Dag 18 – Min favoritfödelsedag (my favourite birthday)

I like birthdays. I don't like birthdays. I was at work on my last birthday, and - shock horror - didn't bring any cake in with me. Luckily it had been someone's leaving do the day before so we'd all eaten enough cake for the week (well...) so no one got upset. Haha. I must do better this year...

It's always a bit of a hype isn't it - you're expected to do this, to go out, to have a party and so on. I don't know, it's always a bit of pressure to *do* something. Sure I've had birthday parties - but rarely ON my birthday.

So I think I'll have to tell you about my favourite birthday party instead.

I don't actually remember if it was my 18th or 19th birthday. I think it must have been 19th? Joanna will remember! I was home alone, my parents and sister were probably off biking somewhere (man I've got a great memory) and my then-boyfriend was staying with me.

We were sat in my basement (the only cold place in the house - and the only place with a DVD player!) watching Phoenix Nights which he wasn't very keen on (actually, it must have been my 19th birthday cos I only discovered Phoenix Nights when visiting Warren and I'm sure I was 18 then!).

Anyway.

Patrik kept looking at his watch and I remember wondering why. Suddenly he turned the DVD off and picked up a scarf, and blind folded me. This is when I started getting suspicious. Ok, so Patrik was never the most predictable of people (ha!) but this was weird, even for him.

He led me out the door and I remember commenting on where we were going so he spun me around and around and around a few times and then kept walking. No good, it was a walk I've done at least a billion times (no exaggeration, honest!) so of course I recognised it. Still wasn't 100% sure why though, but we got to Edsbergsparken (big park, by a lake, ugly castle - for those who don't know the area!) and suddenly people were singing!

And sure enough, there were a bunch of my friends on a picnic blanket, with food and presents and cake.

In the days leading up this I'd walked in on Patrik quickly hanging up the phone, playing on my mobile etc... very odd. At the surprisebirthdaypicnic it obviously transpired that they'd been conspiring (see what I did there!) and he'd been getting numbers off my phone and Emma/Karin had been inviting people.

I still don't know who's idea it was but thank you!

on Snobbery.

It's so amusing. I find myself reading blog/forum posts around the net filled with British snobbery. Well. Let me explain.

They moan about posh people, about people with money - how awful anyone with a good upbringing or who was lucky enough to be born into an upper/middle class household is. They moan about those at the other end of the spectra - those without anything, those on benefits, those on the verge of desperation or on the periphery of society. Nothing and no one is good enough for these moaners, the worst snobs of them all.

If you're not brought up in a family who are/were struggling financially; if you didn't go to a crap school; if you can afford to go to uni without working at least 20 hours a week to earn your keep; if your family is actually supportive and help you out (financially or otherwise) to help you achieve your goals and - worst of all - if you actually accept their help: well then you're posh. You don't deserve good things, no matter how hard you work, because you've 'always had it easy'.

This little moan would make a lot more sense if I had some quotes to illustrate - but I'm not interested in starting Blog Wars 2009 (or, 2010 nearly...), and I'm not interested in hurting anyone's feelings, in case they happen to come across this post.

I'm just... I'm part amused, part annoyed by these people. Why shouldn't I embrace being born into a reasonably well off family; why should I have to be ashamed of that? I've got massive student debts - from the very generous Swedish government - and paired with my parents'/great uncle's generous gifts at Christmas and birthdays etc I've never *had* to have a job whilst studying. But for most of it I did - not a lot of hours, and not throughout, but the implication that everyone with a similar background to myself are strangers to working is insulting.

Don't get me wrong - I admire those that have come from a more difficult background who have worked so hard to be able to go to uni (or, who's parents have worked so hard to enable their kids to get a better future). But I resent the snobbery from some of these people.

It reminds me - somehow, I'm not 100% sure how - of 'old' vs. 'new' money. But the other way around. In that situation, the fact that 'new' money has obviously worked hard to get where they are is ignored - and the focus is on the lack of history/heritage...

I've rambled on enough now - and as always, completely forgotten where I wanted to go with this post. You're used to it by now, I'd have thought...

xx