I’M GOING SAILING!
(In case you can’t tell I’m somewhat excited about it.)
Voice in my head: Mikael Wiehe – “Kom och sett deg her intill meg lilla venn, så ska jag berätta hur det er och hur det kjänns. Og om du lovar meg at fråga hur jag har det, så ska jag lova deg at fråga samma sak.” (Over and over and over and over… ‘scuse the spelling, btw, my Swedish is a bit wobbly.)
So, what did I do this weekend apart from catching the sun? Well…
Girls’ weekend out. What do you think we did? We shopped. And how. We also ate good food. Plenty of it. And we had a few drinks. Or more than a few. And we stared at boys. Seriously. It’s a wonder we didn’t get ourselves into trouble.
By the time we got to Stockholm and the hostel (Pensionat Oden, lovely place) Thursday evening we were all starving. As we’d had tips from two separate people that Akkurat in Hornsgatan was a good place for whisky, and I had a vague recollection of the website mentioning food, and we realised that our hostel was also on Hornsgatan, we walked there. In fact, we practically ran there. The food was very good, though we barely had time to taste it. The menu was even better. The others laughed at me because I spent the first hour, and much of the time following that, too, simply drooling over the list of whiskies (it’s available on the website, so you can go see why). Ir got mad at me because I ended up talking to the guy she’d been eyeing up – it was completely unintentional, I swear, he just happened to sit by the only open spot along the bar when I went up to order a Linkwood and he obviously knew something about whisky. I must admit he was rather good looking, but, you know, it’s me we’re talking about here, I don’t chat up men in bars. Though Ak and Ir don’t know me well enough to know that so that was my reputation shot for the weekend. Quite amusing, really.
Friday… Well, we went shopping, didn’t we? We walked through Gamla Stan and arrived at the castle just at the time when the changing of the guards took place, which was pretty cool. Even more cool, in a one up for Norway kind of way, was the very obvious fact that the guards at the Swedish castle are positively sloppy compared to the Norwegian Garde (HM Kongens Garde). They couldn’t even keep pace properly. We all had attacks of fierce national pride, but took lots of pictures anyway. Well, you know. Men in uniform, right? And you can’t deny that it was a pretty spectacular sight, as the relief guard actually comes riding in and then they change over and the guard going off duty rides off on the same horses.
A little later we passed the Opera House, and I suggested we check the programme and ask if they did “last-minute” tickets at all. They did, and so at half past six we returned and aquired seats for La Boheme. We’d planned on grabbing a burger or something if we did get tickets and eat out properly if we didn’t, but in search of a burger we found a likely-looking Italian restaurant and gave in to temptation. I don’t think I would ever have planned to eat one-and-a-half calzone (Ir didn’t finish hers) and drink a third of a bottle of red (lovely wine with an easy name: Piane de Maggio) in less than twenty minutes, but it turned out to be possible. The opera was enchanting, though the supporting soprano was better than the lead – at the very beginning I thought: “This was a bad idea, I am way too tired, I won’t be able to enjoy it and it will seem to last for ages.” But in fact it seemed to last for about fifteen minutes. I couldn’t believe it when the interval arrived (and no, I didn’t fall asleep, I was quite definitely awake and enjoying myself the whole time). I should definitely go to the opera more often.
Following all that culture we ended up at Akkurat again, and AK and I gave Ir lessons in how to flirt (remember, I’d established myself as an expert the night before – in any case, if you know a little about body language you can pretty much make it up as you go along). Nothing came of it, though, and we all went home to sleep around one instead of partying the night away.
Ir wanted to do more shopping Saturday, whereas AK and I really just wanted to potter about, so we split up. Unfortunately, pottering about in shops such as Indiska and “The English Shop” does tend to mean you end up shopping anyway, but never mind. Towards lunchtime we met up with the guy that had offered to sort out blind dates as he’d offered to give us a little bit of a tour in lieu of the non-appearance of the promised dates (which was just as well, really). And a tour was what we had, though I must admit I was the most grateful for the last stop on the tour, when he left us (he had a dinner-party to attend) outside The Bull and Bear Inn, which we promptly entered. An “English” pub with Stowford Press on tap, excellent food and a good whisky selection – what more can you ask? I could happily have stayed, but we had planned to “go out” properly, so after a few pints we headed back to the hostel to prettify ourselves and check out the nightlife on Söder. It had it’s ups and downs…
Down: The Half Way Inn – a scottish pub that did an ok Irish Coffee, but was otherwise pretty boring.
Up: A curry house nearby with delicious food (they did chicken kashmiri, which is unusual).
Down: Snaps – a nightclub sort of thing. We watched some people play blackjack, which was interesting, but decided that a combination of excessive heat and humidity and people smoking something that definitely wasn’t tobacco would not make for a good combination in the long run, so we moved on.
On the level: The Old Beefeater – on the upside, they had cider and we were chatted up by several people, including a woman, on the downside none of the people who chatted us up seemed interesting enough for us to want to extend the conversation – including the woman.
And then I went home to sleep, being, by that time, pretty much cidered out, and left the others to scaring Swedes.
And Sunday… I’ll tell you about Sunday later, I really need to get going now.
Found a new, potentially interesting service today. Blogmatcher allows you to enter the URL of a blog you read (or your own) and gets you a list of blogs that link to the same things, with scores, so it’s basically an alternative attempt at “similar interests” blog search. Most of my hits at the moment are people who also link to movable type and blogwise and such, which isn’t as interesting, but I’ll drop by occasionally and check the results.
I started my day on a combined diet of Michael Moore‘s Stupid White Men and Mikael Wiehe’s 30 Sånger. They’ve got things in common besides their first name. I had a potentially embarrassing moment at the bus stop when my eyes teared up because I listened properly to Titanic (andraklasspassagerarens sista sång) – luckily the tears didn’t quite make it over the edge. I don’t suppose it would matter if I stood silently crying at the bus stop, I don’t normally mind being stared at anyway, but people might get concerned and ask me what the matter was, or worry about me for the rest of the day wishing they had asked (which is probably what I would have done, had I seen someone else crying), so I’m just as glad it didn’t come to that. Good song, though.
In the news this morning: There has been very little rainfall on Islay lately, so that the water reserves are even lower than usual – the Islay distilleries have been contending with the wagaries of rainfall for decades. Unless the levels in the reserves rise significantly, several of the distilleries will have to limit their production rate. It just so happens that my favourite distillery already has problems producing sufficient stock to meet demand from other reasons besides water shortage. If you happen to be of a praying disposition, would you mind putting in a good word for a rainy summer on Islay, please?
Today’s best link, though, is to a country duet of an unusual kind. Be careful who’s watching when you click this. Oh, and you’ll really need the sound to be on, so be careful who’s listening, too.
Voice in my head: Prefab Sprout – Cruel
For now, this or that, though:
1. Packrat or minimalist?
Packrat still.
2. Computer: desktop or laptop?
Both.
3. Seashore or mountains?
Both. I live in Norway, you know…
4. Carpeting or bare floors?
Bare floors. I hate carpets. Rugs are fine, for softness and warmth, but carpets are horrid.
5. Drinking water: bottled or tap?
Whatever’s most practical. At home I drink tap water, if I’m out and about I buy bottled, but refill it from the tap if I have the chance.
6. Shopping websites: eBay or Amazon?
Amazon. I have yet to buy anything at eBay. I don’t buy used items at Amazon either, though, for used books I go to ABE.
7. Cute little kitties or big scary tigers?
Both, but the tigers, definitely.
8. Front door or back door?
I don’t have a back door. If I did, it would be pretty useless, as it would have to sit in the wall on the fourth floor.
9. Lots of jewelry, or little/none?
None, a little (one necklace or bracelet) very occasionally.
10. Thought-provoking question of the week: At the last minute, you obtain tickets to an event you’re dying to attend. However, you have to work that day! Do you ask the boss for the time off, or just call in sick?
I ask for time off, or, rather, inform them I’m taking time off. If there’s a reason why that would be a problem (important meeting, for example) I would probably not go anyway, because I’d be too concerned about the meeting myself.
I have been getting increasing numbers of the “Nigerian scam” spam mails recently. This morning, for example, I got one from a nice gentleman called Dr. Ken Amobi (am I the only one to think that “Amobi” has an unfortunate ring? It’s a little to similar to amoeba, somehow. The good man can’t help his name, though) who addresses me as “My dear”, which I find somewhat presumptious.
Does anyone still fall for these things? It’s tempting to answer with spoof letters to see how far they are willing to go, but this has been done before, so I will refrain.
Can you see a red thread? I can’t.
1. Who are your favorite cartoon characters?
Wiley Coyote and the Roadrunner, Crazy Cat, uhm, I used to watch a lot of cartoons but I seem to have gone off them. I do wish Crazy Cat were on occasionally, though, it’s been years since I saw that.
2. Have you yet reached the point where you feel like you are from a different generation than today’s youth?
Oh yes. I feel very young a lot of the time, but put a couple of teenagers on the seat behind me on the bus and I feel positively middle aged.
3. What was the first Music Video that really impressed you? What made it so amazing?
I can’t really remember which was the first, but a very good early one (early for me, that is) was the one for that Pet Shop Boys song… You know: “My heart starts missing a beat, my heart starts missing a beat, every time, a-a-ah, every time, a-a-ah” and so on.
4. Name a song and an era that comes to mind when you hear the word “Retro.”
I think of recent songs that have a “retro” feel when you say retro, not an era gone by. So… that “just another lemon three” song, I guess, is an example.
5. How has your life been affected by HIV or AIDS?
Has it been affected? Hm. Well, I guess casual, unprotected sex does not seem to me to be a good idea, but then I don’t think it would have seemed like a very good idea to me even if it weren’t for HIV/AIDS…
6. Yesterday in the USA, we celebrated “Mothers Day,” a day where we honor the mothers in our lives. If you were on a “special day” nominating committee, who or what would you recommend that we create a day in honor of?
I think we have ever so slightly too many special days as it is. Couldn’t we just try to be better at telling each other how great we think we are on all the ordinary days instead?
7. Last week, we have several Tornadoes tore through many neighborhoods, destroying homes and devastating the lives of the residents. How would you feel if you lost every possession you owned? Or would it matter? How would you go on with your life?
Would it matter? Yes, of course. Would I be devastated? Probably, for a while, anyway. Would I pick myself up and keep going? Definitely. I may be a hoarder, but that’s because I’m so bad at getting rid of things. In some ways it would be a relief to have a clean slate and start again (I’d build up a new collection of stuff soon enough). The only things I’d be really, really upset to lose are things like photographs and old letters.
Voice in my head: well, it’s obviously that stupid lemon tree song now, isn’t it?
You should see this weather. I mean, I know I put in an order, but holy moly, I didn’t actually expect it to work quite this spectacularly. The sky has been an absolute clear blue for three days. The sun has been out and smiling. The only “problem” is there’s quite a bit of wind, but in a way that’s a good thing as it’s kept the temperature comfortable for walking about in.
Stockholm is great. It’s not only a beautiful city (all this water everywhere, all this sunshine, all these elegant and well-kept(!) buildings), but my company is great and we’re having such a good time (well, I am, the other two may be pretending).
It’s a good thing it’s Sunday today, as cash has been disappearing as if gone with the wind. I don’t care, though. In fact, I won’t think of it today, I’ll think of it tomorrow.
Ok, I’m off. Gonna go see if the national gallery is open.
Voice in my head: Shakira still, who’s switched to Underneath Your Clothes
Ok, so it’s Sunday. I was busy Friday…
1. Would you consider yourself an organized person? Why or why not?
Kinda, sorta, dunno. I can seem very disorganised and haphazard, but I’ve normally got pretty much complete control of the details and all.
2. Do you keep some type of planner, organizer, calendar, etc. with you, and do you use it regularly?
I’ve got a filofax (or an A-plan, rather, but it’s the same difference) – which I use to double-check dates, but I normally keep most of them in my head anyway.
3. Would you say that your desk is organized right now?
This one certainly is, I’m in an internet café. My desk at home, however, is in a constant state of chaos (the components of the chaos keeps changing, but the level is pretty constant).
4. Do you alphabetize CDs, books, and DVDs, or does it not matter?
I alphabetize, or organise according to some other system. The DVDs are a little less rigidly organized, they’re just roughly grouped according to genre. CDs are alphabetised. Books are subdivided into categories (cooking, travel, children’s, 17th C. literature etc.) and then alphabetised within the groups (if the group’s big enough to warrant it).
5. What’s the hardest thing you’ve ever had to organize?
The current project at work, I guess, though I had help there.
Voice in my head: Shakira – Objection (just passed a shop where they were playing it)
Hello. My name is Robin and I am a compulsive proofreader.
I can’t help it – I am the sort of person who goes through the world with a mental red pencil and underlines words, inserts carets and various other symbols (some of her own invention) and suggests alternative words, phrases or entire paragraphs. I am this (this: || ) close to becoming a vandal, because there is a piece of grafitti just across from my bus stop (hence I have to look at it every day) which is just shouting for someone to come along with a can of red spray paint: “or dreams are dieying all the time”… With such a reckless abundance of vowels in “dieying” you’d think they could have splashed out on a u for “our”, wouldn’t you? This is how bad it gets: I frequently make corrections that no one but myself will ever see to documents at work while reading them, because correcting mistakes as I read consumes less time and energy than “just” reading and ignoring mistakes.
Most of the time the only person who suffers from my affliction is myself – because I suffer in silence. I may sit there with my brain boiling with indignation or frustration, my right arm twitching, my hand reaching for the pencil, but never quite picking it up – you won’t hear a word. Every so often, though, the teacher in me takes over (I have tried to conquer her for years, but she’s a hardy one, she is) and I voice what I’m thinking, as I did today. It’s kind of rude, really. My apologies, it was kindly meant.
All this is not to say I never make mistakes myself, far from it. In fact, it’s normally when I am writing about other people’s mistakes that I make the most myself (well, excepting the times I try to type while drunk). And I justify my own meddling from the fact that I actually appreciate it when other people make me aware that I’ve made a mistake (as long as it’s done in a helpful rather than offensive manner, obviously). It’s one of the very few things I actually hit “edit post” in movable type for – correcting mistakes – whether I’ve spotted them myself or had them pointed out to me.
Voice in my head: Bob Dylan – Tangled Up in Blue
Have I packed everything, I wonder? Well, the toothbrush I need to use twice before I pack it, but otherwise? The tricky thing about this trip (as is usual in Scandinavia) is: What sort of weather are we going to have? I have put in an order for “sunny, but not too warm” to the powers that be, but who knows whether they were listening and in the mood to grant me what I wish? Maybe I should pack my raincoat? That’s usually a good way to ensure that it won’t rain. I have packed an umbrella, will that be enough to outweigh the fact that I’ve also packed my sunglasses (though that’s sort of a given, they happen to “live” in the pocket of the camera bag, so maybe it won’t count as “packing”).
Superstitious, moi?
But how to decide which jacket to take, for example? I don’t want to carry more than one, but on the other hand I don’t want to freeze to death either.
Ach. Decisions, decisions.
Voice on the stereo: Robbie Williams – Have you met Miss Jones?