Bloggy Buddies

Blogging has been a great creative outlet for me, a good place to vent, a means to cement friendships and a great place to meet people, even if I'll never really meet said people in real life.

So many cool things have happened since I've shuttled into the blogosphere:
- I bitched about a pair of boots and within 24 hours the manufacturers of said boots offered me a new pair!
- I got stopped by the cops (ok, not here, but in real life), blogged about how I couldn't figure out what I did wrong because the coppers couldn't speak English (which is apparently what got me out of the ticket in the first place) and a few weeks later some random person explained it to me!
- A friend and bloggy friend dedicated a piece of art to me
- I saw how cruel people can be under the guise of anonymity (namely poor MckMama). Ok so that's not "cool" but still worthy of note.
- I get all kinds of good advice from fitness experts, words of encouragement from other expats and people opening up about their weight loss challenges.
- I've been really inspired by some great writers (there are too many of you to name).

I love finding new blogs through y'all, though I try to keep the list short or i just know I'll get swallowed up in the vortex. I try to comment on all the blogs I follow and I do have my favourites.

This one blog in particular is pretty awesome, both with its content and the author's mad writing skills. But here's the thing. For the many discussions I've joined on this blog and the many responses I've received from my comments, this person has never ONCE commented on my blog. Not once. And this person's blog isn't HUGE a la MckMama or Perez Hilton. This person has a strong following and averages about 20 comments per post. I'm kinda bummed about it really.

But that's just it isn't it? Though this person can surely relate to some of what I write about, this person might not like what I write, feels they don't need to reciprocate or just plain doesn't wanna. Who knows? It's another "cool" thing about bloggyland. You put it out there, for whatever reason, and you just never know what you'll get back. A post you wrote in 10 minutes for fun while BBQ'ing up some steaks could turn into 50 comments. A post you thought would go viral gets 1 comment from someone in China with a cure for loneliness, hot Asian chicks. An innocent post on global warming gets infiltrated by a dozen right-wingers telling you and everyone else it's a farce. Well you see where I'm going.

It's Saturday morning. Little Man is watching the new Dora videos he got from his Nana and I hear the water running upstairs, meaning hubby is up. Enjoy your weekend!

Ps. Yes, a lot of name dropping in this post. Thank me later when my 19 followers all head over to discover the awesomness of your blogs and the traffic crashes your servers.

Weigh-in Wednesday: Week 9 of 10 or 9 of 15?

Can't believe we're a week away and I'm at 74 (down .6 from my usual, despite a long weekend of wine consumption and a bowl of pasta). But I'm happy because the past 2 weeks have seen me enter the world of exercise thanks to the new neighbour friend.

She is relentless. A walk with her is 1 hour of torture. And if I didn't have her to spur me on? I'd be out for 30 minutes at half pace and wondering why my butt didn't feel tighter. So Thank God for Peppy her!

I am shaping up and it's forcing me to be all the more regimented with my eating habits so yay! Ok, except when we have company and I am forced to make the one thing I'm really good at making, pasta sauce, and am then forced to eat actual pasta with the sauce cuz I didn't make enough meatballs and I would look stupid eating just a bowl of tomato sauce.

We received a request from Den to prolong Weigh-In Wednesday. To be fair to the sanctity of this weekly blog carnival-type thingy and to be fair to those of us who want more time, I have decided in my infinite wisdom to be fair and extend Weigh-In Wednesday by an additional 5 weeks. See? Fair is 50/50. An additional 10 weeks would be unfair to the sanctity. But 5 weeks? 5 weeks is fair to sanctity and to us losers ("losers" referring to weight loss, not the kids that get relentlessly picked on in school, poor kids).

Oh and 5 weeks is perfectly timed for bikini season!

So, next week will be Week 10 of 10 and the following week we'll start at Week 1 of 5. OR, we could make this Week 9 of 15? Nah....

Let's ROCK IT Ladies.

Teaching Swedish Men to be Gentlemen?

Yup, apparently there is such an evening here in Uppsala dedicated to just that.

The girls and their boys dress up in their fanciest and head out to a 3-course meal serenaded by a trio. The boy is expected to open doors, pull out chairs and treat their girl like a lady on this Gentlemen's evening.

Where I come from, or how I was raised, I'm always a lady. There need be no special evening of training. That training was instilled in my husband from an early age. Women don't pay. Doors are opened, chairs pulled out, flowers given...the works. I don't/didn't feel obliged to give up something precious in return. This kind of "lady treatment" was expected and is expected.

Well except after the butterflies die. Then it's me in sweatpants and no make-up, screaming at him to close the damn door when he goes for his constitutional. Or screaming at him for failing, yet again, to replace the toilet paper roll (as I sit there helplessly). Or screaming at him to "could you at least move your pile of dirty clothes from the end of the bed to oh, I don't know, let's say the LAUNDRY room?!"

But when we do get that rare opportunity to venture out in public, it's back to the basics of chivalry.

Chivalry is apparently dead in this country, except for on this one magical evening. And I do gotta give credit to whoever went this far to revive it. I've read dozens of articles on this very subject, some on the "the emasculation of Swedish men". I just can't wrap my head around all this "equality". Don't get me wrong, I'm all for: Paternity leave, equal pay for equal work, the sharing of domestic responsibilities, etc.

That said, I loathe:
- having a man walk through a door without at least leaving it open for me.
- Standing uncomfortably on a shaky bus while a man chillaxes in his comfy seat groovin' to his iPod.
- The thought of being single and having to pay for dinner on a date.
- Having to break out the Phillips screwdriver (which one is that again?)to fix a loose door hinge.
- Not getting jewelry, flowers, chocolates, purses, INSERT AWESOME GIFT.

Spare me: I realize some women see these gestures as "stripping away their independence". I respect that. Just like I respect your right to practice Scientology or put ketchup on your pizza or pray Sarah Palin (probably didn't even spell her name right) becomes the next President of the United States.

No, I am not about to put on my best housewife dress and apron, mix hubby a cocktail and gently remove his slippers while simultaneously handing him the evening paper after his long, hard day at the office. No, I am no Anna Anka, thank you very much.
But I want my dozen roses and I want to smell them too.