On movies you probably don't know but definitely should see - Night Nurse

So yesterday's post was kinda... grim, I guess. I've had a bit of a rough week. Anywho, it's no biggie, I'm not having a relapse or anything, so no worries. I've just had a long, tiring week, and I've been kinda out of sorts lately. I'm heading to my parents this afternoon to help them with yard work. I think quitting Stockholm and getting on with some menial labour will be just the thing. Until then, I thought I'd leave you with a movie to watch for your Friday night, seeing as it's been quite a while since my last one of these.

On body image

Today one of my favourite Swedish designers needed a size 38 model to try stuff on. Having size 36/38 in like everything I ever wear, I figured I'd give it a try and emailed him my measurements. Turns out the measurements were completely off, and that both my boobs and hips should've been smaller (by like, inches). My waist and length were fine, but apparently I've got too much 'junk in the trunk' or whatever. And really, it's fine that I wasn't picked (although a little embarrassed, because hey, I didn't want to be the girl who sent her measurements to a designer and was told no for being too big, even though he didn't use any such words), although I'm stuck wondering what the hell a size 38 is supposed to be. If size 38 in the store fits, am I not a size 38? It's shit like this that makes people think they're too large. No wonder weird eating habits are on the rise.

On cards and credit

I totally love the apartment Hemingway's staying at at the moment, but it doesn't have internet connection, and that seriously cramps my style. I'm not entirely sure I'd leave at all otherwise. It makes me a terrible blogger, and my silent friends, I'm sorry. I'll try to get my act together, I promise.

I had to head in to Fridhemsplan today to pick up a dress that my mom had reserved at a store, only to find that my untrustworthy bank card had suddenly up and died on my completely. Always awkward. Time to order a new one. I hate standing at the counter, feeling like an idiot. It's like if you go to the store, decide not to buy anything, and then have to leave.

So anywho, in order to get some internet I'm now hanging out at the library here. I wasn't sure I was going to be able to use it, because I have some loan debts (curse you thesis essay!), so I decided to test it before taking a trip to the bathroom, which of course proved to be a near-fatal error. Now I'm stuck having to pee really badly with a laptop on my lap. Then again, I was just complimented by an old man for having such a 'nice-looking, convenient computer'. Aww. I love old people.

I had something longer planned for you guys today, but ice cream in the park calls my name. This getting acts together business seems doomed to failure. Hope you'll stick with me anyways!

On life and hearts

Yesterday, when we met in the subway to go play pool together, Hemingway greeted me with the news that he's going back to Hong Kong again for a month. Obviously this sucks (and it totally threw me off my game), and while I was unhappy and upset, of course it's only natural that he goes. I mean, his family lives there and everything, I'd be surprised if he chose to spend his vacations elsewhere. Still, doesn't stop me from moping, so moping shall commence. Until then, I decided that the best course of action would be to hang out with my sister Hannibal and her sons, taking them to the Police Museum and walking in the sweltering sun.

On personalities and hobos

The brain testing people got back in touch with me and asked me to fill out a kind of 'personality quiz' to go with the experiment. I love love love stuff like this, I can sit and fill out personality quizzes online forever. So much fun! This one was a pretty standard one, filled with various statements that you'd rank according to how well they corresponded with your personality (reminding me a bit of the Myers-Briggs test). Some questions were just completely ridiculous though.

On Greece and family vacations

Pony, G and I decided to go on a family vacation, possibly the only one we'll have time for before Japan happens. My parents own a house in a tiny mountain village, and after the pretty shitty spring we'd all had, a relaxing vacation was what we needed. The place is a nice hideaway from the world, like you have your home problems at home and you can just peacefully exist among the beautiful fields and pine groves. Sitting in the sun eating watermelon, there's not much I miss, apart from Hemingway that is.

Home sweet home.

On family reunions and religious ramblings

I know I said I was going to sew a dress in four hours, but seeing how I passed out from being completely exhausted yesterday at midsummer's eve, the number one party weekend for swedes everywhere, at the tender time of 10 pm after having a nice yet uneventful night in at Sand's, I didn't much see the point of getting up early to sew something. Never fear though, I'll do it later this week and allow myself a little bit more time to do it too.

Today was spent with Hemingway and my family celebrating the baptism of my nephew, a baby I lovingly call Baby Bighead. My dad, being a minister, was in charge of the baptism, and me, being an atheist, sat in skeptical silence as always when it comes to church stuff. Generally I can live through a service without too much whining, but at one point in the sermon my dad was describing what it might be like for people when Christianity came for the first time by going "wow, how awesome to find a religion that allows me to just be who I am!" Sure dad, as long as you're not gay, or heaven forbid a woman who likes sex, wear clothes made with mixed material fabrics, or ever feel like eating shellfish. If there's one thing religion just doesn't do, it's accept people for who they are. That's like the basis of all religion - impose rules on other people to make them more to your liking and easier to control.

Pictured: Religion.

On being happy to be home

Hey there silent readers! I'm back from my adventures in Greece now, and will be back to posting as usual shortly. Right now I landed in celebrating midsummer with Sand, trying to sew a dress in four or five hours, and getting stuff for my nephew's baptism tomorrow, so you'll have to excuse me for not telling you all about my trip straight away. We had fun anyway, that's a given, but it's good to be home too.

Home sweet home.

Tomorrow I'll be back on the wagon again, promise. Until then, ciao.

On beauty

I was loitering around on the internet a while back, when I found this video of a restaurant in Brazil that decided to do something special for International Women's Day.



It's a kind thought. It's a nice idea. But Christ people, can we lay off the over-praising of superficial qualities?

On why I love magazines I can't read

If any of you silent readers aren't into fashion, then I'm sure you've never understood the point of magazines like Vogue, and especially the Vogue magazines in different languages. Remember that bit from Death proof when they're all gushing over Italian Vogue?  

Abernathy: Listen to this, the Circle A clerk has this month's issue of Italian Vogue.  
Lee: No way!  
Abernathy: Way.
Lee: I can't believe fucking Circle A carries Italian Vogue.  
Abernathy: It doesn't. It's his own personal copy. He'll let it go for 27 bucks.  
Lee: [scoffs] 27 bucks?  
Abernathy: What the fuck do you care? We're talking about fucking per diem here. We found an issue of Italian Vogue in Lebanon, Tennessee. We're lucky he's not asking for fuckin' Krugerrands.

What could possibly be so special about Italian Vogue you wonder. Hell, I buy it occasionally too (even though it's massively expensive here in Sweden), and I don't know a word of Italian. The answer is simple - the pictures are absolutely stunning.

Vogue Italia, 'A Lady in Spring', Spring 2012

On irresponsibility and vacations

Living with Hemingway really has its perks. Good food, fun times, lately being introduced to a really good anime (Shingeki no Kyojin, I haven't been this excited about an anime in ages) and lots of cuddles, but finding anything after he's been cleaning is nigh on impossible. I've lost the experiment money again. Time to go through my room properly. Ugh. Don't trust me with money, people. I'm hysterically irresponsible.

Speaking of hysterically irresponsible, I just found the bank note for the money. In the trash can. Seriously brain, why can't you differentiate between money and bills?

Representation of current mental capacities.

On pork-induced stomach aches and avoiding people

Last night was spent at O's apartment for one of his typical apartment parties - 80% architects, 20% other designer people/artists, a large group of gays. As always it was fun, although probably not so much for Hemingway, since people didn't speak all that much English and mostly talked about insider stuff. I feel bad in situations like that, and I want to check up on him and make sure he's having fun too, but you can only do so much I guess. I asked him if he was terribly bored and he said no, so that's good at least. After a while we all debated going to a gay bar, but the line was long and the entrance fee expensive, so we gave up on it and went to Debaser instead, where we danced to some questionable music and generally had a good time. Probably mixed a bit too many different types of alcohol though, because even though I didn't drink that much I woke up feeling spectacularly queasy.

On summer picnics and lazy times

I never really thought I'd become part of one of those lovey-dovey couples I love to hate so much, yet I find myself more and more acting just like that. The amounts of 'aww' one could get out of my relationship with Hemingway is pretty staggering. It's a nice feeling though, while at the same time a small rational voice in my brain is going "Oh my god, you guys". Well shut up, small rational voice, I'm having a good time.

On killing wedding guests and checking out apartments

Third nightmare about school in as many nights. Maybe this means that I'm finally letting go of some of that tension.

After another stop at the Asian super market, Hemingway and I went to meet up with a friend of his to check out the apartment that Hemingway will be staying at.

Because these places are magical and I need to try everything at least once. Not jellyfish though, they're scary.

Pony and G even cleared out another shelf for us in the fridge, since "You actually like... eat now, and have groceries home, so you need the space." Not that I didn't eat before or anything, but food isn't a huge priority in my life. I can eat the same thing over and over without getting bored, and I generally eat pretty fast because life has a lot more to offer than that. Also, cooking for one person is boring.

On awkward questions and being painfully shy

Today Hemingway took me to his friend's birthday party way out in the suburbs. Not gonna lie, at the beginning I found it... pretty terrifying.

I'm pretty socially awkward. I'm shy, I never really know what to say, and I don't take well to large crowds. I never really know where to begin, so I end up just not beginning. Hell, my friends have nicknamed me Sheldon, so I guess I should stop being surprised at my own inability. Throwing me into a party of 25 unknown people is a bit like throwing someone who can't swim too well off the deep end of a pool - you cling to whatever is there with you, which in this case meant that I was Hemingway's shadow for most of the day. Sure, it gets better eventually, and I did manage to talk to a few people who were all very nice, but it was nice to be home afterwards, munching on fried rice and watching The Hunger Games on my couch. If they would have that part in a movie, I'd appear in the credits as Shy Girlfriend, somewhere along the end near the costume designers and assistants for all the famous people.

...yeah, that's pretty much me.

On weird foods and Tony Stark having feelings

Hemingway and I went to the movies today, after a lazy morning of noodle breakfast and shopping at Asian food stores. I love Asian food stores, these places are magical.

I mean, how can you NOT want to try something called Bang Bang chicken?

So many things I didn't even know were edible. It's pretty cool to be able to go into a place and be able to ask for things like jellyfish head, barbeque pig ears, chicken feet or duck necks. The smells remind me so much of China Town in Toronto. We used to go there every now and again when I was a kid, and I always remember the smells in particular. There were street markets with live seafood and just so much things that were pretty damn awesome for a five-year-old to wander around staring at. I would always have wonton soup (which Hemingway and I made the other day), which I'd nicknamed 'brain soup', being a creepy little bastard, and before we went home mom would always get me koala cookies, because a trip to China Town wasn't a trip to China Town without koala cookies.

Happiness in animal shape.

On brain scans and clan mentality

The very cute and rather stiff doctor from the sleep deprivation study contacted me today to ask if I wanted a picture of my brain, by sending me an email (subject line was "Picture of brain?") going: "Hi, we really appreciate you taking part in our MRI experiment. Would you like a pdf with a cross section of your brain?". The nerd in me riots with happiness. Obviously I should've answered his email with a subject line of "Picture of brain!", but I was too eager to get my hands on, well, my head to think of it before hitting the send button. I mean, who wouldn't want a picture of their brain? It's so creepy-cool.