The Swede and his daughter made room in their house for me during my visit to Sweden.
It was very thoughtful of them to accommodate me for a whole week while I immersed myself in all things Swedish.
As a thank you, I took them to the smörgåsbord at The Grand Hôtel in Stockholm – a beautiful waterfront hotel located in between the Royal Palace and Gamla Stan (Stockholm’s Old Town).
What can I possibly say about the smörgåsbord?
It was mind blowing.
First of all, there were lots of fish dishes, from gravlax (salmon) to poached cod to smoked sturgeon.
The only gross thing I ate was a slice of homemade sausage that tasted like armpit.
Everything else was scrumptious!
They made these little egg cups with caviar on top that were TO DIE FOR.
I think I ate three.
The Swede’s daughter ate four.
I washed all my food down with two glasses of champagne and the only downside to The Swede driving us into Stockholm is that he wasn’t able to enjoy champagne with me (the drunk driving BAC limit in Sweden is 0.02, a quarter of what it is in the US).
It was a pretty amazing night and a wonderful meal with outstanding company and I will treasure my memories of it always.
At least *I* think it’s funny.
You see, I’m a blogger so everything I experience is an opportunity to write something about it:
- Kissing ex boyfriends in RVs at SoulFire.
- Taking a dip in the hot tubs with men of questionable repute.
- Peeing my pants in a onesie costume because I couldn’t get it off in time.
It’s all fodder for the blog. Even the stuff that makes me look like a nut case.
Sometimes I wonder how my friends and family REALLY feel about this blog.
Oh, of course to my face they like it and encourage me to write.
But really, deep down, how do they feel about being WRITTEN ABOUT and READING THE INTIMATE DETAILS OF MY LIFE.
There’s a saying among us writers:
If a writer falls in love with you, you never die.
There’s another saying though and it goes something like this:
Don’t piss off a writer. We’ll DESCRIBE you.
I just want to publicly thank all my friends and family who put up with me and this tacky blog – whether I’ve given you a nickname or not.
Every time I write about my friends and family, I do it with love and respect and of course a HUGE dose of courage that they’ll be okay with what I write.
Thanks to them for putting up with me.
It takes a good sense of humor.