katblog

The mystery of the miscolored knuckle

2005-12-24T12:57:00.000+01:00

Why is it that my left hand has a slightly neon orange square across the knuckle when I wake up?
Did I fall asleep on the wrapping paper?
Did I sleep walk last night and paint myself with Daughter's pen?

I checked out the wrapping paper (I wrapped the last gift late last night), but none of the patterns fit. And I think Daughter would have hit me over the head if I'd been rummaging through her pens in the middle of the night. Besides, the color is somewhat too faded to look freshly painted, it's more like it's faded after washing my hands x times.

Did Santa visit early to mark me for extra special treatment this Christmas?

Where the hell is Grissom when you need him?

The bike is mine

2005-12-22T00:46:00.000+01:00

I almost don't believe it, but I truly am a winner. At least today.

My local gym have had a competition to attract more people to their spinning classes. During october-november the contestants were to count the miles they'd traveled on the spinning bike. An hour-long class would equal 30 km. To be a contender and qualify for the grand prize (a mountain bike) the contestants had to have a total of 600 km, give or take 30 km. Out of these people the lucky winner would be drawn. A combination of some work and lots of luck.

And the winner is moi. Me!

Early october I was kidding around saying to my friends at the gym that the bike is soo mine, 'cause I do love my spinning, but of course I didn't believe in it myself. The 600 km part was easy, I just didn't count on being the one getting picked at random.

This is so cool it makes me not even give a shit that it's been raining like crazy all afternoon. It doesn't matter if I get soaked, I'm happy all the same which is unusual for me since I'm allergic to November weather this close to Christmas. Shit, I'm in love with the world today.

Lucia celebrations over

2005-12-14T14:24:00.000+01:00

Lucia celebrations in Daughter's class last night:
Weak voices singing mostly off key.
One of the boys is a
stjärngosse, the rest are elfs. The coolest elfs don't sing, they just stand there looking embarrassed.
Anxious tärnor glancing upwards at the flickering candles of Lucia's crown: will the flame of the candle on top of her head set fire to the paper decorations criss crossing the room right above them?
Violin intros by musical girl to some of the carols hurt my ears. I try to keep a straight face (luckily I sit in the back), but I can't help getting chills. Hats off to musical girl, though - maybe we've seen a world violinist in the making? Or maybe not.
Baby sister crawls discreetly up front wanting to touch older sister's gown. Is shooed out of the way by distracted sister.
Female teacher has to dash in front of the kids hoisting tables and chairs out of the way so that lucia has a clear path out of the school cafeteria.
Lucia manages not to get any candlewax in her hair.

I had coffee with lussekatt (saffron cake) three times yesterday. Twice more today, once with the church choir where Daughter is part of the Lucia festivities. They usually sing so beautifully they bring tears (of pleasure) to your eyes. When they do their Lucia thing during the Christmas concert in church it's pure magic.

In my dreams

2005-12-11T10:29:00.000+01:00

He calls for the first time in a couple of months. Exchanges a few words with both kids and then wants to talk to me.

I’m fantastic for trying to sound nice, but I do sound really nice. We’re even able to laugh together.

If we ever laughed when we were together, it’s something I’ve forgotten.
Actually I’m not really sure we did very often.
Maybe we didn’t have a hell of a lot to laugh about.
Or maybe we’ve grown up, at last.

He thanks me for being the way I am, sounding like he honestly means it.
I know him, though. Don’t trust his words, ‘cause they’re not always the truth.
On the other hand, a compliment is a compliment. Who cares if he’s only saying stuff that makes me keep calm not picking fights on insignificant stuff like him not paying child support or not seeing his kids, right?

A few seconds after we’ve hung up he calls back, short of breath, saying that he forgot to tell me his brother had his first child – a new cousin for the kids. And it makes me all warm and happy and I long to see the little one, and I think it would be great to get together all of us.

But that’s just a fantasy, I know that. It’s such a shame.

Me having a little fun

2005-12-09T12:58:00.000+01:00

I've compared pics of family members to celeb faces on www.myheritage.com.
Very scientific.
Computer technology, which means it's based on fact.
Right..

Daughter looks the most like Jennifer Connelly.
Son looks the most like Clark Gable.
Daddy cool's spitting image is nowhere to be found in the celebrity database. However, Daughter has, quite on her own accord (no computer), spotted the likeness between him and Lenny Henry.
I look the most like Hillary Swank.

Little sister looks the most like Natalie Wood, but also a little Hillary Swank (although Big little sister and I aren't related).
Baby sister looks the most like Leonardo DiCaprio.
Baby brother looks the most like Donna Summer, but a little Leonardo DiCaprio as well (which makes sense since Baby sister and Baby brother are twins).
And their Mama looks like Drew Barrymore.

Such a handsome family.

Just for you, Charles. I doubt you'll find a Swedish translator anytime soon. Although you might deduce what the Swedish words below the pics mean (Swedish lesson no 1).

Free Mojtaba and Arash

2005-02-22T10:26:00.000+01:00

Arash Sigarchi is in Lakan prison in the Iranian city of Rashat.
Fellow Iranian blogger Mojtaba Saminejad has been released from prison in Tehran but still faces charges.

They have both been deprived of their liberty by the Iranian government for expressing opinions on their blogs.

A former Iranian blogger detainee, Sina Motallebi, credited the efforts of bloggers for his release. Let’s do it again. For Arash and Mojtaba.

Trip-n-fall Gatmasta

2005-02-22T08:50:00.000+01:00

Our neighbor R is a kid who likes rap music. He's always using rap lingo near me. To check my reaction, I guess.

I found out what my gangsta name is (see headline). Although if I use my Swedish nickname I'm Cow-tippin Bitch Ass. Sounds a bit too much like a redneck to my taste. Daughter is Cow-tippin Jamaican and Son is Drunken Pud. It seems we have a genetic disposition for cow-tipping.

Some virtual cow-tipping..

Monday madness on blogging

2004-11-30T08:28:00.000+01:00

1. How did you choose a name for your blog?
It's derived from my name. Simple as that.

2. How many times have you changed the name of your blog?
None yet.

3. How many blogs do you update regularly?
I have one in English and another in Swedish. The Swedish one is updated much more frequently for some reason. I have a tendency to forget the English one.

4. How many times have you moved in your life?
Four times.

5. On a scale of 1-10, how stressful is moving in your opinion?
I'd say somewhere around a 7. Mind you, it's been six years since I last moved and I have a short memory.

6. When moving, do you/would you rent a moving van/truck?
I've done it both ways in the past (with/without rented truck). The last time I rented a truck and didn't have to do anything but pack and unpack the stuff. Luxurious!
I'd do that if I could afford it.

7. Do you wear glasses? If so, how old were you when you needed them?
I started wearing them when I was around 5 or 6, and absolutely detested them. They were hideous - small, brown plastic ones. I never wanted to wear them.

Never ever getting even

2004-11-27T14:14:00.000+01:00

ChristiaN commented on my last post that he was a bit envious of me being around in the 80's to see some terrific acts while they were fresh and new.
A little comforting for me *evil laugh*, who will read his stories about the music scene in Minneapolis. The right place to be, it seems, for someone like me.

Just have to tell you, man... It's totally unfair!! Since the 80's nothing remotely interesting has come my way. I'm not interested in seeing Anastacia or Destiny's Child or those kind of acts, and whatever might be slightly interesting doesn't show up in this area anymore. They go straight to Stockholm or Malmö. And these days I don't get around to travel to go to concerts. At all.

I guess I know what I have to do when the kiddos move out.
Until then, ChristiaN, you have to know that I'll be sittin' on your shoulder enjoying every show you go to. I'm with U in spirit. *completely green with envy*

Music nostalgia

2004-11-13T01:50:00.000+01:00

When I had my evening talk with my daughter tonight we had the radio on, next to her bed.
They were playing some old stuff from the 80's and 90's. Songs I hadn't listened to in ages. Luther Vandross. He was far back in my mind up until they played a song with him. Nice re-acquaintance to make. A was drifting off to sleep next to me while I was lying there drifting down memory lane to Mallorca some 16-17 years ago.

It was so good to just lie there, eyes closed, and remember. There's really nothing like listening to old songs you used to listen to a lot after having quite forgotten about them. I felt a great need to rediscover my old vinyl records. Shit, I've got so much music in that shelf. And old tapes as well. But somehow I never get around to doing it. My God, all the mixed tapes we used to make before we went somewhere. They all had different names - I remember the "Soft & Wet" tape got nicked by a guy who helped us open our apartment door after we locked ourselves out. It was a mix of our favorite Prince songs. I think maybe he deserved to get something for helping us, anyway.

It feels kinda strange to think back while you're listening. Makes me want to record all of it on cd instead. Picture having to turn the record over after only a couple of songs.. That feels kinda old now.
I'm glad I kept my old vinyls, though. It's a treasure of some 300 records I've got to go through. I just heard someone on tv saying that according to some poll somewhere the top two hip hop albums of all times are Eric B & Rakim's Paid In Full and De La Soul's Three Feet High And Rising. I'm happy to say that I've got both of them (on vinyl - haven't heard them in ages - love'em, though) and that I saw both acts when those albums were fresh and new. Eric B & Rakim in London together with Public Enemy and LL Cool J, and De La Soul here in Sweden. Nice times. Kinda wish I could go back sometimes..

On the spot

2004-11-12T19:19:00.000+01:00

Grab the nearest book.
Open the book to page 23.
Find the fifth sentence.
Post the text of the sentence in your journal... along with these instructions.

The wind beat through twigs, gave off a greenish odor like struck
flints.

The Shipping News by Annie Proulx (International bestseller)

The happiest people in the world

2004-11-11T17:00:00.000+01:00

I was reading a magazine today, finding this little note:

The happiest people in the world can be found in Nigeria according to a survey on joy and contentment made in 65 countries.
Nigeria
Mexico
Venezuela
Sweden's in spot no 19.
Source: World Values Survey

Tests

2004-11-01T16:51:00.000+01:00

I Am

Which tarot card are you?

Which Member of the Endless Are You?

Take the What Fruit Are You? test by Ellen!

As dictators go, you're kind of pathetic! Instead of military coup or systematic persecution to get power, you just happen to be the head of the only party in the UK that isn't totally worthless! While not very impressive it is none the less effective! You can do whatever the hell you like without any chance of getting voted out of office! People know that the only alternative would have them eating their children if they ever got back into power! However, you still think that you are as loved as you were when you were first elected into power… News flash for you: You're not!
What tin-pot dictator are you? Take the "What Dictator am I?" test at PoisonedMinds.com

Which monkey are you?
Another pointless diversion from Bijouriel

Which Ringwraith are You?
By Lisa

The loveliest bath

2004-10-24T00:45:00.000+02:00

I was really disappointed when I woke up Wednesday morning. My body didn't feel up to any challenges at all, more like I was coming down with a cold or something. Bye bye spinning! I was so disappointed - I've been looking forward to the marathon spinning so much! It's one of those extracurricular classes they schedule once in awhile, I don't count on it being repeated anytime soon.

I was on the verge of calling down to the gym in the morning to discuss with Sofia, the manager and quite a reliable source, what to do. Looking back at my spinning career I have only one thing to say: I don't take it easy, even when I tell myself beforehand that today, I really really have to. It never works. I forget myself. Would it be wise to put myself through four hours when probably even one would be too much for me this particular day? Of course it wouldn't.

But as Wednesday went along I convinced myself I had to go. Hell no, I'm not sitting at home when the others are sweating in the gym! I stuffed myself with carbohydrates. I convinced myself that if I felt like shit I'd either get off the bike or at least take it very easy and just pedal my way through.

These are the observations I made during the evening:

I found the right bike. My sweet reliable favorite bike that doesn't make any funny little noises or have any other characteristics that can drive you crazy if you have to put up with it for hours on end.
Unfortunately the bike was in the front row. I normally don't like people staring down my back, I want a clear view of everyone so I stay in the back. This time, though, we were in a totally different room, the bikes arranged differently, so I didn't really mind that much. I positioned myself very strategically in front of the instructor, which obstructed my view of myself in the mirror. The ultimate position for me - I absorb the energy from the instructor, but I don't have to see my sweaty, grimacing face in the mirror.
Extremely good concept having Marie-Louise, Erika, Frida, Susanne and Lotta alternate on the instructor's bike. They've all got a style that I like and the kind of music taste that suits me. I would've wanted Sofia there as well, but she's been ill. :(
After five minutes I felt the urge to go to the bathroom (yes, I'd gone right before we started, but I'd been drinking so much during the day I needed to go again).
After 2 hours Sofia came in to tell us 1995 rowing world champion Maria Brandin was in the gym working out. She wanted us to know that we were now at the point where it starts getting nasty - halfway. So I started thinking. Did I think it was getting worse yet? I figured no.
I love bananas! The banana I ate after the second hour tasted heavenly. I was starved, even though I'd prepared myself during the day. Yummy! I ate and drank everything I was served during the evening. 4 litres of water, 1 Powerade, 2 bananas. I needed it.
The hard part began 3 hrs 20 min into the class. My calf started cramping. I was supposed to take it easy, but of course I forgot during the first 2,5 hours.
It's funny how the mind works. To be exhausted and think it's only 40 min to go - that's 3/4 of a normal class, but you don't really get it - it feels as if it's nothing at this point.
The worst part was getting off the bike to stretch. My legs were s-t-i-f-f. My muscles were cramping. We'd been joking earlier in the evening that they should have a camera shooting us walking downstairs after four hours of spinning, cause we thought we'd be walking something like the way you do after your very first pump class. It didn't turn out that way. We were unexpectedly fresh.

Lotta gave me a ride home. I ate and ate and ate and ate and ate - my God, I was hungry.. When the kids had gone to bed I slipped into a bath. Heavenly!!! I turned the lights down low, just lay there wiggling my toes and e-n-j-o-y-e-d. It was the best part of the day.

Bush vs Kerry

2004-10-20T09:16:00.000+02:00

Yesterday I found the place for us non-US residents to vote in the US election, just to see what would be the consequences if we were able to make a difference.

There were only two countries where Bush has more votes than Kerry: Niger (West Africa) and Saint Pierre and Miquelon (south of Newfoundland, Canada). In Sweden he gets 8% of the votes.

Who I voted for? His name starts with a K and ends with erry.

Heavy thinking

2004-10-07T22:19:00.000+02:00

Putting my daughter to bed tonight I ended up having a conversation about religion.

My daughter sings in the church choir, but hasn't been christened. Neither of my kids have been, although I was christened as a baby. However I'm a real heathen. Since I was confirmed in my teens I might have been to church approx. 5 times up until A joined the choir. I actively made the choice not to have my kids christened, 'cause I think in Swedish society of today a lot of people aren't really that religious (church goers are getting fewer and fewer), but they still christen their babies. It seems they confuse it with a naming ceremony, which you can have without the religious context. I really feel like a hipocrite if I go to church for the first time in 10+ years to have my babies christened, not to return to church again.

I think it's up to my children to search for their own beliefs, and this is what I was talking to my daughter about tonight. She really thinks we need to go more often to church, which is fine by me. I enjoy spending time in church. I think the church organ has a really massive sound that you don't hear anywhere else, and I think it's really cool to sit in a building that's been an important place in the little society I live in. I sit there imagining what the people might have looked like that went there since the 17th century.

A was really pensive tonight, revealing that she's the only one in her class who hasn't been christened. I told her in essence it means nothing. If she believes in God no one can take that from her. In case she keeps feeling this way it's always possible to get christened even as a 9-year-old. I just want her to do what she believes in, because she feels that way and not because I put an idea in her head. I told her she might just as well like buddhism or hinduism or islam if she decides to learn more about the religions of the world. Whatever's fine with her is fine with me as long as she's a loving human being.

I want this

2004-10-07T10:28:00.000+02:00

top for my daughter. It's so her. It totally sucks being broke sometimes..

Where are all the ladies?

2004-10-05T19:53:00.000+02:00

My local gym has a special event on the 20th - marathon spinning. We're supposed to go on for 4 hours, and I think it's a fun thing to do. Stupid, perhaps, but fun.

The last two years I've been logging more hours than anyone going to that particular gym. Not so this year, but I still consider myself to be in pretty good shape. I see this marathon as a challenge. I'm curious which instructors are going to be involved (they switch every hour), I'm curious who is crazy (stupid?) enough to participate and also I'm curious how I'm going to cope. Apparently it'll be something entirely different than normal spinning classes.

I guess this is a once in your lifetime thing to do. And I suppose I'm crazy enough to go along with it. Most people I've told about this marathon, telling them I actually plan to do this, look at me with bewilderment. They really don't get it. Why I would do it voluntarily. But I really do think it'll be a blast.

Just waiting for the other chicks to join me..

The first one

2004-10-05T17:17:00.000+02:00

I'm taking a step in another direction. An English blog. Finally someone gave me the little nudge I needed to get going (hi Eric).

I'll be going to the gym shortly, will just flip some burgers for the kiddos and then I go downhill to spinning class. But I'll be back. *said in Arnoldian accent*