This is probably one of the most amazing things I've seen (heard) lately, and I thought I'd share it with you. But judging from the YouTube stats this is either first nor last time the clip is showed. At this moment it has been viewed 1 408 842 times, commented 792 times and favorited 4129 times. And it has 24 honors. All this in less than a month!
Enjoy! Make sure you have your speakers on and volume up...
People care to write on the net about the most peculiar events. Like this one.
Hiam Sports & Social Club is "situated in the small village of Prickwillow some 4 miles from the city of Ely in Cambridgeshire, and has one of the best dance floors in East Anglia and holds regular Ballroom and Sequence Dances, Country Music Nights and Rock'n'Roll Nights." That's not strange, and their website seems to be quite well organized and not bad at all. I'm sure it's quite useful for their members and other who's interested in what's going on there. But they have recently installed a new dancefloor, and they documented the whole process!
Maybe not so strange after all, just look what I care to write about...
I've gotten an assignment! Then I might be able to do something useful here, after all?
There's a lot of interesting stuff going on here at The Institute of Marine Research, and Øystein Skaala has with his work made a fascinating contribution. With DNA-technology they are now capable of tracing escapees from the salmon farms, and that's pretty amazing, I think.
My part in this is to write a Newsletter about the subject, which then will be distributed to some 500 different places around Norway, like The Directory of Fisheries, The Norwegian Coastal Administration, The Ministry of the Environment, and various universities and research institutes.
I hear from some of the others here that they don't necessarily pay that much attention to what they write about; they merely do a summery of some scientific report, and translate it to a language understandable for people outside that particular research area. I'm not sure if that lack of interest in the scientific material is just because it has faded, or if they never were that interested to begin with, but I know for myself that I find it immensely engaging. It could have something to do that I'm not under that same time pressure as "my colleagues" are; as a student I'm not expected to produce as much. What a luxury! Better enjoy that while I can, one day I too have to work for money...
My brother is constantly providing me with more or less amusing stuff. A lot of it is rather raunchy, and not suitable for public view, but this one is absolutely beautiful.
In danger of being stamped as a complete nut case, I'll once again bring up the subject of my somewhat split mind. In almost everything I encounter, be it academically or personal, I tend to look at it from at least two points. That is usually a good thing - being inquisitive and critical makes me able to come up with well founded answers or solutions to most challenges.
But the problem starts when "they" (the different parts of my mind) won't work together, or one of them simply goes AWOL. (Remember this is merely metaphorically speaking, I'm not suffering from Multiple Personality Disorder...) Today this is really bad, as I need to come up with an idea for our semester project in HCI Design. How on earth am I to contrive some innovative and exciting design, when I right now am sooo fed up with computers? I know this is only temporary, but days like these, when sun shines and we're looking forward to the warmest March in history, I really don't see the point in providing my umbrella with a computer chip to make it automatically unfold at a certain level of humidity in the air...
What I (or at least that unfaithful dissenter who thinks he's ruling my mind today) mean, is that today I'm not in the mood for making yet another part of our daily life computerized. So if anyone has a really brilliant idea, let me (us, hah-hah...) know, will you?
This was fun. And it didn't hurt either.
My secret is no longer a secret, and as of today I have a tattoo on my left shoulder!
Getting this might come a little unexpected to some, but the idea has actually been in my head for quite a while. I have now reach a stage where I feel I can trust my instincts, most of the time. And when suddenly there appeared so many "signs" and influences at the same time, I just knew it was right, and when the decision first was made, everything else sort of fell into place very smoothly. Design, symbolic value, position and so on.
I have talked to my whole family in Sweden, and the reaction was cool and nice, and I wouldn't be surprised if even my mom went ahead and got one herself.
I'm actually a little high now, probably due to the rush of endorphins...
Just a little bit. But now I'm in a hurry, need to catch a bus at ten. I have a meeting with my group from INFO161 first, before I'm off for my mystery tour...
-So, how was your first day at work? a friend of mine asked me yesterday. Then I couldn't answer, 'cause I simply didn't do anything. Nothing that could be called work anyway. Today though I was so desperate to be useful that I offered myself to do any type of slave work. I even volunteered to make coffee. But these people are so nice that they at first didn't take me seriously.
-You're here to learn, aren't you? Why do such boring tasks?
Well, I haven't exracted PDF-files before, so why not give that a go? The annual report consisting over 200 pages is supposed to be devided into chapters before it's published to the net. And each chapter is usually not longer than 2 or three pages, so you'll do the math. A lot of extracting, ctrl+c, ctrl+v and ctrl+s and so on. But I actually believe this kind of work could be very fulfilling (at least for a change) - it's so easy to measure your progression. And at the end of the day you can leave it all behind. It'll still be there by Monday...
I'm not coming in here tomorrow, have something else to do. By three o'clock you acn check it out on my Mobile Blog!
Most people love to travel, and a couple of weeks ago we traveled in the three dimensions of space, by the means of computer technology and Google Earth. Last night we travelled into the fourth dimension, this time aided by YouTube. By simply putting our minds a few decades back, and type in relevant search criteria, we could watch old episodes of Dave Allen, Monty Python, Not The Nine O'clock News and videos of ancient rock stars. We're talking the seventies here... And who won't laugh at the Swedish Chef from the Muppet Show?
H.G. Wells (1866–1946) said in the first chapter of The Time Machine from 1898: "There is no difference between time and any of the three dimensions of space except that our consciousness moves along it."
Wonderful evening, and I could swear I was still sixteen when I left the building. But maybe that had more to do with my travel companion than anything else...
I'm just a little excited. Tomorrow I'll be going to The Institute of Marine Research for five weeks of training. Only twice a week, but still. It'll be nice with something "real" for a change, 'cause I must admit I'm having some minor problems finding the motivation for studying in general. Maybe this will give me a little boost?
I still have to fit this into the schedule with my other course, with lectures and work groups, but it just have to work. And as always I'm very concerned that I might not be able to pull the semester off, but by judging from previous years I'll probably be OK after all. At least no one is taking me seriously when I complain, so I'll just have to keep my mouth shot...
And to make an exciting day even better I'll finish it off with a little visit. Someone has really started to be adventurous, and tonight he had a go at some home baked lemon cake, which I'm promised a tiny slice of tomorrow. Aren't I the lucky girl?
So, better hit the sack, need my (beauty) sleep. I'm not interested in making a fool out of my self the first day at "work"...
My father is visiting me this week, which is always a pleasure. It's challenging too, as it often is when you live so close up to someone for a week. But whatever disagreements we might have it's worth it; my father has always been, and still is, very important to me. (So is my mother, but she's coming next month, so I'll come back to her then...)
The other day we were talking about this and that, and he asked me:
-You know that your grandfather served in the Navy, don't you?
I wasn't sure really, and I started to think about my grandfather, who died when I was 12. I remember my grandparents on my father's side, as an older distinguished couple who had all the time in the world, and more than willingly let me stay for sleepovers. I could sit at the opposite side of his desk and listen to his stories for hours. The funny thing is that I can't remember a single one of them, all I remember is the atmosphere and how i felt. A little in aw, and honored. But he sang, I remember that, or at least I think it's a memory. The truth is however that he did sing a lot earlier, and my father still talks about the book, with all these old songs written down, which was stolen from my grandfather's backpack while they were marching in the military. So at some point I must have known that he'd spent some time in uniform, but I guess I only thought of it as his military service. To me he was a retired bus driver.
But that's how kids think. They get the facts, and jut put them somewhere in storage without dealing so much with them. Kids are much more living now than yesterday, and so did I. My grandfather was 68 when I was born, so all I knew was this gentle and kind senior person. But apparently he served six years, and started out as a submarine seaman right after WW1.
He couldn't continue that due to some damage to his eyes. While using the observation scope to scan the sea surface and sky, the seamen's eyes were unprotected against the harsh reflections from the sun, and a lot of them got injured.
My grandfather therefore started to sail with minesweepers such as S/S Srängaren and S/S Blenda, and he also served as chief steward on the cruiser HMS Fylgia around South America.
That my father's older sister was born in 1926 I guess could have something to do with my grandfather giving up his Navy career, and when he went ashore for good he started out as a chef and butcher. Probably not both things at the same time, but so far my father's recollections are a little mixed up about this. Understandable, considering he was just a baby. We might get it sorted out sooner or later, but it's not that important.
All the small things we don't know, about people who are close to us. I think I'll have to sit down soon with my father and start record everything. He's a story teller, as his father was, and I feel a little obligated (and inspired) to keep up that tradition.
Maybe not a star, but he's in a movie which he didn't post at YouTube himself.
He and his team played a game the other day; and he was really rockin', feinting this poor opponent Arnstein out so often that Arnstein's team mates decided to cut a little movie from it.
So here's "Arnstein Doing The Twist": x
Pablo Picasso: Embrace (1971)
This isn't the original post, 'cause luckily I have friends who'll help me see straight when I don't. I was too focused on what I really tried to convey, that I missed the point that I was being crude, and that is not a trait I'd like to be associated with.
But all in all, maybe this turned out OK anyway? I'll just leave the head line. You see, after all a look does say more than a thousand words, and maybe I now won't need a whole essay every time I want to express how I feel?
I love secrets. Or do I?
A secret could be so many things, and not all are that easy to keep, for different reasons. A friend could have told you something in confidence, and those secrets are easy to keep to yourself. Unless she or he in some way was hurting someone else. Luckily I haven't come across such a dilemma for a long time now.
A secret could be that you're daughter is turning fourteen and you've just bought the best gift ever which she'll never guess, and it's still four days until her birthday... That's the kind of secret I love, and I can't wait to see her face on Thursday!
A secret could be something you've done, which you know will hurt other people if they knew. But I do believe I'm behaving quite well most of the times, and I think all the skeletons in my closet have taken a hike long ago.
But I do have a secret, and I'm almost bursting here. I have been thinking about this a long time, but I don't think I ever told anyone about it. I believe in signs, not to the extent that I let myself be ruled by it though, and I've found out that I have a strong intuition. The past years I have started to act on that a lot more; and if I asked all of you who have known me from "before" I'm sure you'd agree that that probably was a wise decision. So gut feeling it is, and due to various coincidences I'm know having a secret. And as I'm also very impatient at times, I have serious problems not to tell you!
I'm frightfully excited, but I think I'll have to wait a week or so to reveal it.
That was
such a wonderful
afternoon;
our first day
in Sardinia.
The hazy sky
started
where the
placid water
ended,
and the air
was
blissfully
warm.
A day to be
present.
A day to
remember.
I decided to visit Synnøve today before todays lecture; haven't seen her since our famous Champagne party. Haven't seen Toril either, but wasn't expecting to see her, now that she's moved on to working life. But guess who walked in the door? She's up for her oral exam today, hence the headline. We're all crossing our fingers for her, but I'm sure she'll be fine, despite having a nasty flue on top of it all. Go girl!
It was getting very late, and at least one of us had to be at work early in the morning. It wasn't me, but I tried to be a nice girl (maybe that was a tad too late?), and when I suddenly realized the little hand was reaching towards the first digit on the display, I thought I'd better put myself in the car and drive back home.
One of the last things he said to me before I left, half an hour later, was that I should be a clever girl and study hard the next day. "And write in your blog." That was a new one! I don't think anyone has ever told me to write before, and I usually don't need it either. Now I did actually; been having a little difficulty (again) with the form and content of the blog. Same questions, not necessarily the same answers. Why do I write? For whom? About what? What is a blog anyway?
It all started two years ago at a web design class with Dr. Jill Walker, and there we had to start a blog. Jill is one of the leading authorities on blogs (if not the leading authority) and what she doesn't know about the subject probably isn't worth mentioning. A couple of weeks ago she wrote an interesting post about it in her own blog, which triggered a lively discussion in the comments. She asked if the "novelty of blogs is wearing of", after having some trouble motivating her students to catch on to the blogging concept. I guess we're all asking ourselves the same questions about why, for whom and about what, and the problem might be that by answering those questions and defining the purpose it takes away much of the spontaneity of the writing. And writing for an audience is hard. Perhaps not if that audience is large and "invisible", in that case you'll just know that some will like it and some won't. But if you know who's reading your blog, be it your lecturer and tutor, your classmates, your mother, your friend or your lover, or "worse" - all of them, that makes it extremely challenging.
If I was smart I should probably go back to writing more academically, it's very good for the learning process to recapitulate a lecture and a chapter or two of your required reading by writing about it. In that case I should write about the lecture I went to yesterday, which by the way was absolutely wonderful. We had a guest lecturer, Sverre H. Holbye, who's an expert in universal design and "electronic accessibility", especially for the blind and visually impaired. I laughed a lot, and that is to me a good lecture. I usually remember those better, and also - they're a lot more inspiring. One thing that stood out what was he said about disability. We used to (and a lot of people still do) think about disability as a static condition of physical or mental abnormality. It's not. It's context dependent, and here's his example:
A young healthy woman is about to board the bus. With her baby in a pram. The stairs are not made for wheels, and she needs help to carry the pram on board. And therefore she is by definition disabled. Really makes you think, doesn't it?
So what about the title then? Lemon Cake? What does that have to do with anything? Well, there's someone who might have an idea, but I'll just want to add something. When I grew up we didn't have all these rich and gooey, American style, chocolate cakes like we get now. Back than it was more traditional, lighter cakes, and one of my favorites my mum used to make was this Ambrosia Cake. The name implies it's divine, and Googling it leaves you with a zillion links to different kind of scrumptious recipes, but the Swedish one is a quite simple, light, orange flavored cake, and an icing sprinkled with dried orange peels. That kind of cake I haven't baked for years, it has been more of these already mentioned American kinds. But only a few days ago, I suddenly had an urge for something lighter, fresher. I didn't act on it though, my kids still crave their Brownies, but guess what someone had bought last night? Yummy Lemon Cake, and coffee with that. I'm almost starting to feel like the princess I'm treated as, it must be true what they say about "officers and gentlemen"...
Designing computer programs and user interfaces, in general usually is about making things more efficient, while designing them for the disabled are more about making things possible.
I know it's not quite spring yet, but it's easy to be fooled by a sun shining so brightly as today. And when you hear all the kids playing outside the feeling gets even stronger.
It has been Winter break here now for the schools, and we're at the university also had a break. Well, no lectures that is, and they do call it study time which sort of implies what I've should have been doing... But I'm more than usual fed up with the reading, and today I really missed my "old life". I miss having time to sew and be creative, I miss cooking nice meals for two or for a party.
I already confessed to not be studying as hard as I should, but I did something else which was useful and also reminded me of my previous life as a housewife. (The fact that my ex husband claimed that I never was any good at it is totally beside the point.) I cleaned the floors. I worked them with my steam cleaner and a microfiber cloth, and what a nice feeling that is - clean surfaces and fresh air from outside.
Maybe that goes for my self as well? This week I got rid of some old stains and cob webs in my mind, and made (even more) room for new opportunities. Think I'm on the right track here, and that feels sooo good.
