Go on! Give it to me!

I'm hungry and I have a need for salt. God knows why since I hardly put salt on anything, but the last few days I've really had a craving for it. Now I can really taste that pizza with meat and crusty bread. I never have meat on my pizza. Maybe it's just a combo of eating too badly and not eating enough - that'd explain things. Or maybe it's the heat that makes my body need more salt - I'm not really clear over how that works. One thing is certain though - I eat a lot less when it's warm outside and I really shouldn't. I think that's why I've gained weight aswell - starvation and not proper weightgain. Oh well, "the one who lives will see" like my sister always says.

"Close your eyes and just dance."

I was drunk yesterday, and I've never walked better in high heeled shoes. Of course, I never walk in high heeled shoes so being better isn't exactly that hard, but it got considerably easier once I was swaying a little. Or as my friend said at the start of the evening "pretend you're drunk and it'll look less like you've shitten your pants". It worked.
You know... if you drink more than a litre of beer, then a bus-ride home can be a bit... annoying. In my case I had to stay completely awake and not close my eyes ("focus on smth - FOCUS!") - otherwise I would've thrown up. I made it all the way home. Hooray for me.

Is hungover a headache and general bad feelings? Because then I don't think I have it. Or is it being slow and a bit strange? Because then I might be having that.

borderline

"'The King is dead!
Long live the King!'

'He's either living or dead - make up your minds!'"

That's what I read yesterday in one of my old Donald Duck comics. It seems quite accurate today since the King of Pop (and later scandals) has joined Elvis and Hitler in *uses a creepy voice* the beyooooond.

I've slept about 25 hours in total this workweek. It might seem like quite a lot, but if you take into consideration that about 87 hours have passed in total it's not enough. Seeing it in numbers like this makes me realise that the human being needs way too much sleep.

How can people forget to drop their kids off at kindergarden and just go to work while the kids stay in the car? Seriously, how can people forget?! "I'm so sorry, I was late for work" or what? You know, maybe it's just me, but there's a reason I don't get kids. I'm way too into myself at the moment to have love and care for someone else and it feels great! Of course, if I did get knocked up and popped out a child or five then I WOULDN'T FORGET THEM IN MY CAR! People are idiots.

flowerpot

What really amazes me with Ace of Base is that they still manage to sound really bad. Horrible singing, boring lyrics and a really dull sound. Of course - they were really big in the early 90's and of course I was a fan (even though I didn't have any of their cd's) so I suppose I shouldn't complain. But my god all their songs sound exactly alike.

Happiness is finding an article about a sect in my newspaper. Sheer happiness is realising that they're running a series of articles about this sect. Breakfast has never been more interesting.

ohne mich

I deserve an award. I deserve to be showered with roses. I deserve to be so filthy rich that I can have my whole driveway full of different Koenigsegg models. Why do I deserve all this? Well... this morning I've been doing other people's jobs and I've done it fairly well.
Of course I won't get my award, roses or cars. I'll get a "thank you" and then my amazing skills will be forgotten until the next time something fucks up and people start yelling at each other.
H2 started a monologue about how this kind of paperwork isn't our job and I told him, quite pissed of the whole thing, "imagine someone telling me off about this". I'm not scary, I'm not terrifying and there's not a chance in hell that I can make people quiver from fear - but I think that even the most cold-hearted person would take a step back if he or she started yelling at me and wanted this done. (I had to promise H2 I'd call him so he could hear it if he wasn't present.)

It's almost dinnertime. I deserve that aswell. Flowers are pretty, but food is orgasmic.

teeny tiny world of mine

When I was about eight or nine we planted sunflowers in a pot at school. Most of the others killed their plants, but somehow mine managed to stay alive - so I took it home and planted it in our garden. It continued to grow there. And grow. And then it grew some more. I think it was about two or three metres tall when we had it cut down. There a picture of me somewhere at home where I stand next to it - I think I was about 1,30mts or something at that time and it's HUGE! I kind of miss that sunflower, but I haven't really thought about it until today. Maybe I'll plant a new one on my balcony. It'd at least brighten it quite a lot.

magic

You know, there might not be a lot of water in a normalsized glass, but when that water is somewhere else than in the glass - then it's a lot. I realised this just now when I knocked over my glass and the water spread over my stove and down to the floor. It's a lot of water.

I have a "to-do-list", but I never really follow it. At the top of it now is "getting my sister a gps" and before you start nagging at me that she can damn well get her own freaking gps I have to tell you that it's for when we go abroad this summer. Which I hope we will. Been too long since I car-journeyd anywhere.

Fruit for breakfast is highly underestimated.

Collateral Damage.

To stand on a street corner waiting for someone always gives me that feeling like I'm about to sell something illegal. To stand on a street corner with half my bra showing is... strange to say the least. (Ofc I pulled the t-shirt up to cover it, but still.)

I'm so bored lately. I don't know why, but everything just bores me. My job, my apartment, my friends. Maybe I just need a change of scenery or maybe I just need to pull myself together and realise that I'm the one who's boring and then do something about it.

It's Midsummer now. I love this holiday so much! When I was a kid we used to celebrate this with some friends of my parents and the food we had...
I'm sorry - I got sent back in time for a few seconds there.
Anyway...

In ancient days Midsummer was a time for reproduction and even though I'm sure people fuck on Midsummer, the only thing we really have left from that time is our giant penis. We used to get a big pole (like really really big), put flowers on it (cornflowers, oxeye daisies and poppies), make it into a cross (like the Christian ones) and then put a ring on each short side of said cross. (No idea if this makes sense.)

Yes, dear Christian missionaries - you can take away our language, our religion and our customs - but you can never take away our fuckfest!

Plenty of fish in the sea.

I get wrinkles when I laugh. I'm turning 25 this year and I have wrinkles. And you know what? It's okay. I don't care. I'm never gonna be one of those women who uses creams and botox and surgeries to make up for them getting older. Maybe if I get into an accident and want to look more like "me" and less like a "person who got into an accident".

Most people who use botox don't even know what it is they're spraying into their bodies. They know that it makes that frown of worry on their face disappear (you know - the one every normal person get when he or she looks at someone who's being weird), but I doubt they know that it's because they're spraying neural toxin into their foreheads. Or that said toxin is really REALLY dangerous and lethal in even small doses.

And who seriously believes in a commercial that shows how the wrinkles disappear just by putting on a cream every day for two weeks? Come on, people! They use another way to do the make-up and they light the model differently. Don't be stupid.

But who am I to judge? If they want to live on the edge then they should. I prefer to do other things though than putting toxin into my body.

*poke*

You're entitled to any opinion you want,
but as long as you don't agree with me
your opinion is wrong.

I always say this - have done for years really. Of course I don't mean it seriously, but I still say it.

I'm not the biggest fan of Sweden, but here I'm allowed to do and say what I want, I'm allowed to discuss my opinion with others and most of all - I'm allowed to tell them that their opinions are different from mine. I'm allowed to say that I disagree and I'm allowed to tell them why I disagree. Imagine a world without the right to express your opinion just because it differs from someone else's. Imagine a world where you're told what to do and what to think. Imagine a world where your way of life isn't accepted. Where you get harassed and spit on for being who you are; whether you're a woman, homosexual or just a critique of the regime.

Then imagine someone attacking. Someone who don't speak that same language that you do, who have different values and who look different. They're attacking to "free" you from the regime, but they kill your friends and loved ones in the process. Would you still thank them when the leader of your country dies? Would you still be happy when you're "free"? Would you still celebrate even though you don't have anyone to celebrate with?

We used to be like this. Female-fobic, homofobic, opinion-fobic. In the 19th Century. We got past it. Why is our way of life considered "better"? Are we really that much better than they are?

Don't get me wrong here - I like to have the same rights as a man (of course), but I still can't help wondering if they'll get through this on their own.

Just like we did once.

blasted away

It's June 15th 2009 today. How the heck did that happen? Yes, yes, I know that day pass and such, but seriously - it feels like it was January just a second ago - not to mention 2007. Maybe it's just me who has a brain that doesn't really want to comprehend that years pass, or maybe I simply had so much fun it all just passed in a blur.

I flipped through some old school catalogues and it's quite funny to realise that the people you truly hated were just as lost as you were. Apparently there was one girl when I was in the sixth grade who just yelled at me for no reason what so ever and called me names and ugly words. I don't remember it. I can't even recall something remotely close to it. My best friend is the one who's told me about it and she said "well, no wonder you repress that kind of thing - who would want to remember that?". The thing is that I don't really feel that I care anymore. I used to - I used to dwell so much, but now... I don't know - I suppose I made up with it. I'm not that shy, little outcast girl anymore, but I know that I have been and, if it suits my intentions, I can be again.

For as long as I can remember I've been wanting to live in another country. Actually I think it started for real when I was ten and did some schoolwork about New Zealand. I've always loved to travel - even those horrible car journeys down to Spain were worth it. That dream about moving to New Zealand lived with me until I was 16 and realised I would love to move to Australia. I talked about it so much that I don't think anyone would be really surprised if it really happened. Of course I had plans to go there and study once I finished high school, but I never did. (Apparently I wasn't as into marine biology as I thought - and I didn't pass physics so I was screwed either way.) To be completely honest - I think that dream was more about just "getting away" than actually moving somewhere else. You know, just getting away from all the problems and people and everything.
It's first now that I've realised that if I had moved then I would still have the problems. They wouldn't disappear just because I moved around the world.

Yesterday I decided to check jobs I could actually apply to and I found two that would fit me on the paper. Au pair. With couple. Maid. I laughed a bit while I actually considered it, but then I realised that I'm probably not the one you want to have cooking meals for your kids. Or the one you want to have to clean up the mess. I dismissed them rather quickly, but it feels good to know that I can if I want to.
It's not an "if" anymore either, it's a "when". I know which country I would like to live in and I know that even though I would leave all my friends here - some that I've known for more than 18 years - I wouldn't perish and die. I'd still be able to meet them and they me, and I know that I'd be able to make new friends aswell. I don't think I'd be able to do that when I was 19 and done with high school. Not in the same way anyway.
What scares me the most about moving abroad are all the paperwork that has to be done. It's not that I'm bad with papers or anything, but there's so much I don't understand and as a true controlfreak I have to understand absolutely everything. (I'm the one who reads the fine print on commercials, just because I have to know.) I know that my friends would help me if I asked them, but I want to know that I can do it myself. It feels great to know that if things should fuck up I can count on them, but I don't want to have to need them to be able to make it.

My friend sorted my books this weekend. That order really bothers me. I think I'm gonna go fix it before work.

S for "Salute".

I had a great idea yesterday. What if I put my alarm to 05:35 instead of 05:40? That'll give me time enough to take a shower. Talk about being hopeful - at 05:35 my head was still detached from my body and I had loads of trouble finding it. I suppose this is what I get for spending the whole evening in front of the computer. In my defence - the course is going rather well though. I'm actually ahead, which feels really good and quite reassuring. Of course, I haven't gotten any tasks yet, but I think the fact that I can read the books with a genuine interest helps me a lot. It makes it so much easier to take in and store the information and I think that the best I can do is to just focus and actually believe that I can do. To "have faith in myself" as one of my friends would put it.

It's quite funny actually. You can never know how people will enter your life and how they will become your friends. Nor can you know for how long they'll stay or how much they'll mean to you. A phone call here, a "hello" there, a silly comment in the passing. I remember one of my friends commenting my comment about looking like Cartman as "that's sexy in my book", which just put him on instant plus. The friendship with him eventually cost me the friendship with another, but it was worth it - because if I have to choose between two people, I will always choose the one who makes me feel like I can do anything.

T for "Tribute".

My jeans don't fit me anymore. They haven't done for a few months now and I still keep wearing them. I know that I've gained weight and I know that it's good, but this means I have to buy new jeans. I really don't like to buy jeans.
The thing about this is that it does annoy me a bit - even though I fit much better into my clothes now than I did before. I kinda looked like this before I started working nights in 2006 and then I turned into a hollow ghost afraid of people, but I think I'm back on track now. All I need to become my absolute perfect self is movement. Not that I don't move, but being in a "lab" for eight hours and then go home and be home for the remainder of the day isn't really very pleasant.
When me and my best friend lived with our parents and went to high school we used to run twice a week. I hate running, but the reward I got from it was worth every painful step. We used to run down to the beach a few kilometres away and when we got there we lay down on the jetty, watched the stars and heard the waves against the stones. Then we just went over our days and silly issues and problems and allowed ourselves to just drift away. That was about five years ago. Then she moved away from her parents and we didn't run anymore. I went inline-skating instead as often as I could, but then I moved away - and here I am now. This town isn't made for inline-skaters and I hate running. It's not that I pity myself here, I'm just annoyed really. I moved away from one of the most wonderful places I've ever seen to this. The ghetto. With gravel and pebbles and stones. It'll be fun to see how long it lasts.

I feel so nostalgic lately. Maybe it's because I'm finally trying to sort out my life properly and I'm "making up" with my past, or maybe it's just that I miss things. Like the moonlight picnics on top of the garage roof or the skinnydipping in the late summer evenings. I'm quite a prude normally, but I'm really fond of skinnydipping - there's something utterly relaxing and relieving about it.
Mostly I think I just miss my best friend a lot more than I admit.

dreams

I've been thinking quite a lot lately. Every morning when I wake up it takes about three seconds before my brain starts going into overload-mode. I know what I want. I need to buy groceries. I wanna sleep. I should start inline-skating again. It might seem silly, but it's the fact that all the thoughts come at once and yes, some of them are fairly easy to sort out, but why can't my brain just be numb and filled with cotton for an hour after I've woken up?
A friend massaged my back a while ago and told me that it technically shouldn't hurt when he did it. And it never has before. Sometimes I wonder what it feels like to be stressed out - does it feel like this?

it's raining outside

It's cold in here. As in really really cold. We're talking limd-numbing, annoyingly, fucking cold. And where is here? Here is work. A badly isolated building, to be correct. You get what you pay for - and so far no one has payed for anything.

My course in religion, fundamentalism and terrorism starts today. I'm quite proud of myself - this is the first time in 4 years that I've actually accepted my spot at the university. Of course, it helps that it's a subject I can talk about a lot - even if people don't ask me to. (That happens more often than not.)

My vote didn't make a difference - well, it did, but the party I voted for still didn't get a spot, so I suppose it comes down to me and my Scandia Liberation Front. Ah, that reminds me - I still have to register that... Ah, I'll do it later.

Now, if you excuse me, I have to go run a bit to keep my body from freezing to death.

Headline!

For some reason I tend to get very "into" things. I don't know how it happens and I don't really know why, but I do. Like now for example, when I'm into the voting for the European Parliament. I don't care about politics, but I still get "into" it.

I remember the last time - in 2004. I was 19 and I didn't vote. Not so much because I didn't care, but because I had no idea what it was about and I didn't feel like casting a blanc vote (because, let's face it - I always have an opinion). My boyfriend at the time went for a blanc and he kept telling me off because "voting is a privilege and think of all the people who doesn't have the right to vote" and so on and so forth. I still didn't vote though, and I still think I made the correct decision.

Today - about five years later and boyfriendless - I voted. And it felt good. I'm still all excited about it and I know that even though I don't want to care, I'm going to stay up and watch the vote-count, because now, I know that my vote can make a difference in the long run.

Nothing's impossible.

We watched Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels today and it made me think. You know all those gangster and mafia bosses? They're always really small or really old and still everyone are scared as hell of them? Why is that? How did they get their reputations? "Oh, I 'eard o' 'im! Chopped'em up good, 'e did! Tha's why they call 'im 'Chris the Chopper'." Did they really chop people up? No, of course they didn't. They were just smart enough to hire people dumber than themselves to do the dirty work for them. They get the reputation, the dumbasses get paid and the poor sucker gets killed.

A friend told me yesterday that sometimes when he speaks to me he thinks that I'd actually be scary when I'm mad, but then he just remembers how "tiny" I am and realises that I would never be scary. I think he has a point. I won't ever be scary, which leads me back to my plan about being terrifying. It will never work out, but the B-plan about respect might. So now my plan is to find two big guys much much dumber than me and have them do the dirty work for me. I'll of course be need a new name aswell - I could go with "A", I suppose, and let everyone think I'm a man. Or I'll just add something and make my whole appearance strangely creepy. Imagine a tiny woman, who doesn't look very frightening, smiling a friendly smile at you. Then imagine that the big boys behind her obeys her every word and you owe her money or whatever. Hrm, I should go out hunting...

Lightsaber says 'whooom'.

One of our neighbours graduated yesterday. She turns 19 this year. I was there when she was born and I can still remember that little girl. When her parents went away on holiday they always trusted me and her sister and when she was old enough to go out we took care of the downfalls.
My general opinion about graduation here is that it doesn't matter because you can fail every subject and still graduate, but I was so proud of her yesterday, and I feel so sorry for her now when she'll realise what life is really about.

Traditional graduation in Sweden starts with a champagne breakfast in the morning (class-wise), then a photoshoot and then the running of from the school.
Me and my friends just ignored our classmates and did one of our own - for a person who didn't drink (much) and didn't care it really was a great breakfast.
Once the breakfast was finished I got home, changed my clothes into a new-bought t-shirt, a very old skirt, new shoes and a cardigan I stole from my sister. My mom told me "oh, that won't look good - are you sure you wanna wear that?" and then told me "Oh, that's really nice!" once I put it on. Mothers.
I headed back to school after that wearing my incredibly ugly hat (a white peaked cap) and realised I knew an insane amount of people - I only speak with one of them today on a rather regular basis.

All this happened five years ago. I must've had a very funny life since, because that time really has flown right past.

Congratulations and celebrations!

A friend of mine has his birthday today. (That means there's five months until mine.) Last year I sent him an sms and congratulating him. This year I could do that in person. I really underestimate how much that means.

I turn 25 this year. Every time I realise that I keep thinking about the things I don't have, but this year I can actually think about the things I do have. Like my apartment, my job and my friends. And this year I've finally realised what it is I want to do and where I want to live. It only took me 24½ years quite exactly. Now it'll take me about 24½ years more to make it into a reality, but oh well.

We planned a big birthday party. One where you invite all your family and friends and just mingle. There won't be one. Shame really, I did look forward to it, but now I'll just go abroad again and celebrate this new-found independance. After all - I do deserve a good birthday present and I know that if I give myself a trip somewhere it'll be incredibly appreciated. Maybe not for the people who want to celebrate me, but for me who can get away from all the birthday-fuss.

"If everything else fucks up - I'll still have my chocolate penis."

My plane was delayed. By about half an hour, so it's not like when I went to England the first time and had to circulate over the airport for two hours. Still, getting delayed meant I missed my planned connection and had to take another travelling route. I'm not going to tell you how that went - but I got to where I was suppose to be in the end, and then I'd only been on the road for about seven hours, so I suppose it could be worse.

The weekend itself was an amazingly funny one. Great people without inhibitions and great people with inhibitions they think they have but really don't. I'd say more, but I'm still recovering from the madness. Can't wait to do it again though - I really can't.

Things I've learnt this weekend:

• Norweigan Airlines doesn't make the top list.
• If you are out in the sun - USE PROTECTION! Or just face the consequenses of crayfish and pain.
• An airmatress made for two isn't really suitable for three.