Food
Is something I might not be able to afford this month after having spent all my savings, plus plenty more on tickets to Brazil. Am going for two weeks in February for the carneval in Salvador, and to see J's family and friends in Natal. Can't f-ing wait! We'll be a big group of people for carneval which is great. Now I just have to do the boring bit. Wait. And eat cheap food. I'm picturing loads of pasta...
Went to see Seu Jorge at the Roadhouse in Camden last night. Since C's friend F books his concerts in the UK, we had VIP tickets, which meant plenty of space to dance aorund like mad people. It was such a good concert! I feel I need to speed up my portuguese lessons though in order to be able to follow the lyrics in the future. I also want to be a bit more prepared when I go to Brazil. Unfortunately, I had to leave early, but C the lucky cow got to go with the band to their hotel for dinner. Such a groupie...
Halloween party tomorrow. I will either go as Frankestein's bride or Cat Woman (you can choose between a scary or superheroes theme). Am hitting Brick Lanes vintage shops (the cheap ones..) tomorrow to see what I can come up with.
Beijos
Went to see Seu Jorge at the Roadhouse in Camden last night. Since C's friend F books his concerts in the UK, we had VIP tickets, which meant plenty of space to dance aorund like mad people. It was such a good concert! I feel I need to speed up my portuguese lessons though in order to be able to follow the lyrics in the future. I also want to be a bit more prepared when I go to Brazil. Unfortunately, I had to leave early, but C the lucky cow got to go with the band to their hotel for dinner. Such a groupie...
Halloween party tomorrow. I will either go as Frankestein's bride or Cat Woman (you can choose between a scary or superheroes theme). Am hitting Brick Lanes vintage shops (the cheap ones..) tomorrow to see what I can come up with.
Beijos
Changes
Stressful morning. Had a small battle with D over matters relating to our rent, and then I got the bad news from C that she won't be going to Brazil at all, which means I'm going to have to cut my trip in February from 3 weeks to about 10 days. I'll still make carneval in Salvador with J though, and visit her family in Natal. Not so bad after all. And on the plus side, instead of having to get someone to take C's place for 5 months, we get to keep her in the flat. And I love her to bits.
On a much more interesting note, I have a date on Sunday. I would usually squirm over the idea of sitting in front of a stranger, exchanging boring details of our respective lives, and not come across too weird when drooling spagetti or some other non-suitable date food that I always end up choosing down my chin. But this time, I'm going in with an open mind. I won't tell you the story behind it until after, afraid it might jinx it somehow (i.e. on top of the drooling spilling red wine on his white trousers or something. On the other hand, if he would wear white trousers it would probably end up a short date anyway. Unless he was George Clooney. Clooney can wear whatever he likes).
It is a good story though. Just the fact that I have a date is a story in itself I guess, considering my rather strange and pathetic history with men for the past 3.5 years. Although i won't complain. I have learnt loads.
What to stay away from, that is.
On a much more interesting note, I have a date on Sunday. I would usually squirm over the idea of sitting in front of a stranger, exchanging boring details of our respective lives, and not come across too weird when drooling spagetti or some other non-suitable date food that I always end up choosing down my chin. But this time, I'm going in with an open mind. I won't tell you the story behind it until after, afraid it might jinx it somehow (i.e. on top of the drooling spilling red wine on his white trousers or something. On the other hand, if he would wear white trousers it would probably end up a short date anyway. Unless he was George Clooney. Clooney can wear whatever he likes).
It is a good story though. Just the fact that I have a date is a story in itself I guess, considering my rather strange and pathetic history with men for the past 3.5 years. Although i won't complain. I have learnt loads.
What to stay away from, that is.
Cold
It's freezing in London. Literally. Yesterday it even snowed. This is quite amazing in a city where most winters it doesn't snow at all.
I should probably clarify what I mean by snow. When I say snowing, I mean when a 1.5 cm layer of snow settles on the car roofs, but imediately turns to water on the ground. It's more like snowy rain really. But still.
A funny thing with the English is their attitude to cold weather. When I mentions that I am from Scandinavia, people often go 'oooh, you must really be used to/resistant to the cold then?'. Wrong, wrong, wrong. See, coming from a cold country means that you know that the wise thing to do when it's cold, is to put on warm clothes. Like coats, hats and gloves for example. English people on the other hand, tend to be in denial about the temperature just as they are in denial about so many other things. They just don't get the thing about seasons. That's why you see people dressed in tights, some kind of dress and a thin cardigan on your way to work on days like these.
The reply you often get when pointing out the lack of suitable outerwear, is usually something like, 'oh, but I'm wearing wooly tights'. Well, good on you.
I should probably clarify what I mean by snow. When I say snowing, I mean when a 1.5 cm layer of snow settles on the car roofs, but imediately turns to water on the ground. It's more like snowy rain really. But still.
A funny thing with the English is their attitude to cold weather. When I mentions that I am from Scandinavia, people often go 'oooh, you must really be used to/resistant to the cold then?'. Wrong, wrong, wrong. See, coming from a cold country means that you know that the wise thing to do when it's cold, is to put on warm clothes. Like coats, hats and gloves for example. English people on the other hand, tend to be in denial about the temperature just as they are in denial about so many other things. They just don't get the thing about seasons. That's why you see people dressed in tights, some kind of dress and a thin cardigan on your way to work on days like these.
The reply you often get when pointing out the lack of suitable outerwear, is usually something like, 'oh, but I'm wearing wooly tights'. Well, good on you.
Some very good news
Apparently, chocolate is good for you. Or at least not as bad for you as I previously thought.
Yeay!
Yeay!
Oi
Before I forget, those of you who can read Swedish, check out this article, written by my dear friend Ida. I'm so proud of her!
Now what?
Sigh, another gruelling day at the office has commenced... Well, not really. I kind of enjoy what I do (and what I actually do, I've just started to figure out), and the stress factor is so far more than manageable. Before I used to think that project management and planning was a load of BS, but I'm starting ot reconsider that position. And it suits me very well, a control freak as I am..
It's kind of strange, realising that now, I really am an adult. My comfortable (albeit poor and stressful) days of being a student are over, and everything in my life is depending on me, myself and no one else. What do I want to do? What Can I do? Where do I want to do it?
No wonder many people feel pressured and panicked having to face all of those questions at once. I have felt that stress too, especially when asking myself if the mining business really is my dream sector to work in (not really to be honest), but I have told myself to chill for a while, and not get too caught up in the ihavetoearn35kayearbythetimei'm26ori'mahugebigfatfailure hype which is very dominating in London's competitive profesisonal sphere.
'Chilla gumman, satt dig ner, jag fixar disken' (chill out babe, sit down, I'll do the dishes..), as my good friend K used to say back in the day when someone was stressed... Or 'gilla laget' (like the situation (?). Hmm, dodgy translation..), as my mom says when a situation is out of my control.
We all have the responsibility to make the decisions that shape our lives. But all in good time. We have to live a little in between making plans for the future, remember?
It's kind of strange, realising that now, I really am an adult. My comfortable (albeit poor and stressful) days of being a student are over, and everything in my life is depending on me, myself and no one else. What do I want to do? What Can I do? Where do I want to do it?
No wonder many people feel pressured and panicked having to face all of those questions at once. I have felt that stress too, especially when asking myself if the mining business really is my dream sector to work in (not really to be honest), but I have told myself to chill for a while, and not get too caught up in the ihavetoearn35kayearbythetimei'm26ori'mahugebigfatfailure hype which is very dominating in London's competitive profesisonal sphere.
'Chilla gumman, satt dig ner, jag fixar disken' (chill out babe, sit down, I'll do the dishes..), as my good friend K used to say back in the day when someone was stressed... Or 'gilla laget' (like the situation (?). Hmm, dodgy translation..), as my mom says when a situation is out of my control.
We all have the responsibility to make the decisions that shape our lives. But all in good time. We have to live a little in between making plans for the future, remember?
Spatula
How is it that, once the salary enters you account, it has an almost magical way of disappearing within the first few days(nights)? And why on earth is it spent in places like the Dolphin in Hackney on double vodka lime and soda's? Questions I'm sure I have the answers to, somewhere...
Had a really good night with N last night anyway. Was chatted up by a hippie who I think I severely insulted when I told him that the hippie-business was a bit too much.... blah blah, for me. Actually I said bullshit, but it sounds really bad to write it here. I said it with a smile, ok! We had a bit of a friendly banter about it, and I complimented his pink supermanstyle underwear that he was wearing on the outside of his jeans. N borrowed his green-faced friend's spatula and went around spanking people (most of them she knew). All in all it was a very regular night at the Dolphin.
Now I'm going to try to wake C and go for a nice breakfast with her at the Corner.
Btw, check out these photographs . Incredibly powerful images of peoples experiences of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.
Had a really good night with N last night anyway. Was chatted up by a hippie who I think I severely insulted when I told him that the hippie-business was a bit too much.... blah blah, for me. Actually I said bullshit, but it sounds really bad to write it here. I said it with a smile, ok! We had a bit of a friendly banter about it, and I complimented his pink supermanstyle underwear that he was wearing on the outside of his jeans. N borrowed his green-faced friend's spatula and went around spanking people (most of them she knew). All in all it was a very regular night at the Dolphin.
Now I'm going to try to wake C and go for a nice breakfast with her at the Corner.
Btw, check out these photographs . Incredibly powerful images of peoples experiences of the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan.
Anywhere USA
Just home after a late night screening at the BFI for the London film festival with F and C. Saw a very random movie (see title above) about loss, ignorance, and racism and many more things, as experienced by three different sets of people in three parts. The movie was shot in North Carolina, with no professional actors, just people the director and his producer-wife picked up from around the town where they lived. It even had a little man, a dwarf in it. Or is it midget? Can never decide which is which...
Anyway, if you can you should see it. It's funny and different. And weird, as can be expected.
Now I'm going to bed.
Anyway, if you can you should see it. It's funny and different. And weird, as can be expected.
Now I'm going to bed.
Good things English
Tea and cake. Or tea and cookies. Doesn't really matter when the clock strikes afternoon snack time. I have to say that tea time, or afternon tea, is a brilliant intervention. The English are also geniuses when it comes to puddings (chocolate) and crumbles (apple and rhubarb). Oh, and don't forget muffins with jam and clotted cream...
Don't get me wrong, most things here are disastrous compared to back home (sanitation, construction etc). But for desserts, they have pretty much got it 100% right.
Don't get me wrong, most things here are disastrous compared to back home (sanitation, construction etc). But for desserts, they have pretty much got it 100% right.
Now
Dear friends (and others)
I have been a bit low on the blog-front for the past few days. I couldn't really find the inspiration to write anything, nor did I find it appropriate, after I was told of some extremely sad and shocking news on Tuesday. I will not relay any details here, other than to say that a dear friend departed us recently, someone loved and respected by many. One wonders what is the meaning of life if it has to end before properly starting. I guess the meaning has to be found in the moment, rather than in some distant future. It is what we do right now, our passions, and the relationships we have with people right now, that gives meaning to our lives. It is easy to forget this. Not that this is much of a consolation to anyone right now. I guess all one can do, is cling to one's memories, they after all, will never loose their meaning.
Good night
I have been a bit low on the blog-front for the past few days. I couldn't really find the inspiration to write anything, nor did I find it appropriate, after I was told of some extremely sad and shocking news on Tuesday. I will not relay any details here, other than to say that a dear friend departed us recently, someone loved and respected by many. One wonders what is the meaning of life if it has to end before properly starting. I guess the meaning has to be found in the moment, rather than in some distant future. It is what we do right now, our passions, and the relationships we have with people right now, that gives meaning to our lives. It is easy to forget this. Not that this is much of a consolation to anyone right now. I guess all one can do, is cling to one's memories, they after all, will never loose their meaning.
Good night
Ebay
I received a jacket I bough on Ebay today. I though buying a Barbour jacket for £100 was a bargain, but in the end it wasn't a very good idea. You know how a picture is supposed to say more than a 1000 words? Well, in this case the picture told me brown, when it in fact was burgundy. And the sleeves were too short. I hate buying winter coats, or any piece of clothing that you will wear for a long period of time, and that needs to be sturdy and generally a good investment. (Dagens i-landsproblem). I'm gonna end up with some panic-buy polyester thing from H&M like last year.
Went to visit my dear GP today. Ended up walking out with a goody-bag full of condoms (don't ask me why..). Why is it they have so many unwanted teenage pregnancies in the UK again? They wouldn't if my doctor had something to say about it.
Oh, and today we hate, or at least dislike Kate Moss (more than usual). Please stop plugging yourself and your friends so blatantly. You really don't need the extra publicity you overrated clotheshorse. 'My favourite dress is in my line at topshop, my favourite perfume is my very own Kate Moss perfume...blah blah blah'. Has anyone actually heard this woman open her mouth?
Now I'm going to see what my dear flatmate D is cooking that smells like dog food.
Boa noite
Went to visit my dear GP today. Ended up walking out with a goody-bag full of condoms (don't ask me why..). Why is it they have so many unwanted teenage pregnancies in the UK again? They wouldn't if my doctor had something to say about it.
Oh, and today we hate, or at least dislike Kate Moss (more than usual). Please stop plugging yourself and your friends so blatantly. You really don't need the extra publicity you overrated clotheshorse. 'My favourite dress is in my line at topshop, my favourite perfume is my very own Kate Moss perfume...blah blah blah'. Has anyone actually heard this woman open her mouth?
Now I'm going to see what my dear flatmate D is cooking that smells like dog food.
Boa noite
Winter symptoms
Well, you know Christmas is approaching when Lidl starts selling santa-inspired chocolates (chokladtomtar)... Alternatively they're just trying to shift what got left over from last year before it expires. Before we know it Regent Street will be one massive ode to Disney, in the shape of Christmas lights of characters in the latest Disney flick.
But there are other signs that winter is coming. I can't stop eating satsumas (I have always for some reason associated the smell with this time of the year..), my lips get cracked in the cold, and I have started wearing my lambskin indoor slippers. Tea is never as good as it is now, and I feel very reluctant to leave the cosyness of my room. I went for a run through Victoria Park today, and amidst all the yellow trees and leaves on the ground, the pink roses were still blooming. Beautiful.
Ray LaMontagne is a perfect soundtrack at the moment.
Tomorrow will be an interesting day in the office. I'll have to face Z who's coming in for a last meeting with our office managers. She's a colleague who just quit under not-so-nice circumstances, and whom I never really got along that well with. And after that the rest of us will have to buckle up for our own discussion with the management regarding some new policies imposed on us that we find less than acceptable. Hopefully I'll be able to report a satisfactory outcome.
Now eu must etudo meu portuguese homework.
Ciao
But there are other signs that winter is coming. I can't stop eating satsumas (I have always for some reason associated the smell with this time of the year..), my lips get cracked in the cold, and I have started wearing my lambskin indoor slippers. Tea is never as good as it is now, and I feel very reluctant to leave the cosyness of my room. I went for a run through Victoria Park today, and amidst all the yellow trees and leaves on the ground, the pink roses were still blooming. Beautiful.
Ray LaMontagne is a perfect soundtrack at the moment.
Tomorrow will be an interesting day in the office. I'll have to face Z who's coming in for a last meeting with our office managers. She's a colleague who just quit under not-so-nice circumstances, and whom I never really got along that well with. And after that the rest of us will have to buckle up for our own discussion with the management regarding some new policies imposed on us that we find less than acceptable. Hopefully I'll be able to report a satisfactory outcome.
Now eu must etudo meu portuguese homework.
Ciao
Magnum
Icecream for breakfast. The cold is good for my head. Had too much wine again yesterday. Met some very nice people though.
After work I went to King's Road and had a couple of drinks with J and some of her colleagues. Very nice guys. After that I went home to find the flat full of people and C cooking another amazing meal (who would have though broccoli and coconut goes well together in a soup?). Then we went and had some drinks at the Cat and Mutton on Broadway market, where we drooled over the gorgeous barman and got invited to a halloween party by a beardy guy wearing sandals. He had one very crooked toe. Then home to consume more wine, where we also solved the worlds problems. Or at least argued about it.
All in all, a good night.
Now I'm going swimming.
After work I went to King's Road and had a couple of drinks with J and some of her colleagues. Very nice guys. After that I went home to find the flat full of people and C cooking another amazing meal (who would have though broccoli and coconut goes well together in a soup?). Then we went and had some drinks at the Cat and Mutton on Broadway market, where we drooled over the gorgeous barman and got invited to a halloween party by a beardy guy wearing sandals. He had one very crooked toe. Then home to consume more wine, where we also solved the worlds problems. Or at least argued about it.
All in all, a good night.
Now I'm going swimming.
I heart Jamie
I mean, this guys is a champion. No not only for schoolkinds everywhere, or for chickens, but now also for pigs. I applauded him when he told off the mothers of Rotherham for saying that they only could 'afford' fast food for their kids, and now I applaud him for looking into the castration, rearing and slaughter practices of pigs in the UK, which I am guessing is more than often below par.
And he can cook. What a guy.
And he can cook. What a guy.
Genesis
Is the name of mine and D's movie theater in Whitechapel. It's cheap, it's realieable, the toilets are just a little bit disgusting, and they have no pre-allocated seats. Brilliant.
Last night we saw 'How to loose friends and alienate people', with Simon Pegg, Kirsten Dunst etc. I thought the title was very appropriate considering my mood yesterday. It was an ok movie. Got a few good laughs out of it. My favourite quote is when Simon Pegg comes to sit down next to Kirsten Dunst character, whereby she says, 'I don't mean to be unfriendly, but what the FUCK do you want?'. No bullshit and staight to the point. Obviously after that, they end up the best of friends etc etc, and everyone lives happily ever after.
Or something.
Now, iron shirt for work.
Btw, D thinks that I shouldn't write so many entries in my blog. I think she thinks it makes me too 'available' or not as mysterious or something. I'm gonna try to write more just to annoy her.
hajhaj
Last night we saw 'How to loose friends and alienate people', with Simon Pegg, Kirsten Dunst etc. I thought the title was very appropriate considering my mood yesterday. It was an ok movie. Got a few good laughs out of it. My favourite quote is when Simon Pegg comes to sit down next to Kirsten Dunst character, whereby she says, 'I don't mean to be unfriendly, but what the FUCK do you want?'. No bullshit and staight to the point. Obviously after that, they end up the best of friends etc etc, and everyone lives happily ever after.
Or something.
Now, iron shirt for work.
Btw, D thinks that I shouldn't write so many entries in my blog. I think she thinks it makes me too 'available' or not as mysterious or something. I'm gonna try to write more just to annoy her.
hajhaj
Yes boss
Today I am in a very bad mood. Partly because of the female curse, but mainly because of ridiculous instructions from one of our bosses regarding new regulations in the office. I won't bore you with the details, other than to say that MY FOOD DOESN'T SMELL, AND PLEASE DON'T TALK TO ME AS IF I WAS AN IDIOT. Instead I want to discuss the wider picture here.
In all my jobs here in London, me and my various co-workers have always been expected to smile to whoever is in charge, and politiely say, 'yes boss/sir/madame/miss', no matter how absurd their request, or how rude they have been. I am very aware that in Sweden, bosses can be equally ass-holic, but the overall attitude to people in your employment and other co-workers is a hell of a lot better. I think this is partly because in Sweden we're not that fussed with hierarchies: we don't have a tradition of keeping servants (or even cleaners!), and we don't have a habit of considering people inferior to you becasue of a difference in income or 'rank'. English and Angolan people (the ones I'm battling with here), are on the contrary often obsessed with hierarchy and giving and obeying orders. People are simply not equals.
I know that as an employer, you do pay the wages and has all the rights in the world to instruct your employees on how to behave and dress etc in the workplace. But for god's sake, do so with some reason and with some respect. And have a dialogue with people, instead of holding monologues. You're not bloody Shakespeare.
How I wish I could tell my boss this. And maybe I will when this credit crunch is over and I would actually be able to get another job after she fires me.
Have a lovely day
In all my jobs here in London, me and my various co-workers have always been expected to smile to whoever is in charge, and politiely say, 'yes boss/sir/madame/miss', no matter how absurd their request, or how rude they have been. I am very aware that in Sweden, bosses can be equally ass-holic, but the overall attitude to people in your employment and other co-workers is a hell of a lot better. I think this is partly because in Sweden we're not that fussed with hierarchies: we don't have a tradition of keeping servants (or even cleaners!), and we don't have a habit of considering people inferior to you becasue of a difference in income or 'rank'. English and Angolan people (the ones I'm battling with here), are on the contrary often obsessed with hierarchy and giving and obeying orders. People are simply not equals.
I know that as an employer, you do pay the wages and has all the rights in the world to instruct your employees on how to behave and dress etc in the workplace. But for god's sake, do so with some reason and with some respect. And have a dialogue with people, instead of holding monologues. You're not bloody Shakespeare.
How I wish I could tell my boss this. And maybe I will when this credit crunch is over and I would actually be able to get another job after she fires me.
Have a lovely day
Scary stuff
A reportage in the Times from a Republican rally with Sarah Palin in Virginia.
"Mr Taylor complained about the trip to Europe that Mr Obama took in July: “I don't think the president of the US should go around saying, 'I'm a citizen of the world'.” One beefy man wore a T-shirt proclaiming: “The difference between Obama and Osama is just a little B.S.""
Racism, plain and simple.
"Mr Taylor complained about the trip to Europe that Mr Obama took in July: “I don't think the president of the US should go around saying, 'I'm a citizen of the world'.” One beefy man wore a T-shirt proclaiming: “The difference between Obama and Osama is just a little B.S.""
Racism, plain and simple.
Gloves, anyone?
Two things this morning:
1. I want this. Well, really I want the new Macbook Pro, but there is no way in hell that I can afford it. Actually, I can't afford either, but maybe if I paid a visit to my friend M who recently started working as a manager at Apple....
2. In the Swedish press, it is today reported that one in four Brits can be found to have traces of feces on their hands. Living in London and using buses and the tube daily, it is quite disturbing to hear that this study was conducted among commuters. The study was done by the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine.
If you'll excuse me, I'm now going to wash my hands.
1. I want this. Well, really I want the new Macbook Pro, but there is no way in hell that I can afford it. Actually, I can't afford either, but maybe if I paid a visit to my friend M who recently started working as a manager at Apple....
2. In the Swedish press, it is today reported that one in four Brits can be found to have traces of feces on their hands. Living in London and using buses and the tube daily, it is quite disturbing to hear that this study was conducted among commuters. The study was done by the London School of Hygiene and Tropical Medicine.
If you'll excuse me, I'm now going to wash my hands.
Poolside incompetence
Aaaarrrggghhh. I have started to become pretty disillusioned with my local swimming hangout. Relatively clean by East London standards, and sporting an amazing 33 meter pool, I thought I found swimming heaven at York Hall Leisure Centre in Bethnal Green. I was also glad to see that they have women only on Tuesdays evenings, which means that you don't have to swim next to fat men who uses their goggles less for crawling than for staring at you under water. 'Women only' nights are mainly for all the muslim women who live in the area, and who can't show their bodies to men, not even when clad top-to-toe in lycra pantsuits, when swimming (except for, oddly enough, the male staff that works there..).
Anyway, the staff has decided that most of these muslim woman can't swim (probably thanks to some bloody social worker/anthropologist on a mission) and cuts off half of the pool for these non-swimmers in the shallow end with a rope, and by that also cutting off the excercise lanes for the rest of us. I complain, and suggest a better way of doing it and get a 'we've always done it like this' bullshit answer back from some annoying... female dog.
What annoys me most is that most of the muslim women who are in the pool, can in fact swim. Very well even. And the ones who can't doesn't give a f*ck about the little enclosure created for them, being fully capable, adult as they are, to judge themselves how deep they can go before drowning.
Being a muslim woman might mean that you have to swim wearing half your wardrobe, but it doesn't, as the staff at York Hall seem to think, mean that you are stupid.
There. I got it off my chest. Am starting to see the full potential of this blog. Just wait until I get pre-mentrual...
Night night
Helium
If I were Gordon Brown I'd be jealous of our Swedish Prime Minister and his "wacky" way of charming the Swedish public.
I say no more.
I say no more.
Our house
I can no longer imagine living on my own. How boring. For the past 4 years I have shared a house with at least two people. At the most I shared a two bedroom flat with five other girls. That was at the beginning of this London adventure. One is forced to open up, to compromise, and to accept that everyone isn't as anal when it comes to keeping things tidy as you (that is, me). Casa de Shore Road is an eclectic mix of Brazilian (samba), Italian (cheese) and Swedish (filmjolk) influences.
My house is currently filled with people - Italian, Brazilian and British, and lil ol'me. I'm sitting in my room researching the vast blog community that exist out there, enjoying the buzz from the livingroom. I guess that is also how you can describe the blog world. A livingroom, full of opinions and stories that are made public and meaningful by the people who write them.
Blogs can be many things. They can be a form of protest, like Generation Y; and they can be a way to revisit subjects and consider their relevance today, as in Regrets only: An Africa Journal (I can't get the link function to work, but I have added both blogs to my personal links). What I think blogs in general have in common is their almost meditative quality. A way of releasing what is pushing to get out. It doesn't really matter what.
Just as how sharing a household can make you to open up, and to constantly add things to your cultural frame of reference, the blog community does something similar. I think it's amazing. Freedom of speech and all that...
My flatmate just brought me some Tiramisu. Delicia. I'm going to enjoy that, and then sleep.
Life is good.
Lunchbreak
Today we are only women in the office. I'm reluctant to say it it, but it does makes a difference to the over-all vibe and working pattern. Somehow whenever this is the case, we more often than usually end up in the kitchen/reception area talking about our employers and how...well, strange they are. Becasue they are. At least in my books. I work for a diamond mining company, and the people who owns it, come from very varied and wealthy backgrounds. When I first started working for the group as a PA, I was chocked at the money these people have and are willing to spend just to maintain a certain lifestyle. Paying £10000 for a private jet flight within Europe does not make sense to me when you can fly commercial for a fraction of the price. Neither does owning 30 sport cars. But hey, var och en blir salig pa sin tro, as my mom says. I just really don't think it makes you happy.
I had another Portuguese lesson at work today. Now we have started describing different rooms in a house. I say thank god that our lovely teacher is also a patient one.
Oh god. Just saw picture evidence from a night out on Friday. I am ashamed to say that I am having problems recognising quite a few of the faces. For some reason, alcohol induced amnesia has started hitting me now. Never when I was younger. A bad sign.
Oh, and thank you Ida for your good advise. I can't think of any better nickname for you than the obvious one that rhymes (in swedish), but I though I'd better not use it..
Ok. Back to work.
This might be a very bad idea..
Ok. Am not quite sure how to go about doing this, nor am I convinced this whole blog-thing is really my cup of tea. My good friend I (apparently one does not publish whole names in this online world of confession) suggested I start a blog, perhaps so that she can keep herself updated about my life the way I am about hers through her blog. Oh well, here I am, but now many questions arises, practical and other..
1. Do I write in Swedish or English? I have lived in London for four years now, and have spoken English more or less fluently for much longer. Also, if by any chance my friends here in London would want to read my clever words, English would be the more... social choice. But on the other hand, Swedish is and always will be my mother tongue. I do think that there is a part of me, cultural but also personal, that lives in my Swedish southern accent. I think I'll go for a Swenglish solution. I'll mix and match. Whatever suits my mood.
2. Which brings me to my second question. What will I fill this space with? Just by signing up I have essentially created something dedicated to ME. And I have never been that good at sharing too much about myself. But maybe it's easier to share here. You are after all more able to edit yourself here than in real life. I'm sure I'll think of something.
3. Who am I writing for? For myself? Or an unknown faceless person? Will my family read this? Or other people (read men) I don't want this close to me. There are a few. But I guess when writing your own blog, you don't really get to make that choice. I'm not going to publish my name here however. My friends who read it will know anyway, and for the rest of you.. you don't need it.
Many questions. If I last longer than a week at this, I'll give them some proper consideration.
Now, sleep. Oh, and the name of the blog, 'We the living', is the name of a novel by Ayn Rand. I'll speak about her some other time.
Sleep well.
