Tuesday, November 21, 2017

I have no idea what I'm doing.

I have no idea what I'm doing. This comes as no surprise to anyone.
Well, first thing first, I managed to change the setting for comments to Open ID. I do not know what open ID is except that I think I remember that it is something that always is a problem for me when I surf onto a blog that has it.
So why would I want to cause problems for anyone else, one might ask.
Well, first of all, I don't think many people, if anyone is reading this blog.
Second, it felt right to click that link.
Third, it kept me away from doing what I was supposed to do.

See, I am thinking about getting Instagram. Everyone has IG.
Even Iggy Pop's cockatoo has it. It's things like that that makes me think I might have missed something.
Then again, no one can procrastinate like I can.
So, instead of jumping on the IG train like a tiger I click buttons that I'm not sure of what they will do, I write here and I relax.

The thing is that people think that being a procrastinator is easy and that we are lazy. We're not, no people are so successful at doing other stuff as a procrastinator.
We get a lot of things done. We also think a lot of thoughts. People think that thinking takes no effort. That is wrong.
If people spent more time thinking we wouldn't have an orange clown in the States. The people who voted for him didn't think or if they thought they clearly didn't think enough.

Procrastinators would never do a thing like that. We think. And then we think again. And again. 
Which reminds me, I should think about IG a bit. Again.

Friday, September 22, 2017

A week just like way back then....

I spent a week or so without the Internet. I heard someone saying something stupid like 'it's important to keep up to date with what social media says'. Saying that, meaning celebrities. It just pissed me off thinking that anyone think that what some obscure celebrity has to say (which most of the time is nothing in the majority) should be important to keep up to date with.
And then I thought, why not spend the time as I did before I was online?
Why not? I did come online to talk to some friends when they gave a shout out or whatever it's called, besides that nothing, nada, njet, inget.

The fun thing was calling people through messenger, trying to avoid the text-messages and making it more like 'way before when'. I am an introvert but it is sometimes fun to jump out of the shell and do things I usually don't. Also fun to call people that did not expect it. Made me smile. A lot.
Did I miss it? Not much, really. I think knowing it was there if I really needed it was enough. Instead I read books, tons of books, wrote letters and listened to music. I mean, really listened. With all my senses.
And I didn't miss other peoples opinions much. 
What I did realize was how much I missed writing. Getting blue fingers from the ink, hearing the sound of the pen to the paper. It is magic, you know.
It is also magic knowing that the writing will bring smiles to persons you send it too. Hopefully.
And I cooked, new world record when it came to the tomato sauce, one hour! Smiling, thinking about Gian, the Italian. And I made autumn soups.
And I thought, so much thoughts that somehow felt clearer without all the input from a thousand different voices. It's strange, right?
I cleaned the house (boring as hell, still, that shit never becomes fun...) and invented a thousand new words that I wrote down to have in the future.
A good time all in all.

Monday, August 28, 2017

If you can walk like an elk drunk on fermented apples you got it made.

...meanwhile in another universe a president is sitting rt'ing inspirational quotes by Mother Theresa. It's true that I heard that it's said that anyone can become president in the States and well, what do you know... Seems like it's true.

....meanwhile, in a little kingdom called Sweden a lot of commercials and advertisements are in English... I have no idea why, really, maybe the people creating commercials think it sounds cooler or something... Like a boat company that were bragging about their cruises and ended it with 'just saying'.
I read about what 'just saying' means and according to the Cambridge dictionary it says it means 'I'm) just saying. ​ informal used when you are making a criticism or complaint, to make it less likely to offend someone:

....meanwhile there's new trends coming and I got some interesting texts from a company telling me that this is my last chance (ever?) to get 50% off if I buy something from the new trendy curtain collection.
Since I'm a rebel (well, I would like to think I am) I won't buy any trendy curtains. I'm sticking with my untrendy cool curtains. 

....meanwhile I'm thinking of charisma, even the old charming philosopher Gene Simmons have thought about it, in the epic song 'Charisma' he sings 'Is it my fortune or my fame
Is it my money or my name
Is it my personality
Or just my sexuality, yeah, yeah'

I have no idea what it is either but I know people who have or had it.
Bon Scott, on a conversation of fb I said that he doesn't seem to seek attention, well knowing he'll get it anyway so he doesn't really care. Seems effortless and still every one's eyes are looking at him. When we're not looking at Angus.

There are many others with that charisma, something that just makes them special. There was a Swedish poet, named Ferlin, he had it. I went to buy one of his books in an antiquariat (hell knows what that is called in English but you get the picture...) and the guy behind the counter looked at Ferlin's photo on the book and said 'Oh, he wasn't a very good looking man...'
I think I just stared at the guy first because I always thought Ferlin had something special, a very interesting face as well as what seemed to be a very interesting soul. 
I had a friend who was beautiful, there is no other way to describe him, hair like golden wheat that has matured (or whatever the hell you want to call it in English) under the sun, blue eyes that shone like a lamp, body like a Greek or Roman god and you wouldn't have been surprised if little birds and bees would have followed in his footsteps.
His appearance left me totally cold. He was too perfect. Way too perfect. It was like looking at at picture. A good picture but still not so good that I wanted to buy it and take it home and hang it on the wall.
Then I had a friend who wasn't beautiful, his appearance was pretty much like a young elk stumbling around in the woods a bit high on fermented apples.
But he was funny. Funny as hell. He had charm. And charisma.
And I never seen anyone have so many women as him. 

I think that is what counts for many of us. Charm, humor and charisma and a way of walking like a drunk young elk. Totally irresistible.

Thursday, August 24, 2017

This is bullshit.

I read an interesting study saying that highly intelligent people aren't too fond of cleaning the house.
I guess this means I'm a fucking genius. This morning I had a long peptalk to myself and then I grabbed the hoover. I don't know how many times I said 'This is bullshit!' while hoovering.
First; it won't take any time before it gets messy again, right?

Second; but if I'm a genius why do I insist on having having 13 cushions on the couch ? Not only do I have to hoover every cushion and sort of work my way down to get to the couch. When I'm done hoovering the cushions I have to hoover the couch as well. Since the cats love to be on the couch. And thinking further, it isn't that hard to understand that the couch always feels crowded, is it? There is me, two cats and 13 cushions. 
I should really get rid off the cushions but I really like the way it looks with them on the couch. It looks like a kid's dream of a cushion house you know?
Yes... I know... I'm a middle aged woman who doesn't build cushion houses anymore. Well, that is not the truth... I do. For the cats. And just like that we can all now categorize me as 'crazy cat lady'.

And then, when I'm done with the Sisyphus work with the cushions I can amuse myself with the giant rug in the bedroom. I inherited it from my father and it is like walking on bouncy wool. The rug sort of welcomes your feet and then bounce away your feet again. I know, I can hear you say 'Are you sure it's not a trampoline you have in the bedroom?' Yes. I am sure. Almost.

So, after the rug I can try and hoover up the cat litter that the cats spread around the floors like they were dancing some weird cat litter tango every time they walk out of the bathroom.

When I'm done, I can sit down and feel a slight relief. It takes maybe 2 minutes and one of the cats goes into the litter box and comes out and dances a wild macarena on the floor sprinkling new sand on the floors. Leading me to say 'This is bullshit.'


Wednesday, August 23, 2017

Homer, bananas, tomato sauce. Sounds like a recipe, right?

It's 4½ years since I wrote here, I read some stuff I wrote way back then and think it's funny how much things haven't changed but people has.
I spent three days writing on this blog and another blog, deleted a lot of stuff I wrote to be published here and left some at the other to keep private.
It's good to be back, I guess, the Swedish blog has been rolling on for awhile again so why not spread the words to this one as well.
Lately I haven't had too many good nights of sleep, seems my brain loves to start to think when I put my head on the pillow.
Last night I wished I was Homer, back then people didn't mind epic and endless things, well, those who could read, I imagine. Nowadays people like me that are long winded need to know how to focus (how do you do that?) and be short and concise.  It was one of the reasons I first joined twitter for in fact. I wanted to learn how to be short and concise. Also, I wanted an outlet where no one knew me. 
Anyway, from Homer and endlessness my thoughts went to homemade cookies, when I was a kid I spent my summers at my 'summer mum's' house. Met with my aunts and grandma and they all had homemade cookies. But the real thing was those bought in stores. Omg, how I wanted those first. Really wanted them.
Nowadays it is the opposite, if someone has baked I will be first in line. Things change.
From cookies my thoughts went to my father and his bananas. He always bought them and usually they turned brown and inedible, once I asked him why he bought him and he explained to me that he couldn't pass the bananas without buying them, not because he liked bananas, he didn't, but it was like a force making him having to buy them. After that, every time I was at his house and saw the bananas I said 'So, you caved in again?' and he just laughed.
From bananas and my father I thought I have the same force when it comes to tomatoes. Luckily I like tomatoes but I can't pass any tomatoes without buying some. Right now I have three big tomatoes, and two boxes of cherry tomatoes in the fridge. Saturday I'm going to the supermarket again and yes, I will come home with some more. Bring it on, I know how to make a damn good tomato sauce. 
And from tomato sauce the step wasn't long to think about the man who taught me how to make real tomato sauce. He was Italian and every time I make this sauce I think about him, in my kitchen, he was cooking the tomato sauce and it had been on the stove forever and I was hungry as ten wolves and said 'Isn't it done soon?'
He just stared at me and then said, very slowly, 'You. Do. Not. Stress. A. Tomato. Sauce. Katarina. Never. Ever!'
And he was right, you do not stress a tomato sauce. It was the best damn tomato sauce I ever tasted. Mine is good. Very good. But not as good as his was. I'll get there one day. One day.....
Anyway, I'll wrap up this endless thing, I also thought about Danny Collins, laundry people and hairdressers, basements and keys that doesn't fit but I still insist on having, wondering where they might fit but I don't want to bore you to sleep. Unless you also have a problem with sleeping, then, yes. I definitely do want to bore you to sleep.

Thursday, February 7, 2013

"I'm ba-a-a-ck...."

2½ years go by so fast, right?
June 2010 was my last post and here I am again.
Better and improved (no, not really, but changed in some ways, some ways for the better, some for the worse...)
Anyway, due to a bad back I've spent a lot of time watching the telly lately.
There are so many things one doesn't need to know and so many things that get one thinking 'really?' and realize (once again) that it takes all kind of creatures to inhabit this earth. Some walk on two legs and call themselves humans...

One afternoon I watch a couple who's gonna build a house. All according to the latest trends and what's 'in'.
The program dude says 'But in five, ten years, maybe all this will be out of fashion and not trendy anymore?'
And the couple says 'Oh.....Well, it's a risk one have to take..' and they both look oh so brave.

And I thought to myself, 'No, that is not a 'risk', that is a proof that you don't have any own taste and that you totally bought in on the idea of 'trendy' and really think that trends are more important than what you might like, in fact, maybe you don't even know what you like, do you?'

Yes, I know. I am a critical bastard. But trends, why? Seriously? Nothing makes me smile more than reading about 'this is in this month' and 'this is out that month'. Who says? 

You know, (or you don't) but when I was a kid, what bugged me most was the fact that everyone told me what to do, what to say, what to eat and what to wear.
I remember how I so many times thought 'I can't *wait!* until I am old enough to decide for myself. No one ever is going to tell me what to wear or eat or look like ever again!

Luckily I found out that I didn't need to grow up to a 'mature' being. (whatever that is, to me, still to this day, 'mature' sounds very boring and makes me feel like someone who is mature probably is cemented with boring attributes and never do anything impulsive or say 'shit' in public and their favorite hobbies are couple's dinners with candles lit all over the table (in a responsible way of course). And yes, I know  it is a very judgemental way of looking at 'mature' but yep, that is the way I feel about 'mature'. 

Or they are the same people who say 'don't sit on the table, it might brake'.
Hm.
Ok.. Well, it just hit me, that I would say that myself. But only because it is a glass table. Anyone can sit on my kitchen table (which will actually break then) it is a very old table, and the legs look sometimes like they want to run away from each other (usually after I placed three bag of groceries, one cat (giant) is sitting on top of it eating on the plastic materials in the bag and a couple of books have been placed upon it.) 
Anyway, nothing a good hammer can't fix. Which is why I almost always have hammer on the kitchen bench. Also makes no one argue about my cooking skills seeing the hammer.


Hm, where were we? 
Yes, I remember now... I didn't need to grow up to a 'mature being', teenage years showed me (and my father, bless his heart and yes, as he says, it is lucky he never had a predisposition for gray hear) that I didn't need to wait to become adult to decide what to do, what to say and what to wear.

And trends and so on....
Well, isn't it a mystery that people choose to be like everyone else? Why have the same wallpaper as anyone else? The clothes everyone else is wearing? Why? Conformity is boring..
The sense of belonging doesn't work, even if one has the same clothes as one's neighbor, because everyone feels different on the inside, and that is the way it should be, right?
We are different, not made to be like everyone else. We should be damn proud of what makes us differ from anyone else. Embrace it, dammit!

And can it really make someone happier knowing that the neighbor got a new car and you bought exactly the same one, or maybe, you bought one with more accessories?
Does that really make one's mind happier? After the first feeling of 'yay, I got it!'?
Hmm.. I don't know.. 
Anyway, just a lil rambling to sort of get my fingers working and the blog working and (not to mention) the joy of mishandling the English lingo again.
Yay, me.... ;)

Thursday, June 3, 2010

The Woodruff Special.


My friend Jocke's "The Woodruff Special.
The lowest VW in the world?