines, back in America. United is always late, so I'm not surprised. I give SAS the address where to send my stuff, when they track it. In William Gibson's Pattern Recognition, the protagonist, Cayce, claims (while traveling between America, Europe and Asia) that it takes a while before your soul catches up with you, and that is part of why you need to hit the unconsciousness of sleep so often and at odd times. You're not wholly there yet.
I mentally calculate that my luggage will catch up with me before my soul does, but not by much.
3.
My luggage catches up with me the same day I'm about to see my god daughter and her family, for which I'm glad, because I had presents with me for them.
Sitting across from my oldest god daughter who lives in southern Sweden, watching her impish smile and her stubborn teenage chin, makes me realize that we deposit fragments of our souls into various places and people that mean something to us around the world. And so, even though my soul hasn't really caught up with me yet from across the Atlantic, I still get more whole by sitting where I am. It's like a power nap. My god daughter's mom has the same effect. They are both beautiful.
5.
Easter dinner. I've made duck, dilled pressed potatoes, wine sauce and grilled young asparagus. A Tolkien society friend of mine has recently won Swedish Master chef and mom and I have been watching all the episodes on internet stream service. She's very charismatic on camera, and as I've actually cooked with this woman myself, I feel inspired to cook a big fancy meal for my family for Easter. I compose and cook all the courses and they turn out not only tasty but also surprisingly lovely to look at (just like how Sigrid describes her own food on tv, my food is often tasty, but not always pretty).
Old Jacob comes to dinner. Last year I learned that he has put me as the soul heir in his will. It makes me anxious and aware of his health in a way that I wasn't before. He looks healthy and takes seconds though, so I relax. Damn my parents for telling me about that crap.
6.
My friend Kejn and I are in a car on the road in a rainy and gray Southern Swedish afternoon. The car has mysteriously broken down for us once, and forced her to call her brother to come look at it. This is not typical for her faithful old Mercedes which recently went through a checkup flawlessly, and her brother thinks something just got stuck in a filter. We dare to go on, and onto the highway, on our way to have afternoon tea with two old friends of mine who live in a small village in the countryside. Kejn looks good, healthy and lean, with a previously unseen (at least to me)hint of steel in her otherwise mild demeanor. It suits her. She has conquered some hardship in the last year or two, all on her own.
I'm more subdued nowadays, with the shadow of low mood and melancholy present for those who know where to look, and Kejn is a little more forceful and chatty than her commonly introverted self. This gives a new balance to our talks, with an extra level of enjoyment added. It's good to see her.
7.
My mom asks me again, for the third time this visit, if it was really worth it to move to the US. She never fully realizes the scale of such a huge and complex question and I know that whichever answer I give her, it will make her even more anxious. She always tries to keep it together when she sees me, and she never manages to. Sooner or later it comes down to this same question, over and over, which I can never answer, whether I'm happy or sad. It's a question quite beyond happiness and sadness. I'll never be able to explain to her how oddly insulting it is too, to hear it. I do, I am, I've done, I've chosen, that should be enough, until I do, I become or I choose something else, whereupon I'm sure new questions would occur.
In my defense, I am kind to her, in spite of not answering.
8.
My old role playing group is gathered, run by my ex. We play Call of Cthulhlu, a campaign which has existed for well over a decade, even though it's been dormant in periods. Last year we decided to see how it felt to play again, and to my genuine delight, everybody slid seamlessly into their parts and we had great fun, just like in the old days. So, we've agreed to meet and play a couple of times a year, or as often as I'm visiting. We laugh a lot, there's always been a good chemistry in this group.
9.
Wine and food with friends at So's. So and Hansen are old friends and they've invited 4 other old friends. There are geological layers of faces, places and happenings here, which are poked at a little bit, but mostly we talk about the future, and a little about politics. The food is as always, very good. Many of my friends could be in Master chef, I've known this for ages. So's youngest child, her daughter Siri has talked about my arrival for weeks apparently, and throws herself at me when I arrive. I always get a bit surprised when some kids like me, probably because I certainly only like some kids and not just any kid. Siri is easy to like, she still remembers the pony song I taught her a year ago, I'm impressed.
10.
Another gathering with culinary friends. Orc and Katarina are even members of Uppsala culinary society. This time they outdo themselves with oysters, marinated and grilled frog legs (wich truly *do* taste like chicken), smoked shrimp, various fantastic salads, roast and fine booze. Emil, a friend I don't see very often is there too, along with more familiar faces. We talk and play games, good times. I play a terrifying zombie game on Wii, with astounding amounts of splatter and gore and get all sweaty from kicking and beheading monsters. Good grief the adrenaline!
11.
My two scifi ladyfriends Tommen and Lena and I are meeting up at Hotel Claryon's brunch buffet at noon this Sunday. I am supposed to be early and hold a good table while Lena picks up Tommen at the train station. With these girls it's always easy. We just pick up where we left off pretty much, and we always have a good time, even when the energy is low. The brunch is a bit pricy, but worth it, since it's a well stocked buffet, and they don't kick us out no matter how long we sit and yap. We talk about Lena's job angst, Tommen's dating angst and my own whatever angst. 3 hours run by, and we leave, to go shopping and then to Lena for dinner and further geekery. I've brought the bizarre British show "Misfits" to introduce to them, because I know they'll like it. This was a girl-day, but we state that we should revive the bigger scifi group watching tradition again, with other friends. I may not be able to catch many of those, but I'm glad I can hang out with these girls when I'm in the country.
12.
I've cooked Boef Bourguignon for my childhood friend Halina and her family. I live with them this week. Cooking this dish always makes me think of Julia Child, and of the film Juile and Julia, where Julie screws up Julia Child's recipe by falling asleep on the dish. I don't however, and we all enjoy it. Halina is the only one in the world whom I can truly talk to about family issues. She has some similar family dynamics to mine and we've known each other since we were 3 years old. It hits me with full force, on such times as these, how lucky I am to have such a person in my life. Such levels of understanding. I guess some people may have this with a sibling, but since I don't have siblings, she comes pretty damn close.
If she could only get over her fear of flying and come visit me in the States one day.
15.
Northern buys me Sushi on my last Wednesday in Uppsala. We spend a day in town walking and talking and eating. She claims I've bought her many lunches and now it's her turn, but I can honestly only remembered all the times I've been to dinner at her place. My friend Northern is recovering from a divorce last year, where her ex wife moved out. I like them both and hope fiercely for the best. Relationships are not for weaklings, for sure. Northern looks good though, more vital than I've seen her in a long time, and with a hint of caution in her personality where that trait has been lacking before. It suits her. With some people there can bee too much caution, it gets dull, but with my friend's occasional rash impulsiveness, this new trait gives depth and anchoring to her already very character filled persona. With her, I sometimes regret not living closer, people can fade for her, if they aren't immediate to her view. Still, we are here, and it is good.
17.
This day is very full. I have a lunch with Laffe, So and Mille, and then a dinner with Grzm and then I take an evening plane to my friend Palle in Jönköping at 8.30 p.m.
I walk into town with a backpack. There are big wet flakes coming down, true April weather which makes me glad I have the purple cap that Palle knitted for me last Christmas. I usually think I look kinda retarded in caps, but this one works surprisingly well, I only look quirky. This lunch is nice, and I regret that I haven't been able to see more of Laffe and Mille. There are people I haven't had time to see at all though, on this visit.
Grzm is an old geek computer programmer friend of mine, whom I usually stay with for at least a few days every visit. During my recent school semesters in Sweden I stayed with him quite a a bit, which oddly worked out, to his grumpy old bachelor's surprise. This is our last dinner together for this time, we chat in a light way, neither of us likes farewells. He is on his way to a rpg evening and I to my short evening plane ride to Palle.
18.
My friend Palle came to visit me in the US in 2010 and we took a great road trip to Yellowstone and did other things too. I try to see her every time I'm in Sweden, even though she doesn't live in the metropolis of the Uppsala/Stockholm area, nor in Skåne where my family is. Either she comes to Uppsala or I come to her, this time it's my turn to visit her.
Jönköping is situated by Sweden's second biggest lake, Vättern. Palle and I walk along the lake shore into the city center and then back, the day turns out to be quite beautiful with sunshine and a light breeze. I tease her that she'll have to abolish the nickname "rainmaker" previously granted me (most of the times I've visited her it's been raining in Jönköping. I suspect this is a natural phenomena connected to the big lake, but Palle likes her nickname for me). We will have a film night with Palle's friend Esme, so we rent a Guillermo del Toro thriller, since Palle is insanely fond of horror flicks, even though they mess with her head every time. I force her to also rent the latest Miyazaki Anime so that we can calm down with something after the frights. The film rental store is famous for its aisles upon aisles of self-pick candy. It's a very classical Swedish thing, this obsession with excessive varieties of candy to choose from. People usually don't believe me when I say that America has nothing on Scandinavia when it comes to candy assortment.
19.
I say good bye to Palle and we decide to Skype with each other on the next Friday. I go back to Uppsala in a tiny propeller plane, a smooth, uneventful 50 minute ride. Back at Halina's place I discover that the motion sickness pill combined with the wine during the farewell dinner they are holding, is making me loopy and sleepy at the same time. I will miss them all. I prepare myself for temporarily losing my soul again, soon.
20.
A Child is crying somewhere in the middle rows behind me. He is a furious 2 year old making the crying sound like war and rage and pillage. An elderly lady in the row ahead of him puts her hands over her ears and closes her eyes.
It's not a full flight, so I'm one of the lucky ones, having no one beside me, and able to unload some of my stuff in the seat next to me. A Swedish book called "Fire", the sequel to the 2010 success "The Circle", which is just now getting translated into English and some other languages. It's the perfect airplane book; able to engulf you in plot without giving you that common acid reflux of cliche or the abrasiveness of bad language. Straight into the vein in a good way. I'll need it.
Somewhere in the midst of it, when my eyes are tired of text and I can't sleep, I coax myself to watch one of the movies. The Descendants, one of the Oscar movies that me and a friend had the ambition to watch but never got to. Thank the stars for the Hawaiian angle and for Clooney's big dark eyes and earnest edge when he holds his last speech to his comatose wife, otherwise the film would be no different from any other Hollywood movie dressing down as an indie, with its slightly off beat dialogue, little pauses to look "European" and kids saying weird shit that they never say in real life. Not an abrasive movie, but still, I'm glad I didn't see it on the big screen. Here, in the dusk of an airplane with a whining toddler in the background, the attempted originality, the forced silences and the depressive mood seems oddly soothing.
20.1.
American ground, Newark. A very loud sort of airport, which I'm familiar with after years of layover time. Still, they have a sushi place, which may be new, or previously unknown to me, I wish I'd encountered it before I had that burger at Ruby's. I contemplate having a $15 glass of wine in a wine bar, just because their black leather armchairs look so divine, and I could probably sit and write or read my book in comfort, sucking on that wine for at least an hour, if not more. I decide on walking, however. There will be another 4.5 hours of sitting still to endure soon enough. At the gate, after walking up and down the terminal several times thoroughly, I get a phonecall on my American cell phone, which is now turned on for the first time in 3 weeks. It's Zombie, a lj friend who's turned rl friend since a few years back. We chat for a bit in spite of the obnoxiously loud PA system Newark has, making me miss Arlanda airport in Stockholm, with its much calmer more organized pace, in spite of also being rather large. The talk ends when I realize that United is getting weird delays as usual and doing odd gate-switches. Hating united is nowadays almost like hating a family member. You're sort of stuck with them, they are everywhere, owning almost everything in the US. But when you switch to other airlines, outside of domestic flight, you're struck by the realization that other people's family members are much nicer, and on time.
With a sigh, I prepare myself for the last long haul and whichever delays it will bring (2 hours). It will be a good while before my soul catches up with me and I'll want to talk to people again.
