Disguised love

Since last friday morning there is another cat staying at my place. Cute cat's brother, let's refer to him as Obidobi (since this is what Mom calls him, loudly and repetitively at times, annoying times). Cute cat's brother, Obidobi, is also cute. But of course, cute cat is cuter**. They are also very cute towards eachother, at least this is what I think, or what I choose to see. They are just really good at disguising their respectively good intentions, so you have to look hard to see it.

Take the following example: Obidobi is calmly sleeping on a shelf. Cute cat has just woken up on the sofa, and is disturbed by the fact that Obidobi is still sleeping. Cute cat stretches, climbs up his climbing post, and jumps to the book shelf (now only one shelf and a small bridge separating him and the still fast asleep Obidobi). Cute cat then turns on Ninja Mode. He lowers his posture, lowers his ears, fixes his eyes on Obidobi (still unawarely sleeping) and sneaks up on the first shelf and quietly and slowly makes his focused way towards Obidobi. When he reaches the sleeping brother, he starts licking Obidobi's face; a sign of love and care in the cat world, apparently. Obidobi calmly starts to wake up in what he perceives as a very friendly and loving environment, and leans his head further back so cute cat can lick the underhang of his chin properly. This is when cute cat shows his real intentions with the friendly act, and launches sharp teeth first at Obidobi's exposed trachea. Obidobi fights him off, cute cat starts his brotherly loving cleaning act again, Obidobi again takes the hook, line and sinker, and again cute cat can launch a sudden attack for Obidobi's throat. And so it continues, taking in turns to be the "friendly" brother, or the sleeping and repetitively naïve brother.

And they have no time to be petted by me, they just want to play with eachother. I feel quite left out, apart from at night time when my duvet-covered sleeping body is used as something ok to run across chasing eachother. Two cats, is one too many. At least on my rather few sqare meters of apartment.


** Unbiasedly significantly higher cuteness than for any other cats participating in the study, p< 0.01 (data not shown)

Kissin' time

There has been a lot of talking about kisses today. I need to share.

It all started this morning when me and sweetest boyfriend were getting ready to go to our respective work places (him to work, and me to chat for a couple of hours, apparently). I had put on chap stick on my lips, and made a crazy mouth so he wouldn't be able to steal it from my lips upon kissing me. I needed it myself today, it was fucking minus 4 degrees Celsius this morning, and that's cold. Especially for lips! So he did funny mouth too, and said that it was like kissing a girl when you were 7 or 8; quick, funny mouths and not so nice. Or at least, at that age, you were not to show anyone that you liked it, that was typically un-cool. He asked me if I could remember my first kiss, and I have been thinking about it all day. I honestly can't remember ever kissing a guy before age 16, how cool is that? But anyway, he then told me the cutest story. He said that at his primary school for fun-friday-hour, a disco or some friends birthday party, they always had dancing competitions. Some participated, and the other kids would vote who were to win one of the following prices:

3rd price: the couple were allowed to hug each other
2nd price: the couple were allowed to kiss each other on the cheeks
and finally 1st price: the couple were allowed to kiss each other on the mouths!

This kissing on the mouths were the real reason for having/participating in the dance competitions. However, he continued explaining, it wasn't as simple as just dancing your best, as you might otherwise expect from a dancing competition. Apparently, if you chose one of the cooler girls no-one else would out of jealousy want you to kiss her, so they wouldn't vote for you and her. But if you would choose someone more nerdy, the likelyhood of other kids voting for you increased. Of course, your prize wasn't as nice then. But still nice enough. But as I mentioned before, you could most definitely not show that you actually enjoyed your kissin' price. Because that wasn't cool. Confusing? Kissing is the best prize you can get, but you cannot like it. Kids and their logic, eh?

And then Hampus, my lovely 6 year old neighbour was in here playing. We threw toys for the cats to chase, and baked saffron Christmas treats. And then out of nowhere he asked me: "have you married someone?". I replied with a quite surprised "no?!". I thought it was just some random thing he had thought about, but then the cause was revealed when his follow-up question was a wonderment about the reason for me kissing my sweet boyfriend last saturday when he came over (which Hampus saw, since he was also here). I explained to Hampus that I kissed my boyfriend because I was in love him, and that you needn't be married in order to kiss someone. Then he let me in on one of his secrets (and now I am telling everyone), that he kisses some girls in his class too, but not 'cause he wants to marry them. It is just because the girls don't approve of it, and run away screeaching something about the awfulness of boy germs.

Christmas is on its way...

...with large HO-HO-ing steps. On sunday christmas spirit will finally set in as the christmas eve-countdown starts (because it is of course christmas eve that is something to celebrate, not christmas day). The very first Advent sunday is on approach. I will spend it enjoying the happy spirit in Lund, especially at Kulturen, our city cultural museum. Every year they put on a heavy christmas-y thing with saffron rolls, glögg (hot snaps with spices and sugar, served with raisins and almonds), ginger bread making/decoration, straw goats and general weird random things bring out a happy spirit from the crowds.

Yesterday I put up my only christmas decoration, the christmas lights on my balcony (joining the heather plants and and spruce twigs), and in my window my two hyacinth bulbs are sending out green sprouts, hopefully filling my apartment with a nice smell in time for christmas. However, I am not so sure if cute cat likes them though. Every day coming home from my course, I have found them both on the floor, outside their pots. But I am persistent, putting them back, and hoping that cute cat's will won't prevail mine. For once.

Cat overdosing

I have for the first time had a few digital photos developed, taken with my very cool ultra-high-tech-camera. The pictures were really excellent, and looked quite professional developed on matte paper with a white frame around. Do I need to say that of the 40 pictures I had developed, 20 of them had cute cat as main object. I also had tree pictures developed large (30x40 cm), also those featuring cute cat of course. Now I have put all cute cat's pictures up on my walls. The large ones are in silvery frames, and the small ones are put with sowing needles on a thin strip of fabric just by my door. So now, not only the floors and furniture are covered by a cute speeding cat, but also my walls. Damned pretty if you ask me! I love my cat.

Low effort

I am in the middle of a personal experiment, that's always quite fun. I am trying, for a change, to keep a low effort level on an assignment. I am in class all this week, for another compulsory PhD-course. This one seems quite interesting and useful, and goes under the name Oral Communication. We have classes all week, but today we are on our own, preparing a presentation we are to give the others on thursday. Normally, I would work hours and hours on an assignment like this, learning it by heart, and practising until perfect. This time I have decided to put in no more work than 4 hours in total, which I here refer to "low/minimal" effort. We had 2 papers to read, a written part to hand in with explanations to why we chose the layout/presentation techniques we did, and then prepare the oral presentation. I have so far put in 3 hours and 40 minutes, and I am almost done. I need some detail work on my presentation only, and addition of one sentence on my written assignment, and I am quite sure I will make it.

I wonder how my personal experiment shall end. Will the outcome of my presentation (the judgement from the audience/teacher) will be any different now, with this minimum effort, than I normally get on presentations on which I have put maximal effort? Or if it at least will be good enough? Maybe there is nothing wrong with "only" being good enough? It's just a thought.

Sudoku-bastards

Another prejudice, gone. Dissolved right before my eyes. Damned! I hate when that happens. We all know we get by on a bunch of more or less well-founded prejudices about every-day things. Until this weekend, I had a firm (of course) prejudice about those stupid Sudoku-puzzles. I am sure I don't have to explain what they are more thoroughly, since they are so bloody popular right now. The popularity-factor being one of the reasons for me not wanting to like them. One wants to be different right? Not fall for the main-stream rubbish. But, as the definition of prejudices states, they are your judgement about things before actually having tested it one/a few time(s). And being an aware prejudice holder, as I am, I need to confront and challenge my prejudical ideas.

In the crossword puzzle magazine I buy every month, they have in the last two issues put three Sudoku puzzles; easy, medium, difficult. Last month, when I discovered this new addition I was outraged. In my divine crossword puzzle magazine, how can they sink so low, as to put in Sudoku? When it happened in this month's magazine again, I started realising that my 'testing-Sudoku'-days were near. So, this weekend I tried Sudoku for the first time. I was prepared not to like it, and I wanted to manage doing them all quite easily, so I could feel that I was superior to Sudoku. That I somehow knew how to do it, was good at it, but never had to do it again. It started well. The 'easy' puzzle lived up to its name, and so did the 'medium'-one, and I felt no apparent signs of enjoying it.

Then when I was about to start the 'difficult'-one, I was struck with the feeling of liking that "there it was, a completely untouched Sudoku, just sitting there for me to overwin". I was annoyed, I didn't expect nor wanted to have this feeling. But as a prejudice challenger you need to accept when it happens. I started working on the puzzle, and as also its name stated, it was difficult. I worked harder and harder, until I finally had to sleep. The first thing I thought when I woke up the saturday morning thereafter, at 9 am was "I wonder where I put my Sudoku". That bugged me. But I got over being bugged quickly when I realised would have a whole weekend to enjoy working on my difficult Sudoku. I still haven't been able to finish it, but I am getting there. It is only difficult, it says, not impossible. So who would I be to give up on it? But by now, I am realising that even if I do solve it, I won't be able to cast all future Sudokus aside with a simple thought that 'I am superior to Sudoku'. If I know myself, I will probably throw myself at it, and puzzle my ass off. Damned it!

Heat-wave

In Sweden heat-waves are uncommon (as you might expect from prejudices/actual knowledge). Heat-waves are uncommon also during the summers, but especially during late November. But don't worry, it is not a work of the green-house effect or something equally wishy-washy. Winter has struck Sweden now. During the past night, the very last remnant of summer was slayed on my balcony by 5-something degrees Celcius below freezing point. The poor plant, with long fine extensions all over the balcony/wall/nearby flowerbed, was all mushy. I collected the remains, and carried them solemnly across the frost-bitten lawn to the compost.

By the recent strike of winter, ol' grandma of the house has solidly fired up the oil boiler. My radiators have gone crazy, pumping around my apartment air, sharing its heat. When I arrived home this morning, it felt very warm. But I thought, going from -5 C to +17-something inside is bound to feel hot. After having spent about 10 minutes in my apartment, I still felt very hot, and almost started sweating (despite having my pulse returned to normal after the recent bike ride). And still, I feel the same. Borderline sweat. All my radiators are set to maximum, and I refuse to reduce the heat just yet. I have about 25 C in my apartment at the moment, and I just love it. Heat is brilliant. Especially when heat is very much absent outdoors.

Over my heels

It is so weird. Life, the universe and everything.

Suddenly things just happen. Things, you by no means expected or even dared hope for, just occur. You stand there puzzled and confused. Where, why, what? And it sneaks up on you, that sensation of being in love. When you last lost it, you told yourself never to get involved with that awful feeling again. But somehow that sensation seeks you out, it tells you that it wants to be part of you again. You try to avoid it, remembering the devastation last time. But with time, you devastation grow distant and less important. And suddenly, out of nowhere, you start to suspect that you feel ready to find a special someone to share things with.

That happened to me during the summer. I still wasn't sure that I was ready for a relationship, not even sure I was ready to meet anyone at all. Meeting someone you don't know, that is horrible. Or at least, it has a potential to be, and I wasn't sure I was ready for that factor of stress just yet. But I thought, what the hell, I'll put an add on a swedish meeting site (www.motesplatsen.se). It is not likely that I will find someone even interesting to e-mail back and forth to, lest that I would like to meet up with.

I got a few e-mails from people that seemed really weird. One guy described his genitals in his first message to me, and promised me that I would not be disappointed. I wrote him quite a sarcastic message back, but he missed to get the message, and seemed led on by it. So I made my complete uninterest clear in the next one. Not even that guy could now avoid understanding. There were another few with the same general interest, and another few that seemed quite boring and didn't even wake my otherwise very keen interest in writing. Then I met a nice guy from a city nearby. He was very interested in taking pictures, and had recently bought the same camera as I had. We talked about photograpy like crazy, sent pictures back and forth, and had a blast. There was a nice photo exhibit in his city, and it felt like a nice opportunity to meet up for a real chat. I was under the impression that our interest in eachother were photographical, but I now realise that was naïve. We had a good time together that afternoon, I chatted like crazy, but he seemed very shy and nervous. I should have realised. When I went to catch my train we said that we should meet up again, but we never did. Because the day after I realised he was interested in me, not my opinions/insights/interest in photograpy. And I could never even consider him in that way. He was my photography-friend. He got sad, and never wanted to see me again. Fair enough.

I also wrote e-mails back and forth with another guy at this time. Flirting a bit. He seemed very nice, and looked cute on his pictures, and I felt quite intrigued by him. I decided that I had the nerves to meet up with him. Before going I was quite worried. I had a very strong urge to make out, and I didn't want this to affect my meeting with this guy. If I would get creepy vibes I wanted to be perceptive for this, and leave. Not confused with my general urge to make out. But my worrying was uncalled for. He turned out to actually be really cute, really nice and considerate. We had a great time, chatting, making strange drinks, hanging out. I wondered if he felt the same, but ignored the thought. He started a sentence, then looked confused and said "what was I going to say...?". I chatted on saying that I could not know this, and bla bla bla. He looked at me, kind of leaning in towards me, and I realised then that he wanted to kiss me. So we did. And we have continued doing it since. He is a terrific person. He makes me laugh, makes me happy, makes me relaxed and comfortable, makes me feel special. What are the odds really? I am so bloody in love with him now. The first few weeks my cynical side expected to find out something awful about him, cause you can't be that great, that he had murdered his family or something. But I have now met some people, claiming to be his family, seeming very alive and lovely. Damned. So I guess I am in love now then, and nothing to stop me, apparently.

Self-day

Today is a take-care-of-myself (and my own shit) day.

So far I have played with cute cat, had a nice breakfast, slept a bit more, and hoovered/cleaned my apartment. Cleaned thoroughly, i.e. also behind/under stuff, used a wet cloth, and removed stupid spider web from my celing. My flowers have been talked to, examined, and some also got a splash of water (also my three lovely heather plants on the balcony). The selection of plausible ways to continue the day are: buy small things for the Advent gift-calender I am making for my sweet sister, work out, fix nails, do crossword puzzles, sleep, knit, cut fabric for New Year's dress, sleep some more, and/or take a walk. Nice to have many things that you can do, but don't have to do. I guess I could also prepare for tomorrow morning's meeting with my cognitive psychologist.

Or, I could just hang out and revel in the fact that I was awarded a 2000-euro stipend for my current research project! How good is that? Now I can finally slosh about with my expensive antibodies, just like I have always wanted.

Side effect

There are a 50-something acknowledged side effects to my 'recently-switched-to' anti-depressant medication. And unfortunantely I am aquiring more and more of them. Hopefully the majority of these side effects will turn out to be transient, as promised, but I can look forward to at least another few weeks with the following:

headache
fatigue
loss/reduction of appetite
dizziness
sleep disturbances
apathy
nausea
dry mouth
orthostatic hypotension
visual disturbances

These comprising >30 % of the most common side effects experienced when using this substance. I am so freakishly bored. Unable to do anything straining, without getting exhausted afterwards; work, meeting friends, sowing, crossword puzzling, reading, photography, painting. It sucks.

New Year's dress

My sowing skills have improved dramatically during the last two months attending the pattern design class. I am now finally ready to go from blue/white large-flowered test clothes (see picture in October post 'Dress making') to more advanced sowing. I have started sketching on a dress for my New Year's Eve party (as above), drawn a corresponding pattern, and I have also purchased the fabric. The top part of the dress will be in a black velvety thing, and the lower part a silky green fabric with a discreet pre-stitched pattern, lifted up by an exaggerated number of tulle (as seen in ballerina tutus/dresses). I am also thinking on an additional waist part, something silky wrapped around the waist, maybe ending in a bow on my back. I will start by doing a test on the skirt part (yes, probably in blue/white flowers) to decide the OSW, optimal skirt width. But before long I hope to be able to move on to cutting the real fabric. It will be a pleasure. Or at least I hope so. If nothing else it will be good practise, in sowing and in patience.

Innocent

It is truely amazing. Amazing how cute cat most often can look so incredibly innocent, playing nicely with his plastic mice. And then the next second, attack me while I am sleeping calmly on the couch, biting my knee and toes. This is how he woke me up an hour ago. And then, he moved on to the bathroom. He loves toilet rolls, he takes them off the holder, bites and kicks them until there is nothing but a pile of something you might suspect once could have had the possibility to wipe someone's arse. So I have started hiding the toilet rolls from him. It is now in the cupboard over the zink. You, a normal-sized human, can just reach it from the toilet seat, if you reach out properly. And the toilet roll killing has seized, apart from the infrequent mishaps when I (or a visitor) forget to put the roll back in the cupboard.

But now, this precautionary measure seems outdated. I heard weird noices from the bathroom when returning to snooze mode after having been knee-bittenly woken up. But I could not be bothered getting up from the couch, I was just too tired. I chose to naïvely assume it was one of his toys getting a round of beating. After about 5 minutes he came strutting across the room, with a toilet roll in his mouth. He looked so proud. I shouted NO! Without showing the least reaction to my exhortation, he walked over to his paper bag, and brought the toilet roll with him inside the bag. Annoyed with myself now for having forgotten to put the roll back into the cupboard, I got off my lazy ass, went over to him and collected the toilet roll. Upon putting the toilet roll into the cupboard, I noticed that other items that normally stay in that very same cupboard were now laying scattered over the floor/bathtub/toilet. So it seems I did not forget to put the roll back, but instead, he has learnt how to get on top of the zink, reach up towards the cupboard, open it, and throw the things out of the cupboard. At the moment the toilet roll is now instead situated on top of that cupboard, out of reach for my water closet visitors.

TV

Since I went on sick leave I have noticed there is a lot of pure crap on television. This afternoon, after waking up from my 2-hour post-work nap, I layed and watched sitcoms (Judging Amy, South Park, King of Queens, Will and Grace, That 70's show). Between two of the shows the TV announcer came on and talked about programmes coming up later this evening. He mentioned that tonight are the finals of the swedish version of Paradise Hotel at 10.30 pm. He informed that today, we would finally know which couple would win the money and honour at stake in the show.

Honour, I think it is a wee bit too late for that.

NB. I speak from a strictly prejudical perspective, since I have actually never seen the programme. Instead the small clips, shown to promote viewing the show, has given me my entire basis for the content.

No smokers

In general, I dislike to disturb and annoy people. But I make an exception for smokers. Cigarette smoke has disturbed me since forever. In my opinion smokers show an apparent lack of respect for others. I choose actively not to smoke, then frankly I don't want anyone smoking in my vicinity, intoxicating me with various poisonous agents, disabling me to inhale the fresh air and making me smell bad. Nowadays though, I feel less annoyed with smokers since new swedish laws forbid them to smoke in many of the places where they previously would disturb me (pubs, clubs, restaurants, etc.). Now it is more of a shame to smoke. They have to stand outside the non-smoking place, looking silly in general, smoking more for the sake of finish the current cigarette, than enjoying your party and casually doing it smoking. Smokers also annoy me less, because I more often get to annoy the smokers in return. I give the lonely smokers outside the pub a smug grin when passing them. I give them off glances, cough, hold my nose, cover my mouth when passing them on the street, or simply say out loud that 'it is so annoying when people smoke', or 'who's smoking?!' (with a quite negative tone). First I feared being this annoying to someone else (even a smoker) would affect me to feeling less satisfied with myself, but the result turns out the opposite. I quite like getting my revenge on a group of people that have been disturbing me for such a long time. I wish everyone would quit that nasty habit, it is not good for themselves, and especially not good for anyone else around them.

Today I got to (hopefully) annoy another smoker. A teenage girl sitting with her friend at the trainstation in Helsingborg. I was innocently standing on the platform waiting for the delayed train, working on my Genious crossword puzzle. The instant the familiar stench reached me I started scanning the area around me to look for the source. The quite pretty brunette girl was sitting on a bench just beneath one of the many conspiciously red signs recently put up with both text and an image to symbolize that the station is a non-smoking area. She had one right in front of her as well, just across the double train tracks. The pleasure I felt in my body when I went over to her, and kindly asked her to put out her cigarette is simply undescribeable. She said 'Oops! I am sorry'. She might be sorry, but foremost regardless. I hope she will surrender her objectionable habit of smoking, especially when so obviously prohibited. Then maybe she'll still be pretty also when 50, with no bad teeth, no complexion of a 80 year-old, no deep voice, and no yellow fingernails, with a life expectancy returned more or less to normal. Maybe she'll be 80 one day, with the complexion of an 80 year-old!

Pushing it

Sometimes, when I don't feel like doing anything, I choose to push myself into doing them anyway. I guess partly because I am frustrated by the feeling of not wanting to do anything, and also because I sometimes am able to evoke the feeling of wanting to do the thing, while I am doing it.

This morning I woke up a few minutes before my alarm went off. In the safety of my own apartment, in the arms of a man with whom I share a feeling of mutual infatuation. We had breakfast, and went off to work. And I started counting cells. Up until here, it was a very good morning. Then I saw that I had lost my booking for the microscope on wednesday, meaning I had better finish my counting by tomorrow. This felt a bit stressful, since it meant I had to count twice as much in one day compared to what I had managed to do previously. But I thought, it is possible! I felt I good do it if I pushed myself. I could feel the fatigue sneaking up on me, but I ignored it. I thought about how my week would proceed.

Today: after work I am to meet a friend, Nilla. It made me fear that the feeling of tiredness would consume me by the time I had to see her, but I decided I didn't want to cancel. I want to be social, I want to work.

Tuesday: I need to work as much as I did today, which might not be possible, I might be more tired tomorrow morning than I was this morning. Meaning I might start off with a greater feeling of fatigue tomorrow morning when it is the day after I worked really hard, and met a friend, than the feeling I had this morning when I had spent a whole weekend relaxing. Tomorrow I am also to see another friend, Effie, after work so I can't be tired then either.

Wednesday: I will do statistics on the cells I have counted, so I need to work a few hours. In the afternoon I will meet up with my friend Kvack, I haven't hung out with him properly for a very long time. And in the evening I am to meet up with my american colleague, Catilin in Malmo. I can't cancel, I can't be tired.

Thursday: I will meet my psychologist, which reminded me I have to prepare the assignments we agreed upon. Then I can go home and relax for a while, I don't need to be active until late afternoon for my sowing class. After that I hope to have a chance to meet up with the lovely Eeyore (the infatuated man previously mentioned).

Friday: Friday I can be tired *sigh of relief*.

Saturday: Relax, and then party in the evening.

Sunday: Relax, meet my parents.

It just stresses me out when too many things seem to accumulate. Things I feel I want to do (work and sleep), and people I feel I just have to meet (since I haven't met them in due course). I feel I am staggering. When I try to get an overview of the upcoming week, and all I feel I am looking for is some time for me to not do anything, time to sleep, and time to be alone. I feel like a shit friend for having even a remote sensation of 'plight' in the context of meeting up with them. They are great, and fabulously important to me! It is just hard for me to keep pace with the remainder when tiredness is overwhelming. If I can just push myself until friday, everything will be fine. Right? No friend and no work is affected with my slow pace, and I can feel pleased with myself being able to having gotten through another week without a slip. If all appears to be good, then maybe I can convince everyone (including myself) that everything is just fine.

7'300 words

Finally.

My paper about long-term survival of neurons born initially after an epileptic insult is now submitted! Or rather re-submitted, to the excellent European Journal of Neuroscience. I submitted it originally in the beginning of august, and it was returned to me 4 weeks later with suggested changes from two nice reviewers that had read it more or less thoroughly. We have now done most of the changes suggested, "we" being my immediate supervisor, my professor, and myself. My supervisor and professor have rewritten parts of the text, and made a nice and convincing coverletter to the receiving editor. I myself have mainly retaken/manipulated pictures of pretty cells for two of the six figures. Now all figures look just perfect (if I may be so modest and impartial). Hopefully they will answer me within the next few weeks that they are absolutely thrilled to have the honour to publish my magnificent paper, with all possible speediness. And also phrase it exactly like that to me. Unlikely, but you can dream can't you?

My supervisor was thrilled when I called her with the news that the manuscript was finally submitted again (despite her stated neck-pains and a crying baby). I am glad I could thrill her. I guess I am supposed to feel the same. Relief that I have taken the next step in getting my first very own scientific paper published in a distinguished journal. I am afraid though, that despite all attemts to bring out the feeling (since it was reluctant to arrive spontaneously when I pressed the 'submit'-button), I still don't feel anything about it. It is weird. Maybe it is because my virus is bugging me so much, making me tired and fatigued. Maybe it is because I don't want to celebrate before I know they have accepted it. Or maybe because I already assume they will accept it. Or maybe because I just don't care about it right now. However, I assume I would be emotionally affected if they refused the paper though, so I seem to care somewhat. I just feel it is something I want to get overwith, something not so special. Eventhough it is supposed to feel so very special. Somehow, I just don't feel the paper is "mine", "my work", and I don't know why. It really is mine. It just isn't "me" working at my office. I just feel it is a place I either volountarily go to, to know that I am alive, or the place I force my physical body to move, out of plight, ought and should.

I hope I soon will reclaim my working pride and spirit, and stabilize it within.

Crossword puzzle magic

On tuesday the new issue of the superior crossword puzzle magazine 'Bra Korsord' was released in the stores nationwide. It is a monthly magazine with crossword puzzles in three severity levels. I haven't been able to go to the store picking up the magazine until today, and now I feel much happier. I love a newly printed, flat, untouched crossword puzzle magazine, which you know since previous issues contain so many excellent challenges, and so much entertainment.

But "my" magazine has been fitted with some novelties, sudoku, in three levels. I haven't yet fallen into the world of Sudoku, to which I know many relatives and friends are being lost. I am filled with prejudical thoughts about how boring it is, thoughts which I am reluctant to give up just yet. As it is now, there are only three small sudokus in my crossword puzzle magazine, and I truly hope this won't increase at the expense of any of my favourite crosswords. Then I'd be maaaad. You don't joke about something as joygiving as crosswords, especially not about losing regular access to your favourite ones. It is a shame though, that my stupid cold has increased, at the expense of my health and capability to work on my crosswords. The cold has now moved from first throat only, to throat/cough only, to throat/cough/mucous only, to throat/cough/mucous/nose/sinuses/head. It really sucks. Ban all viruses!

Easy happiness

My pathetic attepmts to formulate existential questions like 'What's the point to...?', always seem to end with 'because I want to be happy'. I wonder if others are of similar view. 'Cause it makes me wonder in such case, why more people aren't happier than what they seem to be. It is so freaking easy to make someone else happy. Too easy to resist trying, at least for me.

Today is the birthday of my dear spanish colleague and newly found friend. She is so sweet, energetic and funny. She makes me laugh. Her presence, in combination with my american colleague, office mate and above all friend, are the two reasons for why the office is such a nice place to hang out. A month ago or so, the Spanish saw one of my scarves I knitted for myself last year, and she said she really wanted to have one of her own, and that she wanted me to teach her how to knit. Last week she told me that she had passed the window of the yarn store when it was closed, and had seen a perfect yarn for her scarf. She was afraid to start knitting with such a nice yarn though, and asked if I could start by teaching her to knit a regular easy wolly black scarf. I helped her out by getting her some knitting needles from home, and soon I will start teaching her. I also went to the yarn store (when it was open) and bought the yarn she was so enthusiastic about, and knitted her a big triangular scarf with a nice pattern for her. Today, I gave her the scarf for her birthday, and it made her so happy. She was almost overwhelmed. It is so nice to make people happy, and so easy! So why not take the chance more often?

What can I do?

There are, and I fear, always will be people in need. This feels frustrating to me when I choose to think about it. So many people need help; starving people in so many countries all over the world, people dying for reasons that others don't die from to the same extent anymore (influenzas, pneumonias, diptheria, malaria, AIDS, lack of fresh water etc.), people exposed to natural disasters (earthquakes, tsunamis). The great need is overwhelming, and sometimes makes me feel that there is no use donating money at all, I can't do anything. It can also feel very impersonal to donate money to a big organisation, that in turn help the third part. And I sometimes worry if my money actually reaches the people I want to help. It is for these reasons (and probably some others, out of reach at the moment due to extensive denial) I sometimes can choose to simply ignore a cry for help. I choose not to listen to it, think about something else, think about what my little contribution really can do, think about the many others that also need the money, think that I should not be subjected to these messages about people dying, suffering and needing my help, why should I feel guilty for not donating my money, I need my money myself, I have earned them myself, my money are mine, so many others more rich don't help as much, and so on. It is so easy to use one/a few of those reasons not to care, and simply repress all thoughts about the misery others endure.

You shouldn't feel guilty for not donating money to others, I don't most of the time. But sometimes it is nice to try to do something for others. Of course everybody has a few coins to spare, most people at least. You can of course choose to buy something else for that money instead, something that might seem futile in the context, but none the less, you are absolutely entitled to choose what you do with your own money, no guilt attached. All I want to say is that at least try to listen to the cries for help media transmitts to you, don't block it off instantly. Don't be afraid, it won't harm you to donate a small amount once, it does not mean you have to do it all of the time. I feel it can be so hard and sad for me to try to understand the situation some less fortune people go through. But realistically, people are dying, suffering, starving on this very same planet I live on, and no amount of thought repression will ever change that. Money collections should not be associated with so much guilt! Please see it as an opportunity instead. An opportunity, when you see fit, to do as much as you are able to. You are a very tiny part of the earth's population, what you do is completely insignificant in that context. You can't on your own change the world, but what you can do is actually to do just that. Do what you are able to.

This was part of my very own and personally designed 'what I can do right now'. I can blog about not to fear money donations, and to see it as an opportunity instead. Maybe my blogging won't give e.g. the freezing people in Pakistan tents to last them through the winter, but just the chance (that someone donates something) is totally worth it. I can also donate some money myself, not much, but I can definitely spare 10 euro this month. Again these 10 euro might not give a Pakistani family food for even a day, but the hope that it might reach them, and let them live another day, is totally worth my little contribution. I can buy the magazine sold by homeless on the streets, maybe it can help change their predicament. And as usual my sweet Tomás in Mexico will get his monthly 20 euros, enabling him to go to school, and his parents to improve the nutrition and general family situation by learning a trade. It might not change anything, maybe Tomás' future children will be as poor and miserable as his life was before I started donating money to him. Maybe his parents won't be able to learn a trade, or even if they do, maybe they won't be able to make a living out of it anyway. But just the chances that my (for me) small contribution might change his and his family's situation, is totally worth it. It is a great opportunity for me to donate money, it gives me hope that maybe something can be better for someone, someday, perhaps. And that is enough for me.