cocoon

"How much lab time have you got?

I disected a frog once...?"

I've never disected a frog. I've done cow's eye, crayfish and rat, but never a frog. I remember in ninth grade when I did the cow's eye. At first me and my best friend at the time were absolutely horrified. I mean - it was an eye and we were 15. Then we started to look at it - cut it in two and check the nerves and stuff. After a while it wasn't an eye anymore, it was just something we were cutting to check into.

The crayfish was fun. I remember disecting it and going "mine's got no brain" - yea yea, go on, it's a very easy joke at my expense. I was 16 at the time and the more gruesome stuff I found in that crayfish the more I wanted to eat it. The smell was wonderful. (Yes, I know how it sounds.) I remember a lot of people being disgusted by it, but to me it was heaven.

The rat... oh the rat. At first we called it "Junior", then "Rattie" and then we named her "Jeanette". You know, because it was a she. Jeanette was the name of our teacher in Swedish. When our biology teacher past us he went "I'm afraid to ask what the name would be if it was a male". "It would've been 'Pär' [pair] - but with an 'ä' instead of an 'e'." His name was "Per". For some reason he didn't believe us. About the ä-thing. We kicked ass at the dissection though and do you have any idea how hard it is to cut of a rat's tail? It's really hard! Oh, and sadly we broke the poor rat's arm. She was long dead though, but it felt a bit bad. Poor rat.

I will never be able to become a doctor, but I know that I would easily be able to cut into people. Okay, that sounded so less freaky in my head so I'm not sure if I should continue. Ah, fuck it. I can turn it off, you know. It's not a poor rat anymore, it was an object. Something interesting. Something dead. Yea, I'm just gonna stop here because I sound like a psycho-killer. Have a nice day!

...---...

I'm out of toothpaste. It annoys the hell out of me and I know that it's not harder than going down to the shop and getting a new tube, but it's such a stupid thing to run out of. It's like ketchup - you buy it so rarely that once it's gone it's basically the end of the world. I guess I should be grateful though because if this is the end of the world, then it's a pretty good world.

Apparently the computer isn't suppose to beep when you start it up. I really didn't know that. I figured that it did when it processed stuff. My co-worker told me yesterday that "no, if a computer beeps it means that there's something wrong" and he has a point. I mean, my laptop reboots itself if I turn it off and don't remove the cord and the battery. So he printed a list of different beeps for me and the reason for them. My beep was one long and three short - apparently that means that my video card is fucked. You know, that I can live with because it really would explain so much. It's not really what I need at the moment financially, but it's good to know what's wrong. That reminds me - I really should start up my stationary computer and listen to the beep there aswell. I'll do it after I've gotten that darn toothpaste. And bread. How come I'm out of everything all of a sudden?! I guess I should be happy that I at least have ketchup.

Palmtrees

My left wrist hurts. I don't know why, sometimes when I wake up it just hurts. There's no reason for it - I haven't fallen horribly on it or anything like that. Although sometimes I find myself wishing I could say something like "yes, it happened in the war - it's made of wood" or "every time the weather gets bad I get this horrible ache", but no. It justs hurts every now and then for no reason what so ever. You know, between you and me, sometimes I really wish I had one of those stories and a really awesome scar to prove it. I know it's a bit stupid of me, but you see - when I was a kid and went to school we used to compare the... hrm, well I suppose scar will have to do... the scar from the tuberculosis vaccination you get as a kid here. Some people had blue marks, some people had insane marks and I can't see mine now even if I'm looking for it. I might be able to see it if I look in the mirror, but right now I can't. I do have a scar though. One amazing war-story-scar. I was fighting wild tigers in the Madagascarian jungle when I suddenly found myself attacked by poachers! I fought them until they drew their last breaths - slayed them with their own machetes, but at a terrible price. My legs were cut open and bleeding horribly, and I limped for days, thinking that I was drawing my last breaths. Then all of a sudden I found a hermit's cabin and managed to pull up enough strength to knock on the door. The hermit took me in, tended my wounds and made me drink armadillo-blood. (In case you wonder it tastes a bit like lettuce.) I had to stay with him for many weeks until I was strong enough to start my long journey home.

Yea... and on a complete sidenote - the scar I have is when I dropped a bowl in my kitchen. I was playing World of Warcraft with some friends and we were talking over skype and then I got hungry. So I went out into my kitchen to make some noodles and then when said noodles were finished I went out to get a bowl for them. This is the same cupboard I got my hand stuck in last week, by the way. I hadn't secured it enough, I think, so for some reason I dropped the bowl and it got cut in two pieces at the kitchen sink. One of those pieces cut my right thigh and my friends heard me screaming. The cut was rather nasty - at least half a centimeter wide and probably as deep and about one and a half centimeter long. One of my friends lived right across the street so he threw some desinfection and band-aids up on my balcony. This was in 2008 and I saw Batman: The Dark Knight at the cinema that night. All the time scared as hell that the band-aid wouldn't be enough and the blood would gush out again.

Outside the dawn is breaking

The first English teacher I had in high school was probably one of the best English teachers I have ever had. I didn't learn all that much in that first year except the difference of "was" and "were", but his way of teaching was very fun. We all got a paper with stuff we had to do to get a certain grade - like "read a book and write a review", "lead a discussion" and stuff like that. I really enjoyed it. Of course, I was the only one who got the highest grade so... (Yes, I am really proud about that - to be honest, this is the first time I'm thinking about it in probably five years.)
There was one discussion I was very proud of and that was being pro-abortion. I was supposed to be against it, but my friend who was in the "pro"-group couldn't handle the arguments the audience threw at her so we switched. Between you and me, sitting in front of the rest of the class and answering the question "so what about if a child gets raped" with "well, I know every little girl wants a baby - I know I did when I was a child" is probably one of the sickest things I have ever done in my life. I didn't mean a word of it, (something I proved three years later with our last project) but it was fun to discuss it. It was fun to get impossible arguments thrown at you and try to turn them. I remember that "my team" won the discussion in the end, but I honestly have no idea how, haha.

Another thing we did was telling people about the ten commandments. I went to a school with a lot of people from other cultures and in that class I think we were four or five people with a Swedish background, so not a whole lot of them actually knew them. Of course... our ten commandments didn't really work as the ones in the Bible do... Some of them I can't remember, but I'll give you a similar idea of what they were.

1. I am the Lord your God and you shall have no other gods before me = worship whatever you want whenever you want
2. You shalt not make for yourself an idol = signed picture anyone?
3. Thou shalt not make wrongful use of the name of your God = You're allowed to curse as much as you want
4. Remember the Sabbath and keep it holy = Use the Sunday as your hang-over day
5. Honor your father and mother [in Swedish this goes "honor your father and your mother and it may do you well and you may long live in the same country] = Ignore your parents and you'll live long and prosper in any country you want
6. You shall not murder = You shall only murder if you can get away with it
7. You shall not steal = You shall not steal more than you can carry with you
8. You shall not bear false witness against your neighbour [in Swedish "witness" is "vittnesbörd" and very close to "wheat-bread", "vetebröd"] = You shall not put false wheat bread in your neighbour's purse
9. You shall not covet your neighbour's wife = You shall not have sexual intercourse with anyone you've known less than two hours
10. You shall not covet anything that belongs to your neighbour = You're not supposed to screw your neighbour, his wife or anything else, but if you have to - make sure you've known the person longer than two hours.

It really was a lot of fun and some times I find myself missing it. Then I realise that I was 16 and went to school and then all of a sudden I don't miss it that much anymore.

My apartment looks like shit. And it smells like vomit. Why does this always happen to me? I haven't even thrown up since last year! And I most certainly didn't throw up outside my loo!

Break free - do it!

A friend of mine is eating something we call "nyponsoppa". According to my dictionary it's "rosehip soup" in English, but the bush it grows on is called "dogrose bush". I know that English is a really weird language, but that makes absolutely no sense at all. Unless of course it's because the dogs pee all over the bushes. I guess it would make a little sense then. You know what? I'm just gonna stop speculating about this and just say that it was ages since I had rosehip soup. It was ages since I had blueberry soup aswell, and I like that a lot more even though I hate blueberries, but knowing me and my... clumsy streak... it's just better to have rosehip soup.

Yesterday I probably had the most fun I've had in years. Good friends, some silly games, the opportunity of losing and just chats and laughter and fun. I mean, do you really need anything more? I don't think so.

Twister is a funny game. Our thing with it used to be that we played it naked - at least that's what we told others to make them wish they were there. Trust me, you don't wanna do it naked - all of a sudden you get a really hairy ass up your nose. And yes, that's happened to me. Or well, at least I think it was hairy... for safety reasons the person had jeans on. And you know, it's always the same. Because someone will shove their ass up your face. I did it yesterday. Right before I lost - there's just something about left hand on blue that doesn't work if you're standing on green and red and got someone behind you halfway up your dress. Yea, if you've never played Twister I really recommend you do. Oh shut up and just trust me on this!

"I'm in love!"

Success is nothing you hunt for.

It's someting you attract with the person you become.

Do you know what I really like about today? No, of course you don't since I haven't told you yet. Today is Midsummer. (You know, our annual fuckfeast.) I love this holiday more than I love Christmas and with the risk of making this into something the Catholic church could be involved in - I remember the love I had for it when I was a child. We used to celebrate it with some friends at their house with the most wonderful garden. In said garden the adults put up a big table and on the table was all the glorious food. Oh, the food. The funny thing is that we eat pretty much the same things we do at Christmas, but there's just something special with sitting outside in the sun with friends instead of family. Oh, and for some reason we always have strawberries and every person eats them differently. I always grew up with adding just sugar to mine, some of my friends added cream, some whipped cream and some had milk. I never got the whole cream/milk-thing myself though. Of course, the thing I love the absolute most is the potato. A special kind of potato. We call it "new potato" (one word in my Swedish) and some call it "fresh potato" (also one word), but I'm not sure of the English word... Hrm, I have to get my dictionary and check. Ah, apparently it is "new potatoes". (In your face rest of Sweden! Ha! Yes, I'm 25...) You cook it with dill and it just tastes divine. Excuse me, I'm actually drifting away here into the world of potatoes.

On a complete sidenote (or well, maybe not complete) I really can't look through a dictionary in search for a word. I was searching for "dill" (which is the same as in Swedish apparently) and I just drifted into "dimridå" (smoke curtain) and "difteri" (diphtheria) and for a few seconds I had no idea which word I was looking for. Can you hire someone to just search the dictionary for you? I think I need that.

Easy as a tiny pancake!

Tonight I slept about three hours. It was my own fault, of course. It usually is. And still I managed to get up this morning and get dressed and get to work right on time. (I clocked in at 06:00am and my shift starts at 06:00am.) Okay, so it's not ideal - but it works! It's a bit hard though when you have the friends of the small-town-band-orchestra visiting you and you have some trouble walking and sitting down. Guess I shouldn't complain though - I get the sweet, wonderful release.

Right now I'm singing along to Human with the Killers which is such a wonderful song and I kind of don't want it to end. I love singing along to songs and I still claim that singing along out loud improves the mood. I think more people should sing out loud. Imagine all those boring business people who seem so bored they could die. If they just started singing à la musicale they'd be much happier and it'd be so much more fun for everyone!

Yesterday was such a good day. It's always wonderful to visit Copenhagen and not feel that you have anything you must do. We mostly just walked around and looked at buildings and enjoyed the sun and our company. It was great! Of course... the fact that the train home got stopped due to a "problem with a signal" was a bit annoying. Especially since there was no problem with a signal, but two black bags at the back of the train without an owner. "This train will not go any further. Passengers must please go out on the platform and take the next train. It's expecting to arrive within five minutes." Okay, thank you. My friend was furious. "Stupid people who do fucking drugs, they ruin for themselves and others!" Personally I hate drugs with a passion, but if people wanna ruin themselves then sure - go for it. Just don't ruin it for me.

Okay lady, I love you! Bye bye!

There are few things I dislike more than getting woken up in the morning. I'm really not fond of having someone calling me and then not being there when I'm nice enough to get out of bed and answer in English. Yes, I actually answered my phone in English. It was just a "hello", but still - it was the first thing that came to mind. I need to speak more Swedish, I think.

Yesterday morning I hurt my left hand. I was out in my kitchen and I think I was doing the dishes or something and putting stuff up in my kitchen cabinets. Just to try and get you the proper picture here - the cabinets in question are above my sink and the doors open upwards. They're quite high (for me at least) so I have to jump to "fasten" them. I guess I didn't do that properly yesterday so one of the doors just slammed right back down into my left hand. It has two small bruises now like vampire teeth sunk into it. And yes it hurts. If I press it... which I of course just did... I'm not stupid. Not really. I promise! I just had to check it.

If I put my alarm to "10:00am" why does it make a sound at "09:59am" then? Never get an LG-phone. Utter crap. Can't even take some tough love...

Is it sad that my biggest problem right now is what I'm going to wear today? Jeans, dress, short skirt, longer skirt, red, blue, green, orange? And which shoes? Flip-flops, slip-ins, sneakers? I guess not. I guess it's a good thing.

Have you ever seen the sunrise?

Another day, another heat-wave. And pain. Oh, the pain. Bring on the blood already, damn it! Come and welcome the small-town-band-orchestra and then take them with you when you leave! Release me from the infernal hell that is this bloody heat!
I just saw an Armani-commercial where the model was in water all the time. Oh my god, that seems amazing. You can just sink me into an icecube and leave me there for a few days. I mean, you wouldn't even notice me. Really. (Of course, I'd be completely surrounded by ice and unable to move so if you did notice me I guess that'd be a bit strange...)

You know, once I heard about a masquerade ball in Italy that's so exclusive people pay insane amount for their customes when they get invited. I have no idea where I read or heard it and of course I haven't managed to find anything about it, but it's one of those things I'd love to attend. Of course, mostly I think it's just an excuse for a bunch of dusty, old nobles to have decadent sex without their loved ones knowing. I can see it. Me in the most wonderful outfit which, of course, I have absolutely no idea of what it looks like, and then some old, fat, sweaty bastard breathing down my neck, calling me "Josephine" and wondering if we "shouldn't depart to a demote corner and..." - yep, I can see it happen. I would of course have to say "oh, but yes, signor" and even though I'd be throwing up inside I would keep my smile on. Oh the scandal should I not accept. The international crisis! The whispers... "She turned him down..." "Doesn't she know who he is...?" "A million girls would kill for that opportunity..." Yes, so I would have to follow. And I would have to fake interest. And then I would become pregnant and he would have to marry me to avoid a scandal among his people and my family would love that I'm "marrying rich" and all the time I'd be breaking inside because I was stupid enough to attend that masquerade ball. You know... I don't think I want to visit that ball anymore. I think I'll just stay here. In the heat.

Maybe I should clean my windows today... god knows it's well-needed...

The Town of Spectre

The heat is insane - I feel like I'm living in a sauna. Although, I guess being warm is better than being really cold and shivering and shaking... But with the cold you don't have the stickyness. That's really annoying me - waking up and feeling all sticky. Like if I walked against something I'd actually get stuck in it and it doesn't go away if I open up the door to my balcony because it's just as sticky outside.

Steve Buscemi. Best. Actor. Ever.

- I've been working on this poem for 12 years.

Don't wanna disappoint my fans.

"The grass is so green
skies so blue

Spectre is really great!"

- It's only three lines long...?

- This is why you should never show a work in progress!

Allez, allez, allez!

Every other year I turn into a complete football-fanatic. I know all the rules, all the results, all the players (hey, I can write whatever I want here and if I wanna bend the truth, I'll bend the truth) and the coaches (truth-bending damnit - accept it). The rest of the time I really don't care. At all. My family has always been a complete football-family - my sister played for years and my dad used to coach. Personally I think I might've seen one of her games. One. I know, I'm such an amazing sister.

I used to watch the Swedish Allsvenskan (it's like Premier League of course, but in Swedish - yea yea, my entry, my rules), but I did that with my friends and then we all moved our separate ways and we stopped caring. It was more of a friends-thing than actual football anyway, I think.

So here we are. The World Championships. How I have been waiting for you. Every time there is either European Championships or the World Championship I become a bit more insane than normally. I watch every game and if I can't watch it on TV, I listen to it on the radio. If I can't listen to it on the radio I actually die a bit inside. I try to tell myself that I don't care, but I so obviously know that I'm lying.

Another good thing about this is that one of my friends - who's a complete football-fanatic - allowed me to translate one of his entries. (Yes, this is the same guy whose entry I translated earlier.)

I've said that I'll write less about football, but since it's the World Champs it's kinda impossible. The World Championships in football is just like one big orgasm that you've been waiting four years to get. Now, this world championship has started like a semi-bad foreplay with someone who doesn't really know how much tongue one should use when kissing, but still. :P

There's been quite a few unexpected results. Germany got beaten up with some very good help from a Spanish judge who was carving cheese like he was working at McDonald's.

Holger Badstuber - the Germans know how to name their kids! :P ["Badstuber" makes me think of one of those tiny cabins you change in when you're at the beach.]

Spain also got a kick in the balls and according to Spanish press it's Casilla's girlfriend who's the guilty one. Apparently she's TOO good-looking. I mostly thought she looked like a more fish-like Denise Richards.

And one simply has to mention England. This wonderful little country with its great beer, non-existing food culture and inventor of the pretty popular game most of us call Football. (Yes, it's Football and not Soccer you bloody janks! :P) Before every championship starts all of England and large parts of the rest of the world believe that they're the world champs. Now, two matches later we can say that they'd probably fail against any b-ranked team from any tiny suburb. :P Just because you managed to win (with a hell of a lot of luck) one World Champs almost 50 years ago that doesn't automatically mean that you're the world champs now.

I also heard that Holland, thanks to their victory against Denmark, shoved Sweden down to a 9th place at the marathon chart in the World Championship. Not bad at all by such a tiny nation as we are to be at the 9th place. :P
We "only" have Brazil, Germany, Italy, Argentina, England, France, Spain and now Holland in front of us. :P

"He gets into the penalty area, looks up and there he pulls his hip out of place and shoots. Score!!!"

Okay, so I checked this "marathon chart"-thingie and I think that it's about how good you've been through the years. I could be wrong of course, but then I will wear a sign on every day for two weeks saying that "I know nothing of football and I'm ashamed of it". (No, of course I won't - but you get the whole point of "my entry" now, don't you?)

Lately I feel all warm and sticky - I wonder if the fact that I sleep with a winter-cover and that the sun heats up my apartment in the morning have something to do with this... I shall investigate!

"For you baby, I could be..."

*science-channel voice* It's dark when the moth-hunter comes out to find its prey. It sneaks into the bathroom and pretend to be a cold-hearted murderer. Armed with its shoe it waits for the moth to make the first move. For hours it waits. Listens. Watches. The moth strikes! The hunter is ready. The weapon hits the predator again and again and the animal draws its last breath. Goodbye cruel world.

Of course, being me I thought it was a spider, freaked out and quickly went back into my hallway. Then I slowly went back into my bathroom only to find out it was a moth and before I realised I had a shoe to kill it with, it had disappeared. Some times I feel so not cool and hard.

aiming for the sky

Our crown princess is getting married this Saturday. To the wedding a lot of world leaders are invited (of course) and among those are a few leaders from some nice dictatorships. Isn't that nice and considerate? Everyone is welcome. Of course, I'm not invited. Sure, I can see it on my TV-screen and of course I will, but it still hurts that I wasn't invited.

A lot of people are against the monarchy, but the royalties never really did me anything. Of course, they never really did anything for me directly either, but I can't hate people for not doing things. Oh wait... Point is - I'm not against the monarchy. If seen from a marketing perspective then being against the monarchy is incredibly stupid. Sure, they don't really do much than wave their silly waves, but oh well - I'd gladly pay to have them.

Really? Fascinating, fascinating. Please tell me more.

Yesterday I spoke to a friend about prejudice and what a strange thing it really is. (We also spoke about voices and dialects and how weird it is that a person's voice really can ruin the whole appearance. I'm might've said that David Beckham sounds like "a faggot", a word I never ever use. Ever. Sorry about that mr. Beckham! You do look really good in person, but please - for the love of god - keep your mouth shut!)

I told my friend how the English are perceived by other nationalities - pale so they only get farmer's tans and they all have big ears (well done there, Prince Charles). Then he said that they used to be seen as aristocrats (you know, those people with a bad smell under their nose) and of course I had to tell him that those days are gone and added that now people also see football-hooligans when they think of England. Come to think of it, I don't even see the English royal family like aristocrats. Sure, their Queen is just "too good" for us commoners, but I'm willing to bet almost everything I have (it's not that much though) that she puts on a football-jersey and roots for England with a beer, just like everyone else. "Run Rooney, you red-headed beep of a beep! Move your beep mother-beep beep from the beep side and for beep sake - ruuuun!"

Swedes on the other hand are apparently still seen as blonde chicks with big breasts. So England goes from aristocrats with "tea and crumpets" to football-hooligans and we still look like a bunch of Playboymodels. I'm not sure which is worse to be honest... Maybe this means that Swedes are already perfect so people don't have to change their opinions, or maybe all those blonde chicks with big breasts (yeah, they exist alright) should be forced to stay within the Swedish border. Preferably in a root cellar - mostly because I've always wanted to put someone in one, but apparently it's not legal to move people and keep them in a cellar if they don't agree to it. Damn you legal system!

Somehow I wonder how the prejudice started. I guess it's some form of fear of the unknown and if you tell yourself what people are like then you don't really have to meet them because you already know. It's a win-win! You don't have to talk or smell them and uhm well, that's it. (I sort of went back to 18th Century French aristocracy there. No idea why.)
Mostly I just blame the movies for it (even though I still claim that Eurotrip is an amazing documentary of everyday life in Europe). The Dutch take drugs and have sex with hookers, Germans are named Hanzel and Gretel and make hardcoreporn in a gingerbreadhouse then round of the evening with bratwurst and saurkraut, the English mostly communicates with grunts and yells, the Swiss look down on anyone with less than €20000 in cash in the wallet, the Italians mostly give people the finger, say "mama mia" and serve pasta and pizza, the French think their awesome, put down their guns every time there's a war and eat frogs and snails, the eastern European countries all live in poverty and misery and everything is grey, cold and covered in snow... You know, at times like these I'm so glad that I know all this - it saves me so much trouble with having to visit and interact with people. I'm so glad I'm not prejudice!

My friend also had a go at me for saying that I sometimes speak "American English". "There is no such thing as American English - it's the Queen's English! America's not even a country!"
So, in the Queen's English: "Mother-beep son of a beep!"

"Who makes Steve Guttenberg a star? We do! We do!"

I have a bit of a problem. You see, at late evenings and nights I like to have crisp bread (knäckebröd) with butter and cheese and a glass of milk (fat milk - I don't do light-shit). So yesterday I stocked my supply with cheese and milk and figured that since the cheese I usually have (Mansion - Herrgård in Swedish) doesn't taste very much I'll go with Gouda this time. Bad idea. All food that enters my mouth needs a minimum of taste. Gouda doesn't have a minimum of taste. I wish I knew that before I bought a really big cheese!

The exam in labour rights went amazingly well. I wasn't expecting anything else of course, but after last year's disaster I try not to hope. It's just better to be safe than sorry, but it did feel really good. To make a good day even better me and the people I play my silly computergame with got the end-boss to 38,2%. Imagining it, if you will, like really punching your boss up good. Or that annoying middle manager. We got him aswell. More people should definitely play computergames - it helps with aggression, haha.

Is it sad that I had to google what Alexander Skarsgård's character, Erik, says in the first Trueblood-episode he's in? My mind was so set on English that I couldn't make it out - and I tried three times. After the googling it all made sense when I heard it again. My brain is weird.

Flowers!

An exam in labour rights. The last official exam of the first year. Somehow I feel like I should be freaked out. Like I should hyperventilate and just "oh my god, oh my god, oh my god - I haven't studied enough - OH MY GOD!". I definitely shouldn't look forward to it, but there's just something about having an exam and not really being able to be wrong.

Let me explain; "Joe abuses his wife and likes to get drunk after work. One day he hits another employee, after work, after one beer to many. Is it wrong to fire him?"

If I wanted to fire him I'd answer "yes" and find something in the law about how he can't co-operate and that people are scared of him. "If he abuses his wife - what is saying that he won't abuse his co-workers?".

If I wanted to say "no" then I'd state that he's actually not doing anything at work and he's still doing his job, so it's wrong to fire him.

You see where I'm going with this, right? And yes, of course I'll argue for the second alternative. It's much more fun.

What's the fuss?

Sometimes I should really check the date before I make an outrageous post. Like yesterday. When the world champs in football obviously didn't start since it wasn't June 11th. The thing is that I knew it was the 4th, but somehow my brain had a complete melt-down. Wow...

calm

Some things really annoy me. Like now - then the world championships in football starts and NONE OF MY CHANNELS SHOW IT! Maybe "annoyed" isn't the proper word here...

My only hope now is to Denmark and their channels since I REFUSE TO WATCH THE WORLD CHAMPS ON A 17"-LAPTOP-SCREEN WHEN I HAVE A BLOODY 40"-TV!

And inhale... and exhale...

enough is enough

I passed my exam in Dutch reading profiency! I got the grade "E" which means "enough" and that's good enough for me. Yay and hooray!

There's something about guys with grey hair. There really shouldn't be, but there is. Max Ryan, Dermot Mulroney... Oh my god. Okay, this is so not healthy - I'm gonna stop now.

same old story

Have you ever cheated on someone? Looked the person into the eyes and said "I was with someone else"? Seen the pain when the thought goes through the mind? Realised the suffering of the thoughts that come every time you're not with your partner? What's happening? Is it me? What am I doing wrong?

Have you ever been the person someone is cheating on their partner with? Have you ever judged those people? Wondered how they can have affairs with someone who's taken? Wondered how they can believe that the person they sleep with will leave their partner for them?

What if it's just not sex? What if it's something mental? Something deep. Is that better or worse? It's not kissing - it's sharing of ideas, thoughts and dreams. It's not touching, but it's mental painting of images and wishes. Which is worse?

He painted wonderful images for me. About our future together and our house and children. And I believed them. Because I really wanted to. I've always wanted a messy Sunday-morning breakfast with jam everywhere and screams and spoons and stuff. When it ended I didn't dream. At all. I didn't dare to. I didn't want to risk it being taken away from me. Because I believed in it. I believed that he would leave her for me and create the life we always talked about. It was just that of course - talk. It was "never supposed to get this far".

I will never judge the mistress again. Ever.

Poisoned rain.

• My apartment smells like vomit. I guess that's what I get for not being at home for one weekend. One bloody weekend.


• I can't find my calendar. Not that I actually need it, but it's a bit annoying not to be able to doodle in it.


• It pisses me off more when people have a go at my friends than at me. Who knew?


• The critisism against Sex and the City 2 isn't really justified. Sure, the critics have a point with a lot of things they're saying, but I don't think that the dialogue is empty, the movie cheering on for consumption and filled with nice pictures of the nature. And I know what I'm talking about. I read a course in consumption. I failed... but I read it!