Here's to you, Sweden...

So here it is.  A tribute to Sweden.  I promise that not all of my posts will be as long as or longer than standard novellas, but how can you really fit all the greatness of Sweden into a short blog post?  That's just it.  You freaking can't.  It's impossible.

"I'm so awesome I amaze myself."

My infatuation with Sweden began sometime around...the time I realized that Swedish men are totally beautiful.  That was probably sometime in 2010, when I became obsessed with one Mr. Alexander Skarsgård:


"I'm Swedish, I'm sexy.  Deal with it."

 I KNOW what you're thinking.  Thank you, Sweden.  Thank you for that.

So steadily over the last year, this infatuation has developed into a full-fledged love affair.  However, the deeper I delve into this entirely single-sided relationship with a Scandinavian country (personification, anyone?), the more I begin to realize that Sweden has been priming me for this "relationship" basically my whole freaking life.

I offer you now a chronology of my long and ever-evolving relationship with Sweden.  NOTE: I have unfortunately never been to Sweden.  The following is based purely on good ol' American exposure to Swedish things and online research (Wikipedia).

This story begins approximately 2 decades ago, when I was 3 years old.  Except then fast forward to maybe a few years later when I would actually remember more things.  Does ANYONE remember this?

NO CAPTION NECESSARY.  That's the GERMAN version of a little SWEDISH girl named Pippi Långstrump AKA Pippi freaking Longstocking.  You remember, remember?  Crazy braids that would not lie flat but instead completely defied all laws of gravity and stood up (presumably to highlight the fact that Pippi is JUST that unconventionally SWEET).  She was...awesome.  I don't remember much about her except that I liked her and that catchy song, "Pippi Longstocking is coming into your world, the freckle-faced, red-headed girl..."  Ahhhh, childhood.  I think I also liked that she was some kind of troublemaker.  How neat.  Anyway, this was step one.  Sweden's earliest attempt to appeal to my super-obsessive personality.

Sometime in this same era, a new Swedish pop band called Ace of Base hit the US charts with AWESOME songs that TO THIS DAY, most of us can still sing by heart.  "The Sign" and "Don't Turn Around".  Both awesome.  I think "The Sign" is probably more popular.  I think I actually liked that other one better.  But anyway...I'm not going to post a picture because, let's be honest, no one really knew what they looked like.  Or maybe that was just me.  But you can probably bet they were blonde.  Though that's also probably just me perpetuating stereotypes.

Fast forward again to when I was like...8 or something.  All I really remember was that I lived in Minnesota, which is cold (like Sweden--coincidence?  Yes.  But still.) and also, according to Wikipedia, boasts a population that is almost 10% Swedish.  Awesome.  Anyway...that's not even the point.  The point is my brother, at some point during our 2 years in Minnesota, became obsessed with legendary Swedish pop group ABBA.  (I hope you don't mind me saying it, Michael.) 

Not to be used as evidence of beautiful Swedish men, necessarily.
But how about them foxy ladies?  Ehhh?

I owe all of my knowledge about ABBA and their music to my big brother.  Whether you like ABBA or not, you know that "Dancing Queen" is either a song you hate to love or love to hate.  It is played at EVERY event that has a DJ.  It's about as ubiquitous a party song as "Shout" or "The Electric Slide".  I actually genuinely really enjoy ABBA, in spite of the fact that they are responsible for "Dancing Queen".  I listen to them on a semi-regular basis.  Because of my brother.  I mean really, though...do you not cry when these ladies sing "The Winner Takes It All"?  I just cried a little trying to pick out my favorite lyric.  And then I couldn't even choose a favorite lyric.  Geez, Sweden.  You're really doing a number on me. 

I guess ABBA overshadows the fact that The Cardigans are also from Sweden--remember that song "Lovefool" that was in Leo DiCaprio's version of Romeo and Juliet?  "Love me, love me, say that you love me...."  Everyone knows it.  And probably loves it.  Yeah.  It never would have happened if Sweden hadn't happened.

Anyway, the Jessica-Sweden chronology starts to get a little fuzzier now, after moving from Minnesota to Virginia.  At some point, I started watching HGTV home makeover shows, and consequently, I discovered that Ikea is awesome.  You may hate it.  But you'd be a minority.  Ikea--the home furnishing sensation from SWEDEN, famous for its clean lines and modern design elements and also for DIY instructions that a lot of people think are hard to read.  I've put together plenty of stuff from Ikea.  It's not rocket science.  You try writing instructions that literally have to be legible to people from every country ever.  The art of diagramming--not so easy.

Around the same time that I discovered Ikea, I actually WENT to an Ikea and thereby discovered Swedish meatballs and lingonberry jam.  Holy crap.  Unreal.  It's the most delicious ball-of-meat-smothered-in-gravy that you'll ever have with a fruit-based sauce on the side.  Those Swedes really broke the mold with that balls-and-berries combo.

Skip ahead to college.  At some point, my friend Lauren mentioned "The Final Countdown" to me.  It's one of those quintessential hair-band songs that everyone knows, but most people don't know where it came from. 

Well...if you've read any of this blog or even just the title, then you know it came from Sweden.  Or rather, the song's writers/performers Europe came from Sweden.  Which is in Europe.  No chance of being misled to believe these guys are from any other continent.  Anyway, this song is totally awesome.  Epic, some might say.  I'm just gonna leave it at awesome.

I could literally do an entire blog on music from Sweden.  We also have the more obscure but still way awesome bands The Hives and The Sounds.  I won't post more pics or vids, but look them up.  They're both pretty sweet-ish.  Ahahaha.  Sweet-ish.  Swedish.  Ohhh, I kill myself.

So...I'm skipping a lot of things, I know, but I'm pretty sure my chronology is long enough for...well...everyone.  Jump ahead to 2010-ish and my discovery of/falling-in-love with Alexander Skarsgård (see above for sexy tux picture).  Simply put, he's beautiful and actually talented and enjoys not having many clothes on while on camera, which is nice for my eye-parts.

Then there are the Stieg Larsson books, the Millennium Trilogy, the first of which I have just read.  These are really good.  These have me thinking more and more about Sweden in historical/etymological terms (have you noticed a lot of these names have the same suffixes?  Like "strom" or "sson"?) and basically geeking out over Sweden.  Thanks Stieg.  R.I.P.

Then there's a hodge-podge of other things I appreciate about Sweden: the colors of its flag (blue and yellow--actually one of my favorite color combos ever), the Swedish chef from the Muppets ("Börk, börk, börk!"), some of my friends, one very small proportion of my blood (thanks unknown ancestor), and then the godfather of all of my favorite Swedish things and probably the most recent addition to the list...

Its contributions to the world of hockey.  Yes, I love hockey.  Some unbelievable percentage of NHL (and otherwise) players are Swedish.  Including this guy:


Playin' hockey, bein' Swedish...

 Who is also this guy:

More intense than camping.  In tents.

That's Nicklas Bäckström.  Number 19.  Washington Capitals.  Center.  23 years old.  6'1".  210 lbs.  Really, really good at what he does.  Sweet.  Dedicated.  Generous.  Uneducated but still very smart.  Cutie-patootie.  My future husband.  Swedish.  He makes me want to learn Swedish so that I can meet him and impress him with my Swedish-speaking abilities.  We're gonna get married and then make adorable little Asian-Swedish babies.  I've never seen that before, but I bet it would be awesome.  Oh, my future children, you're so cute and part Swedish.

Sigh.  So, that's all I have to say right now.  This blog is ridiculous, but I'm not even about to apologize.  I love Sweden.  If I had a glass of beer or wine right now, I would raise it to you, Sweden.  But all I have is a bottle of Diet Dr. Pepper.  I will instead raise this bottle to you.  Skål!  (Which means, "Cheers!" by the way...)