Yesterday I made myself available to the world by acquiring a portable modem so that I can connect to the Internet via mobile broadband. It's a small box that I attach to my computer through a usb port. Great, now I can finally connect to the Internet on a regular basis. I used to connect via someone elses wireless, but now that option has disappeared, literally. However, it's not all smooth sailing. Most of the time the connection gets stuck, forcing me to have to wait until it's unstuck again. Not such a big problem, but combine that with the fact that the modem disconnects sometimes and you've got a slightly bigger and more annoying problem. Even so, I shouldn't complain, Internet is such a new invention that I should be lucky to even have it.
They are great to look at, but they always seem better on some young leggy girl than on me. I love to put high heels on, because they make me feel like someone other than my normal boring self. But I can only walk in them for an hour or two and then my feet start hurting like hell. This weekend I actually managed to sprain my left big toe. How does that happen? And they weren't even that high. I don't know if I am dissing or hailing the high heeled shoe. They are great, but they are also hell heels. Anyway, here is a great video of girls losing their footing when wearing heels. Enjoy.
Absolutely nothing. Ok, perhaps not nothing. But I find that the older I get the less inclined people are to celebrate me. It probably has nothing to do with me personally, most likely it has to do with the fact that no one is especially enthused about getting older, so why celebrate? And it's true, I'm not glad that I'm slowly nearing a rounder number and in turn coming closer to my demise. I might be a long way from being six feet under, but time goes so fast when you're having fun.. or when you're just living. Each birthday is just a painful reminder of who one's friends are. Who will remember me this year? Who will send me a birthday card? Who will just not give a crap? I try my best to congratulate people on their birthdays, but what am I actually congratulating them about? It doesn't really matter, because that's not the point. The whole point of having a birthday is to be able to say: "I'm not doing the dishes today, it's my birthday." A sort of free-day where you can do whatever you bloody well want and no one can interfere or question you about it. Great! Here's looking a me!
This morning I had to take a trip to Gothenburg on business. Instead of taking a train from Falun to Gothenburg via Örebro, I chose to go to Stockholm by X 2000 and changing to another fast train to Gothenburg. I like taking the fast trains because they are infinitely more comfortable than the old ones and much quieter. But today I realised that there are some noises you just can't get away from, such as kissing noises. A girl came onboard the train bound for Gothenburg about fifteen minutes before departure and sat down next to the boy in the seat behind me. Apparently - I was eavesdropping - she was not going to Gothenburg but wanted to say goodbye to her boyfriend. Ah, that's sweet. But then came the kissing, and not subtle lip-on-lip kissing, but tongue-in-mouth kissing. I know this from experience, trust me. And they didn't, of course, just kiss once, but several times. Sure, it's all ok, they're young and in love. But when you're not moving there are no other noises to drown out the face sucking noises of two people slobbering all over each other. I guess I have to account for some minor awkwardness when travelling in comfort.
In Sweden we drive on the right side of the road, and as a side effect we also walk on the right side of a pathway. But I have discovered a small town in Sweden where pedestrians walk on the left side of a path. Crazy? Well, not so much if you think that when walking on a road where there are cars and no pavements you walk on the left side of the road so that drivers are able see you in time. But, I have seen people walking on the left side of non-traffic pathways. How crazy is that? And it's not just one or two random people, but all of them. Mums, dads, elderly, youngsters, etc. Why? Do they do this because they do it on the trafficated roads? I try to make it point to walk on the right side of the road, because that's what I do when I'm driving or on a bike. And sometimes I am nearly forced off the path and into the shrubs that line it because some local thinks that I am in the wrong. But I'll keep trying to make the locals see reason, and soon, hopefully, I'll have made them all walk on the right (!) side of the path.
When I became employed, just after I’d graduated from vocational school, I decided that the best step to take – albeit not a popular one – was to join the union. I am very cynical and know that anything can happen, anytime. You never know. So, what’s better than to be insured against a penniless existence if I should somehow be out of a job further down the line? I thank myself for that bold choice because now I really need the help.
Of course, things don’t run smoothly or efficiently when it comes to the authorities. I have now waited four weeks for a first step to be taken, that is the decision to give me money because I have no job. But I learnt yesterday that it might take a couple of weeks more for them to decide, because apparently they have all been on summer holiday and now they’re backed up. And it could take up to 55 days before I see any sort of cash.* So, I’ll just have to be patient. If I need money I could easily go out an beg for it, or go down that well trodden road and become a prostitute. The end justifies the means if I remember correctly.
But even though I have to wait a certain amount of time for a decision to be reached there is no need for the employees at the union to be condesending when I call them. Aren’t the telephone operators supposed to be helpful, isn’t that what they get paid to do? Am I wrong in thinking that they are in a better spot than I am and therefor could be a little more gracious toward the poor unemployed? But I'm probably asking for too much, seeing as they probably get a huge amount of telephone calls every day, and that might be a little too much talky talky for them. At least they have a job. Be grateful for that at least.
Why does it exist? It is - perhaps a cliché - the bane of my existence. Surely there must be other ways to give compensation for goods and food?! It never seems to last, because as soon as it lands in my bank account it miraculously disappears. How come? Where does it go? Toward food and clothing and other trivial things. How to make it last? Perhaps put it in a fund. Or invest in stock. Maybe buy a lottery ticket and hope for the best. Or maybe, just maybe, leave it alone. But where's the fun in that?
.jpg)
