Sunday, June 25, 2006

If only tonight we could sleep

Seriously kids, you have nooo idea how tired I am right now. I spent yesterday cleaning, sewing, ironing and knitting - ie. just being as hausfrau-ish as possible and also at some kind of work all day. Most of it because today, I'm leaving for Roskilde. I have what right now seems like a f***ing stupid deal to hook up with a friend at 6.45 AM so we can get tere early-ish and won't have to live at the new Camping South. It's near a town called Snoldelev for crying out loud - how depressing is that? If Camping East is Copenhagen, Camping West is Jutland (the wrong side of the bridge) then what does that make Camping South? F***ing Belarus or something.
But anyway, I thought that seeing as I'd been up and about all of yesterday, sleep would be no problem. Not so. I've tossed and turned, been on my back, my stomach, my side, part-stomach/part-side, diagonal, starshaped, fetal position - nothing! If you see me at Roskilde today, I'll probably be the girl who's barely managed to get up her tent only to fall asleep drooling on a patch of grass.
I had something semi-chipper to say about you people not breaking anything while I'm gone and not drinking my gin, but f*** it, do what you please as long as you don't wake me up when I manage to fall asleep! See you there.

Thursday, June 22, 2006

The past will catch you up as you run faster

Before I first started listening to proper music, I was mostly into dance-compilations, my mother's Bryan Adams-records and Take That. I must admit that I've redeveloped a soft spot for TT again - the Relight my Fire-video has a lot to answer for, if it hadn't been for Mark Owen's cropped black T-shirt (that says what? "Junkie's Baddy Powder"?), I doubt that I would ever have developed my weakness for skinny boys with their hair hanging down their eyes. Also, Howard Donald in a sailor's sweater and suspender belt-chaps?! He's like half of Village People cloned to be one person!
Anyway, that wasn't where I was going at all. When I started listening to decent music, it was usually with a friend whose older sister had a lot of good records. The two of them used to share a room which, after an extension was built to their house, became their parents' bedroom. Before they moved out of the room, though, their parents made the mistake of letting them write and draw on the walls, because, hey, they were going to paint it anyway. Alas, it took them quite a while to get round to the paint job, so the last time I visited their house, the walls were still bore legends like "Guns'n'Roses sucks!", "Be a hero, be a man, kill a Take That-fan" and the blur-logo. When we were at my place, we'd mostly listen to Hole and Psyched Up Janis, at her place Radiohead and blur (we were both firmly on the blur-side in the Oasis/blur-debacle, her, because she was actually a fan and while I wasn't at the time, I just couldn't stand Wonderwall - I thought the "quoasis"-T-shirt was kinda funny, though) and interchangeably Nirvana and Björk.
Another thing we'd listen to at her place (but not that often) was Whale, whom I had completely forgotten until the other day, when I found their first record, We Care. I used to love Hobo Humpin' Slobo Babe and thought Cia Soro, the singer, looked so cool in the video and now that I revisit them, I actually think We Care is a pretty good album - you gotta love a song called Young Dumb N' Full of Cum!

And now that we're talking music videos anyway - Pitchfork has just made a list of 100 Awesome Music Videos (via Frekvens) and while there is a lot of good things on the list, there is also a glaring error on page 10. I mean, sure, My Doorbell is a good and funny video (I can't actually think of a bad White Stripes-video), but everyone knows that the best WS-video is I Just Don't Know What To Do With Myself. It's directed by Sofia Coppola! It has Kate Moss in it! In her underwear! Poledancing! Surely, it's about the dirtiest music video ever made. Some of the early Manics-videos could have been up there as well, like Love's Sweet Exile, if it had consisted only of Nicky and Richey making out, or You Love Us, which is all finger-sucking and popsicle-licking and the clip with the little TV down Richey's pants - surely the best use of A-bomb footage ever!

Oh well, if you haven't already left, do so now by checking out Death by Kite. Not the best of band names, but Hiroshima and Bahnhof Asta are just really good!

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

Riboflavin-flavored, non-carbonated, poly-unsaturated blood

I met a school friend, whom I haven't seen for quite some time, this Monday and we hung out for a while, ate I can't believe it's Yoghurt! and talked about a lot of things, among others whether my neighbourhood was getting nicer after it's been undergoing a lot of urban renewal projects in the last years. And I said, yeah, I think it's getting better, even if it is sometimes like a little piece of Jutland where you can always find a parking space, all the cars have trailer couplings and every store closes at 22 so it's damn near impossible to get drunk unless you're willing to hang out at the local grotty pub with their Lars Lilholt-records, stench of pee and Frem-flags.
However, I'm kinda doubting how much better it has turned, when just a couple of minutes ago, this girl ran out the frontdoor, screaming at the windows of the old guy downstairs; "I'm not gonna stand for this! You disgusting old bastard! I'm turning you in for rape, you filthy old pig!! Turning you in for rape, do you hear me?!". Oh well... I'm sort of doubting that he did hear her - or rape her for that matter - seeing as he's about a gazillion years old, can only walk at the speed of a turtle when he's holding on to something and I've stopped counting the times I thought he was dead when an ambulance has come for him with paramedics ringing his doorbell for half an hour.

Also, on a completely different note, like I said, I haven't seen my friend from Monday for a long time and now she's 8 months pregnant and set to give birth to an ickle girl the 26th next month (saw pictures of her 3D ultrasound; what came out of my mouth was fortunately: "Aww, that's nice", but what I was thinking was: "F***ing hell! It looks like something from The Exorcist!". Oh well, I'm sure she'll grow prettier, at least her mother did) and a couple of hours ago I got a text from another friend, saying "Wedding the 29th of July. More info coming soon". Now I feel very much behind - chill, you people!

Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Why can't you be more cynical?

As I went down to local Irma to get today's batch of strawberries (got there late yesterday and there were only Belgian ones left), I couldn't help but notice this sign at the hardware store across the street. I have no clue what it is, but 25% off on the original problem solver seems like a good deal to me.
But right now, I'll settle for taking my problems to you, in this case literary.
As you might know, I'm going to Angola next month and what I need is 1 or 2, maximum 3 (4, if two of them are skinny) books to keep me amused through 17 days (although obviously I'll be doing other stuff as well) and two 12-hour plane trips. I'm a very fast reader so nothing too light, although nothing too heavy either, I have both The Iliad and The Odyssey, neither of which I've actually read through cover to cover, but I just know that I'll get bored with them when I constantly have to look up who's son of who and how you can tell by their patronyms, etc. etc.
I don't have a very girly taste in books, I tried the Brontës, but we never got along and if you go to the other end of the scale, I own Bridget Jones' Diary, but wasn't amused except for the on time where she lists her calorie-intake, weight and number of cigarettes smoked, which in this case was "22, all of them post-coital" (was that in a day? I forget, but if it was, it must either have been rather measly performances or remarkably fast restitution - I've never met a guy who wouldn't need at least a weekend to get through 22 p.c. fags (poor pun intended)).
I read High Fidelity at least once a year, but that one is out of the question as it would only last half a plane trip. I loved On the Road, but never got into Burroughs, I like Camus' fiction, but have been reading The Rebel since 1998 and am still 100 pages short.
I don't seem to be able to become friends with poetry, I didn't think American Psycho was as graphic as the hype made it out to be, I've loved Generation X since I was 13, I've read all the Harry Potter-books and Lord of the Rings (liked HP better) and I think it's sort of depressing that JT LeRoy isn't an actual person.
So, any suggestions?

Sunday, June 18, 2006

Everyone seems to know the score

I must say that it's a lot easier to appreciate the World Cup now that Denmark didn't qualify and we're all happily rid of morons in national jerseys, flags and stupid hats with their watered down beers and ridiculous chants.
Brazil-Australia is on in the background and I've just been wondering whether appreciating football is a bit like learning a language? I mean, in both cases there are things that are obvious and basic enough, like the scoring of goals, the theoretical use of yellow/red cards and, well, basic grammar like conjugation of regular verbs, where the adverbs go in a sentence, etc.
Then there are things that are a bit more tricky, the classic example being the offside rule, which, by now, I understand and I can even sort of appreciate why it's there, but when it's used in practice, it always manages to catch me by surprise. All in all, exactly the same way I felt about the subjunctive mood when I was learning French.
But even if you get the basic and slightly more tricky stuff when you're learning French, you'd still have a hard time watching an entire movie without subtitles. And that's pretty much the same with football. I mean, I can see why De Rossi was sent off yesterday, but all the filler stuff, the things between goals, send-offs and missed chances, you know, all the passes and the different ways of playing, it just goes right over my head. In Danish, you can say "han går igen" and "han går igen" and in a slight shift of pronunciation, the sentence means either "he leaves again" or "he haunts" and I should imagine it would be pretty hard to tell for someone learning Danish. Similarly, during a match you have the commentators going "Ooer, they're really attacking much more after scoring a goal", "They're really looking tired now, pushing backwards", "That defense is so strong, look at the way they stand", etc., and every time they say something like that I find myself thinking: "What are you on about, they're running around no different from what they did five minutes ago?". So seriously people, how do you f***ing tell?!

Friday, June 16, 2006

It's always better on holiday, so much better on holiday!

Right, a rather picture heavy post coming up. Just got back from my mother's yesterday and while usually, when I'm back home in Sønderborg aka Shitsville, I just piss about being really bored, I actually had a really good time. I was at the beach and went swimming and it was pretty great and not too cold at all, I had crazy excellent asparagus from a farm just a couple of kilometres from where my mother lives and bought my favourite scrubbing stuff from Origins at more than 50% off, which is always nice.

I had Nesquick cereal for breakfast every day and thought it was hilarious that the little present inside the package was one of 6 "crazy body parts". And if you're Danish and easily amused, like me, you'll also find it funny that crazy body parts in Swedish are "knäppa kropsdelar". Dirty.




I bonded with the kitty. Actually, my mother has two cats, a grey fluffy one that sheds its hair f***ing everywhere, never purrs and in general is just really boring and then this girl who's actually not my mother's, but my dad's girlfriend's, very cute, very fat and very keen on my yarn.




I baked my sister's birthday cake. An if you're in doubt, they're supposed to be carrots, not fingers. And, yes, it was rather good, if I do say so myself.






We invited Slash and he was really excited about the board game we gave him and said "Ooer, I wanted this even more than a new Les Paul."






And then I just generally hung out, knitted (nearly there on Matilda Jane, just need to find buttons and ribbons), read (House of Leaves and my mother's glossies) and went to see where my brother moved in with his girlfriend.
Anyway, Roskilde Festival is coming up and until then I think I'll experiment with what happens if you live off club sandwiches and strawberries & cream for a week. Yay!

Thursday, June 01, 2006

Ooh, yummy! Yarn!

Right, it's back to normal service here. I don't know who the batty lady looking forward to Champions League final was, but I can assure you she's not coming back anytime soon! That is of course unless the current land of my father, Angola, makes it anywhere in the forthcoming World Cup (the thing starts on my dad's birthday so maybe that's a sign for me to gamble some money - the odds on Angola winning the thing is 1:600!). I love the fact that one of their players is called Loco and another is called Love - and they all look like a bunch of mean f***ers dressed in a Syndicalist flag!
Anyway, what I'm actually excited about is this:
Mmm, yarn! Soft, soft Rowan Wool Cotton. Mmmm! It's for my Matilda Jane cardigan and I must say that I'm pretty chuffed with the place I bought the yarn. When I bought the yarn for my Arisaig, I went for Angel Yarns and it took something like 6 or 8 weeks for it all to get here. I don't think it was entirely their fault, but it was still annoying as hell so this time I went with English Yarns instead. Ordered on Monday and the postman just handed it over. I like those people - and the postal service!

Also, I just bought the København Con Amore book. It's pretty good and you should definitely check it out even if it is missing the railway tracks seen from Dybbølsbro (it's best at night) and the excellent stencil that until 2 or 3 years ago was on a pillar at the station at Jyllingevej and said "USA UD AF VIETNAM" (USA out of Vietnam). I went there to take a picture of it yesterday and alas, it had been painted over, but I remember standing with a friend and wondering whether someone came and repainted it every couple of years since it was still there. This is the same friend whose favourite toilet grafitti should also be published somewhere although it's not too surprising that it isn't in Con Amore seeing as both it's authors are men and the grafitti is in the girls' room at Floss;
So you finally made it to the ladies', Darren. Well, you always did like to take it up the...

That's it, better start swatching!