Where the hell is my towel?

In a shameless emulation of another far less bewildered traveller, I give you the highly accurate account of my year in Uppsala, Sweden. Like the great man says, persons attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be prosecuted; those attempting to find a plot in it will be banished; those attempting to find a moral in it will be shot.

Wednesday, August 02, 2006

I am mainly not dead

Having arrived at my Intensive Swedish Concentration Camp class an hour early (despite the long and bewildering walk from Flogsta), it would logically follow that I would use this time to put down all of the strange and tedious invasions of personal space I have endured over the past seventy-two hours. I am fully aware that my dear and faithful readers have been sitting at home, hitting the "Refresh" button again and again, their feeble hearts palpitating with anticipation of my first post from Sweden. Was the flight long and boring, you wonder. Was the food bad, and made of industrial solvents and fried hair? Was I singled out for extra scrutiny at every security checkpoint? Did this extra inspection involve the groping of genitalia, on the off chance I was smuggling plastique in my scrotum? Logic would dictate that these questions must be answered. However, logic cannot follow the crazy map they gave me at Studentstaden, and got lost somewhere around the six-way intersection of Karlsrogatan and Dag Hammerskjölds väg. Also, I am a lazy bugger and just can't be arsed right now.

This I will tell you, and it is of the greatest importance:

"Jag ar så otroligt full" means "I am so unbelievably drunk." However, if you remove the second "l" from "full," it means "I am so ugly, I can hunt caribou using only my face."

Also, fuck Heathrow. Fuck Heathrow with a rusty shovel. The last thing you want to do after thirteen hours in a pressurized aluminum tube, surrounded by screaming babies and fragrant fat people is pack into an endless line to go back through security again. "But we just got off a goddamn plane," I said to the security guy. "Are you worried we built something out of the goddamn plastic forks or what?"

Anyhow. I probably won't have teh intarwebs in my room till the end of the month, so no pictures until then. I have a temporary login ID which only works on one specific computer in one specific room in one specific part of the Kemikum Fysikum. Which I guess is where I am now. Will attempt vaguely regular updates, but no promises.

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