Spencer

Mandy posted an entry about her dear friend Spencer today. It made me want to write an entry about him too. I've been working on an entry about him but I never find the words I need...

I've tried to write this as a fairytale for quite some time now. It's my fairytale. The problem is I don't know how it ends yet. I don't know if the last words of it will be "...and they lived happily ever after", or if there'll be crying and sad stuff in the end. But the other day, the other main character in this story, Spencer himself, said the magic words: "It's a win/ win situation no matter what. It's either a friendship or a relationship!" and with that I let the heavy cloud of expectation dissolve in the sunlight.

Now I'm at a loss for words again, when it comes to telling the actual story... So I'll cheat. I'll use words I already wrote. A year ago from Saturday (July 2) I found a photo on the internet. This photo:

I clicked it and then my life changed. I wrote this text four weeks later under the title

Blame Canada
----------------------------------
In the grey mass of No-one-in-particulars one pair of eyes shone through. There were so many thoughts in them. Click.
In there I found a sentence that made me smile. Click.

So I wrote a few lines and sent them. I don’t usually do that.

In return I got a page full of humour, warmth and personality. It was written in an unpretentious and seemingly unplanned way, where each well chosen word came as a pleasant surprise. I got the story of Tracy McKee and her pierced toes. I got little jokes and word games that weren’t the least bit cheap or far fetched. I got beautiful words about my words. He said he liked my eyes, because there were so many thoughts in them, so I clicked again. In to the next program and in to that Friday night…

And I got more words. More of those beautiful, well chosen, personal, recognisable words. He was two hours late for something he was supposed to do with some friends that night. I didn’t go to bed until after four in the morning. We did not want to stop talking.

Click.

The next day he had bought a camera and I didn’t even get scared. We saw. We heard. We talked. And talked. I found myself in somebody else. That has only happened once before.

We saw each other’s reflections in each other’s eyes. Eyes that had so many thoughts in them. And I found parts of myself in him, that I didn’t know I had missed, until now when I found them. And he said he found parts of him in me, that he didn’t know he had missed, until now when he found them.

We have shared in one month, what it usually takes a year of friendship to share. We talk. And read. And discuss. And smile. And talk. We say “me too” and “we’ll see”.

It’s all I ever wanted, wrapped up in the same package as all I never wished for. It’s all I long for, within the same soul as all that I fought hard to get rid of. It’s understanding in the same sentence as a question mark? It’s all I believe in the same idea as all that I’m opposed to.
There is cat food in the dog’s bowl.

I’m fascinated, interested, intrigued, curious and scared. I’m not afraid of water, but the vastness of the Atlantic Ocean frightens me. I’m not afraid to fly, but the thought of someone else getting on a plane makes me terrified. At the same time the adventure is alluring. Pulling. Demanding.

I can’t say no, because it would be as if a new part of myself came and sat down on my couch and talked to me. And continued to talk to me. And continued to smile with me. And finally, I would get to meet those eyes. Those eyes with so many thoughts in them.

My hands are shouting to meet him.
----------------------------------

A year of almost daily contact has passed. I feel like I know him inside and out. His friends have become my friends. But I still haven't met him. Yet.

He arrives here the day after tomorrow and I can't tell how it feels. Imagine every feeling there is, then add more of everything and stir. Then throw it all out the window and see what you're left with. That's where I am. I have no idea. I just know it feels a lot. He'll stay for about two weeks, and I promise I'll try to find the words to at least finish the fairytale after that. Whether it's happily ever after, or if it's a "just friends" kind of ending.

My hands are still shouting to meet him.

creativity

I also want to post stuff about beautiful stuff I make, but I haven't done much recently and if I have I haven't been able to update my website with it because my computer is acting weird. But since I read a few knitting blogs nowadays I often feel jealous or inspired by other people's creativity. And then I think to myself "I can't do that", but then I add "...but I can do this!" and look at one of my paintings or wear one of my necklaces... and so on. But since I haven't really documented anything new recently I thought I'd make sure that you all have seen my online portfolio at least. Though keep in mind there is more to be added to this page - soon.
Just wanted to brag a bit by sayin "I make stuff too!" without sounding too big headed...

Swedish - svenska

Since I have two blogs in two different languages I have actually been asked to teach my English speaking readers some Swedish. This is no easy task, but in preparation for the visit from Canada (I’m still working on a blog entry about that. It’s too huge in my head to fit in a blog!) I’ve bought a Swedish – English phrase book. But I have to warn you; This book has been more beneficial to me than it ever will be to anyone with English as their first language! I’ve been laughing myself silly over here, and whoever I show it to also end up on the floor holding their stomach from laughing fits worthy an Eddie Izzard DVD. Those pronunciation hints, or whatever you might call them, are just too funny! They teach you a very bad American accent, I tell ya’! So I’m guessing my Swedish readers will enjoy this entry as much as the rest of you. This list are direct quotes from my book, but if you want more there is one online. I’ve enclosed the link here.
Anyway, here we go:
Swedish for beginners (with heavy American accent):

English = Swedish pronunciation
hello = hej hay
good morning = godmorgon goo morron
good night = godnatt goo nut
excuse me = ursäkta mig eurshekta may
sorry = förlåt furlawt
Sweden = Sverige svairr-yeh
1 2 3 = en två tre en tvaw treh
4 5 6 = fyra fem sex fewra fem sex
7 8 9 = sju åtta nio sheu otta neeoo
10 = tio teeoo

And now some phrases:

- I don’t speak Swedish
- Jag talar inte svenska (yaag taalar inteh svenska)

- I don’t understand
- Jag förstår inte (yaag furstawr inteh)

- I can’t eat this
- Jag kan inte äta det här (yaag kun in the airta det hair)

- My name is...
- Jag heter… (yaag hehter)

- What do you do? (also: What are you doing?)
- Vad sysslar du med? (vaad sewslar deu mehd)

- Can I buy you lunch?
- Får jag bjuda på lunch? (fawr yaag byeuda paw leunsh)

- Thank you. I’d love too.
- Tack, det vill jag gärna. (tuck det vil yaag yairna)

- I’d love some company
- Jag skulle vilja ha lite sällskap (yaag skeulleh vilya haa leeteh selskaap)

- Can you repeat that please?
- Kan ni upprepa det tack? (kun nee eupp-rehpa det tuck)

- Congratulations!
- Varma gratulationer! (varma grateu-lashooner) or Grattis! (grat-ees)

And my personal favorite:
Refridgerator = kylskåp chewl-skawp

mum - five points

I'm sorry but this entry will be a total ripoff of my entry in my Swedish blog from yesterday. It's good and I find myself ready to translate. Not every post receives the honour of being posted bilingually, so here we go:

My mother's been to visit me over the weekend. For two days we've been talking, riding rollercoasters, watching movies, talking some more, eating dinner out and talking even more. My mother is the Best, though we still get sick of each other a little after two days together. But that's just because she's a mum and I'm a daughter and the getting-annoyed-bits are just part of the deal. Now that she's left again I want her back here. It's a typical mum thing.

Mum turned something-ty this year, and her work colleagues got her a great gift - The Gold Pass for the amusement park of Liseberg here in Gothenburg (By the way, Gothenburg is actually called Göteborg in Swedish and is pronounced "Djeuttebawrdj"). Their reason for giving her such a gift was "You love rollercoasters and you get to see your daughter more". She's got the best colleagues. And I've got the best mum. Because her next words to me were: "If I have a Gold Pass, I'll still have to buy you tickets every time because that's what mums do. So it'll be the same thing to my wallet whether you or I have the pass, so here you go!"
Oh my God! I'm now the proud owner of a Gold Pass which means free entrance and free rides (!) all season! Thank you mum! Anyone up for a ride on the rollercoaster "Balder" with me?


Then Mum asked if we should be counting points while at the park as well. I didn't understand and she said she couldn't believe she hadn't shared her "points-for-people-system" with me yet - so she did. Now I'll count everybody!
The thing is: My mother isn't supersticious per say. I mean she doesn't throw salt around or knocks on wood all the time, but she has her little... let's call them "rituals for luck". For example: Any day when you see a Saab V4 is a good day (just because those cars are so cute. Imagine her joy when I owned one a couple of years back...). Furthermore the number 11 is extremely lucky (I was born in November). It's so lucky she could wait for many turns at the wheels of fortune to bet on number eleven... only to explain the fact that she still didn't win with bad luck... hm...
Anyway, this points-for-people thing works like this: You get points for people you meet in the street according to the chart below, and the more points, the luckier the day.
- recognizing a face and placing it = 1 point
- knowing their first name = 1 point
- knowing their last name = 1 point
- saying hello = 1 point
- stop for a chat = 1 point

Therefore - someone you know and stay to talk to awards you five points, while that guy who works in that store only gives you one measly point. If "that guy" recognizes you and says hello though, you get one more point. Should you remember later that his first name is Carl, you get yet another point. Celebrities are almost always three points - since you don't say hello and don't stop for a chat.


I have a strong feeling that this, like so many of my mother's "mind games", will stick and I'll catch myself thinking stuff like "If I get ten points before heading home today I'll buy me something pretty/ go to the dentist/ other appropriate reward"

Thank you mum. I'm now even more wonderfully nuts! I have more games like these, most of which I've inherited from my mum. There is the "I-can't-go-to-sleep-games" and the "I-spy-games". There was a game like this presented in a Swedish movie a couple of years ago. The movie was called Vuxna Människor (Adults), and the game was played while going on an escalator in the subway. You Had To Pick one going in the opposite direction with whom you'd like having sex the most. Problem was that if you didn't pick the somewhat cute one in the beginning you might be stuck with an old creepy one at the end...

Anyway, my favorite is the "coffeehouse guest short story" in which you pick a party of people at a nearby table and you make up a story about their lives, why they're there, what they're talking about etc. This is even funnier when you make up a story together with a friend, or a mum...

top ten

Since I claimed in my last post that the robot body builder pushed the Kindergarten Cop off the top ten of weirdest moments in history, I guess it's only fair that I post the full list. Remember, this is my list, and I know there are weirder moments that I didn't think of right now. I'm not afraid of change though, so feel free to send in your favorites to challenge my top ten! So here it is:

Top Ten Weirdest Things (according to Lisa)
1. George W Bush reelected
2. Barbie
3. godhatessweden.com (why?)
4. robot body builders (see previous post)
5. prejudice in general (It exists. Embrace it alright?)
6. sacrificing everything over money
("So it destroyed our planet... but I earned millions from it!")
7. overly bendy people
8. all those guiness records that nobody knows about
9. reality show participants referred to as "celebrities" or "stars"
10. the time and effort put into certain flash animations
(I love this one!)

...and I guess I have to add that comedies starring Arnold Schwarzenegger (and the fact that he's now governor!) is still lurking around at a hypothetical no. 11.

And I thought about putting mirrors on the list too, but mirrors are too weird so they didn't make the list.

robot

This is probably the weirdest thing I'll see this year. And I already thought this was a weird sport. Arnold as the Kindergarten Cop is no longer one of the top ten weirdest moments in time. This is way weirder. Thank you Rachael for the link and the laugh!

twenty loud

I work with kids. Me and fourteen little angels are trying to work in a room next to the pillow room. The boys in the pillow room are loud. Very loud. I stick my head out the door:
- Guys, we're trying to work in here, and there's only five of you but it sounds like twenty!
One angel of five and a half years of age points at his friend:
- HE's twenty!

divine moods

God was a woman with severe PMS today.
At first she beamed at everybody and smiled warmly, just to turn around raging like el Niño! In the middle of a heart-warming laugh, that made me take a dance step or two coming out the door into the sun, one of the prophets must have handed her a hairbrush after she’d already combed her hair. Or maybe he bluntly told her she looked fat, because she started crying so fast she didn’t even get to wipe the smile I’d been dancing in off her face first. And then she slapped that prophet so hard I could feel the wind from it all the way down here. And she cried and cried. But I think the prophet apologized. Maybe he even gave her a kiss, because now just before bedtime all her tears have been dried up. She’s now falling asleep with a smile, and the warm light from under her drooping eyelids makes my living room bathe in orange.

What I’m trying to tell you is: We had strange weather in Gothenburg today.

alphabet

I don't care if it's from Berliner Zeitung or where it's from...
I love this alphabet thingy!
By the way... You all know how to fold a T-shirt right?

gif animation

I'm building a prototype webpage for my little company and this afternoon I mastered gif animation for the first time. Pray for me so that I don't go crazy with this, or my pages will all twinkle and twirl before you know it... But check it out! My new logo animated:

I also made a giraff supervising something...

book tip

WTF?

I'm trying not to use foul language in my blog but sometimes it's hard not to. Rachael posted about these idiots (Texas State House) in her blog and I'm steaming mad.
First of all: I thought this was the year 2005 and that we had come much further than this. I'm not gay by the way, but I'm a human being, thus obliged to react when other human beings forget what being human is about... or whatever these idiots are thinking.
Second of all: Isn't parenting about loving a child and helping it become all it can become, and not about what gender adults you prefer sexually?

manatee

I found this picture and I realised I forgot one of the dreams I had as a kid. I saw a documentary once on amazonian manatees and fell in love. Before I die, I want to meet one of these guys in person.

questions and answers

More questions and more answers. Mandy's right: Questionnaires are good for blogging. It's easier to blog without any real inspiration for writing having a questionnaire to follow... So this is one I got in Swedish a couple of months ago. I just translated the questions and answered them all over again:

1: Open up a book near by. Turn to page 12. What's the fourth sentence in that page?
My passion, both as psychiatrist and as Dice Man, has been to change human personality. (The Dice Man by Luke Rhinehart stands by the computer since I've been reading it to Spencer. It's crazy but great.)

2: Reach out your left arm as far as you can. What do you touch first?
The door of a closet with my schedule taped to it. I can't stretch though... It's like 20cm from my shoulder.

3: What are you wearing?:
Black underwear. Black pantyhose. Black knee long skirt with grey flowers. Grey socks with pink dots and dark grey legwarmers. Grey tight top under my huge, soft, thick, lovely, black, long, knitted turtleneck sweater. Glasses.

4: What's on the walls in the room you're in?:
Mostly wardrobes. A hatrack with a chaos of shawls, jackets, gloves and bags on it. A mirror. Shelves with ringbinders and architecture books. (Did I mention I have my "office" in my hallway)

5: What's the view out the window like?:
I have no window here, but if I look through the livingroom I see greyish, foggy weather and a tree trunk with some branches on it. (They just cut off most of the crown of the maple tree beside my balcony.)

6: Who was the last person you shared a bed with?:
Person? I was going to say my stuffed dog... but okay... last was... my friend Josefin (Just SLEEPING, you guys!). Sad but true. This question makes me feel lonely.

7: If you ever give someone flowers, what kind of flowers do you choose?:
Something that suits the receiver. I'm the florist's nightmare (or dream) since I love to compose the bouquet myself, often with strange but lovely combinations.

8: Have you ever worn your pyjamas in public?:
Not that I can recall, and I guess that would mean being naked in public since I sleep nude. I think I would remember if that had happened. Well, if you don't count running outside after 20 min in a sauna or skinny dipping. I've done both.

9: Your three favorite things in your room?:
I only have one room. The rest of the apartment is kitchen, hallway, bathroom. I have to say my two paintings that I've made myself. One of them can be seen here. (update later: oups, I forgot to name a third thing... I think that'll have to be the toy cabinet my mother got when she was four that I had in my room as a kid and that still stands in my room fitting in perfectly and making me feel very much like home.)

10: What color is your shower curtain?:
There is no curtain. I have a Huge shower cabin with sliding doors in glass. The man who lived here before me used to have a bathtub and when they renovated he chose to just put up a glass wall and keep the whole area... I have like 2 square metres to dance around naked in under streaming water.

11: What's behind you?:
Kitchen door, mirror, bathroom door. Nothing exiting at all. Boring question.

12: Have you ever bought anything in an internet auction (like e-bay)?:
Yes. My mother got an antique teapot from a series she loves that I bought online. And I have a broche I bought in the same place. It's silver and shows the family crest of the Medici family in renaissance Florence.

13: What do you order in a café?:
Latte Grande. Or coffee with two sugars and milk. And perhaps a muffin on rare occasions. Anyway, it's not the coffee or the muffin but the company that matters. Even though I sometimes go to sit in a café by myself, but then I usually have the company of a book.

long pants

By the way: You must see this to understand why I suddenly cry out:
"Long pants! Gleaming pants! Glorious pants!"

oh Canada!

So much has happened. So many thoughts have been thought. So many smiles have been smiled and so meny feelings have been felt.

First of all, Mandy's package arrived! We exchanged gifts without having met and this is one of the funniest friendship thingies I've ever done! We're getting to know each other in all the wrong ways (exchanging gifts instead of phone numbers, blogs instead of conversations and have mutual friends instead of each other to begin with) and it's all so... Right! I love this girl already. She wrote many wonderful things about and showed photos of what I sent to her here (click). And this is what I got in return:

First of all: The Shawl!
It's apparently known as The Flower Basket Shawl, but Mandy described it as being "Snowhite in Scary Forest Kind of Beautiful". I like that description. She asked me about colors and I just said "think forest" and she did! Just LOOK at this! I love, love, loooooove it!

And this is how I wear it all the time now:

(No, I haven't tampered with the colors. Having the flash go off less than a metre from my face does that to my eyes. They are that blue. I'm Swedish damnit!)

But that's not all folks! Oh no! The wonderful Mandy does not only know how to use yarn and make it beautiful in all the wonderful shapes and colors of her imagination, but she knows how to sow as well! So there was also this purse included! It's so damn practical she should have a big shiny award for being so inventive!




Did I mention I looooooooooove it? In case I forgot then:
I looooooooooove it!

And did you think the lovely stuff that has come to me from Canada ends there? No. The Wonderful Mandy is married to the Wonderful Zak, and lucky for me (less lucky for Mandy I bet) he's working in Norway for a couple of months. And since Norway, and the little town of Skien where he works, is so much closer to me than Vancouver he took the chance and paid me a visit this past weekend. I had never met him and hardly spoken to him before this, and now I consider him a dear friend. We talked for 18 hours straight Saturday! (Got up at 10am. Went to sleep at 4am) We covered everything from food (He cooked for me! All guests should cook for their hostess!), life, relationships, parents, biology, philosophy and everything else a wise Canadian man visiting and his Swedish hostess could ever discuss. I had a great weekend, and when he left he'd given me so much to think about I felt dizzy most of Sunday and Monday from all I had to process. Thank you Zak. Your gift was as creative, lovely and generous as your wife's.

(Yes, I'm wearing the shawl!)

All of this just because Spencer is who he is. I wish he got how special that is. By being himself and having people loving him he's won me two new lovely friends. Thank you Spencer, for being you.

questions anyone?

I’ve been in an I-only-write-in-Swedish-period for a while. I’m sorry.
A lot has happened. I work a lot. I’m happy, but also stressed. Now I’m leaving for Easter holidays. I’m lecturing (!) at a theme night for a big housing company here in Sweden. They have a theme night about female architects and the changing tasks for our profession in general (Phew! I'm nervous!). Then I’ll go visit friends and hopefully feel free and a little relaxed for a couple of days. But, I don’t want you to forget me or who I am. I rather want for you to get to know me better, and also for my own pleasure (since these tests are quite fun) here’s me right now, presented in the form of a questionnaire that has been circling the blogs for a while.
All answers presented in random order:

THREE THINGS YOU LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. I treat everybody the same (it’s only myself I’m unfair to sometimes)
2. my eyes
3. I talk a lot, but I actually say something too.

THREE THINGS YOU DON’T LIKE ABOUT YOURSELF:
1. procrastination
2. that I really miss exercising, but I don’t
3. my low self esteem (Get Over it already!)

THREE PARTS OF YOUR HERITAGE:
1. my Viking blood ( I kill stuff for fun and burn small villages to the ground in my spare time.)
2. Belgian French Vallons gave me my taste for fries
3. my grandmother left me this ring, but she’s still alive so that’s more of a gift than something inherited.

THREE THINGS THAT SCARE YOU:
1. reality shows on TV
2. wasps
3. the future

THREE OF YOUR EVERYDAY ESSENTIALS:
1. internet
2. pens, pencils, crayons and paper
3. people

THREE THINGS YOU ARE WEARING RIGHT NOW:
1. black underwear
2. ugly but comfy pants It’s Sunday.
3. glasses. It’s Sunday – I didn’t bother with the contacts.

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE ARTISTS (at the moment):
1. Tori Amos
2. Joni Mitchell
3. Eddie Izzard

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE SONGS AT PRESENT:
1. ”winter” Tori Amos
2. ”Both Sides Now” Joni Mitchell
3. ”Torn” Natalie Imbruglia – with sign language interpretation (click it!)

THREE NEW THINGS YOU WANT TO TRY IN THE NEXT 12 MONTHS:
1. go to Canada or have Canada come here
2. travel and go shopping with Josefin
3. find an exercise form that suits me

THREE THINGS YOU WANT IN A RELATIONSHIP (love is a given):
1. understanding, consideration, care
2. good sex
3. safety (in me, in him, in us)

TWO TRUTHS AND A LIE (in no particular order)
1. peanuts, the smell of peanuts, the thought of peanuts make me vomit
2. I’ve turned down an invitation to a lesbian threesome - twice
3. I’m better than you.

THREE PHYSICAL THINGS ABOUT THE OPPOSITE SEX (or same) THAT APPEAL TO YOU:
1. the dent between the shoulder and the neck – the snuggle place
2. eyes
3. hands

THREE THINGS YOU JUST CAN’T DO:
1. eat peanuts
2. believe in myself as much as I deserve
3. go to Canada tomorrow – unfortunately.

THREE OF YOUR FAVORITE HOBBIES:
1. creating stuff
2. having friends around me
3. sitting alone and ponder

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO REALLY BADLY RIGHT NOW:
1. have sex
2. clean up my apartment and enjoy it
3. calm down

THREE CAREERS YOU’RE CONSIDERING:
1. architect
2. historian and professor in art and architecture
3. writer

THREE PLACES YOU WANT TO GO ON VACATION:
1. Canada
2. Rom (again and again), and the rest of Italy
3. Machu Picchu

THREE KID’S NAMES:
1. Amandus (mum’s grandfather)
2. Engla (dad’s grandmother)
3. Karin for a second name (my aunt and my “sister’s” name)

THREE THINGS YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE:
1. feel totally happy
2. have children (or at least child)
3. write a novel (or maybe just a PHD)

THREE PEOPLE WHO HAVE TO TAKE THIS QUIZ NOW OR DIE PAINFULLY:
1. I don’t want anybody
2. to die so I’ll leave it
3. up to you.
(Though it would be fun to read some more of these.
Mandy maybe? And Rachael?)

action

I live between two hospitals. I’m used to ambulances passing outside, but moments ago the twirling blue lights did seem a little much, so I went out on the balcony and THIS is what I saw. The ambulances weren’t passing. They had stopped. Three of them. And so had two firetrucks (one is out of frame on the photo).
Reason: The poor busdriver had ran his bus into the traffic light post. Why? I guess only the busdriver and his now evacuated passengers know. The weird thing is that it was the blue lights that made me notice this going on just outside my window. Not the crash.
What did this busdriver do? And what kind of injuries requiring three ambulances do you get from a bus driving into a post in the middle of an intersection, turning… He must have been driving very slowly, because it’s in the middle of the turn, so I’m guessing there must be a car hidden behind the bus in the photo, and that there is a big dent in the side of the bus as well. I can see no other explanation to justify three ambulances and two fire trucks… This is normally a quiet neighborhood, but a few ambulances can very suddenly make you get in that Cagney-and-Lacey-action kind of mood… (Remember those by the way? They’re on the air again here now. Though very late at night as if they’re afraid anyone will notice).

On a completely different note:

I’m shocked by the total lack of humour in some people… Last Saturday, in a yearly music competition show on TV, one of the hosts was a Swedish comedian by the name of Henrik Schyffert. He made an appearance as the indian chief “Shaved Beaver” dressed in bottomless chaps.
He spoke in an ugh-ugh kind of incomprehensible language, with subtitles “translating” his ughs as comments to the competition and the show. Even though the naked-butt-and-make-fun-of-show-business humour hadn’t appealed to me yet in life, this was actually hilarious. However…
The Swedish-Indian association (?) has now reported the sketch for “agitation against an ethnic group” and the errand is actually being handled by the police! I didn’t know the Swedish-Indian association existed before this and I suspect it’s a publicity scam to attract new Humourless Native American Swedes to their ranks. If not:
Why didn’t anyone ever report the Village People?

vomit

I don't vomit. I just don't. I hate throwing up so much my body really has to force me if I need to. I even feel a little sick writing about vomitting here. Since my stomach flu or whatever it was when I was 11 years old I have vomitted 7 times all in all. Three of those seven times were yesterday.

I shivered under three quilts and a blanket while being covered in sweat. I was dizzy. And I vomitted. In short: pure horror.
In my world vomitting is a sure sign that you'll die.

I almost died yesterday. Well it felt as if...

Mummy said food poisoning. Thank GOD! Today I had a big presentation and introduction at a school where I'm helping kids do a project to get a better schoolyard. I could NOT be home sick today. And mum was right. I was fine this morning. I didn't die. Even though I vomitted.

The introduction went fine and I feel as if my life is really beginning to pick up speed.

And the big book sale started today. Tomorrow I'm shopping for books and drawing some illustrations... Sometimes I get paid to draw. Sometimes I have a great life.

reunion

I hoped for it for sure, but I never dreamed it would happen so soon.

Eddie is coming back to Gothenburg, and I have a ticket. YAY!
This time it's not in some shitty bar with rude waitresses, but in a theatre and J will be home and she's going too and maybe an online-aquintance I haven't met yet will also come along... As if "Eddie's coming to town" could get any better!?
We didn't get to sit together, but as long as I can see and hear Eddie, I really don't mind.

Today is February 21. He'll be on stage on March 15. Countdown.


(And yes, finally, that is in fact a picture of me. Not the best one ever taken, from a vanity point of view, but Eddie is standing right next to me so it's a great photo no matter what I look like.)

nothing

I didn't win anything on the lottery ticket.
Maybe next time...

valentine

inside it says:
I’ll Show You Mine If You’ll Show Me Yours

I don’t care much for Valentine’s Day. It’s made up, it’s all about money and big business rather than romance. However…

When a perfect card falls on my doormat with perfect timing, I can do nothing but smile. Well, I cried too, but while smiling so it doesn’t count. And he had enclosed a lottery ticket and one of those folding thingies that tell kindergarten kids their future, and underneath each fold is one of our private jokes. It's so wonderful.

If I win enough money to get him to come over here on that particular lottery ticket, I'm selling the rights to this story to Hollywood.

I don’t care much for Valentine’s Day, except for when I myself get a card.

A and Z

Two letters arrived. One more frequently read than the other.

And I’ve been to Barcelona.

There is a lot to tell about a lot that has happened, so I guess I’ll take it in alphabetical order.

Antoni Gaudí is one of the most spectacular architects of our time. He is usually referred to as an art nouveau architect (in Spain called modernista style), but I disagree. Gaudí’s style is something unique only to him. His best known masterpieces are probably the cathedral Sagrada Familia, and the housing buildings Casa Milà and Casa Batlló. (I have taken a lot of better pictures myself, but my computer being what it is at the moment I don't dare jinx it by storing anything new on here until I've exchanged my disk. I hope to update this entry eventually with Lots of Gorgeous Photos I've taken myself.)
All of these are in

Barcelona, where I spent last weekend (Thursday to Monday) to celebrate my mother turning 60. Happy Birthday Mum! I love this city, and I can’t even begin to tell you about all the marvellous things to do and see. Well I guess I can begin, but I would go on forever and ever about it… But Gaudí plays a big part in it, and the old parts of town (Barrí Gotic – the Gothic city) are a wonderful maze of 15th century houses built on roman foundations and so on and so on… And the food… And the sights… And the art! We went to the Miró Museum, which I loved so much, but the line to the Picasso Museum (that hosts, among other masterpieces, the great “Guernica”) was to long and the rain was pouring down on us on Sunday so we missed that one this time. In short: The

City of Barcelona is one of my havens on earth. I can easily see myself simply deciding not to go back home the next time I get there. Being the

Daughter of the birthday mum, one of the greatest women on earth, I got this heavenly weekend as a gift, simply because she wanted to have me with her.
THANK YOU MUM!

Eventually however, I had to get on the plane and go home. My poor aunt who was also with us had a bad cold by Monday and her ears hurt during the whole flight home. Having your ears stuffed from a cold and not being able to breathe properly is among the most uncomfortable things I know, so I felt real sorry for her.

Finally we got off the plane, loaded with taxfree shopping bags and impressions from a great weekend (the taste from the seafood dinner on Saturday still lingers on my tongue somehow. It was That Delicious!) and I stayed in Stockholm for two days. It’s nice to just walk the streets of our beautiful capital, with some friend I don’t see too often (I did this with two different wonderful people), and those two days somehow felt like more of a vacation for me than the adventurous days in Barcelona.

Great to get a break, but it’s also great to get back home with renewed energy to attack everyday life. And when I got home I found the Missing Letter lying on my doormat. Eight plus two pages of words, twists of words, explanations, dreams, pictures and a lot of him in it. I already feel like I know him, but this felt so great. Somehow handwritten words get to me so much more than the same words typed out on a keyboard. I am so greatful for this letter and what it says, I can not tell you. I read, reread and read it again. Thank you.

Holidays or not my life is pretty great right now. Not uncomplicated, but great. I get payed to do stuff I love to do. I have appreciative friends that I love and cherish. I have new friends kind of knocking on the door wanting to be part of my life, and I so welcome them. Right now Mandy is the one I particularly place in this category of new friends! I can't tell you how happy I am she liked what I sent her (see her blog for details) and I'm getting a shawl! I can't wait! I have found a forum online to write and express myself, and have others read it, and this means so much to me! I love blogging! And so much else seems to be going my way. In terms of lovelife, I guess I could have chosen an easier road than the one I’m on right now, but feelings seem to choose you and not the other way around.

I am so greatful for the feelings that have chosen me right now though, in many parts of my life. It’s not everyday I can say that I’m happy, without feeling I have to mention some of the bad stuff too just to balance it all up. I can today though.

Jeezus! This is becoming a very long entry… I don’t think I’ll go all the way to Z but finish it here. It’s a good way to finish I think, finding out that it feels good to say: I’m happy!

warning warning

"System failure imminent. Back up all your data."
said my computer.

I'm scared.
Anyway, this apparently means I need to return my almost new 200G disk and get a new one, and that I need to save as much as I can from it before it crashes.
I'm scared.
So, I'm only sporadically online for a while, but my abstinence for, first of all msn, is already severe, so I'll be back as soon as I can (Otherwise my phone bill will sky rocket). For now however, my computer at home is switched off, until I have the time and energy to attack and conquer my failing drive.
I'm leaving for Stockholm Wednesday, and for Barcelona the day after to celebrate my mother's birthday there. I'll be back in a week from that though. So I'll have a great week, however I already suffer the consequences from my severe computer and internet addiction.

weather

I love the smell of snow.

Francis Bacon

I went to this housewarming party / girls-night-in-dinner kind of thing yesterday night at this wonderful friend’s house. I’ll call her S. J and K were also there, and a little later L (who I don’t know so well) came.
The hostess got a big teddybear to cuddle as a housewarming gift, and a toy that would also help keep her warm, from me and J. And she and K also got their christmas gifts from me – finally. It turned out to be a regular “let’s give each other gifts and hug a lot” kind of party.
And I got a present too.
It’s said to be a late Christmas present from S, but I must admit I didn’t realise how amazing it was until after I had thought about it for a while. He was given to somebody else not too long ago, but this somebody else can’t take care of him anymore, so since I’m a pig myself (my online nickname “Ferkel” means piglet in german) S thought we would get along.

This is him. I call him Francis. Francis Bacon. He’s a pig with heatable wheat in his belly, so my nights will be less cold from now on.
Thank you S! I love him!

m ssing letter

I got a package today.

I don’t know how to begin to tell you how much it means to me to get such a package. The one who sent it, Spencer, has gotten very close to me, even if fate placed an ocean between us; it feels as if he’s so close. I’ve been smiling all day, because now I have physical proof of his existance and of his care.

My whole apartment smells from some wonderful coffee he sent me, and if you could write your blog using a pencil, I would use a silly, brightly colored one with the name Spencer on it. My mouth tastes from chocolate espresso beans that are so good (I’m having trouble not eating all of them at once, but then I wouldn’t sleep for a week).
And I got weird looks today at a café as I sat giggling in a corner, reading the book “So, You Want to Be Canadian?” (I’ve finally learnt how to pronounce the word toque).

However, the envelope said, on the customs specifications, that there was supposed to be a letter inside, but there was no letter. Apart from the address and a lovely little greeting written in the book, I’m at a loss for words; Your words, Spencer! Where did they go? Apparently all those words I long to read are still in Canada…

So even though my heart is pounding and I can’t wipe this smile off my face, I’m still waiting for more. First, I wait for the arrival of a lost letter. Second, I long for the arrival of a lost Canadian.
Come on over soon will ya’?

point of no return

There. It's done. Grammatical errors and spelling mistakes are now as eternal as if it was all engraved in stone. Or at least it's all sent to Canada. I make a note of it today, to know later how many days it took for it to arrive at Mandy's.

stalked

I just got an e-mail, not a blog comment mind you, but an e-mail, from a new reader of my blog. Apparently I'm good enough to attract new people here after having blogged only about 3 months, and not being an active part of any kind of blogging network yet. I am ever so flattered. Since I've had a sneak peek into the network of knitting bloggers, I have some idea about what a network like that might mean to a single little blogger. It's a metaphor for life really - the feeling of being part of something bigger. To matter in a bigger picture... Oh, sorry I'm going on and on here. Back to the e-mail I got. It freaked me out.

Someone wants to know what I look like, having read my blog and having seen only the tiny photo here to the right, he or she (I don't know which!) has formed an image of me and wants to know if he or she is right. What I want to say about the whole thing is this:

To ask for more of me, even pictures, in an anonymous e-mail seems not only quite stupid but also rather rude. I will probably post pictures of myself eventually, but not only to show off my great looks to my stalkers. I am happy people are reading my blog, but I still consider my blogging being self therapy as much as entertainment for the masses. So, there will be no pictures of me out of context posted here.

To serious blog readers with manners, I want to apologize if this rude person's behaviour has made me maybe more hesitant of posting pictures of me at all. I do hope that the ones of you who deserve getting to know me will do so in time.

Blog ya' later. /Lisa without photo

inspired

So, I thought it would take until the end of next week to finish this thingy for Mandy, but having had a very inspired day I finished it NOW. So watch out Canada - there is a package from Sweden arriving shortly (I'll send it Monday). I can't say anymore at the moment or I'll slip and reveal too much. It's supposed to be a secret and I suck at secrets. At least my own, about stuff I'm eager to share...

inspiration

Whenever I need inspiration to pick up a pen and draw, I sit and flip through the pages of the Bearskin Sketchbook. He has a totally different style than me, but the way he has used his sketchbook is fenomenal. And the layout of the webpage... wow. Take a look, but beware: You will probably be stuck in there for a while. It's that good.

troll

My mother is the editor in chief for this magazine and she called me yesterday to ask if I could help them with an idea. They wanted a little troll that will reappear in every issue with something smart or thoughtful to say about some current event... A little mascot with with opinions if you want. She specifically wanted a version of a little troll that appears in one of Astrid Lindgren's childrens books; specifically the one about Ronja the Robber's daughter. I came up with this little guy as a first sketch:

What do you think?

Oh, hello mister minister…

I want to tell you about my weird day yesterday, but I don’t know where to start. The story is too incredible to not start in an as incredible way, but since the day went from normal to insane, I guess this text sort of will too. I could start like this:

Yesterday was supposed to be a slow day in preparation for my meeting today. I went to meet my friend and architect colleague Jessica for coffee at 10 am. We ordered our coffee (my usual grande latte) but had but sat down when she apologized for having forgotten she had to be at our city museum at 11 o’clock for this presentation thing…

I could also start my blog entry like this:

In 2007 the famous Swedish biologist and botanist Carl von Linné (Linneaus) would have turned 300 years old, had men been able to live that long. In memory of, and using his famous name and the jubilee as a marketing gimmick, there are big wheels in motion about things that are going to happen in two years in the name of Linneaus and his birthday. Yesterday a new book about one of Linneaus’ disciples was presented at the city museum in Gothenburg. At the same time, they presented an exhibition project where a gazebo will travel the world containing an exhibition about Swedish science, research and the heritage of Carl von Linné. It just so happens that my friend Jessica has designed this gazebo, and I got to accompany her to this inauguration thing at the museum yesterday…

You see, this story has many different angles and weird twists and turns so I have to start from two different views at the same time not to loose you. I hope you’re with me so far.

As it turns out, this presentation was the first of many occasions in the next two years about the jubilee of Carl von Linné, and they took the chance to present the whole project of Sweden celebrating one of the biggest international superstars we have – a botanist who’s been dead for like 250 years. Don’t get me wrong though, I think it’s fascinating. He's big enough to be depicted on our 100 kronor bills for example:
But since I was only prepared for a couple of hours at a café with a friend I was let us say somewhat surprised to see our Minister for Culture and Education get up on stage to give the welcoming speech. He talked for an hour. Then a former Minister of Defence got up, and it turns out he’s the chairman of the committee organizing the different projects involved in the Linneaus jubilee. In the audience sat some famous historians, authors and other familiar faces in the A-list of the culture world in Sweden. I felt like a stowaway on a cruiseship, when all I had planned was a run around the bay in a canoe…

It gets worse.

After this inauguration and the presentations, Jessica and I had decided to go out for lunch to compensate for our lost hours of catching up at a café. However this man who had something to do with the gazebo project came running and said she had to come to lunch with them. We thought, either it’s the five persons in the gazebo group, or the entire lecture hall and that lunch was included in the program of the day, so she asked if she could bring me, and this man said that off course! He was counting on it. So I went with them.

We stepped into the museums restaurant, considered to be one of the best restaurants in town, and we met a table for about 20 people reserved for us. As I took my seat and was presented to the people around me I found myself sitting opposite a man who has the biggest private collection of Linné related stuff in the world. Next to me was a woman who is translating books about Linné to English. Diagonally opposite me the Minister for Culture and Education grabs a chair, and opposite him, two chairs away from Jessica, the former minister of Defense now Linnéus committee chairman.

The food was served and I get to eat a delicious fish dish with cod, and we’re served wine if we want it, red or white at our choice. However I’m not much for wine a Wednesday lunch, even if it's free, so I settled for mineral water.

So, in short, I went for coffee with a friend and ended up on a free luxury lunch with members of our government. What can I say – it was quite a day.

Mandy is sending people my blogs’ way and I’m thankful, so welcome new readers! And she’s right about comments making me want to write more. So go ahead!
I’m not posting frequently enough since I have this AND a Swedish blog… but I find writing in English both good for me and fun, so encourage me, and I’ll keep writing!

Claire Epson

Ok, lock me up in the insane asylum.
THIS and THIS is what happens when you provide me with a boring lecture and a pen.
Yes, I've inaugurated my scanner. It's now called Claire (surname Epson), though I didn't smash a bottle baptising her, nor did I pat her with water. I'm not that stupid yet.

[Barry Manilow songtitle here]

She makes me blush. Mandy (yes, that's the songtitle) just wrote in her wonderful blog about the deal we've made. She'll knit me this [insert about 10 synonyms to wonderful here] shawl, and I'll make her something artsy in return. But did she stop her paragraph about me there? No, not at all. She continues by calling me "a brilliant and incredibly interesting person" and says about what I'm making her that "whatever it is will not fail to be wonderful". What can I say? I'm blushing.

However, the "No pressure!" comment she added is of no help. This Mandy, who I still haven't met yet, can paint, knit and sow, each of which she does well enough to make a proffession out of it. Plus, the humour of this woman, her style (both hair, glasses and choice of words) and the bits and pieces S has told me about her, and the few words I've exchanged with her husband (who has a brilliant sense of humour too)... and then she calls me incredibly interesting before I've had the chance to dedicate a full blog entry to her (though she'll probably hate the Barry Manilow association). She has some nerve!

I've always wanted to be as good at knitting as she is, but so far I haven't ever bothered to work at it since the first fifty or so attempts have come out horrible. They're more knotted than knitted I'm afraid... But hey, how many talents is a girl supposed to have? I paint, I draw, I write, I speak different languages, I have an education, I have my own firm, I sing in a band... and I'm still single, so what's the use? (Kidding!)

Anyway, I think I've figured out what to make her, but if I'll succeed with my rep intact is yet to be seen. It's tough being a brilliant and incredibly interesting person, before you've even made anything, but I'll do my best Mandy, I promise. And thank you. If you didn't notice I'm childishly proud and honoured by your mentioning me (and recommending my blog! I'm scared to think there actually might be people reading this now!). It's a huge compliment!

To my new visitors I wish to remind you all that English is my second language, so be impressed, not disturbed by my errors. And I want to have a list of blogs and other pages I want to link to in a sidebar, but I'm still figuring out how to modify this template thingy...

Oh, and by the way, my scanner is plugged in and working now, so maybe I'll bother to insert some more of my doodling here soon.

stormy weather

The melancholy song of a big tree in the storm is an eerie, yet magical sound. Imagine putting a vacuum to the horn of a tuba, and you might get something similar. Yesterday I walked under the singing crown of an immense elm tree. I leaned against the wind feeling equally impressed with and scared of Mother Nature. She must have heard me being scared of her when she let the big elm shower me with twigs that had been ripped off 20 meters above me. I smiled, because she chose to tease me when I know so well she could have destroyed me.

In spite of the warnings about the storm on the radio I felt uncannily safe yesterday as I walked to town to meet J and M. I turned down the avenue and as the wind turned and twisted I struggled against it one second, just to dance along with it the next. In front of an impressive building from the last turn of century, one of the spherical lanterns by the entrance was smashed. Someone had tried to cover it with a black plastic bag and duct tape. But the bag couldn’t resist the wind’s invitations to dance. As I passed it struggled to break free from the last strap of tape as it made pirouettes in the swirls and twirls of air rushing past it. Then some raindrops found their way in to the remains of the broken lamp and it fizzed and whizzed sending miniature fireworks up to celebrate the bag’s escape.
Eventually I took refuge in a café to wait for my friends. Just outside three flagpoles bowed politely towards the avenue as if the royal family was passing them by. But one of the three had to be a republican, as it suddenly decided to bow no more and it snapped off at the base and leaned in a rather nonchalant manner towards the building behind it. Luckily it missed the windows.

As the firemen came to collect the republican flagpole I saw my friend J coming towards me struggling against the wind. Later M came and we proceeded to a place that served more substantial food than coffee. It still wasn’t as bad as the radio reports had claimed, we said to each other just as the light went out in the building across the street…

Eventually we went to the movies, keeping close to the walls walking there, since we were now afraid of crashing Christmas lights and roof tiles. But we made it to the theatre ok, and the power didn’t go out during the movie or anything, so we thought it couldn’t be so bad. Right?

After the movie, we stood outside discussing the plot for a while, when M points to the ground saying: “Wasn’t that up on the wall before?” The shards of a sign for a place called “Pasta & Panini”, where I often buy lunch, lies at our feet. As my mouth watered thinking about their vegetarian sandwiches, I looked further down the street. A smashed roof tile on the left side, the iron console of a sign trying to twist itself out of a brick wall… We looked at each other and agreed to head home.

The problem was there were no buses. They were cancelled “to ensure the drivers’ safety”. And the trams can’t run through the knee high water flooding one of the central squares, so they were cancelled too. So at the same time as the radio and TV told people to stay inside, J and I agreed to walk home.

The song of the trees had turned into a cacophony, and we counted five fallen trees (one was merely a bush, but one was really huge, so we agreed to say it was five all in all), five fallen or broken signs and two more flagpoles. The police had taped off a “safe area” around the flagpoles using their usual plastic tape. It probably seemed like a good idea at the time when they put it up, but we could do nothing but laugh at the twenty meters or so of plastic tape dancing and twisting all over the street, looking to whip the passers by, or at least make them trip over snaring their feet together.

We made it home okay, but reading the news today about the floods, seven dead people, huge glass facades fallen in or out, cars being crashed by falling trees, I feel lucky Mother Nature chose to just tease me…

aftermath

Ok, I’ve been trying to write this update forever now, in both Swedish and English, but it just won’t let itself be written. Why? Well, how do you balance my chaotic Christmas, calm and wonderful new years eve, my chaotic apartment to the tsunami disaster? You can’t. That’s why.

Thailand has become paradise for Swedish tourists the last few years, making Sweden the European country with the most victims. And since we’re not a big country, this turns out to be the worst natural disaster in our history too. A fact that is hard to take in, as so many more people are affected in the part of the world where it actually happened. There is not a single Swedish person who will not know somebody who knew somebody. Children are coming home without their parents. Parents are coming home without their children. And still, we feel ashamed we report so much about our own casualties, since it might look as if we don’t care about the rest, which is not the case.
Personally, I’m still not directly linked to any of the victims, but to be honest I’m just sitting here waiting for a familiar name from somewhere in my life to turn up in some list of missing persons. So far, I have heard three friends of friends’ stories, and I can’t write about that. It’s hard enough to dress cold facts in words. Don’t ask of me to express my emotions about this. I can’t.
One personal tragedy after the other in the headlines. In Sweden the media seems to ruthlessly look for scapegoats. Who did what wrong, and which minister should resign? As for me, I’d feel better if journalists, that manage to be so out of focus in a time of crisis, resigned. Why look for someone to blame before we’ve even understood how severe the situation is? Why interview people while still in shock after the loss of, in some cases, everything? Nothing good comes out of it.
I try to look at the few positives about this. Some parts of me feel grateful for the evidence of human kindness and cooperation that the aftermath of this disaster has shown.
As I don’t have a specific God to turn to, not being a very religious person, I realize what comfort a firm belief sometimes must offer. As for me, I turn to my friends to digest and understand this. And I'm thankful to know I have people who will be there if I myself find a familiar name in the all too long lists of names…


I’ll try again to write about my holidays, some other time.

portraits

This is amazing. I got this link from S. It's old photos from an Arkansas prison 1915 to 1937. As I scramble through the faces stories pop up in my head. What did he do? Why is that photo ripped to pieces? And who taped it back together? Did she kill her husband? Does his loved ones miss him? Is he innocent? I see lives in their eyes. It's weird how portraits of people really can speak to you sometimes.

leaving

"It's easier to leave than to be left behind. Leaving was never my problem..." I'm leaving in half an hour, though I feel like going back to sleep. I'll be back the 28th. Though right now I'd rather just stay here. I'm looking forward to seeing my mother in 6 hours though.
Merry Christmas.

grinchy

I’m leaving tomorrow morning. The ridiculously huge bags are packed. Clothes for a week, exams I have to correct, books, Christmas presents and a jar of newly made delicious fudge. The train will take me 800 kms north and I’ll spend Christmas with my family. So far so good. But… (isn’t there always a “but” about Christmas?) …I’m not looking forward to it. Well, no, that’s not true. I’m looking forward to parts of it. I’m looking forward to the look on my little cousin’s face when he opens his present, and the look on my mother’s face when she opens hers. I’m looking forward to some of the family’s recipes to be prepared and eaten, and to hugging my grandmother. But the rest, I can do without.

I don’t like traveling for two days to spend four days there. I don’t like celebrating Christmas three times in two days. First we’ll go to my uncle’s house and see my two little cousins (and they’re my godsons) and the new puppy, but since one of my little angels is autistic we can’t stay all day, and my grown up cousins are celebrating with their fiancées families… for Christmas eve there is just me, my mum, my aunt and my lovely little grandmother going back to my aunt’s for a quiet night of board games I think. Sometimes it is weird being an only child. Then, on Christmas Day I’m off to my father’s house. Off course I want to meet him and his wife and see my hometown again, but me “coming home” to my old hometown is complicated. I must admit it’s not all anticipation going home. There’s a healthy chunk of anxiety mixed in with that.

Anyway, it’ll be fine, and I’ll be fine, but right now I would almost rather curl up under a blanket, and not come out until after Christmas. That feeling will pass I’m sure, and I will have a nice Christmas, and me and my mother will have another magical midnight walk in the cold, quiet and white Christmas Eve and talk about nothing and everything…

I just found out S will be alone over Christmas and it breaks my heart. Isn't it just stupid that a silly little thing like the Atlantic Ocean should be able to come between him and me spending Christmas together? Don't you think? I'll be thinking of him though.

And I’m back in Gothenburg the 28th and I’ll tell you all about how it went. And then there is J coming home, and new years eve and a whole bunch of stuff to look forward to...

Merry Christmas my friends and remember that after all… it’s just a stupid holiday. Right?

reinstalled

I’ve badly needed to reinstall my computer for quite some time now. It’s finally done, but not without complications of course. I bought a new hard drive too, and I now have 200 wonderfully empty Gigabytes to fill with more words, images, music and more of me. I look forward to it. The biggest computer related problem I have left is reinstalling all the software. It turns out I’ve lost a couple of serial numbers, and I need help with the configurations for my homepage domain to be able to post stuff there. Plus, my guestbook on my website was hacked and all my friends who want to leave a message are joyfully greeted by the “kinky ass shit-“ (or something like that) –webpage. Wonderful…

On the bright side, all the complications have left me with a whole lot of new knowledge about computers and a better office pack than the one I had. And as Word is like an addiction, that feels good. Photoshop is working too and that’s a relief, since these (insert cursing) illustrations aren’t completely done yet. No, don’t get me wrong, I’ve enjoyed doing them, but creating on demand is tough.

What else? Well… S went AWOL on me. I didn’t hear anything for three days though I left like ten messages. I’ll probably embarrass him by writing about it here, but he deserves it. I was worried sick. He’s fine though, as I finally got hold of him this morning and seeing and hearing him again was wonderful! It felt as if someone lifted a very heavy stone off my chest, I’ve been so worried! I sure hope he gets that by now; that I care enough to worry. And S… will you please care enough to not give me any reason to worry like that. Thank you.
As I talked to him this morning I watched him open the Christmas gift I sent him, and it was appreciated. I’m glad. And the brown and white one was the best by far. And I’m sorry I didn’t make them myself Mandy… I’m just not as good at that as you are.

The happiest parts of my life right now are my friends. No doubt about it. Friends that call and care. Friends like Jch that lend me their scanner and spends a whole night making it work here. I am ever so grateful. It saved a lot of my mental health and time. And then there is the band – a new and very bright spot in my life.
And then there is my sister J. The 14th of December was the one year anniversary of mine and J’s friendship. I can’t believe it’s only been one year! And she sent me flowers! The card said “Happy anniversary babe” and I cried. That I have friends like that in my life... I’m lucky. I know.

This turns out to be a rather long post with mostly boring information for most of you. I’m sorry about that, but this is my life and my blog so… tough. I never promised I’d only write about love camels. I hope to post something happier soon though.

smorgasbord

The next Harry Potter movie will be a veritable smorgasbord (yes it is a Swedish word originally). Me and J will slide out of that movie theatre moaning. What is a girl supposed to do when she sees a cast like this: Gary Oldman (Sirius Black), Alan Rickman (prof. Snape), Ralph Fiennes (Lord Voldemort) and Jarvis Cocker as a member of the band Weird Sisters. And then there is Ron who doesn't want to tap dance for the spiders. Bring it ON!

christmas bliss(ter)

I wrapped some presents yesterday and they are beautiful! I use black paper and black string, but with the red wax seal holding a straw heart or star and a red label it looks festive and sofisticated at the same time. However, yesterday I managed to drip some wax on my finger and it hurts. The blister makes me think of bubble wrap, and it's hard not to pop it. I went to bed yesterday with a band aid holding an ice cube to my finger.
Anyway, I finished Douglas Coupland's "Hey Nostradamus" today and it's great. I'm buying another Coupland next time I see a book store.
Now, the candles are lit and Sunday Evening with the Sketch Pad has officially begun. I need to get these drawings done, though I hate creating stuff on demand.
Wish me luck!

love camel

I'm a singer in a little band. We have only rehearsed three times yet, but we already have a lot of fun. Our guitarrist is one of my best friends, but the other two I don't know all that well, yet. So yesterday we went out for a get-to-know-each-other-beer. We had so much fun! And our bass player taught me a new expression: Love Camel.

A love camel stores love and positive thinking and can draw strength from a compliment he or she heard days ago. A love camel builds a confidence of it's own from the simple fact that one should savour the positives and forget about the negatives. The last few years I've been something of a "love shark" - I hunt down the love and rip it to pieces, claiming that I enjoyed it. But then every loving thought is very short, and every negative thought is what I actually give myself time to digest. I will try and break this pattern and store som love in me.

I want to be a love camel.

bottled friendship

I found a bottle on my balcony yesterday, and inside it was a piece of paper, as if someone stranded on a desert island had managed to toss his or her cry for help all the way up there... But it wasn't from some cast away. It was a letter from a friend, and the contents was one of those messages that tell me that I have friends that really understand me. I am so thankful! How many of you get thoughtful letters thrown up onto your balconies?

ignorance

The ignorance of some people in this world really scares me. S gave me this link, and I wish it was a joke... though it isn't.

just a thought

I wonder what would happen if I let myself really fail once. Not just in my head, but for real. Just fall through all the cracks and just... not make it. I wonder who would be more disappointed in me; me or the rest of the world? I'm guessing me.
I'm sick of my high standards right now...