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.
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