Acknowledgements about myself
Lately I've been increasingly aware of how terrible I'm at enthusiasm. By that I don't mean showing enthusiasm, but exercising it. Perhaps the most obvious case is travelling. A few years ago it was an adventure going outside of the region I lived in, Skåne. Nowadays travelling doesn't give me the same scary but undeniably jittery feeling. Well, don't get me wrong. It's still scary and jittery, but not in the proportions as before.
I'm going to the US this summer for three weeks. Sure, it'll be fun and everything but do I think of it every day? Do I plan what to do in every little possible detail? Do I dream away to places I want to vist? No, I don't. I have a busy life that needs maintenance and focus. And I think it's rather sad.
Travelling is a drug. For every trip I do, I'm in greater need of a new injection, a new high, new experiences. At the same time, I need stronger doses each time. I need bigger, better, faster. So how am I now supposed to fill my need of strange, exceptional and different when I spend one year recently as far away from Sweden possible? When I went to Holland I had a great experience with my friends, and I'd go there again any day, but it didn't give me a high as strong as I got in NZ or Samoa. Not very strange at all, as their cultures, nature and people are not the same as here. It's different there.
Oh well. I'm not complaining. I'm still very excited for this summer's trip and I can't wait to put my books on the shelf and get on that plane for three weeks of adventure, exploring and most of all MEETING MY FRIENDS! How lucky am I on a scale of 1 to 10? Obviously 10 when it comes to travelling. Hard work, a strict budget and perhaps most of all a generous family made it all happen.
As for now I'm starting to put up new travel goals, carefully though. One of them is Papua New Guinea. I'd like to go there to hike from villiage to villiage to see how the people live and perhaps most of all, meet the pretty recently cannibalistic villiagers and hear their stories of how their lives changed after the British settlers of Australia went in to stop the cannibalism and convert them to Christianity. Exciting, huh? I can't wait till the day I can fulfil this.
There are no boundaries but oneself. You are the one to set your own restrictions!
I'm going to the US this summer for three weeks. Sure, it'll be fun and everything but do I think of it every day? Do I plan what to do in every little possible detail? Do I dream away to places I want to vist? No, I don't. I have a busy life that needs maintenance and focus. And I think it's rather sad.
Travelling is a drug. For every trip I do, I'm in greater need of a new injection, a new high, new experiences. At the same time, I need stronger doses each time. I need bigger, better, faster. So how am I now supposed to fill my need of strange, exceptional and different when I spend one year recently as far away from Sweden possible? When I went to Holland I had a great experience with my friends, and I'd go there again any day, but it didn't give me a high as strong as I got in NZ or Samoa. Not very strange at all, as their cultures, nature and people are not the same as here. It's different there.
Oh well. I'm not complaining. I'm still very excited for this summer's trip and I can't wait to put my books on the shelf and get on that plane for three weeks of adventure, exploring and most of all MEETING MY FRIENDS! How lucky am I on a scale of 1 to 10? Obviously 10 when it comes to travelling. Hard work, a strict budget and perhaps most of all a generous family made it all happen.
As for now I'm starting to put up new travel goals, carefully though. One of them is Papua New Guinea. I'd like to go there to hike from villiage to villiage to see how the people live and perhaps most of all, meet the pretty recently cannibalistic villiagers and hear their stories of how their lives changed after the British settlers of Australia went in to stop the cannibalism and convert them to Christianity. Exciting, huh? I can't wait till the day I can fulfil this.
There are no boundaries but oneself. You are the one to set your own restrictions!
The recipe of success
Kvinnor!
"Se till att ni inte går för lättklädda. Se upp för att gå själva på kvällen. Se till att ni inte blir våldtagna."
Vad är det för jävla budskap? När ska det motsatta komma ut istället? När ska den invanda tanken vara att män inte ska våldta, istället för att kvinnor inte ska bli våldtagna?
En av världens många oattraktiva brister.
Vad är det för jävla budskap? När ska det motsatta komma ut istället? När ska den invanda tanken vara att män inte ska våldta, istället för att kvinnor inte ska bli våldtagna?
En av världens många oattraktiva brister.
Commercial - what do we gain from it really?
It really bothers me how commercials from entirely different companies in the end have the exact same commercials. Regardless if it's for perfume, clothing, cars och beverages, the women are always skinny, tall and beautiful and the men smart, muscular and "manly". How come people actually buy this? How come we believe in commercials when they all look the same, and the only thing really seperating them from intertwining is the brand itself?
For an example, Buddy Holly's song Everyday is forever ruined for me, as I everytime I hear it think of the food brand "Felix". How pathetic. Even worse is that there isn't a way to escape it. We are lost in the world of commercials, and we'll never find our way back. When I'm old there probably won't be many things left "untouched" by commercials, for me to have my own perspective on it.
For an example, Buddy Holly's song Everyday is forever ruined for me, as I everytime I hear it think of the food brand "Felix". How pathetic. Even worse is that there isn't a way to escape it. We are lost in the world of commercials, and we'll never find our way back. When I'm old there probably won't be many things left "untouched" by commercials, for me to have my own perspective on it.
This is me
Pics from the wine and beer tasting in Gothenburg with Spendrups
Crawl
Went crawling with 20ish people from my class last night. Didn't go out and woke up around 9am, so I can't feel bad in that manner. However, I can feel that I drank last night. I just wonder how come I never drink Powerade anymore.. When I lived in New Zealand Powerade was the remedy of a hangover. Wierd that it took me 8(!) months to be reminded of this..
All of a sudden I wish someone could bring me a Powerade, Domino's garlic & cheese bread and a beer. The ultimate kiwi hangover remedy.
And oh. My apartment smells like sangria from the crawl. I have to clean.
All of a sudden I wish someone could bring me a Powerade, Domino's garlic & cheese bread and a beer. The ultimate kiwi hangover remedy.
And oh. My apartment smells like sangria from the crawl. I have to clean.
Good wine and good friends
Ciao belli!
It's just past midnight and I'm listening to classical music (Mozart). I'm kind of drunk. Okay, I'm drunk. A friend came over to plan a crawl wich takes place next week on Wednesday. We had dinner and a lot of wine, so basically we've been planning a bit and drinking a lot. She went home about twenty minutes ago, so here I am Sunday night drunk as a drunk and hungry. Yes, I get extremely hungry when I consume alcohol and I don't fear calories like most girls do. I just eat.
Either way. Drunk as I am I think about life. Why are we so withdrawn? Why are we so shy? Why are we so concerend? I mean... when we are drunk we lose that fear of making a fool of ourselves and let loose. By that I'm not saying that we should get drunk and puke down from our balcony every night, but that we should try to "behave" more drunk while sober. Let loose. Speak your mind. Smile toward cute guys. Be honest and straightforward. What do you have to loose?
Well, that's really the only thing I wanted to say. Learn how to be honest, straight forward and ope minded.
I'm going to bed now, I best not write more drunk as I am. However, as they say, "the drunk person speaks the truth" however how correct that is I don't know, probably not much correct at all. Sleep (and eat) now, perhaps watch a movie. I'll watch a movie.
Cheers.
It's just past midnight and I'm listening to classical music (Mozart). I'm kind of drunk. Okay, I'm drunk. A friend came over to plan a crawl wich takes place next week on Wednesday. We had dinner and a lot of wine, so basically we've been planning a bit and drinking a lot. She went home about twenty minutes ago, so here I am Sunday night drunk as a drunk and hungry. Yes, I get extremely hungry when I consume alcohol and I don't fear calories like most girls do. I just eat.
Either way. Drunk as I am I think about life. Why are we so withdrawn? Why are we so shy? Why are we so concerend? I mean... when we are drunk we lose that fear of making a fool of ourselves and let loose. By that I'm not saying that we should get drunk and puke down from our balcony every night, but that we should try to "behave" more drunk while sober. Let loose. Speak your mind. Smile toward cute guys. Be honest and straightforward. What do you have to loose?
Well, that's really the only thing I wanted to say. Learn how to be honest, straight forward and ope minded.
I'm going to bed now, I best not write more drunk as I am. However, as they say, "the drunk person speaks the truth" however how correct that is I don't know, probably not much correct at all. Sleep (and eat) now, perhaps watch a movie. I'll watch a movie.
Cheers.
Regarding the KONY 2012 campaign
I suppose most of you people have seen the KONY 2012 video by now? In case you haven't it's a 30 minute long video basically explaining that Joseph Kony is a man in Central Africa, leader of Lord's Resistance Army (LRA) who conducts children, makes them kill their family, uses the boys as child soldiers and the girls as sex slaves. Well, I'm not going to explain the whole background, if you don't know the story, watch the video, and I can assure you that it'll be the best spend 30 minutes of your week:
So back to the campaign, the organisation (or rather company actually) behind the video is called Invisible Children, which in the past few days since the video was released has recieved a lot of critique, but also support. The video was released three days ago from today, and has alreade had over 52 million views!
The critiques have mostly been about Invisible Children, but some is aimed toward the video itself as well. The main critique and argument is, as I get it, that Invisible Children don't use enough of the donations as it should to the actual promoted purpose, they do call themselves non-profits and should therefore live up to that. Invisible Children do have a reply to this, saying when the first numbers where stated about what they use their money for something went wrong and the percents showed up wrong, but that they today do fulfil their use of the money and that the critique regarding that is incorrect.
Yes, huge parts of it all is about money. There are also speculations about their co-operation with the local military, their condescending toward the locals whom are portrayed as the victims in the video and their legitimacy, are they trustworthy? Should we support them with our time and money?
As far as I concern, the sources of the primary critiques are unknown and unproven, so it makes me wonder whether these people just don't have anything else better to do a rainy day than trying to make people go against campaigns like this and make people in general suspicious toward anyone who claims to have good intentions. Yes, we all should be suspicious, more or less, and always ask ourselves what is the source of this information, why should I believe you and what are your arguments to prove you're right?
But on the other hand, in cases like this my biggest concern is how deeply cynical people actually are. This is not a video with numbers to a bank account asking for a donation, but a plea to the people to forward the video in order to spread the information. YES, they do inform the viewer that there are several ways to support the cause including buying items such as bracelets etc, or donating "a few dollars a month" which I believe is not a huge request, but most of all the ask you to sign the pledge and forward the video which is entirely for free, it doesn't cost you a dime, only a few extra minutes of your time, and people, time isn't literally money.
What they ask for is simply information to be spread, people to be educated and to be given a chance to have their own say about it. The International Criminal Court (ICC) issued on the 27th September 2005 a warrant of arrest for Joseph Kony, and without the KONY 2012 campaign people in general (with access to internet) wouldn't know this, they wouldn't know who he was nor what he have done. Even if Invisible Children used their donations for different causes than they claim to do, I still believed that they have accomplished something extraordinarily and exceptionally good; they have made people conscious.
Yes, most people just watch the video, get emotionally involved for 30 minutes, forward the video through posting it on Facebook, and then forget all about it. But you must not forget that out of all these millions of people, there are surely several who actually do engage and take action. There are those to get involved, take it to a higher ground and to a political level where action CAN be done, and for that we have Invisible Children to thank.
So to all of you who say that all of us who post this video on Facebook and ask our friends to watch it and pass it forward are "stupid and believe all we see and hear" I say find the reliable sources that prove Invisible Children and KONY 2012 being a scam, and I will remove the video from my Facebook. If you can find evidence that Kony does not exist and that these abductions never realy occurred, then I'll stop asking my friends to forward the video.
But until then I will continue to believe in this cause, not based on what Invisible Children do with their donations, but on the fact that people now KNOW what the heck is going on down there, that they are reacting and most of all that they are demanding their governments to do something about it. That is worth more than the exact plan behind it all, because if this can result in making even just one person's life better down there in Africa, we should be proud of ourselves, because one single person's life is worth 52 000 000 000 people's commitment. The more the better, but one is always a great achievement regardless of that one person's gender, color, sexual orientation or country of origin.
Wepages worthy of your time and interest:
International Criminal Court
KONY 2012
Invisible Children
So back to the campaign, the organisation (or rather company actually) behind the video is called Invisible Children, which in the past few days since the video was released has recieved a lot of critique, but also support. The video was released three days ago from today, and has alreade had over 52 million views!
The critiques have mostly been about Invisible Children, but some is aimed toward the video itself as well. The main critique and argument is, as I get it, that Invisible Children don't use enough of the donations as it should to the actual promoted purpose, they do call themselves non-profits and should therefore live up to that. Invisible Children do have a reply to this, saying when the first numbers where stated about what they use their money for something went wrong and the percents showed up wrong, but that they today do fulfil their use of the money and that the critique regarding that is incorrect.
Yes, huge parts of it all is about money. There are also speculations about their co-operation with the local military, their condescending toward the locals whom are portrayed as the victims in the video and their legitimacy, are they trustworthy? Should we support them with our time and money?
As far as I concern, the sources of the primary critiques are unknown and unproven, so it makes me wonder whether these people just don't have anything else better to do a rainy day than trying to make people go against campaigns like this and make people in general suspicious toward anyone who claims to have good intentions. Yes, we all should be suspicious, more or less, and always ask ourselves what is the source of this information, why should I believe you and what are your arguments to prove you're right?
But on the other hand, in cases like this my biggest concern is how deeply cynical people actually are. This is not a video with numbers to a bank account asking for a donation, but a plea to the people to forward the video in order to spread the information. YES, they do inform the viewer that there are several ways to support the cause including buying items such as bracelets etc, or donating "a few dollars a month" which I believe is not a huge request, but most of all the ask you to sign the pledge and forward the video which is entirely for free, it doesn't cost you a dime, only a few extra minutes of your time, and people, time isn't literally money.
What they ask for is simply information to be spread, people to be educated and to be given a chance to have their own say about it. The International Criminal Court (ICC) issued on the 27th September 2005 a warrant of arrest for Joseph Kony, and without the KONY 2012 campaign people in general (with access to internet) wouldn't know this, they wouldn't know who he was nor what he have done. Even if Invisible Children used their donations for different causes than they claim to do, I still believed that they have accomplished something extraordinarily and exceptionally good; they have made people conscious.
Yes, most people just watch the video, get emotionally involved for 30 minutes, forward the video through posting it on Facebook, and then forget all about it. But you must not forget that out of all these millions of people, there are surely several who actually do engage and take action. There are those to get involved, take it to a higher ground and to a political level where action CAN be done, and for that we have Invisible Children to thank.
So to all of you who say that all of us who post this video on Facebook and ask our friends to watch it and pass it forward are "stupid and believe all we see and hear" I say find the reliable sources that prove Invisible Children and KONY 2012 being a scam, and I will remove the video from my Facebook. If you can find evidence that Kony does not exist and that these abductions never realy occurred, then I'll stop asking my friends to forward the video.
But until then I will continue to believe in this cause, not based on what Invisible Children do with their donations, but on the fact that people now KNOW what the heck is going on down there, that they are reacting and most of all that they are demanding their governments to do something about it. That is worth more than the exact plan behind it all, because if this can result in making even just one person's life better down there in Africa, we should be proud of ourselves, because one single person's life is worth 52 000 000 000 people's commitment. The more the better, but one is always a great achievement regardless of that one person's gender, color, sexual orientation or country of origin.
Wepages worthy of your time and interest:
International Criminal Court
KONY 2012
Invisible Children
Emotional crazy old lady
I have noticed one thing with myself lately. I have always been the "tough" girl regarding emotions. With that I mean the one who never ever cries to a movie, who doesn't really believe in the so called "everlasting love" and most of all; displaying emotions in public is just something I wouldn't do. Ever. Nah, my friends were always thinking I was wierd for being like this. I remember one time when I watched a movie with Esme and some more friends back when we were living at WSA. It was Remember Me, the one with Robert Pattinson (the sparkling vampire guy with the gigantic forehead), and I actually almost shed a tear at the end. And I didn't even watch the whole movie, I just kind of jumped in halfway. Esme was surprised to see me like that, as it was as far away as it gets from me at that moment. I was always the one advising my friends how to get past their mentally challenged ex-boyfriends, asshole-behaving dates and false friends. I was always the one raising one eyebrow when other people cried to movies, as I just didn't see the point in crying to something fictional. Sure, I had my moments as well, but they occured very rarely and not in public.
But all of a sudden, I was watching the movie with that sparkling guy whom I don't even like as I'm not a psychotic vampire fan, and I was emotionally touched. I almost shed a tear, and you could tell by looking at me. My eyebrows had that "I'm sad-shape" and my eyes were watering. When I look back at that moment I wonder whether that was the moment when I officially went from being that sane, controlled and not very emotional person, to becoming a "woman". I mean if you ask me I think it's bullshit that females just have to be so sensitive, love babies and plan their marriage. That's just not me. I have been called stone, heart-less and robot from people, and not just random people but people who knows me, based on the fact that I don't talk about emotions in first hand, I never ever think about getting married and I most definatley do not believe in destiny, love at first sight or romance.
I'd like to think that nothing has changed, but unfortunatley that is not the case. I, too often nowadays, find myself crying to movies, books, hell even commercials sometimes when you see poor black Africans with flies in their eyes. This concerns me. Am I turning into one of those women who desperatley search for a Valentine's date, lay at home and eat ice cream while watching Bridget Jones' Diary NOT because ice cream in fact tastes amazing and it is a good movie, but because the sugar rush helps the feeling of loneliness and the movie reminds me that "at least someone's in a worse position than myself". The day that happens, shoot my brains out!
Somewhere along the way I went from being young and naïve believing love could indeed last forever (well I suppose I never sincerely believed in it but I was far from where I am today), to thinking the so called "love" is just something holding you back, and finally that perhaps it's something worth giving a try again after all? Obviously there's no point in giving it a try when moving around the way I have since graduating high school. But now that I live in Växjö I could actually go for it, give it a try. BUT, as it looks now I will be spending my fourth semester on Iceland, January-June 2013. Oops, do I believe in long-distance? NO. And I'll be going to India my sixth semester for at least a couple of weeks, could me much longer. Oops, yet again no long distance. Shot down!
So how to I solve this? How the hell do I manage becoming a much more emotional person (still a realist though, I'm not a fucking cry baby or dreamer) and entertwine this new part of me into my life as it is today? How will I manage to open up to anyone, let them in? God knows. I sometimes doubt that I'll ever manage. But I guess when I finally meet someone worth the trouble, he'll stick around long enough for me to feel comfortable with it and I'll get there sooner or later. And regarding the crying and all the estrogen that apparently flows within me I can only say that I'm not a stone after all. I do have a heart, and I'm not a robot who thinks tears are a sign of leakage (HIMYM reference) and who literally runs as far away as possible whenever a guy mention his emotions or meeting his parents.
Regardless how I will end up and how this story ends, I still think it's ridiculous that men are supposed to be strong and withheld and women touchy feely. I'm a woman either way. All I hope for is that I don't end up like one of those lonely pathetic women, and that these years of "being a stone" don't even up in time and result in a few years of being overly emotional. But as I said before, the day that happens just shoot me, because that just wouldn't be me.
Over and out
But all of a sudden, I was watching the movie with that sparkling guy whom I don't even like as I'm not a psychotic vampire fan, and I was emotionally touched. I almost shed a tear, and you could tell by looking at me. My eyebrows had that "I'm sad-shape" and my eyes were watering. When I look back at that moment I wonder whether that was the moment when I officially went from being that sane, controlled and not very emotional person, to becoming a "woman". I mean if you ask me I think it's bullshit that females just have to be so sensitive, love babies and plan their marriage. That's just not me. I have been called stone, heart-less and robot from people, and not just random people but people who knows me, based on the fact that I don't talk about emotions in first hand, I never ever think about getting married and I most definatley do not believe in destiny, love at first sight or romance.
I'd like to think that nothing has changed, but unfortunatley that is not the case. I, too often nowadays, find myself crying to movies, books, hell even commercials sometimes when you see poor black Africans with flies in their eyes. This concerns me. Am I turning into one of those women who desperatley search for a Valentine's date, lay at home and eat ice cream while watching Bridget Jones' Diary NOT because ice cream in fact tastes amazing and it is a good movie, but because the sugar rush helps the feeling of loneliness and the movie reminds me that "at least someone's in a worse position than myself". The day that happens, shoot my brains out!
Somewhere along the way I went from being young and naïve believing love could indeed last forever (well I suppose I never sincerely believed in it but I was far from where I am today), to thinking the so called "love" is just something holding you back, and finally that perhaps it's something worth giving a try again after all? Obviously there's no point in giving it a try when moving around the way I have since graduating high school. But now that I live in Växjö I could actually go for it, give it a try. BUT, as it looks now I will be spending my fourth semester on Iceland, January-June 2013. Oops, do I believe in long-distance? NO. And I'll be going to India my sixth semester for at least a couple of weeks, could me much longer. Oops, yet again no long distance. Shot down!
So how to I solve this? How the hell do I manage becoming a much more emotional person (still a realist though, I'm not a fucking cry baby or dreamer) and entertwine this new part of me into my life as it is today? How will I manage to open up to anyone, let them in? God knows. I sometimes doubt that I'll ever manage. But I guess when I finally meet someone worth the trouble, he'll stick around long enough for me to feel comfortable with it and I'll get there sooner or later. And regarding the crying and all the estrogen that apparently flows within me I can only say that I'm not a stone after all. I do have a heart, and I'm not a robot who thinks tears are a sign of leakage (HIMYM reference) and who literally runs as far away as possible whenever a guy mention his emotions or meeting his parents.
Regardless how I will end up and how this story ends, I still think it's ridiculous that men are supposed to be strong and withheld and women touchy feely. I'm a woman either way. All I hope for is that I don't end up like one of those lonely pathetic women, and that these years of "being a stone" don't even up in time and result in a few years of being overly emotional. But as I said before, the day that happens just shoot me, because that just wouldn't be me.
Over and out
Bro
FUCK my life is boring!
Having that said I suppose an explanation is needed? My life is all about studies, studies and studies. Sometimes I wish I could drop out, pack a bag, sell all of my stuff and buy a random ticket and just see where I'd end up. What really sucks is not even having anything interesting to write about. No cool international friends living in the same building, major cultural experiences nor great memories for life. However, I am educating myself which I suppose isn't too bad.
I'm just looking forward to my upcoming USA trip this summer. I also want to climb a mountain this year, actually it's something I want to do every year from now on. Sitting on that peak is a high, an injection of adrenaline and a total sense of purpose. I need that soon, as my life at the moment is lacking those adrenaline rushes.
Hopefully an adventure is closing up. Soon I'll know about my exchange semester. Iceland, Italy, Ireland or England, time will tell!
Having that said I suppose an explanation is needed? My life is all about studies, studies and studies. Sometimes I wish I could drop out, pack a bag, sell all of my stuff and buy a random ticket and just see where I'd end up. What really sucks is not even having anything interesting to write about. No cool international friends living in the same building, major cultural experiences nor great memories for life. However, I am educating myself which I suppose isn't too bad.
I'm just looking forward to my upcoming USA trip this summer. I also want to climb a mountain this year, actually it's something I want to do every year from now on. Sitting on that peak is a high, an injection of adrenaline and a total sense of purpose. I need that soon, as my life at the moment is lacking those adrenaline rushes.
Hopefully an adventure is closing up. Soon I'll know about my exchange semester. Iceland, Italy, Ireland or England, time will tell!
Healthy
Today is my fourth day of working out. I did a 45 minute long cardio crosstraining session, which felt soooo good, and I worked my lats, back and biceps really hard which is great, I've missed the feeling of aching muscles after a good workout.
As for now I'm listening to Tracy Chapman, drinking tea, and reading course literature. I just finished a bowl of cottage cheese with natural nuts, and as a study snack I'm nibbling on dark chocolate with raspberry. I start working in 2,5 hours, so until then I'll relax and read.
Oh, by the way. When I left home for the gym earlier today a guy literally sprinted to hold up a door for me, how cute! What surprised me though is that he seemed to be Swedish, and holding up doors isn't really part of our culture at all, so it made me really glad that he did.
Buuuut, study now, then work. Ciao!
As for now I'm listening to Tracy Chapman, drinking tea, and reading course literature. I just finished a bowl of cottage cheese with natural nuts, and as a study snack I'm nibbling on dark chocolate with raspberry. I start working in 2,5 hours, so until then I'll relax and read.
Oh, by the way. When I left home for the gym earlier today a guy literally sprinted to hold up a door for me, how cute! What surprised me though is that he seemed to be Swedish, and holding up doors isn't really part of our culture at all, so it made me really glad that he did.
Buuuut, study now, then work. Ciao!
hero of war
Before I went to the gym earlier today..
Scared
I am still loving life just as much now as 45 minutes ago, but I just need to cleanse my head around one thing. Moving away.
By the end of this month I will know whether I'll be going abroad for one semester, and if so where I'll be going. I am so nervous, it's crazy really. I want to scream, run through the forest and beg to God that the Iceland spot is mine. But I'm just not sure. For some reason I've got a bad feeling about this. My guts tell me that Iceland is not mine for the taking, and I'll end up someplace cool, but without the absolutely great courses that are available only as far as I know) at the University of Iceland.
Well, this doesn't only regard that part. It's also that I'm scared of losing my friends. Many of my best friends from before I moved away the first time just don't seem that close anymore. Actually it hurts to say that I don't feel connected at all to most of them. At the same time, the bond to some of my friends has become much stronger, and of course not to forget about all the amazing people one gets to know when away.
I just want to be told that I am going to Reykjavik, Iceland. That would make my dreams come true. And I want to come back still having good friends here, whom I don't forget about and doesn't forget about me in return. Yes, it's so hard keeping it up from both sides, it just makes me sad. I value friendships so high, but some days I just question whether other people do that as well?
However what makes me happy is when I get back only to be met by a bunch of people who are just happy to see you. I love you so much, and I will never leave you.
No, for now I have to cross my fingers for getting my spot. I'm not sure of what I'll do if I don't get it. Will I still go to Italy, Ireland, England? Who knows? All I need to do is hang in there and wait. That's the worst part, waiting.
Life is still frigging amazing, though.
By the end of this month I will know whether I'll be going abroad for one semester, and if so where I'll be going. I am so nervous, it's crazy really. I want to scream, run through the forest and beg to God that the Iceland spot is mine. But I'm just not sure. For some reason I've got a bad feeling about this. My guts tell me that Iceland is not mine for the taking, and I'll end up someplace cool, but without the absolutely great courses that are available only as far as I know) at the University of Iceland.
Well, this doesn't only regard that part. It's also that I'm scared of losing my friends. Many of my best friends from before I moved away the first time just don't seem that close anymore. Actually it hurts to say that I don't feel connected at all to most of them. At the same time, the bond to some of my friends has become much stronger, and of course not to forget about all the amazing people one gets to know when away.
I just want to be told that I am going to Reykjavik, Iceland. That would make my dreams come true. And I want to come back still having good friends here, whom I don't forget about and doesn't forget about me in return. Yes, it's so hard keeping it up from both sides, it just makes me sad. I value friendships so high, but some days I just question whether other people do that as well?
However what makes me happy is when I get back only to be met by a bunch of people who are just happy to see you. I love you so much, and I will never leave you.
No, for now I have to cross my fingers for getting my spot. I'm not sure of what I'll do if I don't get it. Will I still go to Italy, Ireland, England? Who knows? All I need to do is hang in there and wait. That's the worst part, waiting.
Life is still frigging amazing, though.
It's the end of the world as we know it
Konbanwa!
It is Monday night (22.41pm) and I have just been cleaning and re-organizing my kitchen. Feels good!
So today I've reminded myself that life is so beautiful. Well, not that I needed to be reminded of that, but I came to think about that life is precious and should be appreciated. Cherish every moment, they say. Even though love hurts sometimes, life kick you in the head and friends stab you in your back, the good moments always seem to weigh it up.
Sure, we have our pride and honor to defend, but what do they really mean in the end if you live your life without really living it out, taking risks. If you like someone, tell her or him. Really, what is the worst thing that could happen? You could get rejected, and you know what? That is far better than never knowing what could've happened.
So for today I wish for everyone to stop for a second and think about how lucky you are, for whatever you have been blessed with. Health, love, brains, friends, children, good parents, whatever talent you may possess.
Cliché as it may be, today starting this afternoon, I loves life a little extra than usual.
Lot's of love.
It is Monday night (22.41pm) and I have just been cleaning and re-organizing my kitchen. Feels good!
So today I've reminded myself that life is so beautiful. Well, not that I needed to be reminded of that, but I came to think about that life is precious and should be appreciated. Cherish every moment, they say. Even though love hurts sometimes, life kick you in the head and friends stab you in your back, the good moments always seem to weigh it up.
Sure, we have our pride and honor to defend, but what do they really mean in the end if you live your life without really living it out, taking risks. If you like someone, tell her or him. Really, what is the worst thing that could happen? You could get rejected, and you know what? That is far better than never knowing what could've happened.
So for today I wish for everyone to stop for a second and think about how lucky you are, for whatever you have been blessed with. Health, love, brains, friends, children, good parents, whatever talent you may possess.
Cliché as it may be, today starting this afternoon, I loves life a little extra than usual.
Lot's of love.
01.22 am, dinner time
Today I've been an extraordinarily good grown up person.
First of all, I slept till 1pm. I'm not even quite sure of how that happened, but I simply wasn't able to wake up even though I had three alarms set on my phone plus a pretty loud clock. I also had my first meal of the day at 5pm, which consisted of cottage cheese with nuts and dried fruits, plus two crisp bread sandwiches with cream cheese.
Since then I had dinner; muesli and milk plus 5 cups of tea. Time is now closer to 1.30 in the morning, and I am making pasta with pesto. Tomorrow I WILL eat at normal times, so that I won't have to feel hungry at this hour.
First of all, I slept till 1pm. I'm not even quite sure of how that happened, but I simply wasn't able to wake up even though I had three alarms set on my phone plus a pretty loud clock. I also had my first meal of the day at 5pm, which consisted of cottage cheese with nuts and dried fruits, plus two crisp bread sandwiches with cream cheese.
Since then I had dinner; muesli and milk plus 5 cups of tea. Time is now closer to 1.30 in the morning, and I am making pasta with pesto. Tomorrow I WILL eat at normal times, so that I won't have to feel hungry at this hour.
The story of the unromantic romance that killed the romantic romance
Argh, I am single and Valentine's Day is now officially over in Sweden. Finally? Well, I can't say that it has affected my day in particular, but since it seems to affect so many others it's more or less impossible not to notice. Right?
However, I thought I'd make a comparison of my VD 2011 and 2012.
2011
As I was sick on this very "special" day last year I quickly decided to fulfil the myth of the pathetic and sad single woman. I also worked the night before, so I slept in, went to the supermarket and bought all kinds of crap (pop corn, ice cream, soda, garlic bread and so on) and went back home and crashed in the couch. I then spent the entire day and night in my couch eating very unhealthy stuff and feeling quite unsatisfied with my life. I actually was asked out for a Valentine's date by Mark, my best friend in Christchurch, which I turned down due to my scepticism of fake holidays. It also felt kind of unfair to him as he could have made something more useful out of VD than going out for dinner with a friend, so I stayed at home, sick and strangely satisfied combined with unsatisfied. I suppose the most unsatisfying part was being away from a certain person, not the whole "being alone at VD".
2012
I spent the whole day of this years Valentine's Day studying, much more productive aye! However I'm getting sick I believe, and I've been wearing the very attractive combination of sweatshirt, sweatpants, hat and training shoes. Sexy! After studying I went to work to pimp up the bar in the name of love, as Stallarna had a special Valentine's decoration last night. I stayed for a few hours and hung out with the people, and then went home. And now here I am sitting on my bed writing about not very interesting things. I should also mention that I've been eating chocolate, consuming alcohol and I am currently considering watching Lord of the Rings. Hooray!
Oh well, are you inspired by my VD's? If not, hear me as I rant about this cliché non-original stupid day:
First of all, in Sweden ROMANCE IS DEAD! Guys just don't hold the door for girls, men don't nicely ask women out for a dinner and you never have a bartender pouring you a drink saying "it's from the guy over there". Just as much as women don't make their boyfriends breakfast every morning, they stop shaving their legs about a month or so after they started dating and they're not innocent in that cute way any longer.
NO, men only pay for themselves, and if they don't they sure expect to go more round so that the girl can take ne next OR they certainly expect something else in return (you bastards). They come hours late to the date and ask you to "buy something in the cafeteria" meanwhile you wait for several hours for that stupid lunch date. Men don't formally ask you out on proper dates, they get you drunk at the club hoping to score. They only like the girl when she's playing hard to get, and they don't know how to appreciate innocence and feelings.
And girls, you're not much better. You complain when men don't pay for you, but when they actually offer to do so you refuse to let them, because that would mean that you can't take care of yourselves. But this doesn't mean that you don't want them to pay. I have also heard a lot of complaints from my male friends that girls only like guys who treat them like shit. As soon as a man starts caring and loving his girl more intensely, she'll break up with him saying "I need more space". I'm not quite sure of what I should say about that, but I'm actually not surprised at all, and I've seen a few examples like that myself.
So yes, the classic romance is dead. Sure, there is a modern version of romance which includes getting wasted on tequila shots, waking up next to a stranger and sneaking out 7am while trying to figure out from which way you got there. I'm not even kidding, that is how people do it these days and doesn't it just SUCK? I sure think it does.
I bet that if this was the 50's I'd be psyched about Valentine's Day. I'd be sending love letters and poems, and fantasising about the one true love of my life. But the 2012 version of romance is so far away from the romantic romance that it makes me want to puke. The unromantic romance consist of buying your darling a 50 cent worth rose, together with a card and a box of chocolates. "THEY STILL COMBINE THOSE TWO? THE BIGGEST CLICHÉ OF ALL TIME?" you're probably thinking, and yes, unfortunatley that is true.
Going to the movies, out for a dinner and perhaps buying your girlfriend new lingerie is a classic unromantic romance gesture. But really, new underwear probably mean in most cases that "girl, I love you but your panties are getting kind of boring and worn out so here's some new for you (me)" or "oh is that medium size, I was sure they were small (you're getting kinda too fat for the old one's, tubby)".
Well, okay. I exaggerated. Kinda.
No. My American Chris is a very romantic guy. He's the kind of guy who would ask a girl out for a proper date, take her to a nice restaurant and treat her like a princess. My English friend Mark is another very romantic and amazing friend of mine, who spent at least 1,5 hours driving through a whole city searching for PS I love you that I in particular wanted to see with him, and we weren't even dating! And my sister who could put a spell on any man just by hanging out with him for an hour just by being insanely flirtatious, that noone actually dare to be anymore.
And what do I have to say for myself?
I am a VERY unromantic person. I guess I have my moments, but in the end I'm a coward when it comes to "letting people in" and sharing my life with whoever I may be "dating" or whatever it's called nowadays. I never expect a man to act romantic and I scarcely do it myself. Romance is dead, and I am one of the reasons for that to have happened. However I have been thinking about my unromantic life, and whether I should actually drop the act and just take a shot, go for it? Well, I'm at least open to give it a try.
But, you may be wondering why an unromantic person as myself would find it suitable to write about this? Well, as opposed to all the hypocrites I don't pretend to know something about romance in days like VD when in fact I am no more romantic than anyone else, simple as that.
Well. I'm not actually sure if any of this makes sense, and I sure as hell won't proof read it as I'm very tired and will watch Lord of the Rings as soon as I have posted this. Thanks for letting me put my aggrevated cynicism into words.
Lot's of unromantic love
Tankar om hemlängtan
Nu är klockan kvart i ett på natten. Jag skulle precis ta och stänga ner musik och sånt för att lägga mig när jag såg att Uncle John skrev på Facebook. Hans meddelande, som så mycket annat, väckte saknaden inom mig och sorgen var ett faktum. Sorgen över att vara så långt borta. Det gör ont i hjärtat, som om någon stuckit en kniv i mig. Som om jag bara ville ha en enda sak i hela världen, och den togs ifrån mig. Som om den enda kärleken i mitt liv försvann. Som om jag inte hörde hemme någon annanstans.
Det må låta överdrivet, men det är en bit som fattas. En stor sådan. Det är något jag bär med mig var dag och saknar var sekund. Jag trivs i Växjö, det är här jag är bosatt. Jag gillar Skåne, det är där jag kommer ifrån. Men jag älskar Auckland och Nya Zeeland, och det är där jag hör hemma.
Jag vill inte gnälla. Inte heller tycka synd om mig själv eller söka sympati. Men fan vad detta slog hårt, meddelandet jag fick på Facebook. Tänk att en sån sak kan riva upp så djupa sår och påminna om allt jag lämnade bakom mig, om allt jag går miste om nu, och om att jag inte är där jag ska vara.
Fy fan vad jag ogillar att känna såhär. Hur kan man bli förälskad i ett land, en stad, en slags atmosfär jag aldrig upplevt någon annanstans? Hur kan man sakna en gata, en hamn, och en byggnad? Hur kan ett bra liv på en bra plats genast rasa och verka värdelöst i jämförelse med en annan?
Hur kan en känsla av lycka kollapsa av en påminnelse om att gräset är så fan mycket grönare på andra sidan?
Det må låta överdrivet, men det är en bit som fattas. En stor sådan. Det är något jag bär med mig var dag och saknar var sekund. Jag trivs i Växjö, det är här jag är bosatt. Jag gillar Skåne, det är där jag kommer ifrån. Men jag älskar Auckland och Nya Zeeland, och det är där jag hör hemma.
Jag vill inte gnälla. Inte heller tycka synd om mig själv eller söka sympati. Men fan vad detta slog hårt, meddelandet jag fick på Facebook. Tänk att en sån sak kan riva upp så djupa sår och påminna om allt jag lämnade bakom mig, om allt jag går miste om nu, och om att jag inte är där jag ska vara.
Fy fan vad jag ogillar att känna såhär. Hur kan man bli förälskad i ett land, en stad, en slags atmosfär jag aldrig upplevt någon annanstans? Hur kan man sakna en gata, en hamn, och en byggnad? Hur kan ett bra liv på en bra plats genast rasa och verka värdelöst i jämförelse med en annan?
Hur kan en känsla av lycka kollapsa av en påminnelse om att gräset är så fan mycket grönare på andra sidan?
20 snart 70
Allt eftersom tiden rullar på här i lilla bubblan campus i Växjö växer jag upp alltmer.
Med att växa upp menar jag inte att jag blir vuxen och ansvarsfull. Jag liksom hoppade över den biten och gick direkt till att vara gammal. Kanske är det mitt alter ego; å ena sidan är jag tjugoåringen Louise som inte städar så ofta som anses nödvändigt och anser (för tillfället) ris med soya och pasta med pesto vara en varierad kostcirkel. Å andra sidan är jag Elsa sjuttio bast, som flippar lite när jag missar nyhetsmorgonen, blir nästan mer exhalterad över ett nytt te än över nya skor, och som avstår en utekväll för att det är jobbigt att ta sig till själva utestället och tillbaka (hela vägen in till stan ju!).
Jag tror att det är en sån där fas som de flesta går igenom då och då. Ni vet den när man "tar tag i livet", "upptäcker nya sidor av sig själv" och "vidgar sina vyer". Förutom att jag inte riktigt gör det. Jag är bara gammal ibland. Värre än så är att ibland när jag festar är det mer för att "upprätthålla" min unga ålder och faktiskt passa på nu när man kan. När man är trettiofem kan man inte vakna upp klockan fem på eftermiddagen fortfarande full efter gårdagens (snarare morgon- och förmiddagens) bravader för att slänga sig med huvudet först i toalettstolen och försöka fokusera på att "om tre dagar när jag är nykter igen kommer jag att skratta åt detta". Nej, självklart måste man omfamna sådana ögonblick nu när man kan, för de kommer att saknas senare i livet.
Dock vill jag påpeka att jag alltså just nu är inne i en så kallad "torrperiod", alltså ganska nykter sådan, som innebär att jag är den tråkiga i klassen som alltid jobbar när de festar, men festar när normalt folk sover, dvs påbörjar festen klockan 5 på morgonen när normalt folk går till sängs. Dock är det på den tidpunkten de härligaste festerna uppstår, och jag vill inte för allt smör i Småland byta bort morgonfesterna.
Men som det ser ut nu sitter jag med en kopp (nyköpt!) kanelte med raggstrumpor på fötterna och Glenmark i bakgrunden. Hemma har jag dessutom mintchoklad som jag var busig nog att köpa. Kanske borde jag passa på att köpa en guidad bussresa runt i Småland, köpa hem garn och skicka kort till mina icke-existerande barnbarn? När jag ändå är igång på det spåret kan jag sätta mig på en stadsbuss och äta ett äpple med hjälp av en liten fickkniv eftersom löständerna inte kan bita till riktigt där, klaga på ungdomarna och hänvisa till dem som "gangstrar" och skicka en insändare till Smålandsposten om att jag är rädd för att gå utanför mitt hem efter fem på eftermiddagen för då blir man faktiskt rånadmördadvåldtagenochstyckad. I ordning.
Istället för att leva vilt så håller jag mig inomhus, kollar på bingolotto och försöker lista ut vilken av alla mina tesorter som faktiskt smakar bäst.
Med vänliga hälsningar,
Elsa, 70
Med att växa upp menar jag inte att jag blir vuxen och ansvarsfull. Jag liksom hoppade över den biten och gick direkt till att vara gammal. Kanske är det mitt alter ego; å ena sidan är jag tjugoåringen Louise som inte städar så ofta som anses nödvändigt och anser (för tillfället) ris med soya och pasta med pesto vara en varierad kostcirkel. Å andra sidan är jag Elsa sjuttio bast, som flippar lite när jag missar nyhetsmorgonen, blir nästan mer exhalterad över ett nytt te än över nya skor, och som avstår en utekväll för att det är jobbigt att ta sig till själva utestället och tillbaka (hela vägen in till stan ju!).
Jag tror att det är en sån där fas som de flesta går igenom då och då. Ni vet den när man "tar tag i livet", "upptäcker nya sidor av sig själv" och "vidgar sina vyer". Förutom att jag inte riktigt gör det. Jag är bara gammal ibland. Värre än så är att ibland när jag festar är det mer för att "upprätthålla" min unga ålder och faktiskt passa på nu när man kan. När man är trettiofem kan man inte vakna upp klockan fem på eftermiddagen fortfarande full efter gårdagens (snarare morgon- och förmiddagens) bravader för att slänga sig med huvudet först i toalettstolen och försöka fokusera på att "om tre dagar när jag är nykter igen kommer jag att skratta åt detta". Nej, självklart måste man omfamna sådana ögonblick nu när man kan, för de kommer att saknas senare i livet.
Dock vill jag påpeka att jag alltså just nu är inne i en så kallad "torrperiod", alltså ganska nykter sådan, som innebär att jag är den tråkiga i klassen som alltid jobbar när de festar, men festar när normalt folk sover, dvs påbörjar festen klockan 5 på morgonen när normalt folk går till sängs. Dock är det på den tidpunkten de härligaste festerna uppstår, och jag vill inte för allt smör i Småland byta bort morgonfesterna.
Men som det ser ut nu sitter jag med en kopp (nyköpt!) kanelte med raggstrumpor på fötterna och Glenmark i bakgrunden. Hemma har jag dessutom mintchoklad som jag var busig nog att köpa. Kanske borde jag passa på att köpa en guidad bussresa runt i Småland, köpa hem garn och skicka kort till mina icke-existerande barnbarn? När jag ändå är igång på det spåret kan jag sätta mig på en stadsbuss och äta ett äpple med hjälp av en liten fickkniv eftersom löständerna inte kan bita till riktigt där, klaga på ungdomarna och hänvisa till dem som "gangstrar" och skicka en insändare till Smålandsposten om att jag är rädd för att gå utanför mitt hem efter fem på eftermiddagen för då blir man faktiskt rånadmördadvåldtagenochstyckad. I ordning.
Istället för att leva vilt så håller jag mig inomhus, kollar på bingolotto och försöker lista ut vilken av alla mina tesorter som faktiskt smakar bäst.
Med vänliga hälsningar,
Elsa, 70
Det började med Spotify
För någon månad sen beslöt jag mig för att följa strömmen och skaffa ett konto hos Spotify. Jag tror i all ärlighet inte att datorn har varit avstängd mer än tre gånger sedan dess, med resultat av att den är överhettad, seg och allmänt provocerande. Ja, jag vill slänga ut den genom fönstret för att sedan springa ut på gården och hoppa på den tills blott stoft återstår. Det är så jag brukar vilja hantera ilska. Ibland höjer jag en knuten näve mot den som ett hot, i hopp om att den ska först vinken och börja fungera igen. Men den bara fortsätter i samma hjulspår, och jag sänker näven igen ungefär samtidigt som jag inser att 1: en dator är inget levande ting och kan därmed inte fårstå sådana gester och 2: våld löser inga problem.
I skrivande stund sitter jag i min säng klockan halv fem på eftermiddagen, lyssnar på gammal men nyupptäckt musik och sneglar på ugnen som är igång, men utom räckhåll och därmed för långt bort för att stänga av. Jag har lämnat sängen två gånger idag, den ena gången för att slänga in vitlöksbröd i ugnen och den andra för att hämta dem. När jag sedan kom tillbaka insåg jag att jag i all hast glömt att stänga av den. Istället för att gå de 2 metrarna och vrida på knappen har jag i två timmar funderat över om ugnsplåtarna hade smält om ugnen aldrig hade stängts av.
När jag blickar ut över min lägenhet ser jag ett kaos. På golvet ligger papper, kläder, böcker och mappar. På borde står en tom Jack Daniels flaska fylld med sedlar, tre teförpackningar, papper, skolvöcker och lite annat smått och gott. Ungefär 40 gånger om dagen tänker jag att jag borde ta ett ryck och städa. Men studietider som det är hinner jag fakiskt inte. Ungefär lika mycket som jag inte hinner med att träna 2-3 gånger i veckan, läsa en icke-kursrelaterad bok eller koka kaffe hemma var morgon.
Istället stannar jag kvar på jobbet tills sju på morgonen, somnar åtta och vaknar klockan ett på eftermiddagen och stannar i sängen och funderar över livet. Just nu befinner jag mig i ett mentalt tillstånd som ligger mitt emellan produktivitet och apati: jag funderar på vad jag ska plugga just nu. Ska jag fixa mina powerpoint slides tills på måndag, lära mig de sista japanska tecknen, eller läsa på till tentan på fredag? Att tänka på vad jag ska plugga ger i sig känslan av att vara produktiv, när jag egentligen fortfarande sitter orörlig i min säng med ett tomt stirr in i väggen, och en blick mot den förmodade överhettade ugnen då och då.
Mitt i all denna överväldigande intelligenta process hörs musik från min långsamma och 100 grader varma laptop som jag så vackert döpt Silla-Sven 2. Håkan Hellströms förtvivlade och uppgivna röst, följt av en förförande John Mayer och de så uppfriskande Flogging Molly. Spellistan heter Merlot, och det inte helt utan anledning. Först döpte jag den till "när man är på det viset" eller något i den stilen, men bytte för att inte låta som en utav de så många ensamma och sorgliga singlar som sitter hemma en lördagskväll och sjunger med i Adele's Someone like you.
Därför fann jag Merlot vara ett bättre namn. Allting är ju accepterat med alkohol inblandat? En salig blandning av förtvivlade kärlekslåtar, vacker rock och poetiska texter om vackra människor gör dagar som dessa, då man sitter met sitt blanka stirr i sin säng. Men jag vill med all ärlighet påstå att hade de inte varit för denna listan så hade jag inte suttit här just nu. Kanske hade jag slängt mig in i duschen, läst en bok eller räddat en hemlös. Musiken, kategoriserad efter vilke humör man är på, håller tillbaks mig och fångar mig i just det tillståndet. Sätter jag igång Merlot-listan kommer jag att förbli en sorglig singel i all evighet, och jag kommer att hittas död på mitt mjuka mattgolv i min lägenhet när jag är 57, halvt uppäten av mina 38 hungriga katter.
Ja, jag skyller helt och hållet på Spotify.
I skrivande stund sitter jag i min säng klockan halv fem på eftermiddagen, lyssnar på gammal men nyupptäckt musik och sneglar på ugnen som är igång, men utom räckhåll och därmed för långt bort för att stänga av. Jag har lämnat sängen två gånger idag, den ena gången för att slänga in vitlöksbröd i ugnen och den andra för att hämta dem. När jag sedan kom tillbaka insåg jag att jag i all hast glömt att stänga av den. Istället för att gå de 2 metrarna och vrida på knappen har jag i två timmar funderat över om ugnsplåtarna hade smält om ugnen aldrig hade stängts av.
När jag blickar ut över min lägenhet ser jag ett kaos. På golvet ligger papper, kläder, böcker och mappar. På borde står en tom Jack Daniels flaska fylld med sedlar, tre teförpackningar, papper, skolvöcker och lite annat smått och gott. Ungefär 40 gånger om dagen tänker jag att jag borde ta ett ryck och städa. Men studietider som det är hinner jag fakiskt inte. Ungefär lika mycket som jag inte hinner med att träna 2-3 gånger i veckan, läsa en icke-kursrelaterad bok eller koka kaffe hemma var morgon.
Istället stannar jag kvar på jobbet tills sju på morgonen, somnar åtta och vaknar klockan ett på eftermiddagen och stannar i sängen och funderar över livet. Just nu befinner jag mig i ett mentalt tillstånd som ligger mitt emellan produktivitet och apati: jag funderar på vad jag ska plugga just nu. Ska jag fixa mina powerpoint slides tills på måndag, lära mig de sista japanska tecknen, eller läsa på till tentan på fredag? Att tänka på vad jag ska plugga ger i sig känslan av att vara produktiv, när jag egentligen fortfarande sitter orörlig i min säng med ett tomt stirr in i väggen, och en blick mot den förmodade överhettade ugnen då och då.
Mitt i all denna överväldigande intelligenta process hörs musik från min långsamma och 100 grader varma laptop som jag så vackert döpt Silla-Sven 2. Håkan Hellströms förtvivlade och uppgivna röst, följt av en förförande John Mayer och de så uppfriskande Flogging Molly. Spellistan heter Merlot, och det inte helt utan anledning. Först döpte jag den till "när man är på det viset" eller något i den stilen, men bytte för att inte låta som en utav de så många ensamma och sorgliga singlar som sitter hemma en lördagskväll och sjunger med i Adele's Someone like you.
Därför fann jag Merlot vara ett bättre namn. Allting är ju accepterat med alkohol inblandat? En salig blandning av förtvivlade kärlekslåtar, vacker rock och poetiska texter om vackra människor gör dagar som dessa, då man sitter met sitt blanka stirr i sin säng. Men jag vill med all ärlighet påstå att hade de inte varit för denna listan så hade jag inte suttit här just nu. Kanske hade jag slängt mig in i duschen, läst en bok eller räddat en hemlös. Musiken, kategoriserad efter vilke humör man är på, håller tillbaks mig och fångar mig i just det tillståndet. Sätter jag igång Merlot-listan kommer jag att förbli en sorglig singel i all evighet, och jag kommer att hittas död på mitt mjuka mattgolv i min lägenhet när jag är 57, halvt uppäten av mina 38 hungriga katter.
Ja, jag skyller helt och hållet på Spotify.
