I don't suffer from insanity - I enjoy every minute of it!

According to the online translation site that I always use my "knäck" [kn:ek] is translated into "toffee". I don't like that. It's not toffee, because it's not really that chewie or dry, so I just translate it literally into "crack". Mostly for the fun of it. 'So what did you do today?' 'Oh, you know, just some crack in the kitchen'. Yeah, I know, someone told me earlier. I'm weird.

I hate fireworks. They're loud and stupid and I know that I'm still gonna stand there like a moron and go "oooh" and "aaah" at midnight. Suppose I'm a moron too.

Time to get ready for the party - let's make this year end with a boom!

Gimme, gimme, gimme...

1. Make him smile.
2. Make him agree with you.
3. Flatter him.
4. Give him something.
5. Take what you want and get out of there.

I borrowed this from a book and I've actually never tried it... I'll put it on my to-try-list for next year, I think.

stars

Something is wrong.

!

I AM THROUGH WITH THE APOLOGISING!

Morons everywhere.

There's a person on my roof. I have no idea why he's there, but apparently he's walking. On my roof. That's a bit weird.

When I got up this morning there were one ambulance and two police cars outside my window and the first thought that springs to mind is "what have I done now?". After realising that they're not here for me, I wondered if my house were on fire and looked around. "No, the apartment seems rather unharmed." So no fire. And not me. What a wonderful opportunity to combine curiousity with business - I need to buy food and I have to find out why there's so many people outside my window.
And here I am now. And there's a person on my roof. I've been on a roof once. It's not all that it's cracked up to be, really. Of course this was the roof of a house with only one floor - but you get the point, right?
Oh, new info - apparently the roofman was high as hell according to the ambulance people. Well, I suppose that explains it. Jeez... See - this is why I don't do drugs.

Exhale.

I've said it before and I'll say it again. I am shallow. Men usually get the blame for being shallow, but women are the same. I am almost 100% sure that every woman on the planet scan a new man and decide if she'd 'do him' within the first five seconds of their first meeting. Fine, the first ten seconds then.

January 23rd 2004:
"Imagine if you could change who you are. Change your whole persona and become someone else. Today that's actually not impossible. You can already get new fingerprints, new personal security number, change hair colour, eye colour etc. You can change your length, distort your voice or operate your face so that you don't look like yourself. Maybe you should take it one step further? Change your blood type or extraction. Or maybe you should just be happy with being the one you are? Happy about not being like everyone else without that extra something that makes you different? Do you really want to be perfect? I don't. I'm proud of my flaws. Even if I'm ashamed to admit it I would, if I had a child today, belong to the kind of poeple who would exclude certain possibilities. How would I exclude there? Well, with a certain kind of genetic engineering. It's possible to see, already before the baby is born, if it has some kind of damage, what gender it has, if it's more than one and so on... The question is only if you really want to know all this. Aren't you suppose to be surprised at birth and love your child no matter what it looks like?
Don't believe that I think genetic engineering is bad, because I don't - at least not in all areas. Research on stem cells that can help patients who suffer from haemophilia is very good, so is reasearch that helps people in suffering, for example HIV-infected. Research used to grow big tomatoes and other berries and vegetables does feel a bit pointless. So does cloning. I think you should let nature deal with that, like it does with for example potatoes, and not interfere.
No, let everything have its' due course. Although, you can change a little... Just a little..."

Did you know that it used to be fashionable to smoke? Doctors used to order 'a pack à day' - they even have commercials about it. That was about 70 years ago though. It's not really fashionable anymore. I think smoking is mostly seen as disgusting and a smoker is seen as someone who destroys him-/herself and the surroundings.
In the 16th century people used white powder on their faces. You've probably seen the pictures. Being pale showed that you were rich enough to stay out of the sun. Only workers got tanned. The white powder contained led, which was not only poisonous, but also irritated the skin and made it red. So what did they do? More white powder of course. I'm sure you laugh now, but think of all the people who have powder in their faces today. Oh sure 'it's tested', but you can never be sure. You can never know that in long-term it won't do damage.

January 28th 2006:
"I realised something when I brushed my teeth just now. People complain about today's ideals of the the 'beautiful person'; you're suppose to be tall, good-looking and have that extra special something. Reason number 1 to why people complain about this is that it's not a real ideal. Most people aren't tall, beautiful and grand and they don't have size 2 in clothes. The people who do are called 'models'. The thing about models are that they don't last very long in their business. Gotta be boring to be out after just a few years, well, if you don't become super-good. You know, get on covers, get booked for shows etc. etc. etc. into infinity. The fun thing about models are that it's the regular people who do something of them. Sure, they have to be 'discovered' by someone, but we're still the ones to decide. Let me take an example. Assume that an incredibly beautiful girl/boy walks somewhere. An agent sees this person and before she/he knows it, she/he is booked for a runway show and on the cover to a big fashion magazine's February number. Assume that the number sells incredibly bad. Bye bye model. With this I'm just trying to say, say - not defend, that today's regular people, you and me, really accept this sick, thin, strange ideal because we choose to buy the magazine. Did you know, by the way, that it in the old days was considered beautiful for a man to have a big stomache? It showed that he had welfare and wealth. If a woman had wide hips and break in the skin just where the stomache ends she was considered attractive, since it showed that she was good with producing babies. The world has come a long way since then some people say. I am not one of them.
/'New Maybelline Mascara - opens your eyes.' Yeah... maybe I should just stop closing them?"

Women shave everywhere and for who? Most of them claim that it's for themselves, but is it really? 'It's fresher without hair'. Says who? You? Why do you say that? The hair is there for a reason. A few thousand years ago you were completely covered in it. Would you have shaved yourself then too?

I suppose the only thing that never really got out of fashion are white teeth. A toothbrush and some toothpaste and I'm set for life. I think I'm gonna keep to that. That way I'll still be fashionable in a hundred years.

Bombshell.

No man, no madness

Though their sad power may prevail

Can possess, conquer, my country's heart

They rise to fail

She is eternal

Long before nations' lines were drawn

When no flags flew, when no armies stood

My land was born

And you ask me why I love her

Through wars, death and despair

She is the constant

We who don't care

And you wonder will I leave her -- but how?

I cross over borders but I'm still there now

How can I leave her?

Where would I start?

Let man's petty nations tear themselves apart

My land's only borders lie around my heart

Imagine standing on a scene in some country god forgot and just sing a number like this at the very top of your lungs.

You enter the stage and the audience is completely silent - you smell their expectation. The lights blind you, but the adrenaline is intoxicating and you don't really mind. The music starts and you start singing. While the song last it's all about the music. The tunes, the words, the feeling they bring to you.

I'd love to be in a musical. Of course, seeing as I can't sing so other people like it, being in a musical isn't really an option for me. Dancing is, I suppose, but I want it all. All or nothing - I've always been like that. Ah, and I suppose my extremely poor acting talents would keep me away too. I actually thought I was pretty good at acting and then in 2005 I saw myself in As You Like It. It wasn't good. It was rather painful to watch - but that might've been because it was me. (My English was great though, so I suppose that's always something.) Great or not, it was fun anyway and I did get the most pathetic part of them all - which was my only request. Hrm, I think I lost myself here...

Ah right - singing is fun! People really should do it more often. I'm gonna do it more often. I'm gonna end this year with one big fat ballad at the top of my lugns. Put the crystal away! My singing's here to stay!

Hedonism.

I just discovered a bruise. Right below my right knee. I can't really say it comes as a surprise to me seeing as I always tend to talk into something or drop things, but it doesn't hurt and it's kinda green. And I can't for the love of god remember what I've done to 'cause it. I'm sure more bruises will turn up when I take my yearly Christmas shower - they usually do. Sometimes I think I'm gonna end up like one of those women who always say "Oh no, I fell down the stairs, silly really", but in my case it'd actually be true. And then I would of course live with a man who everyone sees as a "bit violent - especially after drinking" and one day the neighbours would call the police because I'm screaming and the police would come and I would open the door and be full of bruises and nasty cuts and they would question my man, who would deny it of course, and then they'd question me "we had a call about domestic violence, m'am" and I'd deny everything of course because it just isn't true. I walked into the doorframe. That's why my eye is all blue and swollen. And the cut on my arm? I slipped with the knife. What? Why I'm limping? Well, you see, we have these rabbitholes in the backyard and I stepped in one of those and twisted my ancle. And the police would take the neighbours' word that "something ain't right in there" and take my man away. Then he'd be killed in jail since men who beat women don't last long in there and I'd be all alone. Of course... I would have a lot of money... and I can always put those eight kids in an orphanary... I'll get back to you on this.

It's Christmas Eve today! It's the big day here in Sweden - someone got it wrong ages ago so now the 24th is what it's all about. The 24th is also the day that a lot of people get their last Christmaspresents. Between you and me - I really understand why this is also that time of year when the suiciderate goes way up. The pressure, the darkness, the pain - I totally get it.
Anyway, for me Christmas isn't about gifts. It's about the food! Wonderful, glorious food filling a whole table and smelling and looking delicious. (I have a secret love for egg-halves, god knows why, but I just love them! Only at Christmas though - not really that fond of eggs anymore.) It's also about love and joy and even though this has been the worst year so far (karma better have something really good stored for me) I can still feel the spirit. The happiness is just... wow.

Now... where the fuck did I put that DVD I was suppose to give my sister...?

The art of being angry.

Ever been really angry? You know the cartoons where the blood boils inside and steam comes through the ears? Ever been that angry?
Did you know that being angry takes up at least twice as much energy and muscle work as being happy? I read that somewhere ages ago - I tend to read stuff and then just save them to use against people every now and then. Somehow you'd think that would stop people from being angry, but that's not really the case. When something annoys us by going against us, whether it's tasks or people, we respond by being annoyed. If the annoyance goes on long enough it usually ends in anger. Of course, there are also times when the annoyance is so strong in the beginning that it just starts with anger. A part of me wonders what would've happen if Hitler hadn't been refused by the painting school he wanted to attend. Maybe things would've turned out differently, maybe not. One can't help thinking that maybe that event triggered some anger that didn't come out the right way. Or maybe he was just a ball of pure evil. I'm loosing myself in my head now. Anyway...
I think it's really imortant to be angry. To be annoyed and then just keep it inside (I'm Swedish - it's what we do, remember?) won't help. It'll just build up and then you'll burst at the wrong people. I dwelled in anger yesterday. At 11am I was so pissed off that everything I said was through gritted teeth. Why? Some stupid little annoyance at 7:30am that just kept on building up. At 12:30 I started laughing really hard over a silly joke and once you've laughed like that it's hard to remember why you wanted to be angry.

In one of our Swedish newspapers there's usually a very strange article every day. We have it as our thing here at work to find the "article of today" and I thought I should share that with you - if nothing else it might bring you some joy for a minute or two.

Lifeless when it doesn't get attention, but hard and ready when you take it in your hand.
No, you're not at the wrong site. We're still talking stuff.
It's about the new Panasonic remote control in a gelmaterial that sort of gets "life" when touched.
Salvador Dali probably smiles in his heaven about this thing that pulses weakly where it's carelessly thrown over a book, shaped after the surface.

The idea to this concept remote is described as a try to "give life to every day items that are just dead when they're not used. We want to try and change the veiw of these lifeless items". And of course the thoughts wander to something completely different than a remote control when you take it in your hand. Then it's activated and the gelmaterial becomes hard.
The remote control has earlier been shown at the exhibition "Haptic" at The Lighthouse, the centre for architecture and design in Glasgow, Scotland, where it caught attention.
The question is only if it goes into production and in which stores it will be sold - at the tv-shops or where adult toys are sold.



I need one of these. Enough said.

the end

When you can't find the light,

that got you through the cloudy days,

when the stars ain't shinin bright,

you feel like you've lost your way,

when those candle lights of home,

burn so very far away,

well you got to let your soul shine,

just like my daddy used to say.

This has been the shittiest year in probably a decade. I mean, I've felt bad before but this year... It's like everything I've ever repressed or ignored or refused to think about hit me at the same time together with new feelings and emotions I've never felt before. Thank god there's only 17 days left of this year. I'm going to use these days to pull myself from the black hole of self-pity I'm currently in and just focus on feeling great. On being happy. And on dressing up my fake Christmas tree of course.

He used to say soulshine,

it's better than sunshine,

it's better than moonshine,

damn sure better than rain.

Hey now people don't mind,

we all get this way sometime,

got to let your soul shine,

shine till the break of day.

A friend told me that 'the hardest thing a human can experience is when the image of herself shatters' and I really think there's something to it. I started this year with a dream of the suburb and a house and kids and screams and that kinda went down the drain. It actually went so hard down that I stopped dreaming. Do you have any idea how hard it is to go on and not have a dream about the future? To hear 'so where do you see yourself in ten years?' and realise that you see a void.

So I went back to my usual dream, the stand-by dream that's always there for me. Write a book, get it published, win the Nobel Prize and then tell them to 'shove it'. It's such a good dream...

I grew up thinkin' that I had it made,

gonna make it on my own.

Life can take the strongest man,

make him feel so alone.

Now and then I feel a cold wind,

glowin' through my achin' bones,

I think back to what my daddy said,

he said boy, in the darkness before the dawn:

Let your soul shine,

it's better than sunshine,

it's better than moonshine,

damn sure better than rain.

Yeah now people don't mind,

we all get this way sometimes,

gotta let your soul shine,

shine till the break of day.

I am not stuck. This isn't how it's going to end. This is right here, right now and even though it's not where I saw myself five years ago, it still isn't that bad. I can get through this and I will get through this. I'm going to put all my effort in me now and start to actually care about what I want. My life will change but I will always have myself. I should think more about that.

Sometimes a man can feel this emptiness,

like a woman has robbed him of his very soul.

A woman too, God knows, she can feel like this.

And when your world seems cold,

you got to let your spirit take control.

I took a bath today. If I remember correctly it's the second bath I've taken since I moved in and probably the second or third in ten years time. (I stopped ages ago because the water got cold so quickly and a shower never gave me that problem.) That means that in 8 months and 19 days I've only used my green (yes, green) bathtub twice. (Might be three times, not completely sure.) Anyway... I filled the tub with hot water and then went in and started reading a book. Oh my fucking god, it was hard. I'm not used to just lying there doing nothing and it got so damn hot in the bathroom! The book was great though (just like the last two times I read it) and when it was finished I washed my hair and massaged my body with some weird white spongethingieball I got from work today. Maybe I should invest more in my bathroom. Make it more spa-friendly. Right now it's a green, built-in bathtub, white tiles about a metre and a half up the wall with a two-centimetre tile row that's green (I know!) and the rest of the wall is pink. No tiles, just pink. I mean, I like green but... It's not that pretty. I was thinking about making the bathtub black and the pink part of the wall white and then paint something on the wall, but I'm not sure. I might just keep the tub green and paint the pink white and then just do something green there instead to bind it together. Cheap and easy solution. My only problem now is that my work kinda damaged me a bit so what's green to others are two completely different greens to me. That means that the tub and the tiny-tiles aren't the same green colour. So should I go for the green tub-colour or the tile-colour? Or should I just make the whole room black and put a lightbulb on a string in the middle of the ceiling while I claim that 'it was like this when I found it'?

Let your soul shine,

it's better than sunshine,

it's better than moonshine,

damn sure better than rain.

Lord now people dont mind,

we all get this way sometimes,

gotta let your soul shine, shine till the break of day.

It's about positive thoughts. Posivite thoughts --> positive vibes --> good mood --> happiness --> easier to make good decisions. Ready? Okay. Starting... NOW!

Everyone is equal.

Sweden is an amazing country. It really is. We have freedom of speech, writing and human rights. For everyone. Everywhere. Even in jails. Isn't that wonderful?

The prison management invited children to appear before some of Sweden's worst pedophiles. After the passing of the Lucia train this Friday some of the interns said:
'I wish I had one of those.'
At 7am last Friday the lights went out in the dining area at Skogome prison at Hisingen in Gothenburgh.
The Lucia train consisted of girls between 15 and 17 years old. And in the audience were some of Swedens worst sex offenders, convicted pedophiles, rapists and murderes.

The Lucia train was arranged by a local organisation and the children have been practising on their performance all through the Autumn. The Lucia train appeared on several workplaces and they were invited to appear in the prison by the prison management.
Skogome prison is specialised to receive sexual criminals and the arrangement is now withstanding hard critisism from the employees.
'I think it's very strange that a child should appear for these men, one of them convicted for sexually assaulting and raping his daughter more than a thousand times', one employee says.
The train is an appreciated tradition among the interns, who are given the opportunity to drink alcoholfree glögg (mulled wine) and eat Lucia buns.
But several of the employees at the prison were upset over how the interns commented the children.
'When they were gone they started saying things like "how cute and pretty they were", "I wish I had one of those" and "how well developed they were", I was so upset I had to leave', one source says.
Even the organiser of the Lucia train experienced the athmosphere last Friday as frightening. Straight after the performance the alarm went off.
'It was something that happened in the cellblock, the gates were closed and we couldn't leave the prison. We had to wait in the car for at least ten minutes', one of the organisers says.
She has been a Lucia herself and performed at the prison as a child. This year her daughter performed.
'The girls don't exactly know what kind of interns who are imprisoned there, I haven't thought of it either', she says.
Last Friday's performance was the 35th in a row. But now it's over.
'This was the last time we appeared here, it doesn't feel right. The clients have changed with the years', another of the organisers says.

Afterwards one of the interns tried to commit suicide. The pedophile convicted man was saved by the staff.
A lot of people of the staff thinks the suicide is directly linked to the children's performance.
'Pedophilia is a very shamefilled crime and the Lucia train probably exposed a lot of feelings', the source says.

The executive chief for the correctional system, Anne Marie Dahlgren, doesn't see any problems with the performance. Is it really appropriate that children perform for people commited for assaults against children?
'One can think about that but even the interns have to experience something extraodrinary', Dahlgren says.

Sweden truly is amazing. We're making sure that even the people who commit crimes have a good life after their deeds are done. I'm almost getting tears in my eyes now. Oh, don't worry - I'm not going down the prison-lane today. I would, however, take this opportunity and just complain about how completely stupid people are. "Everyone is an idiot" is one of my guidelines in life and every time it's shown to be true I find myself surprised. I don't know why - I really should be used to it by now. So why complain? Well, the morons shut down more websites at work, so not only are we now not allowed to enter anything with "games", "jokes/entertainment", "adult/swimsuit", "religion/occult/spiritualism" and "social" - now I can't check a simple forum. I could this morning before breakfast (at 8:30am) but not after (at 9am). I feel loved. Yes, I can wait until I get home and yes, if there's work to do I shouldn't surf the web anyway, but what if there's nothing to do? Imagine a 10-hour shift and about 2 hours of efficient work time - that's 8 hours of nothing. Checking the news? Do you know how many times you can read the news before they get so dull you want to shoot yourself? About 3 times - if you stay within a country. So if you don't read incredibly slow or are extremely interested that's 7 hours to go. Boredom. Thank god I don't work evening this week.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot! The earthquake this morning didn't shake the whole fucking world, it didn't make paintings fall down, it didn't make windows shatter. It made a sound and made the windows in the roof shiver a bit. Everything else is a lie.

Colours! Wonderful, amazing colours.

Well, o.k. I still get stoned

I'm not the kind of girl you'd take home

I'm not interested in fashion. I don't care about modelling. Or makeup. Or clothes. And yet, I find myself staring at Make Me a Supermodel and Project Runway and Top Model. I read Vogue, Elle, Cosmopolitan, Vanity Fair... I know the names of designers and models and I know their specific traits. But I'm not interested in fashion. I don't follow trends. But somewhere along the way I do care about how I look. I didn't use to, but I kinda do now. I like to find out which shapes that work for me, which colour I look good in and how far you can actually go before people start staring at you (it's not that far here). Okay, so this entry is a bit shallow... but well, I don't really feel that deep, right now.

If it makes you happy

It can't be that bad

If it makes you happy

Then why the hell are you so sad

Evil spirits...?

Do you believe in exorcism? You know, the removal of evil spirits from a person with the help of a little faith? (Well, maybe not the deny the removal, but you know, the actual spirits taking over someone.)

Until today I didn't. Now I'm not really sure of what to think about it. The reason is that we heard a recording at work (http://listverse.com/bizarre/top-10-incredible-recordings/ - number 8) and after that it's hard to deny it. Seriously, it's creepy as hell - if you have even a hint of the X-files "there's something else out there" I suggest you skip it. If you're a strong critic - like I was - listen to it and then tell me it's fake and made-up. Of course I know that it can be fake (I'm not stupid), but the feeling when we heard it... Let's just say I'm glad I left the light on at home.

The art of lying.

When I was 18 (spring of 2003) I wrote an essay about lying as an assignment for school. It's incredibly silly so I thought it'd fit right in here. Don't go nag on me too much if there are loads of mistakes - it's translated from Swedish and it's very hard to translate your own work.

Thou shalt not lie

Since the beginning of time have mankind used the lie as a way to defend itself. The caveman probably used it when he came home without food to his wife and wife probably used it if she wasn’t home in the cave, when the husband came home from hunting, but somewhere else. (For example in the next cave…)
Today you might think that we should be further off than the cave, but if truth be told we are not a bit further than that. We still lie when we end up in situations where we do not want to, or cannot, tell the truth. You can easily say that we are not as developed as we think we are.

Personally I think lying is wrong in any form – big as small. I try not to lie and if I end up in a situation where I have to lie if I open my mouth I prefer to keep my mouth shut. A ‘little white lie’ might not lead to something worse, even if it has happened, but it is still a lie, just like a big lie.
They say that a big lie is easier to believe than a small one. This might sound strange but I think there is a lot to it. A big lie is often very hard to believe and therefore people think that it has to be true. Why would you lie about a thing like that?
My philosophy is that if you do not have anything good to say you might as well be quiet. People who lie I do not have any respect for, and if a friend cannot tell the truth then he or she is not a friend. But, you are probably thinking, a small lie is not that bad? No, it is not, but it is so easy to end up in the mythomania swamp if you start with small, innocent lies and that is why I prefer to tell the truth or be quiet.
But one can absolutely not forget the difference between mythomania and imagination. A mythoman is a person who lies unrestrained and does not mind to add extra to spice up something that actually is pretty down-to-earth. It can actually go so far that the mythoman starts believing his, or hers, own lies.
A person with a vivid imagination also spices up the stories but the difference is that he, or she, knows that it is all made-up and never claims it to be true.

Men have during all times wondered how their wives find out that they are cheating and I think the same thing goes for the women who have someone on the side. I can reveal two of the secrets.
When the man, or woman, come home late at night, or morning, their partner asks them where they have beem. The fault that most people do here is that they repeat the question; “Where I have been?”. This is a sign that the person did not expect being caught and cannot find a good excuse. There are also those who wash their hands or wet their lips unusually much when their partner ask the question. Also this is a clear sign that they’re lying.

If you want to be sure that your partner does not find out I suggest that you make up emergency lies. Remember that the more incredible the lie is, the bigger the chance is that your partner believes you. I mean, who many times have you not heard “but honey, I had to work late”. Noody believes it anymore since it is far too usual and far too obvious. Instead say something like “the boss took us all skydiving” and pray to the gods that your partner does not call and check with your boss. Or to make it even more safe say “the boss took us all skydiving and here is her/his number if you don’t believe me” and then give your partner the number to your best friend who of course is there for you. Or why not live dangerously; the number to your mistress?

If I have to be completely honest I do have a tiny ‘cheating system’ when it comes to lies. I prefer, as stated, not to lie and try not to, but in certain situations you have to open your mouth and then I prefer to ‘not tell the whole truth’. You remove some well chosen parts of the truth but do not add anything new. For example ‘I failed my test’ is ‘I did not do very well on my test’. This is true and I have not twisted the truth or lied.

There are those who say that ‘a liar must possess a good memory’ and that is very true. If the liar cannot remember what he, or she, uttered the chance is very big that the environment does and then he will reveal him- or herself.

Honesty is the best policy - remember that before you start lying.

Long live school assignments!

Je pense...

There is something very wrong with Titanic if you watch it in French...

...and it's a shame that Leonardo DiCaprio doesn't look like he did in that movie anymore...

...and that I don't know him...

...and that I'm this shallow, because let's face it - I'm sure Titanic would be great even if Leonardo didn't star in it. I'm sure there could be another actor who could make women all over the world faint every time they watch the scene where he draws Rose's picture...

I have to admit that he does look like a boy, but he was about 23 years old and seeing as I'm 24 now it's not that wrong... is it?

Someone once told me that I'm a romantic - can't say I agree, but I wouldn't mind switching places with Kate Winslet... Although... then I'd be at a ship about to sink and end up in freezing water and almost die. Yeah... Maybe I'll just let Leonardo stay in the movie and think of him every now and then.

Heartbroken, but not broken.

(Translation of the Swedish:
I will never get to see him again, watch him wave his tail, come running with a toy in his mouth. Never more. and it hurts so much inside. We were suppose to take care of him and protect him and now he's dead because we took the decision to put him down. I know that he's in a better place now, I know that, but saying it doesn't help. Because no matter where he is it isn't here and no with mom and dad. He won't come back. Never more. The thought of it makes me cry so much that it feels like my tears will never cease. I know that it will hurt less with time and that I won't see my beloved doggie get burned into ash in an oven, but now... Now that's all I see. My beloved doggie...)

Just before I go to sleep

There's a rendez-vous I keep

And, my darling, till we do

You are always in my heart.

No, there is no point in asking me if "I'm still sad about Rex" when I say I'm feeling down.

He was with me and my family from March 31st 1995 to November 27th 2008.

13 years and 7 months and 27 days.

All day, every day.
We lost a familymember. Don't get surprised that I'm "still sad".

I don't actually see the oven anymore. I don't get an image in my head about a veterinarian and a shot. I don't get images about my Rex, my king, drawing his final breath.
Now I get images of the puppy we got all those years ago. How I called my best friend up on 1st of April and told her that "I've got a dog!". How he got scared of lightning and hid under our laundry. Memories. Good memories. And still I keep crying. I don't really think they're tears of sadness, but I doubt that they're tears of happiness. Maybe just some form of acceptance-tears. It's hard, but I know that we gave him a good life. I know that he was happy. I know.

I watched puppies today on the web. The pain made me so certain that I would never get a dog again, and then I thought that just because I get another dog doesn't mean I will forget Rex or that he will mean less. So I started looking around and thought about a rottweiler girl. It would be a dog I really want and it would still be different. Then I saw the mixed breeds... and then I got into labradors and the second I saw those puppies I knew that there will probably never be another race for me. Of course I won't get a dog now, doggies deserve better than my work-hours and a 46sqm apartment, but it was nice to realise that even though it's painful to loose them, it's still worth it. All that joy and love and happiness. It is worth the pain.

Love is worth the pain.

breaking apart

My baby is dead. My beloved, wonderful baby is dead and won't come back to me.

Jag kommer aldrig få krama honom igen, se honom vifta på svansen, komma springande med en leksak i munnen. Aldrig mer. Och det gör så jävla ont inuti. Det var meningen att vi skulle ta hand om honom och skydda honom och nu är han död för att vi tog beslutet att avliva honom. Jag vet att han har det bättre nu, jag vet det, men det hjäper inte att säga det. För oavsett var han är så är det inte här och inte hos mamma och pappa. Han kommer inte tillbaka. Aldrig mer. Tanken på det får mig att gråta så mycket att det känns som tårarna aldrig kommer sluta rinna. Jag vet att det kommer göra mindre ont med tiden och att jag inte kommer se framför mig hur min älskade vovve blir bränd i en ugn till aska, men nu... Nu är det det enda jag ser. Min älskade vovve...

pain

I'm not asking for sympathy - I'm just clearing my head. (This entry is for our beloved dog who we have to put to sleep today. Long live Rex the Labrador.)

It's not hard to keep the tears away. It should be, but it's not. Maybe it will be harder when I get home and there's darkness and silence and I start thinking. I don't know.

I miss him of course, but since I moved away from home I haven't seen him very much so I guess I got used to the thought of not having him around.

Right now I'm split in two parts; one completely rational part who knows that this was the best for him and that he's in a place without suffering now, and another who gets tears in her eyes when she realises that she'll never be able to hug him again. Ever. That's a hard insight.

I celebrate his life, I don't mourn his death. Over these 13 years he brought me so much joy that I will always be thankful. He will still mean the world to me. Always.

It could've been worse...

Today I woke up at 11am. Not incredibly early, but it's about 8 hours after I went to sleep so I think it's quite alright. The weather could've been better (grey dull skies and rain), but you can't have everything and I did feel quite happy with the world anyway.
My mood changed when I was playing World of Warcraft this morning. A lot. A bit too much to just be a minor setback in the game. (My guess is that I'm probably gonna have the tinyband orchestra visiting me soon. Hooray!) So from being a quite cheerful and happy person I became quite angry and annoyed - taking a shower didn't help at all and I ended up going to work completely pissed off, and I couldn't for my life remember anything in "The art of being happy" which is a bit embarassing to be honest.
It's first now that it's blown off and that was because of http://listverse.com/crime/top-10-evil-serial-killers/ - it could've been worse. (I remember hearing about the guy in ninth place on the news - it's so nice to realise that I'm not as sick as I think after all.)

- - - - - - - - - -

I have to stop checking lists. http://listverse.com/crime/top-10-most-evil-women/ (I read a story about #1 last year I think - she was just... I almost threw up.)

Last year 13000 people died in their beds and only 200 on the trains. From now on I'm not going to sleep in my bed. The train is good enough for me.

I have a thing for quotes. It's like a deep, old crush that never really went away. I used to have a habit of quoting things so much that one of my friends told me to shut up because she really wasn't interested. Since then I don't do it - unless there's a situation that really requires on of course...
Anyway, here are some I really like - all said/stolen by Mark Twain.

• Always acknowledge a fault. This will throw those in authority off their guard and give you an opportunity to commit more. (The main reason I always admit my faults - well... that and the fact that there's no point in denying them anyway.)
• Be careful about reading health books. You may die of a misprint. (See - health and stuff is just a fag. DON'T LISTEN TO IT!)
• Clothes make the man. Naked people have little or no influence on society. (Hear hear - dirty nudists!)
• Don’t go around saying the world owes you a living. The world owes you nothing. It was here first.
• I have been through some terrible things in my life, some of which actually happened. (I'd never make a story up... ever...)

And of course the classic (which I never ever follow because it takes the fun away):

• It is better to keep your mouth closed and let people think you are a fool than to open it and remove all doubt.

The art of being happy.

Which would you say is your most typical feature about your appearance? I think mine is my smile. (Although I can't say other people would agree on that...) I love to smile and laugh and I actually get shocked if people don't smile back at me. You know those beefy security guards - they can smile. Except that one in Edinburgh in 2005... I'm still shaken to the core!

Happiness is great, but it's also incredibly over-rated. You can't be happy all the time and it's completely okay not to be (regardless of what everyone else say). It comes in periods and you need the downs to appreciate the ups.
When I feel down I usually try to cheer myself up by thinking about funny things. A really silly joke, a very stupid conversation I've had - I have a few silly convos saved on my cellphone for those boring bus journeys. Sitting on a bus and wanting to laugh out loud over something private is horrible, because the more you want to, the more you realise that you can't and the harder it is to keep the laughter inside. (Before you nag at me and say 'of course you can' remember that I'm Swedish and don't show emotions to other people.)
If I feel incredibly down and a silly joke doesn't do the trick I tend to watch a really cute love-story - I know - I'm the cliché; the woman who sits in sweatpants under her cover and eats chocolate and watch the fates of other men and women. If I don't feel like love stories I usually end up watching a really depressing movie. The more depressing the movie is the better, because I get a perspective of how great my life really is. If this doesn't work I usually just go to sleep and wait for next day. Waking up to a new day makes me happy. Don't get me wrong - I don't always wake up with a smile on my face, but 85% of the times I probably do. My alarm sounds like one of those really old alarmclocks they always caricature in cartoons - you know that old clock that jumps up and down when it rings - and a friend of mine wondered how I can wake up in the morning and not hate the whole world when an alarm like that goes off at 5:40am in the morning. A new day, new possibilities. (Euch, what a cliché. This whole entry is just full of them!)

It's been showed (in some study somewhere made by someone) that if you smile for four minutes you will feel happier. It feels incredily stupid, but you will notice the result.
It's also been shown (in some other study somewhere else) that people who sing along to music loudly are happier. So the next time you feel like shite - just put on some music to match the mood and sing along!

What I really think makes a difference between happy people (like me) and none-happy-people (murderers) is the following:

1. I don't kill people.
2. I eat properly.
3. I can see the fun in rain when everything else goes to hell.
4. I know that it will get better.
5. I have enough time to sit down and write all this crap whereas they just shoot people.

Yes I know, that list made no sense what so ever, but did you smile?

Fooza!

I started writing on my CV today and I realised that my working experience is extremely limited. Then again - they want me back again and again so I must be doing something right.
After checking some adds for jobs in languages I don't understand I started checking educations. I know what I want to do now and I know how to do it, but change is scary, so we'll see how it ends. At least I've started and I think that's a good first step. (Or was it third? I can't remember.)
I also got that Dutch for Beginners-thing I wanted. There's no way in hell that I'll ever be able to do it correctly, but at least I'll be like the Germans when they speak English and people will understand what I say. (If worst comes to worst I'll just smile and nod and then excuse myself very politely in English.)

How I ever managed to play World of Warcraft on a computer with 256mb ram and a 14" inch bubblescreen really is way beyond me.

Epiphany.

The problem is me.

Emotional overload...

My mind is spinning. It's spinning and I just can't get it to stop. Sometimes I wish I could just pull the head off and throw it away so it could spin somewhere else and not bother me. Not that I'm not used to it, because I am, but lately it seems to be spinning more than usual.
There's a sequence in one of the X-Men 2 where Brian Cox's character, William Stryker, tells Charles Xavier that his wife put a drill to her head in order to get rid of the images their son planted in her brain. It killed her of course, but at least she got rid of the images. It's a shame that wouldn't help me - you know, since I believe in reincarnation.

You know, sometimes when I look into a mirror I'm actually amazed of what I see there. It depends a lot on the mood, but lately I seem to like what I see even if the mind is spinning. I think I'm doing progress. Today I took out the trash and saw my reflection in the glass in the door and felt "I don't look that bad at all" - it felt great!

If I believed in psycology I'd find someone to talk to, but since I don't I'm just gonna deal with the spinning in my own way. You can't react to what you don't feel. I'll pull the emotions out next year and deal with them then.

My voice is poisoned

I'm not talking

My hearing is perfect

I'm not listening

I feel everything

I choose not to

and it's breaking me apart

Crackpotland.

You let me violate you

You let me desecrate you

You let me penetrate you

You let me complicate you

I broke apart my insides

I've got no soul to sell

The only thing that works for me

Help me get away from myself

I like crackpotland. It's a nice country. Inhabitants are happy and proud and they take matters into their own hands. They do what they have to do. I like to spend time here. I like to be happy and proud and I like to know that I'm capable of doing what needs to be done. I actually do have a plan with my life now. Step one is to sort it out. You know, pull my life together piece by piece and just sort it. So I checked driving schools. It went fine until I came to the pricelist and it somehow got very real. Not because of the money - that doesn't bother me - but just the whole thing with driving a car. I have no idea why it's freaking me out, but I just can't do it. It's like the diving-incident all over again. Creepy.
So I'm going to step two which I think is learning Dutch. Found a site with curse words and figured that as long as I know how to curse and greet people I'd be set for a while (http://www.youswear.com/ - not sure how reliable it is though). I already know 'dankjewel' which, even though I strongly believe so, does not mean the same as 'danskjävel' (Danish bastard), but 'thank you'. (Yes, I know - just weird.)
Step three would be to actually find out what I would like to work with. I mean, ink is nice and all, but I don't really feel like spending the rest of my life here. I suppose finding out which country I'd like to spend my days in would be in this step too.
The fourth and last step would be to sell my apartment and move to another country. Yeah... like that's ever gonna happen. It's usually most talk anyway.

You tear down my reason
It's your sex I can smell
You make me perfect
Help me become somebody else

I wonder what makes a person selfish. How long does it take to find out if someone is selfish or not? And do they know themselves? Are they actually aware of it? Hrm, maybe. Every now and then I wonder if I'm a selfish person. I don't really think I am. I think I care too much about how others feel to be selfish. That might just be me though. I might be selfish without knowing. Be a doll and tell me then, will you? (I know - I just wanted to use that expression.) Saves us both a lot of trouble. Then again... they say 'bad girls suck, good girls swallow' - I don't do either. Maybe I am selfish.

Through every forest
Above the trees
Within my stomach
Scraped off my knees
I drink the honey, inside your hive...
You are the reason I stay alive...

My life isn't bad. It's actually pretty damn good. But I know how to make it even better. Crackpotland is great!

Random thoughts.

I love languages. I really do love them; the way you write, speak, think. I love the fact that everyone speak their language in the same way even though they don't speak the same language. People in the UK speak English the way I speak Swedish and if I start speaking English they will understand what I say. The same goes for other languages as well of course - I think that's why I'm so keen on learning new ones. I love the thought of being able to speak to everyone in their own language. Not that I speak to people though, but you know, if opportunity should arise.


You know, I've made some really bad decisions during my 24 years of walking this earth. Really, really bad. But starting to play World of Warcraft might be one of the dumbest decisions ever. The way that game can take over your life is just... creepy. It makes you spend hours in front of the computer screen, speak to people you would never have met otherwise, laugh while sitting in a room all alone. See - creepy. I just want to make this clear to everyone as time is ticking for the release of the expansion. You know, when I'll once again sit alone and laugh and spend hours and hours in front of the computer screen.


I'm chopping Cousin It next week. It's just his time to go.

Nice and slow.

I love neighbours. They have to be the best invention ever! I mean, is there anything better than not having to waste energy and electricity by putting on music when they do it for you?
If this apartment didn't have such a good location and such a low rent I'd move. Out in the woods where no one would ever bother me. Except all the cute little animals. And the dwarfs. Oh wait, that's Snowhite...

Time to celebrate the post-birthday. Hooray! I love opening presents because there is so much in the world that I need and can't get myself. Okay, this is getting too bitter - fucking neighbours.

Yawn.

It's now 3:39am, I've been awake since about 2am and there's no reason for me to go back to sleep seeing as I have to get up again in two hours to get to work. Then again, I shouldn't be whining - I fell asleep at 7:30pm in front of my TV (just like that proper factory worker does) and it was gooood...
I have no idea what I'm going to do now though - might start writing my CV, I don't have one at the moment. Or I might start checking options for another job in another country. Or I might just have breakfast and watch the Simpsons. I think that would be good too...

Come fly with me, let's fly, let's fly away...

Nothing else got fucked up. Well, there was the incident with the trainticket machine who didn't really like my card, but that got solved when I went to the train information.
Something I've learned while polluting the air as much as I do is that even if you get a really cheap flight there will always be some sort of catch. An airport away from the city (not that the airplane should land in the city), uncomfortable times, double taxes... Hrm, I think I'm a bit of a snob when it comes to flying. Then again, after a few times you realise that even if you get a really good price you'll loose it in time.
KLM is a really good company. Overpriced as hell, but good. SAS are good too, but too unreliable with all the strikes they have every now and then. Easyjet are cheap, but have uncomfortable times and land outside the city. Ryanair isn't really on my good list - they're not bad, they're just not that good. British Airways are the best without competition. Shame I'm not a businessman and can afford their insane ticket prices.

The Netherlands is a fun country. It looks pretty much like the Sweden I'm used to, they drive on the right side of the road and the language is insane, but really cool to listen to. (I know, I'm just too obsessed.) They don't take of their shoes though. They walk straight into the homes with their shoes on. Apparently they "don't want sweaty footprints all over the floor", which, I suppose, is a fair reason, but is dirt from outside better?
It's probably just me. I'm used to taking my shoes off so I do it. Then again, here you usually do take your shoes off - not sure why though... Might be because we want to show of our socks...

H o o r a y ! ! !

I had so many plans for today. Do some shopping and get Simpsons season 11 (special edition of course), have breakfast, do some laundry and some packing.
Instead my day starts with getting an sms at 7:40am from a friend with the text "please tell me you didn't book your flight with Sterling". If I work eve-shift I'm not awake at 7:40am normally. I checked my phone, read the message and thought 'fuck, they're going on a strike - I should check it. Ah, sod it - I'll do it later'.
I woke up again at 11:30am because the phone rang and then I realised I had to answer and I also had to check this Sterling-thing. Bankruptcy. Hooray. And I was about to fly to the Netherlands tomorrow. Amazing. Wonderful way to wake up in the morning. Anyway, I did my shopping (even if I didn't find the Simpsons' box) and then I went home to sort my tickets. Not to honk my own horn here or anything - but in about an hour I had new tickets and information about how to get my money back. I'm still a bit annoyed by the whole thing - the lack of information mostly, this can't have come as a shock to the management. I got my tickets about a week ago - did they not know?!
Anyway, to make this boring story short - I only did my shopping. Half of it. My breakfast was crackers my co-workers gave me. My laundry is still unwashed and I have to pack tonight. All because I want to get away for my birthday. Right now I'm just waiting to see what else will fuck up. Not that I'm negative in any way - just because I know that crap stuff never happens alone. (Yes, I know - I'm pushing it.)

Sunshine and daisies.

"January 27th 2006 9:53pm:
Have you ever had an anxiety attack? Imagine in that case that you don't know why it happens to you and that no one you know get anything like it. None of your friends have insane sleeping disorders, they don't make their stomaches hurt, they don't have trouble breathing. Imagine that you've had the attacks since you were about 14 years old and that you're 21 now. That's 7 years. When you're 18 you study psychology because you find it interesting and realise that you're having anxiety attacks. Not that the knowledge makes it better or worse, but it's quite nice to see what happens to you written down in a book. You get some clean months and then you can't take it anymore so you speak to someone to find out if you're insane. You're not. You're not alone either. You're just empathic. A lot of compassion. You leave and feel that now when you know what it means and why it happens you'll get rid of it. Yes, I thought so too. Then I realised that you'll never be free from it - you just have to choose how you want to live your life. You have to choose what you watch on TV, read in books and magazines, hear from others. The positive thing about this is that you know how to prevent it. The negative is that if you, like I did yesterday, push an attack away it'll still bubble. It feels like there are rocks in my stomache that pulls all of me down and why? Because I saw a movie yesterday. A movie, that, even if it's inspired by reality, still is made-up. I knew that I shouldn't have seen it, I knew it, but I really wanted to because I thought it was interesting. Now I only have myself to blame. That's probably the worst part. You can't be curious because it'll come back to you in such a way that you wish you were dead."

I think I grew out of this as well. Either that or I just keep myself awake too long to care about anything but sleep...

Insanity

I like colour. Red, green, yellow, you name it. I'm one of those people who enter a shop and see a sweater they like and buy it. Then realise that the sweater comes in 4 other colours and of course get one of each colour. Why? Because I like to wear jeans and a t-shirt and since no one ever looks at the jeans you can always pretend you have a new outfit.
Another thing I really love about colour is that you'll always have something to match the mood. If you feel depressed and want to be that for a while - go black. If you feel boring - go grey. If you're happy - go yellow. Personally I like to go for one specific colour every now and then - all grey, all green, all blue. Never all black though - I need another colour to break off then, otherwise it just gets too depressing.
My absolute favourite colour is green - all kinds of green - and I love to wear it. But when I feel a bit down I put on something red. Why? Because with red you just can't be blue.

People see what they want to see.

Every now and then I like to claim that "I live in a bubble". It usually comes up when I encounter something I didn't know about, but also when there's something I don't want to know.
Everywhere in the world there are problems and pain, but people choose to look the other way. They watch the news and they feel bad, so incredibly sad it almost hurts, for those poor people who have to run from their homes, who see their loved ones being brutally murdered, who experience wars first hand. They sit in front of their television sets, in their comfy sofas and feel bad for not being able to do anything. Then they switch the channel and laugh at some silly entertainment show. Soon they forget all about wars. All about pain. All about misery and death. But for the minutes the war report lasts they can feel it. Never like the people in it, of course, but somewhere in the back of their heads they start wondering what it'd be like to have to run from your home, flee your country, watch your family get raped, tortured and murdered. All because you're different. All because you got in the way of a conflict between people you don't know. All because you believe in something else. For a few minutes.

I know. I'm on of them. I live in a bubble. If there's something I don't want to see, I simply switch the channel.

Nothing is what it seems to be.

Found some entries I wrote five years ago when I went through some stuff. It's kinda cute how the thought of homeworks and a long day at school makes you go "AAAAAAAAAAAA!". For some reason I thought I was the same person as then, but when I read through some of them I realised that I probably just look the same. Or maybe the things that meant so much back then means so little now... Maybe I just grew up somewhere along the way without really noticing it myself... I think I've become more serious over these years. I suppose that's what happens when you grow up. Things become funny in a different way, annoying in another way and I can't remember how it used to be. Maybe I'm just having a down-day. Maybe I am less serious normally. Or maybe I'll end up not understanding these entries in ten years time...

Go with the flow...

This week I made the sugarvow. Again. It's a really good thing - no sugar in form of candy, soda or other unnecessary stuff. The abstinense is painful as hell, but once you get past that point you really notice the difference. That is of course if you get past it. If the smalltownband orchestra doesn't come to visit you. Haven't seen them for a while, but they dropped by yesterday and are still rumming around in my stomache. Ah well, only shows I'm 'normal' I suppose. Since I'm training up my boundaries when it comes to certain subjects I'm not going into too much information. (I know, it hurts inside.)

Gonna meet Bubbles tomorrow and show him around Copenhagen. I hope it doesn't rain too much - I love rain, but I love it more if I'm inside than out in it. (He still sees me as a nice person. Poor poor Bubbles.)

I have tickets to Depeche Mode. I am happy. My intestines are made of cells. I am not a robot.

Anyway... I'm going with the flow now. It's easier.

Shatter.

I used to wonder how it'd feel to loose someone I love. Why the people in the movies yelled 'NOOOOOOO!' and then just dropped wherever they stood. Why not sit on a bench or a chair or at least somewhere that's a bit cleaner than the ground? I got a first-hand lesson in that myself this year. I suppose I should be grateful, I always want to know more about things. You see, when you sit on the ground, you can't get any further down. It's quite reassuring to know that you actually can't sink any deeper. A chair can break, a bench can fall apart, but the ground will be where it is.

He tried to make his feelings for me dead for him. It's a shame that he in the process made my feelings for him fade and disappear. What's left are the memories of the feelings I once had. I don't remember what he looks like. I don't remember his smile. I don't remember his voice. He honestly doesn't mean anything to me anymore. The memories will never fade, but they don't affect me anymore. I have moved on.

Love is an illusion. It's up to us if we want to believe the illusion or not.

Everywhere all the time.

You know, there are some things I really like to do. Enjoy the sunlight, read a book, watch a really depressing movie... and of course - annoy people. Seriously, it really is a lot of fun to watch someone go from a sane reasoning person to a screaming, steaming pile of anger.
When I went to high school I had a teacher in biology who not only had a thing for fruit flies, but also had a certain liking to me. Apparently the flies 'are fascinating because you can observe several generations over just a few weeks' and his graduation project was about this amazing species only he 'had blind females and males without wings so there was no mating there'. Why do I still remember this 4 years later? Well, mainly because you really can't forget a guy like that and mainly because he kept going on about this flies for ages. I keep wondering if I got my A because I actually was really good (I have a thing for biology) or because he liked me more than he should... smth tells me it's the second reason.
Anyway... I kept annoying him by trashtalking down pretty much anything he said - well, not really trashtalking... more like questioning it... Just a tip - if you're at the museum watching dinosaurs with your biology teacher and you're a bit bored... just claim that the dinosaurs are made up figments of imagination and that the skeletons are made of plastic. I got so many peeps on me for that comment, but I stand by it. Have you ever seen a live dinosaur? No? Oh, I wonder why. Yes, of course I know they died out by starvation, heat or that meteor crash but seriously, don't you think it's a teeny tiny bit odd? These really big things have walked this planet and then 'poof!' gone. I believe more in Adam&Eve and the Garden of Eden than I believe this crap. (Not appreciated either I can tell you. Especially not if you study science.)
Now, before you go mental and tell me that I'm the most ignorant person to ever walk this planet - I know that birds are remnants from dinosaurs, I'm well aware that humans used to climb trees and I know about the 'Big Bang'. I just choose to disagree with it. Why? Because the look on people's faces when I tell them 'Big Bang never happened - Adam&Eve is just as true' is priceless!

Paranoid.

Why is it that you're very certain of some things and very uncertain about others? Why do you listen to that little voice in the back of the head who always tells you that you're never good enough? No matter what other people tell you, you just can't believe it. It sort of feels like they've all spoken to each other and agreed to tell you the same things. It's probably true what they say because why else would they say it, but somehow it's just not believable.
I'm probably just stupid who listen to the voice. I actually thought I'd manage to press it so deep down it'd never come back. Guess I was wrong. The thoughts are always there... lingering... waiting...

I'm a happy person. I'm a funny person. I'm a smart person. I'm a lonely person. I don't want to be in love. I don't want to loose myself. I don't want to hurt him. I don't want him to hurt me. I don't want the voice in my head who tells me I will never be good enough...

No wonder I get tics.

8:33am... I have get away from here or I'm gonna hurt someone soon.

Sun is shining... how nice...

I like to see myself as a nice, understanding, peaceloving person. I think I'm fairly reasonable. It takes a fair amount to piss me off... but there is something that really makes me angry and that is being woken up. Don't get me wrong - it depends on the reason of course, but if I'm set on sleeping and someone wakes me up... Let's just say I'm not 'sunshine and daisies'.
My neighbours played music at 2am. That didn't make me happy. I didn't wake up happy at that hour. Neither did they open when I marched over there (in the best warriorette-style) and pressed the door bell. I want to move away. Either that or burn down their apartment - somehow I think me moving is more welcome by people.

Muchos lovos and such - I don't hate you.

My body is a temple.

Sometimes I wonder what it actually is I like about my job. The testing itself isn't very challenging (exceptions are made of course), mostly it's just repeating the process again and again. So why do I get up at 5:42am and don't dread another boring day at work? Well, because I work with H&H of course. (And a teeny bit because I know that next week I'll be able to sleep longer.)
Usually our discussions are a bit odd - these are a few from yesterday.

Discussion about food at dinner with the guys from the storage department:
Storage guy to H2: 'Aren't you gonna eat the cornichons?'
H2: 'No, that's bunnyfood.'
Storage guy: 'Ah, yes, of course, we can't eat their food.'
H2: 'No, because then they'll die.'
Me: 'What's so bad about that?'
H2: 'They have a right to live, hop around, be cute, do chicken races across the roads...'

Discussion after dinner about bananas:
Me: 'I've already taken the top - the best is there.'
H2: 'I've heard that everything fun goes on at the top... Apparently it's often white there as well...'

Weightdiscussion:
Me: 'I mean if you look at me you can see that I'm not made to weigh any more.'
H2: 'You're like an astronaut.'
Me: 'Astronaut? Aren't they suppose to weigh anything either?'
H2 shrugs questionally.
Me: 'You're making stuff up!'
H2: 'Yes.'

This morning - special discussion:
Me: 'H2 - peeps who read this are gonna think that you're a very special person...'
H2: 'But I am a very special person.'
H1: 'Yes you are, I think so too.'

If you ever wonder why I am the way that I am... you can stop right now.

Yesterday I fell asleep at 7pm... it was gooood...

Blue sky.

Hrm, I kinda forgot how it was when my brain and fingers took over my entries. I was suppose to write about the dangers about eating disorders yesterday and tell about pro-sites on the web, and I had it all nice and structured in my head. Ah well, Fate works in mysterious ways, I suppose.

People are weird. You can be friends with them for years and then all of a sudden it just doesn't work anymore. Everything that was great is just annoying and everything they say makes you want to kill them.
I wonder why it's so hard to cut of the people you used to call 'friends'. Why do you keep on living in the 'it used to be...'? And why does it usually take to long to realise that the people who once made you feel so good now make you feel so bad?

I should clean my life more often - it really is underestimated.

Why is "my, you're skinny!" okay when "my, you're fat!" isn't?

Anorexia.

Bulimia.

Extreme Dieting.

Pro Anorexia.

Pro Bulimia.

Starvation.

You read about it in the newspaper, you hear about it on the news, you know what it is. But do you actually understand it? Do you know what it's like to look in the mirror and not like what you see? To feel that you are "too fat" and "need to loose weight" even though you look like a walking skeleton to others?

Anorexia Nervosa is a mental illness caused by bad thoughts.

Bulimia Nervosa is a mental illness caused by bad thoughts.

Extreme Dieting is a fancier description of literally trying to kill yourself by preventing yourself from eating.

Ever felt an urge to run after you've been eating? What if you haven't been eating? Ever carried weights in your clothes to appear heavier if you weigh yourself? Hrm, you might want to check that...

How about throwing up? Ever done that on purpose? You know, with fingers, laxatives, ipecac? After a meal? Have a hard time keeping it down after eating? Feel that it's okay to binge-eat if you get it out of your system afterwards? Ouchie...

Ever looked at a cord and wondered if it's possible to scrape your throat with it? To get wounds in there would surely prevent you from eating! Or you could always eat cotton - that outta stop those feelings of hunger! (Just make sure you don't suffocate from them getting stuck in your throat.) You know, if worst comes to worst - there's always bloodletting. Who needs blood anyway, right?

Starvation as a mental illness isn't about looks. It's about feelings. Since your thoughts control you, you decide to control your intake of food. It's a shame you don't realise that the thoughts control that too. You don't control anything when you stop eating like that. The mental illness controls you. No matter where you go it will still control you so to quote someone - "friends in need are friends indeed". Think about it.

Bring it on!

Have I ever told you about my neighbours? No? Yeah? Make up your mind! Ah well, here it comes anyway.
A month or so ago the neighbours on one side started to play music quite loud. It's alright in the afternoon or on a Friday eve, but not at the evenings or nights. Anyway, to the point - the music in question is RnB and I kinda don't like that. I've asked them to turn it down once - got no responce what so ever, not sure if they heard (I stood on my balcony and they on theirs) or if they just ignored me. I also went over there once (it was midnight on a Sunday-Monday), completely furious and I clearly heard them in there. No one opened once I pressed the doorbell. The music stopped though.
The thing is - it was a really nice couple who lived there when I moved in about 6 months ago and I haven't seen anyone move either in nor out. I kinda wonder if they're illegal immigrants or something... Where was I? Oh right!
Today they started again and seeing as I've only slept three hours and are a bit... "easily annoyed" I decided that no, not today. (More the mental chain of "is that...? Yes, it is. *deep breath* I've had enough" and then some very ugly Swedish words, suppose they are like "now you motherfuckers!!!" or something.) So I decided to declare war... You know that kind of psychological war girls do best. I pulled out my yoga-rug (yes I know, it's green), turned my speakers towards their wall and put on Robbie Williams Live-dvd. 3 songs passed and then I stopped with the fake-yoga-workout-crap and turned it down. Hrm... wonder why the neighbours are all quiet...?

Conversation of the Day:
Me to one of my male co-workers completely out of the blue: "I look like a doll compared to you, I'm much shorter. Then again... you could be Ken... He doesn't have a dick either."

Same male co-worker to me in a later discussion: "Sex is a bit like fishing. Say I love fishing, then I want everyone else to understand how great it is." (Yeah I know - it didn't work out in his head either.)

Dirty angel.

When you try your best but you don't succeed

When you get what you want but not what you need

When you feel so tired but you can't sleep

Stuck in reverse.

And the tears come streaming down your face

When you lose something you can't replace

When you love someone but it goes to waste

Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home

And ignite your bones

And I will try to fix you

And high up above or down below

When you're too in love to let it go

But if you never try you'll never know

"Just what your worth"

Lights will guide you home

And ignite your bones

And I will try to fix you

Tears stream, down on your face

When you lose something you cannot replace

Tears stream down your face and I...

Tears stream, down on your face

I promise you I will learn from my mistakes

Tears stream down your face and I...

Lights will guide you home

And ignite your bones

And I will try to fix you

Sometimes you almost believe it. The fairy tale. It's a shame the story-writers never tell you about what's gonna happen when the illusion shatters. The tears. The pain. The hate.

People call me negative but I kinda like my vision of being a 90-year old dried up woman living in a wooden cabin with a bunch of cats. I think I'd be able to pull of the whole "crazy cat-lady"-illusion rather well, don't you think?