Let's talk about my wows in the commitment with myself. The ones I pledge to do within this up-coming year. Since I take this way to serious I only have some easy ones.
Love myself more
Take more chances and never hesitate
Break up with bad habits
And if there is any place left I'll try to break up my life long relationship with candy and put my money into travelling instead.
I think this will be a success! Can't wait for this awesome year to begin already.
...and since I'm on a roll, I'd like to talk about this new TV series that I'm plowing.
Have you ever had that feeling of when you see the intro of one series and it is just something in your bones that says, YES baby this is it!...? Ever?
That is exactly what happened when I saw the first season of Game of thrones. Looking forward to the third season of course. But since I am the pesky little nerd that I am, I can't really just swallow everything in one gulp of satisfaction.
For those of you who live in the dark and without Game of thrones wisdom - here ya go!
I also strongly recommend to actually watch the series, haha.
The thing I'm having serious issues with, is when it comes to one thing which seems to be like something that everyone else loves. The visual effects. I'm talking dragons, transforming and everything that includes the help of a computer. Too much visual effects of dragons and such is such a turn off. Where is the mysticism, the dragon is for fuck sake climbing around on Khaleesi's shoulders. I don't want to see everything and be seduced by the special effects. That would be a no. Maybe my imagination is not developed enough too some but, nah, I like it more "real".
Back on track, what series is it that I'm trying to talk about. The Misfits, of course :) I just liked it from start.
I'll give you the intro.
The song is The Rapture - Echoes.
I'm onto the second season now but I prefer the first one. We'll see how this turn out. The soundtrack is however exactly what I'd like to call a utopia.
My health people. I don't know how to take care of myself in Sweden. There is just something with my body which is not comprehending with its surroundings here. I feel bloated, I sleep a significantly horrifying amount of hours and even though I've tried just everything to include/exclude in my diet, my body just responds with giving me acne and black areas under my eyes. Also when I say bloated I mean, it takes my body more than two days to recover from working out. I am not, for your knowledge, a body builder so the recovering time would be less, moreover the clothes are getting tighter and I'm turning into this formless blob. Not really the results you'd like to have after working out or at least, not me.
There is nothing wrong with me since I survived Spain without feeling any of this. Sure I was really sick this one time but now I feel constantly ill. Right now I'm trying this "drink a lot of water and keep hydrated" which I really couldn't do in Spain, because of the chlorine and the feeling of drinking water from a swimming pool. That shit is nasty. Can't say that I feel any better though.
And the Christmas continues. I haven't been home a week yet and oh the jolly stress that lures just around the corner, such bliss. Run away with me, anyone?
To face the psychical things, yes face them, I got the acne back.
Moving back to Sweden was that kind of painful thing that I presumed in the first case. Of course I missed my friends but...
Abroad, where I've been, they call the swedes the "beautiful people" because of their blonde, tall appearance. We are supposed to be cool and laid-back, everything solves itself Sweden.
NEWSFLASH
Swedish people can be so cruel and disgusting. Bad apples grow everywhere.
Since I'm back in this godforsaken situation that I am, I'm back into old habits of watching vloggers talk about proBody, slut shaming etc important issues and I came across this simple line watching a new girl I've never seen before. Under her vlogg she texted, “Why does it hurt you if I don’t hate myself?” and I just felt the accuracy.
I'm quite strong, I have quite strong opinions but I confess that am a fool. I have this problem with not realizing that people can be so fucking stupid and all over so fucking in love with spraying their fucking "perfect" lives over other people (also called bragging, but I prefer the other image) and then not realizing themselves that not everyone wants to be them or the image of what they think is the "best" model of living/how one shall live their life.
Like for instance, skinny, superficial, wealthy, consuming and the best one: proud (this I have extreme issues with and it's eating me from the inside).
I'm not saying that one shall not be proud of what they've been doing in their life but please, just think about how you express and say this and then don't even think about projecting this onto other people with the intention of making them feel bad. You can be motivational and inspiring but really, do you want me to be you and do everything that you've done? Are you the perfect human, flawless? Get out of here. I'm so happy for you *slow clap*
Just because all people are not the same as you doesn't mean they are "bad" determined from your life experience and you have the right to slowly judge them. *sigh*
It's not like that I have a lot of these kind of people in my environment but when they occasionally appear I am just struck by fear, for them.
But sure, you keep counting them calories and you have a lucky life. In this situation I really do think that "Like barn leka bäst" and please, leave me alone.
Just less than twelve hours left and I'm hyperventilating. I know, I'm behaving like a child. Nothing is going to happen (I HOPE) with the travel home and if it does I'll work things out. Just the msallest things: it's not like it's one train or one flight. More or less - cab - train - another train and then the last flight.
Can't forget to breath. Or eat for that matter. I hate travelling alone.
Now that I so abruptly are going home I thought that maybe, since it's soon Christmas and all, my followers would like some history behind Spanish Christmas Long story short, they don't have the red Santa Claus here. Instead...
Olentzero. It's a Basque Christmas tradition. According to Basque traditions Olentzero comes to town late at night on the 24th of December to drop off presents for children. Since I'm quite out of sorts I'm just gonna leave you with this link to a website: Find out more about legend of Olentzero!
I was walking far from home Where the names were not burned along the wall Saw a building high as heaven But the door was so small, door was so small I saw rainclouds, little babies And a bridge that had tumbled to the ground I saw sinners making music I've dreamt of that sound, dreamt of that sound I was walking far from home But I carried your letters all the while I saw lovers in a window Whisper, "Want me like time, want me like time" I saw sickness, blooming fruit trees I saw blood and a bit of it was mine I saw children in a river But their lips were still dry, lips were still dry I was walking far from home And I found your face mingled in the crowd Saw a boatful of believers sail off Talking too loud, talking too loud I saw sunlight on the water Saw a bird fall like a hammer from the sky Saw an old woman on the speed train She was closing her eyes, closing her eyes (...) Crying, "Take me back home, take me back home" Saw a highway, saw an ocean I saw widows in the temple to the law Naked dancers in the city How they spoke for us all, spoke for us all Saw loaded linen tables And a motherless colt, then it was gone I saw hungry brothers waiting With a radio on, radio on I was walking far from home Where the names were not burned along the wall Saw a wet road form a circle And it came like a call, came like a call From the Lord
I am very much in love with the concept of fiery, strong men and women dancing. However me, myself, can not execute anything like a flamenco four o'clock in the morning. Being sober. Never underestimate the power of being a little canned.
This sweetheart took me out for some, I don't really know, talking which ended up being a walk and more talk. I think we discussed things such as suicide and Victoria's Secret models. Excellent. Since this is Pamplona we did find a bar that was open and some too advanced dancing occurred Advanced is just to touch it lightly. Woopah Gangnam style.
As the evening passed we found this old bus standing around in one of the market-places. The model, erhm, wrong of me, the journalist executed an excellent modeling session right in front of my eyes and as the lady I am, I politely took a picture, haha. The bus however, what was it doing there? Anyone knows?
Such an important day today. Finally I've been too Huarte, fucking finally. And how was it? Rather... normal - quoting Julia. It's just a matter of acceptance - everything extraordinaire and awesome happens in the summer here. The blooming of everything I'll never discover unless I save up all of my money and return in San Fermin. Challenge accepted!
Yesterday the meter of visitors on this blog, reached a hundred! Holy mother of balls! You, guys, amazing work.
For those who´ve thought about the future of this blog I can calm you with that I will continue writing here. There is more travelling ahead for me and of course, more interesting things to encounter. As well as the people I meet on everyday basics! Don't be afraid of giving me some feedback on my writing and if there is anything you'd like to know before I leave his lovely place, digame!
This spring (just to give you something) I've chose to take on a big task of mine that I think I've pushed in front of me too long now, but I will not spill that secret yet.
WARNING! This post will contain a goofy picture of me. Look at my muscles!
No, let's be serious, my body is quite ready for beach 2013 even though I'm not attending any Beach 2013. Unless it's San Sebastían. Oh, I would get naked for that beach, any time. Did I just say naked? I mean, in a bikini. Gluten free eating for the win!
A smart thing to do before leaving your home country is to buy a guide. Whether you'll stick to the guide or not is up to you but they tend to come in handy. Guides tells us where to go, what to enjoy and and how to maneuver ourselves. This is my guide too "Your Last Night In Pamplona/Iruña"
The preparations starts early with eating potatoes and watching TV series. You don't really need plans. The plans will find you. After that, go for some candy and a stroll around the Casco Veijo. Be sure not to take out any money 'cause you don't know where the night will take you. Return to your current stay and aim at taking a nap.
Voila! Now you're on the way to a friends house. Be sure to wear something you feel comfortable with, like skintight jeans and a sultry top. You look perfect. How did this happen you might ask? Don't ask. Here, in this enormous flat you will have to take a hold of your smoking. It might kill you, you know. Keep sipping on your drink and pretend that you know more spanish than you do.
To spice up the night and unfortunately higher your expectations, watch this as many times as you like.
Shortly after this you'll find yourself heading with some sexy ladies towards a bar. Outside the bar awaits circa twenty-five boys all in their early thirties. Don't look for someone to talk to you, someone will find you. Bam and here we have a model. He talks to you, charms you but what you need to do is to run inside the bar because there is where it happens. What happens? The music. You don't have to cringe because of the music, they mostly play spanish hit tunes blended with The Smiths here.
A girl will ask you "Do you want a beer?" and be sure to remember that you forgot to take out money. On a good day she will save the day and hand you 20 euros. Be sure to smile this entire time you are in the bar. Hand back the change to the girl. She will look surprised as you hand her back 25 euros.
Jemaine from FOTC were there as well as you
Time to explore the area. Inside the bar there is nothing to discover other than bitches trying to push themselves past you so head out. What happens next? Wildly looking FOTC clone appears. Even he is devastatingly charming, have a quick chat with him as well. Be sure to talk to everyone since this is your last night out and you'll never know when this happens again. Maybe never. Feel free to be as attractive as you really are and the compliments will roll in.
All of a sudden the bar closes, where are you heading? You don't even know. Now the model is back. Let him show you his bracelet of CROSSFIT and keep talking to him. Don't say to much about yourself, if you don't like too. Where are we heading? Home.
Walking is now the best medicine for you 'casue let's be honest. You had more than a beer in that bar. Since the model is still faithfully by your side.and you already have him on your hook, be sure to watch your step. Every now and then people don't pick up the shit after their dogs. Be careful. If you are wearing heels you can go for a fake fall, the model will go bananers superman move on you. Don't worry, he does CROSSFIT. If there is a possibility of talking too your friends, do so, but in general they will be to drunk and tired by this hour. It's six in the morning, what are you doing?
You're happy, beautiful and Mister Navarra (I am not kidding) is talking to you. Here the night ends, go back to your room and sleep.
Maybe this was not helpful at all but I had a great night.
Hasta luego,
Louise
So, I told you I was sick for a week, more or less. It started out with what I thought was an normal reaction to drinking. You've all been there, I know that, but in my case I actually thought that someone must have spiced up my drinks a bit 'cause I really felt like shit. And it didn't go off until today. Anyway, living on barely nothing is not something I recommend. So people who live out of rice cakes and water, I don't get it??
The benefits of having an upset stomach for a week is for starters this: You loose a lot of weight and hey, that sounds great. NOT. Because the weight you're actually loosing is water and on plus you loose capability of for example, acting human and the whole eating thing is nothing you manage to do. You look extremely much like a starved jew back in the WWII days and you don't fancy any kind of human contact. Plus you smell so bad. It got so bad I thought I might have gotten some kind of hepatitis or an offspring of it. People were like "You like fine, really" and my response to that is "makeup....makeup...makeup". Well sometimes not even the makeup stays in your face because you're sweating so heavily that it comes off.
The worst part was when my flatmate came home and asked me why the apartment smelled bad and I instantly, "I think it's me, I'm so sorry" than I hunched back into my room and stayed there.
But now it's over or at least I think so. We'll see.
I was going to show you a picture but in a lager scale it looks terrible. My face, dios mio. Kids, don't ever try this at home.
After a week of being completely immobile because of my stomach, I finally went too that dinner with my office. And what a success The waiter was an asshole, we waited for like an hour for our table and as the evening progressed I mostly hung out with my phone more than actually talking with the crew. The food however was OK to be fair and the wine as well. Marvelous!
Yes, the thought might strike you that oneself as myself might miss it here. The wine and such. And you sir, are correct!
This is what I managed to take in somewhat a picture form during the night but imagine that you're sitting in a wine cellar. Nothing fancy and original about it really but it was the company who made the night. And of course, to see everybody get a bit canned.
Prepacked my suitcase just in case of knowing how much junk I'll be able to bring home. Haha, I need a new suitcase already. My room however looks better without stuff in it, bigger. So cleaning out rubbish was a good idea. Gives me a change to buy more rubbish, hihi.
Today is another day of having nothing to do and on top of that I don't have any work. I feel unmotivated and in someway, somehow I woke up this morning and without noticing it my butt stuck in the sofa after breakfast. There has been three hours and I am still stuck here. What's making me feel worse is that I always have the tendency to watch motivational fitness pictures when I restlessly have nothing to do. But I really don't have the urge of running or working out (not that I'm a quitter, back home I'll probably begin exercising again) and there is nothing wrong with my butt and one pound fat is larger than one pound of muscles. Ayayay, my head. Should I go shopping, maybe for Christmas presents? I don't even think that anything is open today and is it legit to buy wine as a Christmas gift? Or a cheese. Searching the net for advice is useless. "No, I don't feel like buying a mankini...or a vibrator that looks like Santa Claus". Usually I just find the perfect gifts by accident.
(I take no credit of this picture. I don't know who she is so don't ask me about her phone number)
When I mentioned a couple of weeks ago about the flatlugg by other words also called the basque hairdo, I meant something like this. The fringe you can also get in shorter editions, like babyhair short. This is however, what most of the girls look like here. So when are you planning to make your trip to Pamplona? And mostly everyone have had their nose pierced and some of them are gypsy. Exotic <3
The usual input. What has it been now? One week, two?
Last week I just felt like shit and stayed in most of the time. Maybe I went through some kind of depression since shit is happening so fast and all I wanna do is to actually go home, back to my cold winterland Sweden. It ain't that bad, people! But I stand tall and will make these last weeks fucking perfect. And so I did.
Last Saturday Julia and I went for San Sebastían. Even though our bus was full and we had to go for another, we eventually made it. After two hours and a round tour in most of the cities in Navarra.
The pinchos were good and the beer better.That piece of salmon tickled my taste buds just in the right places and have you every heard about the queso Idiazábal (the link is in spanish). I approve of that cheese. I am thinking about starting a expost/import business. Here they need glögg and us people in Sweden need this cheese.
I found crepes with nutella (not like them crepes in Aix but nothing beats nutella) and while we were at it, we bought a fake tit. Why not, actually? Unfortunately I think we lost it later that night. Well, that is what happens when you carry your tits out, apparently. Que pena. Such a nice tit. And I made Julia buy fake lashes, hehe. But totally worth it since she has these criminally long lashes and with them her eyes looked dashing. Everything about her looked dashing that night. If I looked dashing? No, I was drunk.
In these pictures it looks so cold but it was nice and we got some healthy sun. Also the shores were beautiful. Like any other summer resort.
From the port side of San Sebastían. There was this lovely, long walk and hysterically many people running/jogging/exercising who kept bumping into us.
