The Garage Band, Scene 1

Scene 1:
Curtains open.  On the stage is a white one-car garage.  A truck is parked outside and a man is carrying boxes from the truck into the garage.

Man: Whew, that's the last of my stuff.  I'm glad it all fit...I was starting to get worried!  Now I'm off to enjoy five months in Sweden.  I'm sure glad all of my stuff will be safe here in this secure garage!

Man gets into truck and drives off stage left.
After a few moments, a squirrel scurries to the middle of the stage from stage right.  He pauses, sniffs the air, and then stands up on his hinds legs and looks around.  He sits back down and a second squirrel approaches from stage right.


Squirrel 2: tktktktk.  Is the coast clear?
Squirrel 1: Eep.  Chkchkchkchkchk.  Yep, he's gone.  Did you see all those boxes he was carrying, Bushy?  There's gotta be some good stuff in there.  If there was only some way in.
Bushy: Are you blind, Pushy?  There's a huge crack under the door.  You could squeeze 10 squirrels through there!  That guy was clearly only concerned about keeping people out.
Pushy: Let's go investigate!
Bushy: Whoa, not so fast.  tktktk.  He might be coming back.  This is the eighth time we've had this conversation in the last 2 days.  Let's wait for at least three days.
Pushy: Three?  Since when could squirrels count?  Do I look like I have a calendar?  I'm tired of waiting, let's go now!
Bushy: OK, fine.  Let's go!

The squirrels run through the crack under the door.  Curtains drop.  End of scene 1.


...To Be Continued...

Harley

This first post now that I'm back is a sad one.

Before I got back to Minnesota this summer, MCRS (the Minnesota Companion Rabbit Society) contacted me to see if I would be willing to foster a rabbit with some "behavioral issues" (not the first that I have dealt with).  I agreed, and they hooked me up with Harley, an intelligent and energetic rabbit who had the unfortunate tendency to bite people.  (His temporary name when he came to MCRS was Mayhem along with his sibling Mischief.)

 I had Harley for just over 4 months starting in the beginning of July.  When I first started with him, he would bite and run from me any time I got near.  Recently though he started to let me pick him up and pet him, or lie down near where he was flopped out on the floor and scratch him behind the ears or rub his face or just hang out next to him.  He liked climbing on me and nibbling my hair, doing full-speed laps around the living room, and constantly exploring and investigating.  As is the case with many biting rabbits, he was rather intelligent and bit because he had learned that it was effective.  It took some time, but I eventually trained him that biting would not keep me from picking him up, but that being picked up was not that scary anyway.  He had improved to the point that I was ready to tell MCRS that he was ready to be adopted or transferred to a regular foster home.

 A few weeks ago, Harley was out getting his daily exercise.and I forgot to close the basement door.  Being the explorer that he was, Harley made his way down into the basement and got into an altercation with Pretzel.
 Pretzel is one of my bonded pair of Dutch rabbits, Triscuit being the other.  Both reside in the basement.  Although Triscuit is the more aggressive of the two, Pretzel is a jealous partner.  He does not hesitate to defend his damsel at the slightest provocation from another boy.
  Anyway, by the time I was able to intervene, Harley was sprawled out triumphantly in the middle of the basement surrounded by tufts of fur while Pretzel was huddled underneath some shelves in the corner.  (Triscuit had apparently stayed uninvolved in the whole fiasco.  This summer when I would let all of the rabbits out in the yard to play, Triscuit and Harley got along fine.  Maybe even a little bit more than "fine"... Triscuit can be rather flirtatious and I had to separate them at least once when their fooling around turned into humping.  That may explain why Pretzel tends to be overly protective.)
  I returned Harley to his cage upstairs and proceeded to treat everyone's wounds.  Pretzel had a pretty deep gouge taken out of the top of his head and a couple other, more minor injuries.  Harley had a small bite on his face that was easily treated.  Everybody got hydrogen peroxide and a stern lecture.
 Two days later, I noticed that Harley was limping when I let him out for his exercise time.  I investigated closer and saw that I had missed a cut on his shoulder.  I treated it with hydrogen peroxide and requested permission from the rabbit society to take him to see the vet.  The next day (Saturday), I received permission to take him to the vet as soon as they opened Monday morning.
  Saturday night his condition started to worsen.  He started eating less and seemed to be in pain.  By Sunday night he wasn't eating at all (not even treats) and I had to force him to take a baby aspirin to try to ease the pain.  I stayed up with him and held him all night, as that seemed to make him feel more comfortable.  At 4:00 AM, he had a seizure and then died in my arms.
  Even though Harley was "only" a foster, I still cared about him a lot.  We had gotten pretty close over the last couple months as I had been training him to trust people and be more friendly.  Now that he's gone to that big field of clover in the sky, I know he's happy running, playing, and exploring, but I hope he thinks about me every once in a while and knows that he is missed.
  
  






I'll return to more light-hearted posts, but I felt that Harley deserved an obituary.  Thanks for taking the time to read his story.

The greatest thing I've found so far in Sweden

I could describe this, but the picture is pretty self-explanatory.  It's bacon flavored squeeze cheese.  Lots of this is coming back to America with me.

English in Sweden

I still haven't learned Swedish...I gave up a while ago.  So in any given day, I spend a lot of time listening to other peoples' conversations in Swedish, having no idea what they are talking about.  But Swedes use quite a few English words in their conversation.  So a typical conversation goes: "Blah blah blah Facebook blah blah blah big deal blah blah blah oh sh*t that's awesome!"  I've started keeping a list of English words that I have heard in these "blah blah blah" conversations.  Enjoy!
Facebook
Google
Awesome
Awesome Sauce
Epic
Epic Fail
Nice
Gay
Dude
Disgusting
Sign me up
Instant coffee
I am not surprised
Boyfriend material
Granny panties

On a related note, being in Sweden has been like a huge, 5-month game of Taboo, Pictionary, Charades, and Catchphrase all rolled into one.  People generally speak very good English, but often struggle with more obscure or niche words.  So they start describing or acting out the word and I have to guess what word they are looking for.  It's great fun, and with so much practice I will DOMINATE on board game night when I get back.

What I miss about America

First, I would like to qualify that, although these are things that I miss, I'm not saying that I prefer them or that they are better.  I'm just saying that I miss them.
Although some of them are definitely better.

1. Dollar Stores
Dollar stores are incredible.  You can go shopping for hours and spend less than $50, and you come away with such great stuff!  They don't seem to have dollar stores here, and that makes me sad.  You know, sometimes I just want a cheap piece of crap that will get the job done.  I'm only here for 4 more weeks!  I don't want something quality; I want something that some Asian slave labor cobbled together just well enough to last long enough for me to lose the receipt.  Is that too much to ask?
2. One stop shopping
I love department stores.  You know, stores with different departments.  Walmart is even included in this.  I want to go one place and buy everything that I need without having a clerk give me directions to 3 other stores that may have what I'm looking for.
3. 24-hour shopping
I realize that this is turning into a shopping-themed list, but when I discover at 3:00 in the morning that I want something, I want to know there is SOMEWHERE that I can get it.
4. Cheap
To continue the shopping-themed spree, I can't wait to get back to a place where gas is under $6/gallon, fast food is that magical combination of fast AND cheap, and I don't have to choose between having another drink or eating tomorrow.
5. English
I knew when I moved to Sweden that not everyone would speak fluent English.  In fact, unless you are talking to someone over the age of 30, you can communicate just fine with people in English.  I just miss English being the default.  Usually when I'm not paying attention it's because I'm not interested.  Nowadays, I don't pay attention because it's in a different language.  I hear 3 words of Swedish and I head straight for imagination land.
6. The ability to read
I can cook as long as they have helpful pictures and numbers to tell me "put it in the oven at 200 degrees".  But when I learned to read in 1st grade, it was like a whole new, fantastical world opened up to me.  I could read ingredients on the cereal box.  I could read books, I could read directions, I could read the signs at the store telling me where to stand in line.  Now I can't do any of those things
7. Driving
I miss driving.  I miss traffic jams, I miss finding parking, I miss being able to travel to a place further away from me than the distance I can walk.
8. Commercials
I can still get most of the TV that I watch via torrent.  The problem is that all the commercials have been removed.  I know lots of cool products must have been released in the months I've been gone...but I don't know what they are!
9. $1 Bills
In Sweden, the smallest bill they have is the 20 SEK note, which is about $3.  For 10, 5, 1, and .5, they use coins.  Now, In America, if you lose a coin, it's no big deal...In Sweden you actually have to keep track of them.  Their smallest common coin is the 1 Kronor coin, worth between a dime and a quarter.  When people get a .5 coin (50 öre, half-way between our nickel and dime) they throw them away like we throw away pennies.(at least I do.  Throwing pennies on the groung isn't littering, is it?)
10. Basic American products
Did you know that Baking Soda is an American product?  Sure, you can get it here in Sweden...a small envelope of it for $1. In America, you can get a box the size of a loaf of bread for like $2.  Bicarbonate Soda, is that really so hard to sell?  it absorbs odors, helps in cleaning, can probable remove some stains (sorry, I left my "Martha Stewart Housekeeping Handbook" back home), makes great science class volcanos...but you can't get it in larger than a 30 gram bag.

King Gustav is on Facebook (shhh, don't tell anybody)

King Gustav wants to become computer-savvy.  He jumps on my computer and hops around on it while I am asleep.  He wasn't getting much done, however, so I helped him create a Facebook page.  Here's the problem...I didn't show him how to update it.  Now put yourself in the shoes of a rabbit...a rabbit who wants to update his Facebook page.  You know that Facebook is on the internet, which is something outside the computer.  But how do you get on the internet?  Well, what would you do?

King Gustav's solution was to chew through the ethernet cable.  That's logical, right?  I imagine his thinking was something along the lines of, "Hmmm, I know the internet is around here somewhere.  Maybe it's in here?!"

So that's why I haven't bee able to update my blog in a while.  Don't worry, I'll try to explain the internet concept to the rabbit a little better soon.

By the way, rabbits are in no way allowed to have a facebook page.  I couldn't call him "King Gustav", I had to use his original name "Moomin".  Since nothing is really official until it's on Facebook, I think it's reasonable to believe the converse is also true.  Therefore, King Gustav's new name is now Moomin King Gustav.  So, until somebody tells on us to Facebook and they remove him, feel free to add him as your friend!

Best. Hat. Ever.

I'm going to steal this sign

I caught a hedgehog

Last week, I was standing outside VG with some friends and we saw a hedgehog.  I'm not sure if I've ever seen a hedgehog before, but there it was, scurrying along the ground.  Well, I wasn't about to let this opportunity pass me by, so I whipped a towel out of my backpack (Arthur Dent would've been proud) and scooped him up.  Here are pictures:

I've never caught a wild animal in the US, except for turtles and toads.  I've certainly tried to catch small creatures like squirrels, rabbits, ducks, etc., but I've never succeeded.  In Sweden I've caught a duck and now a hedgehog.  I assume this is because the Swedish people are more peaceful and the animals therefore are more trusting.  I'm probably destroying centuries of behavioral conditioning and disrupting the fragile balance of the wild animal population.

Drinking observations

One of the things that I love about France (and Europe in general) is the way that people enjoy eating more than they do in America.  Even simple meals at home usually have multiple courses and last for at least twice as long as a typical dinner in America.  Now, I know Americans love to eat, but for us it's usually more of a matter of quantity over quality.  We don't sit and savor our food; we race through our meal so that we can move on to something else.  A meal is something to be conquered so that we can stop being hungry.

Another example of their love of food: in France, people eat while they are drinking.  When you go to a college house party, they are more likely to be drinking wine (of course), but they will also have something to eat, like pasta.  It may be simple and uncomplicated, but it's nice to have something to gnosh on while you are drinking.

In Sweden, people drink a lot of water while they are drinking.  It is actually a law that bars have to have water available (for free) for people to drink, which is usually in pitchers at the end of the bar.  This is a great idea...not only do people not get quite as drunk (or at least they are slower in getting there), but the hangover is much less severe.

Another law in Sweden is that an alcohol establishment must have food available for purchase as long as they are serving alcohol.  And not just pretzels and peanuts, actual food that is cooked.

Instead of using a lime, Swedes follow a tequila shot with a lemon.  This is wrong, as I explain to them whenever they order tequila.  I will only give them a lemon under protest, and I hope that I am slowly correcting this travesty one customer at a time.

Alcohol is enormously more expensive in Sweden than in America, both at the bars and at the state-owned liquor store ("Systembolaget").  A mixed drink may run around $10, a beer $6-7, and a typical fifth of decent liquor is $30-45.  Even the generic, cheap liquor is $15-20/bottle.

In my experience, most Swedish things taste very good.  Swedish fish?  SOOO much tastier than actual fish.  Meatballs are good, but Swedish meatballs are better.  But alcohol?  Schnapps is usually very delicious.  Swedish schnapps, on the other hand, is terrible, whether it is Bäska, Skåne, Hallands, or Fernet.  They readily admit this and take great pride in how awful their schnapps taste.  When doing shots, their shot of choice is Fishshot (often called Fishers or Fisherman).  We have the same thing in America, but we call it NyQuil cough syrup.

The reputation of Swedish people as being cold, quiet, and peaceful is very true.  That's why they have alcohol at every social event (even the welcome ceremony for international students had brandy and port for the students).  Once they start to get tipsy, Swedish people become outgoing, friendly, and loud.  And sometimes even violent.  A few weeks ago, I was working at a party at Vastgota.  I had to help the police officers who were working security wrestle down 2 drunk guys who attacked them.  Now, I've seen an all out brawl go down in a bar before, but that was in rural Ohio.  You expect bar brawls in rural Ohio.  But a fight in Sweden?  With the police?  Only when alcohol is involved.

An early April Fools joke.

So the way classes work here in Sweden (or at least the classes I'm taking) is that there is an A period for the first half of the semester followed by a B period.  You take one class each period.
Now, several people here in Sweden read my blog, so I'm sure I will be corrected, but at least for the law classes taught in English, this is the case.

A period just finished a few weeks ago, so my first exam in Sweden took place about two weeks ago.  The exams are given in a special building specifically designated for exams.  It's basically a large warehouse full of desks and chairs.  And, as it turns out, this building is far, far away from the rest of campus.  So far away, in fact, that it wasn't even on my map of Uppsala.  Now, I probably should have figured that out before the morning of the exam, but if you expect me to do that, you clearly don't really know me.

So about 45 minutes before the exam, I googled the address, tried to find it on my Uppsala map, couldn't find it, and used some colorful language to describe my frustration with the situation.  Right then my computer crashed.  I used some more colorful language, determined I didn't have time to wait, and ran out of the building.  (if you know me, you also know that last part is a lie.  I would far rather walk and be late than run and be on time.  What can I say, I'm not a runner.)

I briskly walked to the edge of my map, and then headed roughly in the direction that I remembered the google push-pin.  Somehow I actually made it in time.  7:59, to be exact.  As usual, I was the last person to arrive (ours was not the only exam in the warehouse; there were around 300 more people there).  Something else they didn't tell us: they lock the doors once they start the exam.  It's a good thing I didn't know that...I probably would have been more stressed about walking instead of running.

The exam was pretty similar to the law exams in America: there were 2 questions (worth a total of 20 points) each of which had 3-4 subsections.  The exam went until 13:00, with smoke breaks every hour.
There are some pretty key differences, though.  One big difference, of course, is the 5 hour time limit.  Exams back home were only 3 hours.  Another big difference is that, if you fail an exam in Sweden, you get to retake it.  No joke.  And there's no penalty for retaking it...you might fail it the first time and get the highest grade in the class on the retest.  If you fail it a second time, you can take it a third time.  Guess what happens if you fail it a third time...that's right, you get another retest!  In fact, students have the "right to participate in an exam in order to receive a passing grade" and that right can only be limited by decision of the president of the university.  Even then, it "may not be limited to less than five occasions."  Seems pretty Swedish.

Anyway, after the proctors explained the rules and handed out the exams, we started writing.  No laptop exams here, this was an actual written exam.  I've never written for 5 hours before.  (actually 4 1/2.  I got tired after that long and left.)  I spent significantly more time on the first question than on the second question because I understood that material better and found it easier to write about.  And I can hear you say, "Law, I don't care which question was harder, just like I don't care about most of the other stuff you're writing here, and I think you should tell me a funny story about King Gustav and you should stop going on and on and on with your US/Sweden exam comparative analysis."  I have 3 things to say to that: 1) That was a run-on sentence.  You should try to work on that.  2) Be patient, the time I spent on question 1 is actually important, as you would see if you read the whole post before voicing your criticism. 3) The rest of your critique is probably valid.  Point taken.

So Tuesday, I got an email informing me that, "answers to question #1 of the exam...have been lost...either on the train to Stockholm or at the Stockholm underground." Now we have the option to either take an oral exam or a 48 hour take-home exam.

My first hope was that this was all just an April Fools joke.  The Swedish people tend to be very punctual, so maybe they were just being extra-punctual and starting the joke 2 days early.

That scenario is becoming increasingly unlikely, so now I have to decide what to do.  The only oral exams I've had have been at the dentist, and I always do very poorly on them.  But take-home exams are terrible and I hate them.  48 hours on European Law and Procedure?  Ugh.  On the other hand, I can write a lot in 48 hours.  In grad school, I wrote my 80+ page thesis paper in under 48 hours.  Perhaps making them slog through that would be an appropriate punishment.

Finally, because you asked for it, here's an update on King Gustav.  He loves raisins...they're his catnip.  Only 2 or 3 and he starts tearing around the room, jumping straight up in the air, and climbing all over.  He's like a hyperactive kid on a sugar high.

Forecast

10-day forecast for Minneapolis

Mar 24                  Partly Cloudy     56°/29°

Mar 25                  Partly Cloudy     45°/25°

Mar 26                  Partly Cloudy     55°/37°

Mar 27                  Showers             54°/36°

Mar 28                  Partly Cloudy     54°/33°

Mar 29                  Partly Cloudy     58°/38°

Mar 30                  Sunny                 61°/39°

Mar 31                  Mostly Cloudy   61°/42°

Apr 01                   Partly Cloudy     59°/43°

Apr 02                   Mostly Cloudy   62°/43°

10-day forecast for Uppsala

Mar 24                  Snow Shower                28°

Mar 25                  Snow Showers               38°/31°

Mar 26                  Rain / Snow Showers     43°/31°

Mar 27                  Showers                        41°/31°

Mar 28                  Rain / Snow Showers     40°/30°

Mar 29                  Rain / Snow                   38°/27°

Mar 30                  Rain / Snow Showers     39°/27°

Mar 31                  Rain / Snow Showers     39°/27°

Apr 01                   Rain / Snow Showers    39°/28°

Apr 02                   Rain / Snow Showers    39°/28°

The punishment massage

I've been seeing a chiropractor here in Sweden.  One of the nice things about the chiropractor here in Sweden is that she isn't trying to stretch out the treatments to milk the insurance money; she fixes all of the joints that need adjusting, she shows me stretches to do to make the treatments more effective, and after adjusting my back she massages the trigger points that are causing some of the problems.
As is my general habit, I tend to run about 5 minutes late.  Then last week I missed an appointment.  It was the first night that King Gustav starting waking me up at night to pet him, and I was so tired that I slept through my alarm clock and missed my appointment.  I called a couple days later and rescheduled the appointment, and thought everything was cool.  Apparently it wasn't.
During that make-up appointment, instead of doing the trigger-point massage, the chiropractor did a different type of massage.  She said, "I'm going to do a [Swedish word] massage instead today," and started in on my back.  I don't know what Swedish word she said, but I'm pretty sure a rough translation is "painful punishment for doing something inappropriate."  It basically consisted of yanking, twisting, and pinching the skin on my back.  It was terrifically painful, and my back was sore for the next 3 days.  When I went back this week: "How did your back feel?" "Sore." "Yeah, I bet."  It was effective though; I was 5 minutes early to this appointment and definitely won't miss any more.

I've created a [love] monster

One of my goals when I adopted King Gustav was to train him to be very friendly and affectionate.  Unfortunately, I think I was TOO successful.
It started out with King Gustav sleeping at the foot of the bed and jumping on me in the morning to wake me up to feed him.  That was nice.

Soon, King Gustav was jumping into bed with me anytime he wanted some attention, waking me up a few times a night.  Then he started licking my nose and face when he wanted attention.  That was cute.  Except that he has whiskers that tickle my face.  (By the way, I now have a whole new appreciation for girls who don't like guys with facial hair.)

Now, he won't leave me alone.  He wakes me up at least 3-5 times a night begging for attention, and there is nothing I can do to get him to leave me alone.  I move him off the bed, he jumps back up.  I turn over, he jumps to the other side.  I pull the sheet over my head, he tunnels under the sheet.  All the while whisking me with those annoying whiskers. 

Absolut!

As you may or may not know, Absolut Vodka is produced in Sweden.  The Swedes are pretty proud of this fact.  According to Google Translate, the Swedish word absolut means:

adjective ABSOLUTE UTTER TEETOTAL IMPLICIT ULTIMATE IRRELATIVE ESSENTIAL UNQUESTIONING STRICT DEAD UNQUALIFIED

adverb ABSOLUTELY UTTERLY POSITIVELY DEFINITELY QUITE HEART AND SOUL FLATLY MUCH RATHER EVERY TIME VERY

Most of these make sense (in fact, adverb #6 makes you wonder if the Absolut marketing department has an inside connection at Google Translate) but adjective #3?  That doesn't seem appropriate at all.

Swedish people say "Absolut!" quite regularly, the same way that Americans would say "Exactly!" or "Perfect!"  I don't know when that started...but I wouldn't be surprised if the phrase and the vodka both became popular around the same time.

Here's the beef that I have with Absolut, though:  The picture of the bottle at the top of the page is exactly what the bottles look like here, too.  Notice anything off?  That's right, it says "IMPORTED" in big block letters at the bottom.  I mean, sure, "PRODUCED LOCALLY" doesn't have the same stylish look to it, but saying imported is a lie.  A big, bold, blocky, all-caps lie.

You know what it means when a label says "Imported" in America?  It means it was imported.  Maybe not from where you think, but it was imported.  Take, for example, Sapporo beer:

It's a little blurry, but if you look closely at the bottom line, you can read, "Brewed and bottled by Sapporo Brewing Company, Guelph, Ontario, Canada."  Why not just brew it in America?  Because we have advertising integrity and only write imported if it is imported.

On the flip side, find a can of Foster's ("Australian for beer" or, more recently, "Get some Australian in you"). You know what it doesn't say on it?  "Imported."  Ever since Miller took over the domestic brewing operations in 2007, "Foster's is freshly brewed in the U.S. at MillerCoors under the close supervision of Foster's Australia." (millercoors.com)  And since it's no longer imported, the cans no longer say imported.

A handful of random

This is the book based on the movie based on the novel.  People usually think the book was better, but what about when they write a book about a movie based on a book?  How do you even write a book based on a novel?  I'm all kinds of confused by this recursion.

I don't get it.  I mean, obviously it's a blatant contradiction in terms, but how/why did it happen?  Did some Swedish entrepreneur, about to start a restaurant, just like the sound of "soul food"?
Did he forget to do any research on the meaning of the name at all?  Or is the idea that Swedish people have no idea what "soul food" means, and so would think it's enchanting and intriguing?


There are a lot of little things that I can't find in the grocery store here.  Like malt vinegar.  And frying batter just isn't quite the same with white wine vinegar.

I made deep fried pickles today.  I don't have a deep fryer here, so I just heat up a pan of oil on the stove.  The only problem is that I don't have a temperature gauge on it, so I don't know how hot it is.  I think the oil is getting a lot hotter than usual and that's why my battered pickle slices exploded.  I don't remember that happening back home.  On the other hand, the scalding spatter from the explosion didn't seem to sear my bare arms as badly as some other times, so maybe it's the white wine that made them explode.

One of my corridor-mates came in near the end of my dinner.  I had already made and eaten a hamburger, fries, and onion rings.  She asked what I was making and I showed her that I was deep frying pickles.  I'm sure she's writing a blog post tonight about how a traditional American meal consists of fried pickles and a big pile of salt.

A very frustrating thing about building address numbers on streets here: they are not divided up by block.  In America, a block will have, say, 4100-4200, with 4110 roughly across from 4111, and if there aren't 100 buildings, they skip some numbers in between.  Not so in Sweden.  They start with 1 on one side of the street and 2 on the other side.  If one side has more buildings than the other side, the numbers are soon way out of sync.  For example, one of my classes is in Ekonomikum at 10 Kyrkogårdsgatan.  I found 9-13 Kyrkogårdsgatan but couldn't find 10 anywhere (the other side of the street is a cemetery.)  Finally, after almost an hour, I found 10 Kyrkogårdsgatan... around 4 blocks away, across from 35 Kyrkogårdsgatan.  That doesn't make sense.  Not only does it add a lot more confusion, what if they add a new building?  10 1/2?  What if they add several more buildings?  I shouldn't have to figure out whether 10 3/16 is bigger than 10 5/8 to figure out which direction I need to go.  For a people who are supposed to care about order and efficiency, I'm not being impressed.


Speaking of not being impressed, for a welfare state, why are the buses so expensive?  I mean, really?  You can afford socialized healthcare, but a bus fare costs $4.50?


Speaking of buses, if a bus is scheduled to stop for more than about a minute, they shut off the engine until it's time to start again.  I feel like that's taking energy efficiency a step too far.


Speaking of energy efficiency, the central square and several of the main sidewalks are heated, so they are always dry and free from snow and ice.  At the same time, there are crews of city workers who go around the city knocking large icicles off of buildings.


My nickname around Vastgota Nation is now apparently "Mr. Fantastic" because I have a tendency to answer the question, "How's it going?" with "Fantastic!"  And now that the word has spread, if I answer anything different, people are disappointed and say, "C'mon, say 'fantastic' for us!"


"Fantastic" is one of the things I picked up while selling vacuums a few summers ago.  It's toned down from the "Super-Fantastic!" we were required to say.  We also had to sing songs about vacuums to get us energized for our day of sales calls.  There was a vacuum cleaning hymnal with around 100 different songs.  If you made a sale the day before, you got to choose one of the songs to sing (otherwise the boss chose.)  If you were late to the meeting, you had to stand in front and sing a solo.  I wish I was kidding about any of this.

It's like a rabbit Haiti

Hundreds of rabbits hit as roof caves in
This winter has been much worse than usual for Sweden.  This past weekend we had a snowstorm that pretty much gridlocked Stockholm...the infrastructure minister described it (and Sweden's response to it) as a "catastrophe."  Being a Minnesotan, I've been relatively unfazed by the weather and enjoy scoffing at people's horrified response to the cold.
Sadly, though, sometimes people get hurt by the unexpected amount of snowfall.  Like the hundreds of little furry people who were attending the Nyköping rabbit show in Stockholm when the roof collapsed.  But I'm sure Alicia Keys and Jay-Z will sing in a benefit concert for this tragedy as well.
It's also possible, given the Swedish government's tendencies toward rabbits, that this is a massive government conspiracy to secure an additional source for their rabbit-fueled heating plant (mentioned in an earlier post).  Consider these facts: 
  1) This winter is colder than usual.
  2) Stockholm uses frozen rabbits as biofuel to generate heat.
  3) Collapse happens late at night, when all the humans are away from the building at a "dance event" in another building.
  4) Police still have not fully established the cause of the collapse.
  5) Lars Ahlgren, rescue coordinator/alleged conspirator, stated, "We're not going to attempt to rescue the rabbits under the collapse".
  6) This is the largest single gathering of rabbits in Sweden, with well over 1500 in attendance.
Coincidence?  Conspiracy theorists, get on it!

In other bunny news, King Gustav finished his litter training quicker than I had hoped and so has had free run of my room for about a week and a half now.  He likes to jump on my bed and climb on me while I'm trying to fall asleep.  Unfortunately, he decided that the window sill is a more appropriate throne location and figured out how to jump up there from my bed.  I pushed him down a couple times, but last night he staged a covert mission to secure the upper ground.  Last week I got a basil plant so I could give him an occasional delicious treat.  During his midnight mission, he discovered the basil plant on the window sill.  Now I have an empty pot and a rabbit who could star in a Pepto-Bismal commercial.

An example of terrible legal drafting:

Here's a paragraph from the pivotal European Court of Justice opinion Case C-212/04 Adeneler [2004] ECR I-06057:

123. It follows that, from the date upon which a directive has entered into force, the courts of the Member States must refrain as far as possible from interpreting domestic law in a manner which might seriously compromise, after the period for transposition has expired, attainment of the objective pursued by that directive.

We've spent around 30 minutes debating what this means, with the result that we now realize it's even more open to multiple interpretations than we originally thought.

I submit that any sentence that takes that much analysis to understand is poor drafting.  A sentence that can handle that much analysis and still not communicate what the author was trying to say is terrible.

On the other (more cynical) hand, it's a nice statement for the Court to cite in future cases...it provides strong support for both sides of the argument.

As promised, more bunny pictures

I am the king of my castle.

I demand a pillow and a servant to feed me grapes.

You may think that I'm resting, but I have my eye on you.

I think I may name him King Gustav, or Gus for short.

I have a new pet rabbit

Sweden burns bunnies for biofuel
Apparently, Sweden has an overabundance of rabbits in the parks in Stockholm.  I thought about getting a train ticket to Stockholm to catch a rabbit for free, but instead I decided to just buy one.  I found someone a little outside Uppsala with several for sale, so yesterday I took a bus out of the city, walked a couple kilometers to their farm, and perused their selection.  I settled on Moomin (named after this comic strip character) (decision on whether to keep the name is still pending), a 6-month-old male lop.  He went into a box, I walked the 2 kilometers back to the bus stop, and returned to my room.  A couple hours, a trip to the recycle station, and some work with a pair of scissors and some duct tape later and I had a barely respectable enclosure for him.
I decided to move my mattress on to the floor and leave the pen open for him overnight so he could explore and start getting used to me.  Big mistake.  I woke up to find that he had wet the bed.  He actually hopped onto the mattress with me while I was asleep and let loose.  So today his litter training began.  He's starting to get the hang of it already, but it'll be a little while till I leave him out overnight.
He's a jumper.  He loves to jump up on his box, then jump down, then back up, then down, then up again.  I had to put up a barrier to keep him from jumping onto my desk.  I also reinforced his jumping box so it would hold up to the repeated impact.
Overall, I'm pretty happy with him.  More pictures soon.

I caught a duck! Also I'm the new bar master of Västgöta Nation.

Yesterday was my best day since arriving in Uppsala.
First of all, I fed some ducks.  I've been meaning to feed the ducks for a while, and kept forgetting.  Finally yesterday I remembered to put 2 bags of bread in my coat pockets.
I went to the duck pond.  As soon as I started unwrapping the bread the ducks started heading over.  The ducks here are pretty bold...I had them eating directly out of my hand within a couple minutes.
Then I grabbed a duck.  You know how, as a kid, you would chase after birds in the park and never catch them?  Well, I caught one.  I never expected to actually catch a duck.  Now what?  I wanted to scratch it behind the ears, but where are the ears on a duck?  Nobody knows (I asked a biologist.  She claimed she didn't know because she was a molecular biologist.  But ducks are made of molecules, right?)
I ended up walking around for a little bit holding it in my outstretched hands while it kicked and squawked and pecked at me, then I let it go.  It was everything I hoped it would be and more.

Second, yesterday was the initiation day for Västgöta Nation.  This requires a brief side-journey to explain the "nation" concept at Uppsala.
Around 350 years ago, the students at Uppsala decided to join together in groups based on what area of Sweden they were from.  At first the University didn't like the idea, and banned the practice.  Then the University changed its mind and REQUIRED all students to join a group based on their geographic location.  Those groups were called nations, and they fulfill the role of residence hall, dining hall, student organizations, intramural sports, fraternity/sorority life, student government, etc.
The 13 nations vary drastically in size, from a few hundred members to several thousand.  They have pubs and/or bars, restaurants, theatre troupes, choirs, and sports teams.  They host movie nights, dance clubs, concerts, and parties.  The work for the nations is done primarily by members and on a largely volunteer basis.  Workers may get paid 150 SEK (~$20) for a 6 or 8 hour shift, but they also get a free meal.  It's not great money, but it's a way to do something worthwhile with friends while still earning a little spending money.
Because the nations have been around basically since the beginning, all student programming is done through them.  Although the nations started a student union a couple hundred years ago to perform functions for all students (like petitioning the government for more money), as far as I can tell, all actual programming is done by the Nations.
Just like it was over 300 years ago, all students are required to join a nation.  However, you are no longer limited to the nation from where you live.  Now you choose the nation that is the best fit for you or that you like the most.  Once joining a nation, you are issued a "nation card" that allows entrance to any of the nations.  The only difference is that you don't have to pay admission to events that your nation hosts, while members of other nations may be required to pay 50 or 100 SEK to get in to that hoppin' dance club.

OK, so that's the nation concept.  I wanted to join a smaller nation where I could get to know the members a little better and have a more personal experience.  I ended up joining Västgöta Nation, which is the oldest nation.  It was started in 1639 and the building where they reside was built in 1666.  (Västgöta Nation is older than the United States.  That's pretty awesome.) Their pub is in the cellar, which actually dates back to the 1400's.  It's pretty thrilling to sit and drink a beer in a cellar that was built before they knew about America.  They are also located right on the river, so it's close to go feed the ducks.
I should also probably mention that I volunteered for (and was selected to be) the Bar Master for the semester.  I'm not the bartender, I'm the one who organizes the bartenders, orders and stocks the alcohol, decides on drink specials, etc.


Yesterday was Reccemottagning, which is the initiation event.  It started with some speeches by the leaders of the Nation, including the faculty advisor.  Then we broke up into small groups and went around to different stations for each of the different aspects of the Nation (short scavenger hunt with the sports club, movie charades with the theater group, drinking beer with the pub master, doing shots with the bar master, etc.)  Finally, the evening was capped off with a formal 2-course dinner with entertainment by the mixed choir, the men's choir (who for some reason were carring around a headless baby doll and a cow skull), more speeches, etc.  There was lots of drinking and singing, and most of what was happening was in Swedish. (quick side note: the Swedish people are very quiet and reserved, until they start drinking.  Then they become outgoing, talkative, and friendly.  As a result, essentially all social events in Sweden involve drinking alcohol.  (And yes, it extends to non-college events as well.))
Anyway, fantastic cultural experience.  I met a ton of new people and the Swedish people think it's just as hilarious that my name is Law and I study law as people in America think it is.

My Swedish language class doesn't start for another 2 weeks

I have a few things to say about that:

1) That makes no sense at all.  I mean really?  The classes don't start until a month after people arrive?  What am I supposed to do in the meantime?

2) I'll tell you what I'm doing in the meantime: failing.  Right now I'm eating a frozen pie, because I can't read the directions to tell if I'm supposed to cook it first.

3) I guess it shows the faith that the University has in the Swedish people's ability to speak English.

4) But what about when I want to eat a delicious cake and there are no Swedish people around to translate the directions?

5) I'd come up with more things to say, but I'm going to go make a sandwich instead.  I can do that in English.

2 Swedish stereotypes that seem TOO Swedish to be real (but they are)

1) They love fish so much, they actually have fish burgers.  Not fish sandwiches, like a filet o' fish.  Actual round patties.  I wish I could elaborate, but I hate seafood, so I can't.
2) Everyone shops at Ikea.  Today I was doing laundry, and everyone was carrying their laundry in a blue Ikea bag.  Seriously, there were at least 10 people, and every single one there was using those bags.  I brought a laundry bag with me to Sweden, but the handle broke so even I was using an Ikea bag.

Shamelessly exploiting my heritage for cheap conversation fodder

I've decided to embrace my Americanism, at least in terms of ownership of my American eating habits.  It turns out, Europeans LOVE to make fun of Americans' unhealthy eating habits.  This is fantastic; I also love to make fun of Americans' unhealthy eating habits, but at the same time I probably have more unhealthy eating habits then 98% of Americans.  Most people go to McDonald's for their fried food.  Not me...I had a deep fryer in my kitchen.  Many Americans have heard of deep fried Twinkies; I've served them as a Super Bowl snack.  I've eaten deep-fried bacon on a stick.  I've hosted fryin' parties.  It's like a fondue party, but with a deep fryer, a platter of various foods, and a big bowl of beer batter.

::Quick side note about deep fried food::
Successes:                                   Failures:
- Twinkies*                                    - Strawberries*
- Candy Bars*                               - Cookie Dough
- Cookie Dough*                           - Peeps*
- Rolos*                                         - Noodles
- Cheese Curds*
- Pizza*
- Ice Cream
- Swiss Cake Rolls*                  Note: *indicates battered
- Hot dogs
- Hamburgers
::End side note::

When I heat up soup, I add a couple tablespoons of oil, partly for the flavor but mainly for the calories.  I ask for the nutrition information sheet at McDonald's so I can avoid the healthy choices (and then I get my fries well-done.  They test better when they have more time to absorb more of that delicious frying oil.  Also, I eschew the ketchup in favor of mayo.)  I have bowls of candy strategically placed around my apartments so I am never more than 3 steps away from a handful of sweet, sweet nirvana.
I actively avoid any diet or 'lite' food.

::Side note 2: My philosophy on diet food::
A diet product is never as good as the original.  If it was, it would BE the original, and they would change something else to make a diet version.
::End side note 2::

So I have an enormous pool of personal experience to draw upon in talking about how unhealthy Americans are.  Am I reinforcing a stereotype?  Absolutely.  Am I distorting peoples' perceptions of the eating habits of Americans?  Most likely.  Will I have a fun time doing it?  You better believe it.

Now that I have real internet, I get to watch The Daily Show again

The Daily Show and The Colbert Report are now in high-def and have new sets.  If you pay attention, Jon Stewart's new desk is in the shape of a lower-case 'j'.  Looks like somebody is getting jealous of his protégé.

Jon Stewart interviewed Bill Gates last night.  As one of the richest men in the world, you would think that Bill Gates could buy a shirt that fits.  Nope.  That shirt is at least 2 sizes too large.

Swedish cold is Minnesota warm

People here are complaining that this is the coldest winter in Sweden in forever.  They brag about how it hit -25 degrees Celsius a few weeks ago.  Please. Minnesota's AVERAGE January low is -16 C (4F).  We have weeks that never get ABOVE -20 with lows dipping into the -30s.
But I'm not here to one-up the Swedes.  I'm here to help.  The problem is that people have started addressing global warming.  Sure, that's fine to keep Florida from flooding or whatever, but what about the places that would benefit from a little warming?  Now the Swedish are getting a taste of what is to come if they keep up their "responsible" and "earth friendly" lifestyle.  It's not too late!  Here are some suggestions:

1) Decrease bicycle use.  There are at least a thousand bikes parked at the train station.  If every one of those people bought a car instead, imagine the difference that could make?  There are many ways to decrease bicycle use.  Taxing, an aggressive ad campaign, even outright banning.  It may be difficult to change the public perception of bicycle use as being an environmentally responsible choice, so although I think taxing or banning bicycles will be helpful, I suggest that an appropriate ad campaign will be crucial for this to succeed.  Some ad ideas:
   - Someone is riding a bike on a street, and everything they pass is turning to ice (use the same film technique as the Ice Queen in the Chronicles of Narnia freezing cute little animals, etc.)  Babies, squirrels, and children playing jump-rope (one could be jumping in the air as they are frozen, then they fall and shatter.  That'll leave an impression!)
   - Follow-up to the previous ad: the bike rider jumps in a car and drives past the frozen landscape, thawing everything.  This could be like the Prius commercials, except instead of driving a Prius (BAD!) they are driving an old, smoke-belching semi-truck (GOOD!)
   - Someone is about to get on their old rusty bike, when their friend stops them.  "What are you doing?!  Riding a bike?  What are you, an old woman/1920's flapper/medieval stonemason?  Nobody rides bikes anymore.  You need to get one of THESE! (pointing to a sexy new hummer)"
   - (in the style of those high-fructose corn syrup commercials)
     Person 1: Hey, let's go to the park in my new SUV!
     Person 2: SUV? But I've heard that...
     Person 1: Heard what?  That they are warming our winters, providing jobs, and are kick-ass to drive?
     Person 2: I guess you're right.  I'm going to go buy an SUV and then we can BOTH drive to the park in SUV's!

2) Encourage people to leave the lights on.  This shouldn't be tough; the winter nights are like 21 hours long.  And guess when it's the coldest?  That's right...the winter.  It's like God is slapping you in the face with a huge hint. But people feel too safe.  I'm thinking that roving gangs of street urchins or young hoodlums would encourage people to feel less safe in the dark.  I'm not exactly sure how to get those started...maybe talk to some other countries for some hints.  I feel like England probably has street urchins, but for REAL gang experience, nobody can beat the US.  Or, team up with ACORN to inform pimps and hos about free housing opportunities in Sweden.

3) To encourage people to use more fuel, maybe lower the price?  12.3 Kroner/Liter works out to (according to the Google search string: "((1 gallon / 1 liter) * 12.3) SEK to USD" (btw, Google search strings are incredibly useful.  If you don't use them already, you should start)) $6.39/Gallon.  Your gasoline costs 3x more than it does in America.  No wonder you're losing the greenhouse gas race.

4) Stop being so healthy and start eating more cheap fast food.  This one may not be obvious, but it's not really that complicated:  as you eat more fast food, you start gaining weight.  The more you weigh, the bigger your vehicles have to be (and the more fuel you burn).  This is a longer term solution, but sometimes making a difference requires taking the long view.

Those are just to get you started; I'm sure you can think of more.  Good luck!

Getting my internet username and password: a 4 part play.

Scene I:
IT station in the Student Union.
Me: I need my username/password for the internet.
IT Guy: Sure, let me look that up.  Yep, your account was activated a week ago.  You should have gotten a letter.
Me: I didn't get a letter.
IT Guy: Oh, it looks like we never sent it.  We should have sent it, but we didn't.  Huh.
Me: So can I get it?
IT Guy: I can't get it.  You have to go to the main office.  Here is a map.  It's not so far, maybe a 30 minute walk.  They are open till noon tomorrow.

Scene II:
Open on me walking.  Quickly, for 45 minutes in -12 degree, snowy weather.  For a while I follow a dog carrying a large (probably 2.5 meter) branch in his mouth.  I can only imagine that he was doing some independent contracting for some beavers.  That's unrelated, but provides some comic relief.

Scene III:
"Central" IT department, which is not central to anything, except a bunch of Swedish forests.  The clock on the wall says 11:57, even though it is 11:35.
Me: I need my username and password for the internet.
IT Lady: Here you go.
Me: Thanks.

Scene IV:
Repeat Scene II in reverse, but without the dog.

Angel Colby

Because I miss my bunnies, here's a picture of Colby in an angel costume:

Street Crossing Signs

In true Swedish fashion, there are different places to cross the street depending on your exact situation:

It's a cat crossing!

Crossing for man with bag and lady crossing.

Rabbit crossing, but only if they're on a leash!

(Also, notice the beautiful cathedral in the background. I'll have more pictures of that in the future...but it's pretty amazing.)

Candy

Here's a quick post about candy:

Unfortunately, blogger.com is stupid and won't let me rotate the images. C'mon blogger.com, this is not so hard! Even Paint can do it! Anyway, just imagine it rotated 90 degrees. No, not that way! Now it's upside down! NOW you have to flip it over in your mind. Alright, close enough.

Here we have a chocolate covered banana (I know. It looks like a poop. But if it is, it's from someone who ate a whole lot of bananas.)

Next is a "mini-floppy" and "elephant."

And here we have (spiraling in):

fruits with the consistency and taste of Swedish Fish

Happy Faces (in horrible black-licorice flavor and delicious strawberry flavor)

Fizzy Sour Pop-Bottle

Fizzy Sour Mushroom (same taste, different shape)

Swedish Fish in colors other than red (eh)

Can't remember what these were called (eh)

Can't remember what this was either (eh)

Fruit Swirl (tangy and delicious)

Cola Ferrarri (if a ferrarri were ever made of cola, it would taste exactly like this)

Zoo (I swear, that's what they are called. They should be called "Swedish Fish but Shaped Like Mini-Monkeys" because that's what they are)

Cola Swirl (cola seems to be one of their favorite flavors. There are LOTS of cola flavored candies)

I got hit on by a hot Swede last night who totally wanted to sleep with me

...too bad it was a guy. But if I ever want to gay it up in Stockholm...

So I got a job as a bartender. Here's what that was like:

First, what everyone told me about how Swedish people speak English is totally, completely, almost entirely true. I only had a couple people that I couldn't understand. The trick is, when they start speaking Swedish, you say, "I'm sorry?" and they pause for a minute and then try it in English. It's especially impressive that their fluency stays pretty consistent even as they get drunk.

Notice that I said "stays consistent," not "stays good." While the overall level of English proficiency is pretty high, there are some definite exceptions. In French, if you don't have good pronunciation, your pronunciation usually gets better as you get drunk, because French words tend to trail off at the end. The more you slur your speech, the closer you get to the way the words are actually supposed to be pronounced. Not so much with English; if you start out bad, it stays bad.

Also, there is a surprising similarity between the words "bottle," "water," and "vodka." This caused a LOT of confusion until I realized what was going on. Then I would ask "waaaterrr? no? bottle of beer? ok, sweet." The Swedish word for bottle seems to be "Flask."

The bar was decent, but in my completely unbiased opinion, my bar was incredibly more functional. Sure they had all 18 different flavors of Absolut, but they didn't have Bailey's, Kahlua, amaretto, or Jager. Are you kidding me? A bar without Baileys? No Jager? Then, to make matters worse, they ran out of shot glasses, gin, plain vodka, ice, and coke. Really? You have 450 people show up at this club and only have one bottle of gin? I was serving shots in brandy snifters and rum and cokes without ice OR coke.

Swedes have a love of having things "just so"...not too much, not too little. Think of them as a nation of Goldilocks. Most of the time, this could not be further from the way I operate... "excess" is pretty much a way of life for me. However, there are some things where there is a "right way" to do it, and that's how I'm going to do it. Bartending is one example. If I'm going to serve a mint julep, it's going to have fresh crushed mint leaves in the bottom. That's why I found the situation at this bar so distressing. They didn't even have the basic materials to do things right, much less the accoutrement to really do it right.

In every place that I've worked, the bartenders split the tips from the tip jar at the end of the night, so I was expecting the same here. I wasn't expecting a lot...I'd been warned about the poor tipping practices of the Swedish...but people were still tipping a small amount through the night, so I was eager to find out how much I had made from my hard work. Then, at the very end of the night (5am, after cleaning everything including sweeping and mopping the dance floor and hauling ~15 tables and ~100 chairs from the second floor to the basement pub), the supervisor explained that all the tips are put in a fund to pay for a "staff party" at the end of the semester. Anybody who works at least 4x for the Nation (I'll explain the whole Nation concept in another post) gets invited to the staff party, which is paid for by the bartending tips.

Are you kidding me? That bull would never fly in America (I'm pretty sure there are laws against it). I worked my ass off to earn those tips. But in Socialist Sweden, I'm not surprised. And the result is that, although I will probably work there again, you can bet that I'm not going to be working nearly as hard. When I was delivering pizzas, I didn't run those pizzas to the door so my boss could have an extra cookie at the end of the year. Screw that.

And if they expect me to work there again, they better get their liquor selection figured out. I'm not telling another customer that I can't pour them a shot of Jager because the barmaster wasn't competent enough to order a bottle (also we don't have any shot glasses.)

I hate Swedish doors

When I was in undergrad, minoring in computer science, I took a class on user interface design. One of the foundational concepts in developing a good user interface is making it intuitive, and one of the best ways to make something intuitive is to embed subtle clues for what to do. The fundamental example that they used was doors. You can write "push" or "pull" on a door, but you should accompany that with a door handle that indicates whether you should push on it or pull on it.

Sweden never took that class. Architects don't seem to get the basic concept that if there is a big handle to grab onto, people will want to pull; and if there is a big panel to push on, people will want to push.

So take this quick quiz: push or pull?

The correct answers are below. (to read the text, hold your computer upside down and facing a mirror. Then look at THAT reflected off the inside of a spoon.)

1. Pull 2. Push 3. Pull 4. Pull

Notice that #1, 3, and (although you can't see it) 4 are the same on both sides and that none of the doors say either push or pull (even in Swedish).

Something you may not have noticed (but it's true!) is that in public buildings in America, the outside doors open out (in fact, all doors in the exit path must open out, must be able to be unlocked from inside without a key [ideally with one of those push-bars that automatically unlocks], must be lighted, and must have an exit sign above it.) This is to comply with OSHA regulations; if the building is going down in a blazing inferno, the stampede of people rushing out of the building must be able to exit the building safely. An inward-opening door could be blocked by the throng of people pushing to get out, trapping them all inside. (This is not a problem in residence buildings, where the concern is usually getting IN out of the cold/whatever as quickly as possible, which is why the door on your house/apartment probably opens in. Because OSHA only applies to places of employment, the desire for convenience usually wins out.)

OSHA guidelines have been very subtly affecting the way you approach doors in public buildings. It is completely subliminal...I'm sure you've never thought about it before. But that government-mandated consistency (along with helpful visual clues like push-bars) has slowly trained you to be able to open the doors you come across smoothly and without conscious thought.

That's all fine and good, until you move to a country without that same consistency. Then, all that training backfires on you. I have found myself constantly trying to do the wrong thing with doors. Half the time it works the way I expect it to, but I never notice those. The times that I notice are all the times that I try to do the wrong thing. It's like when you step on an escalator that isn't moving, or mis-time the stairs and take one-too-many steps. There is that momentary sense of disorientation as you flip your attention to something that is normally automatic.

So say what you want about Swedish bureacracy, efficiency, and design... until they get their doors figured out, I'll remain a little bit suspicious.