Guess what?

I have a sauna.

There isn't really a way to encapsulate the events of last week, since I left the States. I traveled for 30 hours, on three planes and two trains. I met an architecture student from Denmark on my flight over the Atlantic, a satellite technician working for NATO in Naples on the plane to Washington, a German anesthetist on the train to Nassjo, and students from Australia, Kazakhstan, France and a dozen other countries.

I've started the painfully slow process of learning a new language, gone on a pub crawl, eaten Swedish meatballs in an Ikea, and taken the bus approximately five million times (with a projected 25 million to go).

I'm living in the Raslatt apartment buildings in a suburb of Jonkoping. The buildings are painted in shockingly horrible pastel patterns, but my flat is relatively nice. The same space would house twice as many students at CC.

And yeah, the student common room has a sauna.

Cheers,
Daniel

Now Boarding

I'm staring at the McDonald's sandwich I just bought with more than a little trepidation as I start this post. My flight takes off in about an hour and a half, and there's nothing to do except put off eating my Sausage Biscuit with Egg for a few more minutes. The guy across the aisle from me is struggling mightily to sleep in these deceivingly awful waiting chairs. He's managed some impressive contortions so far, including several I didn't think were possible unless one had several decades of yoga experience.

Here's an idea: rent out one of those airport shops, and start a nap clinic! It would need soundproofed sleeping areas, because airports are loud, and some method of waking clients up peacefully. Also, the employees would have to be screened for massive amounts of patience, because the only thing worse than airport travelers are ones who have just woken up.

But seriously--I'd design a sort of sci-fi sleeping cot, with a transparent, sound-proof...lid, I guess you'd call it. It'd have that awesome foam sleeping stuff, and a nice pillow, and the lid would gradually light up when people wanted to wake up. They could also have an employee wake them up, too. I'd charge people by the hour, and sell sleep paraphernalia in the lobby. You saw it here first, ladies and gentlemen. No stealing.

Moving on from silly ideas, I'm finally starting to get truly, viscerally excited. In some ways I'm dreading the next 30 odd hours of travel, but I think it'll be really, really cool.

Now it's only half an hour 'till boarding, but my sandwich isn't looking any more appetizing. I'm thinking it's a lost cause. That 30 wasn't a typo, by the way. I won't get to Jonkoping until 6:00 tomorrow night (CET, or the Swedish time zone). I'm flying to Washington right now, and I'll land in Dulles close to 4:00. Then, my flight to Copenhagen takes off at 5:15, and I'll get there (plus the time change) at 7:00 in the morning. It's a short hop to Stockholm at 8:00, and then I'll wander through customs, and grab a train to Jonkoping at around noon. Finally, after a stopover in Nassjo, I'll stumble into Jonkoping. I anticipate a good night's sleep.

On a side note, some lady sat down right in my line of sight out the window, preventing me from watching the planes take off and land for fear of appearing like I'm staring at her. Drat.

Oh, and I threw the sandwich away.

Cheers,
Daniel

Just Sleep Left

I wrote a bunch of stuff about how messy my room was, and the packing process, and even mentioned I only had just over 36 hours before my flight left. Then, as I was about to publish it today, I realized none of it still applied. My room is (mostly) clean, I'm (almost) completely packed, and I've got 12 hours to go before I fly to Washington. It's 17 hours until I leave the country, but that's just nit picking.

Here's the picture I was going to include in the section about how much of a mess my room was. This is, mind you, after about three days of cleaning.

Missing from this picture: About 40 books, a couch, and two loads of laundry.

I'm not particularly emotional at this point. A little excited, sure, and maybe even a little scared. Mostly, however, I just don't know what to expect, and I'm really interested in how this'll go.

I managed to do everything on the checklist from the other day except see friends. I may have mentioned it before, but I'll repeat: I've been feeling rather antisocial this past month or so. It's not a conscious choice, but I guess I've checked out a bit in anticipation of not being here. It's an illogical decision, as a lot of the friends I was trying to see are ones I don't see for longer than six months at a time. There seems to be something very final about this trip, though. The more I contemplate the days ahead, the slower they take to arrive.

To do:
1. Leave

Cheers,
Daniel