Love is the fabric of the universe. The pulse of our cosmos. The flesh of our galaxy. It is everything in its completeness, and life means nothing without out it. Love is what drives us, stalls us, and propels us into unimaginable speeds. And it was brought me to Sweden to witness my baby cousin getting married.

This was my first long trip without my child, and by long I mean from Wednesday to Sunday. Help! I need to get out more! My flight was that special kind of torture -sitting between two sleeping strangers, snoring in a complex encompassing round of rhythms. I sat uncomfortably between them, my eyes hemorrhaging, watching the minutes tick by like eons. I landed in Munich, waited through the piercing morning hours, and then got on another vessel that catapulted me through the sky as I sat unimpressed by the magnitude of flight.

When I got to Stockholm, I took a bus to my hotel and realized that I wasn’t going to see anyone in my family for the next 6-hours. Despite the agony of my fatigue, I was only going to be there for a few days, so felt manically obliged to take in as much as I could, even if I was going to do it alone. I tried opening the door, but started to panic when I couldn’t. I frantically started looking around for some secret button or magic lever – rationalizing my hysteria as unfamiliarity with high-end Swedish design. I came up fruitless, yet as the frenzy claustrophobia set in I debated crawling out the window. I couldn’t understand what kind of technological advancements had happened in Europe that would make exiting a hotel room so vastly complex.

I finally admitted defeat and called the front desk

Toni: Excuse, me but I can’t seem to open the front door?
Front Desk: Did you try pushing?

Once this intricate mystery was solved, I ventured out into the world. I hadn’t really spoken to anyone in 24 hours, and I started to feel supremely lonely. Everywhere I looked there were happy mothers strolling gleefully with their children, and I missed The Munch. It was like I were living a cliché 80’s movie, aimlessly wandering the cobblestone streets looking for lost love – reminded of all I left behind with every step. The lyrics to All By Myself pounded through my head and echoed in my ears.

“Hello… is it me your looking for….”

And then I was like “Oh wait, this is actually amazing. I don’t have anyone I am responsible for or telling me what to do. Maybe I should find some place to get my twerk on?”

I was told to meet at the bride to be parent’s houseboat on Pfthzgfbggrth by 8:30 PM. They really are not fans of vowels in Sweden. One would think you have to pay a fine for using them, because their words seemed to be nothing but strings of consonants – which made it impossible to remember anything when anyone told me directions. I would just node politely and ask the next person 20 feet down until I eventually got to where I was supposed to be.

The next day I tried to appreciate my solitude, because there was a lot of it.  I took this opportunity to take as many pictures I could with street signs that had the word “fart” in them.  Only 10 members from my family were able to make it to the wedding, and we were spread out all over the city. I was supposed to join everyone on an adventure out to sea, but I missed the boat, both metaphorically and literally – which seemed like a pretty apt account of my life thus far.

The Swedes are cool people, although they are a little bit show-offy with their beautiful blond hair, fashionable clothes, and perfect physiques. I was like “yeah, I get it…. You don’t have to rub it in.” I felt really brown and frumpy. They are also pretty pagan with their level of sun worship, which I can understand considering they live 7 months in darkness. In the summer months, when the sun shines 21 hours a day, it is like they are fanatically possessed with appreciation for light. It seemed as if they had this unique connection to nature and the cycles of the seasons because they have to experience them in such extremeness. Swedes also have these epic animal names like wolf and bear – which made me really jealous that my name isn’t Eagle. WTF Mom?!

The thing I was most curious about the Swedes was their quality of life. I have heard a lot of their vast array of social services, and wondered if it was as utopian as it seemed on paper. I had met a new mother and asked about her experience with birth and parenting thus far. She explained that not only was she on her 1 year of paid maternity leave, but also when she was pregnant she suffered a stroke, so her daughter was born by emergency c-section – but they were in Ghana at the time. Not only did the Swedish government pay for the entire procedure, but they also sent a private plane to pick up her and her daughter 2-weeks later to bring them back to Sweden free of charge! Just like America right!???

The day of the wedding I realized that I didn’t have any make up, so I did what any normal person would do. I went into The Body Shop to put on eye shadow as the sales lady asked if I was interested in buying any. Ummm no thanks…. What is the point of purchasing this crap when you have these “testers” out to use? The wedding itself was pretty epic as my cousin and his bride rode in on horses. It was a pretty grand entrance.

Despite the lingering sun it was still freezing cold, so I cuddled under my aunt’s sweater and we were attached like Siamese twins for the entire outdoor cocktail hour. That was an ideal predicament for me because she could start all the conversations and I could look like I was being social when really just stood there observing people like an awkward appendage. We then did the normal wedding stuff, and danced to world music until the wee hours of the night/morning because it was still light out which was really confusing.

Here is me and my cousin! And some scenery.  And some fart signs!