I'm now well into the habits of a single, working woman. Leaving home early in the morning, and not seeing the house again until late in the evening. After work there's a lot going on as well, and this week has been "crazy". Monday to Thursday all had after work activities - dinners, birthday celebrations, courses. And a super finish on Friday with a nigh out with my super buddy. Friday even became Saturday before I saw my own bed again, and the rest of that day I was pretty washed out. Can't drink that much without consequences. Of all kinds. On the other hand I'm no fan of blaming stuff on alcohol, and more importantly, didn't do anything wrong.
Today I've been a lot more "awake", and I even had a walk to the local shop for some lemon, cherry tomatoes and Greek yogurt, which I needed for the dinner. Made a whole roasted chicken with garlic and lemon, potatoes, and cherry tomatoes with basil. Very nice, and with the rest of yesterday's wine it was almost perfect.
Now we (my daughter and I) are rounding off the week watching Psycho. John Gavin and Vera Miles are just signing in to the hotel, trying to solve the mystery with Marions disappearance. And soon I'm off to bed. Hopefully get a good nights sleep that'll fix my sore neck. I'm stiff like a pole, wonder what I've been doing?
Sunday, June 20, 2010
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Total Recall
I believe I've made some progress in my life, and sometimes I'm lucky enough to get reminders of just how much. This latest one got me thinking of episodes from my teenage years.
I was sixteen and in love. As always, I might add. I realize now that I can't remember a time actually, not being in love, or looking for it in some way. Well, at sixteen it's probably more hormones than love, but the emotions are quite confusing. My self-esteem wasn't exactly high in those years, and I honestly couldn't believe anyone would miss me if I left them. So accordingly, I did. Although I could easily do some retrospective analyses of the whys and such, I'll pass for now, but I do remember one of the most embarrassing episodes. Embarrassing 'cause I quickly learned that my behavior did cause some pain, and it has stuck with me since.
It started on a Swedish summer night, at an open-air dance pavilion. Lots and lots of happy (drunken) people out in the woods, and a band playing cover versions of all the current hits. It was a very local happening, up where my cousin lived. In fact it was her turf I was roaming, and thinking of it, that might be even more of a faux pas, hitting on a boy she'd been into for a long time. My excuse though for that, and everything else that happened, was my young age. Teenagers are morons, let's face it. So, I did what I could and we had a fabulous time together for a while. To this day, nearly 30 years later, I can't point out anything specifically wrong, but I might remember some of the (unconscious) feelings. Too serious? No "new-thrill excitement"? Too predictable? Restrictions and limitations of what might be with other boys? So I broke up. But did I muster up the courage to do it face to face, or at least on the phone? No, of course I didn't. I wrote him a letter! Or more of a note as I recall it now. Short and brutal, I'm sure. Coward, that what I was. But only sixteen, and I've learned since.
Then you'd think someone with even 40 more years of life experience would do a better job, right? Remember that episode of Sex and the city where Berger broke up on a Post-It note? The lowest of low, according to most people. I googled "Post-It breakup" and found a lot of different entries discussing the theme. Like the ten worst ways of breaking up with someone, and why it's not acceptable. And there's no excuse in telling there wasn't a serious relationship to begin with, 'cause why the urge to end something if it didn't start at all?
Carrie says it well, I reckon:
Post-It, Facebook, text message, same difference...
I was sixteen and in love. As always, I might add. I realize now that I can't remember a time actually, not being in love, or looking for it in some way. Well, at sixteen it's probably more hormones than love, but the emotions are quite confusing. My self-esteem wasn't exactly high in those years, and I honestly couldn't believe anyone would miss me if I left them. So accordingly, I did. Although I could easily do some retrospective analyses of the whys and such, I'll pass for now, but I do remember one of the most embarrassing episodes. Embarrassing 'cause I quickly learned that my behavior did cause some pain, and it has stuck with me since.
It started on a Swedish summer night, at an open-air dance pavilion. Lots and lots of happy (drunken) people out in the woods, and a band playing cover versions of all the current hits. It was a very local happening, up where my cousin lived. In fact it was her turf I was roaming, and thinking of it, that might be even more of a faux pas, hitting on a boy she'd been into for a long time. My excuse though for that, and everything else that happened, was my young age. Teenagers are morons, let's face it. So, I did what I could and we had a fabulous time together for a while. To this day, nearly 30 years later, I can't point out anything specifically wrong, but I might remember some of the (unconscious) feelings. Too serious? No "new-thrill excitement"? Too predictable? Restrictions and limitations of what might be with other boys? So I broke up. But did I muster up the courage to do it face to face, or at least on the phone? No, of course I didn't. I wrote him a letter! Or more of a note as I recall it now. Short and brutal, I'm sure. Coward, that what I was. But only sixteen, and I've learned since.
Then you'd think someone with even 40 more years of life experience would do a better job, right? Remember that episode of Sex and the city where Berger broke up on a Post-It note? The lowest of low, according to most people. I googled "Post-It breakup" and found a lot of different entries discussing the theme. Like the ten worst ways of breaking up with someone, and why it's not acceptable. And there's no excuse in telling there wasn't a serious relationship to begin with, 'cause why the urge to end something if it didn't start at all?
Carrie says it well, I reckon:
Post-It, Facebook, text message, same difference...
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Shiny Thing
Might still need some work, this was assembled without any tools. I think a Dremel is on the top of my list now... I can make my own holes, at least the small ones. ;-)
Sunday, May 23, 2010
Reborn
When I first went to the University I bought myself a laptop. Put a little extra money into it and got a (at the time) powerful machine, capable of handling PhotoShop CS2, which was crucial to me. It was my trusty companion for over 4 years when it one day just died on me, leaving with the dreaded blue screen. I took it the doctor, but the prognosis was bad. No chance of revival; its heart, the hard disk, was beyond help. Nothing could be done, but for some reason I couldn't bring myself to throw it on the dump. I kept it in the cellar.
Then there was my daughter's laptop, who also said goodbye to us, but in a more physical, obvious manner. I have absolutely no idea what she did with that computer but it was sort of dismembered. That one too I kept in the house, but for no particular reason at all.
By now you'll probably see where I'm going with this. I decided to play surgeon, and perform a transplant. With no respect what so ever I went to work with the tools I had, spirited by the idea that I would run this hybrid on Linux if I succeeded to breathe life into it.
I did. But it wasn't a straight forward operation, I'll tell you that. I soon found out that the latest edition of Linux - Linux Mint 9 "Isadora" - wouldn't work, as the first try at booting resulted in an error message telling me I needed another CPU. As I wasn't planning on equipping this little baby with any purchased parts, I realized I'd rather had to find an edition that would work with the old processor. So I browsed through the options and settled for the previous Long term support release, which meant Linux Mint 5 "Elyssa". I must stress that I actually don't know what I'm doing, but with a lucky combination of educated guesses and inspired intuition I've now got a functioning laptop. Still have a lot to do though. Like learn not to think Windows. I'm a Linux-newbie, and I owe this to all the dedicated people who are making this possible. I've written about them before, in essays at the Uni, and I have the greatest respect for all of them. And when I get my first pay-check I'll even make a donation.
Have a feeling I'm always semi, bordering on something complete. I'm almost grown up now, but still childish. I have a degree, but could have gone further. I play with technology and feel at home with geeky slang and humor, but wouldn't stand a chance at MIT. I write a lot, but I'm not a writer. I could go on here, but I won't.
But maybe a whole lot of semis make a whole world in the end, and maybe complete is the total of everything, not the completion of a single thing. In that case, maybe I'm ultra complete... My next plan is to harvest the computer's intestines and make jewelery out of it. Have you ever seen a shinier thing than the actual disk in a hard drive? I'll show you next week.
You can't tell, but this post is written on my Reborn, the Resurrected one.
Then there was my daughter's laptop, who also said goodbye to us, but in a more physical, obvious manner. I have absolutely no idea what she did with that computer but it was sort of dismembered. That one too I kept in the house, but for no particular reason at all.
By now you'll probably see where I'm going with this. I decided to play surgeon, and perform a transplant. With no respect what so ever I went to work with the tools I had, spirited by the idea that I would run this hybrid on Linux if I succeeded to breathe life into it.
I did. But it wasn't a straight forward operation, I'll tell you that. I soon found out that the latest edition of Linux - Linux Mint 9 "Isadora" - wouldn't work, as the first try at booting resulted in an error message telling me I needed another CPU. As I wasn't planning on equipping this little baby with any purchased parts, I realized I'd rather had to find an edition that would work with the old processor. So I browsed through the options and settled for the previous Long term support release, which meant Linux Mint 5 "Elyssa". I must stress that I actually don't know what I'm doing, but with a lucky combination of educated guesses and inspired intuition I've now got a functioning laptop. Still have a lot to do though. Like learn not to think Windows. I'm a Linux-newbie, and I owe this to all the dedicated people who are making this possible. I've written about them before, in essays at the Uni, and I have the greatest respect for all of them. And when I get my first pay-check I'll even make a donation.
Have a feeling I'm always semi, bordering on something complete. I'm almost grown up now, but still childish. I have a degree, but could have gone further. I play with technology and feel at home with geeky slang and humor, but wouldn't stand a chance at MIT. I write a lot, but I'm not a writer. I could go on here, but I won't.
But maybe a whole lot of semis make a whole world in the end, and maybe complete is the total of everything, not the completion of a single thing. In that case, maybe I'm ultra complete... My next plan is to harvest the computer's intestines and make jewelery out of it. Have you ever seen a shinier thing than the actual disk in a hard drive? I'll show you next week.
You can't tell, but this post is written on my Reborn, the Resurrected one.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
Temporary Appearance
Didn't think I'd ever be interested in houses and interior decoration again, but out of the blue the urge sort of came back. Not that building a house is a current undertaking, but if/when, this might be just the one I'd like to move in to - a stylish barnhouse from Northern Sweden.
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