Today, I had the first of what I hope will be many 'business' lunches with my new associate. A business plan was discussed, sophisticated (well, sophisticated in terms of lunch) foods were consumed and much ego-massaging was performed. I like! It felt so grown up and efficient. After that, I was quite overcome and had to recover by wasting an entire afternoon reading nonsense and blowing my nose.

randomized

So Roma is leading against Chelsea with 3-0 and apparently I should be shocked about this. I think it's time I stopped pretending to know anything about football.

Is it just me, or is the fact that I am researching train time tables to New Jersey for someone who is actually in New York State seem a little absurd?

The internet makes you do unnatural things. You heard it here first.

The thing about reading books, even if you don't agree with the message, is that they seem to stay with you whether you like it or not. Today has started off as a moderate to fairly crappy day, heavy heart and all that, but since I've read the Secret, I feel guilty about even thinking today is crap because I should be positive thinking my way out of a funk. Knowing that I could be bouncing around on a self-induced high instead of feeling sorry for myself is not making me feel better either.

I mean, don't I have enough guilt as it is? Did I have to go and create more?

C'est le livre du moment

Lately my bookclub has been leaving me with a strange taste in the mouth, which is unusual for me as I tend to read everything including packets of cornflakes without the merest flicker of an opinion forming in my delightfully superficial brain. However, our latest book, The Secret by Rhonda Byrne, had me more than just tutting with concern. Reassuringly though, I wasn't the only one with misgivings.

When it comes to books, I need something that is witty, insightful and which makes me wish I had written that particular passage. My current book (started only last night) has all of these elements: Rock me Amadeus by Seb Hunter. This book also had J snorting with laughter. However, I don't know if I would recommend it to just anybody, after all, you have to be on the market for some self-deprecating quintessentially British humour with a musically savvy twist. In fact, I think the only candidate I know for that is my brother, who does like his music and who is very much of the self-deprecating humour type.

In other books, I have recently enjoyed The Road Home by Rose Tremain, whom I have admired for some time and whose novel Sacred Country still haunts me. When I try to tell people about her latest effort though, my attempts to make the plot seem interesting fall completely flat, so I need to take another approach when giving it a recommendation, just what kind of approach remains to be determined.

One book that I have to resist the urge to reread over and over again is of course Pride and Prejudice. It really is like an old friend to me, but it just seems a bit dull to give this book so much attention when there are so many out there demanding to be read. I'm particularly looking forward to getting my hands on the lastest Booker prize winner, Aravind Adiga's White Tiger.

On that note, I shall go pay my respects to Mr Amazon.

So where were we?

So you are reaching the end of your 6000 word translation project, and with 700 measly words left to go, you are dawdling all over the internet, plucking virtual daisies and humming tunelessly to yourself. Instead of, you know, finishig and moving on to something more interesting like eating lunch, doing some much needed planning or even just rewarding yourself with a half hour read.

Is this how everyone works? Or is it just me who needs an evil taskmaster with a vicious prodding device?

I am never drinking again

The loneliness of the part-time translator

Lately, I've been doing a fair bit of translation, and I'm sad to say that it does tend to sap my will to live somewhat. It is a bit like writing that awful essay about 'industrial themes in French 19th century literature', when you rewarded yourself for writing a whole sentence by staring out of the window for a full 15 minutes and wondering if your bladder could withstand yet another cup of tea. Translation in my field is equal parts detective work, dull formulations and rage inducing formatting. No wonder I'm so breezy and light hearted when I have lessons, I mean it's such a relief to have a NORMAL (well relatively) conversation with ANOTHER HUMAN BEING, rather than the usual monologues that go something like:
Is 'fabrication' production or manufacture? Do I care at this stage?

I know I'm very lucky to have the linguistic abilities that I do, but it seems that I've fallen into the default position of someone who sort of speaks five languages, i.e. a translator. I always said I would never translate (or teach for that matter - ha!), but here I am, knee deep in the stuff, and while I do enjoy the freedom that being a freelancer entails, I must admit that I feel frustrated as I sit in front of my computer for the 10th consecutive hour and my 18th cup of tea.

God knows how I would survive if I did this full time!

Translation is not the most glamorous business...

Ah yes, I remember now

See? This is what happens when you try to combine too many things at the same time: one of those things is always going to be the loser, and in this case turns ut it was the blog... Pesky things, like work and sleep generally get in the way of providing quality content on every weekday.

Ok, but I will give a little summary of what I've been up to: carrying boxes up and down stairs, running 12km on a beautiful autumn afternoon, getting ready for a meeting, translating a hotel website (and wanting to be a guest), teaching English and French, successfully avoiding the rain (though I think this is going to come to a sudden stop in approx 15 mins), making fantastic pie pastry (if I do say so myself), baking not so fantastic muffins (a case of over-stiring I believe), reading one million other blogs and forgetting to do one million other things.

You?

An embarrassment of surprises

So it turns out that all my internet orders turn up at the same time, the bedside table, the boots plus a whole bunch of books I ordered (for my bookclub see). Then on top of that I do some restrained shopping (one top, one pair of tights). And then the next minute, after pigging out on all this consumerism, I feel faintly nauseous and mildly embarrassed that I've spent all this money.

I think I need to get over that sharpish.

Hope the weather turns crap so that I can wear the boots though.

Working against the clock

Yup, another deadline I'm sweating against. Boy, do I regret reading all that stuff about the Republican VP candidate instead of translating that annual report.


Hope there's a question about her in the next pub quiz

Other people's business

I'm completely mesmerized by Governor Palin and have been reading about her in the British, American, Swedish AND French press (I like getting all the angles). It's weird, she looks so nice, and yet she is being portrayed as the Antichrist. Also, I was highly entertained by the photoshopped (must be) picture of her in a bikini toting some kind of mini-rocket launcher (or just a big gun - either way, it goes bang, or possibly boom).

Musos having some fun?

This article was in the paper today.

Bob Dylan and Oasis are underrated? Do we live on the same planet perchance?

Göteborg, you continue to tease

I know it must be some kind of proven fact, but simple pleasures are really the best and Gbg is a town that lets you enjoy them to their full extent. There can be nothing more relaxing and exalting at the same time as running errands in town on my bike with very few time pressures: you cycle around, you stop to admire a building you hadn't noticed before, you park with ease, you visit the library, you feel the wind blowing through your hair and life feels good.

Then you go home and try and have in important conversation in Swedish where you grasp about 65% of what was said.

Life in a foreign country, it's a roller coaster man.

That old chestnut about Mondays

Posting will be very slight on Mondays because they are going to be real work humdingers.

Weekend fillums

Films seen this weekend:
Get smart
Things we lost in the fire

I've actually resolved to watch more European films this autumn, I even have a film buddy.

Quand est-ce qu'on mange?

Well, not being otherwise engaged, I have of course got food on the brain. I found this list via Chocolate & Zucchini who got it from somewhere else.


1) Copy this list into your blog or journal, including these instructions.2) Bold all the items you’ve eaten.3) Cross out any items that you would never consider eating.4) Optional extra: Post a comment here at http://www.verygoodtaste.co.uk/ linking to your results.

The VGT Omnivore’s Hundred:
1. Venison
2. Nettle tea (along with fennel tea, rosehip tea, hibiscus tea and the like - strong hippy tendencies here)
3. Huevos rancheros
4. Steak tartare
5. Crocodile
6. Black pudding (I get cravings for this, but I have yet to try the Swedish version - the packaging is not very appetizing and it never really looks fresh)
7. Cheese fondue
8. Carp
9. Borscht (the one I ate was of polish extraction)
10. Baba ghanoush
11. Calamari
12. Pho (sounds quite nice though)
13. PB&J sandwich (Being British, I hopped over the jam part, so I shall not claim this one)
14. Aloo gobi
15. Hot dog from a street cart
16. Epoisses (yum)
17. Black truffle (a long time ago, before I was old enough to appreciate it)
18. Fruit wine made from something other than grapes (raspberry I believe it was)
19. Steamed pork buns
20. Pistachio ice cream
21. Heirloom tomatoes
22. Fresh wild berries (are there any poor souls that haven't?)
23. Foie gras
24. Rice and beans
25. Brawn, or head cheese (I probably have eaten this, but can't remember)
26. Raw Scotch Bonnet pepper (erm, why would you do that?)
27. Dulce de leche
28. Oysters
29. Baklava
30. Bagna cauda
31. Wasabi peas
32. Clam chowder in a sourdough bowl (that particular one wasn't very nice I seem to recall)
33. Salted lassi (regular lassi is excellent - might like to try this one)
34. Sauerkraut (I love a good sauerkraut me, I made one once and it involved goose fat and a whole bottle of Riesling - gorgeous)
35. Root beer float (Root beer tastes like how I image paint stripper to taste)
36. Cognac with a fat cigar (Cognac certainly, but no cigar)
37. Clotted cream tea
38. Vodka jelly/Jell-O
39. Gumbo
40. Oxtail
41. Curried goat
42. Whole insects
43. Phaal (given my inability to handle super spicy stuff, I'll probably give this one a miss)
44. Goat’s milk (a phase in my early teens)
45. Malt whisky from a bottle worth £60/$120 or more
46. Fugu (why run the risk?)
47. Chicken tikka masala
48. Eel (probably have, but can't remember)
49. Krispy Kreme original glazed doughnut (there was only Dunkin' Donuts in Glasgow)
50. Sea urchin
51. Prickly pear (I prefer the French name 'figue de Barbarie', much more evocative)
52. Umeboshi
53. Abalone
54. Paneer
55. McDonald’s Big Mac Meal
56. Spaetzle (my year in Germany was rich in these)
57. Dirty gin martini (was quite gross actually)
58. Beer above 8% ABV
59. Poutine (looks particularly unappetizing)
60. Carob chips
61. S’mores
62. Sweetbreads
63. Kaolin
64. Currywurst (Gotta love the German stuff in this list)
65. Durian
66. Frogs’ legs (last night actually)
67. Beignets, churros, elephant ears or funnel cake
68. Haggis (I don't see what people get so revulsed about)
69. Fried plantain
70. Chitterlings, or andouillette
71. Gazpacho
72. Caviar and blini
73. Louche absinthe
74. Gjetost, or brunost (bizarro)
75. Roadkill
76. Baijiu
77. Hostess Fruit Pie
78. Snail
79. Lapsang souchong
80. Bellini
81. Tom yum
82. Eggs Benedict
83. Pocky (called Mikado where I come from)
84. Tasting menu at a three Michelin-star restaurant.
85. Kobe beef
86. Hare
87. Goulash
88. Flowers
89. Horse
90. Criollo chocolate
91. Spam
92. Soft shell crab
93. Rose harissa
94. Catfish
95. Mole poblano
96. Bagel and lox
97. Lobster Thermidor
98. Polenta
99. Jamaican Blue Mountain coffee
100. Snake

unwelcome revelations

I was in the audience for this program yesterday, and though the subjects debated were all very interesting in their own right (communication monitoring to ward off terrorist threats, male/female equality and the effects of the tourist industry on third world countries), the most important thing I learned last night had nothing to do with any of it. It's much, much more mundane than that. As I sat listening, straining my every nerve and sinew to understand the gist of what was going on, it dawned on me: my Swedish, functions perfectly well in day to day situations and I can deal with most stuff, both listening and speaking, but here, I was totally out of my league. My Swedish just doesn't cut the mustard, pal. However, that doesn't mean I'm currently wallowing in a pit of self-despair, far from it (ok, well just a little bit then). No, I now feel that I have the motivation to improve my Swedish so that I can become a fully functioning member of its society, one that understands!

I know what this means though: I'll actually have to do some language work, and I am quite literally the worst student in the world (I know what they are like, I am after all a teacher), no self-discipline whatsoever. So I guess I'm setting myself up for another fall! Go me.





Sigh

No direction home?

There is very little I miss from Blighty, and overbrewed orange builder's tea is certainly not one of them. Nor do I miss overpriced coffee from identikit coffee shops. However, there are a handful of things I do yearn for:

Buttered crumpet is one, though I haven't eaten one in three years, so I may be romanticising somewhat.
The Saturday edition of the Guardian. A full week's worth of entertainment, the highlight being the Guide (featured on the right hand side in the middle) for its ironic wit in describing films, TV and radio programs. Man, I could weep. Again, not read for the best part of 3 years so it may not be worth the paper its printed on anymore. But oh! to feel the weight of its 1.5kg goodness in my hands on Saturday morning as I purchase my croissants...



Other than that? Well, I miss speaking English, the bookshops (full of books in English, good books even!), British TV (but not all that much), London (only a tiny bit). Overall, what I have here more than compensates for what I can't have.

Au travail

Going back to work was far from the big trauma I had imagined it to be. It was even *whispers* quite fun being back with my co-workers and having a giggle.



So many projects and so pepped up to do them. My god! Is this what being an adult is all about?





Gasp

Sensommar

One day I'll get around to explaining the title of this blog, but not today.

Göteborg, you tease, first you rain on my parade and my new haircut, and then you make sunshine pour through the windows while I'm baking, causing me to overheat. There is a touch of late summer in the air for sure.

I've been lazy today, but that's ok because tomorrow I start work again *mixed feelings*

le blog de la mode de chez Stef

Super trendy shoes are a must in this day and age, I can barely understand how I dared to tread the fashionable streets of Göteborg in my old clarks. NOW I have put things to rights and shall no longer scurry away to hide my poorly shod hoofs under a bush. NOW is the time to stride with pride!

Consumerism strikes again

I have bought boots and a bedside table, all from the comfort of my own home and pyjamas. For someone who hates the crowded shopping centre as much as I do, this is a big bonus. Hopefully, I will actually like what I've ordered.

Baby steps continues

Three days after my return, I am still taking random naps and feeling groggy. I can't even claim jetlag seeing as there is no time difference whatsoever, not even an hour. Maybe I have end-of-holidays-back-to-work-approaching blues. Meh.

Off now to watch Midnattsloppet (the midnight race that starts at 10pm) and cheer on those who are more sporty than me at the moment. My training has gone down the toilet, it's a crying shame, but what can you do. Still, it's a beautiful night to go running around town, trying not to get stopped up by drunken revellers.

Holiday destination revealed

Our holiday destination was in fact Tunisia, hence the arabic Coke. The first picture is of the Gulf of Tunis taken from the ancient site of Carthage, and the second was from the terrace of a cafe in the village of Jedidi on market day. We were staying in the very touristic town of Hammamet, but it also appeared to have a lot of visitors from Tunis as well as Algeria. At night, the whole family wanders around town, slurping ice creams and weaving through the dense traffic. Tourism for Westerners is mainly limited to these areas and to all-inclusive hotels which I'm sure is fine for a while, but it must get pretty boring after two weeks: where is the fun in eating at the same restaurant day in, day out?
I have a relative there I'd never met so I gave her a call and she picked us up as well as gave us a fabulous dinner. First she gave us a tour of the local town and I was bombarding her with questions about Tunisia and was starting to really like her. Then we got to her place and discovered that she has a live in maid, no older than 16. Bizarro.

And I'm back - typical of me to start a new blog a mere couple of days before I'm due to go away on holiday, talk about setting yourself up for a fall.

Anyroad, some holiday pics

Can you guess where it is yet?

An excellent trip bar the last leg entailing a 13 hour delay and arrival home at 5am this morning. Naturally I went to bed considering the advanced hour, but J had some serious party to attend to in Denmark of all places, so he just about had time to have a shower and then hop on his bike to meet the ferry at 7am. He won't even be back until 2am.



Going through the holiday snaps has made me realise 2 things, a) the double chin has to go and b) I don't think I can get away without make up. Neither of these are particularly rejoiceful and have about the same effect as shopping for a new bikini (couldn't be avoided this year).

Sigh

An exercise in futility

I am about to attend a meeting on bike and rubbish issues for this building and I think I can safely say that I have strictly nothing to contribute. So I feel a wave of quietness coming on which I stare silently as the others rattle off jolly good solutions for our new recycling facilities, probably using words I have never heard before. I think I will probably spend the time to daydream about new cute outfits I can put together - a regular passtime of mine.

I would so much rather stay at home and bake a cake.

baby steps

There could be no possible better use of my time on a rainy Sunday afternoon than the creation of a new blog. This time, there are no themes, no ultimate masterplan and most definitely no promises.

Like I said, baby steps.

Here are some things I like right now:

Joan As Police Woman

Claire Tomalin

Make Up Store blush in Carmel