This is all very random

I was really terrible at taking pictures when I was home; I'm not blaming the fever, but it might have been the fever. (Ok, I just blamed the fever. The fever can have it.)

Anyway. Here are a few random photos that make me happy, in no particular order.

Being in Sweden means catching up with as many friends as possible, as many times as possible. This trip was no exception, although there is little documentation of the social events I attended. Luckily, some of my very best companions are selfie-addicts; thus, I can at least prove that I got to spend some time with these lovely creatures:

My faithful sisters in crime, how I miss you (and your little saplings) when I'm away!

Christmas Eve was rainy, as tradition has it, but the weather gods kindly offered a couple of crisp, cold, snowy days after that.

I'd say it qualifies as a White Christmas, especially seeing as this guy suddenly showed up at our doorstep:

Hullo, fellow Frost!

When I wasn't out frolicking with snowmen and childhood friends, most of my days in Halmstad revolved around yummy treats like these:

The not-too-shabby view from my sickbed (i.e. the living room couch):

Biathlon! For those who don't know, Swedes can't get enough of it. It's a genetic disorder we share with the Norwegians.

This year we didn't bother with putting the Christmas gifts under the tree until about 10 minutes before it was time to open them. I just kind of forgot about it (damn you, fever!). I have to say that mine had the prettiest labels, though; handcrafted by yours truly.

Yeah, and Gothenburg was pretty too.

Ok. That's all, folks. You can go home now. (Damn you, fever!)

Bittersweet memories and an American classic

The past week was... interesting. It's Sunday evening and I'm completely exhausted, physically as well as emotionally. High highs and low lows; I've had some amazingly good times and fun encounters, but they've been mixed with severe anxiousness, frantic frustration and plain ol' sadness.

Yeah. This lady is singin' the blues.

That being said, Friday was one of the most magical nights out I've had in this city (and that says a lot), although technically it was a farewell party. Without going into detail, there are certain memories that will be kept deep inside my heart for a long time to come; equal parts thorn and feather.

Saturday was spent recuperating at the Frayos, drinking glögg, decorating their tree, eating freshly made Christmas cookies, sipping on wine, nomming down dinner, watching Elf and snuggling with Cian.

One of the highlights was getting a very special Christmas present. I've started working on a bucket list with things I want to do, see and experience before I eventually leave this part of the world; even though it breaks my heart just thinking about saying goodbye to Seattle, I've got to be rational and make sure that I'm not missing out on unique experiences by being in denial. Therefore, the list includes activities ranging from seemingly trivial endeavors to more adventurous enterprises. The gift from the Frayos might perhaps land in the former category rather than the latter, but it doesn't make it less precious.

On my list was: eat a Twinkie. This super processed, nutritionally horrendous sponge cake with "creamy filling" is an American classic; an "an icon of junk-food snacks and guilty pleasures", and I had not yet had one. So, Shani made sure that I could cross that item off the list.

How it was? Well. Pretty terrible, I have to admit. Nonetheless, "Eat a Twinkie": check! (In case you were wondering, Shani's sweet cookies were several orders of magnitude better.)

Sunday started with work from 7 to 11, but things improved radically after that. Most importantly, Seahawks kicked some Californian butts, knocking the 49ers out of the playoffs. (Hah!) Had a fun time at 9 Mill watching the game, making friends and enjoying the overall holiday pleasantness.

 
Monday and Tuesday will be a ticking clock, counting down the hours, minutes and seconds until I get my behind in the airplane seat and head eastwards. I have a ton of things to wrap up at work (and at home) before I go, however, so there will be no downtime to talk of.

Better that way, says Melancholy Molly.

Ducking and dodging (and kissing)

The past week was quite eventful with several birthday festivities and other social gatherings, leaving me a little behind when it comes to reporting my doings and dealings. Nevertheless, I simply must give a short recap of last Tuesday, when I had the pleasure of joining a friend in the boating community at the committee boat for the Tuesday night Duck Dodge sail race on Lake Union.

This is a true Seattle tradition, currently on its 40th year, where boats of different classes compete in four heats. As the boats finish, they raft up together with the committee boat at the middle of the lake and joyous celebrations ensue, including among other things fraternal/sisterly sharing of Jello shots in various radiant colors.

This Tuesday the theme was "pajama night" and my captain friend Lia had therefore built a floating bed on a barge, complete with mattresses, pillows and multicolored lights, from which her comrades and I enjoyed swimming in the lake, watching the race, drinking, snacking and chatting away, neatly dressed in our jammies. A fantastic evening!

I should probably mention an interesting little tradition as well, that apparently applies to all newcomers at this race, or "virgins" as they (we) are called, namely going from boat to boat after the raft-up, kissing all the captains.

...

Yes.

...

I debated the matter with myself for a little while but eventually decided that upholding naval traditions is in fact quite important, and thus embarged on the mission accompanied by an awesome lady and fellow Duck Dodge newbie named Lindi. I figured that when all is said and done you're only a virgin once, so what the heck...

I have to admit though that we didn't quite realize what we had gotten ourselves into, but thirty-six boats later we actually finished the task. Quite proud of myself, to be honest; those were a lot of beards, I tell ya.

Lindi, myself, and Captain Lia.

The floating bed, as seen from above.

The raft-up.

To sum up: it was one of Those Nights. A really, really memorable, super fun, and kinda sorta magical night. All thanks to Lia!

3

...happy horses in the quiet countryside (one hiding behind me).

A flashback to November 24; a much appreciated break from city life, courtesy of my warmhearted colleague Mark and his wonderful family who invited me to their ranch in Stanwood for pre-Thanksgiving celebrations.

Nerding out

Enjoy math? And Simpsons? ...maybe even Futurama? Then you're most likely a geek like me, and should definitely check out the new book by Simon Singh; a science author/journalist with a PhD in particle physics who visited Seattle last Thursday to give a talk about his new baby, The Simpsons and Their Mathematical Secrets. Having much enjoyed two of his previous books, Fermat’s Last Theorem and The Code Book, I eagerly joined my fellow Comic Book Guys in Town Hall to hear his lecture.

My verdict: Fun! Interesting! Curious! In fact, I took the opportunity to chat with the author for a couple of minutes after everyone left the auditorium, which certainly added to the whole experience.

I should do these things more often!

Skyping with my youngest friend

He: ...I wasn't born yesterday, you know.
I: Yes you were.
He: ... DAMMIT!
I: You watch your language, little boy!
He: Moooooooooom!

Welcome to the world, lil pumpkin - I can't wait to meet you in person! (Oh, why is October so far away?)

My warmest congratulations to the new parents. <3

The Love Boat

The banquet yesterday was a fun event with lots of brainy women, and I made at least one new FHCRC connection that I will make sure to follow up with shortly. Besides the networking, the inspiring talk from award winner Sheila Lukehart, and the scrumptious food, simply being at the MV Skansonia itself was a treat. The old ferry was beautifully furnished and decorated, and the view over Lake Union and the Seattle skyline no less than spectacular, either seen from inside through the portholes or outside on the deck.

It's no surprise that many couples choose to tie the knot at such a neat location; this embellished portal manifests the romantic potential rather well.

Luckily, I don't have to worry about such silly things as I'm clearly already married to science. (Or at least to radioactivity. WHICH IS AWESOME.)

Yeah!

Hanging with the hotshots

Tomorrow (today, in Sweden) I'm having an appointment that may well be the most important one in my career, so far. Please direct some good vibrations and happy thoughts this way, to help me make a good impression on some really influential people. My future in Seattle may depend on it!

(And Sofia, you know what to do; I seriously need our shared brain tomorrow, so try to keep your deep thoughts to a minimum. Thanks!)

Where young people go to retire

If you like a good snigger but haven't discovered the TV series Portlandia yet I highly recommend a quick peek, for instance on SVT Play. And if you feel like burying yourself in flannel, facial hair, homebrewed beer, and moderately overpriced locally produced eco-friendly holistic (somewhat dented) artisan sourdough bread, well then you should do what David and I did last Sunday: jump in the car and take a day trip to Portland, Oregon.

Never mind my satirical tone; although I only spent about five hours in this hipster haven it was certainly enough to realize that I would love to go back for further exploration, preferably in the summer.

During our short stay David and I managed to enjoy a hearty brunch, do some tax-free shopping, walk along the waterfront to the Saturday (sic) market and browse around for a while before going to Voodoo Doughnut.

I am by no means a devoted donut consumer, but David assured me that if I ever should indulge in a deep-fried, calorie-packed sugar bomb extraordinaire this was the time and the place. I wasn't difficult; we bought ourselves some coffee and entered the winding line that lead to the store. The queue actually started under the pink sign below, then went all the way to the left and finally back to the entrance again. And that was just to get inside... A popular place, to say the least.

Standing in line has positive side effects, though; this photo was taken by a gentleman from California who was in town for a quick business trip. A really nice fellow who gave us his card and promised us a guided tour of San Fransisco, should we go there.

Once inside, David decided to surprise his colleagues with a Monday treat and bought a whole box of goodies. (Kiss ass!)

For me, the multitude of forms and flavors was completely overwhelming and I panicked slightly when it was my time to order. David indulged in a Bacon Maple Bar (um... yes, that's bacon and maple frosting) and I ended up randomly picking an Old Dirty Bastard, with chocolate frosting, crushed Oreos and peanut butter (the messy one to the right of the bacon bar).

My verdict? Not that bad. No, actually: it was really good. But I sure didn't need any dinner when I eventually got home to Seattle... Calling it "filling" would be an understatement.

All in all, it was a lovely little trip! Hope I get to go back soon.

"We were just gone for a few minutes."
"A few minutes is like a few months in dog years."

Every woman to her taste

Before we hit the road to Canada, Anton, Patrik, and I met up with some friends at the HopScotch Beer & Scotch Festival in Fremont. As many of you know, neither beer nor whiskey are among my favorites but luckily there was plenty of wine and hard cider for me to try instead.

As a fun bonus, a photo booth was set up in a corner where people could choose from a number of accessories and get their picture taken and printed as a souvenir. Naturally, we had to try it out.

On the lower right I'm posing with an extremely well-clad guy who taught me how to taste scotch properly (despite my initial objections) and I can honestly say that it wasn't bad. Not bad at all, actually. (I must have been under kilt influence. Holy cow, how I love kilts!)

The best things come in small packages

At last! On Sunday I finally got to meet baby boy Cian. Scott picked up Patrik and me and drove us to the hospital where Shani waited for us with the little guy wrapped like a burrito. He slept most of the time we were there, occasionally stretching and making funny little noises, but reluctantly opened his dark blue eyes before we left.

He also managed to impress us with some really cool faces.

This guy knows how to pose for the camera. Bye for now, little one! I'll see you again soon.

Santa baby

The best thing about Christmas? Kale!

Er... Okay; kale and being reunited with loved ones. And if you're really, really lucky, you get to meet some new dearies besides the old familiar faces. Like Diana's adorable baby boy, sleeping quietly in the arms of his excited "aunts". Matilda, Viveca, Karin, and I are jealous and proud.

The radiant mother and little Wille. Makes you never want to leave Sweden again.

 Fortunately, they have kale in Seattle too. (A quantum of solace.)

A weekend to remember - Part II

Sleeping really wasn't one of the activities Sofia, Lena, and I engaged in during their visit, so when we woke up at 6 am on Saturday morning we decided to get an early breakfast at Roxy's Diner across the street instead of being tired or hungover from the wine tasting. The main event of the day was enjoying Pacific Northwest Ballet’s Stowell & Sendak Nutcracker at McCaw Hall together with my Costa Rican comrade David. The evening started out with dinner downtown, but for some reason wine wasn't at the top of our wish list this day. So what did we do? We aimed straight for the cocktails, of course! (Before we left the restaurant we also had some tea and coffee to prevent unwanted drowsiness.)

The ballet was fantastic; everything from the Tchaikovsky score to the mind-blowingly seamless transitions between scenes. We were completely stunned! Except perhaps for the point when one of the backdrops got stuck half way up in act II... To the audience's great joy only the bottom parts of Clara and the Prince were visible when they travelled on their golden boat. Eventually, the scene had to be retaken, after lots of laughter and cheering. Being a great fan of children's book author and illustrator Maurice Sendak I could not help but get lost in the beautiful designs he had made for this production in 1981, which have been used since. Simply gorgeous.

After the show we had planned on going barhopping in Capitol Hill, but truth be told, the three Swedes were rather tired. All of us silently wondered how on Earth we would be able to stay awake more than an hour or so... It turned out not to be a problem, really.

David waved down a cab and before we knew it the four of us were sitting at a table at Barca, sipping on some truly fine drinks made with equal parts love and skill. Well, sipping might not be the correct word; "gulping" is perhaps more appropriate. One drink became two, which became three...

There really is no good way of capturing the rest of the evening in writing; I'll just say that we had a BALL. We danced at gay bars, surrounded by half naked men on pedestals hypnotizing us with impossible dance moves; we crammed ourselves into a photo booth in a Mexican-themed subterranean lounge basking in red light; we tried all kinds of drinks, good and bad (and worse), and chatted with strangers and locals everywhere we went.

Finally, we ended up at an after-party with some newfound acquaintances; the host probably being the lousiest boy scout in history, trying to light a fire in his fireplace using one big log. No, not any big log: The Biggest Log. Ever. (It did not succeed.)

Eventually, even this fantastic night had to end. After yet another cab ride my head met my pillow at around 5:15. The world spun around me, but not in a bad way; I'd say that it was 50/50 between alcohol and pure joy.

Thanks are always due after an evening like this, and without David we wouldn't have known of either the ballet or the Capitol Hill nightlife. He completely spoiled us in every way, making this Saturday a real treat. Thank you!

Vanilla Ice Ice Baby

Before I go to bed I must share another fun thing that happened today. I'm planning on baking an apple pie for the Thanksgiving dinner on Thursday and decided that custard would complement it nicely. Went to my local PCC store (which I absolutely love, by the way) and looked around for some vanilla flavoured yummyness. But alas! No such yummyness was to be found. After browsing around for a while I asked for help by a girl that eagerly took on the task. We looked among the dairy products, by the baking supplies, in the freezer and among the cakes. No custard. Only weird puddings and organic oddities.

I finally told her that I might just get some vanilla ice cream instead (secretly thinking that I should go find my custard in another store), and she wondered what kind I would get in that case. "Some really good vanilla?" she asked. When my answer was yes, she reached into the freezer and picked up a pint of really fine, locally produced Snoqualmie Danish Vanilla Bean All Natural Ice Cream ("Handcrafted in small batches for people who love ice cream"), wrote "SAMPLE" over the barcode and handed it to me, saying that I should try it. Just because she couldn't find me any custard!

Only in Seattle, my friends, only in Seattle... The friendliest town I've ever been to. How I love it!

Meta

Awkward, yet flattering: Minimalist Street Fashion.

I just found me a brand new box of matches

I've been yearning for these glossy babes since last fall, when I reluctantly concluded that they were too costly for my budget. Today, I'm delighted by that decision, as I just bought them for less than two thirds of the Swedish price.

But it wasn't just economics that made my day. No, the deal was sweetened by yet another encounter with the generous Seattle spirit, and I left the store with a big smile on my face and a blanket around my heart. (I love this city.)

Are you ready boots? Start walkin'!

A nice Russian face

My administrative adventures are still far from over, and today's mission was to head down to the Social Security Office to apply for a social security card. Let me tell you this: I was far from disappointed by the diverse characters joining me in the waiting room. I won't bore you with details on aggressive men, toothless women, metal detectors and armed security officers, but instead focus on a handsome, suit-clad old man who set his eyes on me as soon as I entered the room. I sat down next to him, and he leaned over and asked me (with a very Hollywoodesque Russian accent) "Do you speak any Russian?" "No, I'm afraid not", I answered apologetically. He then excused himself, saying that he thought I was Russian and added "You have a nice Russian face".

I've been thriving on that comment all day.

Could it be the bun?

Oh, and I'll get my social security card in two weeks. Yay me!

Being social

Today was a day of socializing with strangers. I started out with happy hour at the Hutch, where I was rescued by a mirthful bunch from Development as I stood bewildered on my own among closed groups of beer drinking postdocs. It turned out to be quite fun! Next, I went to the University District and got kissed on the cheek by a somewhat scruffy looking fella who insisted on escorting me across the street. He seemed happy, so I chose to laugh about it instead of being grossed out. After having dinner at the lovely Araya's place (alone, not with the scruffy guy) I headed home to Fremont. On the bus I was approached by an older man from Chile who kindly provided me with his best recipe for frying fish. Why, thank you sir, that will be useful.

What social interactions will tomorrow bring as I discover the allegedly "colorful" area known as Capitol Hill? My guess is I will enjoy myself.