Former expat, living in Texas after 11 years in Norway. Kinda missing that expat life. No matter what, the journey never stops. I will always be a traveler. "Do not go quietly unto your grave".
Friday, December 30, 2011
IN which I am addicted to Downton Abbey
I saw this spoof of it on You Tube, from the BBC, that was so funny it actually made me snort my morning coffee out of my nose. That is rare, as I generally don't laugh before 9am, because i don't like mornings.
If this doesn't make you snort, you may not read my blog anymore. I especially lost it when they introduced O'Brien, about halfway through, when the servants were standing out side the house greeting the guests. BWAH HAHAHA! (Then Carson burped.) (Carson in this case reminds me of my friend Grant.)
HAHAHAHA!
Saturday, December 24, 2011
Merry Christmas!
If your particular Christmas doesn't look like this (and very few do, this is old town Tallin, Estonia, from a trip we took in 2009) I hope you are drunk enough, warm enough and happy enough not to care. I know I am!
Love, and thanks for visiting, Karla
flower FAIL
This is what she got. Some crappy white roses, carnations (I HATE carnations, HATE them!) and baby's breath. WHAT THE FRIGGETY FUCK? How did Fields of Europe become a Load of Crap?
I called 1800 Flowers and was all, "WTF?" They said the local florist is the one who makes the bouquets, and so they will let them know I am not happy. I'm thinking, if the local florist can't offer what is pictured, then maybe they should not offer to be a part of the 1800Flowers website. To the website's credit, they are going to redeliver what I ordered, and they gave me a 50% refund.
Now, my parents DO live in the middle of nowhere. I totally get that. But if a local florist says they can do whatever the website offers (and let's face it, these are not exactly exotic flowers that are offered) they better damn well do what they say they will do and not try to sneak something by me, and the customers of the website. I mean, wow. How shitty is that?
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Oslo party remnants
Oslo morning after. I found this bottle exactly as pictured. Someone is regretting drinking that!
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
My manky mink
I mean, yeah, I know people know that, but damn, it gets COLD in Norway. And sometimes my goosedown duffle coat just doesn't quite cut it. Sometimes, you need to go old skool.
So I finally gave in and went Russian style and bought a mink coat. (Russians know cold, and they know how to keep warm, too.)
Now, before you PETA types come screaming at me, listen up.
I don't buy new fur, and I don't think I ever would. (I do have my grandmother's old sable muff, and a fur stole that I bought from a vintage fur stand on Portobello road.) Not when there is so much awesome vintage fur around. Seriously, grannies die, and they leave all these fur coats around, and who am I to say no to a coat that is not only cheaper than any new run of the mill cloth coat, but actually, really, truly, no shit, keeps you warm? I think of it as haut recycling.
So, yes, I bought an old, second hand, used as shit mink coat. I got it at a Salvation Army type place in Oslo called UFF. As in, Uffda! I bought a mink! Well, actually, I made Rich buy it, though I picked it out, so that he could say, in all honestly, that he bought me a mink coat.
I kind of think the used mink might be the best thing I have ever gotten. It's warm. It's soft. It's oddly flattering. It's comfortable. It does glorious things for my 40+ year old skin. I can insouciantly toss it on over any old thing and I truly do feel glamourous. It cost about 7% of what a new mink cost, and it cost less than a new coat costs. It's real honest to God recycling, and I wonder who owned it before me.
I love love love love love it. Even if I do look a bit like a little teddy bear in it. It has no shape, it's just a fur barrel of warmth. There's sort of an ageist thing around here that only older ladies wear minks. I am still a bit young to be sporting the fur, ok, to be honest, right on the edge, but shit, I got tired of being cold and wanted something I could throw on and guarantee that I would not be cold. I figure, I am tall enough, perhaps hip enough, and young enough to carry it off ironically, especially since my hair is still long and wild and not short and 'set' like the older ladies. Plus I wear it with Frye biker boots. Old ladies don't wear Frye biker boots, do they?
I had a Russian friend of mine at work check it out. She expertly crinkled it up in one hand (it's not dried out, that's good), checked the fur for cracks (none), checked the weight (light and lofty, good quality), looked for shedding (none) and checked the shine and smell (all good). She said I got a good deal and that it is a high quality old mink.
All I can say is, this coat is the most practical thing I could have bought in Norway. It's warm, it's pretty and it's comfortable.
So here's me, wearing a mink. Ironically, yet practically. I feel glamorous in it. I like to toss it on the sofa at work, where it sits, like an uber-luxurious throw, and it shines in the dark Norwegian winter light. I totally get the appeal.
But, like i said, I wouldn't buy new. I like the old. It suits me.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
I got the butter hook up.
Busy busy. Thanks to two friends who gave me some black market Swedish butter, I've been able to be somewhat profligate and used a pound of butter to bake today. How decadent! Chocolate chip cookies complete, next up oatmeal raisin. Smells like the holidays up in here. Thanks, Sweden for filling in the holes left by the Norwegian dairy monopoly Tine and overly protective tariffs.
I have GOT to hit the gym tomorrow to make up for all the cookie dough I just ate.
Wednesday, December 14, 2011
Not dead, just hella busy.
He's rather a large elf, but useful for things like tree toppers and garland in high places.....