Knickerbocker Glory

RIGHT ABOUT NOW; The Funk Soul Brother. Check it out now; The Funk Soul Brother. Right about now

Imagine if you will, a gorgeous but chubby raven haired white girl driving home hopped up on a toasted coconut latte, dancing behind the wheel… So graceful is she as she rocks her shoulders back and forth and wiggles her hips – still seated and with both hands on the wheel of course. She IS a mother after all; there has to be some sense of decorum and safety. Well, perhaps not decorum so much… but safety always!

Right about now, ’bout now, ’bout now, ’bout now

Surely the coffee and music on it’s own didn’t put her in such a bouncy mood? It must have contributed to her mood when her children were promptly ready for school this morning… But today is a day for laundry, not dancing silly woman! Yet as the music changes she is still bopping along towards home.

Vanilla Strawberry Knickerbocker glory. Vanilla Strawberry Knickerbocker glory. Vanilla Strawberry Knickerbocker glory. Vanilla Strawberry Knickerbocker glory…

‘Oooo, Ice cream…’ she thinks – only increasing her sense of hyperactivity. Man, she is gonna be SO productive today! Laundry and a blog post (or two) AT LEAST!

She pulls into the driveway, intending to promptly get out and get to her planned productivity. But wait… Now that’s she’s parked she can dance WITHOUT her hands on the wheel! ‘Just one more song won’t hurt nuthin’,’ she decides…

Put me in the hospital for nerves and then they had to commit me. You told them all I was crazy… They cut off my legs now I’m an amputee – God Damn you!

Yup, Today is gonna be a good day 🙂

*Artists: Fat Boy Slim, Fujiya & Miyagi, Harvey Danger

Reblogging Rae: Svea’s Summer House in Sandhamn

Post #7 for my recycled posts series – this one is from March 2015. All new pictures added 🙂

Summertime in Sweden meant that the sun wouldn’t set, the weather would warm just enough to warrant swimming and apparel of tube tops and shorts… but rarely did it get too hot. Summertime also meant that there was cause to pack a bag and head out to Svea’s summer cabin on Sandhamn.

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One year we headed out there specifically to celebrate the midsummer holiday. Unlike the usual midsummer, Svea’s older brother nor her parents had any plans for the cabin, so Svea and I headed out there by ourselves. We liked it that way anyway. Some of my favorite memories are of playing house with Svea whether it be on Sandhamn, at her Winter house in Borka, or on the weekends in her Stockholm flat when her family would often be at one of the other locations.

The midsummer that we went to Sandhamn, we packed our bags, carefully choosing our alcoholic selection – which that year I recall as being pear ciders for the most part, and headed out to Slussen to catch our bus. The bus ride to or from Slussen was never my favourite leg of this trip. Most often the bus was over full and hot… and took about forty-five minutes to reach the harbour where we would catch our ferry.

Once at the harbour we were sometimes lucky to just catch the ferry without having to wait another thirty minutes for the next one to arrive. The ferry ride was always pleasant. Since we only ever rode it in the spring and summer, the weather was usually perfect. The sun reflecting off of the water, sometimes almost blindingly depending on the time of day.

We would sit and have drinks and chat. Never running out of things to say, that’s the way it goes with best friends I suppose. After a half hour or so, and a few stops at other islands, we would arrive at Sandhamn – getting off at the second pier. The first pier was large and was home to the tourist side of the island – a hotel, a few shops, yachts and music. Svea and I got off on the other side which was quiet and serene. It only took ten minutes or so to walk from her cabin to the tourist side when we needed groceries or an ice cream anyway. So we usually got into the cabin, set our stuff down, turned on the water supply, etc and then started off for the grocery store.

The ten minutes had us walking through lush green woods comprised of tall tall trees. The scenery in my memory I see as an almost mystical green. But the reality was not so remarkable, I suppose.

IMG_3627[1]When we reached the store we usually picked up just enough rations for the weekend so that we wouldn’t have to carry anything home. The only specific things I remember ever getting were tomatoes, cucumbers, and salt. This particular midsummer I recall slicing these tomatoes and cucumbers and arranging them on a plate as Svea and I laughed about something in the kitchen. We grabbed our ciders and packs of cigarettes and headed out to the deck where we laid out in the sun, sprinkling our veggies with salt and drinking our ciders in between puffs of smoke.

IMG_3624[1]The view from the deck was beautiful, we could see the water from there. The foreground was rocky, large flat rocks lead the way down to the beach, and the view was littered with a few trees to block one side of the view from our vantage point. I remember laying out that day and Svea telling me about a book she was reading. This was not an unusual occurrence, we both being heavy readers. This day Svea introduced me to the world of Mikael Niemi as she told me about “Populärmusik från Vittula.” Later this would become one of my favourite books… I now hold both the Swedish version and the English “Popular Music from Vittula” in an honored place on my bookshelf. Svea laughed this day as she described the mountaintop scene to me and I knew I would be reading it soon. Svea had impeccable taste in books as far as I was concerned.

That night, we decided to watch The Shining. For those of you that don’t know, this is a movie based off of a Stephen King novel. Back then both Svea and I enjoyed Stephen King. I do still find him an excellent writer, but my tastes have changed as far as recreational reading goes.

The mistake we made, as we settled in on the couch to watch it with our snacks and cream soda, was waiting til dark to watch it. The TV sat in front of a large window that gave us a view into the semi-darkness, even darker than you would expect from a Swedish summer since we were surrounded by trees. It’s also important to note that we would be required to go outside to get to the building that housed the toilet, and even if I could convince myself to hold it – the structure that held our bedroom area was out that door too.

I had read The Shining a while prior to this night. Generally when I read a Stephen King novel, or watch one of the movies for the first time a second viewing doesn’t bother me any more because I know what’s coming. This night; however, I had apparently forgotten a few plot developments since it had been awhile since having read the book.

Svea and I were curled under a blanket on the couch. We were surviving through the movie even as the creep factor raised as shadows out of the window seemed to move. Without giving too much away to anyone who has never seen it – we got to the part of the movie where the boy is trying to get away from something in one of the hotel rooms. He finally gets out of the room and shuts the door. I took a sigh of relief, loosened my grip on Svea’s leg, and brought down the blanket I had been half hiding my face behind. She turned and gave me a knowing look just as the arm suddenly came out and grabbed the boy and dragged him back in the room.

I screamed out “Jesus Christ!” in shock.

Svea started laughing.

“You could have warned me, you know!”

I made her accompany me to the bathroom before going to bed that night.

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Reblogging Rae: A Vision in Aquamarine

Post #5 for my recycled posts series. This one is from March 2015.

It’s funny what memories suddenly come back to you when you spend some time thinking about old friends and places. Today I suddenly remembered a particular memory – a fleeting incident that happened when I was about 17. No real significance is to be had from this memory, it is just an anecdotal moment in my history. A story to tell when at a party and somehow the conversation steers in that direction.

It was a summer day in Stockholm, Sweden. I was supposed to be meeting Anneke in town for some shopping and I arrived earlier than planned, so I decided to chill on the steps of the Kulturhuset to read my book.

This particular summer day, I was immaculately dressed if I do say so myself. My outfit matched to a T. I wore an Aquamarine tank top, an aqua Asian embroidered mini skirt, and some clunky sandals that were also made from aqua Asian inspired embroidered fabric.

I settled down on the steps and lowered my head to start reading. After a few minutes I heard a *clickclickclickclick.*

I looked up and saw a Japanese tourist with his camera pointed at me. He held really still. I saw him see me note him. I turned my attention back to my book. *clickclickclickclick.*

I shot my head up and squinted at him as he remained perfectly still watching me as if I were some form of wildlife he did not want to startle.

I slowly lowered my head keeping my eyes on him until the last moment. *clickclickclickclick* Annoyed now, I turned my head only slightly from the side to peer at him…. *click…click… …. …click.*

Just as I seriously considered getting up and walking away, he turned and walked away with his group.

I closed my book, suddenly noticing that my copy of “The Beach” that I had been reading perfectly matched my outfit with it’s big eye and ocean water.

Once in a while I wonder if my image has ever turned up in an Asian tourist pamphlet, possibly labelled as a Swedish girl on the summer steps of Kulturhuset, a girl with blue eyes that was a vision in Aquamarine.

Reblogging Rae: Anneke and Heather

Post #4 of my flashback/recycled posts – this one is from February 2015 – one of the very first memories I posted.

“It’s your turn to sit in the back, Rae.”

“Only if you put the top up!” I said as I climbed into the back of Heather’s convertible. It was the middle of Swedish winter and we had made Anneke ride in the back on the way there.

Heather liked to put her heat full blast, but had a notion that to make the heat really worth it the top should be down so the heater could blast away the cold. It was actually pretty comfortable that way – when you were sitting in the front. If you were allotted a back seat, you had to be sure to have your best hat and mittens.

“Anneke, for real though – let me borrow your hat. I left mine at home.”

Anneke grudgingly complied with my request, only because she had already suffered the backseat that evening and knew how cold it was. Now it was two hours later and even colder as night had truly set in. Not that it was all that much lighter earlier. After all, night fell around two or three PM this time of year.

Settled in and as comfortable as I could be, Anneke and I started in on Heather; teasing her about Per. Per and Heather were both leaders at our Young Life group there in Täby, though Per was Swedish, Heather was an American College student that was only supposed to be there for a couple of years.

Heather played along with our teasing – though she had been writing off what we had noticed as chemistry between them. (Turns out, eventually we would be proved right as Heather and Per got married and she stayed in Sweden indefinitely.)

She then deflected from herself by teasing Anneke about her crush on Anders. She said “Du vill kissa på honom!!” Anneke and I burst out laughing. Bless Heather and how hard she was trying to learn Swedish… She looked offended and asked what we were laughing at. “’Kissa’ sa du!” We choked as we giggled. She had told us that Anneke wanted to “piss” on him. “Menade du ‘Kyss??’” We asked her. “Did you mean ‘Kiss??’”

“I’m pretty certain I do not, in fact, want to piss on Anders.” Anneke said, laughing.

Reblogging Rae: I’m a Mean Wife

Post #3 in my flashback/recycling series – this one was also made private awhile back and was a continuation of the first post I posted in this series (An Evil Woman.) Originally posted in December 2015.

A few months ago I was laying in bed reading or writing or some such literary activity when my husband came to the doorway to talk about something. I can’t remember what the conversation started about, but at some point he said something about a message stream he had apparently read of mine a while prior. He said basically that he was intrigued by the open sex talk it contained as I was talking to one or both of my BFFs (Svea/Maja).

I’ve mentioned before, I believe, that I’ve never been very open about my thoughts with my husband – especially before this past year – let alone about sex stuff.

He said he was intrigued and then said he stopped reading when I mentioned an ex. He said “If you ever want me to not read something just write about another guy’s ‘package,’ and I’ll be done. I just don’t want to know.”

I was confused and said I didn’t even know what conversation he was referring too. “Must have been awhile ago… Who was I even talking about?”

“I dunno. I didn’t tell you I read it at the time… it was about some guy that was Norwegian or something…”

“Oh, that would be Danish. That guy was HUGE.” I exclaimed – gesturing with my hands to drive home the point.

My husband stopped mid-sentence. Shut his mouth and just looked at me for a second. Then he said “I’m out,” turned on his heel and walked out.

I was cackling with laughter – I couldn’t help it – but I called out after him: “Hey! Where’re you going?! …I just said it was big – not that I liked it!”

I laughed some more, his reaction had just amused me so much. He didn’t respond initially so I went back to my task, giggling under my breath periodically.

About ten minutes later my husband walked back into the room silently, threw a king size candy bar into my lap and walked back out again.

Confused I called out “What’s this for? I told you I didn’t want candy – I’m on a diet!”

He came back in to respond “I just thought you’d like it because it’s so big.”

Then he walked out again.

I snorted back laughter and yelled out again “I never said I LIKED IT!”

****

He continued to periodically make references to me liking something because of it being ‘so big’ for several weeks after that. I suppose he can be pretty funny himself sometimes… but, hey, I’m the one that is freaking hilarious! 😛

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Reblogging Rae: Word F**kery

Post #2 for my recycling of my content series. This one is from June 2015… It contains some additional content.

I don’t know if it’s the insomnia I’ve had over the past few days, or simply the fact that I’ve been looking at and listening to other languages a lot this weekend. I have been listening to my Swedish music and reading a book in Swedish… and I also decided to start learning Estonian, so I have started to do a bit with that. Listening to music, looking up language basics, etc. Maybe my issue is a mixture of both no sleep and the immersion back into more-than-usual foreign interaction… but I have been having the strangest sensation.

Yesterday, as I was sitting at my desk – more than once I heard people in the hall talking and I could swear they were speaking a foreign language. Foreign in the way that I couldn’t understand what they were saying, even though I knew they are Australian and obviously speaking English. Though I had no issue if someone actually walked into my office and spoke to me directly.

My brain is fucking with me.

I have had similar issues in the past where I will read English words, but sound them out as a Swede would and then get so confused because it obviously then doesn’t make sense. After a moment I realize I’m reading English it all makes sense again.

Luckily Svea agrees this type of stuff happens to her constantly. She is always forgetting what language she is speaking or what language her current book she is reading is in. Good to know I am not alone! I’m sure it is worse for her since she has need to flip back and forth more often.

I recall a time back in High School that Svea was chatting to me and suddenly said “Oh! Sorry! I was speaking Swedish!” I laughed and told her she had been doing it for the last 20 minutes… and if I hadn’t understood her I would have told her.

Maja likes to fuck with me sometimes by writing English words in Swedish phonetics – so that if you were to read it aloud it would be English, but with a very thick Swedish accent.

Honestly, it makes me laugh every time. But the very first time I read English in a Swedish accent, it was through an Elvis comic in the Stockholm Metro paper. I had no idea what I was reading and I was so confused. I thought I had better say it out loud because it must be slang spelling – as a lot of comics do – (usually they spell like “Mej” instead of “Mig” for example.) I then realized, not only was I speaking English – but I was speaking very rude English with a thick, thick Swedish accent. This made me laugh even more heartily than the actual joke.

kt89r7ttsujfsuixe6opsfavluba3xbxagztervq4a28jaroxs31csw2pjesh

(These images were missing from the original post… But I found the exact comics I am referring to! Woo! Translations at the bottom 😉 )

**“Vaj ju nävär ansär ven aj kall?” Maja writes to me. “Ju sac!” She adds. I comment on how it makes me giggle every time and she tells me “Aj lajk to spik inglish vit ju.”

It makes me giggle – but now I think perhaps Maja just might be responsible for the fuckery in my head.

Thanks for that, Maja. Thanks a lot.

~~~~~~~~

Elvis translations – (in parentheses means it is actual Swedish) the Italics are the Swedish-accented English

Elvis comic #1: Panel 1: (But WTF) Do you suffer of a small manhood? Order our cockenlarger today! (Fucking junk mail!) Panel 2: No Thankyou, Motherfuckers – I don’t need it

Elvis comic #2: Panel #1: (Who are you writing to?)(Responding to junk mail. I’ve been invited to try Viagra and penis enlarging pump.) Panel #2: (and?) (What do you mean “and”? It’s offensive! I hope they think my reply is too) Why are you writing me? My cock is bigger than your whole family!

** “Why you never answer when I call?” …”You suck!” … “I like to speak English with you.”

Reblogging Rae: An Evil Woman

Post number one for my recycling of old posts series, this one is originally from December 2015- this one was actually made private awhile back when my husband expressed displeasure at being talked about on my blog. He has now; however, eased on that front. So here you go: re-sharing an incident that I still find to be freaking hilarious and epic. Enjoy 🙂

 

I FINALLY, after over 12 years of marriage, I FINALLY actually legitimately scared my husband… and it was so worth the wait!

So there I was, waiting on my husband to be ready to go somewhere; he was taking awhile in the shower so I went to the bathroom, opened the door and asked “How long are you going to be?”

He didn’t hear me.

Oh, what an opportunity.

I walked up to the shower where I saw his eyes were closed as he was rinsing his beard…

He he he, I thought to myself.

I pressed my face up against the glass door, making sure my nose was pressed upward for a more amusing effect and proceeded to wait.

It couldn’t have been more perfect how he bent his head, turned, and opened his eyes right in front of my face.

He screamed and reflexively punched the glass.

All my mom and step-dad heard was a yell and me coming down the hall crying and having difficulty breathing. My mom was like “Oh my God, Rachel’s been hurt!” and jumped up…

No, I was just laughing that hard it took me a good 10 minutes to express what had happened.

I literally laughed for 45 minutes straight – tears streaming down my face… In fact, I am still laughing and crying as I write this two days later…

When my husband came out of the bathroom he called me an “evil woman” and said I had never scared him like that in the whole time we’ve been together… He also stated that I looked like a “window licking mouth breather.”

My God, it was excellent… I am freaking hilarious… you’ll just have to trust me on that.

I will be laughing about that for years to come.

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