a little break!

Sometimes you just need a day where you sleep until noon, stay in your pyjamas all afternoon, read your new favourite book and watch bad tv. Not because you're sick, feel physically bad or hungover, but just because you need a break from the world around you and the everyday chaos and demands.

You can't change people around you but you can give yourself space and time to try to understand these people and their actions and by that understand your own feelings and actions.

What a fool indeed!

"I had a long talk with my ex girlfriend and we are trying to work things out. I hope we can still be friends, and maybe have a beer together at the pub. Don't be angry at me."

And then I'm the bad one in this silly game in which I do not know the rules, because I said I wasn't sure I could have that beer with him and maybe I was a little bit angry? What a big joke that is! Just like that I am supposed to not feel anything anymore? I am allowed to feel whatever I want, so don't come hear and tell me differently just to ease your bad conscience.

It is all a game and I have been dealt the wrong cards - only hearts when it should have been clubs and spades!

No regrets!

So I am where I never thought I would be again! Feeling light headed but no cigarettes to blame because I quite those years ago, butterflies in my stomach but not because of weird adrenaline rush from putting my life at risk in a bungy or anything like that and dreaming new hopefull dreams.

I realised that if I wanna live a life with no regrets I need to do things I think I might regret instead of not doing anything at all... because I know I will surely regret that. I am thankful for being a fool and having the courage to once again letting myself feel what I feel.

Looking back at life and where it has taken me the last four years I still have no regrets. I know that life will treat me hard again but hopefully I will still have the strenght to take the beatings from life.

For fools rush in where angels fear to tread

To once have lost and still have the courage to hope again and let yourself feel what you thought was impossible to feel again takes either a fool or great inner strenght. Pretty sure I'm the first but hoping I have a bit of the last too.

Winter

The ground is covered in soft foamy snow and the air is white and cold. From my window I see lights in the other houses and in my mind I imagine them gathering around their tables for breakfast or their kids in pyjamas in front of the tv watching cartoons. The warm and bitter scent of coffee and freshly made bread fills the air in every home. It is quiet outside like a big duvet has been lowered over the world and I feel warm and safe here in the place I call home.

Changes!

Holding on to old tickets and travel schedules, parfume and a green Marvel t-shirt, burned dvd's with rugby games and a death certificate doesn't make any sense any longer.

It did for a long time and it was hard to get rid of it. But now it is time, though still taking small steps. Changing the pictures on the wall, but still saving them in my memorychest, acknowledging that it is part of my life and always will be but it is time to store it under the past.

It no longer defines me and where I am in my life. It is part of me and has shaped me just like all the other stories I've experienced in my life - good and bad. But now it is time to make room for new twists and turns down the road and keep the memory of a man as a beautiful souvenir!

Falling once more!

Oh welcome back sweet tingling feeling. How I missed you! That first kiss that makes all the other future kisses fade by the memory and makes all the butterflies go crazy in your body! How wonderful to be losing sense of time and just getting lost from the world outside. Doesn't matter if you stay awake until four in the morning because tomorrow doesn't exist. And even if it does, you will stay awake on that ecstatic feeling from the endorfines.

A beautiful goodbye!

He was buried a saturday in February. A warm summer day in New Zealand. A cold winter day back home in Denmark. He was buried on the top of his family's cemetery in the valley surrounded by the beautiful mountains, the sea still rushing from afar. It was a hot day, which started with a quiet trickling rain, that covered the valley and our already tear stricken faces as a humid veil. But when he was carried in his coffin up to his final resting place, the rain had stopped and the sun burned its way into our skin and left us marked. When we lowered him down, everything was quiet before a strong wind dried the tears away and gave new air to our tired minds and bodies. He was gone. Everything powerful and strong and physical that was him was now gone. It was laid in the ground. We were left vulnerable and abandoned as individuals who each had lost a little of themselves when he left our world with all the stories, all the un-said, all the un-dones and with all our feelings plastered on the outer layer for the world to see, that we all had lost something beautiful.

To be trouble(d)

Why is it that I always get myself into trouble?! Well not real trouble, were somebody gets hurt or anything, just enough trouble to hurt myself...in the way that my head is about to explode because if all the thoughts I have or because of the moral hangovers I get. I have been hungover a handful of times, but there isn't enough toes og fingers to count the times with the moral hangovers. Do I think too much, do I judge too much or do I really get myselv into real trouble? Or am I trouble? I have been told one or twice that I am... but who can believe the troubled ones?

our song!

The one song that will always remind me of him!

Maybe different but remember winters warm there you and I.
Kissing whiskey by the fire with the snow outside.
And when the summer comes
In the river swim at midnight (shiver, cold) touch the bottom
(stars are bright) with muddy toes

Stay or leave--I want you not to go,
But you should.
It was good, as good goes.
Stay or leave--I want you not to go.
But you did.

Wake up naked, drinking coffee, making plans to change the world
While the world is changing us.
It was good, good love.
And you used to laugh under the covers,
Maybe not so often now
The way I used to laugh with you was loud and hard.

Stay or leave—I want you not to go,
But you should.
It was good, as good goes.
Stay or leave—I want you not to go.
But you did.

So what to do with the rest of the days' afternoon haze?
Well isn't it strange how it changes everything we did?
Did I do all that I should—that I could have done?

Remember we used to dance and everyone wanted to be you and me? I want to be too.
What day is this, besides the day you left me?
What day is this, besides the day you went?
So what to do with the rest of the days' afternoon haze?
Well isn't it strange how it changes everything we did?
Did I do all that I could?

Remember we used to dance and everyone wanted to be you and me? I want to be too.
What day is this, besides the day you left me?
What day is this?

Dave Matthews: Stay or  Leave

Life's little adventures!

Sunday started out pretty nice getting a few dates on for the next week, a couple of thoughts scribbled down on my blog and then off on my bike ride around the lake  with a great friend. Started out a bit misty and cold but turned out to be a damn good day in the beautiful warm autumn sun meeting runners, bikers, rollerskaters, old people and a pirate! Oh I just love when life surprises me with all the good and simple things!

 The pirate with his 50 year old  parrot!

Ane enjoying the autumn sun

Things I like

easy pin up hair-do for the everyday or fab parties!

music that makes me happy
Plain White Ts  
Andrew Sisters
Paolo Nutini coming up easy and candy

 Who wouldn't give him some candy?

Blue autumn sky!

Beautiful beautiful saturday. This is how a perfect autumn saturday should be like. A warm sun blazing down on my face from a clear blue sky, excellent coffee and good company with a great friend. Talking about all the things that matters in our lifes and not in everyone elses lifes. Is it getting older that makes you appreciate it more or is it just the fact that with more life experience you know what to appreciate?

The people we loose

This morning I started thinking about all the people I know or maybe once knew. The people where I still remember their faces and still remember the last conversation I had with them. And I wondered how it is possible to have gone through such a short life, meeting so many different wonderful, crazy, interesting people who all have had a great influence on me and then just see them all disappear again. There are those that I for obvious reason will never see again, like the dragon cave guide in Greymouth whose laughter and positive attitude towards life really impressed me or Mr. Ben the backpacker that wanted to teach orphans in India and whose imagination was so great he could turn a boring story about chicken pox into a story about a street fight in Rio.
There are the people that lives so far away that the natural distance makes it harder to keep in touch even though we try through all the communication channels that exists. Our lives can not be shown or told via Skype, FB, email, twitter, blogger or whatever so that the receiver will fully understand what is going on in our lives. The cold winds and heavy rains that influence our lives and moods in the autumn will not affect the people who are enjoying spring time and the beginning of new life on the other side of the planet. And we will have forgotten what it was like when summer hits us here on this side and they are freezing in the winter cold down there. Distance is one thing that separate us, but it can also be men, jobs, children, family, human values or politics. We disagree or we live different lives that just doesn't coincide. That doesn't mean that I don't miss those people, I just somehow lost them.

And then there are the people that we were so close with that we thought that nothing would ever separate us. No distance, no men, no children, no disagrements nor anything. And yet they are no longer part of my life.
So slowly people distance themselves from the people the once knew because it is to much work to keep the contact. They become the people we loose that are not lost but can be found. And yet maybe we choose not to!

me and my ghosts!

I have my own personal ghosts. They are not unfriendly or spooky, they mean me no harm and often I have forgotten all about them until the next time they appear. One of them shows up in my dreams where it tries to organize all the impressions and thoughts I have had during the day, the last week, the last year or the last decade. Sometimes the ghost makes the dreams so real that just the second after I wake up I'm not sure what is real and what is a dream. This has often happened if the little ghost has told me that my trunk has turned into a giant monster or the clothes on the racks is mega bats, and I am trying to convince myself that it is not. Imagine if people told you that the color blue really was green and you had to convince your brain of that even though what you kept seeing was blue. Or if people told you that there is no harm in putting your arm into the lions cage with lion inside eating another man's arm...how hard would it be for you to believe it let alone to put your arm into that cage? My little ghost is very good at making me believe but I am still stronger and it is a good thing that I know I still wake up again when daylights hits the bedroom. As long as the ghost don't make me go wandering in my sleep in the streets naked, and stay to my flat sleep-re-decorating I'll be alright... I think.

I have another ghost that also visits me at night. This one turns on the tap in the bathroom or leave the fridge door open after its midnight snack, which is raw egg yolk without cracking the shells and leaving only the whites inside it. Or maybe that is ghost eggs?

Not all my ghosts visit me at night.....

One last goodbye by Anathema

How I needed you
How I grieve now you're gone
In my dreams I see you
I awake so alone

I know you didn't want to leave
Your heart yearned to stay
But the strength I always loved in you
Finally gave way

Somehow I knew you would leave me this way
Somehow I knew you could never, never stay
And in the early morning light
After a silent peaceful night
You took my heart away
And my being

In my dreams I can see you
I can tell you how I feel
In my dreams I can hold you
And it feels so real

I still feel the pain
I still feel your love
I still feel the pain
I still feel your love

And somehow I knew you could never, never stay
And somehow I knew you would leave me
And in the early morning light
After a silent peaceful night
You took my heart away

Oh I wish, I wish you could have stayed

Childhood memories

My childhood still stands as a very clear picture to me and I often find myself remembering, if I sense the smell of freshly cut grass maybe. Freshly cut grass reminds me of my father in the garden a warm summer evening and he is in his work clothes and with day-old stubbles. I myself am 8 years old and just put to bed. But who can sleep after a long wonderful summer day where the only limitations we experience is lack of imagination. Who can sleep when the sound of the lawnmower bussing at 5 minute intervals past your window and all you want to do, is to jump out of bed and run out onto the newly cut grass with bare feet and feel the evening dew lying on the grass. And then I do, and my excuse to my mother is that I have not said goodnight to my father. I clearly remember her face when she looks at my feet and I run away in bare feet instead of putting on my sandals. Now she's finally got me clean from top to toe; you can't go to bed with your feet dirty. But I do not care and feel perhaps a slight rebelious, when I run through the grass. Who cares about having complete clean feet, when it is summer? They'll get just as dirty again the next day.I run through the grass and feel the soft ground beneath my feet. It is quite cold, even though the sun has baked all day. At the back of the garden, I can see that my father has put out the sprinklers to water the veggies. Oh, who, however, just might be allowed to run one last time through it before you are put back under the overly warm blanket.  

I run down to my father and jump into his arms. There is a sweet smell of sweat, gasoline and grass around him and and I can feel his stubbles on my cheeks, as he gives me a goodnight kiss. He throws me over his shoulder and I know he has thus decided that today he is the peasant husband and I am a sack of potatoes, which must be put in place indoor with the woman. The woman in this case, my mother and the place is back in my bed. But it's really quite ok, because I got my five-minute experience of freedom, when I ran out and said goodnight. A ritual my dad and I had almost every evening throughout the summer of my eighth year. A memory stored so well in my heart, that every spring when the grass is cut for the first time, I feel like that eight-year-old girl. A time where what hurt the most was to be put to bed a hot summer night.

For what it's worth!

Seeing the documentary and after being truly inspirered and convinced that he was on to something by just being the person he was, I think other people should know about him as well. So have a look at this and feel inspirered, provoked or whatever...just feel something!

To much information!

Do what you want, on the right side of the law. I don't wanna know about it especially not if you wanna be buried with the ashes of your dead dogs! Jezz! AND KEEP IT OFF NATIONAL TELEVISION! I don't wanna pay for that kind of information!
And you know what....? On the first date I don't wanna hear that you think all women are bitches and they only go after the bad boys to end up getting hurt! Shut up! Apparently I'm not of one of them if I'm sitting here with you. And I don't wanna hear about all the good looking girls on the other side of the world and that you should never have come back home. If you don't shut up now I'll pay the bill and leave...then you have saved some money for the next ticket downunder, because seriously I couldn't care less if you are here physically if your mind´s not here anyway. And if you tell me you are not superficial and believe in the good in people, don't call yourself Gucci1mill on your profile....it's just so damn hard to believe you then.

creepy neighbour and bad nutella!

So I woke up early this morning and thought this is going to be a good day, the sun is shinning, it is ideal for rollerskating later today, I have brunch plans with my brother, feeling good in body and brain after the fast 5km run yesterday and the dress fits perfectly...what would make my day really really good, would be a date with an intelligent handsome gentleman.
So with that on my mind and feeling pretty positive about the day to come I pop down to the laundromat...and meet creepy neighbour who can't look me in the eyes but still keep staring at me with nasty eyes. I hurry up and forget to hang all the wet clothes in the basement and brings it up to the flat, so now the place has been re-decorated with freshly washed clothes hanging to dry on the chairs, just to avoid going back to the basement and meet creepy guy!
Well, meeting up with my brother for brunch and lamp-shopping. Windy cold autumn weather outside but the sun is still shinning. Going to Globen Flakket to get their weekend brunch buffet and it's perfect until I choose the crunchy nutella on a slice of bread.....urrrg nasty....I forgot I don't like nutella anymore after last winter buying the biggest jar in Netto and eating it everyday for two months. Feeling the crunchy nutella getting more and more sticky in my mouth growing into a big sticky nutelladumpling that is impossible to swallow. Looking quite funny trying to swallow something while my throat fights against it. I wash it down with strong coffee and making note to myself: "never ever eat nutella again(at least not the sheap one)."
Ending the afternoon with an episode of Doctor House and a cup of herbal tea, convinced that that is going to make me feel not so bad about the big naughty brunch! and the money I could have saved eating breakfast/lunch at home and at the same time avoided the bad crunchy nutella.

ignorant happiness!

So I was looking at old pictures from my trip to NZ with the man that went away and it made me feel alienated and sad because I could not recognize the girl in the pictures. I could not remember the person I was then or identify myself with the smiles. But I do remember that that girl was very happy. Despite occasionally tears of confusion over life from a failure to behave predictably it was not tears of loss, grief or despair. And it was only when feeling really down.
So that girl was happy and pretty sure - not where life was taking her- but that it was going to be a damn good journey. The pictures tell me a story about a not too serious a girl trying to have fun and really enjoy every moment. Did I somehow know? All the imaginary photos and memories are stored in my private computer and sometimes when I close my eyes and focus real hard I can still feel his stubbled chin on my neck kissing me goodnight. I am glad that at least I have that.

So finally I got a picture of me wearing my favourite miss vera skirt and even though it ain't the best of pictures I'll publish it anyway because I love the skirt so much!
What a great night that was anyway...with lots of good silly friends, bubbles, rum and cake! And a fantastic ride in to town in a 50 year old light blue Lada almost like the one my granddad had with leather upholstery even on the ceiling and just as noisy!

Hopefulness!

So here I sit again infront of the computer listening to the dear Paolo Nutini and feeling more and more convinced that it is possible to fall in love with a man just because of his voice! And if that is the case then maybe it is possible for me to fall in love again in general. Looking back two years I'd never thought it possible to ever love again because the love I had never went away when he did! But now I am hopeful and looking forward to finding another different love to give where there is room for the one that never went away!

I'm trying to put all my thoughts, writings and stories together so it will make some kind of sense. I have signed up for a course "Write your life" and I am not quite sure why except I think I have some kind of interesting story to tell. I just need a little help because I'm not sure how to start or where to start.
Or maybe it is just because I'm trying to give my life substance and I can't wait around for the knight in shinning armour no. 2 to show up or pull his act together. I have joined a political party as well, not because my own life is bad or badly influented by the government, but because I think there is a lot of people who need someone to fight their fights and maybe I could be one of those people that fights....and maybe if I need it one day they will fight for me!

It's fashion darling!

To all my favourite women in the world, from Norway to New Zealand, from Latvia to Montana,
who love the outfits in Madmen but is still pleased to live in a century where it is ok to be an independent woman, get tattoos without being misjudged as white trash, wear baggy jeans on a lazy tuesday and dress up in petitcoats and circle skirts on a cheeky thursday and choose a man that fits the outfit instead of the other way around. It's fashion, it's a lifestyle and it's a game...and you can find it all at www.missveraclothing.com