Guardian Angel

As usual, people have been bothering me to update this thing. Fair point I guess since I haven't written here since April. Back then I was thrilled about spring. Now I'm cursing the rain. Katia, you're a cunt! Glad we got that out of the way. See how the weather effects my mood!

For those who're missing the frequent insights in my life I can assure you, you haven't missed much. Not that it has been boring or anything, I'm quite happy with my life, thank you, there just haven't been that many memorable stories to share.

Something that did happen during the summer though was the shootings at Utöya in Norway on the 22nd of July. Most people who read this blog come here expecting jovial interludes from the day to day life and to laugh at the fat guy and I will return to my regular programming just shortly, but I want to say something that's been itching on my mind since then. It's futile and most likely an empty gesture but I need to get this off my mind.

*climbs onto soapbox*

'To all you Breiviks out there that contemplate deeds like his: you stand alone. There is noone who backs your way of thinking. You do not have anyone that share your belief. You are never going to be thought of as a saviour. You are not a martyr. Noone will thank you. If you go thorough with your plans know that you will kill and possibly die, not for someone elses sake, but for your own delusions. I welcome you to my doorstep, knowing that any act of aggression that you take out on me will lessen the risk that several others will get hurt and increase the chance of you being put away for life.'

*climbs back down*

Right... yeah that was probably a month and a half late.

Last friday I had a bizarre experience. I was heading home from work sharing a bus with a colleague of mine. We got off and she was heading one way with the tram and I the other. I noticed my tram approaching the stop and could have run to make it, but I figured that I'd chill keep my colleague company for a while while she waited for her tram. It didn't take very long and we said our 'goodbye's and our 'have a nice weekend's. I waited maybe two or three minutes before my next tram came. I took it the three stops needed to get to my stop and stepped out in the cloudy friday afternoon. As I crossed the little square just between the pizza place and the shoe store I noticed five or six policemen talking to what seemed to be witnesses, overhearing the witness say 'He fired several shots... yeah definitely several.'

I figured that I probably shouldn't be getting in the way so I headed home, still curious though about what had happened. I went online and checked the webpage of the local newspaper and after about 15 minutes an article appeared on the front page. Apparently a drugged out person had been shooting just minutes before I passed there. Then I continued reading. He had gotten into a silvergrey car and sped off, crashing into a fence in the intersection of 'Opalgatan' and 'Grevegårdsvägen'
'HEY! That's like right outside my balcony.' As in I could probably throw a tennisball and hit the road signs in that intersection from my balcony. (given not too many attempts I hope) So I walk over and look out of the window and sure enough, there the silvergrey car is with police cars all around it. The perp probably had been shipped off already though as far as I could tell.

Then I began retracing a little and I realised that had I ran for the tram, I would have walked into a man, high as a kite, shooting wildly about himself. My colleague giggled when I explained to her that she saved my life. Not the most reassuring guardian angel, but hey... I'll take it.

Yesterday I did CPR-training and took a course in how to use a defibrillator. It's something that I recommend that you do if you ever get the opportunity to. It will hopefully never matter, but for the times that it does it will make a world of difference.

Hopefully it won't be as long until next time.

Spring-time's ahead!

All right this is most likely when it falls to pieces. When the wheels fall of the wagon. When the nuts that hold together my rambling mind will disintegrate and leave me in a catatonic state.

Try to keep up because there might be a couple of logical leaps. You have all been warned.

I've spent the last couple of days in a state of constant tiredness. I've also noticed that outside it's now both warm and sunny. It's spring. Which in turn means that my state of constant tiredness and rubbing myself in the eyes isn't at all tiredness, but allergies. You have to take the good with the bad I suppose.

Days like today are why I love living where I do. The summer in Sweden is not much to write home about, but the beautiful spring, oh how you fill me with hope and joy. There's something very special about being able to look up into the sky and feel the rays of the sun against your face for the first time in 6 months.

I switched from winter tires to summer tires on my grandfathers car yesterday and I heard a bumble bee and I grinned sheepishly almost to the point that my father would have offered me grass. Let me get one thing straight, I'm not very fond of insects, but the first bumble bee of the spring always make me smile. Speaking of switching tires, yes that's a ritual us swedes do two times per year, haven't the car designers gone too far in their striving to minimize everything when the socket wrench is also an integral part of the car jack? Just asking.

Because of the weather I decided to walk home from my intermediate stop, walking through the neighborhood, passing all the playgrounds and all the little patches of grass. It's so refreshing to see that everything is just the way I remember it from when I was a kid. There were boys playing soccer, girls playing basketball, younger kids playing hide and seek and using the playgrounds. It's nice to know that the spontaneous sporting and playing hasn't died out completely with the advent of computers and virtual alternatives.

I remember fondly playing soccer on the slightly too small grass patch where I grew up. We would play hour after hour seemingly untireable, pretending to be Careka, Zico, Maradona, Thomas Brolin, (I apologise to any Leeds-fans) Gary Lineker, Marco van Basten or Rudi Völler. I don't know how many roses, orchids or violas we destroyed for our neighbours, but I'm sure it was plenty. One of the goal posts was a tree and the other was just a sweater that someone had thrown off. It was simple, but we were heroes.

Apart from being allergic to trees engaged in filthy and raunchy sex, I'm also allergic to cats, which I always manage to forget. Which means that most encounters with the felines go something like this:

Me: 'Naaaw, how cute!! *petpetpet*

Cat: 'Meow!'

Me: 'Hmm something is stinging a little in my eyes, I better rub them. Preferrably with the hand I just used to pet the cat'

Cat: 'Mrrrowwrr?'

Me: 'Sob!'

By the way I got an easter egg from work today, filled to the brim with candy. I opened it, in case you can't tell from the mushy, warm, fuzzy and romantic tone to this post.

Sunday was finally the day. The day that I somewhere deep inside had been waiting for for a couple of years. Techincally it was actually already monday morning here in Sweden when HBO aired the first episode of Game of thrones, but I'm not picky with the details. It wasn't the same feeling as when I went into the cinema to watch the Fellowship of the ring but similar. I'm very pleased with the first episode and the hour felt more like 15 minutes, perhaps it all was a little teensie bit rushed, but that's more or less the only complaint I have. I really really want anyone that reads this to give this series a try. It's well worth it. It has fantasy elements, but is not very much of a fantasy series. If you do download it and like it, please also buy the DVD-box or prescribe to the appropriate channel.

Speaking of HBO, TV-series and books. One of HBOs other great successes 'True blood' is based on a book series by Charlaine Harris. I like the TV-series a lot, so for my latest business trip I decided to purchase the first three books to have some light reading for the downtime that inevitably arises on trips like this. A fair word of warning to anyone thinking that it'd be neat to read the story behind the tv-series, the books are harlequin novels, smut novels or whatever epithet you prefer for books that will make an adult man in his best years blush and squirm uncomortably, remembering that he purchased the novels from a pretty girl in the bookstore and she gave him a funny look as she rang him up.

Ok, this might have turned out a little more coherrent than I feared. Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as my sugar-riddled brain did writing it.

Paving with good intentions

I'm pretty sure that you're all fed up with anecdotes about me failing at adult life so let me share what happens when I do the responsible and mature thing.

At the end of April I will be going to London. To achieve that I will most likely have to flash my passport to a surly British fellow with a stiff upper lip one way or another. My passport expires in march. This I have memorized. Being the mature and responsible man that I am I have planned to apply for a new passport this week. Go me! Planning!

Monday came around early this week, actually an hour early because of the Daylight Savings. If there's something I need early in my life it's not Mondays. Boobs on the other hand. Maybe we can have some kind of exchange program? Boobs for Mondays?

As I got on the bus to work I found that our CFO (Chief Financial Officer, the man with the dough, the man that keeps track of the economics) rather unexpectedly was sharing my public transport. Being a man virtually made for stealth I snuck up and sat down behind him without him noticing. He was playing with his iPhone. I knew that he had Facebook so I pondered adding him and sending him a message 'You really should pay more attention to your surroundings, Pähr'. But then I realized that I couldn't really be bothered. Instead we just had a hearty laugh when we both stepped off the bus at our stop.

As soon as I got into the office I realised that I had left my wallet on the bus. I called CaveMongo Inc* but unfortunately they had no way of contacting the bus driver. But they were really helpful and told me to check in with 'Lost&Found' today after lunch. So I began the tedious process of canceling all my credit cards.

'Yes, I left it on the bus'

'Because I'm a retard?'

'Yes, my ID was in the vicinity of the Credit Card'

'Because it's a wallet!'

'No I didn't keep my PIN there'

'Yes I will be needing a replacement card'

'Tell your sister that she has great breasts, I have some Mondays to trade for'

'You have a nice day too!'

I also cancelled my drivers license since it's a valid identification so someone who looks like me can go take out huge loans in my name. That's a 'bad thing', because I don't think that handsome fella would share.

See I did bad, but then I took my responsibility and did everything a normal functioning adult would do!

So today I called the Lost&Found of CaveMongo Inc. They've found my wallet. Greatness! I ride across town to reclaim my rather shabby wallet filled with an endless supply of useless receipts, (Don't give me that look, you all know what you have in your wallets.), cancelled credit cards, canceled drivers license and a bus pass that expires tomorrow. I'm still glad to have him back though because he's, you know, my wallet. We've been through shit together. We have a history, you know what I mean? I saved him from disintegrating in a soggy mess of instant coffee powder and blueberry soup. (Seriously I'm not making this up ask me some day). Besides he's a verification of me doing the right and responsible thing, even though I got myself in a sticky spot.

I returned back to the office and checked my passport. Expiry date March 22, 2011. Whaddya mean they actually specify the exact date of expiry? Not just the month?

'Hello, my name is Peter and I would like to apply for a new passport!'

'No I don't have a valid identification because my former passport have expired and I've cancelled my drivers license so people can't ,you know, take out new passports in my name and stuff.'

That's what you get for acting mature and responsible when you're really just a kid.

'Hello, my name is Peter, I'm going on 32 and have to have my father vouch for my identity.'

FML

*That's what I call västtrafik, the public transport company around here.Really you should know this stuff from before, why are you reading this?

Not an apology...

I can make a halfassed apology here for not posting for two weeks and claim that I've been busy and while that technically isn't untrue, you deserve better. Seven different versions of Solsbury Hill later, (I checked my spotify-playlist) I'm still ransacking my brain for anything amusing that might have come up since last. The guy I share an office with - of some blog fame - confessed today that he once again had caught a throat bug and was feeling miserable 'so with any luck you'll have caught it by the weekend'. 'DIAF'

I watched 'The kings speech' the other week as well. It was pretty darn good and very atmospheric.

I spent a couple of evenings watching season 2 of CSI:NY. Recognised all the product placement that our company and our suppliers do in that series. I suppose that's what they call 'work-related injury'. I have now added Anna Belknap to the not so exclusive list of women that I'd take to dinner and perhaps more after we've been appropriatly enebriated, but nothing kinky because she doesn't swing that way, but after a couple of drinks maybe and 'well, gosh darn it he seems like a really swell guy. Who cares if he likes ...' Thought I'd divulge my inner fantasies and perversions and turn this blog into a bad fanfic, did you?

I caught myself feeling bad for a couple of the victims in the show just like you're supposed to. My rational mind explained to my emotional mind that it's just a tv show and it's all scripted. Then I thought to myself 'There are people going through the exact same stuff and much much worse every day everywhere'. I'm usually not one for either doom and gloom or philosophical thought but for once I was disgusted at being human. Then I realised that I don't have to take responsibility for the rest of the human race, I was relieved. Just try to be the best that you can be.

Do you know how many versions of Solsbury hill there are on spotify? 27... 3 of which are Karaoke-versions.

'Is today really the correct day...?'

A thought that entered my mind a couple of weeks back. Not very deep or very philosophical. I can't exclusively think awesomeness, a mind needs variation. The drain in my bathroom from both my sink and bathtub has been a little 'unthirsty' lately. Fortunately working for a supplier of laboratory equipment has its benefits. Sometimes we have chemicals that pass expiry date. Sometimes those chemicals come in handy.

-Expired sodium hydroxide* meet drain. Drain meet expired sodium hydroxide. Hopefully you'll get along dandy.

Said and done. I removed the drain hose from my washer from the floor drain so it wouldn't get damaged from the drain cleaner(yes there's a logical leap here but I'm not always logical). However the day I put my nefarious plan into action was one of those days.

'So you missed the bus this morning, your lunch was overcooked and under-spiced, you paid good money for said lunch and lots of work came your way like that old friend that you have an absolute perfect reason to not call your current friend and that reason is that he just doesn't know when to go away...'
'... Is today really the right day to be handling corrosive pastilles without any kind of protective wear.'

I can see you from this side of the monitor going:

'Yeah this story ends with him getting corrosive burns'

Well, thanks for the confidence fucker, I do know my way around chemicals. I emerged unscathed.

It however got me thinking on making an update along the lines of 'Is today really the correct day...'

In the end it didn't seem all that funny. So it got ditched.

Today I got lots of things done at work, impressed people left and right made new acquantances. I did my regular 40 laps in the pool. Got a real good workout, kicked with the legs real good so I exercised the entire body not just the upper torso. I swam faster than I usually do. It was awesome! I was awesome! I was really really spent. After the swim I went to the grocery store. Picked up some Pastrami, some good bread, some Jarlsberg-cheese and 6 1,5literbottles of bottled water. (roughly 2,5 gallons for you metrically impaired). As soon as I got out of the store my arms were beginning to protest. I live on the third floor in a house without an elevator. There may have been crying.

'So you just gave your body the hardest workout in like forever...'

'...was today really the day to go buy a sumo pack of bottled water?'

I got inside and since I was still high on endorphins I used the momentum for something that was long overdue; my laundry.

I rounded up my clothes and fed the washing machine. However as I was feeding it the detergent my hand was so unsteady I spilled a non-zero amount of detergent into the compartment for the rinse. I'm not sure how your washing machine is constructed but I can assure you with mine it's physically impossible to remove detergent from the rinse compartment. So... 'I suppose rinse goes in here as well.'

The clothes I had decided to do first was my underwear. Every single garment of underwear in my apartment (I told you it was overdue, and yes I am indeed without underwear as I'm writing this). The thought of stiff and itchy underwear wasn't one I relished very much.

'Are you sure this was the correct day for doing your laundry?'

'Well now that you put it like that... but really there was no other option'

I sat down to do some chatting with friends, some listening to music and lo and behold writing a blog entry on the theme 'Are you sure this is the correct day...'. I also called my grandfather to see if I could borrow his car to go to Oslo this upcoming weekend for a nerdy card-game-event. Fortunately there was no problem with borrowing his car. For those of you unscholared in the arts of blinding flashes of obvious; this event of course takes place the weekend after this one. 'Was this really the correct day...' indeed.

Eventually I returned to the washing machine after it had quited down.

'HOW ON EARTH AM I STILL ALLOWED TO LIVE ON MY OWN?!?!?!'

'I SHOULD BE WATCHED LIKE MOST OF THE TIME SO I DON'T ACCIDENTALLY HARM MYSELF IN SOME COMPLETELY UNLIKELY WAY'

The draining hose from the washing machine that I foreshadowingly removed from the floor drain a couple of paragraphs up. I had cunningly left it on the floor, with a reminder in the back of my mind to make sure to put the hose back, or at least move it to the bath tub before I did any washing. Unsurprisingly my bathroom floor was wet all over.

My two stylish and very handsome bathroom rugs were saturated with laundry drainage. My clothes (including my wallet) that I had cunningly put on the floor in my endorphin rush were even wetter. Fuck you, I know what an oxymoron is. It's a moron that's so oxygen-deprived that he forgets his drain hose on the washing machine. By sheer dumb luck I actually went back and retrieved my iPhone from one of the pockets on the shirt that I had thrown on the floor before I started the washing machine.

'Was tod...'

'No... not at all. Not even close. There's a madman in Libya more correct than this'

Please note that I started working on this update before the drain-accident. Yes, my friends you get to experience retardedness in real time. I serve you nothing but the very best.

Today was the correct day for being today.

Have a nice correct today.

*Fancy chemist speak for 'drain cleaner'

I think this might be a big one...

You've read the blog now since its recent resurrection. Speaking of which, does that make this blog Jesus and me, as its creator, God?

As I was saying before I was struck with megalomania of Ghadaffi-an proportions:
You've read the blog and while I have provided lots of anecdotes about my personal life I'm not sure if I've let you all in on who I am. Most of you undoubtedly know me in person since I'm not that much of an internet-celebrity yet, a couple of you I've only met on a handful occasions and a few of you I've never met.

I am 31 years old going on 32. I weigh 137kgs/302pounds (yes I'm losing weight) stand 6'7/201cms. I don't do any drugs(prescribed or otherwise), I don't smoke and I only drink socially. I have no criminal record.I have a problem with lactose but not to the extent of lactose intolerance. I have developed an insulin resistance most commonly associated with type2 diabetes.

I work in marketing.

I subscribe to Richard Dawkins theories, but find his rhetoric unnecessarily provocative, especially when they're used by people who are just regurgitating for cheap points.

I'm at my happiest when I get to impress. Either be it when I pull out some random fact that I memorized or when I submit my writing for the scrutiny of your eyes.

I have a tremendous sense of duty paired with horrible self control. Yeah that leads to inner conflict and anxiety.

I have literary ambitions but am too lazy to get my work finished. I'm a storyteller and hopefully you all will get to read my story some day. I have a couple of projects in the pipeline.

I have one true fear and that is that I will lose the ability to make myself understood. I pride myself so very much in my ability to make people understand what I feel and what I mean.

I have been in life-threatening situations on two occasions, once in what was up until then the severest tram-crash in my towns history, and once when I was stuck under a fork lift.

The tram-crash was with my class mates in 4th grade (11 years old) and the driver of our tram apparently blacked out while driving on the part where the trams are allowed to drive the fastest. This day another tram had stopped there. I can still recall what I was thinking just seconds before the impact: 'nothing exciting ever happens in my life'...

'May you live to see interesting times', indeed. Yeah that didn't mess with my pre-adolescent mind at all. 4 of my classmates were stuck in the totally wrinkled mess that was the front of our tram. I wasn't harmed. I'm very happy that nobody died in that crash.

In 2003 I was once again in mortal peril. This time through my own accord. Without going into details a fork lift similar to the one shown on the picture had tipped backwards with me inside it. The toes of my right foot and the heel of my left foot was stuck beneath the forklift, which made the cap of my steel capped boot fold inwards and nearly sever my big toe and fracture my left foot calcaneus. That's basically the big lump in your heel. Everyone at work was superhelpful in getting me out from under there and I was convinced that I was going back to work. Paramedics and colleagues didn't agree. Because of complications in the healing process I was also gifted with infection and necrosis in the scrubs and scrapes that I got in the accident.

I use humor as shield to keep people from getting to know the real me. Not because I'm afraid that they won't like it, but because I'm afraid that there isn't a real me. I'm very adaptable. I fit in OK in most groups. OK being the operative word. I'm not them, I will always stand out a little. I will always be a _little_ strange to everyone. Peter Sellers once got the question 'What are you like in person' and supposedly he answered 'There is no me' or something to that effect. I'm afraid that that's me. Oh yes I did. I identified myself with one of the greatest actors of last century.

I have friends that I cherish beyond everything. I'm very careful with my privacy, not like I build fortresses around my home or anything. I just make sure to get good doses of me-time when I feel I need it. I'm afraid that it seems like to others that I'm shutting them out. Because I do care what people think of me. I'm very vain in some aspects. And no 'me-time' isn't a euphemism for masturbation. (this time)

I lost my mother when I was 17 and I wasn't ready for adult life. I jokingly say that at 31 I'm still not an adult and I suppose in some instances it isn't a joke.

I'd rather shut up than not know what I'm talking about which leads to me being silent in some conversations.

I hate clichés but use them far too often. Every now and then I catch myself with a cliché and it hurts every time.

When I publish my book, it will be under a false name. That way when I recommend a book to you, you'll never know if I'm self-promoting. And also because I like dramatic revelations. Perhaps even mostly because of that.

I pride myself in being able to see things through another persons eyes. As far as it's possible at least. I have a friend who's a real diabetic, not like us sugar-munching type-2 wannabee's. I can never put myself in his situation because I don't have anything at all to relate to.

I like piano music, I like rap, I like violins, I like heavy metal. I like good music.

I get romantic when I eat sugar. And believe it or not. I'm happy just the way I am.

It's been a long post, sorry for rambling. Now you know about me.

So... about Paris.

Last weekend I spent time in Paris as I mentioned in my earlier update. As it's physically impossible for me to travel even to the bathroom without some kind of fuck-up I thought I'd share what went wrong. It began around noon on wednesday, the day of departure. One of my fellow traveller has a girlfriend (Siobhan) who most graciously had accepted to give 4 lazy and whiny bastards a ride to the airport. Technically at least one of those sad souls had some kind of leverage as he was in position to withhold schtupping(Kenny). How the rest of us got a ride I will never know. (Well yes I do know. Because Siobhan is nice and awesome).

I had chosen the place for the pickup strategically at a spot right around the corner from one of the vehically impaired(Simon), to which I could get with not too much of a hassle and with no consideration at all for the last free-loader(Samuel), because I'm a bastard. The two love birds were already inside the car so they got no saying in where the pickup should be either. Which when I think of it seems a little odd since they are after all the ones picking US up. Yeah well fuck logic, I got to decide.

As I stepped off the bus I got a phone call from Simon which after confused introductions amounted to

'Why are you not here?'

'I'm here all right, just not exactly where you happen to be'

'Yeah, well we're on the EAST side of the freeway because it's the ONLY place a car can stop'

'OKOK, I'll be there in a moment'

The pickup spot was on a bridge over the freeway and I had a distinct recollection that there was a parking slot about midway across the bridge but Simon sounded pretty certain. I didn't want to argue the point and then end up being wrong looking like a complete fool for trying to prove to someone that 'reality is wrong, reject and insert my version instead'.

I was greeted by Simon and his girlfriend Johanna, who is cool enough to not get her name in brackets. And we sat down discussing for a while. After a non-zero amount of time Kenny called me and asked where we were.

'We're on the east side of the road because here's the only place that you can park a car'

'How abouts this nice and dandy parking slot halfway across?'

'Simon, you're a retard.'

After throwing our bags in the trunk I moved to take my seat as shotgun. Oddly enough it was already occupied by the Kenster. I'm 6'7 and 308 pounds, Kenny is one hearty slap on the shoulder from dwarfism. Anyone with a slight sense for logistics would realize that shotgun should be me. I tried to argue my point by explaining that the net comfort in the car would be maximized if I sat in the front seat but Kenny was as unwavering as New Zealand bedrock.

We of course spent the entire trip to the airport complaining.

The flight went smoothly and we even picked up another fellow traveler along the way (Bertil).

I think flights are more or less the only thing that ever goes smoothly on my trips. Thinking that I'm traveling with Kenny who's Captain OCD, I assumed that we wouldn't have a problem finding our way around Paris and, most importantly, to the hotel. This time, however, Kenny had all of a sudden decided to take a more laid back approach to travelling. 'I have no idea' was not an answer I expected. I looked all over for ventriloquists, but I had to face the fact that I was in enemy territory without map, radar, GPS, a sense of direction, a polar star to fly by or competent allies.

Having anticipated that I might loose Kenny somewhere along the way, I had done SOME (capitals for emphasis) recon up front. The hotel offered a shuttle from CDG airport, but that sounded expensive so I didn't consider that a plan A when I was laying out the strategy, but it would serve as a contingency for the moment. This shuttle was obviously a figment of someones most vivid imagination, misinformation planted on us by enemy agents or an attempt to boost the hotel rating on the booking site.

I had also contacted 'our man on the inside' upfront to inquire about any suitable means of travel. In this movie this role is played (pretty badly) by Andreas, who had been vacationing in Paris for a couple of days already with his girlfriend.

'There's a train going from the airport, get off at Gare d' something something and then get lucky in the Metro'.

'Thanks buddy, now please drown in your own vomit!'

My handsome and firm behind was saved by Samuel who had up until now mostly served as a comic relief. Seems like a scraggly 'goggle maps'-printout and a bit of french was all that he needed to turn a desperate situation into a decisive victory.

On the third day the four inhabitants in our room had split up. Not a bad idea per se, but for the fact that we had just one key. A key-key you know the good old fashioned kind that's a lump of metal attached to a larger lump of metal so that the former lump of metal won't get lost. Key cards are obviously for the weak and simpleminded. This key we'd leave at the front desk whenever we left the hotel and then whoever got back first got the key back. This way the key could theoretically only be in two places, either in our room or at the front desk. No problem, right? Cue Simon 'the fuck-uper of perfectly normal situations' Englund.

Simon had taken out the key from the front desk to let himself in, taking the key with him into the hotel room, and promptly fallen asleep. Now this wouldn't be a problem but for the fact that Simon is close to unwakeable by earthly means. As in that Charlie Sheen is close to having an addiction problem. He slept through first 15 minutes of knocking by one of the other inhabitants in the room and then 15 minutes of my knocking.

Eventually I somewhat embarassingly made my way down to the front desk to ask for a spare key. It's something programmed in our Swedish genes, we hate to be a bother. We don't want to cause anyone extra work. But what had to be done had to be done. I want to sleep in the bed that I paid for damnit. No Sleeping beauty would take that from me, no matter how much I have to bother the clerk at the front desk.

'Ehh, do you perhaps have a spare key to our room, maybe, if it's not too much trouble, kind sir, please?'

'No, I already gave the key to your friend. He's upstairs'

'Yes I know he's upstairs the problem is he seems to have fallen asleep with the key in the room'

'Maybe you can knock?'

'GEE! Why didn't I think of that? Knocking!!' I didn't say to him, instead opting for the slightly more diplomatic. 'I've already knocked for 15 minutes', showing my knuckles, hoping that some kind of blemish would materialize to underline how much I had knocked. There was a slight pause and I thought I'd liven up the awkward situation a little with 'I've ran out of knock'

The clerk looked very confused at me and didn't find my witticism at all funny.

'Ran out of knock?'

'Never mind, just give me the spare so I can let myself in and proceed to beat my friend bug-eyed.'

'Bug-ey....'

'KEY!!!'

Eventually we came to an understanding and he was very helpful when the language barriers had been cleared away. He presented me with a key chain roughly the size of Coventry. Of course these keys were unmarked so not unsavory individuals could loot out the entire hotel if they got a hold of the keys. After about another 25 minutes of trying keys I found the right one and proceeded to lay down the smack on Simon. Johanna, if you ever wonder why Simon has a knuckle-shaped impression on his right thigh...

It's the unexpected things in life that makes it worth living. In retrospect you almost always have more fun when things don't go as planned. The rest of the trip was however very enjoyable even though there was very little in the way of unplanned events.

This will be all for now.

Every rose has its thorn.
Alone on Valentine's day again, Poisons old smash hit on repeat, stuffing my face full various light food and mineral water.
Still with the same smile, though, knowing this year more than ever before that there's someone out there for me as well.
I intend to go out and find you and when I do, it will be nothing like those romantic movies. I will come to you when you need me the most or when you don't need me at all. I'll come to you looking my finest and I'll come to you looking like I just rolled out of bed. I'll come to you with flowers and I'll come to you just to watch you smile. I'll make promises I can't keep and I'll swear you oathes that I can never break. Because life doesn't serve us Foie gras on silver plate every day but that doesn't mean that it won't taste as good when it does.
To all you couples out there. I hope you have a nice evening, I hope you share something memorable. Perhaps it's time to break out that bottle of wine you were saving for 'a special occasion', those lingerie that you only put on on really special nights or maybe it's just being close to the one you love, smelling him/her. Don't waste a perfect opportunity to make your day special.
To all you people out there saying that Valentine's day is just a commercial jippo, well a hearty 'Fuck you'. It's what you make of it, it's an excuse to do things you've never tried with your lover, maybe you'll find a new favorite restaurant, get to see that movie that you've both been wanting to see but putting off or maybe feel your heart flutter for just an instant when he/she says 'Darling, there's not a day that goes by when I'm not grateful for waking up next to you'
I was in Paris during the weekend and got a taste of what will come to us in late april. I was drinking cheap wine in the spring sun. I was drinking champagne in the shadow of the Arc de Triomphe. I was playing cards and hanging with friends. How come noone told me up until now that all the french girls are pretty? It's like going out back home, but with less blondes.
For you all that stayed at home. Guys? 'The fuck? I leave the country for five days, everything looking fine and dandy, a steady melting going on, no crises of any kind and what do I get back to? Buttfuck degrees below zero and re-elections. Jeez, you're all out of the rotation for my next visit abroad.
This will be all for now... and remember to hug someone you like!

Fate, co-workers and me (the unexpected sequel)

Or... what the fuck did I do this time? (that's an alternate title for all you illiterates out there)

Last week I got back to work after a long sick-leave. I had flu. So on wednesday my co-worker arrives in a bad mood, looking like something the cat didn't want to drag in.

'I'm sick but I have tons of work to do' was his excuse.

'Yeah well if I catch whatever you're having, I'm gonna throw heavy and hard objects at you. If you nose-block me, I'll motherfucking kill you'

He was very sneaky though, because the first of my symptoms didn't show until the weekend. Saturday morning to be precise. Fever and a runny nose and a sore throat. Needless to say the weekend was spent in a state vaguely reminiscent of 'Gossip girl', ie pure unadulterated anus.

Things I learned during the weekend:

Nothing rhymes with orange.

The homepage where one can read famous last words in RPGs is still up.

People don't update their statuses often enough on facebook during the weekends.

Slight aside:

I want to make love wild and raunchy love to Helena Ekholm and her sister Jenny Jonsson*. They have fabulous bodies, that they apparently don't mind putting into unreasonably tight suits. They have wicked stamina. They have long blonde hair, that I'm sure that they don't mind putting up in ponytails. Yes, really. Ponytails, really. And they shoot rifles! Understand that these girls hit things roughly the size of my areolas** from 50 metres away. If either of you read this... give me a call. Post in the comments if you need my number.

End aside.

Sunday, hell continued but I managed to watch a movie that I got recommended to me called 'What dreams may come'. I was warned that it was a bit bittersweet. Yeah... I watched a sentimental movie, with my nose clogged and slightly feverish. I thought I could handle it. I could not. It was waterworks all the way. By the end there were tears in exactly every part of my appartment. Better call the landlord to check for water damages.

Monday morning I decided to go to work again. 'Quid pro quo, fucker'. My sly invertebrate of a colleague had next-leveled me though. As I start picking up bottles for flinging excercises he admits. 'I was home at two of my friends yesterday and played with their 1-year old for almost 5-hours straight. This morning the father called to tell me that she had been puking and had diarrhea all night'

I was baffled, dumbstruck and at a loss for words. Proper responses would of course have been any of the following:

"Have you started doing drugs? Because to me it sounded awfully lot like 'I'm most likely contagious again and any long-term contact with me by say sharing a small office for an entire workday will result in the catching of said pathogen'. And I just don't see anyone in their right mind wanting to put themselves through the excrutiating pain that will inevitably follow my return to work."

"You need to get out of this office more than Christina Aguilera needs to learn the Star-Spangled banner lyrics"

But I resigned with a 'Well played'

As the afternoon rolled around a quick check out the window confirmed that it had infact started snowing again. I checked the weather services webpage for updates about the weather. 'Oh? just a class 2-storm warning? Par for the course, I assume' I left work in good time to make it to the busstop and the bus actually arrives on time. Those following my blog will undoubtedly know that this is like being part of some great celestial event. When I get to the tram stop ( I have to take a tram and a bus to get to work) it all made sense again. The tram had broken down, it just sat there blocking the rails for any working trams that would happen to, you know, head my way. All in all... I spent the better part of the wait pondering what Karmakaze-inducing action I have performed to deserve this, then I looked down on my shirt. 'You've got to be kidding me, green with white stripes can't POSSIBLY qualify as light-coloured clothes'

Tomorrow and wednesday will be an interesting day as I'm flying to Paris on wednesday. With any luck my mucus-filled sinuses will explode so I don't have to suffer the indignity of having diarrhea and vomiting on an airplane.

Have a nice day, y'all

*They compete in biathlon, google them if you have to.

**If it's not chilly that is.

Nothing much today. Just a couple of recommendations.

TV-series

Sherlock, a new take on the old detective. A British mini-series with 3 90-minute long episodes. Breathes genuine quality in a different pacing than what you're used to from both British detective stories and american tv-series. SVT1 showed first episode in Sweden last Sunday.

Pillars of the earth, another British quality production. A bit fantasy-esque minus all the fantasy. It's set in 12th century England and full of fascinating and captivating characters that each plot, dream and hope. It's not 'the guys in black beating the guys in white'. Swedish tv3 just ran the series, but it should be available on DVD.

Both of these series are very 'full' in that that each episode leaves you satisfied and with a sense that they have been made with a purpose instead of filling a season.

Fringe, this is X-files, but with a more warmer, human attitude. Very loveable characters.

House, this is one for the cynics. For those not familiar with the series, it's basically CSI with the human body as a crime scene. It's a medical show, but very unlike ER. The main character is misanthropic, coleric and does things his way. He's bitter but with a twinge of humour.

True blood, vampires in southern USA, mingling with other people but preferring to keep to themselves mostly. Warning though, this is an HBO series and therefore does not hold back on either gore or sex. It is more than that though.

Movies

I'm a guy with pretty generic taste in movies... I think. I appreciate a good action movie as well as the next guy, I don't balk away from blockbuster movies just because they're blockbuster movies, although here I will try to recommend a couple of movies that you might not have heard of.

The man from earth, this is NOT an action movie, at all. It's a very talk-y movie in a cozy atmosphere that asks the question 'what if'. I won't give away more of the plot than that.

Pandorum, this on the other hand IS an action movie and has been likened to Aliens meets Event horizon. I think one of those two movies is good and the other scary as hell but not supergood.

The Prestige, a Nolan-movie that at least I missed when it played at the cinemas. But that could have been me hiding under a rock or something. Nonetheless it's a very good movie about two rivaling magicians and of course there is a Nolan-twist.

Sorry not very many bile-filled rants today. I hope I might convince you to watch at least some of them and I'd be extremely happy if those were Sherlock, Pillars of the earth or Pandorum. Oh and a pre-emptive recommendation. On 17th of April begins showing Game of thrones. It's a high quality book-series that I hope and expect HBO will turn into a high quality tv-series. From what this rabid fanboy has seen so far, he has no reason to complain.

Sweden is once again in the icy grip of Jack Frost.

Goddamn it and fuck it all to hell, I swear I'll kick this frost-guy 250 years into the future.

'How you like them global warmings, punk?'

I'm not really that upset about the cold itself. It's this whole 'first melting the snow and then freezing everything again leaving exactly every millimetre of Peters otherwise miserable existance entirely encased in slippery' I don't come to terms with. Ice is cool on nipples and in whiskey, enough is enough all right?

Had a conversation with a currently incapacitated friend after a skiing accident in S:t Anton. It went something like this:

'Haha, sorry for not replying earlier, I was in the other room fetching another pillow. No I won't be heading out on saturday... I don't have the strength to be active for an entire day'

'No probs. Yeah I can relate to both taking forever to move to the other room and not being strong enough.'

I was setting her up for setting me up for an unpresedented punch-line. I wanted her to reply something in the lines of 'oh yeah, you were on crutches for 3 months back in 2003' so I could deliver the goods in an exquisite mixture of humbleness and selfdepreciation with this comedic geniality 'No Sara, I'm just fat remember'.

She never took the bait. Apparently I have better script-writers than the rest of the world. Fuck you all.

Yes, I'm a bit on the bitter side today. Really shouldn't be. My sister had her first baby yesterday and Lovisa,the baby, is really pretty, unlike all the other newborn lumps of flesh I've seen. Must have something to do with the genes. Before you all get your g-strings in a twist, she's my step-sister. And yes, my sister's really that pretty.

Another irrelevant study reported in the tabloids showed that Swedish women want more sex. This study is of course tailor-made to generate clicks on the webpage and to sell more of whatever that they're selling. Yeah the study was made by Pfizer. It doesn't take very much of a cynic to connect the dots. I'm over-qualified. I , however, want to make this irrevocably and perfectly clear: 'Swedish women, here I am!' Preferrably you're between 22 and 35 but I'm not picky in either direction. Lame? Yeah, but I'll be the one with all the hotties lining up outside my door.

Tonight I'm heading to bed early.

This is Commander-in-chief, signing out.

New year, new blog-layout, new posting frequency?

The background is from a trip I took to Kiruna in the northern parts of Sweden, it was something that meant a lot for me. My sister got married in the ice church at Ice Hotel. I chose this as my background because it's a stunning vista and more importantly because it's something I have taken very dearly to my heart. I hope that 2011 will be just the same, a stunning vista that I can take to my heart and keep forever.

Enough with sentimentals. I know that most of my readers only come here for my rants. I'm going to let you have some insight in my work-life. I work in marketing. Marketing for the Swedish branch of a large coorporation dealing in laboratory supplies and apparature. I'll share a few anecdotes.

Among other things we sell chemicals. One of our customers is a company manufacturing pharmaceuticals. Such companies are under strict regulations and need to audit the suppliers in accordance with FDA regulations. The supplier in question was a Polish chemical firm. After such an audit had been done we arranged a meeting between the customer and the supplier to go over what problems had been detected. We represented with the Product manager in chemicals and the Sales Representative handling the customer on our behalf. The supplier represented with the CEO and the on-site lab technician, both females in the mid-30's.

This meeting was held just outside my office door so I could hear exactly everything that was going on. It was one of those fairly akward meetings; there were a bit of language barriers, there were some cultural differences and the natural awkwardness that comes when someone has audited you and found problems. A very professional and courteous tone was being maintained though and there weren't any serious problems to talk of really. Everyone was very relieved when the audit had been reviewed by all parts and the tensioned lessened. The CEO then asks our Sales Rep if he could tell them a thing or two about our company. We do have a power-pointpresentation just for things like this, but unfortunately it's only in Swedish. So our Sales Rep shows the slides and translates on the fly.

However it bothers him to no end that he doesn't have anything to hand out or that he can't find the presentation in english, he feels a little bit unprefessional. But then he realises that with him he has a handout listing all our major suppliers in each and every field that we work in, fairly neatly presented. This puts him to ease as we work with high profile brands in every field. So he gives the two women the hand-out and they begin looking through it. He is just about to continue his presentation when the CEO interrupts him very calmly:

'I understand now why our figures for your region remain at such a low level, since under important chemical suppliers you have listed all of our competitors but not us'

This remains to this day the gravest faux pas I have ever experienced in my work life.

My other anecdote is about a customer that manufactures PVC. I read in the local newspaper that they had to close their plant, under penalty of 6million USD/day, because the Swedish work environment agency performed an inspection and found that they still hadn't fixed the problems that were discovered 6 months earlier. Apparently it was a problem with a vessel containing chlorine gas.

As a manufacturing company, by what reasoning is it correct to ignore the work environment agency when they come by and say 'Heya guys, you should probably take a look at this'. Do you just go 'Sure, sure we'll totally do that' and hope that they won't come back? Or do you reason 'What's the worst that can happen'?

I've studied chemistry, and I know that chlorine gas is toxic. I've also studied some history... and I know that they used that shit in two world wars! To KILL PEOPLE!

The world is a place where millions of bad decisions are being made each day fortunately they are outweighed by the incountable good ones. That's why I never become mad when someone makes one. It's when they start defending their bad decisions without a moment to reflect on their actions I go ape-shit.