Tuesday or Wednesday, depending on which time zone you choose to put me in, somewhere above the northern Atlantic:
People are talking Swedish around me. It feels strange.
Well, anyway. We got to the airport, I said bye to mom (we are on different flights), my bag was a little more than four pounds below maximum weight. That is, about two kilograms. That’s about five kilos that I’ve put on on the way. I say I’ve done a good job, considering that both Hanna and mom took part of my belongings in their bags too. This trip has made me a shopoholic.
The flight from Phoenix to New York was fine, I saw the desert change into mountains change into the circular irrigated fields of the center states change into the green forests and cities of the west.
At Newark Liberty Airport, I had two hours to spare. Of course, I ended up in the bookstore, picking up and putting down the first four books of A Song of Fire and Ice (of which Game of Thrones is the first) I don’t know how many times. I couldn’t decide if I should buy them or not: what if I didn’t like Martin’s style of writing? I don’t particularily like owning books. Most of the time, I prefer library books, and libraries in general. But I’ve had experiences with these English blockbuster movie/tv show-books and the Stockholm public library before. I had to wait ages to get hold of Pullman’s His Dark Materials in English. People go crazy for them, the Hollywood books. Better just own them myself, if I want to read them.
But then again. Money. I’ve reached the final day of a five month trip. It’s not as if I’m loaded. I can’t just go spending the little I’ve left on fantasy novels. Resolutely, I put back the pile of books and walked out of the bookstore. Just to walk right by the currency exchange place, where the sign told me in red numbers that one dollar was worth 5.89 Swedish Kronor. That’s scandalous. That’s like, nothing at all. Not shopping with that exchange rate would be pretty stupid, I’d say. So I went back and bought them. The four books. Oh, I’m so screwed.
The flight from New York was atleast an hour late when it finally took off. Traffic jam, the pilot said. But I’m fine. I’ve eaten dinner, had a glas of ginger ale and two of orange juice. Watched one whole and the beginning of atleast five movies. Now, I think I’m gonna try to sleep. We’ll see how that goes.
Three and a half hours left until we land in Stockholm. I have no idea how I feel about that.
Katja Malmborg 