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It's time to hit the road again (or shall I say the friendly skies!)
was the epitome of a typical day in Oslo...after sprinting (literally, I was at the wrong dock) we met up at the boat docks by prostitution ally (yes, among the beauty of Oslo there is prostitution). We took a quick boat to Hovedøya island, in the Oslo fjord, for a day of sun and picnicking. The Nor-weegies live a quality life unlike any other 
culture, they love the nature (fjord, forests, mountains, lakes) and spend quite a lot of time enjoying it. So, we did it up Nor-weegie style! We arrived at noon and caught the 7 p.m. boat back to Oslo. No worries, nowhere else to go, and no time constraints. The day was filled with engangsgrill... a disposible grill (very wasteful but a great way to picnic!), lots of sun, an otherwise chaotic frisbee throwing s
ession, laughs, ants, big cruise ships, sailboats, hot dogs, salmon and potato wraps. Then, we topped off this epic and beautiful day with drinks at an english pub where the dichotomy of Oslo beauty played out right in front of our eyes; as we watched a Norwegian man buy a prostitute and drinks before committing an ugly act. 
Over the past 4 months I have vowed my love and devotion to this inanimate object I lovingly call, Mr. Thesis (Mr. T, for short). Mr. T and I were the type of companions that just existed as one. We went on hikes together (see picture), we walked to campus everyday, spent long days together learning about each other and discovering strengths and weaknesses, and we even went on a BIG trip together across the Atlantic Ocean (to visit Georgia a
nd Colorado). I introduced him to my family and he made quite a good first impression, my brother thought Mr. T was so cool that he invited him to visit (Obrigata, little kid bro..for proofing). Of course Mr. T & I had a few rough spots, like that one day I wanted to light him on fire and watch his ashes spiral to the depths of the Oslo fjord. But, for the most part we fell in love! However, now that love is fading away, as I have molded and changed him to the best of my ability and well...its just not F-U-N anymore. Therefore, I'm filing the divorce papers on Monday.
Just in the last week, the sun has arrived, carrying with it spring --by piggyback. Previous to this week, it was cold (30-40F), rainy, and quite dreary. But now the t
ulips are blo
oming, the trees have buds, everyone is biking, walking, grilling...Oslo is waking up! I love SPRING, it is 
my favorite season...the new growth always seems to be symbolic of life patterns. When I arrived in Oslo, the days were short and dark, it felt like the big bear was hibernating. Now, the days are l
onger, sunrise at 5:30 a.m. and sunset at 9 p.m., and as summer gradually arrives the days will only get longer. The hiking trails have become super highways, the park has become a meeting spot for BBQ's and sports, and even a woman walking her dog smiled at me yesterday 
(which is a rarity 
in the Norwegian culture.) 
Living abroad, I've learned that my local friends are extremely important to my daily well-being, not only to speak English with, but also to digest and make sense of the daily cultural experiences, frustrations, and funny moments. And, believe me I've had plenty of funny cultural moments (more like embarrassing moments!) Anyway, this blog is dedicated to my local buddies here in Oslo. The friends who keep me sane (especially during this thesis process), make me laugh, and are just there for support! In Portugal we would say, Obrigata! For some reason, the conversation at the dinner parties these past two Saturday's were intense, and completely unfiltered. Meaning...any topic was open for unfiltered, REAL, and otherwise shocking conversation. Here is a quick peak at some of those moments...
y moments, not really taking life all that serious. It is a similar feeling to what I have experienced the past year and a half; traveling, laughing, and living day-for-day, moment-for-moment. Simply enjoying life and forgetting that somewhere out there reality beckons. I suppose now my 'free-spiritedness' is a bit different than back in 1991, as I appreciate it more and I'm more reflective about it. I guess the reason why I'm writing this blog is because I miss it a bit. I feel shackled to this damn thesis... soon, I will be back to living with a free-spirit, after the thesis and before the PhD.
Yep, the deadline is fast approaching and after meeting with my supervisor yesterday, I figure an interpretive dance would be a much better way of expressing my findings and conclusions. Woo! (Imagine Michael Jackson doing the moonwalk)! Owww!
Ha, ha! I wish it could be that simple. A few days ago I heard myself say, "Ah, I maybe have 20 hours more before I'm done." Ha, maybe 50 hours is more like it. But, as pressure has a weird way of motivating me, I'll get it done. No worries!
The weather has been playing in my favor (I'm trying hard to put a positive twist on this dreafully soggy existence I am now living!) The sun is on vacation in the South of Europe, so I'm keeping to the warmth and dryness of my comfy black chair (with beautiful lumbar support) in the library. And, I love my tea/coff
ee meetings (and much needed breaks) with my friends.
women enjoying their 1 year PAID maternity leave as they leisurely take their babies for a stroll. I'm sucking in as much of these 'Oslo favorites' as I can before the dreadful D-DAY comes. Remind me...why do I want to do a PhD back home?
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We must celebrate today because this is my 232nd blog entry, Woohoo! Time to take the bus to the Vinmonopolet (liquor store) and get myself a 100 kroner (12 euro/18 US) bottle of wine. Yes, believe it...that is what it costs (on average) to buy a decent bottle of wine in Norway. Did you know that the Norwegian government has owned all of the liquor stores (this is the same case in Finland) since 1939? Crazy, huh? I guess that there was a turbulent past with Norwegians drinking habits and after the temperance movement the state took over. See pic from 1920's Vinmonopolet. The Norwegian alcohol policies ensure that there is no private profit from alcohol sales, therefore the state owns it (and pockets all of the money.) Ah, come on, afterall this is a socialist country, so the proceeds go to universal health care or social s
ecurity and a beautiful prison retreat on an island.The Vinmonopolet's motto is, "A Modern Chain with a Social Responsibility."
Travelin' can be a wacky world of trials and tribulations, love and hate, laughs and anger, Starbucks chai (yummy) and United airplane food that makes you want to gag. This trip was a particularly long, yet entertaining journey. After 10 hours of waiting for a delayed flight from Denver to Chicago (due to bad weather), I managed to MISS the damn flight (where I was supposed to catch a connecting flight to Europe). I hate traveling. As I was waiting in line to speak with an airline representative, not only did a young lady fill my ears with shameful stories of being fired from her job, but a "window of opportunity" arose and my flight to Chicago left without me. I hate traveling. Oh well, another night to drive my parents crazy and a flight upgrade (economy plus) that left the next day, I wasn't complaining...but my thesis was! I love traveling. PHOTO: According to Ryanair.com, this is the new airport security procedure.
A LAYOVER IN CHICAGO! I was on lap number five of my pre-transatlantic flight workout (fast walking up and down the terminal with many people staring at me) when I saw a familiar face. It was LANCE (see photo...this photo was NOT taken in the Chicago airport)!!! After a big hug and a happy reunion with my dear friend from Colorado, we quickly jetted to the nearest bar for a quick cocktail catch-up. I love traveling. Wearing a big smile, I boarded my flight to London. I sat next to the only Texan who is not only head-over Hillary Clinton, but a delegate for Hillary Clinton. We talked politics, befriended our gay flight attendant who sprinkled us with the gift of free wine and many laughs. I love traveling. Finally, the sandman sprinkled his sleep dust and I watched the back of my eyelids for 2 hours.
e (because that is just what you do if you live in Oslo)...I grabbed a luggage cart...I watched everyone around me pick up their luggage...NO LUGGAGE! Go figure. I hate traveling. Reported my missing luggage and jumped on the flytoget train and realized...NO HOUSE KEYS (I had put them in my backpack that was securely packed in my checked luggage)! The rain was falling. Suddenly, I went into prayer mode (and I'm not even religious), hoping/begging that one of my roommates was at home. After 53 hours of my original flight departure, I arrived home and my Norwegian roommate opened the door for me. Welcome to Oslo! PHOTO: An SAS meal posted on airlinemeals.net.
After a quick trip to Athens, Georgia, I paid an additional $50 US dollars for my overweight luggage and I was ready to surprise my parents, who didn't know I was coming home. One week back home was just enough time to see my dear friends in Boulder, Colorado, ski my butt off, and spend time with family and friends at Easter celebrations. Boulder is truly 
where my heart is...it is "home"...I just fit it...and the living is easy. You can walk everywhere or public 
transportation will take you there, people are internationally-minded and active, and the mountain backdrop is the topping on the cake. 
Someday I will move back here, until 
then I will enjoy my little visits.
onto expedia to check out flights home. There were two reasons to fly home: 1.) I hadn't been home for over 15 months, and 2.) 
I needed to check out the campus town of Athens, Georgia where I could potentially be spending the next 4 years of my life in the pursuit of a PhD. So, I booked a flight and in less than 6 days I found myself sleeping in the Oslo airport with 2 big 5o lb (23kg) bags of home-bound loot. With an early morning flight and no trains to get me there on time, sleeping overnight in the Oslo airport was quite a spectacle...as I wasn't the only one doing it. Luckily, I found myself a nice comfy booth to sprawl out on and when I woke at 3 a.m., there was carnage everywhere (people laid out on the floors, luggage carts, and even on top of tables). PHOTOS: Pics of University of Georgia campus.
CULTURE SHOCK!!! The fog of jet-lag settled in as I arrived in Atlanta with all of these happy, smiley Southerners. Why are these people so happy? Going from the Norwegian culture to the southern American culture is quite a leap. People were calling me "Ma'am" and men in camouflage were swallowing their fear as they enjoyed the last few hours of freedom, before deploying to Iraq. After waiting for 2 hours the only shuttle company that drives to Athens picked me up and I was on my way to debunk my southern stereotypes. PHOTO: Typical license plate.
nd BYOB (Bring Your Own Brew), cute cafes, and or
ganic food markets. The faculty are down-to-earth, well-funded, living posh in their own building, and interested in i
nternational work (which is high priority for me). In true American fashion, the most important thing I must consider is the school mascot and colors...can I be a Bulldog, "DAWG", and wear red? PHOTOS: Anti-war protest on campus, football field (yeah!), bulldog tongue. 
