The Hedgehogs Think It's Spring But I Beg to Differ
The hedgehogs here in Sweden have ended their hibernation. Since the daytime temperatures have been higher than normal (9 C instead of -5C), they think it's spring. Tulip shoots have sprung up in my apartment building's garden. Even some of the plants on my balcony are looking a wee bit greener. I, however, find it hard to believe it's spring when I still feel just as sleepy as I did when winter first began and I am cold all the time.
The past week has been hectic. A lot of work and not enough time to do the things I'd like to do. I haven't even had a chance to go to my Ki-Balans/Yoga passes. Well, tomorrow looks to be a slow day so I think I'll go to the lunchtime Ki-Balans session. Then I'll have lunch at Como and go home and get some writing done.
But I really do wish it were spring--then I'd know that summer is just around the corner. I don't even know why I bother longing for summer when fairly often Swedish summer is extraordinarily disappointing and marked with rain, rain and more rain. I guess I am tired of wearing heavy winter clothing. It would be nice to be able to go for a walk without having to wind a scarf around my neck. I long for a day or two when I can wear sandals.
So here I am, looking at another gray day in Stockholm and longing for sunshine and heat. Maybe it's time to plan a trip to Italy.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Thursday, February 14, 2008
John Mayer said his girlfrind's body was a wonderland...my brain is not a wonderland...it is sandpaper...
This has just not been a good writing week for me, which is driving me crazy. On Monday, I wrote a list of scenes I need to write or revise. I figured this was the best way to make some progress. I actually started two of the scenes--and I told myself, "Piece of cake! You'll have them whipped into shape by Thursday!"
I forgot I had deluge of translations I'd agreed to work on this week. They began streaming in late Monday afternoon. The first batch was six three-page documents, which didn't take so long to finish. Tuesday was more of the same--seven rolled in, one of which was a ten-page transcript. I finished the short texts on Tuesday evening after I had dinner with my Novel Underground chicas. The transcript was a bit trickier--I had to proofread/revise it a few times and managed to send it off yesterday morning. Then I went to Kista to teach...came home, found five more texts in my mailbox, worked on them yesterday afternoon; then three more arrived just before 18:00. Gack! Finished those this afternoon.
So then I decided I would write but my brain felt like sandpaper...still does! Have I written anything? Not reallty. Just three paragraphs...
Must get better. My brain must become a wonderland...must become a wonderland....
I need more yoga.
This has just not been a good writing week for me, which is driving me crazy. On Monday, I wrote a list of scenes I need to write or revise. I figured this was the best way to make some progress. I actually started two of the scenes--and I told myself, "Piece of cake! You'll have them whipped into shape by Thursday!"
I forgot I had deluge of translations I'd agreed to work on this week. They began streaming in late Monday afternoon. The first batch was six three-page documents, which didn't take so long to finish. Tuesday was more of the same--seven rolled in, one of which was a ten-page transcript. I finished the short texts on Tuesday evening after I had dinner with my Novel Underground chicas. The transcript was a bit trickier--I had to proofread/revise it a few times and managed to send it off yesterday morning. Then I went to Kista to teach...came home, found five more texts in my mailbox, worked on them yesterday afternoon; then three more arrived just before 18:00. Gack! Finished those this afternoon.
So then I decided I would write but my brain felt like sandpaper...still does! Have I written anything? Not reallty. Just three paragraphs...
Must get better. My brain must become a wonderland...must become a wonderland....
I need more yoga.
Friday, February 01, 2008
Yoga and the art of telling someone to shut up
For the last two months I have been taking two exercise classes at Friskis och Svettis, which I guess you could say is the Swedish equivalent of the YMCA/YWCA. The classes, Ki-Balans and Ki-Yoga, concentrate on improving balance, flexibility and giving you a sense of well-being--I know it sounds New Age-y and very unKim-like but I hurt my hip a few months ago and my naprapat (or manual medicine/sports injury specialist) advised me to start training again now that my injury had finally healed. She recommended these classes to me, stressing they'd keep my hip, thigh and lower back from becoming too stiff and they'd help improve my core.
Well, I figured Ki-Yoga/Ki-Balans twice a week was okay. My work schedule is weird but I have enough holes in it to accomodate two days a week at the gym. I really like attending both classes--though I sometimes have to stop myself from rolling my eyes at some of the goofy supposedly philosophical jargon the instructors come up with. Still, they do a great job of establishing a calm, conducive environment and the stretching exercises we do have really helped--no more pain and stiffness first thing in the morning, no more limping, no more having to sit down every few minutes because I was in too much pain to walk.
Yesterday, I arrived too late to join the early afternoon yoga class at F&S on Sveavägen so I decided I'd wait until 18:00, when another yoga class (with a different instructor) would meet at F&S behind NK. I usually don't go to F&S City--I am not sure why...I think it's because I like Annexet on St. Eriksgatan, F&S Karolinska Institute and F&S Sveavägen so much. All three are convenient and the changing rooms are spacious. F&S City just seems too crowded. Anyway, I managed to get the last ticket to the yoga class and was really looking forward to getting started. I'd felt stressed all day and thought an hour of relaxing music and stretching was just what the doctor ordered!
I grabbed a mat and situated myself near the back--I hate being right in the front. Initially, there were only two of us in the back row. About two minutes before class started, two teenagers arrived and plopped down beside me. I should have known from the giggles and beeping cell phones they'd be pains in the tookas. As soon as the lights were dimmed and the instructor turned on the music, the teeny-boppers began stage-whispering and squealing and giggling and making it difficult for me and the woman to my left to hear what the instructor was saying.
Several times, the instructor reminded all of us (though her comments seemed more directed at the teeny-boppers) to be quiet and listen to our breathing and to what our bodies were telling us as we stretched. This made the teeny-boppers squeal even more. I tried to keep my patience but they were really getting on my nerves. I shushed them twice, they stage-whispered even more. Someone else shushed them--their cell phones beeped in response, triggering yet another fit of squeals and giggles.
Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. The inner grouch in me emerged and hissed at them to shut up--not in polite Swedish, but in thorny, I-am-in-a-foul-mood-now American English. It did the trick. Their squeals ceased, giggles no longer spilled out of them and clouded the room--and everyone else seemed to let out a sigh of relief--or where they simply practicing their breathing and listening to their bodies? Who knows? All I can tell you is that I could finall hear what the instructor was saying and I was no longer distracted and annoyed by these two girls.
By the way, I never did make it to Umeå. I had too much to do and I kind of figured I wouldn't go. I shall wait for the next Kings of Convenience gig. Hopefully, it will be in Stockholm or someplace I am more interested in visiting. Until then, I will listen to my KoC CDs and dance around my apartment. I'll play a little Maria Mena in between and maybe even throw in a bit of Novastar and Neffa.
And I will wait for a little more sunshine because Stockholm is one rainy place this winter.
For the last two months I have been taking two exercise classes at Friskis och Svettis, which I guess you could say is the Swedish equivalent of the YMCA/YWCA. The classes, Ki-Balans and Ki-Yoga, concentrate on improving balance, flexibility and giving you a sense of well-being--I know it sounds New Age-y and very unKim-like but I hurt my hip a few months ago and my naprapat (or manual medicine/sports injury specialist) advised me to start training again now that my injury had finally healed. She recommended these classes to me, stressing they'd keep my hip, thigh and lower back from becoming too stiff and they'd help improve my core.
Well, I figured Ki-Yoga/Ki-Balans twice a week was okay. My work schedule is weird but I have enough holes in it to accomodate two days a week at the gym. I really like attending both classes--though I sometimes have to stop myself from rolling my eyes at some of the goofy supposedly philosophical jargon the instructors come up with. Still, they do a great job of establishing a calm, conducive environment and the stretching exercises we do have really helped--no more pain and stiffness first thing in the morning, no more limping, no more having to sit down every few minutes because I was in too much pain to walk.
Yesterday, I arrived too late to join the early afternoon yoga class at F&S on Sveavägen so I decided I'd wait until 18:00, when another yoga class (with a different instructor) would meet at F&S behind NK. I usually don't go to F&S City--I am not sure why...I think it's because I like Annexet on St. Eriksgatan, F&S Karolinska Institute and F&S Sveavägen so much. All three are convenient and the changing rooms are spacious. F&S City just seems too crowded. Anyway, I managed to get the last ticket to the yoga class and was really looking forward to getting started. I'd felt stressed all day and thought an hour of relaxing music and stretching was just what the doctor ordered!
I grabbed a mat and situated myself near the back--I hate being right in the front. Initially, there were only two of us in the back row. About two minutes before class started, two teenagers arrived and plopped down beside me. I should have known from the giggles and beeping cell phones they'd be pains in the tookas. As soon as the lights were dimmed and the instructor turned on the music, the teeny-boppers began stage-whispering and squealing and giggling and making it difficult for me and the woman to my left to hear what the instructor was saying.
Several times, the instructor reminded all of us (though her comments seemed more directed at the teeny-boppers) to be quiet and listen to our breathing and to what our bodies were telling us as we stretched. This made the teeny-boppers squeal even more. I tried to keep my patience but they were really getting on my nerves. I shushed them twice, they stage-whispered even more. Someone else shushed them--their cell phones beeped in response, triggering yet another fit of squeals and giggles.
Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. The inner grouch in me emerged and hissed at them to shut up--not in polite Swedish, but in thorny, I-am-in-a-foul-mood-now American English. It did the trick. Their squeals ceased, giggles no longer spilled out of them and clouded the room--and everyone else seemed to let out a sigh of relief--or where they simply practicing their breathing and listening to their bodies? Who knows? All I can tell you is that I could finall hear what the instructor was saying and I was no longer distracted and annoyed by these two girls.
By the way, I never did make it to Umeå. I had too much to do and I kind of figured I wouldn't go. I shall wait for the next Kings of Convenience gig. Hopefully, it will be in Stockholm or someplace I am more interested in visiting. Until then, I will listen to my KoC CDs and dance around my apartment. I'll play a little Maria Mena in between and maybe even throw in a bit of Novastar and Neffa.
And I will wait for a little more sunshine because Stockholm is one rainy place this winter.
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