Sleeeeepy

It’s now Sunday at 7:30 pm and I’m jetlagged, but trying to stay awake and get myself on a proper Scandinavian sleep schedule. Since I’m exhausted and not able to use my whole brain at the moment, I’ll just list (in stream-of-consciousness order) some of the things that happened today and last night upon my arrival in Stockholm.

1) I took a cab marked “Uppsala” from the airport to Stockholm and possibly got ripped off on the fare. I paid the guy without complaint, though, because he hoisted all my bags in and out of the car and then probably had to drive all the way to Uppsala after he was done with me.
2) I unpacked and settled into my apartment, which is furnished with familiar, cheap Ikea stuff. In fact, I had the exact same dresser and media console in New York. Altogether now: “It’s a small world, after all…” Unfortunately, there’s no Web connection in here. By the time you read this, I’ll have posted from the Bonnier building—and I’ll probably also have begun to sweat and shake from Internet withdrawal.
3) A bottle of agave syrup I packed into one of my suitcases exploded, ruining the blue silk dress I wore to Mark and Keira’s wedding. Yes, it was in a plastic bag. And yes, I know it was retarded to bring syrup in my suitcase. But I really like agave and I figured they wouldn’t have it here.
4) My colleague, Niklas, gave me a whirlwind tour of the city today, including a walk through Vasastaden, where we both live, Norrmalm, where the Bonnier headquarters is, and Gamlastan, the part of the city that was built in the 14th century and boasts a wealth of mysterious narrow alleyways, pricey handcraft shops, and camera-toting tourists. Then we got on a boat and went out to an island in the archepelago that was dotted with charming red-painted wood shops and had lunch. The name translates to “Feather Island,” but I can’t remember how to say it in Swedish.
5) I got to know Niklas, who is really a great guy—which is good, because I have to work directly with him at Bonnier. He’s got a wife named Janet who works as a fashion stylist, and two little kids, Hedda and Elton. Niklas told me some hilarious stuff about the city and Swedish culture. I’m about to fall asleep on my keyboard, so I’ll just share one story:

As we were motoring around the Stockholm archipelago in one of the ubiquitous white tourist boats, Niklas pointed out a rather grand-looking building near the mouth of the harbor. Apparently, sometime back in the 1800s, Russia decided to take control of Stockholm, so they sent the Navy from St. Petersburg through the archipelago toward the city. As they entered the harbor, they spotted this stately building and, assuming it was the royal castle, began to shoot at it. Unfortunately for everyone involved (except the royal family), it turned out the Russians were actually bombarding a mental hospital. But the mistaken-target diversion gave the Swedes enough time to rally their defenses and fend off the attack. The story’s so good it’s probably an urban myth—If I remember I’ll research it later and let you know.

Here's what my apartment looks like. It could use some personality. Maybe I'll buy a couple colorful pillows for the sofa or something.