tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-54706105768880303922011-09-19T23:34:48.276-06:00The story of a Swedish grad student, lost in the vast expanse of the Wyoming plains.Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.comBlogger371100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-36301434087929197932011-09-19T23:34:00.000-06:002011-09-19T23:34:48.281-06:00

Although technically referring to the St. Louis Rams of yesteryear, "The Greatest Show on Turf" is certainly American football. Forget soccer, forget rugby, forget baseball, and definitely forget cricket. Running the gridiron, tossing the pig skin, the chess game on grass: it has few competitors and no equals. Although I've only been watching for the last decade (masochistically throwing a

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-25532316210748123302010-12-05T23:39:00.000-07:002010-12-05T23:39:07.087-07:00

A recent seminar prompted some reflection on what I've actually been up to the last three years. More specifically, a recently hired postdoc in my department had invited her former advisor to speak, and was going through the inevitable introductory monologue. This brief speech typically recalls some humorous connection between the inviter and invitee, or at the very least something they shared.

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-76554258345509687562010-10-03T22:57:00.000-06:002010-10-03T22:57:15.225-06:00

Amazingly, Wyoming didn't switch directly from summer to winter overnight this time around. Incredible weather and pretty visuals have been dominating the last few weeks: But before summer was even over, Dad came to visit: So we chilled, drank beer, and caught some more fish: Fortunately we had amply luxurious surroundings, golf course included, to relax in after all that heavy lifting:

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-12607759802984556762010-07-12T23:55:00.000-06:002010-07-12T23:55:43.629-06:00

The other day I was re-organizing my storage closet, and I found an old roll of climbing tape that looked all red and dusty. I peeled it back a little bit and caught a whiff of the desert. I was instantly transported back to Indian Creek: So in May, I finally managed to get to Indian Creek, UT - perhaps the world's premier crack climbing destination. Over the last three years I've tried to go

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-80930659939807422482010-04-26T19:24:00.000-06:002010-04-26T19:24:37.498-06:00

Yep, it turned into another long winter, alright. Despite freakishly hot conditions all over the country, and unusually mild weather around here, we just got hit by another major snow storm. Although things will gradually improve over the next two months, we can still look forward to blizzards in May and sub-freezing temperatures in June. Meanwhile, I've been parked in front of my computer screen

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-46542446553390626662010-01-04T08:09:00.000-07:002010-01-04T08:09:49.583-07:00

"Out of sight, out of mind," they say. That goes for a lot of things, including many of those little details that make up so much of the difference between the US and the Old Country. It's always a little startling to be reminded when I go back. For instance, woolly bicycle seat covers: Good-looking women of Middle Eastern descent:   Filmjölk: Increasingly metrosexual men's fashion:

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-87345262878853455272009-11-26T23:01:00.000-07:002009-11-26T23:01:06.409-07:00

"No shit, there I was, 7,000 meters up on the mountain, trapped in my tent because of a storm, and then my partner Andrei starts freaking and coughing his lungs out..." That was the smash-cut opening to a climbing story I once heard around the camp fire, and as a metaphor it is fairly representative of my situation sometime mid-semester. I was involved in no less than six separate science

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-74223714946839477102009-09-01T00:11:00.004-06:002009-09-01T00:57:05.050-06:00

I recently opened my mailbox and found an envelope addressed to some unknown person (presumably the previous occupant of my apartment). However, there was no mistaking who the letter was from: the NRA. From a Swedish perspective, this is a somewhat mysterious organization and you may only have heard about it in the context of Michael Moore making fun of Charlton Heston (shame on you, Michael -

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-25397195619309439382009-07-30T23:16:00.009-06:002009-07-30T23:48:50.616-06:00

Recently had Mom and my sister here to visit - awesome! Showed them around the region and saw quite a few things I hadn't experienced myself. Quite a nice mini-vacation, as it were. The girls are now in New York spending Mom's money (and possibly Dad's, if they find clothes that are expensive enough).As is customary, I took them up to the Snowy Range first:And did a lap around Centennial, pop.

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-66351615865665045482009-07-19T22:46:00.002-06:002009-07-19T23:16:02.515-06:00

I've recently been informed by a certain anonymous reader that I'm portraying my good buddy Tom in a somewhat negative light. Admittedly, it's easy to take that spin - for one thing he photographs so very, very... curiously:But I'm not an unfair or cruel man - especially not to my friends. So, in an effort to remedy this perceived smear campaign against one of Laramie's finest, I give you a list

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-36381066079969074072009-06-29T12:25:00.010-06:002009-06-29T13:54:21.134-06:00

I've been listening to a lot of country and bluegrass lately. Both are forms of music that are pretty specific to the US, and to a somewhat limited demographic at that. I guess if you hang around the West and/or rural areas long enough you become part of that demographic. One song in particular has been going 'round and 'round in my head in the last few weeks: "American Remains" as recorded by

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-53189742778316798542009-04-18T18:42:00.003-06:002009-04-22T13:05:41.614-06:00

Many of the ancient peoples living Up North, where I grew up, felt an understandable paranoia about winter. Not only did it get colder than a witch's tit; the sun also seemed to disappear for months on end. By the time winter solstice had reduced daylight to a two-hour phenomenon they must've been pretty riled up about the world coming to an abrupt end. To appease the gods they sacrificed cattle,

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-59012158605935933442009-04-14T17:14:00.002-06:002009-04-14T17:16:35.628-06:00

15 minutes ago I passed my preliminary exams and thus did not get fired this year either. Yay me! Now I'm off on a bender. Three to four years until the next ordeal of that magnitude. That should leave me time for a few drinks...

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-69459013925949620242009-01-25T23:00:00.013-07:002009-01-26T14:03:27.397-07:00

Uh, somewhat belatedly, I guess. We're a good three weeks into 2009 already, and so far it's been a pretty decent year. I am no longer under the misrule of the Texan, the science shit is shaping up, and the weather has been fantastic lately. I've actually been out climbing without my shirt on (seems the Palace is good for something), and Vedauwoo has been at least bareable this last week.The

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-86878969078968172152008-11-15T17:59:00.013-07:002008-11-15T19:38:37.621-07:00

Poof! goes another month or two. And all of a sudden it's winter again. I still haven't gotten used to the violent swings in the weather here - both on a day-to-day basis and a seasonal one. It seems as though I missed Fall by blinking at the wrong moment. One morning I woke up and it was winter. Winds are now hitting 60 mph again (yuck!) and the clouds have that thin, wispy look to them that

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-67715689074034711792008-10-16T21:09:00.007-06:002008-10-16T22:19:13.816-06:00

Wyoming seems to be getting to me. After somewhat more than a year here, I'm getting slowly but surely sucked into the local customs. When I see an over-sized truck, I no longer think "Good Lord, what possible use could that thing be?" but rather "I gotta get me one of these":Listening to country music, yep, that too. It started fairly innocently with some classic Johnny Cash, then slid on

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-72316733640958782502008-08-20T15:29:00.004-06:002008-08-20T17:40:55.457-06:00

Last week saw me passing three milestones of my time here in Laramie: the one-year anniversary of my moving here, the Official End of Summer and the purchase of my very own automobile. Kind of a big week, in retrospect, although it certainly didn't feel like it at the time.So, my first year living in Laramie and going to UW is done. Funny, doesn't quite feel like a whole year has come and gone. I

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-28996550418186557942008-07-19T23:06:00.006-06:002008-07-20T00:10:50.086-06:00

I've always been easily bored. As a kid I must've played a dozen sports, but not a one of them held my attention for very long - a few years at best, and I certainly never rose above a medium skill level in any of them. Later on, I traveled a bunch, and over the last few years I've picked up my bags and moved - occasionally to other continents - every so often, in order to keep things fresh. The

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-28672241890418592612008-06-23T23:00:00.006-06:002008-06-24T01:43:03.325-06:00

Yes siree, summer finally came to the High Plains. The last two weeks have offered more warm weather than the last six months put together, and I've more than passed my personal mark for Start of the Season: climbing a route without my shirt on. Climbing in Vedauwoo, though, makes you consider that decision carefully. Nonetheless, the sun is shining, my pasty white ass is slowly tanning into

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-17199997560613618702008-05-26T15:34:00.003-06:002008-05-26T16:39:59.206-06:00

Hooray -- my ass didn't get booted back to Sweden today!For various reasons, I normally don't blog about my work or the people I work with, but today there's definitely call for celebration. As part of the MCLS program (which I'm in) here at the University of Wyoming, there's a big exam at the end of year 1. For those of you who have the skinny on PhD'ing it in Sweden, think of it as the

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-38782361627684409402008-05-22T17:10:00.003-06:002008-05-22T17:18:20.394-06:00

I've just had another genuine American West experience: getting hit by a tornado! I'm fine, though, since I wasn't particularly close to the path of it - and in any case, no known casualities in Laramie. It still had some pretty fearsome power, though: perfectly horisontal hail the size of marbles, all the cars in the Ford dealership getting their windshields blown out, equipment sheds flying

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-75172443585359729592008-05-03T22:35:00.007-06:002008-05-04T00:20:47.247-06:00

Back in the early 90's, Swedish-pretty-women-group Ainbusk Singers had a hit with their song "Jag mötte Lassie" (lit. "I met Lassie"). I don't even remember what it was about originally, but the phrase soon morphed (via a column in a local tabloid) into slang for meeting/seeing/being-run-over-by a celebrity. Preferrably it should be a B-list celeb, and even "meeting" them third-hand qualifies ("

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-88864349474261942962008-03-22T16:17:00.009-06:002008-06-18T16:59:13.787-06:00

So, as I said, I went off to the desert to climb for a week just recently. It's Spring Break here in the US, and in lieu of heavy drinking on the beach (the preferred Spring Break activity of college students all over America) I'd decided to go climbing. The initial plan was to go to Indian Creek and get spanked on endless splitter cracks, but with one thing and the other we decided to go off to

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-79012868295131600432008-03-21T17:34:00.003-06:002008-06-18T16:57:19.100-06:00

I'm wiped out. This morning, at 5 AM, I got back to civilization after spending a week in the Nevada desert just outside of Vegas, climbing 'til fingers bled and calves gave out. As it turned out, the destination became Red Rocks rather than Indian Creek, and long routes on good holds rather than short and desperate crack climbs. Nonetheless, absolutely fantastic. Summiting a spire in the late

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-11621298349275938362008-03-02T11:29:00.015-07:002008-03-03T21:57:10.306-07:00

I've been a bit busy lately. Somehow life conspired against me and I ended up working 60+ hour weeks for most of February. While a lot of shit certainly gets done that way, it also grinds me down in the long run. Fortunately, there are some diversions to get me through it all. I call a time-out a few times a week -- not so much for strategy purposes as for staying sane.First off, I take some time

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-48378019800665524822008-02-04T22:38:00.000-07:002008-02-06T22:47:40.800-07:00

Sometimes, differences between places or people are huge and obvious. One difference between Swedes and Americans, for instance, is that many Americans are both huge and obvious. What separates the spruce woods of Sweden from the jungles of northern Australia isn't that hard to figure out either, especially if your air conditioner breaks down. But sometimes, you have to spot the little

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-23910400275501074362008-01-03T07:22:00.000-07:002008-01-03T08:44:06.978-07:00

There are many things that you tend to forget when you've been away from a place long enough -- particularly those that you took for granted while you were there. They're not always good things, and this can make for a tricky homecoming.For instance, I'd repressed the memory of winter in Sweden being an almost entirely monochromatic affair. The snow on the ground is a brilliant white, the sky is

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-44651033500038599022007-12-21T14:58:00.000-07:002007-12-21T15:48:55.619-07:00

While I don't especially care for the Beatles' final album (they pretty much lost it sometime shortly after Sergeant Pepper, I figure), the song title does seem appropriate. I'm penning -- well, keyboarding -- this at Denver International Airport, where I've been for about five hours now. "What, is he stuck in a blizzard? Or did Lotta just have an unwholesome influence on his sense of timing back

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-49639724752473112532007-12-02T22:48:00.000-07:002007-12-02T23:31:55.387-07:00

"Advent", I'm told, originally meant "the season of waiting". From a religious standpoint, it denotes the four Sundays leading up to Christmas. It's a major secular celebration in Sweden, probably due to a desperate need for some light in the darkness. The beginning of winter has a tendency to be extremely sunless in Sweden: whether due to the overcast skies or the four hour days, or some

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-62174786144488755362007-11-12T21:08:00.001-07:002007-11-12T22:52:40.207-07:00

Lately, it seems I can't turn around without running into something reminding me of my geographical past. If it's not ads in the paper saying "Call 1-800-RSVP-SWEDISH", it's people from Scandinavia or cookies from Oz. I'm beginning to think that God is trying to tell me something - possibly that I should start feeling homesick. Or He's reminding me that I still haven't bought that plane ticket to

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-17317941224418180512007-10-28T13:10:00.000-06:002007-10-28T14:11:49.240-06:00

Yes, it's that time of the year again, when pumpkins are mercilessly mutilated and children all over the country chuck up their candy-colored stomach contents. What the ancient Celts would've thought of this is anyone's guess - the Sidhe were probably scarier than six-year-olds wearing plastic fangs and and capes.Of course, back in the Old Country, Halloween is not traditionally celebrated. Note

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-41839097459379238062007-10-21T23:12:00.002-06:002008-06-18T16:50:11.568-06:00

After some comments from the peanut gallery, I realize I might've gone a bit overboard with the climbing narrative lately. While I find it fun to write about, I appreciate that the majority of the readership might not share my fascination with the subject. Unfortunately, not too many exciting things happen in my life that are not tied into climbing -- my existence outside of the sport isn't

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-74979598987208016932007-10-14T12:55:00.001-06:002007-10-14T14:55:55.559-06:00

"Jingle-bells, jingle-bells, jingle all the way [...]" was echoing in my head as I biked to church this morning. The torrential downpour that started yesterday magically turned into snow during the night, and covered Laramie with a rapidly melting white overcoat:To many of the international students, this was a terribly exotic event, and I saw not a few of them taking pictures of the falling

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-88124838216806336812007-09-30T13:58:00.002-06:002007-09-30T15:34:19.367-06:00

Okay, that's it, it's winter. Just like the temperature oscillates wildly between night and day here in the desert (50 degrees is not uncommon), so it fluctuates between seasons. "Fall" around here is considered prime skiing season, and the aspen turned a brilliant yellow almost overnight last weekend. The natives tell me that the wind will claim the leaves in a matter of weeks, and then it's

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-61108729121666299152007-09-16T16:29:00.001-06:002008-06-18T16:46:29.139-06:00

Things are settling down in the Wild West. My most basic needs (money, food, shelter, coffee) are finally all in place - the cash was touch-and-go for a while - and I've been diving into my new life as a grad student. Being a creature of habit, I find having a routine pretty soothing. I've established a fairly good one now, I feel. Work at the lab (occasionally interrupted by classes) all day

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-29556620320403236132007-09-03T17:01:00.000-06:002007-09-03T17:43:45.328-06:00

Sweet Jesus, I'm tired! And it's related to biking to Montana (well, almost), but we'll get to that.So now I've survived my first week of classes here in America. Of course, nothing much actually happened since it was almost all introductions ("You will be graded on your attendence [...] GPA [...] office hours"), but still some sort of milestone. To my considerable glee, I only have one bonefide

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5470610576888030392.post-21370426473038610462007-08-25T16:19:00.000-06:002007-08-25T17:11:53.591-06:00

Yes, I'm still alive. Uncharacteristically, I haven't updated in what, over two weeks? It's a wonder I didn't just drop dead on the spot from withdrawal...The reason that I've been out of touch is simple: to put it mildly, I've been busy. To tell you the truth, it's been stressful as all hell. I spent my last week in Sweden saying goodbye (or more frequently "See you in six months!") to friends

Johan Grahnenhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02582277753920412421noreply@blogger.com0