Best Feeling in the World:
Jamming to your iPod, walking down a secluded bridle path in the middle of a gorgeous Norwegian meadow on a (chilly) spring day. No one can see you, you are warmed up from your exercise, and Cameo's immaculate jam "Word Up" comes on to play. What do you do? You throw down with your best fashion gal cat walk dance-o-rama, groovin' and shakin' for all it's worth, singin' like the Beyonce you know you are, but keep hidden from the rest of the world. You are Stealth Beyonce, after all, you don't want to make the world jealous by flaunting your brilliance. WORD UP! IT'S THE CODE WORD! NO MATTER HOW YOU SAY IT YOU KNOW THAT YOU'LL BE HEARD! WOO!.
Ah, but this being my life, Best Feeling in the World is rapidly followed by...
Worst Feeling In the World:
When in the midst of your jam and your best completely raunchy booty shake, a group of bike riders comes wooshing by you from behind, you having not seen nor heard them due to your closed eyes and cranked iPod. They give you the thumbs up and a couple of "Woo woo's!" in the manner of "Jam on, crazy old lady!".
Why oh why can't I ever just be cool?
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Tuesday, May 30, 2006
Just when you are at your ebb....
....I am assuming "ebb" is the low point, right?
Anyhow, I have been in a funk for about two weeks now. The weather has been overcast and rainy and chilly, nothing is materializing with my "job", my energy is nonexistent. I look like crap, I'm tired and am frankly bored. I smell like eggs because I am forcing myself to eat two of them every morning in an affort to get into the breakfasting habit. (Urg, I don't like breakfast. At least, not FOR breakfast.) I think about making jewelry or starting that writing project that I keep thinking about, but I just don't feel that creative spark. Even blogging seems to be a big effort. I've been oddly stressed and slothful at the same time. I feel discombobulated and out of sorts.
I've been going for walks whenever the weather holds out long enough for me to get out there, and that usually perks me up. I listen to my podcasts and think about whatever pops into my head. It's usually very therapeutic. I went out today but I just couldn't get into it. I felt like I was heaving myself along the paths. So I gave up and went to the local shopping center. I tried some retail therapy and that did not work as there is nothing I really like or need or want, and what I would consider buying is either WAY too expensive or isn't cut right for my body. (I would KILL for a nice American mall at this point.)
Imagine how I felt, then, after a completely unproductive egg-smelling, energyless, nothing-fits-I -am-a-fat-cow day, when I checked the mailbox and found that Bookhart sent me a care package from the US! I burst into tears just seeing the notice. It was like Christmas coming suddenly on the worst day of your life. I pulled myself together enough to literally RUN to the post office to get my goodies:
NONE of it is diet food, it's all processed and colorful and bad for me and I thank her from every fiber of my being for sending it to me! I've been CRAVING Fruit Loops because my dish washing soap smells like them. She sends me sponges because the ones here are crappy foam rubber ones and they squeak and feel icky and I hate them. She sent me dried onions because they cost, like, $8 for a small bottle here. Kraft Mac and Cheese!!...'nuff said! Fruity Pebbles! Cherry Twizzlers! Cherry Sours! Big Red Gum! Taco and guac mix!
The best part, though, is the love. She sent me a big box of love. I'm verklempt. Talk amongst yourselves, I'll give you a topic.....
Anyhow, I have been in a funk for about two weeks now. The weather has been overcast and rainy and chilly, nothing is materializing with my "job", my energy is nonexistent. I look like crap, I'm tired and am frankly bored. I smell like eggs because I am forcing myself to eat two of them every morning in an affort to get into the breakfasting habit. (Urg, I don't like breakfast. At least, not FOR breakfast.) I think about making jewelry or starting that writing project that I keep thinking about, but I just don't feel that creative spark. Even blogging seems to be a big effort. I've been oddly stressed and slothful at the same time. I feel discombobulated and out of sorts.
I've been going for walks whenever the weather holds out long enough for me to get out there, and that usually perks me up. I listen to my podcasts and think about whatever pops into my head. It's usually very therapeutic. I went out today but I just couldn't get into it. I felt like I was heaving myself along the paths. So I gave up and went to the local shopping center. I tried some retail therapy and that did not work as there is nothing I really like or need or want, and what I would consider buying is either WAY too expensive or isn't cut right for my body. (I would KILL for a nice American mall at this point.)
Imagine how I felt, then, after a completely unproductive egg-smelling, energyless, nothing-fits-I -am-a-fat-cow day, when I checked the mailbox and found that Bookhart sent me a care package from the US! I burst into tears just seeing the notice. It was like Christmas coming suddenly on the worst day of your life. I pulled myself together enough to literally RUN to the post office to get my goodies:
NONE of it is diet food, it's all processed and colorful and bad for me and I thank her from every fiber of my being for sending it to me! I've been CRAVING Fruit Loops because my dish washing soap smells like them. She sends me sponges because the ones here are crappy foam rubber ones and they squeak and feel icky and I hate them. She sent me dried onions because they cost, like, $8 for a small bottle here. Kraft Mac and Cheese!!...'nuff said! Fruity Pebbles! Cherry Twizzlers! Cherry Sours! Big Red Gum! Taco and guac mix! The best part, though, is the love. She sent me a big box of love. I'm verklempt. Talk amongst yourselves, I'll give you a topic.....
Monday, May 29, 2006
In which I show I don't know nuthin' about nuthin'
I've updated some blog links in the sidebar. Unfortunately, in doing so, some fonts went bigger and some went smaller and I don't frigging know why. So, if you find the link to you being in little bitty print, it's NOT because I don't love you (and I am not being a Texan-ist) it's just I don't effing know HOW that happened. Methinks I need to take a web design course. And I bet this looks like shit in Internet Explorer, but as it almost pains me to even open that software now, I really never check. Anyone wanna help me make this blog look like a real blog and not like a badly managed Blogger template? Can work out trade and post you credit for your help.
Other news:
Haven't lost any weight at all. I've been walking and stuff, but apparently my newly aged metabolism is all about building me a little belly. THAT is not acceptable. Big ass, I can handle. Belly? No effing WAY. Will have to go to step two. Which I am not happy about. To that end: I can only have my mochchocolattayayas twice a week. No soft drinks, but if I am CRAVING one I can go get a small can of Coke but only if I walk to the farthest end of town for it. No drinking during the week. And (*weep*) I believe I will have to institute portion control. Hell and damnation.
Next week we are going to Milan. I tried, today, to book tickets to see The Last Supper, but the lady on the phone was very nice when she sort of snorted and said "Sorry! Nothing available until mid July!" Arg.
I didn't want to see that stinky old masterpiecce anyhow.
While in Milan I am going to get my hairs done somewhere fabulous, so that I can swish my head around when I get back and say I had my coif done in Milan. Sounds fab, no? Might also have my disastrous color fixed...I am sure if I tell them I want to be a like a Titian redhead they will understand? All fiery hair and flowing locks. That's what I will go for. ( Note to self: Must learn the Italian phrase for "Fiery hair and flowing locks". )
Then of course, there is the issue of what to pack for Milan. I must admit I have become fairly grubby when traveling, choosing comfort over style, but dammit, I wanna get back to my fashion girl roots in Milan. I'm thinking sleek black skirts and whimsical flats. Maybe a fun sundress or two, very La Dolce Vita. (Note to self: Find whimsical flats.) I am going to FLOAT down the streets of Milan in flowy skirts and trailing scarves. Rather like I did in Venice last June.
(Damn has it already been a year since Venice?) I loved the wardrobe I brought to Venice. I really hammed it up and I felt fabulous. It was so great to get out of jeans and the usual schmatta I normally wear. It was all about being romantic and putting in a little effort.
Besides, the flowy dresses? Hide the new tum-tum.
Other news:
Haven't lost any weight at all. I've been walking and stuff, but apparently my newly aged metabolism is all about building me a little belly. THAT is not acceptable. Big ass, I can handle. Belly? No effing WAY. Will have to go to step two. Which I am not happy about. To that end: I can only have my mochchocolattayayas twice a week. No soft drinks, but if I am CRAVING one I can go get a small can of Coke but only if I walk to the farthest end of town for it. No drinking during the week. And (*weep*) I believe I will have to institute portion control. Hell and damnation.
Next week we are going to Milan. I tried, today, to book tickets to see The Last Supper, but the lady on the phone was very nice when she sort of snorted and said "Sorry! Nothing available until mid July!" Arg.
I didn't want to see that stinky old masterpiecce anyhow.
While in Milan I am going to get my hairs done somewhere fabulous, so that I can swish my head around when I get back and say I had my coif done in Milan. Sounds fab, no? Might also have my disastrous color fixed...I am sure if I tell them I want to be a like a Titian redhead they will understand? All fiery hair and flowing locks. That's what I will go for. ( Note to self: Must learn the Italian phrase for "Fiery hair and flowing locks". )
Then of course, there is the issue of what to pack for Milan. I must admit I have become fairly grubby when traveling, choosing comfort over style, but dammit, I wanna get back to my fashion girl roots in Milan. I'm thinking sleek black skirts and whimsical flats. Maybe a fun sundress or two, very La Dolce Vita. (Note to self: Find whimsical flats.) I am going to FLOAT down the streets of Milan in flowy skirts and trailing scarves. Rather like I did in Venice last June.
(Damn has it already been a year since Venice?) I loved the wardrobe I brought to Venice. I really hammed it up and I felt fabulous. It was so great to get out of jeans and the usual schmatta I normally wear. It was all about being romantic and putting in a little effort.
Besides, the flowy dresses? Hide the new tum-tum.
Friday, May 26, 2006
That iPod shuffle blog meme thingy.
And so I go, iPodding my little brains out. I present you...my iPod random shuffle meme. (You know, you put it on "shuffle" and the first song that comes up for each question is the answer?) I hear these can be oddly prescient. Is the iPod the Magic 8 Ball of the new millenium?
How does the world see you?
"Can't Forget You" (Fathers of Sound Pleasure Mix), Anthony White, off the Rennaissance cd.
So far so good, I like this meme.
Will I have a happy life?
"The Art of The Joke" Paul Reiser, from the Aristocrats soundtrack.
I take that as a yes.
What do my friends really think of me?
"Original Sin", INXS
(OK this is getting wierdly accurate.)
What do people secretly think of me?
"Real Solution #9 (Mambo Mania Mix)", White Zombie.
Um...???? I'm a zombie problem solver?
How can I be happy?
"It's No Good", Depeche Mode
(Damn).
Will I ever have children?
"Connected", Stereo MC's.
Well, esoterically, yes, there must be connection to... um...you know, HAVE children.
What is some good advice for me?
"Get Happy", Happy Thought Hall, from the Party Monster Soundtrack.
Hmm, very simple, Zen like advice.
How will I be remembered?
"The Saddest Song", Morphine.
*weep*
What is my signature dancing song?
"The Downward Spiral", NIN
Oh my, we are going down in flames are we not?
What do I think my current theme song is?
"Bring the Pain", Missy Elliott
HA!HA!
What does everyone else think my theme song is:
"Bad for You", Love and Rockets.
Hmm...Original Sin, Bad for You, people is there something I should know?
What song will play at my funeral?
"The Politics of Dancing", re-Flex.
Whew. And I thought it would be Kajagoogoo.....
What is my day going to be like?
"Haunted When the Minutes Drag", Love and Rockets.
Oh my God you have NO idea.
Dudes. I totally give this an 8.5 for wierdly accurate prognosticating.
How does the world see you?
"Can't Forget You" (Fathers of Sound Pleasure Mix), Anthony White, off the Rennaissance cd.
So far so good, I like this meme.
Will I have a happy life?
"The Art of The Joke" Paul Reiser, from the Aristocrats soundtrack.
I take that as a yes.
What do my friends really think of me?
"Original Sin", INXS
(OK this is getting wierdly accurate.)
What do people secretly think of me?
"Real Solution #9 (Mambo Mania Mix)", White Zombie.
Um...???? I'm a zombie problem solver?
How can I be happy?
"It's No Good", Depeche Mode
(Damn).
Will I ever have children?
"Connected", Stereo MC's.
Well, esoterically, yes, there must be connection to... um...you know, HAVE children.
What is some good advice for me?
"Get Happy", Happy Thought Hall, from the Party Monster Soundtrack.
Hmm, very simple, Zen like advice.
How will I be remembered?
"The Saddest Song", Morphine.
*weep*
What is my signature dancing song?
"The Downward Spiral", NIN
Oh my, we are going down in flames are we not?
What do I think my current theme song is?
"Bring the Pain", Missy Elliott
HA!HA!
What does everyone else think my theme song is:
"Bad for You", Love and Rockets.
Hmm...Original Sin, Bad for You, people is there something I should know?
What song will play at my funeral?
"The Politics of Dancing", re-Flex.
Whew. And I thought it would be Kajagoogoo.....
What is my day going to be like?
"Haunted When the Minutes Drag", Love and Rockets.
Oh my God you have NO idea.
Dudes. I totally give this an 8.5 for wierdly accurate prognosticating.
Playing with Pandora
So I have been messing around with this website, pandora.com. You go there, enter the name of a band you like or a song, and it creates a whole radio station that plays similar stuff.
I've done Morphine, Love and Rockets and some other bands, and it seems that the main unifying factor in all my music is that I like stuff that has "extensive vamping".
I rather like that.
Extensive vamping. It rather explains a lot about my life in general......
That should have been my blog name.....or the name of my band. Something.
I've done Morphine, Love and Rockets and some other bands, and it seems that the main unifying factor in all my music is that I like stuff that has "extensive vamping".
I rather like that.
Extensive vamping. It rather explains a lot about my life in general......
That should have been my blog name.....or the name of my band. Something.
Stress, soapbox 2.
Gah. I'm stressed.
Do you ever have that? Where you go through a period of time where EVERYTHING stresses you out. And I do mean EVERYTHING.
Like, I just read the Austin American Statesman online. Two articles there have me wired. One, the fucking city council is considering raising the city property taxes. Now, considering that the property taxes on our house in Austin are fast getting to the point where they are more than our mortgage, I get REALLY angry when I see yet another politician saying they want to add to the property tax burden. Especially when the appraisal values have just skyrocketed again. (Seriously. Our house? Not worth that.)
Yeah, I know, Gov. "Hair" Perry, et al, say they have lowered school property taxes, but we all know that 1) it won't be NEAR as much as they say and 2) school property taxes are just one portion of the bloated tax structure and don't include the other five taxing agencies. (And once again the schools get screwed anyhow....) I don't expect much, if any tax relief from that. There has GOT to be a better way than these property taxes. We bought our house because we could afford it. We are rapidly being priced out of our own home! What do people in gentrified areas do? I feel so bad for them. My time in Norway is starting to show and I am lately thinking: luxury taxes! Extra sales taxes on designer goods and expensive stuff! Increase that cigarette tax! Tax the titty bars! Tax the things that people don't need, and for God's sake, leave (healthy) food and shelter alone!
Then I read an article that Las Manitas and Tesoros might close, due to yet another multi-use property high rise being built in downtown Austin. GAH! I find it endlessly ironic that the very things that make people want to come to downtown Austin are the things that are now getting shut down due to its growth! Remember Waterloo Brew Pub? Shut down and replaced with a crappy chain bar. (Does ANYONE go there?) God I still mourn that place. Capitol City Playhouse? Shut for another chain bar. I worked at Tesoros for almost two years, I did their windows and stuff, and I met some absolutely wonderful people there. And Las Manitas closing would be like losing the funky heart of the city. It just KILLS me.
Between the taxes and all my favorite places closing, I am REALLY starting to wonder: Can I ever come home again? Is Austin becoming just another (expensive) McCity?
Can you tell I haven't been sleeping well? Arg.
Do you ever have that? Where you go through a period of time where EVERYTHING stresses you out. And I do mean EVERYTHING.
Like, I just read the Austin American Statesman online. Two articles there have me wired. One, the fucking city council is considering raising the city property taxes. Now, considering that the property taxes on our house in Austin are fast getting to the point where they are more than our mortgage, I get REALLY angry when I see yet another politician saying they want to add to the property tax burden. Especially when the appraisal values have just skyrocketed again. (Seriously. Our house? Not worth that.)
Yeah, I know, Gov. "Hair" Perry, et al, say they have lowered school property taxes, but we all know that 1) it won't be NEAR as much as they say and 2) school property taxes are just one portion of the bloated tax structure and don't include the other five taxing agencies. (And once again the schools get screwed anyhow....) I don't expect much, if any tax relief from that. There has GOT to be a better way than these property taxes. We bought our house because we could afford it. We are rapidly being priced out of our own home! What do people in gentrified areas do? I feel so bad for them. My time in Norway is starting to show and I am lately thinking: luxury taxes! Extra sales taxes on designer goods and expensive stuff! Increase that cigarette tax! Tax the titty bars! Tax the things that people don't need, and for God's sake, leave (healthy) food and shelter alone!
Then I read an article that Las Manitas and Tesoros might close, due to yet another multi-use property high rise being built in downtown Austin. GAH! I find it endlessly ironic that the very things that make people want to come to downtown Austin are the things that are now getting shut down due to its growth! Remember Waterloo Brew Pub? Shut down and replaced with a crappy chain bar. (Does ANYONE go there?) God I still mourn that place. Capitol City Playhouse? Shut for another chain bar. I worked at Tesoros for almost two years, I did their windows and stuff, and I met some absolutely wonderful people there. And Las Manitas closing would be like losing the funky heart of the city. It just KILLS me.
Between the taxes and all my favorite places closing, I am REALLY starting to wonder: Can I ever come home again? Is Austin becoming just another (expensive) McCity?
Can you tell I haven't been sleeping well? Arg.
Thursday, May 25, 2006
Why I love Bookhart
Sometimes your friends? You just wonder how you could ever live without them.
Like this little exchange:
I was commiserating with Malcontent Mama about a bad day she's had and mentioned a little phrase my Dad always says, "Some days chickens, some days feathers".
Bookhart responds:
"I love that--some days chickens, some days feathers.
Make a boa out of your feathers, for the chickens will no doubt return."
Damn that's awesome! Totally fabulous, and guess what? I HAVE a boa. Natch!
And Karla May, I love that you got my back for me, as well. Issue resolved, that you emailed me about, and all is well. I hope you get your Mom feathers into a boa, asap.
I seriously, have the best friends in the world. And don't think I don't thank God, Buddha, Mohammed or whoever about it EVERY DAMNED DAY!
Like this little exchange:
I was commiserating with Malcontent Mama about a bad day she's had and mentioned a little phrase my Dad always says, "Some days chickens, some days feathers".
Bookhart responds:
"I love that--some days chickens, some days feathers.
Make a boa out of your feathers, for the chickens will no doubt return."
Damn that's awesome! Totally fabulous, and guess what? I HAVE a boa. Natch!
And Karla May, I love that you got my back for me, as well. Issue resolved, that you emailed me about, and all is well. I hope you get your Mom feathers into a boa, asap.
I seriously, have the best friends in the world. And don't think I don't thank God, Buddha, Mohammed or whoever about it EVERY DAMNED DAY!
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Ladies in Oslo...lookin' for a date?
This might be your lucky weekend, especially if you like Italian bankers......
Put on your best ARmani or Prada and go get you one, sistas!
Put on your best ARmani or Prada and go get you one, sistas!
Things I Will Never Understand...up soapbox! Up!
American Idol. I've never seen it and I just don't get why it is considered so powerful.
Religious wars. I always thought religion was supposed to unify.
Lutefisk. Sorry, try as I might...?????
People who talk loudly in movies. (Like last night, when watching "Da Vinci Code". You, the folks next to me? SHUT THE FUCK UP.)
People who can't say "please", "thank you" or acknowledge the existence of others in a crowded situation. Yes, I exist and sorry, you can't just walk through me.
Vin Diesel.
Gin. It just hurts me badly.
Americans being upset about $3 a gallon gas when your average European is paying around $7. Sorry, guys, buy smaller cars and support the car makers that build you interesting things that are sensible. Lots of cool cars are made here in Europe that aren't allowed to be imported to the US for really daft reasons.
Gay bashers. Live and let live!
Benicio Del Toro.
Why women, half the world's population, allow the other half to regulate us. Why is it that women are, for example, mistreated in Africa, subjugated in some Muslim areas, slyly regulated in America and objectified elsewhere? If we all stood up and really fought, we wouldn't have to take that shit anymore.
Mariah Carey.
Paris Hilton. (God she's horrible.)
MySpace. Why? (Or is this a generation gap thing?)
People who smack their gum.
People who don't communicate clearly what they want and then wonder why they don't get it.
Why I, on the first sunny day in 10 days, am inside writing this when I should be outside in the sun. Even if it is chilly out there.....
Byeee.
Religious wars. I always thought religion was supposed to unify.
Lutefisk. Sorry, try as I might...?????
People who talk loudly in movies. (Like last night, when watching "Da Vinci Code". You, the folks next to me? SHUT THE FUCK UP.)
People who can't say "please", "thank you" or acknowledge the existence of others in a crowded situation. Yes, I exist and sorry, you can't just walk through me.
Vin Diesel.
Gin. It just hurts me badly.
Americans being upset about $3 a gallon gas when your average European is paying around $7. Sorry, guys, buy smaller cars and support the car makers that build you interesting things that are sensible. Lots of cool cars are made here in Europe that aren't allowed to be imported to the US for really daft reasons.
Gay bashers. Live and let live!
Benicio Del Toro.
Why women, half the world's population, allow the other half to regulate us. Why is it that women are, for example, mistreated in Africa, subjugated in some Muslim areas, slyly regulated in America and objectified elsewhere? If we all stood up and really fought, we wouldn't have to take that shit anymore.
Mariah Carey.
Paris Hilton. (God she's horrible.)
MySpace. Why? (Or is this a generation gap thing?)
People who smack their gum.
People who don't communicate clearly what they want and then wonder why they don't get it.
Why I, on the first sunny day in 10 days, am inside writing this when I should be outside in the sun. Even if it is chilly out there.....
Byeee.
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
And it's one of my favorite books, too!
Which literature classic are you?
Oscar Wilde: The Portrait of Dorian Gray. You are a horror novel from the world of dandies, rich pretty boys, art and aesthetics, and intellectual debates between ethical people and decadent pleasure-seekers. You value beauty and pleasure but realize their dangers, as well.
Take this quiz!
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OK so I am copping out and just posting this quiz today, but seriously!? Nothing going on. It's raining for like, the 10th day in a row. I could not sleep last night, read until 3am and slept this morning until 11am. I feel like crap.
How ya like me now?
Sunday, May 21, 2006
Quit reading so loud
Shhhh. Quit reading so loud. No really, it just hurts. It all hurts. ow. ow. ow. I have to whisper just so I don't give myself a worse headache when I hear myself speak.
Ow. I just moved. Ow. This computer is too loud. ow. Maybe if I type smaller it won't hurt so much.
Last night was fun. At least, what I remember was fun. I think the Finnish band won, which is SILLY because, hello? Gimmick!!!!!! (Ow. Exclamation points hurt. Note to self to not write so loudly. Ow.)
The Finnish band won, the Germans didn't and while i didn't really think they had a chance I was really rooting for Lithuania. I mean they named their song "We are the Winners (of the Eurovision Contest)". And they had this funny bald guy who danced like a total geek frat boy spaz, which reminded me of every guy I ever saw dance in college.
Ow. Even my fingers hurt. Ow.
Many randy comments flew about as the contest progressed. My favorites were by Lesley, who in her crisp, posh British accent quipped madly about exposed crotches, long legs and Shakira wanna be's. Grant also came up with a doozy, when commenting on the singer from Croatia. She was wearing a red....thing....cut up to there. Grant said (use your best thick Scottish burr here) "She's wearing an airline skirt." I said "A-line?" He said "No. AIRLINE. You can see all the way to her cockpit." Ba DUM bum.
The worst act of the night for me, bar none, was the Spanish one. I don't know WHAT they were thinking, but their act encompassed more leggy women who rolled around the stage on office chairs (red to match their outfits, natch) and sang something about "Duty Free". I don't know why duty free was such a good thing to sing so enthusiastically about , but boy they sure were strident about it. "DOOTY FREEE! DOOTY FREEE!!!! DOOOOTYYYYY FREE!!!"
We ate all the chili I made, the Tollhouse cookies made from horded chocolate chips were a hit and we emptied many bottles of wine. And beer. The last guest left at 2am. In old folks time, which is the time i live in now, that is really late.
We got up at 10 this morning and the only thing I could think of was breakfast tacos and a big ol' coke. That patently NOT being a possibility here (God I'd KILL for some Jimmy Dean sausage) I made a breakfast casserole from a recipe by Rich's sister that encompasses the majority of the hangover foods I need: eggs, cheese, bacon and something starchy (croutons, in this case). Throw them all in a large casserole dish and bake for an hour, and serve with ketchup (yes, I am a ketchup on the eggs kinda gal) and it's almost like being home. We even had some Coke leftover from last night. I think of it as the Cholesterol Casserole with a sugar and caffeine chaser.
I managed to stay up for all of three hours before going back to bed for a 4 hour nap.
Man, remember when you were in college and a hangover would last a couple hours and even then an aspirin and some water would largely take care of it? Now, it takes me two days to recover. Even with the casserole.
Ow. I might have to have some hair of the dog......Ow. Can someone turn down the birds? They are hurting my squishy head.
Ow. I just moved. Ow. This computer is too loud. ow. Maybe if I type smaller it won't hurt so much.
Last night was fun. At least, what I remember was fun. I think the Finnish band won, which is SILLY because, hello? Gimmick!!!!!! (Ow. Exclamation points hurt. Note to self to not write so loudly. Ow.)
The Finnish band won, the Germans didn't and while i didn't really think they had a chance I was really rooting for Lithuania. I mean they named their song "We are the Winners (of the Eurovision Contest)". And they had this funny bald guy who danced like a total geek frat boy spaz, which reminded me of every guy I ever saw dance in college.
Ow. Even my fingers hurt. Ow.
Many randy comments flew about as the contest progressed. My favorites were by Lesley, who in her crisp, posh British accent quipped madly about exposed crotches, long legs and Shakira wanna be's. Grant also came up with a doozy, when commenting on the singer from Croatia. She was wearing a red....thing....cut up to there. Grant said (use your best thick Scottish burr here) "She's wearing an airline skirt." I said "A-line?" He said "No. AIRLINE. You can see all the way to her cockpit." Ba DUM bum.
The worst act of the night for me, bar none, was the Spanish one. I don't know WHAT they were thinking, but their act encompassed more leggy women who rolled around the stage on office chairs (red to match their outfits, natch) and sang something about "Duty Free". I don't know why duty free was such a good thing to sing so enthusiastically about , but boy they sure were strident about it. "DOOTY FREEE! DOOTY FREEE!!!! DOOOOTYYYYY FREE!!!"
We ate all the chili I made, the Tollhouse cookies made from horded chocolate chips were a hit and we emptied many bottles of wine. And beer. The last guest left at 2am. In old folks time, which is the time i live in now, that is really late.
We got up at 10 this morning and the only thing I could think of was breakfast tacos and a big ol' coke. That patently NOT being a possibility here (God I'd KILL for some Jimmy Dean sausage) I made a breakfast casserole from a recipe by Rich's sister that encompasses the majority of the hangover foods I need: eggs, cheese, bacon and something starchy (croutons, in this case). Throw them all in a large casserole dish and bake for an hour, and serve with ketchup (yes, I am a ketchup on the eggs kinda gal) and it's almost like being home. We even had some Coke leftover from last night. I think of it as the Cholesterol Casserole with a sugar and caffeine chaser.
I managed to stay up for all of three hours before going back to bed for a 4 hour nap.
Man, remember when you were in college and a hangover would last a couple hours and even then an aspirin and some water would largely take care of it? Now, it takes me two days to recover. Even with the casserole.
Ow. I might have to have some hair of the dog......Ow. Can someone turn down the birds? They are hurting my squishy head.
Saturday, May 20, 2006
Live drunk blogging!
Woo!
Hi y'all!
I'm drunk!
Ooh, i just farted. I made chili for dinnner.
Ok, so I am watching Eurovision with some friends and we are drunk and screaming and watching Eurovision. Oh, I said that already.
Ok, so...I vote for Lithuania. Their song was called "We Are the Winners (of Eurovision)".
And they were and so I voted. Well, I hope they win,. Cuz we all decided they get 12 points for having balls.
Germany ruled also. It was a bunch of Krauts dressed like Texans doing a hoedown song kinda thing. And I'm a tex-kraut and so it ruled. I like them.
woo!
WOOO!!!!!
Now is Greedce. One of those sincere power ballads. Blagh. The lead singer is bendy, though.
Lesley sez, "It's a bloody good pahty Dahling..!!! Do we really need to see between her legs? Honestly." (referring to the Greek singer chick who did some yoga move.)
SWEET! next comes Finland, the band LORDI, a Christian Zombie death metal band....no, really. HARD. ROCK. HALLELUJAH!
Does this even make sense? who cares. I'm having fun. Oh no, the French band is coming up. The token French girl at our party is going nuts. We need some rope to tie her down.
Hi y'all!
I'm drunk!
Ooh, i just farted. I made chili for dinnner.
Ok, so I am watching Eurovision with some friends and we are drunk and screaming and watching Eurovision. Oh, I said that already.
Ok, so...I vote for Lithuania. Their song was called "We Are the Winners (of Eurovision)".
And they were and so I voted. Well, I hope they win,. Cuz we all decided they get 12 points for having balls.
Germany ruled also. It was a bunch of Krauts dressed like Texans doing a hoedown song kinda thing. And I'm a tex-kraut and so it ruled. I like them.
woo!
WOOO!!!!!
Now is Greedce. One of those sincere power ballads. Blagh. The lead singer is bendy, though.
Lesley sez, "It's a bloody good pahty Dahling..!!! Do we really need to see between her legs? Honestly." (referring to the Greek singer chick who did some yoga move.)
SWEET! next comes Finland, the band LORDI, a Christian Zombie death metal band....no, really. HARD. ROCK. HALLELUJAH!
Does this even make sense? who cares. I'm having fun. Oh no, the French band is coming up. The token French girl at our party is going nuts. We need some rope to tie her down.
It's tonight! Tonight!
Tonight's the night!
We've got the drink fixin's and the chili is bubbling on the stove. Rich is printing the voting ballots and I've got a cheesy outfit all ready to wear. (Though I might chicken out.)
Yes, tonight is EUROVISION!!!!!
Woooo!!!!!
We've got the drink fixin's and the chili is bubbling on the stove. Rich is printing the voting ballots and I've got a cheesy outfit all ready to wear. (Though I might chicken out.)
Yes, tonight is EUROVISION!!!!!
Woooo!!!!!
Friday, May 19, 2006
I been tagged.
1. What's in the glove box of your car?
I don't own a car at present. I do have a box of gloves though.
2. Favorite classes in college (or high school):
I took an independent studies course with one professor, Michael Adams, that sort of changed my life and the way I think. It was about the history of Western thought and Christianity. Think "Da Vinci Code" for everything you ever believed in.. Yeah, heavy shit.
3. Shampoo brand:
I've got about 30 bottles...mostly of the anti-frizz variety. I am a product whore.
4. Favorite piece of furniture you own: My dresser. It's huge, oversized and black. But not bad 80's black, more distressed old farmhouse black.
5. Idea of a really good first date: I never really had one. My dating history sort of blows.
6. Favorite fruit: Raspberries. Just the idea of them makes my mouth water.
7. Pick a passage from a favorite book:
Kettle, plug, fridge, milk, coffee. Yawn.
The word bulldozer wandered through his mind for a moment in search of something to connect with.
The bulldozer outside the kitchen window was quite a big one.
He stared at it.
"Yellow," he thought, and stomped off back to his bedroom to get dressed.
That's my favorite, ever, and if you know what it's from you get total geek points. Sometimes I just think yellow, even now.
8. What would you eat for dinner if it were your last night on earth? Shiner Bock battered mushrooms and a sirloin steak from Austin Land and Cattle.
9. Free Will or Destiny: free will baby. destiny? pah.
10. What would you sing at karaoke? Tainted Love. Did it once, I sucked HARD.
11. Sweater or Sweatshirt? Sweater.. sweatshirts make me feel frowsy.
12. Paris, NYC, Tokyo, or Rio de Janeiro? London.
13. What do you wear to bed usually? whatever's on the floor that looks comfy.
14. If you dyed your hair, what colour would you dye it? I am disaster child when it comes to hair color. I quit.
15. If you went back to school, what would you study? Bidness. And multi-media art. or creative writing.
16. Gum or mints? Mints. Gum smackers make me want to MURDER so I refuse to join them.
17. Recurring nightmares? losing my teeth. Hate that one.
18. Age & location of first kiss?. 6th grade. Spin the Bottle. 7 minutes in heaven with a boy named John. I freaked out. Did not kiss again for four years, but advanced my knowledge rapidly once I started up again. (Mom don't read this.)
19. Describe your favourite pair of shoes: Bar none my Lucchese boots.
20. What movie/tv character do you feel like you relate to most? John Cusack in Grosse Point Blank. "I have a certain moral flexibility".
21. First CD purchase:Robert Plant, Principle of Moments. '86?
22. First concert: Quiet Riot. Hey, I was 14.
23. Do you like camping? Hell no. If there is not a flushing toilet I don't sleep there.
24. If you were doomed to be mauled to death by an animal, what animal would you prefer that to be? A six week old German shepherd puppy. Barring that, a butterfly. A small one.
25. Do you/would you own a gun? Nope. I'm a good shot, but I don't want to own one. Ever.
26. What religion would you like to know more about: Wicca, Buddhism.
27. Favourite food as a kid: Chicken noodle soup.
28. How many languages do you speak? English. Reading and understanding of German and Norske. Some spanish, could get good at it again with practice.
29. If you were a natural disaster, would you be a tornado, hurricane, or earthquake? I'm sort of a tornado already.
30. If you could make one state in the US just go away, which state would that be? Right now I am really pissed at South Dakota.
31. How many prescriptions do you take? zip. zero. nada. healthy as a damned horse.
32. Lake or Ocean? (How much longer is this thing?) Fjord.
33. What is the worst lie you've ever told to get out of work, (and don't say you've never lied to get out of work, because that my friend is a lie and you know it)? It's not mine, actually, but once my brother called in to work the day he left Texas to come visit me in Norway saying that I had been in a car wreck and he had to come help me out. Talk about ballsy. That one was the best ever. He was here for two weeks! Apparently I was hurt bad. He called work after the first week to say he'd be gone another week. That is one way to get your two week vacation.....
34. Do you carry a backpack, a satchel or "man bag", tote bag, brief case, or a backpack on wheels? I actually like man bags. I refer bags that go across the body. More comfortable. Otherwise I carry a tiny Coach wristlet. (Boys, you will just have to look that one up.)
35. Have you ever been arrested/cited for anything other than traffic violations? Yes.
36. Would you ever consider spending some time at a nudist colony? Sure. Why not? I look pretty good nekkid.
39. Best thing you can cook? It's all good. My brother requests my tortilla soup and I make kick ass quesadillas too.
40. If you were going to donate 1000 dollars to a charity, what would that be? I've donated money over time anyhow but would continue on with something to do with women's issues, like TARAL or Planned Parenthood.
I'm not tagging anyone, feel free to self tag. (Tagsturbate?)
I don't own a car at present. I do have a box of gloves though.
2. Favorite classes in college (or high school):
I took an independent studies course with one professor, Michael Adams, that sort of changed my life and the way I think. It was about the history of Western thought and Christianity. Think "Da Vinci Code" for everything you ever believed in.. Yeah, heavy shit.
3. Shampoo brand:
I've got about 30 bottles...mostly of the anti-frizz variety. I am a product whore.
4. Favorite piece of furniture you own: My dresser. It's huge, oversized and black. But not bad 80's black, more distressed old farmhouse black.
5. Idea of a really good first date: I never really had one. My dating history sort of blows.
6. Favorite fruit: Raspberries. Just the idea of them makes my mouth water.
7. Pick a passage from a favorite book:
Kettle, plug, fridge, milk, coffee. Yawn.
The word bulldozer wandered through his mind for a moment in search of something to connect with.
The bulldozer outside the kitchen window was quite a big one.
He stared at it.
"Yellow," he thought, and stomped off back to his bedroom to get dressed.
That's my favorite, ever, and if you know what it's from you get total geek points. Sometimes I just think yellow, even now.
8. What would you eat for dinner if it were your last night on earth? Shiner Bock battered mushrooms and a sirloin steak from Austin Land and Cattle.
9. Free Will or Destiny: free will baby. destiny? pah.
10. What would you sing at karaoke? Tainted Love. Did it once, I sucked HARD.
11. Sweater or Sweatshirt? Sweater.. sweatshirts make me feel frowsy.
12. Paris, NYC, Tokyo, or Rio de Janeiro? London.
13. What do you wear to bed usually? whatever's on the floor that looks comfy.
14. If you dyed your hair, what colour would you dye it? I am disaster child when it comes to hair color. I quit.
15. If you went back to school, what would you study? Bidness. And multi-media art. or creative writing.
16. Gum or mints? Mints. Gum smackers make me want to MURDER so I refuse to join them.
17. Recurring nightmares? losing my teeth. Hate that one.
18. Age & location of first kiss?. 6th grade. Spin the Bottle. 7 minutes in heaven with a boy named John. I freaked out. Did not kiss again for four years, but advanced my knowledge rapidly once I started up again. (Mom don't read this.)
19. Describe your favourite pair of shoes: Bar none my Lucchese boots.
20. What movie/tv character do you feel like you relate to most? John Cusack in Grosse Point Blank. "I have a certain moral flexibility".
21. First CD purchase:Robert Plant, Principle of Moments. '86?
22. First concert: Quiet Riot. Hey, I was 14.
23. Do you like camping? Hell no. If there is not a flushing toilet I don't sleep there.
24. If you were doomed to be mauled to death by an animal, what animal would you prefer that to be? A six week old German shepherd puppy. Barring that, a butterfly. A small one.
25. Do you/would you own a gun? Nope. I'm a good shot, but I don't want to own one. Ever.
26. What religion would you like to know more about: Wicca, Buddhism.
27. Favourite food as a kid: Chicken noodle soup.
28. How many languages do you speak? English. Reading and understanding of German and Norske. Some spanish, could get good at it again with practice.
29. If you were a natural disaster, would you be a tornado, hurricane, or earthquake? I'm sort of a tornado already.
30. If you could make one state in the US just go away, which state would that be? Right now I am really pissed at South Dakota.
31. How many prescriptions do you take? zip. zero. nada. healthy as a damned horse.
32. Lake or Ocean? (How much longer is this thing?) Fjord.
33. What is the worst lie you've ever told to get out of work, (and don't say you've never lied to get out of work, because that my friend is a lie and you know it)? It's not mine, actually, but once my brother called in to work the day he left Texas to come visit me in Norway saying that I had been in a car wreck and he had to come help me out. Talk about ballsy. That one was the best ever. He was here for two weeks! Apparently I was hurt bad. He called work after the first week to say he'd be gone another week. That is one way to get your two week vacation.....
34. Do you carry a backpack, a satchel or "man bag", tote bag, brief case, or a backpack on wheels? I actually like man bags. I refer bags that go across the body. More comfortable. Otherwise I carry a tiny Coach wristlet. (Boys, you will just have to look that one up.)
35. Have you ever been arrested/cited for anything other than traffic violations? Yes.
36. Would you ever consider spending some time at a nudist colony? Sure. Why not? I look pretty good nekkid.
39. Best thing you can cook? It's all good. My brother requests my tortilla soup and I make kick ass quesadillas too.
40. If you were going to donate 1000 dollars to a charity, what would that be? I've donated money over time anyhow but would continue on with something to do with women's issues, like TARAL or Planned Parenthood.
I'm not tagging anyone, feel free to self tag. (Tagsturbate?)
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Man Cook Meat. Fire! Fire! Fire!
This is the FIRST and probably LAST time I will ever do this, but I got this in an email today and it is so true I had to post it here. I was laughing like a loon (all by myself, which makes it even loonier). Girls reading this....I KNOW you will identify.....
______________________________________
BBQ Season
After several long months of cold and winter, we are finally coming up to summer and BBQ season. Therefore it is important to refresh your memory on the etiquette of this sublime outdoor cooking as it's the only type of cooking a real man will do, probably because there is an element of danger and involved.
______________________________________
BBQ Season
After several long months of cold and winter, we are finally coming up to summer and BBQ season. Therefore it is important to refresh your memory on the etiquette of this sublime outdoor cooking as it's the only type of cooking a real man will do, probably because there is an element of danger and involved.
When a man volunteers to do the BBQ the following chain of events are put into motion:
1) The woman buys the food.
2) The woman makes the salad, prepares the vegetables, and makes dessert.
3) The woman prepares the meat for cooking, places it on a tray along with the necessary cooking utensils and sauces, and takes it to the man who is lounging beside the grill - beer in hand.
Here comes the important part:
4) THE MAN PLACES THE MEAT ON THE GRILL.
After that:
5) The woman goes inside to organize the plates and cutlery.
6) The woman comes out to tell the man that the meat is burning. He thanks her and asks if she will bring another beer and a clean platter for the meat while he deals with the situation.
Important again:
7) THE MAN TAKES THE MEAT OFF THE GRILL AND HANDS IT TO THE WOMAN.
And then:
8) The woman prepares the plates, salad, bread, utensils, napkins, sauces and brings them to the table.
9) After serving dessert, the woman clears the table and does the dishes.
And most important of all:
10) Everyone PRAISES the MAN and THANKS HIM for his cooking efforts.
11) The man asks the woman how she enjoyed "her night off." And, upon seeing her annoyed reaction, concludes that there's just no pleasing some women .
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
unscathed
I am happy to report I did nothing to embarrass myself on the boat ride yesterday. (Well, nothing beyond justbeing myself, which is usually embarrassing enough just on its own.)
We wedged six of us (Rich and I, and our friends Will and Mary and their two adorable daughters) onto a rather small boat and had a jaunt around the Oslofjord and the island of Nesoya (jeez, THOSE are some posh houses!). The guys even got some fishing in. Sum total of the fishing was one very nice cod and four impatient women going "Are you DONE yet? Have you had ENOUGH fishing?" (I honestly did not mind sitting out there and hanging out, though I can see it being even better on a sunny day and me with a good book and a beer (or four) in hand. There is no way in hell anyone is going to get me to touch fish or bait....no WAY. Sorry, I call "girly girl" on that one.) It was not very sunny nor very warm. But still very lovely. Afterwards we all went out for some damn good pizza. Got back around midnight.
At about 1:30 am a night club appeared in our flat. At least, as I was waking up, my confused brain thought that somehow a night club came into our flat. In fact, it was a Russ bus, pumping techno music at a startling level, that stopped in the road outside our building, on an apparent urgent pee break. The doors of the bus opened and out came about 6 girls who then pissed in the bushes surrounding the plaza outside our building. We could see more people in the bus dancing, it really was a rolling night club. It's fairly entertaining to watch really REALLY drunk girls try to get out of their overalls (the traditional Russ uniform) and squat down to pee while also trying not to fall over or scratch their asses on the pointy bushes that surround the plaza. The music that came out of that bus was SO loud it made all the glasses rattle in the cabinets. The girls finally finished pissing and stumbled their way back to the bus, laughing and screaming, and then hopped on and started dancing again as the doors closed and the bus moved on. Remind me not to sit on the benches at the far end of the plaza.
At 7 am the sharp crack of cannon fire tore us from our addled slumber. (How many people can say that who have NOT been in a war?) Today is 17th May and I feel so sorry for everyone who has been waiting and planning so hard for this day. It's done nothing but rain. All day. Almost three weeks of continual sun...and today it rained. Oy. On 17 May it is tradition to wear your best clothes (women and men wear traditional bunader if they have them, other wise you wear a suit and tie or a nice dress). Everyone, then, was walking around outside to watch the parades and festivities in pissing down cold rain. Doesn't seem fair, does it? It was still fun to watch. It looked like the 19th century out there, with the men in breeches and the women in the corseted full skirted bunads. The kids all march in the parade and there is much flag waving and marching band music. Lovely. Beautiful tradition.
As for the other tradition, the Russ? I'm also thinking there are some pretty hung over Russ girls out there today, wondering why they have scratches on their asses and piss on their pant legs.....
We wedged six of us (Rich and I, and our friends Will and Mary and their two adorable daughters) onto a rather small boat and had a jaunt around the Oslofjord and the island of Nesoya (jeez, THOSE are some posh houses!). The guys even got some fishing in. Sum total of the fishing was one very nice cod and four impatient women going "Are you DONE yet? Have you had ENOUGH fishing?" (I honestly did not mind sitting out there and hanging out, though I can see it being even better on a sunny day and me with a good book and a beer (or four) in hand. There is no way in hell anyone is going to get me to touch fish or bait....no WAY. Sorry, I call "girly girl" on that one.) It was not very sunny nor very warm. But still very lovely. Afterwards we all went out for some damn good pizza. Got back around midnight.
At about 1:30 am a night club appeared in our flat. At least, as I was waking up, my confused brain thought that somehow a night club came into our flat. In fact, it was a Russ bus, pumping techno music at a startling level, that stopped in the road outside our building, on an apparent urgent pee break. The doors of the bus opened and out came about 6 girls who then pissed in the bushes surrounding the plaza outside our building. We could see more people in the bus dancing, it really was a rolling night club. It's fairly entertaining to watch really REALLY drunk girls try to get out of their overalls (the traditional Russ uniform) and squat down to pee while also trying not to fall over or scratch their asses on the pointy bushes that surround the plaza. The music that came out of that bus was SO loud it made all the glasses rattle in the cabinets. The girls finally finished pissing and stumbled their way back to the bus, laughing and screaming, and then hopped on and started dancing again as the doors closed and the bus moved on. Remind me not to sit on the benches at the far end of the plaza.
At 7 am the sharp crack of cannon fire tore us from our addled slumber. (How many people can say that who have NOT been in a war?) Today is 17th May and I feel so sorry for everyone who has been waiting and planning so hard for this day. It's done nothing but rain. All day. Almost three weeks of continual sun...and today it rained. Oy. On 17 May it is tradition to wear your best clothes (women and men wear traditional bunader if they have them, other wise you wear a suit and tie or a nice dress). Everyone, then, was walking around outside to watch the parades and festivities in pissing down cold rain. Doesn't seem fair, does it? It was still fun to watch. It looked like the 19th century out there, with the men in breeches and the women in the corseted full skirted bunads. The kids all march in the parade and there is much flag waving and marching band music. Lovely. Beautiful tradition.
As for the other tradition, the Russ? I'm also thinking there are some pretty hung over Russ girls out there today, wondering why they have scratches on their asses and piss on their pant legs.....
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
hoping three's not the charm
We're going on a boat ride this evening.
Last two times I was on a boat, I sorta fell off when exiting. Well, not sorta fell off, but actually fell and went splash.
I will try my damndest to not repeat history here, but I think we all know that I am not especially graceful. Will let you know what happens.
Last two times I was on a boat, I sorta fell off when exiting. Well, not sorta fell off, but actually fell and went splash.
I will try my damndest to not repeat history here, but I think we all know that I am not especially graceful. Will let you know what happens.
right now I am just not sure
Sorry I have been so absent. I just really have not felt the writing mojo. You know how it is, right?
Not that things are bad, in fact things are pretty ok, but I just haven't felt like writing it down.
So, here's what's what, as far as I know, which seems to be shocking little at present.
Um, went to Sweden yesterday with a friend to go grocery shopping. It's considered to be a bit tacky to go do that, spend your money in Sweden instead of supporting the Norwegian (tax and monopoly) economy by buying stuff here, but stuff there is WAY cheaper. Mostly. So I got my usual chicken and beef, and some stuff I can't get here (Cocoa Krispies, for god's sake) and hit the Swedish version of the wine monopoly and got wine at a little more than half price. It pretty much takes the day to go shopping in Sweden. It's about a two hour drive each way on very low speed limit roads that are constantly under construction. You go through insanely beautiful rural country. Meadows, rolling hills, farm houses dotting the landscape which breaks into impressive gorges with blue water and vistas out to the sea. Wow.
The shopping centers themselves aren't that impressive, considering I just drove two hours to get there, but the prices and selection are much better. (Why oh WHY are Cocoa Krispies not allowed here? Why can't I get canned chili? Why is chicken less than half the price there? WHY?) The only bad deals were on American imported goods, which, honestly, I can get better ones here for about the same (astronomical) price.
There was one shop that was fairly spectacular. It was the biggest shop dedicated to candy and junk food that i have EVER seen. It was the size of a regular grocery store. It was packed to the roof with nothing but candy, chips and sodas. (And beer.) I've never seen anything like it. I'm not actually a big candy eater, so only got some peanut M&M's, which are so expensive here as to be prohibitive. The wierd thing was, the second level of this behemoth store dedicated to, well, behemoths, was one of those 'health food' stores catering to men trying to build muscle. It was all Creatine powder and chromium and weight lifting gloves and energy powders. I was just stunned, seeing that chapel to the body beautiful (photos of muscular abs everywhere) tacked onto the church of the obese. It seems the marketing guys were either really brilliant or smoking crack when they teamed up those two business enterprises.
I got a call this morning about going back to work...today. I'm not really sure what's up, but it's kind of short notice. (I already missed the trains and busses I would need to get there, and a cab? Why bother working, just give all your money to the cab driver.) Not that I don't appreciate it, but I like some warning so I can plan my week. I'm not good with last minute. I'm a planner. So I arranged to go starting Thursday, tomorrow being a holiday and all. Sounds like the work will be more interesting this time, a little more challenging.
Tomorrow is 17 May, the Norwegian Independence Day. It's always fun, with parades and cook outs and lots and lots of flag waving. And of course, a day off work. Today, May 16th, is also apparently a day when many many Norwegians get drunk. (Well, especially the Russ kids, as it's their last day of Russ.) This I was told by Norwegians, so don't kill the messenger. Hell, I'll probably join them.
My hair is trying like hell to show its orangey-ness through the temporary cover. I'm gonna have to figure out a permanent solution soon.
Rich has booked us tickets to Milan and Bergamo for early June. He's on a travel frenzy, spending every evening looking up flights. I have a feeling it will be a busy summer of four day weekends. (Hmm. Maybe I'll get my hair done in Milan....)
And this, dear people, is the end of this uninspired transmission. I think all the sun and spring weather has my thoughts outside to hikes and walking and blooming fields. Ahh.....
Not that things are bad, in fact things are pretty ok, but I just haven't felt like writing it down.
So, here's what's what, as far as I know, which seems to be shocking little at present.
Um, went to Sweden yesterday with a friend to go grocery shopping. It's considered to be a bit tacky to go do that, spend your money in Sweden instead of supporting the Norwegian (tax and monopoly) economy by buying stuff here, but stuff there is WAY cheaper. Mostly. So I got my usual chicken and beef, and some stuff I can't get here (Cocoa Krispies, for god's sake) and hit the Swedish version of the wine monopoly and got wine at a little more than half price. It pretty much takes the day to go shopping in Sweden. It's about a two hour drive each way on very low speed limit roads that are constantly under construction. You go through insanely beautiful rural country. Meadows, rolling hills, farm houses dotting the landscape which breaks into impressive gorges with blue water and vistas out to the sea. Wow.
The shopping centers themselves aren't that impressive, considering I just drove two hours to get there, but the prices and selection are much better. (Why oh WHY are Cocoa Krispies not allowed here? Why can't I get canned chili? Why is chicken less than half the price there? WHY?) The only bad deals were on American imported goods, which, honestly, I can get better ones here for about the same (astronomical) price.
There was one shop that was fairly spectacular. It was the biggest shop dedicated to candy and junk food that i have EVER seen. It was the size of a regular grocery store. It was packed to the roof with nothing but candy, chips and sodas. (And beer.) I've never seen anything like it. I'm not actually a big candy eater, so only got some peanut M&M's, which are so expensive here as to be prohibitive. The wierd thing was, the second level of this behemoth store dedicated to, well, behemoths, was one of those 'health food' stores catering to men trying to build muscle. It was all Creatine powder and chromium and weight lifting gloves and energy powders. I was just stunned, seeing that chapel to the body beautiful (photos of muscular abs everywhere) tacked onto the church of the obese. It seems the marketing guys were either really brilliant or smoking crack when they teamed up those two business enterprises.
I got a call this morning about going back to work...today. I'm not really sure what's up, but it's kind of short notice. (I already missed the trains and busses I would need to get there, and a cab? Why bother working, just give all your money to the cab driver.) Not that I don't appreciate it, but I like some warning so I can plan my week. I'm not good with last minute. I'm a planner. So I arranged to go starting Thursday, tomorrow being a holiday and all. Sounds like the work will be more interesting this time, a little more challenging.
Tomorrow is 17 May, the Norwegian Independence Day. It's always fun, with parades and cook outs and lots and lots of flag waving. And of course, a day off work. Today, May 16th, is also apparently a day when many many Norwegians get drunk. (Well, especially the Russ kids, as it's their last day of Russ.) This I was told by Norwegians, so don't kill the messenger. Hell, I'll probably join them.
My hair is trying like hell to show its orangey-ness through the temporary cover. I'm gonna have to figure out a permanent solution soon.
Rich has booked us tickets to Milan and Bergamo for early June. He's on a travel frenzy, spending every evening looking up flights. I have a feeling it will be a busy summer of four day weekends. (Hmm. Maybe I'll get my hair done in Milan....)
And this, dear people, is the end of this uninspired transmission. I think all the sun and spring weather has my thoughts outside to hikes and walking and blooming fields. Ahh.....
Friday, May 12, 2006
nobody tagged me but I'm NOT bitter.
Nobody tagged me for this meme. I waited and waited, but nobody did. I'm like the nerd girl at the Homecoming Dance that no one asked to dance. (And believe me when I say I *already* know how that feels.) Am I pissed? No. But I hereby offer my hair highlighting services to those of you who did NOT tag me. Hmmph. So there. I stolded it from Bookhart. So, when am I doing your hair, honey pie?
I AM: Karla, a traveler in life.
I WANT: a sense of purpose.
I WISH: everyone would just live and let live.
I HATE: the current state of American politics
I MISS: my little home in Austin
I FEAR: that I won't get to go back there, yet I also fear returning to "normal" life.
I HEAR: the kids splashing in the fountain in the plaza below.
I WONDER: when I will really *get* that the journey is sometimes nothing more than the journey.
I REGRET: that I have never lived alone.
I AM NOT: a nice person. Never claimed to be.
I DANCE: like a Bollywood pole dancer on crack. All arms and ass.
I SING: to the peril and distress of those who hear me.
I CRY: every damn time Sally Field freaks out at the end of "Steel Magnolias" even though I have seen it 100 times.
I AM NOT ALWAYS: right, though I am more often than not. Ahem.
I MADE: my earrings.
I WRITE: as a way to think.
I CONFUSE: myself.
I NEED: understanding and friends.
I SHOULD: work out more.
I START: my period right on time every month.
I FINISH: a beer way too fast.
I TAG: Fofusa (Leslie) because I am worried about where she's at.....
I AM: Karla, a traveler in life.
I WANT: a sense of purpose.
I WISH: everyone would just live and let live.
I HATE: the current state of American politics
I MISS: my little home in Austin
I FEAR: that I won't get to go back there, yet I also fear returning to "normal" life.
I HEAR: the kids splashing in the fountain in the plaza below.
I WONDER: when I will really *get* that the journey is sometimes nothing more than the journey.
I REGRET: that I have never lived alone.
I AM NOT: a nice person. Never claimed to be.
I DANCE: like a Bollywood pole dancer on crack. All arms and ass.
I SING: to the peril and distress of those who hear me.
I CRY: every damn time Sally Field freaks out at the end of "Steel Magnolias" even though I have seen it 100 times.
I AM NOT ALWAYS: right, though I am more often than not. Ahem.
I MADE: my earrings.
I WRITE: as a way to think.
I CONFUSE: myself.
I NEED: understanding and friends.
I SHOULD: work out more.
I START: my period right on time every month.
I FINISH: a beer way too fast.
I TAG: Fofusa (Leslie) because I am worried about where she's at.....
Thursday, May 11, 2006
MUCH better
Rich saw my hair when he came home from work and was nice about it, but did mention that it was "colorful", as did my very sweet next door neighbor.
I went and got a 6-8 week semi permanent rinse (color called "Marokko") until I can figure out what to do next. It's now toned down substantially and closer to what God gimme. I also convinced Rich to chop about three inches straight off the back, right after I did the re-color. Hey, it was wet and I saw some shaping was necessary. He did a good job. It's bouncier now.
I am so gald I don't have to look at my big orange head anymore. Oh man that was AWFUL.
I hate you all.
Seriously. Thanks for the commiseration, dudes. NO...instead you say you want pictures. Pictures of my sad orange head.
Some friends I got, eh? (Except Badger, who offered to go with me to Sally Beauty Supply and figure this out. I like Badger. I haven't forgotten about your T-shirt, by the way.)
Fine. FINE! Here's my calico head. The spectacular blotchiness does not show up that much, but you can see roots and the orange pretty clearly.
Calico Karla. Oh Lord.
It doesn't look as bad here, but you can see I've gone about 7 shades lighter.
AH yes. SOOOO sexy.
Some friends I got, eh? (Except Badger, who offered to go with me to Sally Beauty Supply and figure this out. I like Badger. I haven't forgotten about your T-shirt, by the way.)
Fine. FINE! Here's my calico head. The spectacular blotchiness does not show up that much, but you can see roots and the orange pretty clearly.
Calico Karla. Oh Lord.
It doesn't look as bad here, but you can see I've gone about 7 shades lighter.
AH yes. SOOOO sexy.
In which I prove I am an idiot of the first order
Oh. Shit.
I'm sitting here in my bathrobe, with a towel wrapped around my head. A towel I may never take off. Ever.
You see, I thought it would be a good idea to highlight my hair today. "It's summer!", I told my self. "What better time to give yourself blonde highlights than a beautiful summer day in Norway? All the Norwegians have them, and the blonde might hide some of the grey you've got. So yeah, it's highlight day today! Go Karla! You are so smart by doing it at home and saving the $100 it would cost at the salon!"
So I went at my lovely red hair like a comb wielding banshee. I used a kit I got in the US last time I was there. (Norwegian kits come with the instructions in Norwegian. I'm sure I could be fine, but I prefer to do it in English so that when I am squinting confusedly at the instructions with goop in my hair and latex gloves on my hands I don't have to do the added thought process of thinking in Norske. ) I planned exactly where I wanted the streaks, and, having been told that with curly hair they should be a little bolder and wider, I went for BOLD.
Um, have I neglected to mention that when it comes to hair I am a rank idiot? I mean, I can't even hold a curling iron. Blow drying my hair means I turn my head upside down, blow the hair dry, stand up and whatever frizzy halo I end up with, I push back and go on with my day. I use goop and gels, of course, but I am TERRIBLE at styling my hair and always have been. Which means it's good that I have a curly mop, because it always looks the same...like a curly mop.
But now, my curly red mop is sort of, um, a calico orange blobbed curly mop. What I saw of it. I got out of the shower, looked at the results of my handiwork, screamed, and wrapped it in a towel. I didn't even have my glasses on and I could see how bad it looks. That's BAD, because I am BLIND.
I look like a calico cat. My highlights are LARGE ORANGE BLOBS. ORANGE. BLOBS. And the grey? Still there.
I'm scared to take the towel off. I don't want to look.
This may well be my first true hair disaster.
Damn me and my clever ideas.
I'm sitting here in my bathrobe, with a towel wrapped around my head. A towel I may never take off. Ever.
You see, I thought it would be a good idea to highlight my hair today. "It's summer!", I told my self. "What better time to give yourself blonde highlights than a beautiful summer day in Norway? All the Norwegians have them, and the blonde might hide some of the grey you've got. So yeah, it's highlight day today! Go Karla! You are so smart by doing it at home and saving the $100 it would cost at the salon!"
So I went at my lovely red hair like a comb wielding banshee. I used a kit I got in the US last time I was there. (Norwegian kits come with the instructions in Norwegian. I'm sure I could be fine, but I prefer to do it in English so that when I am squinting confusedly at the instructions with goop in my hair and latex gloves on my hands I don't have to do the added thought process of thinking in Norske. ) I planned exactly where I wanted the streaks, and, having been told that with curly hair they should be a little bolder and wider, I went for BOLD.
Um, have I neglected to mention that when it comes to hair I am a rank idiot? I mean, I can't even hold a curling iron. Blow drying my hair means I turn my head upside down, blow the hair dry, stand up and whatever frizzy halo I end up with, I push back and go on with my day. I use goop and gels, of course, but I am TERRIBLE at styling my hair and always have been. Which means it's good that I have a curly mop, because it always looks the same...like a curly mop.
But now, my curly red mop is sort of, um, a calico orange blobbed curly mop. What I saw of it. I got out of the shower, looked at the results of my handiwork, screamed, and wrapped it in a towel. I didn't even have my glasses on and I could see how bad it looks. That's BAD, because I am BLIND.
I look like a calico cat. My highlights are LARGE ORANGE BLOBS. ORANGE. BLOBS. And the grey? Still there.
I'm scared to take the towel off. I don't want to look.
This may well be my first true hair disaster.
Damn me and my clever ideas.
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
What I have to look forward to
The Eurovision song contest is coming up on May 20th. I'm already lining up the alcohol. For those of you in the US who have not been indoctrinated into the wonder that is the Eurovision contest...well, it's something. It's kinda like American Idol mixed with the Gong Show, and a little bit of Miss America thrown in. I've written about it before.
While this is not an actual Eurovision act, I think it is safe to say this is the caliber of performance we can look forward to.
See why I am gathering booze?
Thanks to Dan by way of Bookhart for the link.....
FYI: I'm almost done with Veronica Mars Season 1. It's killing me. One more episode. Then I have to wait THREE MONTHS for the next DVD? I don't think I can. Really. Not.
Oh and Margaret, I totally agree with you about Logan being a hottie. I think it's the intensity he brings. That stare he has. Oof. All girls have a thing for the bad boy gone good....or has he? Oy. Vey. I am DYING.
While this is not an actual Eurovision act, I think it is safe to say this is the caliber of performance we can look forward to.
See why I am gathering booze?
Thanks to Dan by way of Bookhart for the link.....
FYI: I'm almost done with Veronica Mars Season 1. It's killing me. One more episode. Then I have to wait THREE MONTHS for the next DVD? I don't think I can. Really. Not.
Oh and Margaret, I totally agree with you about Logan being a hottie. I think it's the intensity he brings. That stare he has. Oof. All girls have a thing for the bad boy gone good....or has he? Oy. Vey. I am DYING.
Sunday, May 07, 2006
Behind the times
My friend Margaret gave me the Season 1 DVD of Veronica Mars when I was in the States in January. She's kind of my tv guru, having introduced me to Buffy, Angel and that wacky gang from Serenity. She gave me the Veronica Mars DVD as a "long term loan", so that i can get it back to her eventually, but she knows me well enough that I will probably keep it and just buy her another one. I have just now, 4 months after she gave it to me, gotten around to watching it.
DAMN YOU MARGARET! It's a gorgeous gorgeous spring day in Norway, and I am stuck here, inside, in my jammies, on a Sunday when I should be out walking, watching this damned DVD because I just saw the episode where Veronica talks to the guy in prison and he tells her that her father may not be her father and that her ex boyfreind Duncan might be her half brother (!!!#$%!!!) and OMFG I have to see what happens now and I soooo can't go anywhere until I know what's next.
And I am supposed to be outside exercising so that I can lose weight for my high school reunion! But I'm not, I'm sitting on my butt, and it's all Margaret's fault for getting me addicted to yet ANOTHER tv show on DVD.
Margaret, I swear, I am taking you out for margaritas when I next see you in Austin and I am gettting you drunk on tequila and fat on nachos and THEN we'll see who's sorrry, huh? HUH? How ya like me now, beeyotch?
Yes, I know I am like, a year behind on Veronica Mars. Whatever. I do know, from Dave's blog, that something happens with her and Logan....like, for real? Oh my God! I thought he was like, a psychopath jerk from heck. Though, now that Duncan might be her brother and all, so that would be kind of gross if she and he did get back together after all.
I totally can't stand this. It's almost worse than that time that Buffy was all killing Angel and stuff.....
DAMN YOU MARGARET! It's a gorgeous gorgeous spring day in Norway, and I am stuck here, inside, in my jammies, on a Sunday when I should be out walking, watching this damned DVD because I just saw the episode where Veronica talks to the guy in prison and he tells her that her father may not be her father and that her ex boyfreind Duncan might be her half brother (!!!#$%!!!) and OMFG I have to see what happens now and I soooo can't go anywhere until I know what's next.
And I am supposed to be outside exercising so that I can lose weight for my high school reunion! But I'm not, I'm sitting on my butt, and it's all Margaret's fault for getting me addicted to yet ANOTHER tv show on DVD.
Margaret, I swear, I am taking you out for margaritas when I next see you in Austin and I am gettting you drunk on tequila and fat on nachos and THEN we'll see who's sorrry, huh? HUH? How ya like me now, beeyotch?
Yes, I know I am like, a year behind on Veronica Mars. Whatever. I do know, from Dave's blog, that something happens with her and Logan....like, for real? Oh my God! I thought he was like, a psychopath jerk from heck. Though, now that Duncan might be her brother and all, so that would be kind of gross if she and he did get back together after all.
I totally can't stand this. It's almost worse than that time that Buffy was all killing Angel and stuff.....
Friday, May 05, 2006
spring right of passage
Today is the second day of beautiful weather we have had. Up until yesterday it's been rainy and shitty, but it finally lifted and it's lovely outside.
So of course it makes sense that on the second day of sunny weather I've already seen my first sunburned bodies from yesterday. It's a Norwegian spring right of passage. You burn yourself on the first sunny day.
Today I took advantage of the gorgeous warmth and went for a long walk. A bit too long as I am worn out, but it was worth it. The flowers are starting to bloom, the grass is getting green, and the Norwegian ladies are out in their gardens in their bras. Ladies of a certain age (let's say, born before 1950) like to work in their gardens in their bras. You know, when you see a lady in her garden in that garb, that it is officially summer. The first time I saw it I thought it was kind of strange, but now I just think it is the cutest thing ever. I mean, why the hell NOT garden in your bra?
So of course it makes sense that on the second day of sunny weather I've already seen my first sunburned bodies from yesterday. It's a Norwegian spring right of passage. You burn yourself on the first sunny day.
Today I took advantage of the gorgeous warmth and went for a long walk. A bit too long as I am worn out, but it was worth it. The flowers are starting to bloom, the grass is getting green, and the Norwegian ladies are out in their gardens in their bras. Ladies of a certain age (let's say, born before 1950) like to work in their gardens in their bras. You know, when you see a lady in her garden in that garb, that it is officially summer. The first time I saw it I thought it was kind of strange, but now I just think it is the cutest thing ever. I mean, why the hell NOT garden in your bra?
and here we go again
More pictures. I'm not yet sure of what, so lemme dig thru and find some stuff....ah, yes, to continue with the previous food theme, I offer you:
Ronald McDonald on Khao San Road, Bangkok. Sorry, but he is just freaking scary whether Buddhist or not. Urg.
A restaurant we did NOT go to in Chiang Mai. Though I rather like the German-Mexican aspect of it, because that would totally fit in with the part of Texas I am from. We have a large German contingent in the Hill Country. And everyone likes Mexican food, right?
Well, here we go from the cheesy to the sublime. This was the appetizer I had at Le Normandie at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel in Bangkok. It is a seared tuna something or other with a reduction of this and a wasabi infused glace of that. I had no idea, I just ate it. It was phenomenal. That restaurant was so posh. They even gave me a little stool to put my purse (my over the shoulder embroidered $3 bag I got in Laos!) on so it would not have to rest on the floor! There I was, a glamourous tourist; sweaty, red faced, disheveled hair and disgusting from having toured the Wat Pho in 100 degrees of heat and humidity that morning, now sitting at the poshest damn restaurant in Bangkok. Nice.
The guy seated at the table next to us looked exactly what I would think a Chinese Emperor would look like. He ordered a thousand dollar bottle of wine to have WITH HIS LUNCH. Seriously. It was amazing. I was considering offering him 5 bucks just so I could have a sniff of that wine, because I know it would have smelled heavenly. But he also looked like the sort of guy who could have had me killed just by a slight hand motion which would have called over a bodyguard who would have then snapped my neck like a little twig. So I refrained.
This was the main course I had. It's also, like, the second time in my life I have had veal, because veal gives me the willies. But nothing else on the very small exclusive menu was anything I really wanted (other options including pigeon, sea urchin, etc.), so I got veal because at least I knew it was beef. Even if baby beef.
It was good. That baby cow died a noble death. (Yes I KNOW how they are kept which is why I don't eat veal, but well, it was already dead, wasn't it?) The little ice cream cone looking thingy in the upper left corner was a bit of cous cous in a radish. Very cute.
Today is the sort of day that reminds me why Norway can be so nice. Crystal clear skies, today it will be 75 or so. The breeze coming in the windows gently blows the freshly washed white curtains aloft. The air smells crisp and like the mountains. I have iTunes Radio on, broadcasting some trancey-dancey music that lifts my spirits in time with the floaty curtains.
I never understand why Norwegians leave this gorgeous weather in summer. I'm glad I got out in winter and early spring. Now I can enjoy the summer and have the whole country to myself. I am now going to go find my walkin' shoes and go for a hike.
Ronald McDonald on Khao San Road, Bangkok. Sorry, but he is just freaking scary whether Buddhist or not. Urg.
A restaurant we did NOT go to in Chiang Mai. Though I rather like the German-Mexican aspect of it, because that would totally fit in with the part of Texas I am from. We have a large German contingent in the Hill Country. And everyone likes Mexican food, right?
Well, here we go from the cheesy to the sublime. This was the appetizer I had at Le Normandie at the Mandarin Oriental Hotel in Bangkok. It is a seared tuna something or other with a reduction of this and a wasabi infused glace of that. I had no idea, I just ate it. It was phenomenal. That restaurant was so posh. They even gave me a little stool to put my purse (my over the shoulder embroidered $3 bag I got in Laos!) on so it would not have to rest on the floor! There I was, a glamourous tourist; sweaty, red faced, disheveled hair and disgusting from having toured the Wat Pho in 100 degrees of heat and humidity that morning, now sitting at the poshest damn restaurant in Bangkok. Nice.
The guy seated at the table next to us looked exactly what I would think a Chinese Emperor would look like. He ordered a thousand dollar bottle of wine to have WITH HIS LUNCH. Seriously. It was amazing. I was considering offering him 5 bucks just so I could have a sniff of that wine, because I know it would have smelled heavenly. But he also looked like the sort of guy who could have had me killed just by a slight hand motion which would have called over a bodyguard who would have then snapped my neck like a little twig. So I refrained.
This was the main course I had. It's also, like, the second time in my life I have had veal, because veal gives me the willies. But nothing else on the very small exclusive menu was anything I really wanted (other options including pigeon, sea urchin, etc.), so I got veal because at least I knew it was beef. Even if baby beef.It was good. That baby cow died a noble death. (Yes I KNOW how they are kept which is why I don't eat veal, but well, it was already dead, wasn't it?) The little ice cream cone looking thingy in the upper left corner was a bit of cous cous in a radish. Very cute.
Today is the sort of day that reminds me why Norway can be so nice. Crystal clear skies, today it will be 75 or so. The breeze coming in the windows gently blows the freshly washed white curtains aloft. The air smells crisp and like the mountains. I have iTunes Radio on, broadcasting some trancey-dancey music that lifts my spirits in time with the floaty curtains.
I never understand why Norwegians leave this gorgeous weather in summer. I'm glad I got out in winter and early spring. Now I can enjoy the summer and have the whole country to myself. I am now going to go find my walkin' shoes and go for a hike.
Wednesday, May 03, 2006
I really hope they did this on purpose
I really hope the Aftenposten folks are playing punny with this headline:
Beaver Shot in Downtown Larvik.
Beaver Shot in Downtown Larvik.
Food. Pink Drinks. Big Beer. Life is good.
I've gotten a request for pictures of food we ate while on our recent trip to SE Asia. I did take a few pictures, so here we go. Being me, and hello, EVIL, of course I also took pictures of drinks as well.
We had an amazing meal at Le Normandie at the Mandarin Oriental in Bangkok. (Pictures of that in the next post.) First, of course were the drinks. I've always followed the "when in Rome' theory of drink, so when in Thailand drink...Mai Thais! Mm.....Yummy Mai Thais. I had them in many posh places......
Here's the Mai Thai I had at the Four Seasons in Chiang Mai. Nothing so refreshing after a long ride on an elephant as a fruity rum drink!
Not being a snob, and once again practicing 'when in Rome', in Luang Prabang I drank Beer Lao. Beer Lao comes in big bottles. Beer Lao cost a buck. I drank alot of Beer Lao.
This was an appetizer we got at the River Ping Palace in Chiang Mai. We just told Esther, the owner, to set us up with whatever she wanted. This was part of the amazing meal that followed. There were fried mushrooms (interesting ones, not just white ones), chicken with lemongrass, calamari, prawns and some other stuff. It came with really spicy, not so spicy and sweet sauces. We ate it so fast I didn't really get a chance to keep track of it all.
Ok, so I kind of suck. The meal that came after the appetizer was so awe inspiring that I never got a chance to take a 'before" picture. There was a whole fried fish, Tom Yum soup, a curry, a prawn dish, fried rice and a whole bunch of other stuff. It was all so good and amazing, even had I had the forethought (and could get my jaw off the table) to take the picture, I don't think the others at the table would have had the patience to wait for me to take it!
There were many memorable meals that I did not get pictures of as well. One that sticks in my mind was the Thai style bbq we had in Mae Hong Son. I blogged about that one already, so won't bore you with it again, but for $8. including drinks, it just can't be beat as one of the best cheap meals I have ever had.
We had an amazing meal at Le Normandie at the Mandarin Oriental in Bangkok. (Pictures of that in the next post.) First, of course were the drinks. I've always followed the "when in Rome' theory of drink, so when in Thailand drink...Mai Thais! Mm.....Yummy Mai Thais. I had them in many posh places......
Here's the Mai Thai I had at the Four Seasons in Chiang Mai. Nothing so refreshing after a long ride on an elephant as a fruity rum drink!
Not being a snob, and once again practicing 'when in Rome', in Luang Prabang I drank Beer Lao. Beer Lao comes in big bottles. Beer Lao cost a buck. I drank alot of Beer Lao.
This was an appetizer we got at the River Ping Palace in Chiang Mai. We just told Esther, the owner, to set us up with whatever she wanted. This was part of the amazing meal that followed. There were fried mushrooms (interesting ones, not just white ones), chicken with lemongrass, calamari, prawns and some other stuff. It came with really spicy, not so spicy and sweet sauces. We ate it so fast I didn't really get a chance to keep track of it all.
Ok, so I kind of suck. The meal that came after the appetizer was so awe inspiring that I never got a chance to take a 'before" picture. There was a whole fried fish, Tom Yum soup, a curry, a prawn dish, fried rice and a whole bunch of other stuff. It was all so good and amazing, even had I had the forethought (and could get my jaw off the table) to take the picture, I don't think the others at the table would have had the patience to wait for me to take it!There were many memorable meals that I did not get pictures of as well. One that sticks in my mind was the Thai style bbq we had in Mae Hong Son. I blogged about that one already, so won't bore you with it again, but for $8. including drinks, it just can't be beat as one of the best cheap meals I have ever had.
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
bring my babies back to me safely.
Well, I did it. It's been needing to be done and I did it today.
I took my Lucchese Black Cherry Hand Stitched Classic Cowboy boots in to get them fixed. Not, um, fixed as in neutered, but having the soles fixed. (And if these boots could have babies I would definitely let them mate, because the world can only be a better place with baby Luccheses running around.)
I was a little nervous about taking them to a non-Texan shoemaker because damn, these boots are my babies. I've worn them in many many countries. To many events. I wear them every time I fly back to Texas. They are, as the song says, made for walkin'. They hug my feet like little leather lovers. They've even gotten me asked out on dates. (I said no, because the boots (and me) are married...) They are bar none THE most comfortable footwear I own, plus they go with everything. Skirts.... both long and short, pants, dresses, whatever. They ROCK. What if the Norwegian guy messes them up? I mean, these are the essence of Texan. It would be like asking a Texas tailor to make a bunad...there are some things that just need to be done locally.
But my babies needed some lovin'. And I knew that if I wore them in the state they are in I'd be messing them up. I haven't worn them this winter (leather soles + snow = Karla on her ass). But spring is here and it's boot time! So, I gritted my teeth and went to the shoe repair shop.
Immediately as I walked into the very old school, Geppetto-like shoemaker shop, I knew my babies would be ok. This shoe maker shop is very old fashioned, the door is in an alley off the road, and it just feels like the guy knows his shoes. I also loved him on sight because when I walked in with my boots he just smiled and gave me the appreciative grin of someone who knows good shoes when he sees them. I hung on to them a little harder than was normal, he kind of had to wrest them away from me, but he stroked the leather and oohed and aahed at all the right places, so I think that my babies have a good doctor to make them better. We talked shanks and toes and heels and walking patterns, leather and stitching, rubber vs leather bottoms, and I think this particular "skomaker" is the man for the job. I was even a little verklempft. It was a meeting of the ...soles.
So, next week I'll get my babies back with a new heel and a fixed up leather sole. It's spring and once this endless rain stops, it's walkin' time! And I need my babies to walk proud and tall....
Monday, May 01, 2006
three. friggin'. days.
Today is a holiday weekend in Norway. Labor Day, May 1.
And it has rained the whole time.
Sum total of my accomplishments is making veggie quesadillas (none with Jesus on them, though one resembled Mickey Mouse quite closely), a couple of necklaces for Mother's Day (any mothers related to me who are reading this blog, um, those necklaces are for other mothers, not you, so pretend you did not read that, 'k?) and watching Buffy, Season 7, which I was saving for when I got back from Thailand. Saving, ironically enough, for a rainy day.
That was "A" rainy day, ONE! Not THREE! And this is supposed to last through Thursday.
Dammit.
Anyhow, I am low enery and not feeling very bloggy. Which is good as this holiday is all about NOT working and having a day of rest. So I have an excuse to be lazy. Finally.
I have posted a couple of pictures on the Big Head Blog, though, so go over there for photo jollies, ok? I'll get going again later.
zzzz......
And it has rained the whole time.
Sum total of my accomplishments is making veggie quesadillas (none with Jesus on them, though one resembled Mickey Mouse quite closely), a couple of necklaces for Mother's Day (any mothers related to me who are reading this blog, um, those necklaces are for other mothers, not you, so pretend you did not read that, 'k?) and watching Buffy, Season 7, which I was saving for when I got back from Thailand. Saving, ironically enough, for a rainy day.
That was "A" rainy day, ONE! Not THREE! And this is supposed to last through Thursday.
Dammit.
Anyhow, I am low enery and not feeling very bloggy. Which is good as this holiday is all about NOT working and having a day of rest. So I have an excuse to be lazy. Finally.
I have posted a couple of pictures on the Big Head Blog, though, so go over there for photo jollies, ok? I'll get going again later.
zzzz......
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