A Rolling...Block

They (yes, the 'they' we all take heed of and yet can't seem to really figure out the identities of) say that a rolling stone gathers no moss. Keep thinking and working, innovating and allowing your creative juices to flow, and your cognitive skills won't ever get rusty (or mossy, so to speak).

Just a few days ago, I turned 21. Yes, I made it. Leaped over the last barrier excluding me from the rest of adult society in the United States. This is usually the point at which a normal college student would create a drinks list, grab a permanent marker, and be marched into a series of bars, as what little consciousness remaining after a hard pre-game slips away, to be fed 21 shots at all costs.

Thankfully, having spent the last semester in Sweden and getting used to social drinking, working in a bar, and otherwise spending copious amounts of time around alcohol, I was not nearly as thrilled with this 21 shots prospect as society dictated I ought to be. So, instead of an all-out, blackout, getting-kicked-out, throw-up-then-curl-up, and hug-the-toilet kind of night, 8 of us spent the night together for a lovely dinner at Colors, then did a little tour around downtown.

We trekked over to Holly's NYU dormitory so she could grab the remainder of some decent and some not-so-decent alcohol, then headed over to Gold Street to hang out on the roof of Jon's building. The view from up there was absolutely beautiful, not to mention the roof itself which was incredibly lovely. With Jon staying behind, we headed off to buy a few 6-packs, said a temporary farewell to Holly, and wandered over to South Street Seaport.

Best way to ring in midnight of your birthday? Running around looking for the toilet, finding it, then running back for hugs, kisses, and lots of love.

Kevin and Sarah then peel off from the group, leaving Hudson, Tyler, Raph, and myself to go over to Saint Mark's Place and meet up with Holly again. A cone of fries, a few drinks and attempted bar entry (I say attempted because poor Raph was still 20 and the bouncer wouldn't let him slide) later, we end up at a Japanese noodle house.

The night winds down and a few blocks later, we part ways and thus ends the peaceful and extremely satisfying first hours of my 21st year.

Now, what is the reason for the title of this post?

I was thinking about how as we get older, it's important to keep in mind that the constant use of a skill, the "rolling stone," keeps it from growing moss...sticking, and in the sense of a skill, stagnating.

But you know, life is like that too. You need to keep going no matter what small pebbles are chipped off of you, no matter what puddles of mud try to slow you down. Life is like that- an endless, sloped plane with any number of difficulties tossed in the path of your rolling. Some obstacles are so difficult to get over, but I've realized that sometimes the hardest aren't always external.

We build a lot of our own obstacles and I think one of those is age. At my age, I could still be considered a growing individual. I don't feel that I'm at my intellectual prime yet because I know so little about the world and the professional arena. But what happens when you have gone past your prime and each year that rolls by you is one you want to hold on to?

I got a taste of this feeling recently. It's not that I don't want to be 21, but I just feel that it's unnecessary to be 21 at all. What benefit does this numerical age offer me? Age feels like a burden; as if I was a rolling stone that had been turned into a rolling block. Each flat side was the span of a year and the effort of turning over that corner onto the next flat side was the equivalent effort needed to keep dragging oneself forward through the rigors of everyday life with the knowledge that you were 365 days older than when you last counted.

The very thought of this has depressed me all over again.

Recently I have been feeling more like a block than a round boulder, but I suspect this might be caused by a lack of employment offering monetary rewards, the swiftly-arriving end of my college career, and the sharp realization of what expectations I've met, yet to live up to, and have already failed.

With the advent of the school year, however, I am confident that the familiar rhythms of academia can allay my fears, build up my store of knowledge and self-assurance, and give me the what it takes to turn my angular form and irregular rolling into something smoother and rounder that can speed forward with a greater sense of purpose.

Dissatisfaction

I wonder how it is that someone who has attended one of the best middle and high schools in the country, gone on to an Ivy league school, and had such an amazing semester abroad can still have achieved so little and be such a failure.

Cyber Century: Rise of the Coward

It has recently come to my attention that the use of anonymity online is extending past its boundaries of "detached news story" to "my Facebook news feed." (On a side note, "Facebook" is not noted to be spelled incorrectly by my spell check function, but "facebook" is, haha.)

I'm talking about formspring.me.

Usually, this wouldn't bother me too much. I would normally attribute such things to stupid and short-lived trends in the web-savvy population, but after seeing so many formspring.me accounts springing up on my Facebook news feed, I got to wondering how such things develop and what it means about the general mentality of the users. Because it is so easy to stay anonymous now, specifically in reference to these online accounts, what does that mean about people today?

Could it be we are staying anonymous so we can ask genuinely interesting questions without having to remain excessively PC as society dictates we ought to be? That may not be a bad thing at all. Often the media blows delicate situations out of proportion, using a speaker's lack of political correctness as an excuse to create rifts in society and stir up situations that benefit no one but the media outlet's bottom line. Anonymity has also been beneficial in terms of allowing bloggers and political dissidents to spread awareness of governmental corruption or certain types of sensitive information.

However, I know everyone who is reading this is also very well aware of what damage such anonymity can cause. Cyber bullying is one such example. In March of this year, a 17 year old girl committed suicide because of anonymous abusive comments left on her formspring account. So what does this mean?

I'm not too sure, actually. I'm tempted to think that this type of freedom is more detrimental than constructive and fosters the growth of an entire generation of adolescent cowards. It isn't my intention to sound high and mighty, swinging the torch of truth and pretending to be self righteous, but I want to really take a look at what the use of anonymous user websites and platforms are doing, or rather, have done.

As it was the rise of formspring.me that brought this to my attention, I will use it as my core example. Of course there are countless other examples, such as Facebook's "Honesty box" application or even the use of instant messaging accounts on AIM, but it would be redundant to address each one separately, not to mention exhausting and nearly impossible.

A few of my friends have used created formspring accounts, linked them to their Facebook profiles, and shared the link with everyone. From looking at these accounts and what questions people have posted, I can't say that I have been particularly impressed with what is going on. There is the usual playful banter between friends who can be easily identified by a unique typing style, trivial questions about random events, and other unremarkable comments. Not a big deal, but I see no reason for this platform to exist if anonymity isn't necessary for this type of communication to begin with. The argument for amusement can be made, and I'll accept that, but I'm simply saying that the anonymity isn't lending anything to the user experience.

Questions like "What do you want in a partner" however, really are troublesome.

First of all, if you are an individual who is interested in another person, wouldn't it be best to understand what kind of person they are attracted to by, dare I say, getting to know them? Second, even after knowing what this individual wants in a significant other, would you go through the effort of changing yourself to fit that ideal before getting to know them? What many people treasure about relationships includes the process of changing together and knowing someone's "before" and "after" tendencies. Third, whatever happened to manning up (this applies to girls too) and saying these things face to face?

There is nothing wrong with a lack of confidence, but I feel there is a difference between being shy and a coward.

On the flip side, what can be said about people who create formspring accounts intending to share parts of themselves that actually hold substance and value as opposed to those who do it simply for the amusement factor?

I truly don't know what to say about this. On one hand it's somewhat awkward, because what it means is that there are friends you have who don't feel comfortable enough with you to ask certain questions. I wonder, isn't feeling comfortable with another individual the basis for forming a friendship with them? I understand there are definitely some questions you would not ask, but if this person wants to tell you, don't you think they'd tell you when they feel ready?

It's very interesting how the internet changes the way we think and act around each other. I wish there was a way to compare social interactions from the beginning of modern man's evolution until the present.

I need a better background in psychology than AP Psych and Psych 101 with Prof. Maas.

ZIMBARDO!

Home, (Sweet?) Home

I've just completed my first full day back in the good old U.S. of A. and how strange it is!

After getting a ride to the airport (tack, Filip!) and jumping on my plane, the shock of leaving Sweden finally set in. Of course, I was sad about leaving Uppsala and was close to tears a few times but really the idea of not seeing them again for years, maybe forever in some cases, didn't hit home until I was in my seat and starting to zone out during the safety videos.

Where will everyone be when I have enough money and the time to go back? Will we stay close enough for me to come back to see them? How long can a close friendship last without real physical and face-to-face contact?

I had so many questions floating around in my head that the level of certainty I left Uppsala with regarding how well I could maintain these friendships began to crumble. However, actually landing in Newark and settling back into New York has had the relatively interesting effect of soothing my anxiety and increasing my desire to go back.

On the plane, I also made friends with the guy sitting next to me, Mark, and his brother. They were heading to NYC from Stockholm for a 4 day vacation with their father. Interestingly, this Swede was very open and talkative from the start-- not very usual because the norm in Sweden is that you don't start a conversation with someone if you don't know them. Perhaps our conversation was instigated by the fact that he knew I was American. Curious. Chatting with him made the otherwise uneventful trip quite enjoyable.

Upon landing, Mark and his brother craned their necks to see out the windows and remarked on how different the skyline was as compared with their native Stockholm. That was definitely something I noticed when I traveled in Europe too-- the skylines are older with beautifully engineered structures which may not be as tall as our skyscrapers, but make up for height in grace and age.

When I left the airport with my parents I really saw how many large vehicles there were on the streets and was appalled at the sheer waste of it all. Who in the world needs an SUV when they live in the city? It's understandable if you have a job involving construction or if you have a trailer you need to pull around, but really what is the use of a gas guzzling monster if it isn't necessary?

A confession: I am a judgmental person. I was at my worst in the middle school years, steadily became less judgmental from senior year onwards, then toppled back down again after returning from Sweden. I think I've become more critical of the American lifestyle since coming back and the reverse culture shock has made it worse. When you get a glimpse of something closer to your ideal, it's harder to go back.

Being home is nice though. The house has the smell of spring nestled in every corner, my rabbit is still alive, my cactus is thriving, and I have all the Asian food I could ever eat. I have my loving family, friends who are working in the city this summer, and a wonderful boyfriend to come back to.

Some things have changed though, and not really for the better. My maternal grandparents have had some issues with their health and I think this has really taken a toll on them as well as my family. My grandmother has become especially snippy and often scolds my grandfather for minor things or nothing at all. Mounting tensions in their overcrowded home (my uncle and his family live there too) has also affected the overall health of everyone involved. Even my little sister who was so eager to stay close to home for college now can't wait to leave.

Usually there isn't much anyone can do in this type of situation, but I'm glad to be home so at least I can buffer the sharp edges of my grandmother's tongue. Apparently, as she told me this evening, she likes just hearing my voice so anytime she gets angry or annoyed, so long as I am there I can talk to her and calm her down. This at least takes some of my worry away from her blood pressure.

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On another note, here's a cool article Sarah showed me about parental leave in Sweden:

http://www.nytimes.com/2010/06/10/world/europe/10iht-sweden.html?src=me&ref=general

I admit to checking out some of the young fathers out on daddy dates. Who knew a stroller and cute baby could be the best accessory a man could have?

Shame and Embarrassment

My whole life I've grown up loving my country and everything we stand for. I love the basic tenants of our government (even though it doesn't seem the separation between church and state is as clear as dear Mr. Jefferson wanted it to be) and I love the rights that I have as an American. I love my friends and family and how we have the freedom to be together and do what we wish.

There have been instances though, which I have been made painfully aware of while here, where I am truly embarrassed to be associated with other Americans. Embarrassment because I can see, clearer than ever, how rude, insensitive, and coarse some Americans are. What citizen of another nationality would sit in a Swedish cafe and lambast the country's love of its royal family and sneer at the pride they take in the crown princess's wedding?

I could have died.

We are crude. We are loud. Our sense of humor tends towards vulgarity and female abuse. And what about respect? Would you not think that with the country being founded by the prudes of European society we would have developed a culture that centers around respect? Apparently not.

What makes this worse, is that these two individuals who so insensitively criticized the royal family are both Cornell students. One, in particular, succeeded in being so loud and rude about his opinions that our group (three Americans including myself, two Austrians, a Hungarian, a Kiwi, and a Frenchwoman) earned the dirty looks of the Swedes sitting at neighboring tables.

I was so irritated that after I checked his outburst, I couldn't concentrate on studying any longer and sat next to my Austrian friend trying to explain the factor of relatedness in bees to her. I believe the other American caught my death stares at the excessively rude individual and was more subdued for it. My Austrian friend, Isolde, could very well tell that I was bothered too.

Biking back from the library and talking to her just now, I felt profound relief as I heard her explain that although there were individuals in our group who fit the American stereotype, I was most certainly not one of them. But the anger and disappointment I felt was so crushing, that the depression still has not lifted. What to do?

The pressure I felt coming here as an American to show the best image of our country that I could was relieved little by little as I made more and more foreign friends (especially with Swedes). And now after this shocking incident, the pressure has descended once again and made me realize that no matter how much one works to change a world view, there will always be twice the number to reverse it again.

Time Waits For No Man, But I Wish It Would Wait For Me

It's been a while since my last serious post and so much has happened since then.

There are definitely advantages to traveling, that goes without saying, but there are just as many advantages to staying in one place. What I wish I'd done sooner was put down some roots here in Uppsala and gotten to know my fellow nation members. We'll always have regrets though, so all anyone can ever do is to live life with as few of them as possible.

I've learned so much from my time abroad that it's almost impossible to keep track of all the lessons. This post is to help do that, but more let everyone else know what wonders can be discovered when you leave your home and decide to set up shop elsewhere.

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First, when you are presented with a new opportunity, no matter what kind of opportunity it is, seize it by the throat and wring everything you can from it. Actually, that sounds a bit brutal doesn't it? I realize it might sound uncouth, but really "Get the most out of it" just doesn't convey the same type of mental imagery and also sounds a bit weak to me.

My opportunity was to go abroad. Did I get the most from it? I think so! Or at least I tried.

In terms of traveling, I don't think I've had such an amazing time before. I managed to see Paris, Granville, the Mont Saint Michel, San Malo, the Emerald Coast, and a few other places in Bretagne and Normandy I can't quite remember, Brussels, Waterloo, Louvain la Neuve, Bruges, Aachen, Maastricht, Amsterdam, Prague, Kutna Hora, Terezin, Kiruna, Björkliden, Abisko, Stockholm, Falun, Borlange, Rome, Copenhagen, and Helsingør.

Suffice it to say, after spending the first half of the semester running around, it was nice to stay put for a while. I believe I've definitely made the most of Ryanair and the Swedish rail system.

And have I made the most of my time here, rooted in Sweden?

I say that I wish I'd put roots down here in this beautiful city earlier, but now what I wish is that I'd had the opportunity to stay here longer than a semester. People have warned me about the Swedish mentality and how they act towards outsiders. They're supposed to be cold and distant until you break through their icy exterior and realize they're all cuddles and snapps. I don't think I've had to put forth so much effort as I thought I would, but perhaps that's because I came prepared. In any case, I believe wholeheartedly that I've achieved that and am proud to call some of the most amazing people I've ever met my dear friends.

Being open, honest, and outgoing can get you so far that it's hard to imagine how I might have survived here if I'd been just a smidgen shyer. Okay, so I could have survived, but I wouldn't have been able to live it up as I have been this past month and a half.

When I returned from Belgium and decided to stop traveling for a while, I figured it was as good a time as any to keep working. I'd worked once before as a barback for the pub with John (one of the barhosts) and really enjoyed it, and so looked forward to getting called back again for more work. Little did I know what wonders awaited me.

Before anyone else, I have to thank Hannes, the 3rd Curator of Varmlands Nation, for everything he's done, which is everything, essentially. I went in pretty late in the semester to sign up for work, and after talking to him and signing up, he recommended me for work when the bar hosts were looking for pub workers. He recommended me on the basis of a "good vibe," so to that, Hannes, I say tack så mycket!

I'm also really grateful to my friend John, one of the bar hosts, who was my first boss and really got me involved in the nation. He's probably one of the most easygoing and fun people I've met here. That's another reason I'm so sad to be leaving Sweden already-- all the people who I've become close to here in Varmlands Nation are so open, understanding, energetic, and full of life. These are people I can be ridiculous with without worrying how they'll perceive me. Sometimes they even increase the level of weirdness and ridiculousness I am capable of expressing.

After I'd worked at the pub a few more times, I became familiar with Linda, who works in the kitchen, and Klara, who is the Kitchen master, and Lotta, who works in the cafe and sometimes pub as well. These girls are so awesome, it's incredible. Demure Swedish girls? Not! They have so much energy and are so outgoing I can't understand how I didn't meet them earlier.

Then of course there's Christopher Robin, seriously one of the most adorable people I've ever met, Gustaf, who I nicknamed Vasaloppet the first day I met him, and Mikael and Gabriella, definitely two of the most sweet and loving people at the nation. There are people who I only got to know towards the end of my time here, like Gozzi, Filip, and Johan, and who I will be very sad to leave after knowing them for only this last short month. Of course there are others, but to list them all and explain how they've made my experience here so much richer would take much more than a simple blog post.

Once you've been "accepted" into a circle, then you know everyone. About a week after I started hanging out at Varmlands and working there regularly, I was immersed in a sea of Swedish love. Suddenly I had tripled my circle of friends and was incapable of understanding over half the notifications that popped up on my Facebook news feed. Another reason to learn Swedish.

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Second, whenever you're presented with a task, give more than 110%. People really appreciate hard work and especially if you're working with a smile.

I think because everyone was so open and because they welcomed me with open arms, I was that much more willing to do what I could for the nation. The pay is bad, but the company that I have while I'm there is priceless.

Serving is an awesome experience because you learn so much about how an organization operates, how to work with other types of people in a job that is more physically labor intensive than school courses, how to please other people, and have fun doing it. I love being a bar back and running up and down those 3 flights of stairs between the pub, main hall, and kitchen. I love greeting people at the door. I love being a bartender and doling out liquid fun, as well as learning to make new drinks.

The cool thing about working with bartenders too is that they tend to be not just an endless source of fun and cheer, but they are also very creative people. If you spend so much of your time mixing flavors and perfecting pouring layers, there's no way you'd be boring.

They also make cleaning FUN. Who knew? I actually enjoyed scrubbing the kitchen sink and mopping the floor. My mom would kill to have me clean at home like I do at the Nation, hahaha.

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My third and last lesson for this post is something I learned from Mattias Klum, a National Geographic photographer and the closest thing to a hero I've ever had, and that is to stay naked.

Nakedness in every sense of the word is not really seen as anything positive in our society. People become distrustful as they get older, walling themselves off from others, only opening up to certain people and socializing in familiar circles.

Mattias Klum explained to a very excited and nervous, shaky me who went to go talk to him during a break in his presentation, that he tries his best to stay in this "naked" state, as he referred to it. When people put up walls, he explained, it's a very natural thing to do and in this society, something very necessary. But he works hard to keep those walls down, sharing his ideas and inciting passion by making a very fundamental connection between himself and other people.

This idea comes across in all his photos, with which he tries to link the heart and mind- a recipe for passion.

But why does it matter so much that you keep the walls down if it's such a natural part of socialization?

I believe these protective mental blockades are detrimental to a person's ability to realize their full potential in any circumstances. When you pull down the shields it becomes easier to talk and relate to other people, which encourages an equally open response. This automatically makes someone a more outgoing and confident person because they need to concentrate so much less on what to hide and what to reveal as opposed to being free and open.

I hadn't realized how important this idea of vulnerability and nakedness was until I really thought about what it was that I was doing differently here compared to what I'd been doing up until I met the nation members. Raph mentioned he though Sweden changed me in a few ways, one of them being that I'd become more outgoing. I think that's definitely true and in that respect I have one other person to thank as well.

Starting with Sarah, who changed me from a misanthropic, antisocial nerd into a people-loving, socially fluent dork, I've come to this point where all my Swedish friends have helped me become more confident and understand life beyond my home and university. They've also shown me that the pool of people who are cool and nerdy is not as small as I'd feared. Where else would you find a mansionful of people who drink and sing until 8 in the morning and then go to a LAN party the next day?

When I became involved with this close community of people, I wasn't conscious of the fact that I was indeed being more open and unguarded. But after thinking about how much I'd miss everyone after I left, I got to wondering why that was so. After all, how many people do you meet and know for a few months then feel heartbroken about leaving? It's because we didn't have to be guarded around each other and felt comfortable to joke around and work together as if we'd known each other the entire semester.

It's going to be tough to leave this beautiful city.

I Love My Socialist Nightmare

http://www.thedailyshow.com/watch/tue-april-21-2009/the-stockholm-syndrome-pt--1