in the waiting line

i feel like i've been asleep for two days. I had a week's grace between my last cold and this one, and bang, i'm the latest victim to this round of illness that circulates through my corridor and my friends with the speed and contagiousness of the Black Plague (except without, of course, the attendant mortality rate). My concentration span is shot to shit and I've got all the motivation of a slug on a damp bed of moss. All i can do is make myself endless cups of tea, swallow the vitamin tablets provided by Nikki and Sohani, snuggle up in bed with Ingmar Bergman's autobiography and wallow in self-pity.

Today I was meant to be going on an excursion with my Introduction to Scandinavian Culture and Society class all around the Oresound region. My poor Intro class, it's always that one that suffers when i decide to pike. It would have been good and i'm semi kicking myself that I didn't go, since it would have been pretty awesome and i would have learnt a lot and travelled to Denmark and to copenhagen, gone on a ferry, seen some fully sick museums, etc, all for $40. But I have my two first serious assignments due next week and if I keep up this level of despondency I will be turning in 15 pages of plagerism. Anyway, je ne regrette rien, as that french bird sings. Plus, I'm going to Russia. That's right, RUSSIA. (please bear with me as I try and justify myself to myself)

Two fantastic terms have been coined in the last few days which are very applicable to my life:
Spartafterparty: the act of having an afterparty of massive proportions at the student residence Sparta.
Kannelbulleism: the wanton and reckless consumption of Kannelbulles, the moreish Swedish cinnamon and sugar scrolls.

Life proceeds as normal - well, as normal as it can get - and i am finding bits of joy in the small things in life. The percolator in the kitchen and the way it distills two cups of lifegiving coffee for me every morning. Having a hot shower every morning. Learning Swedish by watching Friends and reading the subtitles. Riding my new bike through the falling autumn leaves. Riding my bike on the left side of the path and fucking with the order-loving collective consciousness of the Swedish people who can't understand what's going on.

Last night in Swedish Film class we watched Ingmar Bergman's "Fanny and Alexander". I am having a bit of a headcrush on the old Ingmar at the moment, and he would be quite a romantic possibility if he wasn't pushing 80, a manslut and lived on a deserted island with only sheep and his custom-built cinema to keep him company. Fanny and Alexander is apparently one of the best movies ever made. My personal problem was that it went for five hours. After about the 3rd hour I got restless, and by the end i was convinced that it was just an epic piece of self-indulgence. I haven't done anything for 5 hours at a stretch recently that wasn't sleeping, so maybe that was partially the reason for my frustration.

I am also attempting to write an article on "The Swedish Sin". It's part of a competition for the international students, the winner receiving not only fame/glory but also two pizzas from the local pizzeria. This has stroked my competitive side which has laid dormant for so long. I am trying to work out what the Swedish Sin is. There's a bit of literature saying that it's the lax attitude the Swedes have towards sex/sexuality. I reckon there's more to it though. We'll see how it gets along. If i do end up writing it, i'll put it up here.

I feel a cup of tea calling. Peace out lovelies.