I was born in Bamburg, South Carolina. Upon arrival i was unpleasantly surprised to find I had a brother who was waiting eagerly. He proceeded to drag me around by my head and other displays of fraternal affection. Shortly after my birth we moved to Michigan where I grew up. My father is Swedish and my mother American. Many summers we traveled with our father to Sweden to visit our grandparents there.
Growing up in America with a single, uneducated and very young mother we were VERY poor and occaisionally hungry, homeless or both. My father's father was a successful Businessman in Central America. He paid for our visits to Sweden where life was very different.
That contrast between poverty in a capitalist system and the care free luxury of living with well to do relatives in socialist Sweden made a deep impression on me. I grew up thinking Sweden was the land of milk and honey.
When I was 19, my life was in a state of mild disaster and I voted for the first time. That turned out to be a more spicey tex-mex disaster. I beleived the election had been stolen, not won. Later my suspicions were confirmed. Not only were there questionable political maneuvers to prevent recounts. There was also fraudelent vote counting, ballot tampering and mobs intimidating voters likely to vote against them outside election centers. It was in short a completely undemocratic fiasco the likes of which would make Putin green with envy.
My father, a historian, once told me that one gives a government passive support simply by dwelling within its borders. In a democratic society, even if you disagree with the governments policy you must concede their right to govern because they have the support of the majority of the nation as defined by the constitution.
Well what if they lied, cheated and finally stole the mandate, using constituents as lynch mobs to supr ess the other side? Well if I beleive what my father told me, and I did, the logical conclusion is that it is my moral obligation to leave the country if i have the means and in so doing remove my complacency for an illegal administration.
So I left at the age of 19. I boarded a flight to Amsterdam with a tote bag and suitcase, then took the train through Germany and Denmark then finally Sweden. It may sound like an overly complicated itinerary, and it was. But I wanted a dramatic adventure to go with my expatriation. A direct flight would have been mundane and anticlimactic. Such good timing, look what has happened since!
So life went on, I studied Swedish, had to start school over again from the beginning since I didn't finish my degree before leaving. I learned Swedish and relearned a lot of stuff I already knew. Eventually I got really sick of school and worried about all the money I was borrowing so I decided to look for a job. 3 years later and one country away I found one.
Oh wait.. sorry, I was just working on my resume. That was easier.. .
I have an odd form of social intelligence. I understand very well what motivates people but despite this I have a hard time relating to people, specifically groups of people. I am a bit sensitive to the mood or social atmosphere around me. I occasionally get my own emotions confused with something I picked up from someone else without noticing. This was really confusing when I was younger and hadn't yet figured out what was going on.
These traits combined make me a good mediator.
I have good sight, hearing and fast reflexes. I have been known to cook, although I have more of a mad scientist approach to making food. Most of the time the result varies between pretty good and brilliant. Once in a while it goes terribly wrong and I need to call in a HazMat team to clean up the aftermath.
I am gifted with linguistics. I have always been at the top of my class in language courses. Even in Sweden. I had the highest grade in advanced Swedish despite being the only student who was not a native speaker. I also learned Danish quickly and dare to try to speak it despite the fact I am sure I sound silly. I used to write poetry... not sure what happened to that.
My eyes also get compliments and attention. When I was younger they were bright blue like the sky but the years have not been kind and has brought clouds to that once pristine sky. I still get compliments but I don't see why. It must be those clouds blocking my view.
Oops. I am supposed to make myself look good right? All I have accomplished is a verbose and nostalgic "I'm getting old"
I am sure that is not what people notice about me. I plan to age like a fine wine and live forever or die trying.
I don't watch Tv. I hate commercials. Movies. yeah. Like i said I hate writing lists.
We have now established the fact that I do indeed think. This is reassuring since I have it on good authority that this is proof that I exist. Now I just have to prove that you exist. No wait. That was not the question.
What I think about:
How to be myself wisely.
Problems and solutions on every scale from personal to global.
The relationship between humanity and the cosmos.
What I recently began thinking about:
What I am going to eat for dinner.
That I should stop thinking so much and act! Thought without action is like a car with no wheels: completely useless.
The same goes for Saturday. International commuting has its drawbacks.
" these are not the Swedes you are looking for"
But I take no responsibility for the entropy that may insue