A place in hell

Ever heard the Madeline Albright quotation that says "there's a special place in hell for women who don't help other women"? I’ve always liked it. I still do, only now I think it might mean I’m going to hell and I must say, I’m not thrilled about that.

I hate to be the kind of person that stands in the way of another girl getting ahead, I just really (really!) hate having another girl shoved in front of me when I’m just trying to get used to the thought that I might need to compete really hard to get what I want. I hate competitions. Actually I hate to lose (and usually I do) so mostly I just kind of stay away from the whole thing – I know it’s stupid. I suppose it’s the story of my life, for risk of losing I don’t get in the game and instead stand back thinking of myself as the bigger person who steps aside to let someone else get a chance, while simultaneously kicking my self for being such an idiot.

Another (stupid) saying is “good girls go to heaven, bad girls go everywhere”. Ultimately I don’t think you need to be a bad girl to get everywhere, but maybe you just don’t need to bend over backwards to let someone else pass you either?

I really don't want to be an idiot.

Right now I’m struggling to find a middle way in this because I’m finding it close to impossible, hopefully I’ll figure it out before long and before I lose more sleep over it – because good girl or bad girl, a sleep deprived girl is in this case also known as a grumpy bitch.

Hazy days

I've been writing several posts for the blog lately but nothing seems to get finished, it's like I get stuck in a mist just before it's done and then I need to start with something completely different next time. Today is not a good day to force myself to finish anything either, I'm home sick on what would have been my first real out-patient-department day and it sucks big time! I've been waiting for this, I've written to our schedule planner to please give me more days in our out-patient-department and finally the day comes and I just can't get myself to work. Todays is my second day of being sick and I'm actually a little bit better just with the fact that I'm awake. I don't really remember yesterday - I slept, woke up with a fever and tummy ache and threw up in a continuous cycle through out the day and night.

Anyway as I can't really get out of bed I've cradled up with my new best friend (OMG I've forgotten to tell you I'm finally the proud owner of a Mac!!) and done some research for the article I have to present at work in a couple of weeks. I'm finding some pretty good stuff, I just need to read up a bit about statistical terms before presenting it because right now I kind of just get half the words... The topic I've become more and more interested in the last couple of weeks is the connection between newborns that are SGA (small for gestational age) and the risk of developing diabetes. I think it fascinates me because I'm used to thinking that the risk always lays with overweight, but I know to little about it so far to say anything about how the connection actually is.

Wow, it sounds like I'm being totally productive in between my naps and projectile vomiting, well I'm not really - finding the articles took less than half an hour and I haven't really read them yet, just the abstracts. Mostly I've been reading blogs and finding stuff I want to buy (no surprises there...). So far I've got two posters in my shopping bag - want to see?

I somehow like them together - they are both about shadows but in very different ways. Not that I know where I would put them though... Hmm, buying stuff in a fever haze might possible not be the most best idea ever.

Oh, and the posters are from Fotografiska Webshop and Moderna Museets Webshop

Hello darknes my old friend

Some people start all their new endevours in January but I tend to think that the year actually starts around September. I suppose it's all my years in school. Fall equals a new and fresh start. This one isn't any different in that aspect. I have about one thousand things I want to get started with - eating breakfast, swimming, research, french, running and teaching - just to mention a few. Moste likely only one or two will stick all through the darkness and cold of the rainy november days, but that doesn't really matter, I just love this feeling of starting something new and good. The difference between this fall and many of the ones before is that I'm actually not dreading the winter as much as I usually do. Oh I still have my issues with the hollidays in December - not that I'll get into that right now, but over all I'm looking forward to the rainy days when I'll sit with a book in French not getting a word, or going to courses all over the country, or treating loads of patients sick with all kinds of cool things (I know, you need to be a doctor to get that...). I'm looking forward to going to Paris again (finally!!), then maybe a vicit from my mom or maybe I'll take a couple of days in Sweden myself, and I'm all ready planning a trip to Copenhagen for December - lot's of things to look forward to!

I can't wait until the leaves start changing, it's by far the best part of fall.

And to be allowed to cover up a bit again - knit sweaters, tights and preppy style!

Beautiful Paris in the fall - but I guess it's just as beautiful in any other season...

Tea and books - is there really anything better?

You can find the source to all the pictures above on my pintrest

Making room on the top floor

The strangest and most frustrating thing that can happen to me is having my head full of thoughts that just won't stick on paper. That's kind of how I feel tonight, but I'll give it a try seeing as I probably won't get any sleep until I've gotten some of the thoughts out of the overcrowded brain of mine.

For some strange reason the universe has thrown a full blown attack on my cowardice lately. I've been aware of it for a long time - as I've written before, and tried to do something about it but to be honest without much of an effect. Obviously it's hard to change such a core part of one self, but right now it feels closer to impossible, though I have to say that having cowardice as part of my core self doesn't sound too appealing either. Just to think that I was in Las Vegas for a night and didn't gamble once. I assumed I wouldn't win and to my astonished surprise - I didn't. On the other hand (the strong hand that always wins the argument) I didn't loose either. The really sucky part though is that in life, every time I don't gamble for fear of loosing I end up feeling like the biggest looser anyway.

Ok, so being confronted by my silly fears and my lack of courage to actually face them is one of the things that are bothering me right now. The other is the unintended homesickness I've been flushed with the last couple of days. I never really miss Sweden. I never really think about Sweden, it's just always mom, dad and the devil called my sister that I miss, but last weekend was spent in Malmö and walking around aimlessly in the city hearing the language made me realize how much I actually miss it. Then on top of that I've started to listen to an amazing Swedish singer whom more than effectively touches my heart with her words and usage of the language in a way that makes me really miss using it myself on a regular basis.

Nop, this isn't working - I'm still awake and my head is as full as ever. I got three and a half hours of sleep yesterday and I'm not intending to make a habit out of it, so I think I'll just try and sort these thoughts out tomorrow, hopefully with better luck. But before I hit the bed, here are some pics from this weekend and the amazing concert with Melissa Horn - Ah Sweden, how I miss being able to say things like "fika" and "skaffa hund" who knew I could miss such simple things...

The melted ice-princess

I don't like to be wrong. Who does? I especially don't like to be wrong about myself. I tend to think that I know myself very well, so it doesn't really sit well to find out that one of the things I've always considered one of my key trait is wrong.

It's strange but I consider myself a pretty cold person. I'm not sure friends and family would agree, but I know how much I actually keep inside and how much I censor out. I very seldom get extremely angry or (unfortunately) happy. I tell my friends a lot, but never the darkest most embarrassing and self degrading thoughts, those I keep to myself - let them grow and fester inside until I feel ten times worse than when everything started. Very healthy, I know.

This Friday I had the strangest roller coaster day I think I might ever have had - emotionally speaking. I was on the highest of high and fell subsequently to the lowest of low. First of all I am impressed by the fact that I even have the emotional range to move that much, it's good to know that no matter what I sometimes might think, I'm actually not made of ice. Second of all I'm happy (and a bit embarrassed) that I was surprisingly honest to one of my very best friends whom I kept texting until the early hours in the morning. Third and lastly I'm extremely pleased that already Saturday morning came with some leveled thoughts and insight - and best of all, I didn't break in the process. I know it's weird, I think I've only ever mentioned it to one other person before and I got some very weird looks in response, but I'm always afraid that if I ever let myself get really sad I might never be happy again. I know, it's stupid but non the less it feels real at the moment.

All in all a very interesting Friday. Who knew I could actually feel so much in such a short period of time?

The outfit for Fridays roller coaster ride

Taking the train from Malmö to Copenhagen Friday evening

Another extremely interesting fact? I always tell myself (and very often other people tell me) that I have too high standers that people can't live up, that I'll never be impressed or surprised because I always expect better or more. Well that is a lie. Some people impress and surprise in the most amazing ways - ways I didn't even have the fantasy to imagine beforehand. It's good to know, and to remind yourself when people disappoint you or other people try to lower you expectations. I smile just thinking about it.   

The lady with the red cape

As a kid you get asked who your hero or role model is, who would you like to be like when you grow up? You're supposed to say your mom or teacher or maybe a movie star. I always said my mom, and sometimes my dad, but the truth is I just didn't know what else to say. Does that sound harsh? It does doesn't it. I mean, I love my parents and I have the utmost respect and admiration for them, but I don't want to be them. I've been raised to want to be more, to aspire for more and expect more for myself.

Last week I had some classes that I found immensely inspiring. In part it was the subjects, the novelty and greatness of them, but mostly it was the professor. She is a lady of 66 years who has worked in Public Health all over the world with among others the WHO and the UN. She has worked in the field and taught classes at university and lived all over the world. She taught a class in Public Health Demography, one in Aging, one in Human Rights and one in Sexual and Reproduction Health. As I said, it might have been that these subjects are new and in my general interest, but I think she personally made them fascinating. As I was sitting there, mesmerized by the statistics (and I'm not even joking!) I couldn't help but think, "this is what I want to do - how did I never know one could work with this?" and "I want to be like her when I grow up". 

I know, it sounds like a little girl admiring her teacher and I guess it kind of is, and I've never had that before so it feels a bit silly. The thing is that as everyone who has read a single one of my posts about my work, or asked me about my current job, know that I am crazy about what I do. I love it, everyday, even at the crappy "babies-keep-forgetting-to-breath-and-kids-don't-stay-in-their-mommies-bellies-for-as-long-as-they-should"- 24hour shifts. I wouldn't want to trade it for anything else in the world, except that I would like to combine two things, working as a pediatrician and working in public health internationally. I guess I already knew it or I wouldn't have applied to the course or have been considering working with MSF for so many years, but this has made it clear that it's not just a kind of fluke, this is something that feels like when I started med.school, it feels so right.

Clearing up a misconception

There are some people that intimidate me enough to make me sound like a bitch when talking about them, it’s not a very charming personality trait, but then again I’m only human. I would like to clarify though, that my bitchiness stems solely from a twisted form of admiration. So if you fit in to one of the two types below – I’m sorry, I have most likely badmouthed you in the past or at the very least thought some less than decent thought about you.

The first type is the prissy princess that isn’t prissy at all. She’s cool and collected, smooth and elegant. She knows her wines, her art and literature and is of course an eloquent speaker that easily makes friends with all kinds of people. It’s the girl that can walk around a whole summer day in white crispy clothes and by the end of it look, well like when she stepped out the door in the morning. Her hair silky smooth and in place, her make-up pristine and not a trace of sweat or flushness on her face. She walks in heels like she were barefoot and no matter how cheep her clothes are they always look like quality garments.

The second type is the relaxed hippie girl. She’s the girl that makes backpacking and sleeping in a tent for a Woodstock-type of festival while looking great seem like the easiest thing in the world. She’s mellow and easygoing, talks to everybody and gets intimidated by nobody. It’s the girl that rocks cargo pants and a white tank top as if it were designer exclusives. She laughs loudly and drinks beer with the guys while keeping her femininity intact. She doesn’t do the flushed and sweaty look either, but if she did she’s just look natural and beautiful, and as she doesn’t need make-up or hair-products to look amazing there’re no worries about making either stay in place.

The thing is these two types (whom I know plenty of girls that fit in to by the way!) make me feel like a mess or an uptight square respectively. I can’t relax and take beer because it tastes despicable and I always squirm out of having to buy the wine to any social occasion knowing I might end up buying cooking wine. My clothes are either too cheep-looking and wrinkly or too put together and matched. I get tongue-tied when trying to talk to anyone I haven’t talked to at least 50 times before and even the simplest conversation topics become to difficult to handle. I mean, I don’t really get much of the modern art out there and while loving to read I don’t think neither The Hunger Games nor the latest Nickolas Sparks novel is what people call “good literature”, and don’t even get me started on music – how am I suppose to come across as an intelligent (or at the very least not a ditsy teenager) woman in her late twenties while confessing that my Taylor Swift playlist on Spotify has been playing on repeat the last couple of weeks? And even if I could somehow fake my way too seeming like I’m not a complete dork inside you just need to see me on a semi-hot day walking out of my apartment, I promise you, all it takes is a couple of steps and all efforts gone into brushing my hair (which I don’t incidentally, but you know what I mean…) and carefully applying make-up is lost, I’m red as a tomato, glistening with sweat and the hair has curled and flying every which way.

Anyway, this wasn’t really supposed to be a “bash Arlen” post – I mean, maybe I could change, if I really tried, but why would I? I absolutely love my sappy “Americanized” (yes that’s supposed to be an insult) romance books (or movies) and how else am I supposed to dinner if not while dancing around to Taylor’s amazing songs? And I guess if I really had to bring wine to a dinner there’s always Rosé right? But darn it, I do wish I knew the secret to not looking flustered and sweaty on summer days.

The concept of summer

I always think that summers should be spent in a certain way, and mine never seem to match. I imagine big groups of friends going swimming or staying up talking in the warm bright summer-nights – but I’m working 24 hour shifts every other day and my friends are working, traveling or taking care of babies. I guess it’s called growing up. None the less I have a tendency to yell at myself when I don’t “enjoy” the summer days as much as I should, like when I get up to late or don’t go outside for a whole day. I’m trying to stop though, cause even though that might not be the way you’re supposed to enjoy summer, it’s the way I relax and if I wasn’t being yelled at (by myself) all the time I might even actually enjoy it.

So a quick description of my last couple of weeks – 24 hour shifts at the hospital every 2nd or 3rd day, sleeping late the days I’m not working (and I’ve finally found my sleepingmask so when I say late I mean like until lunch!), breakfast/lunch in my balcony (that never got the makeover I intended it to but still works well with a chair and tiny table), walking by the fields/woods nearby, reading for hours on end, watching re-runs of How I Met Your Mother, eating brunch in the city with a great podcast in my ears and shopping dresses I have no idea when I’ll wear. If it wasn’t for the fact that I miss using my voice (for other than singing super super loud) this might just be a really great summer…

The process of being draged into something you want to do

There’s this thing I do after I decide to do something – I take it back. Almost every time I have a big decision to make I have this process where I start out being 110% sure that I know what I want, then I decide I don’t want it at all, in fact I probably never wanted it in the first place. After that I have the “million thoughts at once” phase which is quite draining and followed by the “I don’t even care, just choose whatever” phase. This is usually where I actually make the decision (that in 99% of the cases is the option I was sure about from the start). The last thing in the decision-making-process is the “no return” phase, you know that feeling after you’ve gotten on a rollercoaster and your locked in and the cart is starting to move and you suddenly realize – why the hell am I risking my life to be swung around a couple of times!? Yep, that’s the feeling after something’s been decided.

I suppose it’s a long way to go to say that decided things make me nervous. I would probably never do anything if I didn’t in some way have to. When I get called to a birth because they think they might have a sick baby, the only way I get my shaky legs over there is knowing that I don’t have a choice, it’s my job and I know how to do it, it’s about realizing that debating if I dare or not is not an option, the cart is already moving.

In a couple of weeks my classes start in Copenhagen and even though some might think it’s no big deal I’m still nervous. It’s a new city; I’m going to be put together with over 100 people I have never met and I’m going to be far away from my friends – not even considering the fact that I’ll be studying things I don’t know and might not be good at. I’m normally really good at staying away from scary things, I rarely take risks so I guess I should be proud of myself for doing this (how little and insignificant it might sound to everybody else) but right now I’m to busy regretting I ever decided to go, maybe I’ll feel good about it afterward – I mean, the best part about a rollercoaster is getting of alive right?

A picture of a feeling

So I’ve been trying to post this for a couple of days now but I´m really not used to this mini-pc (it’s my sisters and the keyboard is physically American but programmed Swedish and I’ve been using a Danish keyboard for about 7 years…) so it’s taking a while. Anyway, I’ve been to the states and back again as you might have guessed. It’s been amazing – also, as you might imagine.

To summarize I had a horrible experience with Immigrations (apparently I look nothing like my passport), a pretty okay night in Vegas, a great day in Santa Monica, an amazing (yup, let’s say it again – AMAZING) day at Disneyland and then some really really great relaxing, embracing the surfer-chick lifestyle days in San Diego. All in all one of the best vacations ever. Only problem – it could have been longer… and 4th of July was kind of a let down, but let’s face it, I couldn’t really muster up the nauseatingly patriotic feel of the whole thing anyway, I’m way to European for that.

Oh well, let’s see if I can give you a tiny hint of how it was with some crappy iPhone pictures.

 

Christ, this is taking forever (the computer is not only American, it’s sloooow too) – I think I’ll just make a part two with the San Diego pictures tomorrow. So, to be continued…

Californication

This is pretty much how I imagine my mini-vacation to The Golden State – a night in Vegas, a couple of days in LA (where my priority is getting sprinkled with some fairy dust at the happiest place in the world) and then a couple of relaxing days – including what I am expecting to be an amazing 4th of July celebration in San Diego. Best of all? A whole week with the smartest, funniest and probably coolest person in the state! Can’t wait!

By the way, ever heard of those kinds of people who plan ahead? You know, the ones who actually know what they’re going to do next summer? I wish someone would donate one of those to be my vacation-planner. I mean, who the hell buys a transatlantic plane ticket two weeks before leaving? And keeps changing her mind about time of departure up until the minute she presses buy? And who is now thinking the whole “getting to the airport on time thing” might become a bit of a stress factor, I’m talking minutes margin here... Oh well, nothing to do about that now!

Oh and lastly, is it only me or is Red Hot Chilli Peppers like the official California mood setter band? All their songs sound like hot sun and hot surfing duds…

Relaxing working weekend

I think I might like pink – and tea…

Today I slept late, I know, call the newspapers! I used to be able to sleep all day, I love sleeping, it’s one of my greatest skills, but lately (more exactly since I moved to this light bulb of an apartment) I can’t sleep past 6 in the morning, so right now I’m celebrating every time I sleep past 8. The celebration for sleeping to 9.30 this morning was some really great banana pancakes.

The recipe is very easy – unless you don’t have any sugar or buttermilk or enough wheat flour… But being the stubborn person that I am I made some changes and voila – banana pancakes! So here goes.

^{100 gram wheat flour}

^{100 gram spelled flour}

^{3 tablespoons muscovado sugar}

^{2 teaspoons baking powder}

^{½ teaspoon salt}

^{350 ml milk (it might be better with just 300ml)}

^{25g melted butter}

^{2 eggs}

^{Half a banana}

Mix the dry ingredients together and ad the wet ingredients. Don’t mix too much and don’t use an electric whisk, you can actually just use a fork – and don’t worry about the lumps, they actually make better (fluffier) pancakes. Bake on a skillet – turn when the top side is filled with small holes and looks like a sponge (hmm, there must be a better way to describe that…). A word of caution – as you’re doing several pancakes at once (I have room for two or three on my skillet), don’t try the “flip in the air” maneuver… Oh yeah! The banana goes in (cut up in small pieces of course!) just before you turn the pancakes on the skillet!

Well then, I guess that’s my contribution to your relaxing weekend. Now I need to get ready, cause some of us won’t spend the weekend lazing around in our PJ’s – oh no, some of us have to tend to sick kids and worried parents. Gosh I’m glad that’s me!    

Happy days – are here to stay…

Two dear friends have graduated as doctors in two different countries less than a week apart and I’ve been lucky enough to share that with both of them. Apart from that I’ve met a beautiful baby girl, caught up with a high school friend (her mother) and spent some well needed quality time with mom and dad. All in all a really great week though with some really horrible weather, I guess it’s to be expected in Sweden.

A couple of weeks ago I wrote about things that make me happy and I’ve actually kept the positive attitude going and thought of things almost on a daily basis. It’s not like I didn’t notice it before, but it gives me a little rush to find these things in really random otherwise mundane situations. So here goes, some more tricks to get me happy.

Falling asleep with my head on my moms tummy – I know, I’m 28 (ghaa!) but this is like heaven to me.

Getting out of wet shoes and into warm socks.

Holding, cuddling and just being near babies, it melts my heart and makes me believe in fairies again. I don’t think I’ve ever been sad or unhappy whiles holding a baby.

The first bite of a really good chees pupusa (it’s like a tortilla with filling and it’s marvelous!).

Walking from the plane to the arrival hall in Arlanda Airport – they have these pictures up of famous Swedish people and I always get the first feeling of coming home right there.

 

Three things I’ll always associate with Sweden – moms tortillas (or pupusas), really good strawberries and “studenten” (high school graduation!).