Today is Mathias' birthday and unfortunately he has to work. He had been so tired last night that he had gone to sleep by 8pm but for some strange (but lovely) reason, he work up 3 hours later and stayed up to welcome his birthday at midnight. I guess we both realise that this is special for us cos we have never celebrated each others' birthdays together before. We have always been in 2 different parts of the world so it held great significance to us.

5 min to midnight, I snuck away to the kitchen to make up something cos silly me didn't think to prepare a birthday cake. We didn't even have birthday candles. Silly me...

So I took one of the vanilla cupcakes I had made on Saturday, plopped a round scoop of vanilla ice-cream and spritzed whipped cream on top. I then drew an outline of a star with chocolate sauce around the little vanilla tower of sin I had made. Too bad I didn't manage to take pictures of it cos it was pretty. But husband liked it so much that he quickly ate it up. Simple yet he appreciated the gesture so much. So sweet.

Imagine our surprise as we were eating that little cake, I switched the TV on Mtv and a minute later, they started playing that JayZ song, Birthday (or is it 50 cent?? I can't remember). Mathias was so surprised and I started singing along. How appropriate!! And right after that song, they played 'Pretty Fly' which was just as appropriate seeing how nerdy and silly the husband can be. Ha ha! Just kidding...*wink*

For lunch today, he got to decide and he wanted to eat garlic prawns with rice. I had never made that before but I found the recipe and made 2 dishes for his birthday lunch. Stir fried garlic prawns and Spicy Chicken with cashew nuts (but without the cashew nuts). It turned out FANTASTIC! Especially the chicken dish. The prawn dish could have used more garlic and a little less vinegar but all in all, it was SUPERB for a first try. No pictures again cos it was so good that we couldn't wait. Ha ha!!

And who can have a birthday without a birthday cake right? Baked my first full sized round butter cake with chocolate frosting. I still remember the last time I tried to make frosting. I was in secondary school I think, and for some strange and crazy reason, I decided to make it blue. Let's just say, I've regretted some of the things I've done in my life and that blue frosting is one of them. Horrible colour and horribler taste! But this time, the cake turned out great and the frosting was fun to do. Even though it took a little more work, I had fun baking the cake and making the frosting and actually frosting the cake which is a lot harder than it looks. But the cake is full sized and seeing that there's just the 2 of us at home, I decided to send the cake to his workplace. Today it is an all boys' working day seeing that the only lady who works there has her day off today. So I think the cake might be enjoyed a lot more there. Will post the pics soon.

Praisie says I'm such a homebody now and in most ways, she's absolutely right. But I really enjoy cooking so much. My talent for cleaning has not improved an iota, I tend to forget to do laundry until the basket is over spilling with dirty clothes and don't even talk about the toilet with me (I've decreed cleaning that to be husband's job) but damn if my food isn't good. My kitchen is usually spotless and the cupboards brimming with things I've baked.

If only my friends and family could be here to enjoy the baked goodies too. I miss being surrounded by the people I love. But at least I'm next to the one I love the most. So I guess that's a great consolation.

Since moving to this small town of Askersund in the middle of Sweden, I've been able to indulge in my interest and some may call passion, much to the husband's enjoyment.

Since my school days, I've always enjoyed cooking. My gang of school friends have always been subjected to the cooking whims and experiments of me and my dear friend, Sar. It's always a matter of meeting up either at my house or Sar's house one afternoon where we will have a little hang out 'party' in which we try out new recipes or just repeat old successes. I've always thought that Sar was the more taented and 'brave' one, willing and usually very successful in whipping up greatness in a plate. My gang love the food we make and to be honest, I LOVE and MISS all those parties we had where we would cook, watch TV and just hang out. And during our Uni years, to also help babysit my niece, Sofia, which they seemed not to mind too much.

But now I turn to the husband as my guinea pig and enjoy it he has. Some of the experiments of cos turn out bad sometimes, especially when I am unfamiliar with a particular ingredient and am unable to gauge properly the impact it would have on the overall taste of the dish. Or how some dishes may or may not be compatible with others.

Sometimes I manage to take pictures of my creations but mostly, they're just captured by the strange and sometimes faulty camera I have in my mind.


I made chocolate muffins for the Christmas party that the Sjöberg clan has every year. These muffins are a little different in that I place a Lindt chocolate ball in the midde of every muffin before I put them to bake so that when you bite into it, gooey chocolate will ooze out. Mmmm--yummy! I then topped it with some vanilla cream just cos it tastes so good. Since I had no clue of what a traditional Christmas celebration in Sweden is like, that is my safest and thankfully only contribution to the festivities.

Since then, I have increased my portfolio of successful baking creations:-

These are gingerbread cupcakes that I made after husband dearest kept whining about how much he loves gingerbread cookies and how good gingerbread cakes taste. So I took the midway road and made these.
He LOVES these...


This is not exactly what I would call a baking success. What is it exactly, you ask? Well, it's supposed to be chocolate dipped shortbread oatmeal heart cookies. The hearts were tough to cut out and they shapes tended to expand and misshapen in the oven so it ends up not looking like hearts at all. If you thought this cookie looks bad, you should have seen the cookies cut out in the shape of a man...or rather the crooked woman that it turned out to be. Still tasted good though.

This is my virgin bread bake and it turned out surprisingly FANTASTIC!! I made these cos the husband likes sandwiches as do I. And unlike most bread recipes I've seen, these were relatively easy to make. They turned out beautiful and golden brown, with a slightly sweet taste to it. I call them simply my Tasty Buns. But next time, I might reduce the sugar content just a tad so that it would taste more of a sandwich bun rather than a sweet roll.






Yesterday, husband had a sudden craving to make a Swedish treat that we call Chocolate Balls. To me, they are nothing but candy but he is quick to disagree. Anyway, he started on this on his own so technically this is his cooking success although it is actually a no bake ball. That is why it is a successful bakeless ball. The white stuff on the ball is actually coconut flakes. But he did make some with pearl sugar cos I don't like coconut much.

It is Friday today and we had decided that Fridays are special. We do something special and I generally try to make something special for dinner too. Instead of the usual chicken ham sandwich in between tiny pieces of bread or the traditional Swedish hard ass bread that seems to me to be more like crackers than bread, I try out a new recipe or make a favourite dish of hubby's.

So today I was confused. I knew I wanted to make something with chicken but what??! Since I was chatting online with dear friends Cheryl and Francine, they helped me to decide on a nice glamed up sandwich. So I baked some chicken pieces with Dijon Mustard marinade and whipped together Honey Mustard dressing for the sandwich.

Husband got very excited by my Subway inspired sandwich and we got baguettes and cheddar cheese, shredded the chicken and popped it into the oven so the cheese could melt on the bread and the chicken would sink into the melting cheese. YUM! Topped it off with lettuce and it was a great Friday night meal as we watched the Swedish version of Dancing with the Stars.

How cosy.

It's official now. I'm going to start school in almost 2 weeks. The first Monday of February will be the day I step into a whole environment and start on a daily routine that will hopefully take me out of this whole mentality that I am still on holiday.

Time for real life to start.

As husband had said, this would probably make the whole marriage thing feel more real and feel less like a honeymoon. Which gives me mixed feelings. I want to be free of this honeymoon period bcos it does not feel real. It feels too much like a fairytale. But I also don't want it to end cos you only get a honeymoon period feeling once in your marriage. At least most people do.

My best friend told me that her honeymoon period felt pretty much over after about 3 months cos of work commitments, school commitments and just the daily grind of life. I think that's how it is in life. The big wedding, the wonderful honeymoon in some exotic location and the glow of happiness from spending the first few weeks living together as husband and wife. Then slowly and without warning, both the man and woman go back to work and start on the daily grind and that glow seems to dull just a little. Level of dullness seems to depend on how hard you are willing and able to work on the relationship.

I was watching an episode of Oprah the other day and there was a couple being featured and how their relationship had evolved from the efforts made to keep the intimacy and the glow hot and bright. The wife realised one day that they had drifted apart and their sex life had deteriorated a lot. With 2 small children always seeking attention and full time jobs, there was just very little time to spend on each other. But she decided one day to stop all that and make an effort. And an effort she did make.

Candles, hot baths, hot oils, massages and soft music. It was the works. And she did that bcos she wanted to and not to please her husband. She wanted to seduce her husband and have him make love to her. Not just that night...but almost every night since. It had been 3 years since she started her conscious effort and she's gone on to taking belly dance classes, strip tease dance classes and massage courses. All in the name of a better relationship, a better marriage and be better parents.

How it lead to be better parents? Well, she said that the increased intimacy they enjoyed naturally made them more affectionate with each other in front of their children. And when the children sees Mommy and Daddy happy, they naturally become happy kids.

Sounds kinda logical.

A good thing we don't need to do that just yet. I need to start school first. How exciting!!

To my good friend , Francine, congrats on your news grl!! I'm not gonna say what news it is because it is her news to tell. And no, it does not include anything coming out of anywhere in 9 months or so. I can't wait to see you in June! Hopefully everything pans out for you!

It's pretty much over. As quickly as it had descended its plague upon me, the pneumonia seems to have dissipated, leaving me relieved, confused and still pretty phlegmy.

It happened on Friday, I think. I felt as terrible as usual that morning and was still feeling tired and drawn come lunchtime when Mathias came home. But for some unexplainable reason, the fatigue, the gassiness and the dizziness quietly disappeared in the afternoon, and by the time Mathias got home from work, I was ready to jump him.

And it has stayed that way.

Of cos I still get tired more easily than if I was healthy but nothing close to the misery I had been feeling the last week. I don't get the pains that plagued me and left me bed bound and uncomfortable.

So I am extremely pleased. So pleased in fact, that I decided to bake bread for the first time. I always thought that baking bread can be tough. So many factors to consider...yeast, resting time, draft free zones, kneading, rolling, bun or loaf, size matters even baking time.

But I did it...I had very successfully baked buns to eat on Friday. The husband had freshly baked bread to eat for his dinner. Ooh...it suddenly feels like one of those children's tales of farmers and fresh buns. The buns came out golden and soft and it tasted a little sweet like those butter rolls. So next time I will reduce the sugar but for my virgin bread bake, it came out BEAUTIFUL!

I'm so proud of myself. Buns today..a whole loaf tomorrow and BEYOND!

I read recently about a new fashion statement that is apparently gathering steam among many Swedish handimen. When I think of a man who works with his hands for a living, be it plumber, carpenter, builder..I think (in my glamed up, highly romantic mind) of dark skin, rippling muscles, strong and rough hands, jeans or overalls and a hard hat or two. But recently, a company has designed a functional, sturdy yet (apparently) trendy kilt for the men to wear on the job.

Yes, people, a kilt. What the average non-Scot would call a SKIRT. The MAN SKIRT. It is reported that the Swedish company had produced such outfits initially as an experiment and it has paid off. Read the report..you can actually see what the man skirt looks like.

Seems to me that EXTREMELY confident men are abound in Sweden. Extremely confident men in need of cooling work wear.

I get dizzy spells, nausea, headaches and feel as bloated as a blowfish having an anxiety attack. I have diarrhoea and I burp every 5 minutes cos I'm so full of gas. I'm just glad that the gas escapes up the front and not the back. That's the husband's job.

So much for little miracles.

I think the new, stronger antibiotics that the doctor has put me on is wrecking havoc on my body. I do have more energy now and I'm not like the rag doll I was, just lying in bed and no strength to even lift my head much. My cough has subsided substantially and the phlegm attacks are fewer and far between. But the first time I took that new medicine, Mathias read the information paper in the box.

Possible side effects? Diarrhoea and sensitivity to sunlight. And under no circumstance except strict orders by the doctor should I take this medicine when pregnant. And if taken without food, it WILL cause nausea. Apparently with me, it doesn't matter cos it causes nausea anyway. Ugh..hai, well at least it didn't list anxiety, brain damage or death like some of the medication I had taken over the years of my colourful life.

I am a generally warm person, and a fever for me would mean a temperature of above 37.7 degrees celsius. Husband finally got us a thermometer on Saturday and so we tested it out. His temperature read normal at about 36.7 degrees C. According to him, that is his normal body temperature. Ok, so I accept that. Everyone has a different regulating body temp. I wasn't feeling great at the time and we thought I might have a fever, but imagine our surprise when my temperature read a dismal 35.5 degrees C.

What?! Wait...that can't be right. So we tested it again and it read a 'much' higher 35.7 degrees. This is so strange. I don't have a fever but what do you call a 2 degree drop in temperature? Mathias thinks that maybe it's due to the cold weather so the body temp also drops. Perhaps...but by 2 degrees?

That's very strange to me. But then again, this whole pneumonia episode has given me symptoms that are things I do suffer from time to time...but never all together at the same time. That is just my body being cruel to me. And it freaks me out.

But at least I'm not bedbound all the time now. Thank goodness for small miracles.

Do you know what is one of the worst things to hear from your parents? The kind of thing that will make you cringe so hard you think you can never open your eyes again?

Bedroom secrets.

That's right...things that your mummy and daddy used to do (or worse, still doing..) in the bedroom behind closed doors. Things that should FOREVER remain behind closed doors. There should never be an open door policy for such things. NEVER!

Sure, you can discuss the birds and the bees with your children. Sometimes it's needed and sometimes it's just morbid humour but it is ok, in my opinion.

But for the sake of the child's psychological future, please never NEVER use specifics. You know, like mentioning the male population and their genetilia in a general fashion rather than mentioning daddy's winky (worse if you point out the man as he passes by). Or like dad trying to say men like to look at women's breasts by saying mummy's t**ts look great, don't they? UGH!

Why this rant and rave about parents and their choice of discussion topic?

Obviously because I have had the unfortunate luck of slamming into THAT topic with MY mum when I least expected it. With me being married, I have come to realise that my mum feels it a tad easier to talk about such things with me (whoopee-doo! someone bring out the confetti..). And such occassions, though still rare (thank God!) remain a bane to my existence simply because as much as I love my mother, we do not share such a bond that allows for such topical discussion! Such bonds are sacred and seem to exist mostly between me and girlfriends. Never family. NEVER mother! Most definitely not MY mother.

But today, I called home just to say hi and check how things are. And I told my mum that I'm sick and she gets all worried and tells my dad..blah..blah..blah...so far so good. And then silly me decides to tell her MORE of my suffering here and I mention that I get bad backaches now.

Why? WHY??! Why the heck did I ever mention backaches to her? How can something so simple suddenly turn into something so...so wrong?

She asks, Backaches? Oh dear, you know when we next see you I really should get your dad to teach Mathias this trick.
(So far, I'm still thinking innocent thoughts and wondering, ooh..what magical trick is this that will help with my backache? Some home remedy?)
So I ask, What trick?
Mum: Well, this was something your dad and I used to do in the bedroom. (Uh oh, I think) When you and Mathias are done being together (ah, such old school euphemism), tell him to use the heel of his foot and place it on your below.
(By this time, my mind comes to a schreeching halt. WHAT??! Wait..did I hear correctly?)
Me: Wait...what? Uh..what? Could you repeat that? (Why the heck did I say that?!)
Mum: (impatient sigh) Tell Mathias to use the heel of his foot..
Me:What? His heel? Not mine? Are you sure this is for my backache?
Mum: Yes, yes! It works. It relieved my backache. (Oh God...) So tell him to use his heel and push it down into your below..
Me: What? Ugh...my below??
Mum: Yes, of cos your below..you know, your flower.
(Oh god, my ears are ringing, I swear I'm seeing stars and it's not from the medication. So I decide to just let her ramble on and have this episodic mental torture pass me by)
Mum: It does wonders for your back. You really should try it. It's good for your flower too.
Me: Gee...thanks Mum. We..We'll see...

This brings me back to the beginning of this nightmarish conversation when she said that she'll get my dad to teach Mathias. I'm not sure he will actually do it. For the sake of our mental health and marriage, I sure hope not.

But I am glad that husband is right of mind enough to laugh, in that creeped out, I can't believe what I'm hearing way, and say that will never happen. Both the act and hopefully the lesson from father in law.

I feel worse today.

I was coughing til I threw up last night and the smell of Axe oil that Mathias used on his tummy before bed made me feel so nauseous I had to lie on the sofa to get away from him. The poor guy was so miserable cos he thought he made me feel miserable that he was running around trying to wash his tummy clean. When he got it clean, he put some moisturiser that I used cos he thought I would like the smell but it just made me even more nauseous.

Poor guy. He looked like he was ready to cry.

Felt really out of it this morning and I kept drifting in and out of sleep during the morning after husband left for work. sometimes it felt like my chest was really heavy and I found it difficult to breathe. Mathias told me to lie down on propped up pillows so it would be lighter on my chest and lungs.

I couldn't make lunch, wash the dirty dishes or do laundry. All I could do was lie in bed and managed to shower with some dofficulty. It is a cold day for me and husband said that I had a fever when he came home at lunchtime. Could hardly eat lunch and ended up munching on toast.

I feel sick...really sick. UGH....

I have been in denial for a few weeks now. Deep deep denial.

Despite the deep throated coughs that seem to originate from somewhere in the pits of my lungs, the unexplainable fatigue that makes me sleep all day or lie in bed watching bad TV, the nasty nasty gooey yellow stuff that gets forced out by my gut wrenching, body shaking coughs and the excruciating headaches that leaves me napping for 3 hours while I had my in laws out in the living room, I still refused to accept the fat that I am sick.

Mathias tried as hard as he could to convince me in both English and Swedish, but Dian being Dian, I just didn't want to go see a doctor. Until last night that seemed to freak husband enough to actual act on his own and call the doctor today to schedule an appointment. According to Mathias, my breathing sounded really bad, I had been tired all day and my body ached enough to make me take my headache pills that also act as a tranquilizer just so that I could sleep through the night.

So today, I went for my very first doctor's visit. Mathias called me in the morning to tell me that he had arranged for a doctor's appointment today at 2pm. With resignation I agreed to go with him cos I was still in denial and thinking that it will go away on its own.

The doctor's office is just down the street from our block and it is actually part of someone's house (the doctor's I presumed). The only thing that distinguished that place as a clinic was a small sign by the window. So we entered into a small room that had coathangers and chairs that we presumed to be the waiting room.

There were 2 doors of which one was the toilet. Mathias very tentatively knocked and opened the unlabelled door to peek in. He quickly shut the door again and said it was a kitchen. Next to that door were stairs leading up with 2 doors at the top. Husband didn't want to go up but at my insistence, he ran up halfway and announced that there was nobody up there cos the lights are out.

Hmph, I laughed to myself, scaredy cat.

His solution was to just take a seat and wait cos the doctor knows we are coming at 2pm. This baffled me. Shouldn't we at least let the doctor know that we are here so he knows to attend to us when he is available? Where IS the doctor? Does he have a nurse? Don't I register myself somewhere??

I know this is Sweden and a different country means different procedures, but it's ridiculous to just come into an empty room, sit down, wait and hopefully someone will eventually come to attend to us. So Mathias finally decides to knock on that kitchen door once again and this time, a rather elderly man opens the door and identifies himself as the doctor. Ah...finally!

So we walk through a small kitchen and into his tiny doctor's office in the back. It almost looks like a blast from the past for me. Behind his small desk, books covered the wall ceiling to floor and he had a typewriter on his desk amongst other paraphernalia. I would call his office/museum very quaint and it didn't matter to me cos he is still a doctor. In the middle of the room was a bed where he checks his patients and another bookshelf filled to the brim with hand written patient files. How very traditional looking, I would say.

The doctor was a very nice man who tried to make me feel comfortable and whatever he couldn't explain to me in English, he would turn to the husband for translation. But the doctor did get concerned when he learned that I had had my cough for weeks and it is getting increasingly worse. He told us that it was very good that we came in when we did cos I was very very close to contracting pneumonia. And that had been Mathias' concern too as pneumonia can leave on bed ridden for weeks. and neither one of us wants that.

Right now, I had some infection and inflammation in the bronchitis and lungs (is that the same thing?) and I need to take some antibiotics and some phlegm dissolving tablets. But he is apparently concerned enough to insist that we call him back in 3 days to update him on my conditon, whetehr good or bad. If the antibiotics are not effective, he will put me on something stronger but for now this should be sufficient.

Ok ok... so husband was right and wife was wrong. He is allowed to rub it into my face for tonight. I sure hope this irritating cough goes away.

I was invited to the grandparents in law last week for tea and even though I had to go there alone (husband was at work) along with the mother in law, I had a pretty good time. It's tough interacting with people when there is such a language barrier but we get by with me nodding along and trying to catch words here and there. I get really frustrated with myself cos I simply cannot capture the words when it's spoken so sometimes to understand a particular word they are trying to say to me, I ask them to spell it for me before I get it. And then when I finally understand what they are trying to say, I feel like kicking myself cos I know the word! I just can't capture the meaning when spoken out loud!

IDIOT!

Amazing how big an ass I make of myself when I already have a mega one attached to my rear.
I feel so so frustrated when I have to interact with people now because people can't understand me and vice versa. The amazing thing is that English is apparently one of the 2nd languages and is taught in school from about age 10. And even though I totally understand their reluctance to interact and inability to fluently converse in English cos it's not usually utilised (therefore very rusty English), I still feel frustrated. FRUSTRATED, FRUSTRATED!

I know, I know...I've only been here a little more than 2 months and I shouldn't be so hard on myself. But the frustration just builds. And builds and builds. People are generally nice..the ones I get to encounter and interact with...which can be a rare occurence. But with any uncomfortable situation, people tend to shy away and it's the case with both me and these new strangers I meet. We're both uncomfortable with the fact that we hardly understand each other so I can't say what I want to say to them and they tend to speak with the one they can understand, my husband. while I am left to remain silent by his side, smiling like the fool I feel.

I know that I have been in this same language difference situation before and I had managed to flourish, if I may boast a little.

But this time, it feels different. the whole situation is different from before. In Thailand, I had people who are eager to talk to ME. People who are happy to get to know me, speak to me and who do not shy away just because we don't understand each other.
I guess it's really a case of you scratch my back and I scratch yours. I encountered interested people and I became interested in them. I found eager friends who took pains to understand me so I became eager and I took great pains to understand them.

I have yet to find such friends here in Sweden.

All I can do for now is sit and try as hard as I possibly can to understand a language where the lexicon and syntax is so far removed from what I know that I get tired from just trying to pronounce the number 7.

I feel removed from friends and family, I feel removed from the general local population and I'm not exactly sure what to do. Mathias gets the brunt of my frustrations and I pity the man.

I pity the fool who married me and moved me far, far up to the North.

Can you feel the angst dripping from my every pore?

The great PS chase began on an unexpectedly busy Sunday afternoon. The husband and I had decided the night before to finally get the drilling done by Monday so that I can redecorate the dinky bachelor pad he once had into that suited for a man married to a HIGHLY sophisticated big city girl. So of cos the girl insists on heading to IKEA for even more shopping (did I mention that we had already gone for a shopping spree a few weeks before??) to which the husband reluctantly agrees to.

The man ALWAYS reluctantly agrees to such ideas by the wife but enthusiasm surely infuses through him by the time she is done recreating the image in her head into reality.

We had a lot of things to get done by Sunday and we had to closely watch the clock as most stores close by 5 or 6pm. Not only did we need to get the drill to get the drilling done (husband had refused regardless of countless previous requests, to simply borrow a drill from a neighbour first just so we can get the drilling done), we had to go to IKEA to get the necessary items and of cos husband wants his birthday present from me, the elusive PS.

What is the PS, you ask? Well, for his birthday this year, I decided to get him PlayStation 2. You can imagine the glint in his eyes when he found out and the glee in his voice when he spoke of finding it. But it would prove to be a much more difficult task than we had thought.

Who would have thought that PlayStation 2 would be THE Christmas present of 2007? Everywhere we went to, there was no PS2 to be found. And these were not tiny electonic stores that we are talking about. We went to 5 different major chain stores, the kind that occupy a large part of the building and yet even they had no more stock of this elusive game console. After 5 stores, I was ready to call it quits and wait another 2 weeks before we can get it for him. After all, his birthday is at the end of the month. But of cos, the boy at heart refuses to give up hope and convinces his wife to visit just 1 more store before he would call the chase dead. Note; by this time, I had called the chase dead 2 stores ago cos we still hadn't gone to IKEA and I was getting MIGHTY nervous.

We didn't quite find exactly what we wanted but it was what we needed. At the very last store, we found a small pile of colourful boxes screaming 'Monster Grumble Junior PS2'. It was the PlayStation 2 console which also included a game and the attachments that come with it. It was slightly more expensive than if we had gotten just the console but we got it anyway since it did come with a game plus attachments so the worth of the bundle worked out.

So there we had it. The long awaited PlayStation 2, drill and IKEA stuff all bundled into the back of the car and 2 very excited people who are smiling for different reasons.

Ah...men and women are definitely made different.

It started snowing on New Year's Eve. I was so excited and happy that I would start my new year surounded by white snow.
Mathias told me that every year, there will be fireworks shot up into the sky from the harbour down the street. I was so excited but then I remembered that we will be going to the house of Jessica, Mathias' sister for a small gathering which would also include my in laws. Well, I am ashamed to admit that I was a little disappointed by the fact that we have to drive an hour to a place where there might not even be snow. And to think of fireworks by the harbour!! Oh!
But we had a good ride to Karlskoga, where she and her family lives. My father in law tried teaching me Swedish tongue twisters and I ended up confusing the old man by my confusion. That was fun.
But I do have to admit that there are a lot of sounds in the Swedish language that I simply can't pronounce well. That deep guttural sound that originates from within your gut just remains in my gut. I'm slowly starting to realise that pronounicing Arabic words are a lot easier for me thn Swedish is.
I realise halfway to Karlskoga that it had turned midnight in Singapore and how my friends and family must either be celebrating or sleeping. How I miss my friends...I really miss just hanging out with my best buds from school, from work at our favourite places. It's been a little tough here cos it's a tad more difficult making friends here when I'm in the house most of the day or else the people around me are old people who don't speak much English. I guess for now, the biggest barrier is the language but I'm sure I'll get over that. I just need to keep telling myself that it will take time. But I'm starting school very very soon so I guess I'll meet people there and hopefully make a friend or two.
Anyway, back to New Year. In Sweden, people celebrate the New Year with lots of fireworks. You can buy fireworks from the store and find an empty field (lots of those here) to fire them. That was so much fun to watch! Mathias, father in law and brother in law were in charge of firing the fireworks and Noel, Jessica's son, was in charge of staying a distance away with me to protect me. Yeah..we had to tell him that story..he's only 5.
Then we had a nice dinner and just chatted (mostly them. I tend to be very very quiet during these moments. Unless I'm being addressed. I know, very boarding school proper). We also played this very fun game called BUZZ on their Playstation 2. I had a lot of fun too even tho it was ALL in Swedish. As a matter of fact, it was so much fun that I'm getting Mathias a Playstation 2 for his birthday. That os a very very expensive gift but I think he's wprth it and we both love it anyway so it's really a gift for both of us. But of cos with every decision comes sacrificed. I had to sacrifice RiverDance tickets which would have been so so much fun to go to but seeing how much more fun we can extract from PS2 for a longer period of time, I think it's worth it. Mathias was extremely surprised by my decision to get that for him. But of cos he's in charge of buying all the games and he's fine with that. I get the foundation and he builds it up. Heh heh...I think that's an excellent compromise.
The New Year countdown began and for the first time, I am standing with my husband looking out the window at other people's fireworks (many tend to shoot prematurely. I think they're mostly excitable men). I think 2008 will be an exciting year for me with so many new experiences, both good and bad.
I wish all my friends and family the best for 2008 and I miss you guys to bits. Thinking of all of you aLWAYS even though I may not be calling you guys all the time.