...being back!

I feel like I need to re-introduce myself. I have been away for awhile because I wasn't in the mood to write. I was grumpy and lazy and wallowing in my own self pity therefore I neglected my blogging responsibilities. I have discovered that I don't like to write when I am unhappy because it's sad crap to read. Everyone is going through their own struggles so why throw mine in your face too. So really my absence was all with you in mind.

Anyway, I am back in action and a very very happy girl. I am FINALLY playing again. My last full game was June 10th...ugh! I don't count the pathetic attempt on July 1st against TPS. I went in at the 42 minute mark and didn't finish the half. yeah, pathetic. The silver lining in my 2 minutes of glory in that game is that I found out my knee was actually hurt, which really is the silver lining I promise. I was able to get surgery which was the only way for me to get healthy.

Surgery was July 9th and I was spoiled and extremely lucky to have my parents here to nurse me back to health. They landed in Finland on the 5th so we even had a few days of me "healthy" where we were able to tour Helsinki by feet, bike and boat. We were the ultimate tourists for the 4 days I was able to move well. It was made crystal clear where my innate spazziness comes from--them! We laughed and laughed and laughed for the 10 days they were here. Most of the laughter was delirious bouts of giggles because we were all majorly sleep deprived due to the time change for them. I stayed with them in their hotel, which was amazing except for the 3 in the morning eff bombs being dropped by my angelic mother because she couldn't figure out how to turn the bathroom lights on. Followed by a nuclear explosion of all sorts of four letter bombs from my grumpy bear sleeping father. Meanwhile I'm on a fold out mattress, picture a human-sized doggy bed, crying in the fetal position because I know that this scene is normal for the crazy ass empty-nesters. It was a shit show and I loved it.

Surgery went well! I was up and moving that night and went to watch my team play. I was probably a bit over ambitious though because the next day was pretty much misery. I couldn't move my knee and I sat in bed all day allowing my mom to cater to my hunger needs. Poor pops got really sick so he was in bed all day too. Though I never wish him to be sick, it probably worked out better that way because he has family diagnosed ADD/OCD and sitting around a hotel room all day would drive the man to jump out the window. This way, he didn't have any excess energy to lose his mind with so it was a nice peaceful recovery day for all three of us.

The 10 days went way too fast, but by the time they left I was walking almost normally and they knew I was going to be just fine. With a tearful goodbye and Starbucks (of course, I'm at the airport, duh!) in hand I was off to get back to the daily grind of rehab. If you've never been hurt you are lucky, to everyone else who has ever had to rehab any type of injury, it sucks right? Again, silver lining, it was only 3 more weeks at this point so time would go fast and I would be playing in no time. The OTHER and more exciting silver lining was that I planned a last minute trip to Paris!!

The injury released me from some of my soccer obligations so I took advantage of a few days off to make another trip. Paris has been on my mind ever since I went to Barcelona and met up with my friend Aubree. She played at state with me and is currently living in Paris as an au pair. We had conceded to the fact that a trip to France was not in the books for me because of the time restrictions of soccer, but ta-da torn meniscus frees you from the chains of commitment! Whoo! Bon voyage indeed!

Aw, j'adore Paris!! Within 4 hours of landing I was head over heels in love with the city of love. I had perfectly warm summer weather, polished, well-dressed people who patiently helped me while I butchered their beautiful language, and food on every corner that was absolutely heavenly. You would have to be a snow burrowing, surly hermit who dined on rocks to not love Paris.

The first 2 days I was by myself in a hostel in the Latin Quarter. Hostels are funny things, you can read as many reviews as you want, but it's really just a who knows kinda situation until you get there. This one turned out not to be so bad, except for the 7 flights of stairs I had to climb to get to my room because apparently elevators don't exist. I am such my father's daughter when I heard this because I know that you will not get city council's approval on ANY project without elevators or ramps. This specific hostel could have used some Folsom council members to crack down on the lack of lifts; or more likely, I could have used the crack down because my legs were burning and my newly operated knee was feeeeeelin' it. Built in rehab, cool!

The last 3 days I stayed with Aubree in her picturesque Parisian house outside of the city. Even the suburbs of Paris are adorably quaint and welcoming. We walked for miles and miles and saw most of what Paris had to offer in a whirlwind of 3 days. It was honestly the most amazing place I have ever seen. Words and pictures can't do it justice. My favorite sight was definitely the Eiffel Tower at night. At the top of every hour the whole tower sparkles with flashing lights. It is magical and truly takes your breath away. We were standing at one of the popular view points surrounded by hundreds of anxious tourists and locals alike with a harpist playing a gentle cover of Simon and Garfunkel's "The Sound of Silence." And while the chatter was an ambiguous hum at 10:59, at 11:00 there was a simultaneously gasping Ah! and then silence, except for the music. All eyes were mesmerized by the glittering Eiffel Tower and faint smiles were creeping on all our faces. I was taken aback not just by the sight, but by the whole moment. It was surreal and a feeling that I will remember for the rest of my life.

The few days in Paris went too fast too and I was back in Helsinki before I knew it. It was nice to be home and I was ready to get serious about getting healthy. The last 2 and half weeks went quickly and now here I am. Cleared to play, relatively fit again, and feeling strong. We have UEFA Champions League in 1 day. 1 DAY! We have been waiting all season for this and now it's here, I can't believe it. I had my second practice yesterday and another one tonight. Not sure how much I will play in our first game against Moldova on Saturday, but Monday and next Thursday should be a go.

I promise to keep you all posted on how the next week goes. It should be exciting and another amazing experience. Thanks for reading and all the on-going support!

Peace and Love,
Cat

LOTS OF PICTURES:

...it is what it is

"It is what it is."

I hate that phrase. I always have. My boyfriend uses it often and I have never understood it. To me it equals complacency, laziness, throwing in the towel, quitting and we Walker's are no quitters. We will fight till the bitter end because as much as I hate that phrase I hate losing even more. It's in my blood. And though sometimes it gets out of control like when the Monopoly board goes flying or ping pong paddles dive head first into the pool, my intense competitive nature is a good thing.

It has been competing with others, but mostly with myself that has pushed me to be more. I refuse to stop when the soccer gods give me red light after red light. I speed right through all of them. And though it's not always easy, it's my psychotic self-competing ambition, that "I'll show them" attitude that has helped me come out stronger and better after 2 ACL surgeries.

6 long seasons of college soccer later and I am finally where I have always wanted to be. I am playing professional soccer in Europe, the team is doing well, we have been in first place all season, I finally found my rhythm within the team, I feel confident and fit, and those mean soccer gods strike again.

Torn meniscus. Boom.

Half-full approach: I've had worse. It's a short recovery. Post surgery recovery is only 4 weeks.
Half-empty approach: SERIOUSLY??? (and a whole lotta explicit and creative word combinations)

I have had a roller coaster of emotions this week. Not the flashy looking, state of the art, locked and loaded roller coaster. I'm talking the sketchy ass wooden, broken down, if one more screw unscrews we're all screwed kind. Pretty unstable.

Fortunately, not many of those old timers break and fling people to the gory death all that often. So I am still standing, maybe white knuckled and sweating, but I am alive and will walk away mostly unscathed, again.

They are uncontrollable situations like this injury  that Dustin's phrase, "it is what it is," actually makes sense and offers my boggled mind and sad heart a little solace. I finally understand that the phrase isn't complacency or quitting, it's acceptance.

And with a little help from my friends and a few shots of tequila, I have accepted it.

...Kaksi: Going Back to the Future

After realizing that turning left from the hotel leads us down Fifty Blocks of Gray, we opted to go right when exploring our first night in Copenhagen. To our welcomed surprise we were staying only one block from everything we could possibly want! There were restaurants, shops, even an amusement park within a few minutes walk. And located between all of these restaurants and shops were bars and more bars. Danes like beer and so do we. This was going to be a glorious communion and a night for the books! Let's go...



...Where do you want to go? I don't care, where do you want to go? I don't care. Okay, well, what do you want to do? I don't care, whatever you want to do. GAH!!! This is our usual decision making process. Pretty much awful. We are just like these guys, only not as cool because we aren't British: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MGTWmrnPdgk

Drink beer. That's our common agreement, so Dust and I wander into the first pub we see, Something O'Irish. It was dark and randomly had a Mexican themed dance floor. It was confusing, but the beer tasted the same. While in Copenhagen we made an agreement to drink only Danish beer, so Carlsberg was our go to.

A few beers later and an interesting conversation with the bartender where he explained to us to disregard all we had heard and read about no tipping in Denmark, we were ready to move on to a more lively joint. Still not knowing where to go we just walked out of the first place and into the next a few doors down, which was similarly named Something McIrish. (The details of the names are a little blurry, but you get it).

This second place was not well populated, dimly lit, with giant green and red plaid patterned wall paper. But, the beer still tasted the same and it had an authentic looking singer playing some music.

Not sure what authentic means because I couldn't really tell you where this guy was from and what the real theme of the bar was, but I do have one question, will the real Doc Brown please stand up? And speak up? And en-un-ci-ate?

Yeah, Doc Brown was performing right there in McSomething O'Irish! The wild gray hair shooting in all directions along with the crazy eyes that never seemed to look at you or focus on anything other than the wall just passed your right ear gave this guy an authentic Doc Brown look. He was absolutely nuts, singing songs we recognized as the Beatles or the Rolling Stones, but we could never be quite sure. The lyrics were generally mumbled and we could only decipher about every third or fourth word.

It was awesome. And super weird. I mostly just smiled, nodded, and laughed when he was talking because I had no freaking clue what he was saying , but Dustin actually had conversations with Doc. He had been to America and apparently all of his friends ended up in San Francisco in the 60s...big surprise there.

A few beers later, again, we were talking to all sorts of people and received a ton of information to lead us in the right direction for the rest of our trip. These two American men recommended walking to the Carlsberg brewery, which was on our to-do list. They must have had too many liters (not pints) because that is a joke of a walk and I am so glad we did not take their advice. Brewery was great, walking would have been not so great!

First night down and such a great success. Meeting Doc Brown at a random pub in Copenhagen...who would have thought?

Dustin and THE Mr. Doc Brown 

...Hippies, Beer, and Love: Yksi.

The screen said "Arriving, 5 minutes." Then, why was I still waiting 45 minutes later? I got there in plenty of time. Time enough to be thoroughly reunited with a beloved Starbucks, chew and spit out 4 sticks of gum, check the monitor at least 17 times, and nearly lose my mind.

My heart was racing and  I couldn't tell if it was nerves, excitement or too much caffeine. Either way I needed to run, I needed to scream, I needed to dance. I needed him to walk through those doors, but mostly I needed to pee. Standing in Terminal 2 waiting for Dustin to walk out of customs was the longest part of his 10 day visit. 

Finally, the doors open and it's him! His blood shot eyes gave away his 24 hour sleep deprivation (which  was due to his cornering window seat and his narcoleptic neighbors), but he still looked great. Hugs, kisses, tears, blah blah blah I'll spare you the details, but it was all very Nicholas Sparks and I loved it. 

The 10 day adventure started as soon as we got home with a wild and crazy nap for Dustin. His goal was to make it until 8 pm, he lasted till about 6 only to wake up to drink or eat, then go back to sleep. I didn't care though, he was with me so I was happy. The next day he was able to sleep more while I went to morning practice, then we cruised Helsinki a little bit and I showed Dustin my keen understanding of the Finnish bus system. It was a quiet night again since Dust was adjusting to the time difference, which he managed to do like a pro. I was very impressed since it took me a solid 2 weeks. It only took him about a day--whatta man!

Sunday I had my game where we won 2-0. I had an assist and a goal and I was lucky to receive the "gold medal" for the match. We have this medal system for every league game where the top 3 players of the game are picked and receive a bronze, silver, or gold, respectively. It was super confusing at first since it is always done in Finnish. I still don't know what's going on unless they say in English,  "number nine," then I know it's me. I'm a fast learner, right? Anyway, I was excited to get a win and play well since Dust was here. Poor guy though had to suffer in the sun the whole game and it really wasn't a great game for him to watch. The second half was long, very long. One of those halves that you check the clock, sigh, check again and only 3 miserable minutes have passed. When asked what he thought of the game, Dustin's always creative response was, "I felt bad for the other team. They all had a look on their face like their dog had just died." So eloquent, isn't he? But he summed it up pretty well. At least he got beautiful warm weather and a PK-35 win!

It might have been a tad too hot actually because about half way through warm up I looked up to where he was sitting and he had moved up into the shade and taken his jacket off. Whoops- guess I should have checked the weather a little bit better. Which, by the way, does not necessarily help because as Rachel on my team taught me early on "Finnish weather is like women, you never know what you're gonna get." We're mysterious, spontaneous, and always a good time? I think that's what she was trying to say.  

We remembered to check the weather that night for Copenhagen since the next day we were leaving for a 3 day trip. Though we knew it was going to be nice it turned out to be much warmer than we thought. By the time we got to the bus stop, Dustin was hot and a little cranky. He so courteously carried the bags though, so I'll give the gentleman a break. (Sidebar in my defense for a later story, note here of Dustin's less than stellar mood when he was physically uncomfortable, thank you. Proceed.)

Airport and flight went smoothly. Dust was so excited that this flight he would be with me and have a companion to talk with, aww...so the two of us shared a riveting conversation about contemporary social issues like how to be beat his latest iPhone game.

I didn't understand it, therefore I was a bad companion. Sorry for my incompetency, Dust.

We land in Copenhagen and first things first, get another Starbucks. You know how I know you're American? You order an iced-coffee then ask for more ice. The drink is an enigma here. However, I still give every coffee shop I go to a chance to redeem the under achieving European performance on iced-coffee making, so of course I order one. I got a relatively satisfying luke-warm iced coffee. And poor, naive Dustin, so new to the coffee world, was persuaded into a Orange-Mocha-Frappuccino! (or something like that) And as the loving with a sometimes cruel sense of humor girlfriend I am, I  allowed this persuasion to happen only to see his reaction. He rocked the frap and totes loved it! Obvi.

Coffee in hand we meandered the airport for awhile heading toward the buses, then metro, then finally discover we needed a train. We still must have looked lost even once we were in the right place with the appropriate ticket because a friendly Dane asked if she could help. She directed us onto the right train and told us when to get off, which was not what the map said. Not that we could really read the map anyway, it was all in Danish. We decided to go with her directions. And good thing we did.

Central Station was right down the street from our hotel, Hotel Nebo. So it didn't take long to find where were supposed to be. It was a cross between a hotel and a hostel. So it was cheap, nicer than a hostel, but without the hotel amenities. Our two twin size beds pushed together to create the offered "queen-size" room was perfect!'

We got settled and decided to head out since the night was still young, plus I was getting hungry, which seemed to be a theme throughout the trip/ my life. Giddy to see all the beautiful architecture and sights of Copenhagen we practically skipped onto the side walk hand in hand. A few blocks into our walk and we saw "love shops" everywhere!! The words "erotic" flashed with neon letters in the otherwise blacked-out windows from the storefront of every other door. I heard Copenhagen was liberal and sort of hippie, but this was taking free love to whole new level. Dust held onto my hand tighter as we passed sketchy dive bar after sketchy dive bar after EROTIC, EROTIC, EROTIC. I kept trying to reassure him that the dive bars look great!...Everyone loves a dive bar!... Do as the locals do?... He wasn't buying it.

Red light district. We were staying in the red light district. Think Amsterdam just toned down a few hookers. Of alllllll hotels in allll of amazing Copenhagen, I find us one that is in the red light district, on the out skirts, but nonetheless we were in scary sexyville. Typical. Welp, here we go...

...planes, trains, and automobiles

Preface: I apologize for being behind on my blog updates. I have seen and done so much in the last few weeks that an overwhelming procrastination has taken hold of me and instead of writing a little, I write nothing. Here is my first attempt to catch all of you lovely readers up on my life in Finland.

Let me break down my incompetency of being on time. I have already mentioned that I am not good with time, but most people who aren't exactly punctual at least choose crucial moments to awe the crowd with their promptness. Not me, I go for wow factor inspired by "Wow! She seriously missed it...again?" Like the time I missed my flight from San Diego to Las Vegas for my boyfriend's brother's wedding rehearsal dinner that I was more than generously invited to in the first place. Nothing like making a memorable first impression on the family by making us 2 hours late. "I am sooo sorry!!" doesn't really cut it. (Which, I am still so sorry about!!)

Now that you have a more concrete idea of just how serious this time challenge is for me, let me tell you everywhere I have been since we last chatted. While we have been apart I have traveled to Barcelona by means of a catamaran ferry, taxi, plane, bus, and another taxi. I have also gone to the Aland Islands with the team for our season premier game via a 32 seater jumper plane and mini, but still big to me, overnight cruise ship back home. That's a whole lot of times for me to get lost, be late or miss my ride.

Spoiler alert!: I made every. single. one....somehow.

As lucrative as women's professional soccer is here in Finland, I wanted to stay grounded and remain among my many fans so instead of taking a relaxing 3 hour flight straight to Barcelona, I decided to take the 6 hour route by flying the discount airline, Ryan Air. My morning started with a 90 minute ferry ride from vomit hell leaving from Helsinki to Tallin, Estonia. I was forewarned the night before by my host dad, "Let's hope it's a nice morning, the boat is small. If it rocks at all, you'll feel it." Holy cow did I feel it? Along with half the ferry. Of the 90 minutes, I felt decent for the first 20...and that's probably rounding up. Serious case of seasickness-can't wait for the next 5 hours.

From Estonia I flew to a small airport, 90 km outside of Barcelona so I followed the crowd onto a bus that shipped us to the city. Finally we got there where I did not even attempt with the public transportation system. I still struggle with the buses in Finland (it took me an hour and a half and 2 buses to get the 30 minutes home from downtown yesterday. Shameful.).  I jumped into a taxi, tried communicating with the very, very minimal espanol I know from middle school and hoped I end up at my hostel. And I did. Phew!

Fast forward 3 days--Barcelona...Gaudi...sangria...tapas...dancing...beach...futbol--and it's sadly time to leave the sunshine and head back home. My crazy trip starts at 3 am when I have to catch my 90 km bus ride back to the airport for my 7 am flight back to Tallin to wait 4 hours for my 3 pm ferry ride back to Helsinki where I will have one hour before soccer practice. Let's go!

I slept all day, every where I could. On the bus, in the airport, on the plane..couldn't tell you if I had a man, a woman, or Messi himself sitting next to me on the flight. I was a walking zombie, not the gross bloody kind on TV, but a mindless, emotionless, half-alive, half-dead kind just trying to survive one more day in this hectic, yet more coherent world called life.

I recover three days later with some tender love and care, food, and lots of sleep. Just in time too because it was time to start the much awaited Naisten Liiga with our first game at Aland. The flight there was short and cramped, but successful. The game seemed equally fast and relatively successful. We won 1-0 off a pk. I started as outside left mid, which is growing on me. I still feel a little awkward and lost sometimes and find myself creeping too far forward or too far inside, but I'm getting there. I'm just grateful to be on the field.

I have never been on a boat overnight or any type of cruise ship, so I was so excited for the trip home. And it was a trip!! The boat didn't leave until 11:30 pm so I figured we'd maybe grab a beer like the girls had mentioned and then go straight to bed. This mostly is what happened, but all the bells, whistles, Salsa band, and magic acts were not expected. It was your corny, stereotypical cruise liner entertainment, but on a tight budget. Multiple bustling bars, teenagers running around, not young, hip grandparents, but old, hip replacement grandparents playing penny slots all going on with the have-to-yell-at-your-neighbor volume level of the salsa band rocking in the background. What the heck is going on, where am I, and how did I get here? It was absolutely hilarious and true entertainment gold.

I woke up the next morning from a gentle rocking of the ship thinking that it was all just a wild dream until we saw the tambourine playing middle aged woman from the night before gingerly eating her single piece of toast. Apparently all that enthusiastic ta-ta shaking and cha-cha dancing last night did a number on the poor girl. It's hard to bounce back after a whooping and hollering Viking cruise party like that.

Luckily, I was feeling great, but ready to get some restful sleep away from the madness at sea. Only at home, in your own bed, can the feeling of complete release take place and a state of relaxation and comfort start to settle in. It's so nice that I now find that peaceful, easy feeling (thank you, Eagles) in my little bedroom in Vantaa. It's becoming home.

Soccer update: We now have 2 wins. Undefeated so far. Woot! AND in our 5-1 victory last weekend against Ilves, I got my first official goal that actually counts. It was not a very exciting goal, in fact that ball just ended up bouncing right at me with no defender or goalie in sight and about 7 yards from the goal, but I'm okay with it. It's nice to see that life doesn't always have to be so hard. Next game is this weekend at home--looking for another 3 points!

Thanks for your patience and your endless support!

Peace and Love,
Cat

Afterword: It's been brought to my attention that I have some concerned readers that feel that my preferred rose-colored glasses view of the world is blinding me to the dangers that can lurk about. Thank you for your concerns; I am so appreciative that you care, but please don't worry,  I am doing and will continue to do great. There are many benefits of playing soccer, like being able to kick hard and run fast! :)

Picture time-->

The Port of Barcelona.

At Camp Nou, the FC Barcelona stadium with Aubree from San Diego. She is an au pair in Paris right now, so we planned to meet up over Easter weekend. So amazing to see her and get a taste of home. 

Casa Batillo designed by Gaudi. He is everywhere in Barcelona! Amazing!

Happy Easter! Enjoying the sunshine, sangria, and people watching- 3 of my favorite things.

Got the name "California girl" while roaming Las Ramblas. Is it that obvious...?

Outside La Sagrada Familia, Roman Catholic church designed by Gaudi. It started construction in 1882 and is still not finished. It was consecrated in 2010 by Pope Benedict XVI as a minor basilica. It is HUGE! 

Inside La Sagrada Familia. Gaudi was inspired by nature is his design.  

The colors from the stained glass windows were breathtaking. 

It's amazing the power of the ocean has on me. It was so revitalizing to have a little sunshine and be at the beach. It made me miss home, but made me even more anxious for summer.  

First Finnish win! 3 points for PK :)

...the skinny on saunas

"SAUNA NIGHT!" Finally. It was the long awaited team night following our scrimmage last Saturday (where I finally broke the ice and tucked my first goal and got my first assist). It was the first night the team has been able to kick off our cleats, let down our pony tails, and let loose. To physically let loose, this infamous sauna night starts with an actual sauna. I had to ask at practice earlier in the week if "sauna night" actually consisted of a sauna or if that was just the code name so that we could talk about it at practice without our coach catching on to the real meaning of the festive night--drinking.

Well as it turns out a sauna is involved. Brilliant! Drinking while simultaneously draining ourselves of every possible drop of hydration. You can imagine what that combination does to a sauna of girls. Uh, reverse that, don't imagine. I will tell you instead, so stay focused.

Be there at 6, so I promptly wander in from the bus station around 6:45. Still don't quite have the bus thing down, but I at least found the place without getting lost, so that's progress. Apparently we have a sauna in our locker room at our stadium. Cool, right? I thought so too. With candy, of course, and lots of sweet, sugary drinks, which also deserves an 'of course,' as I learned Saturday night, the sauna night madness began.

About two hours into the whole experience, I found myself laughing out loud at what was going on. And no it was not the pink punch concoction that ushered in this fit of laughter, but more of a what-the-hell-is-going-on  giggle. Four hours of a naked team walking and dancing around, then sitting, again naked, in a sauna practically shoulder to shoulder just chatting and gossiping like it's no big deal. This would never happen in America. Luckily, I am not modest and San Diego is the land of less is more when it comes to clothing most of the time, I guess I'm used to it? Plus, I didn't want to be that awkward freshman that doesn't shower with the team on the first road trip because it's an open, group shower. There is always one, and all the upperclassmen always laugh at her behind her back claiming that "she is just so young and cute." Well, eff that! I'm not young or cute, so let's do this!!!

Unintentionally though, I proved myself to be more comfortable than I had planned because pulling a typical, mindless move-- I forgot a towel. So while all the girls would wrap themselves up to and from the sauna or shower, I remained unwrapped and had no option but to be overly confident and just strut it out. It was ridiculous! A good portion of my time out of the sauna was spent standing in the shower area waiting to dry off. Which, by the way, is not a fast process when you're in a confined space that naturally turns into a humid steam room from the heat of the sauna combined with the water from the showers. But don't worry guys, I'm cool, still just drying!

After a few mandatory licorice flavored shots (they love licorice!) and some more dancing, we all got ready and went out to a club called Apollo. It was huge with three levels and two separate areas, the dance floor club part and an outside looking courtyard area that was confusing and had free Wi-Fi. Free Wi-Fi is my best friend, so Apollo therefore became the hottest spot in Helsinki. However, my buddy Apollo is a night-owl and doesn't close until 4 am. The two grandma Americans, who are used to last call being 2 am at the latest, had to call it an early night, so we decided to leave. Two Americans out on their own for the first time in downtown Helsinki, how bad could this be?

After strolling the streets for a while, fervently trying to find pizza after being denied a slice from a place called Pizza Express because appropriately they only sell chicken sandwiches, we resorted to settling for an average chicken sandwich. And what had once been an effort to having an "early" night turned into a not so early night because of this dang pizza, err, chicken place. Home, that now was all we cared about and how we were going to get there was going to be interesting.

The buses were chaotic and there was absolutely NO chance we would end up anywhere close to our houses if we took a bus, so making the first good decision of the night we decided to take a taxi. 30 Euro later we pulled up to Cynthia's house. Wishing to wake up in my own bed after a night like this, I asked the taxi driver how much it would be to bring me home too. "30 to 35." Well, shoot, I only have 18. "That's okay, you pay me when you get home." Sweet, let't ride.

It's 5 in the morning and I find myself with a driver who doesn't understand my English and somehow convinces himself that "football player" translates to hooker.  Awesome. No, I am not going to be your new girlfriend and yes the road is in front of you. Well,  the silver lining in the situation is that it will make for a good story in the morning. That is, if I get home. And, I guess one perk of my taxi driver thinking I am a hooker, is that being a woman of the night who is prematurely taking a taxi home to her cute suburban home clearly means that business isn't good. He must have felt bad for his new, struggling girlfriend because he didn't make me pay any extra.

Kiitos senor! Yes, home sweet home, my bed is just a few steps away...

No house keys. Feck!

Perfect ending to a seriously dysfunctional and amazing night? Waking up my sweet host family to let their demented American hooker into the house. Embarrassing, but a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do. I am relieved when a cheery smile answers the door and the warmth of the house welcomes me in.

I'm still recovering from the intense sleep deprivation and immense full body dehydration, but can't wait for sauna night number 2!

Other stuff, like soccer:
-Sweden was awesome and I have complete confidence that PK-35 is going to rock Finnish soccer this season. We went 1-1-1 for the weekend, which is a great result and we were really happy with it. We are good and the girls are such amazing people and players. I couldn't be happier with the team!
-Stockholm was beautiful! The characters I met in the hostel were too funny . The motto of the couple days was "You can't make this stuff up." Like the weird, black, studded  leather jacket wearing emo girl who refused to talk to anyone and fell asleep around 8 every night in her sheets that had giant pictures of cats all over them.
- We have this weekend off and season starts next weekend. AH! Can't wait.

Glad to see that Barca won last night because I'm off to Barcelona for Easter weekend. The city should be happy--Jesus and football!

Thanks for reading and your support!
Peace and Love,
Cat

PICTURE TIME:

Sauna night fun before heading out! 

Apollo, inside outside part.

Stockholm florists. They were all over the city. It was adorable! 

Old town Stockholm. 

Stockholm! 

Stadium of our tournament in Sundsvall, Sweden.

Sundsvall, Sweden.

...fumbling with public transportation

Growing up in minivan haven, aka the suburbs, there was not much need for public transportation. I had plenty of soccer moms willing, or more likely, obligated by their motherly contractual duties, to drive me to and from practice, the movies, the mall, etc. Don't even mention walking anywhere-that would have just been embarrassing. I mean, what if one of my cool middle-school friends saw me walking on the street? I would be branded a fool...Monday at school...just like Danny Zuko. Why do you think they had to renovate that piece of junk car into Grease Lightning? Because it was uncool to walk.

Now, fast forward through the synchronized dances and catchy tunes into modern-day Finland. Not quite the same as the carnival scene at the end of the movie, but it's close enough. Here I am dancing around the house excited about my first excursion to downtown Helsinki. I'm mm-bopping and getting ready, which consists of changing out of sweats for the first time, when my host mom (Teija) walks in with my bus card. She is so sweet and put money on it so that I am all set for my big day out. She explains how easily the card works, just take the 650 to the last stop, use the card to pay when you get on and you are all set! Great! Kiitos! (Thank you! One of the few words I know). She shows me exactly where to get on and at exactly-ish what time, approximately 1:30-35, and I am confident that I can master this first bus meeting on my own. How hard can it be?

First lesson learned-don't miss your bus. That makes it difficult to get anywhere if you miss your darn bus. Seems like a given, but you know, sometimes lessons are best learned the hard way. For example, when playing beer pong, don't hold your beer out for a free shot, because if they make it while you're still drinking, it is known as the death cup and you lose and you feel like a giant, dying loser. The existence of this particular rule was unbeknownst to me prior to this event, which may or may not have actually occurred, however the explanation of why my friend would demoralize me in such a way was, "Well, now she'll never do it again. She's learned the hard way." Okay, that's true. And similarly, I hope to never miss a bus again because it's added stress to an already stressful situation when I have to walk outside. The thought of rushing AND walking just gives me anxiety.

With my first bus missed I decide that the best next option is to just stand there staring at the back of the bus as it pulls away from the stop without me on it. Mouth open, laughing at my stupidity and thinking that this would happen to me, I stand and continue standing until I start to freeze. Moving helps the onslaught of hypothermia so I walk up to the bus stop and ask a friendly looking girl if the next bus will get me to the train station. I say a silent prayer that she speaks English and ask her in the simplest, most dumb-down manner about the bus. She responds in perfectly clear, hardly-an-accent-English and flips that dumb-down card right back onto me. Oops, I'm lame and feel rude now. I side-step the awkwardness that I imposed on my poor companion, who, thank goodness, doesn't seem bothered.

Of course I jump all over the fact that she can speak English and I begin to chat her up like she is my best friend who I haven't seen in five years. I act as if I am some highly acclaimed anthropologist doing my research among the local breed of Finnish bus travelers with the questions I was throwing at her, "what's the biggest difference between Finnish people and Americans?" In retrospect, I see that her response probably was supposed to halt my onslaught of inquiries, but as usual I was oblivious, "Well, we don't really do this...(hand gestures pointing back and forth from me to herself)...this small-talk like you Americans. When we talk, we generally get to the point because we have something to say." Ohhhh, right.

Choosing to ignore that I continue my assault and ask if she's ever been to America. She has?! Nice. Florida is beautiful...weather is a little different from here, huh? ha ha. September 9, 2001 for three weeks? Wow! How was that being a foreigner in America during 9/11? It must have been so crazy and interesting for you to experience something like that. (Again, I am channeling my inner journalist, or anthropologist, or annoying prier, and anticipating the most eloquent, philosophical answer about humanity as a whole) "Ehh, everything was closed that we went to see and since we are white skin, pale Finnish people no one cared about us. They knew we weren't terrorists."  Ohhh, right.

Not quite the elaborate answer I was hoping for so I decided to shut it and just get on the bus, which had just pulled up. The bus card is not as easy as I thought it would be, so the bus driver has to come help me, the eyes glaring from the back of the bus were not amused and I was targeted as an outsider. Though no one said anything, their eyes were screaming, so I clumsily shuffled to the first open seat by my new friend.

Second lesson, don't sit backwards on the bus. It is shaky and bumpy and even the toughest of stomachs can only handle so much rattling. I have learned this lesson now, and yet every time since this first bus trip, I hurry to find a seat because every time I have yelling eyes from the rest of the passengers because every time I can't get my stupid bus pass to work on my own. So, backwards I ride, EVERY TIME! It hurts. My ego is bruised that once again I can't get on the bus by myself, my self-esteem is battered and I feel ashamed that I am so inept to press the right button dictating where I am going, so it must be a subconsciousness decision to punish myself to endure the discomfort of sitting backwards.

Third lesson, don't be that person on the bus who can't get on and then insists on talking throughout the trip. Again, learned this the hard way.

I won't even start with the story of my first bus ride to soccer practice. It ends with a 45 minute walk in the snow, sans gloves, to the field from a bus stop that is about 10 minutes away. How embarrassing...people saw me walking.

I'm off to Sweden tomorrow for our first pre-season tournament. The games are going to be tough, so it will be good preparation for us before our league and Champions League starts. I'm anxious to see where I play-I've been moving all over the midfield and even a little in the back line as center back. Any goalie that has ever played with me just choked on her own spit at the mere thought of me back there. My keeper here actually made a point of telling me in her strong Nigerian accent that I am "no good there, you do not belong back there. I will tell the coaches you need to play somewhere else." Burn! Clearly it is not a pretty scene, but wherever they need me is where I'll play.

I am spending two extra days in Sweden to travel around Stockholm, so maybe I will have some more luck on the Swedish public transportation. A girl can dream!

Thanks for reading and all of your support!
Peace and Love,
Cat

PICTURE TIME:

Once I finally made it downtown, a few teammates took me around Helsinki and out to lunch. They were so cute and took me to an American inspired restaurant called Memphis. This picture is afterwards, freezing outside with ice cream in hand :) 

This is in front of  the Helsinki Cathedral. It's HUGE!

This has nothing to do with my post, but I would like to introduce you to heaven in pancake form. This is Finnish pancake, which is baked and eaten with jam or syrup. It is dangerously delicious!