Need I say more?

Had a lovely weekend. You know, having a boyfriend with access to a car isn’t half bad. (Come to think of it, having a boyfriend at all isn’t half bad.) We went to Arvika to see Linda with a stop-off on the way at my grandparents’ as my father was there, so I got to see my father, I got to alleviate my conscience about not visiting my grandparents often enough AND I got to show Martin off, which was kinda fun.

I also managed not to get us completely lost. One wrong turning is no more than should be expected. I mean, ok, so I’ve come along those roads more times than I could easily count, but I’ve always been in the back and had no resposibility for getting us to the right place before, so don’t blame me if I haven’t paid much attention. Anyway, not only did we get to my grandparents’ with only one wrong turning, we got from there to Arvika without a hitch – and we got back across the border to Norway along the narrow local roads pretty much painlessly as well – I got a bit confused at times (I had a bit of a problem with the map – it was an old one that my grandfather dug out and it didn’t always fit the landscape properly), but we still ended up in the right place somehow.

We got to Linda’s place quite late, and obviously sat talking for a while, so why I had to be wide awake at eight the next morning is beyond me, but I was.

Anyway, a couple of cups of coffee, some breakfast and a lot of milling about and sitting on the couch doing nothing much later we were all ready to face the world, or at least systembolaget* in Arvika. Linda had informed us that we were coming to a party that evening (saying “Do you want to come?” and then adding that we didn’t really have a choice), so we bought some cider and beer to bring there – oh, and a bottle of whisky, of course.

Systemet has a much larger range of whisky than Polet, so Martin and I were obviously eager to check the local selection. In Arvika it’s pretty basic, so we just bought a bottle of McLeod’s Islay to bring to the party, but afterwards we drove to Karlstad to shop some more and in Systemet in Drottningatan we found Caoil Ila standard distillery bottling and I grabbed the last bottle of Abelour 15 Sherrywood finish (it’s ok, Martin, you can have a dram or two). Martin had fun filling the shopping cart with weird bottles of beer – the selection of beer is also much more extensive at Systemet – while I just bought one bottle of Erdinger (which I think I like – I thought I might as well find out).

Linda’s comment when she saw our shopping: “You’re both mad.” We’ll take that as a compliment, I think.

More shopping followed (with Martin carrying all that booze around like a hero). We rounded up at a pavement café where I had a much-needed double espresso, but still managed to leave my wallet on the table when we walked away. Luckily it was still there when I ran back a few minutes later. Phew.

Skip forward a couple of hours and we arrive at the party. It’s a bring-your-own bbq sort of thing, and at a summerhouse down by one of the countless lakes in Värmland. We had been instructed to bring swimsuits and such, and when we get there we see why – such a lovely location and 23 degrees in the water. Shortly after we arrive they start asking around whether anyone fancies trying “the rings”. They’ve got a speedboat and these things that have evolved from the inner tubes of tractor wheels that people used to tie behind the boat and ‘surf’ on. These have a ‘platform’ for you to kneel on, small fins underneath to make a sort of steering possble and handles on either side that you grab – partly to hold on, partly to pull one side up to steer. I can’t believe my luck. I love stuff like that! Basically, I love speed as long as there’s not much chance of seriously hurting yourself – and the water is pretty soft on the whole. So I get to go out and try these things and it’s absolutely great. I keep falling off and swallowing half the lake (I keep telling myself not to try breathing in just when I fall of, but keep forgetting). However, the guy riding at the same time as me has tried it before and actually falls off before I do most of the time, so I don’t feel so much like a complete beginner. (It didn’t hurt that the guy driving the boat gave me praise for catching on quickly afterwards – I think his words were “I’ve never seen anyone get the basic principles right so quickly before” – which, it must be said, is a nice thing to hear, even if I didn’t quite believe him.)

Mmm. Speed.

I’m paying for it today, though – the muscles in my arms are aching like mad.

Sidenote: I got myself sorted out with contact lenses the other week – karate with glasses not being a grand idea – and have been wearing them a lot to get used to it again. And boy was I glad of that this weekend – any sort of swimming when you can’t really see much is a bad idea, but behind that boat I was especially happy to have 20/20 vision, or near enough.

We’d booked a taxi for the return to Arvika for 3 am, which made sense, but by midnight I was feeling the effect of getting up at eight (I’d been tired all week anyway – I still can’t understand why I can’t manage to sleep in a bit when I have the chance), and all I wanted to do was go home and sleep. However, with a bit of McLeod’s and Martin for company I survived – and was reasonably happy, too – until we could finally all pile into the taxi (which was a limo – quite an odd sight out in the woods like that).

Sunday morning, and miracle of miracles I actually manage to sleep, though fitfully, until ten. I then get up and do the dishes. This is one of my pleasing traits as a house guest, I like doing the dishes first thing in the morning. Never do at home, obviously, more’s the pity for me. We all muddle about for a bit while Linda gets a few loads of dirty laundry though the washing machine and tumble dryer and then go off to take in some culture at Rackstadmuseet. Despite sleeping in I’m on the sleepy side (well, 4 am to 10 am is only 6 hours, after all), but we have a nice lazy day. Martin and I get in the car and head for home (via a Swedish supermarket to stock up on some cheap meat products) at around four.

So, we get back to Oslo and I suggest that even though I really need to go home and have an early night, we could just go for a pint of cider first. So we do. I then suggest we could have another one. And another one. Really, I mean, I know I’ve suggested that he is a bad influence on me but I’m beginning to suspect it’s the other way around.

So this morning I overslept and will have to work late to make up for it. Serves me right.

Voice on the stereo (I’m working from home, couldn’t see the point in spending an hour to get to work when I’m this late): Paul Simon – Still Crazy After All These Years

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* Sweden, like Norway, has a state-run chain of shops for alchohol, you can’t buy anything stronger than about 5% (don’t know the exact limit) in any other shops. In Norway it’s called “Vinmonopolet” (The wine monopoly) – frequently shortened to “Polet” – and in Sweden “Systembolaget” (The system corporation), frequently shortened to “Systemet”.

Wonderful quote on eccentricity at Ten Seconds to Midnight. Go read it. Shuh.

Which is kind of appropriate considering this one came way too early. The Friday Five:

1. What time do you wake up on weekday mornings?
Between six and seven. The alarm (the radio) is normally set for about six and I normally need half an hour of half-awake listening before I manage to persuade myself to get out of bed.

2. Do you sleep in on the weekends? How late?
I sleep in compared to weekdays, yes, but I’m normally up around nine on the weekends unless I’ve been up really late the night before.

3. Aside from waking up, what is the first thing you do in the morning?
Put on my glasses – go to the toilet – put the kettle on for tea. Ok, so that’s the first three things.

4. How long does it take to get ready for your day?
Depends, if I’m in a hurry I can do it in 5 minutes, but on a normal day it takes me around 40 (more if the book I read over breakfast is a captivating one).

5. When possible, what is your favorite place to go for breakfast?
I hardly ever go out for breakfast unless I’m forced to when out travelling. I prefer having my breakfast on my own couch and start the day off with a couple of chapters of whichever book I’m reading at the moment.

Voice in my head: Michael Wiehe – Hemmet

I have found myself a patron saint: Expeditus. It sounds like a bad joke, really, but it seems genuine. I should build a shrine to him, I could do with some help. Now if only I were a catholic. On the other hand, what I really need is a patron saint that actually blesses those who procrastinate rather than tries to help them change. I like my Procrastination, he’s an old friend by now, and I don’t really want to be heartless and throw him out in the cold.

On a different subject entirely, Dragonium Major is doing well on Civil Rights and Political Freedoms, which has to be good.

I want a dog. I really, really want a dog.

Yesterday, walking from the customers’ offices to the tube station at Røa, we met a spaniel of sorts out for a walk on his own. He was obviously not supposed to be out on his own, so we phoned the number on the name tag and told them where to find him (there was no answer at first, or we would have waited for them to come, but they rang back shortly after – “Oh, dear, is he out walking?”). Point is, of course, that he was adorable, and super-friendly. So I related to Dag how I really want a dog but figure it would be impracticable ( two of the main objections are: my flat’s too small and I’m too often not at home at all between seven in the morning and eleven at night).

But then, to spite my resolve, one of my co-workers has brought in his new boxer puppy this morning. At 10 weeks old most puppies are irresistable, and this one is no exception.

I WANT A DOG.

I can’t have a dog. I can’t have a dog. I can’t have a dog. (Repeat as necessary.)

At the back of my head there is a voice trying to persuade me that it would be possible, but so far my reason keeps kicking in with objections. I could bring him to work, couldn’t I? (Every day? Oh, come off it, girl?) I could sort some sort of space out in the flat where he could stay during the day. (Yeah, because there’s so much spare space there, right?) I could, uhm, bring him on holiday with me. (Because that’s easy, right?)

Voice in my head: Michael Wiehe – Allt vad jag begär

It’s all over the papers this morning, of course, as Bush tries to grapple with the definitions of common words (such as “marriage”, “sin” and “respect”).

“I believe marriage is between a man and a woman (…)” Bush also urged, however, that America remain a “welcoming country” not polarized on the issue of homosexuality. “I am mindful that we’re all sinners, and I caution those who may try to take a speck out of the neighbor’s eye when they’ve got a log in their own,” the president said. “I think it is important for our society to respect each individual, to welcome those with good hearts.” (My emphasis)

Whoa. We will respect each individual while calling the relationship they have with the one they love a sin. Yeeees. I can see how that would work. No, hang on, I can’t.

And I mean: WOW!

During the holidays I splashed out on a CD-ROM containing a digitalised Book of Kells. Which is fine, I really didn’t mind paying for it.

BUT: The University of Texas have actually gone to the trouble of scanning the whole of the Gutenberg Bible and MADE IT AVAILABLE ON THE NET.

I mean, wow.