Category Archives: nostalgic

The strength of having friends

It’s remarkable what a difference a friend can make. I had forgotten how good they were to have. For the past few years I feel like I’ve had to rely on myself, my hubby, and my parents, with no real outer connections that I felt I could rely on. Not to say that I haven’t had friends, but everybody’s been so busy with their own thing (which is fine, that’s life after all, I guess), that I haven’t felt like I’ve had any true friends that I felt comfortable with just calling out of the blue unless I had big plans that gathered all of them, and where they all had about a month to plan ahead. I’ve been hungering for a sense of belonging. It’s why I’ve missed my home town so much.

It’s a little different now. I still miss my friends back home, because they’ve been around so long, and I can rely on them, and I belong, while these new ones are, well, new. Lets see how long this feeling of belonging lasts.

Either way, I’m getting to meet some of them next week on ones of these planned “events”, and at the end of the month I’m meeting the rest of them in my home town. Very much looking forward to it.


I found myself some Inari!!

Anyone who knows me, knows that I’m total foodie. Not in the sense that I only eat the most expensive stuff but I love food, everything from the very cheap, to the very expensive. It should either be an explosion of tastes, of very good quality (made with love and effort), or just something that quite simply tastes different. I’ve also been lucky enough to’ve been born into a family that’s travelled to and lived in many many countries, which means I’ve been exposed to a variety of tastes and many that aren’t easily accessible wherever one goes. To give a few examples: Indonesian peanut sauce (works with absolutely everything) and “French” crêpes (but with Nutella, banana or strawberry, and cheese!), an Indian snack that I have no clue what the name of is).

Anyway, Inari (?) is one of those hard-to-find-but-so-very-scrumptious foods that I’ve been searching far and wide for, after getting a taste of it when living in Nepal. I found a store in sthlm that sold (but could never find it again), and now again, 10 years I found a place here in Malmö that also sells it. I was almost happy that my hubby was going to be go e for night, so I could fully enjoy them without any comments or opinions from someone else! The best part? The store that sells it is only a few blocks away from my new home, and that place stocks almost everything I love from East Asia. (Yes, I know, it’s possible to get Inari as a sushi-topping, but that’s not the way I ate them that first time so it doesn’t quiet to do it for me!)


Funny how food can have such a special meaning.

The thing about a good long conversation

31 today. I hate celebrating my birthday. Not because I don’t like the concept of getting older, which some people seem to have, but because there’s some kind of expectation that it’s supposed to celebrated and as a consequence I, in some deep corner of my mind think that I maybe it’ll be enjoyable this time, but of course, it can never live up to any of those expectations because all I ever want is to just enjoy the company of people I actually truly have a good time with/can have a good conversation with. As my life looks like today, that pretty much means my husband.

Last year lived up to any and all expectations I could have though. I happened to be at a conference at the same time as my birthday and ended up having a spontaneous evening with a person I had gotten to know while there, had a few glasses of wine and enjoyed a long and easy flowing conversation. It didn’t matter that this was a person I would never meet again, because the conversation itself was all I wanted. In fact, maybe that was the best present I could have asked for. Getting to know someone new and having a surprisingly good evening and just talking. I love a good long conversation, where all pretences are dismissed, and both people are just enjoying each others company. In fact, I would say that I’m a complete addict to them. Especially with new people that meet by chance without any pretences that one has gotten a new bff or even will meet again. The depth of those conversations are the probably the most honest and interesting ones I know off, at least when one finds someone that is in the same mode.

There are only a few friends I have that kind of connection with, and as is natural at the age we’re in, and when living so part apart as we do, it’s a luxury when we do meet. I can’t express how much I miss those conversations.

Looking back

Life is too hard. How can it be more hard here, in Sweden, than in India? Or maybe I just don’t remember feeling this way over there, I never do, after all. Remember the bad days I mean.

I want to burn all my bridges and just get away, from everything. Start over, be decadent. I want to live the life of over-class slob that cruises around in their cars and parties, just happening to know the right people because, well, you belong in their circles, and have everyone believe that you’re fucking awesome because, well, you know the right people. The moshpoint of acquaintances, where no one trusts anyone, everybody is friends with everyone. Everyone has a history, and all have some issues.