The child in me

Some pleasures are very simple.

One of them is riding a bicycle with no hands. Sitting upright, pedalling, feeling the balance and control. "Look at me", I say, silently, subconsciously. "Look at me, I can cycle with no hands. I can even take off my jacket and ride with no hands. Look at me!".

And it feels a bit like flying.

The simplest of joys are those where you feel, not think, where you just sense, without question. Making a near-perfect breaststroke, gliding through the water. The silken feel of velvety summer air on bare skin. The smell of fall, the sound of dripping water, the sight of a perfect chestnut tree, or the stubble grazing your face when a friend kisses a cheek.

Open up. Hear, smell, taste, see, feel.
Smell the roses, walk barefoot on the grass.
Remove your hands from the handlebars and ride the bike with no hands.

Testing .... one two three....

I just changed the profile, added my country of residence.
Does that mean that the entries will have CET now, and not some bogus Central American Time? Honestly, GMT is global standard, isn't it?!
Anyway, for some reason I'd like to have the correct time on my blog, but I don't LIKE giving out information like that.
Sure, could've lied and written Denmark. Yey.
But, there it is. I'm a Norwegian living in Sweden, writing in English. Who needs schizofrenia.


{Editing post. Of course, the trick was to change the settings. Ah, well. I suppose I can live with exposing my whereabouts. }

Hair! Hair! Hair! (norwegian)

(et frivolt innlegg om personlig framtoning og uten dypere mening eller underholdningsverdi)

Opphavet ble sjokkert, den der natten i november. Avkommet, den førstefødte, ble ikke bare født med hår, men med kobberhår. Mor, kommunefarget, dog senere hennafarget, og far, mørk blond (dyrket siden fram et rustent fullskjegg i tråd med tiårets mote), kikket på hverandre og begrunnet genetikkens uransakelige veier.

Gimme a head with hair, long beautiful hair
Shining, gleaming, steaming, flaxen, waxen
Give me down to there, hair!
Shoulder length, longer (hair!)
Here baby, there mama,
Everywhere daddy daddy

Tykt var det også. Antageligvis i tråd med en teori mor hadde lest skulle barn klippes ofte for at håret skulle bli sterkt, sunt og kraftig. Den "tøffe lille gutten" lot seg ikke affisere av voksnes kjønnslige bommerter. Moten var jo lekkert kjønnsnøytralt brun, gul og oransje, men hun kledde nok best blått. Mobbing var det ikke så mye av, ikke for håret. Det finnes jo andre ting å henge seg opp i. Misforståtte sammenligninger med Pippi, Annie og (grøss o grøss) Fergie dukket opp og forsvant.

Hair! (hair, hair, hair, hair, hair, hair)
Flow it, Show it;
Long as God can grow it, My Hair!

Forresten synes de engelske pubeierne på lokalpuben at Fergie er Hot, så det var kanskje et kompliment. Alt man ikke vet.

Let it fly in the breeze and get caught in the trees
Give a home to the fleas in my hair
A home for fleas, a hive for bees
A nest for birds, there ain't no words
For the beauty, the splendor, the wonder of my
Hair! Hair! Hair! etcetera.

Det finnes forøvrig en legende i slekta, om tåke og sauer og Orknøyene og Reddet Av Trauste Vestnorske Fiskergutter, som forklarer at en (kvinne) i hver generasjon på morssiden innehar hårfargen. På et bilde i en bok fant jeg speilbildet mitt, på Shetland.

I want it long, straight, curly, fuzzy
Snaggy, shaggy, ratty, matty
Oily, greasy, fleecy, shining
Gleaming, steaming, flaxen, waxen
Knotted, polka-dotted;
Twisted, beaded, braided
Powdered, flowered, and confettied
Bangled, tangled, spangled and spaghettied!

Jepp. Etter lang tid som meget korthåret oppsto plutselig et savn etter manke. Man har da dessuten løve i ascendenten, er født i tigerens år, og selv om sånt bare er tull og fjanteri er det jo ganske moro likevel, og grunner for å le litt av manketanken. Så det vokser. Og vokser. Nå som det begynner å bli skikkelig langt kommer de klassiske (manns-)kommentarene. Ånei du må Aldri Klippe Deg (Emma tvertimot fnyser og vil nesten ta fram saksen med det samme). Visste dere forresten at damer på min alder i Norge har mye oftere kort hår enn damer på min alder i Sverige?

O-oh, Say can you see; my eyes if you can,
Then my hair's too short!
Down to here, down to there,
Down to where, down to there;
It stops by itself!
doo doo doo doo doot-doot doo doo doot

Problemet. Problemet er. Det er hår overalt. Under kontorstolen, på klærne, i dusjen, i krokene. I munnen, maten, øynene. Når det blåser, når man sykler, hår. Når det støvsuges, - eller ikke støvsuges - er 50 % av det som ikke har sin rettmessige plass på gulvene HÅR.
I det minste, så lenge det er mitt, - det er i det minste rent hår.

Don't know (poem)

Don't know why
Suddenly
my breath

vanished

or, more accurately
I had forgotten how

and consequently, my voice became that of
Donald Duck. On Helium
So I refrained from saying too much

My focus on survival anyhow

(Inhale)
Funny, that. Nerves stop you breathing
(Exhale)
And not breathing sure makes you nervous

Spam spam spam

The other day as I was pointing the mouse cursor to the "delete" button of the Bulk mail folder of one of my Yahoo! accounts, I noticed something strange. Most of the names on my spam-mail were pretty funny. Instead of deleting them I waited for more to really get a feel for them them. But they vary from the hilarious via the ethnic to the mundane. For instance, Marg Yadira delivers popular software from 15 do1lar. The ordinary Pete Mckenzie gives discount on Valium. Sorry, Pete, books and music are my drugs. And the odd glass of fine Ardbeg Islay, of course.
Perry Micha offers cheap software, and Rocco Keith offers discounts on something I don't know what is: I thought Soma was the drug from Brave New World? It's time to brush up on my Huxley. Chelsea Farah works with Perry Micha, and so does Piedad Carleen. A dad who's keen on pie?

I don't know what to make of hosea dowdell. The associations are hose and sea, possibly horse. She (?) sells frosty. Is that another name for cake icing? arron logrono offers skin line reduction, but as I'm 30 and constantly get asked for ID when buying alcohol, it seems that what I need is harder living. Oh, and then Renay Blanch has yet another offer for photoshop for 80 bucks. They sure don't talk to each other at that place.

Lorene Larry is yet another with Valium on offer, but also Xanax, Cialis and Viagra. Do you take the Valium before or after the Viagra? Jermaine Finley wants me to read about impresario 764 mastadons. Didn't catch my eye, sorry Jermaine. Now, Nevada Peggie - that's a name to be proud of. I'd need Valium if I had a name like that, don't go testing your own drugs, Peggie.
Last, but not least, Tiffaney Latarsha is into software. But I think I'm more into Lorene Larry, darling. In this day and age, with all the discrimination going on, I feel it's the least I can do to stand by the transsexual.