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!