Meltdown

I tried writing yesterday. I was sitting in bed and had arranged all the pillows behind me perfectly, balansing my laptop in my lap and stretching my fingers (just for show).

"Here we go!"

Empty screen, cursor blinking as if to taunt my lack of creativity. I sigh and ask myself what I need to get off my chest. There are so many ideas that it becomes hard to focus.

I start writing on something happy. Something sweet. Something that makes me smile. I get bored and stop after half a page. Save and store.

Something painful. Something dark. Something absolutely heart breaking. That requires a lot on my part. I need to feel it and I don't. Not now. So I stop before I even have a chance to start.


I have the creativity, it's just not taking form in the way that I want it to. I don't mind. This is how it goes. It will return. It always does.

More Pain This Way Please

This msn passage just made me laugh. So sharing.


Fia says:
was I right or was I right?
I just realized... we're pathetic

Susan says:
so...how many times have you listened to it now? :D

Fia says:
about ten times :D
in a row
and you?

Susan says:
only five

Fia says:
and how are we feeling?

Susan says:
mixed emotions...I would like to experience more pain

12 of 12: November

My 12 of 12 for November. I forgott to take notes on what time I took these pictures so I will just display them in chronological order.




Puppy Exhibit














We heard about the puppy exhibit that was taking place in the exhibition hall of Malmö and of course we had to go check it out. I didn't find my favorite breed, the Lhasa Apso, which I didn't really expect to find since it isn't very common here. It was kind of hard taking pictures in there too. I deactivated my flash in respect to the dogs and puppies move around a lot so a lot of the pictures came out in a blurr.



Siberian Husky


















This is my boyfriend's favorite breed. I think it is a very beautiful dog but I don't think I would want to have one in the city. It is gorgeous though.



I'm Calling this Dog Number 2...


















I asked about the name of this breed but I don't remember what it was. I think it's a very interesting dog, some famous photographer (don't remember the name of him either) took a lot of pictures of his dogs wearing clothes and placed in situations where they looked almost human. Very interesting pictures and not at all as blurry as this one...


The Naked Little Fellow













I just thought he looked kinda cute. In a funny looking way.



Turning Torso


















Drove past the Turning Torso on our way to Österlen.


UFO?















Took this one from the car, outside of Ystad on our way to Hammenshög Inn. Spook-ey.



Hammenshögs Inn













My boyfriend sitting at our table at Hammenshög Inn. Amazing old place from the 1660's or something. Rumor says it even has a ghost roaming the halls. We went there to celebrate the traditional Swedish Mårten Gås (gås=goose). It's really a tradition that is held during this time of year only in the southern parts of Sweden. I believe that it is French in origin.


Black Soup













The Goose fest starts off with Black Soup (Svartsoppa), though I don't know if that is the correct translation for it. The main ingredience of this soup is blood, which is why I always go with the additional Lobster Soup which according to my boyfriend is wrong wrong wrong. He likes the bloody soup (pun intended). After the soup you have your goose with potatoe, gravey, apple sauce etc and to desert a Skånsk (which is what we call of the south of Sweden) apple pie.



Coffee


















I just had to take a picture of this cup. I generally don't like these types of coffee cups but I thought this one was very pretty.


Inside the Inn













This one and the following pictures will need no further explination. It's pictures taken from inside the Inn. Just to show that feeling of ancient Swedish interior design.


Entrance




















Loving the Wallpaper

Evaluation

I think that you appreciate that there are extraordinary men and women and extraordinary moments in time when history leaps forward on the backs of these individuals. That what can be imagined can be achieved. That you must dare to dream but that there's no substitute for perseverance and hard work. And teamwork. Because no one gets there alone. And that, while we commemorate the... the greatness of these events and the individuals who achieve them, we cannot forget the sacrifice of those who make these achievements and leaps possible. / "Max"


I used to carry this around in my organizer. I thought it was inspirational. Because you always think of yourself as someone part of it all. You don't want to be one of those people who just made the sacrifice but didn't get to see the results. Which basically means that when push comes to shove you don't really want to be the hero.

I find that... disturbing. I wouldn't want to say that it hypocritical because to me that indicates a person who is aware of doing wrong, or doing something for the wrong reason, passing it on as something righteous. And in any case, it has to do with faith. You have to believe in the cause enough to justify what you are giving up and how many passionate people are really willing to do that these days? No matter how loud some people scream about something, most people have a limit.

This has not been a wake up call. I wasn't put in a situation where I had to test my limits or anything. It's more of a slow process that forces me to evaluate myself in a different light so I won't turn into a hypocrate.

It is true what they say, ignorance is bliss...

How Do I Look

My first almost tipsy post....


"You look wonderful honey."

And I just know that he wants me to decide on an outfit already.

Life is hard sometimes.

Alla talar svenska...

Ok, so this entry will be in Swedish since some of these comments are difficult to translate with the desired effect. It’s from a Swedish site that lists stupid commetns from people calling in or visiting the movie theater.


= Personal talar.
- Kund talar.

- Åh, Ravenous, den är skitfräck! Den handlar om att man blir vad man äter, typ! [Och om vampyrer]

- Är han lång som kommer sitta framför mig?

- När slutar filmen?
= Vilken film?
- Den som började förut. [Jaså DEN.]

- Jag vill ha en stor Pommes Frites.
= Visst (ställer fram en stor popcorn).
- NEJ! Inte popcorn, baconsnacks!

- Hej, jag skulle vilja ha en biljett till Exhibitor of the Year [Exhibitor of the Year är en utmärkelse som biografen hade fått. Vi hade ett par affischer med en massa fyrverkerier och texten Exhibitor of the Year på…]

- Jag vill boka biljetter till American X-Files.
= OK… Du menar American History X, eller?
- Ja, just det. American Express.

- Jag vill beställa biljetter till Kåt å ugly [Coyote Ugly].

- Du, jag ska gå på den där filmen om den där Einstein… ja, den där gamle gubben som blev kär. [Shakespeare in Love]

- Kommer det sitta nåt stort huvud framför mig då? [Det hoppas jag VERKLIGEN inte!]


Länk till fler kommentarer.

Msn conversation

The conversation between truly brainwashed people....

Fia säger:
is she still not talking about ben and ethan?

Susan säger:
yeah isn't that rude?

Fia säger:
so rude
why do people do this? call you up and don't talk about ben and ethan?

Susan säger:
i don't know

Gimme a Peg Leg

"If you have a peg leg or hooks for hands then maybe its enough to simply keep on living. You know, bravely facing life with your disability. But without these things you're actually expected to make something of your life, achieve something earn a raise, wear a necktie. So if anything I'm actually the antithesis of Ahab, because if I did have a peg leg I'd quite possibly be more happy and more content and I wouldn't feel the need to chase after these creatures of the unknown." /Quagmire


I listened to them talk about their problems. They were all on the same page; hating their jobs, wishing that they could buy that dinner table set in the designer store instead of the one they ended up with from IKEA. Thinking that the biggest problem right now revolves around finding the time to go to the gym or saving money to buy things they don’t really need.

They all have houses. Pretty houses. Though they all talk about what hasn’t been done to them, the flaws and beauty marks. They talk about other houses they’ve been to. How it would be like to live like that, to have that kind of house. Bigger, better. Location.

I’m silent during this. I have nothing to add. In our apartment we can’t sit at the dinner table at the same time as we sit by the computer. We can’t be in the bathroom together at the same time. In fact once you’re inside you pracically have to walk backwards to get out again. We only have room for one couch by the TV and it’s rather small so we come up with creative ways for the both of us to be comfortable without hurting each other.

Listening to them talk about all those things they don’t have that I never even considered for myself should have made me really depressed. It should have me hate my life and my tiny tiny apartment with all its limitations. But I didn’t feel either one of these emotions. And I couldn’t figure out if it was because there really isn’t any point for me to crave these things or because I simply do not value happiness that way. In either case I actually felt lucky.

I’m happy. I have come to terms with my misery and all of its companions. I should have been the one complaining the most in this particular crowd yet I could not think of anything to nag about. I really don’t care about bookshelves or pool houses or the fact that I don’t have a special room for a large dinner table. It doesn’t strike me as important at all.

And I think I figured out why.

Since I’m such an unlucky bastard in everything that happens to me all I can do to keep the depression at bay is to look for the positive things in life. Stop and smell the roses if you may. Cause let’s face it people if I didn’t think like this I’d be one step away from jumping out from the balcony and that would just not be me. So instead of dvelving in my own misery, I find the good things in life and I focus on them.

(Dear God, I really am Ethan....)

In fact, I am probably more happy in my misery than I would have been had I really been happy. Cause then I would have had the time to focus on what I don’t have and be miserable about that.

Maybe Baby

We talked the other day. He’d fallen asleep on the bed. I could hear him almost snoring in there and went in to see what was going on and to wake him up. Across the bed. Strong light straight in his face. Now that’s tired.

I love that we talk. I try to remind myself about that. I didn’t think you could do that with someone you dated. I was missing out.


“Why don’t you publish your work?” He asks.

He never asks about my writing. He accepts that there are things about me he will never get. So I am surprised.

“You could try get it published in Japan if you don’t want people you know to read it.”

“I’m not ashamed of my writing,” I explain. “And either way I don’t think that Japan is the best place for it.”

He looks at me as if he thinks I’m making excuses.

“Besides that is not why I write,” I hurry to add. “I write because I love it. If you write with the purpose of making money you’ve got it all wrong.”

“People make money from writing,” he objects.

“That was not what I meant.” I know that he knows this. He is just humoring me. “I’m just saying that the reward for writing is just that. Writing. If it becomes about money the passion, or even the soul of it, might be lost. Not everything is about money.”

“So how do you expect authors to make a living then?”

“First of all, I am not an author.” I clarify and smile at him. I think it’s cute that he thinks of me as one. “Secondly, you’ve just brought up the most interesting and maybe just the most difficult dilemma that authors have been faced with throughout time. Atwood actually devots a whole chapter to this in her book. She means that some people value a book after the number of copies that it sells and others value the book because it doesn’t sell many copies at all. Something about the artistic value of it all. I don’t strongly believe one nor the other but either way you swing in this matter one thing is very clear; You can’t make a living as an author if you don’t make money on your work.”

“I fail to see your argument against making money on your writing. It seems like that would give you more opportunaty to do what you claim you love.”

“It’s a very versatile problem. The way I look at it is that once you’ve published something there will be expectations if your work is good enough. There will be a follow up. And the follow up will be driven by money and a whole lot of pressure. Once you’ve taken that step you no longer write for yourself and the minute you make that choice it will never be the same. The magic that is writing will be lost.”

“But what if you fail? What if no one cares if you write something else ever again? What if it sucks?”

I have considered this of course, it’s not as if I am that self absorbed. Chances are that I am just like one of those people who’s been singing in the shower for ten years and had one or two people telling them that they have a wonderful voice. Then when they are standing in front of the Idol jury they are told what they really sound like and are broken down. They’ll stop singing in the shower even though it wasn’t about sounding good as much as it was about feeling good. Knowing that you suck puts a gigantic cloud over everything.

“Now that would be a whole other kind of bad.” I tell him.

“So what you’re saying is that either way you play it, you can’t win?”

“No, that’s what I am trying to tell you. I am winning. Right now. Right now I am doing it for the right reason and I’m loving every minute I’m spending with it. Why risk changing that? For anything?”

“So you’re never gonna publish it?”

He seems very dissapointed about this which is strange because I know that he has the same attitude about his music. And we have thought about publishing it but it always stops at discussing it. Somewhere along the line we realize that publishing it would mean that it would have to end and that is some scary shit.

“Maybe baby,” I smile. “Some day if it feels right.”

Lova Marinda

Went out to my parents house this weekend. As usual there was Lova, my sister's little daughter. She posed for the camera. I think she's starting to realize that she is a very very pretty girl :) And again, look at the eye lashes on the second picture.... amazing aren't they?

12 of 12: October

OK, I thought I'd finally give this a try. I have been reluctant to try it because I figured I would forget the next month, which I probably will, and I hate not being consistent. Anyway, here goes...



08:00 Coffee
















Every morning has to start with coffee. Strong coffee. Actually strong Swedish coffee which is a whole other kind of strong than for instance American coffee.

If you deprive me of my coffee in the morning I will not be a happy camper.


08:30 Little Ms. Lova














I put up the photograph of my sister's little angel, Lova on the fridge. It's the one to the left, in case there was any doubt :) I never develop my digital pictures. Thank god my grandparents are still using an old fashion camera.


08:31 Lot 49















I looked through The Crying of Lot 49 while waiting for the guy at the printer to call me back on the pdf I sent them yesterday. I have a lot of comments in the books I read when I studied English. I love that. I really should be doing that with the books that I read now. Jot down my thoughts to see if I feel the same in ten years or so. Wrote my blog post on Pynchon.


14:30 Color Issues














The guy from the printer finally called at 14:30. The colors didn't work this time either. My .tiff had been CMYK:ed too many times or something. This is still sort of greek to me. I worked on the graphic. EPS. Pantone. No CMYK. Again. This time I got it right. I hope.


17:15 Ready for Party


















Tried taking a picture of me all ready to go. My arms are not long enough. I couldn't get the whole dress so I just got this one of my head looking kinda big. We're invited to the House Warming party at the club and resturant Millenium in Höllviken. One of my boyfriend's closest friends is the owner.They've made some renovations so that's basically what they wanted celebrate. Anyways, this is as good as it gets these days. Lighting is everything. The possiblity of choosing which pictures of yourself you want to display means even more.


17:30 My Darling Comes Home


















Not happy about the close up. Especially since the camera greets him before I do. "Do you mind?" He asks me and tries to get away from the flash. I do mind :)


17:35 The Present

















We brought wine. Everyone else came with flowers. Marcus, my boyfriend's friend, appreciated our present a lot more. This is Ola trying to be creative. He'd designed the card as well but I forgott to get that angle so this is all you get to see of that.


18:30 At Millenium














It's a bit dark but this is Millenium from where we were sitting. The food was to die for. I'm spoiled that way. Almost all my boyfriend's friends that we spend time with these days are chefs so the dinner parties in general are pretty high class as far as the food is concerned. The downside of this: I'm getting fat...


19:00 A Few Good Men


















From left to right: Henrik, Ola, Peder and Micke. Unfortunately I did not get a chance of taking Marcus' and Sofia's pictures. They kept running around the place fixing stuff. Micke's pregnant girlfriend and Marcus' sister were also there but they were somewhere else a the time.


19:30 Peder


















Peder, Marcus brother, sitting across the table from me. For some reason we always end up talking when we're out. And he always looks at me when he notices that I'm there in a way that I can only interpret as: "Thank God! A person under 30 who can talk about something else than food and resturants..."


22:20 Going Home














We listened to a boring report on our way home. People talking about their cars. I was a little tipsy though and didn't really care. But as we pulled in to the parking lot they finally decided to play some music instead. Now that's just bad luck.


23:00 Studying

I read through the passages about RGB, CMYK and Pantone before going to bed. Had to get up early the next day and get the graphics straightened out.

Pynchon

Certain things, it is made clear, will not be spoken aloud; certain events will
not be shown onstage; thought it is difficult to imagine, given the excesses of
the preceding acts, what these things could possibly be.

I heard on TV yesterday that Thomas Pynchon has been placed on the famous list of "could be a nobel prize winner this year". In litterature of course. That would be interesting.

When I read The Crying of Lot 49 it was a frustrating joy. My English professor in litterature looked at me and told me that he had thought of me when picking this book for the reading list.

"You'll like it", he said. "It's right down your alley."

The quote in the beginning of this post is taken from that very book and it pretty much captures the structualistic essence of it. I won't even dig in to the post-structualistic analysis because that is where I got really confused. I re read the book after having done the analysis. It made more sense the second time around, when I had all the facts, or the non facts as it seemed.

Looking back, it is by far the most interesting book I've ever read. It's the kind of book that will keep growing as you do. It has to sink in before you can enjoy it. I have it on my favorite book list here on blogger so it was obviously memorable. I might read it again, especially if he wins the prize. And maybe, if I feel brave enough, I will give some of his heavier work a try as well.

Development

There is another way of denying the fact that you've lost your touch. Read your old stuff. It's actually much more fun than cleaning your keyboard.

I went back like five years in time and found the good the bad, the ugly as well as the interesting in our old work.


The good - a lot more humor in the early stuff. Being dark and painful is all fun and game but I realized that I miss the humor. We were cracking jokes as if there was no tomorrow. Most of which are not suited to be posted in here though.

The bad - the black sheep character was (ironically enough) darker. Meaner. Edgier. Much more insulting. Much more interesting.

The ugly - spelling and grammar were not our friend. Still isn't, but we get along just fine these days.

The interesting - back then the characters smoked indoors. Ever since the ban on smoking in public places was introduced here in Sweden I've made them go out on the balcony for a cigarette. I found that very interesting cause I wasn't aware of it but looking back now I noticed that they were smoking all over the place in the early stuff.


I'm gonna read one more before I go to bed. Something about watching Russian TV in Mexico... I dunno, I don't remember this. Sounds intriguing.

Pillowbuilder

This summer I watched amazed how a friend of mine started building a fortress of pillows prior to bedtime up at our summer place. I looked at her as if she was pulling my leg but apparently this is what some people consider comfortable. It just had to be documented.

Cactus

I've managed to kill my cactus and I realize that I might be one of few people in the world who posess this skill.

It looked strange so I went up and poked it. It fell apart.

This is the second time that happens. I don't really know what that should tell me.

Late Night Conversation

We brainstorm a lot over msn. New suggestions. Old suggestions. Most of them will never "see the light of day". And yesterday I saved the whole conversation for the first time ever and read it though, realizing how very disturbed we are. It was a real epiphany I tell you. I guess it is all about perspective.

Anyhow, I will call this exhibit 1:



Fia:
she wants him dead so she can live with richard
Susan:
I toyed with the idea of it
Fia:
you did?
Susan:
I killed off Tony to see how much pain I could draw from that
Fia:
was it worth it?
Susan:
no
Susan:
just wasn't the same
Fia:
so you brought him back to life?
Susan:
yes I had ethan say something nasty and he just woke up
Fia:
so in a way you could say that it was goodbye for a little while?


Susan was so inspired by this post that she decided to go ahead and post exhibit 2. Apparently, she's been saving these conversation for years. God help us all!

Krycek

I watched that show Kyle XY last week and I realized already after two episodes that it lacked one very important ingredience: quality. I had good reason to keep watching all thirteen episodes though.

Nick Lea.

He is getting OLD. It really had me depressed. And filled with nostalgia.

I miss the rat bastard.

Nick Lea, for those who don’t know, is the actor who played my all time favorite character Alex Krycek in The X-files. Small brilliant role. Complex and dark. Kept things interesting but didn’t get to show his face all that often. And then of course Chris Carter thought it was a good idea to kill him off somewhere in season seven (or was it eight?) and that was it for me.

I had already started to loose interest during season five but this was the last straw. Nevermind Duchovny leaving the show or the obvious drop of quality since the move from Vancouver to L.A., who cares? But they killed of Krycek! Stupid ass Carter!

Sadly though, Nick Lea isn’t a brilliant actor. And I was never one of those people who went out and got myself a Krycek clone (oh yes, they exsist... or rather existed). I wasn’t crazy. I just really thought that his character was the only good thing they had left to hold the show together. So watching him in this show that was following the trend of today where all shows have poorly thought out plotlines, two dimensional characters and bad actors, it really bummed me out. Which is why I feel it is my duty to enlighten the public (how very phily of me) to why he is the best TV character ever.

This is where I was about to insert a short video with clips of Krycek. It backfired on me for one of two reasons.

1. I couldn’t work out the technical kinks.
2. The network is down.


I believe this is what they call anticlimax. But I can post the link if anyone is even interested. I mean, this is just me being obsessive. Comes naturally to me. But in any case. I present the unbeatable (lots of puns intended) Krycek:


http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GOTSs0xofo4



I seriously doubt that this is suppose to be slash so don't even go there...

Oh, and I did not make this.

Gettin' High... Apparently

“Don’t take too much of that cough mixture I got you the other day. My boss told me that there is some kind of drug in that so you shouldn’t take too much.”

I’ve managed to get out of the apartment and down to my boyfriend’s old job to have dinner with my boyfriend and my parents. My mother is sitting across the table, neatly folding her napkin to the side. She works in a hospital so her boss is an M.D which inclines me to take her serious.

“Define too much,” I say.

The other night my boyfriend looked at me through a haze of exhaustion while I searched for my lungs somewhere on the floor next to the bed. In lack of a measurement cup I had taken a glass and felt that I already taken more than the bottle required just before I went to bed. Now it felt like it had been less.

“Sweety, I love you but if don’t stop coughing there will be consequences,” my boyfriend informs me and sits up.

I nod like there is a silent agreement that the consequences would mean that under these circumstances it would be OK for him to suffocate me with a pillow. I would understand. I can’t stand this myself. So I go out to the kitchen and have another go at my medicine. Better fill it up this time...

The last thing I remember is the feeling of my head against the pillow. I can’t move, my head is stuck to the pillow. The good news is that I no longer feel the need to cough but I am sure that if I fall asleep it will be the last thing I ever do. I accept these facts and think that if I’m gonna fall in to a coma I better think of something nice just in case I get stuck with my thoughts too. So I think of something nice and then I pass out.

In retrospect, I think I’ve already defined too much.

A Time for Soup and Tea

I have a cold and I feel pathetic.

There is a lot to write about. For one there is my weekend up at my summer place with my boyfriend and our friends. Very successfull voyage. Then there was the election here in Sweden that leaves a lot to be said about.

Unfortunately I can not hold a thought long enough to keep myself interested. I haven't even been able to write my own stuff since before this weekend. So I'm just gonna focus on getting well first.

Too Late for Thoughts

It's 3:30 in the middle of the night and I am suffering from insomnia. I tried writing but I couldn't get to the point. Just mindless conversation about nothing.

Plot? We don't need no stinking plot. Right?

We should make an effort though. PWP becomes a little trite after a while. A little redundant and meaningless when you're trying to develop and grow.

Ha! Who are we kidding? This is just a drug. And we know the timeline will be revised... again. And again.

I have actually been pushing for an idea for about five years. I finally broke her down and got my way. Poking some rather big holes in the timeline. Now she is stuck in that mode along with me and we can't seem to get out. She has seen the light, that's all I have to say about that. That and Hallelulja!

After all, this is us playing God....