Photographer: Yours truly
Location: Söderåsen, Klippan, Skåne
I skipped a night’s worth of sleep.
Yesterday was the longest day of the year (according to my sister) and we had the brilliant idea of receiving this day at the highest point of Skåne. At 2.30am five city girls (or at least non-country side girls) set off on an adventure to Söderåsens nationalpark, hoping to catch the sunrise and do some wandering about.
I feel slightly retarded due to the lack of sleep. I also got a fair share of visits by certain mosquitoes as well as slight heart attacks from the horror of encountering certain creatures I know, I’m a major wuss.
But it was worth it.
they’re not always black and white.
Lovely Serena, lovely Selma, lovely Malmö
Surely, cleaning out your computer must count as cleaning your room, if your computer so happens to be in your room? Pretty much like cleaning your closet counts as cleaning your room because your closet is in your room. Right?
Well, I was hard at work looking through the old files on my MacBook. Poor thing is acting possessed these days, which might have something to do with the 11 000 images resting in my iPhoto library. Just might. So I thought I’d do something about it, and started flipping through the very oldest “happenings”. It was all good until I stumbled upon this.
Aah. Nantes -07. Spent four days there (school trip), staying with an utterly French and amazingly sweet host family. Above is the oven-baked french bread with camembert (or some other cheese with a fancy name) we had as an appetizer on my second evening there. What followed was my very first taste of canard, I believe. All cooked by the coolest French host father ever. All very magnifique.
Passez-moi la salade, s’il vous-plait? or something. My French is a bit rusty. As if it was ever shiny. Ha. Il est moche dans sa tête. Ha ha. Good times.
Now I’m starving and seriously considering tossing some garlic baguette into the oven whilst I finish cleaning my, ehrm, room. I’ll be damned if I do and be damned if I don’t.
, originally uploaded by joran van der sloot///.
if it only were this colorful.
I really am truly amazed by the crowd the tag nudity draws. Who would’ve known? I bet some were pretty disappointed, and perhaps even majorly put off by my naked ears…
Sort of. Am I alone in feeling extremely nude without earrings? Going out without earrings feels like I’ve just flashed the entire population. I actually usually have a pair of teeny tiny earrings for sleeping. In case I wake up in a hurry to go wherever and forget to grab a pair of earrings on my way out, I’m still comforted by the fact that at least I’m wearing something.
I also need rings to spin on my fingers, have to walk on the right-hand side of people and have to send mass-texts when something funny happens to me. Or tweet, as I do nowadays.
Now I’m off to Jersey Shore it. Yes, Sibel. I just blogged it. Ha!
Two words. Pop. Art. Or one. Popart. Or another two. Lady. Gaga. Or just ale alejandeeerrrooooo.
A more elaborate commentary might pop up later when I get a hold of myself.
So the video starts by feeling kind of like a photo shoot. The outfits, the colors, everything pretty much makes me think that if I’d pick up a still every other second through out the whole video, I’d probably have a spread for Vogue Magazine. After that it’s impression after impression after impression, it’s hard to keep track of all the details. I’ve managed to see the video twice (youtube is pretty much on overload at this point) and am still pretty sure I still haven’t got the whole thing. Nazi-references, suppression, Madonna (Like a prayer, Evita and Vogue, anyone?), religion, sex, war, homoeroticism…
This piece is a lot darker than the before released videos of Gaga. In the same way, it’s quite a lot stronger somehow. As mentioned by Tamar Anitai Gaga did say that this was to be a celebration of her appreciation and love for the gay community. And what tremendous love she gives. Gaga really isn’t going anywhere.
.. it would definitely be Moscow Sheremetyevo. I’ve had nightmares about that place. The ground crew is rude, nonchalant or perhaps just ignorant. The airport is medieval, information is lacking and there is a very, very, very small amount of English spoken amongst the employees. At least the ones who had the decency to address me when I was there.
In 1989, when my mami came to Sweden with my sisters they flew with Aeroflot and made a stopover (amongst many) in Moscow. They were treated really badly, and ended up having to sleep on the floor of the airport. Last I was there I honestly thought, for a full ten minutes, that I had missed my flight. Because they changed the gate without announcing it (at least not in English) and no one had any idea where you could find one of those boards with the gate info on.
It’s sad to see that not much has changed since ’89.
Nevertheless, I’ll be spending a full five hours on Moscow Sheremetyevo Airport on the 12th of August. If anyone would like to wave at me or more preferably come and hold my hand, be my guest. Then it’s off to the melting pot (which probably is going to be a real hot pot by then) and time for weddings and orientations and other memorable things.
Life, you better bring it.
I think I might have a wall-fetisch. Is that possible?
Good morning. I have this annoying feeling that I was supposed to do something fairly important today. But other than eagerly await the release of the major GagaKlein Alejandro, I have no clue what it could be… Hmm. Well, off to do some yoga now, hoping it’ll bring me some wisdom to guide me in my poor decision-making.