More Facebook

I have now found out that Facebook is a shorthand version of a blog. Why writes hundreds of words of nonsense when it can be said only with few words: “I just had a cup of coffee and two cookies.”

I am not gonna be one of these suckers, but I guess I should write something on my wall. Many of these people haven’t heard from me in ages so I must make myself a little bit more interesting than they are. I have to remember to keep it short; people don’t bother reading anything longer than two lines. I have my plan for next week’s Facebook diary ready:

Monday: After work I went bear-hunting, shot only a baby-bear.

Tuesday: I challenged my boss in Russian roulette. Guess who lost!

Wednesday: Didn’t have change for a bus ticket, had to rob my village post office.

Thursday: Late for Scientology meeting, gotta go!

Friday: Yippee, it is the weekly swinger club evening!

Saturday: Yippee, it is the weekly S/M evening!

Sunday: Village priest sick, I had to step in and make the sermon.

Facebook

Some people have kept wondering why I don’t have a profile on Facebook, I have wondered why should I.

“Well, it would be nice to know what you have been up to, and you could know how I am doing” the friend says.

“There is absolutely nothing happening in my life” I answer, “and here I am talking face to face with you, so tell me what you are up to. If I had read it on Facebook, we would have nothing to talk about.”

But I got curious and created a profile on facebook, never say never, I understand my own behaviour as little as I understand anything my husband says. I started to trace people from my past, but I can’t even remember their names. I guess there is a reason they are not part of my life any more.

But I did find some old friends, friends I thought were dead for years ago as I hadn’t a heard a word from them. It was nice to read their news; many of them did get up to go to work yesterday, some ate breakfast today, one had taken a quiz “Which hockey player would you like to be”, another one had baked two days ago, one friend’s dog was sick and finally one who had joined “Don’t sell our country to Russians” forum.

Heavens, all these years without news, I have a lot catching up to do!

Dial M for murder

For some time ago a friend of mine was complaining about her ex-husband who made her life a living hell. As a good friend I offered to fix the ex-husband for 50.000 kr. She was not laughing at all, but got kind of excited and said that no one would wonder about his early death him spending so much time at Nørrebro.

Well, I have been thinking about this new career opportunity and I think I could be a really good hit woman. I would simply persuade the ex-husband in a dark ally, make it impossible for him to escape, and then just start talking. After 20 minutes he would be bored to death (I could always read Hanan Ashrawi’s biography loud if any special effects were required) and I had left no traces behind me.

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Yesterday I told my movie-buddy about my new career plans, and she said that I could also take care of her husband. We usually meet half an hour before the film to discuss our husbands, competing whose husband is the worst one; laziest, most reckless, most stupid and most ignorant. I could see that if her husband must go, I would also have to kill my husband. But my husband has grown immune to my babbling, how on earth I am going to kill him without leaving traces? Then my movie-buddy reminded me about her access to medicine and the problem was solved.

But…if we really kill our husbands, what the hell are we going to talk about the half an hour before the movie starts? Who are we going to blame for the misery we have to go through every day? No more e-mails in the morning starting with “Hear now what my idiot of a husband did yesterday….” What kind of life would that be? Totally empty. No way, we agreed to stick to these lazy asses, the substance of our existence.

Men driving 2

If you are waiting in a cross to make a left turn and car approaching from left will signal only 1 meter before making the right turn (and made you to wait unnecessarily), the driver of that car is most certainly a man.

If you are driving 150 km/h on a motorway, and a car behind you has only 1 meter’s distance to your car, the driver behind is most certainly a man.

Anyone behaving like an ass in traffic is most certainly a man.

Any man who denies being an ass in traffic is a liar. If he really isn’t an ass, he is not a man but a woman disguised as a man.

God made a mistake when she allowed men to drive. Men should never have gotten off their horses.
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Life at the office 3

We just had to move to new desks at the office. While I was emptying my desk cabinet I found out that if I ever get stuck here in the office in a force majeure situation, I will not die of hunger or lack of shoes in the first many years.

Des roses & des orties

Can fixed marriages work; can you learn to love someone? Are the odds for a fixed marriage starting with indifference and ending up in love as high as for a marriage starting in love and ending up in indifference?

I was never a big fan of Francis Cabrel but last summer my husband, a big fan of Cabrel, exposed me to his music for weeks, and I grew to love it.

I guess without music I would have hard time accepting my lot on this earth.



Adossé à un chêne liège,
Je descendais quelques arpèges
En priant Dieu bout d'art que sais-je,
Est ce que tu penses à nous un peu.

Le monde est aux mains de stratèges
Costume noir, cravate beige
Ou turban blanc comme la neige
Qui joue de bien drôles de jeux.

Il y a dans nos attelages
Des gens de raison, de courage,
Dans tous les camps de tous les âges
Dont le seul rêve est d'être heureux.

On a dressé des cathédrales,
Des flèches à toucher les étoiles,
Dit des prières monumentales,
Qu'est- ce qu'on pouvait faire de mieux.

Etes vous là, êtes vous proche
Ou trop loin pour entendre nos cloches
Ou gardez vous les mains dans les poches
Ou est-ce vos larmes quand il pleut.

D'en haut de vos très blanches loges
Les voyez vous qui s'interrogent
Millions de fourmis qui pataugent
La tête tournée vers les cieux.

Sommes nous seul dans cette histoire,
Les seuls à continuer à croire,
Regardons nous vers le bon phare
Où le ciel est t-il vide et creux.

Adossé à un chêne liège
Pris comme dans les fils d'un piège
Je descendais quelques arpèges
Je n'avais rien trouvé de mieux.

Où êtes vous dans l'atmosphère,
On vous attend on vous espère,
Mais c'est le doute et le mystère
Que vous m'aurez appris le mieux.

Adossé à un chêne liège
Je descendais quelques arpèges
Par un après-midi pluvieux.

Je descendais quelques arpèges
par un après-midi pluvieux.

Death of a Daydream man

Lige børn leger bedst…Lika barn leka bäst.



Norma Jean, what were you thinking of?