I'm bored. Ask me something.

3 moods I was in today: manic, happy, aggravated

3 feelings I experienced today: bloating, amusement, affection

3 things I'm looking forward to this weekend: sleeping in, seeing Katrina, bookstore visit

3 things I need to accomplish this weekend: laundry, shopping for Father's Day, finishing the bookgroup book

3 things I keep wasting time on: Sword of Fargoal, Facebook, reading blogs

3 things that have made me happy lately: county-wide recycling pick-up program, a minus on the scale, that my friend's husband may get to go home from the hospital this weekend for a few hours

3 people I'm thinking of: Bryce, Melanie, my dad

3 places I wish I were: my mom's house in Michigan, Soliden, somewhere sunny

3 work-related tasks I did a lot of this week: presentation reviews, case study layouts, advertisement layouts & admin

3 people I wish had blogs: my mom, my brother, Becky

3 LJ'ers I'd like to meet in real life that I haven't yet:* gnostreah, jackiejj, kimbis

3 shamefully neglected projects: my family website, my collage book, my letter-writing

3 things I miss: vacation, that early-relationship glow, the eyesight I took for granted in my younger days

3 fruits I never get tired of: golden kiwis, clementines, red seedless grapes

3 things I'm glad don't actually exist in real life: dimension spiders, orcs, sparkly vampires

3 things I wish there would be an end to: health scares among my loved ones, the crappy weather, this list

3 ways to end this list: stop at 2, go to bed, triple-dog-dare YOU to your own list of triplets

*They're not the only ones, though.

I suppose that I may not complain about the dearth of posts from people I want to read when I have been lax about writing myself.

Thinking of that was enough to make me un-duff and start writing.

If only it was always so easy.

Also, if only it resulted in a post worth reading! HAR! suckahs! :P

It was damned cold out today—fall arrived with a snap and a vengeance. It took no prisoners in its announcement of arrival. Cold, rain, gusting winds, grey skies. BRRR...now I'm sort of bumming about my yummy lunch salads because it's kind of a drag to eat a cold salad, however yummy it may be, when it's COLD out. Cold in. Cold everywhere, and not even warm in my tummy-tum-tum. Are there warm salads?

I am The Busy these days. Bzz bzz bzz. It makes me slightly manic, which is sometimes good and sometimes aggravating. To wit, I bought a movie while I was in the States that I really want to see, and though I have actually put it in the DVD player and turned it on and started to watch it, I could NOT SIT STILL and had to turn it off until further notice. Antsy. Ants in my pantsy. Drr. And I really want to see it. But the kids were talking and the dryer was running and the dishwasher ditto and I just couldn't concentrate.

A lot of what I am thinking about these days is my friend who is struggling through a rough time with a husband undergoing chemo treatments for leukemia. I cannot stop worrying about them. I cannot stop thinking about how fragile EVERYTHING is. Or what I would do if it was me (curl up in a ball. Scream.) It's a horrible, awful, chilling nightmare of a thing. Worse: a friend with cancer, a spouse with cancer, yourself? GAH. I need a brain scrub.

I miss choir. And singing. Yet I am relieved at not having it as a commitment every week.

A colleague who was in the States last week dropped 2 bags of Reese's miniatures off in my office this afternoon. Talk about making my day! Mmmmm...Reese's!

Thought: I think Facebook makes bloggers lazy.

There. *nods and dusts hands*

How often should you post, when you blog? Should you post every day? Every couple of days, every week, once a month? I know that when some of my favorite writers are posting daily it feels like Christmas every day to me. But, sometimes it seems that if I post too often people don't have time to read it all or that they miss things, and only see the latest. How much is too much? Does it even really matter?

I suppose it is the writing urge that should steer and not the desire for validation or comments. I don't have a stats meter on each post, so I don't have any real idea how many people are actually reading, unless they leave a comment. I don't expect people to respond to every post or comment on every post, by any means. Goodness knows: I don't. There are many blogs I read that I never, or at least very rarely, comment on, for one reason or another. But I suppose I do make more effort for people I have become close to. Even some little smile or nod of acknowledgment means something, at least I know it does to me. This isn't fishing for comments, honestly. I get this curious feeling of weirdness about the way this online interaction works every so often. This blogging thing screws with your head.

I write because I want to see my words come alive. I write because I want to get better at writing. My writing voice becomes stronger with every sentence I pluck from my (often) seething brain and pin down. I don't normally write to vent or gush or unload in this space. It's not about that for me. I admit that I think, probably much too often, about my audience, as I write. Will what I am thinking about today be interesting? Will anyone care about what I have to think or say or feel? How can I write it down in such a way as to touch a chord in YOU, my reader? How can we connect?

Often the posts that engender multiple comments are the ones I think are complete throw-aways. Tossing a bunch of words out there and mixing them up like salad often turns up surprising results. It's a virtual crap shoot. Snake eyes! Baby needs a new pair of shoes!

Yesterday I talked to my mom, on an international connection, for TWO hours. I forget I have Skype. So stupid. But the phone bill, and in conjunction, the internet bill, are two bills I NEVER mind paying. They're always worth it, for what they give me. I called her, and we talked for an hour. Then I realized how much time had gone by, but we were in the middle of something, so I blurted, "Hey! Call me back!" and she did and we talked for another hour. It was just what I needed: catching up, talking through, laughing a lot, and getting some clear advice and help with a decision I've been batting around for awhile.

How often should you call, when you're far apart? The answer is probably the same as with writing and blogging: as often as you can.

*Title from a quote by William Plomer

Findus, along with Martin and Karin, is VERY excited to announce the winner of the Great Plush Animal Purge Contest 2009!

You all have a lot more faith in my ability to get rid of things than I do: reebert guessed a whopping 12 bags! ms_hackman guessed 24 but I suspect she wasn't really seriously trying to win another stuffed animal. :D

Lizardmom and hi_from_sheryl got a bit closer with 9 and 8 respectively, but blog lurker Carolina hit the nail on the head with her answer: 5 bags! Yay!



The tiebreaker, which wasn't needed, was 2 kept and 2 discarded.

Carolina! I need your address, please, so that I can send Findus to you. :) You can leave it in the comments or email me at lizardek a t livejournal.com

Thanks, everyone, for playing along!

The Great Plush Animal Purge of 2009 is over and lo! We have all survived. In the playroom we have a huge round basket. It's big enough for both kids to get into and hunch down. It was STUFFED full (ha! get it?) of stuffed animals. In addition, Martin had an hanging toy storage unit that was full of stuffed animals in each of 6 compartments. AND both kids have a half dozen or so of their very favorites in their beds. All in all, I suspect we had well over 150 stuffed animals of various sizes and cuteness.

If you haven't yet had kids or have very small ones, it's not too late! Here's a big tip for you: DON'T BUY THEM STUFFED ANIMALS. Especially if they are girls. The damn things are nearly impossible to get rid of. They're so CUUUUUUUUUUUUTE. I should know. I still have several of my own, though in my defense I have managed to divest myself of MANY over the years and now I am down to 1 very large teddy bear, 1 Steiff pig, 1 Steiff cat (which lives with my mom), 1 knitted alligator, 1 Eeyore, 1 Wild Thing, and a very beat-up bright orange lion whose stuffing is coming out, that I won at Liseberg during my first trip to Sweden with Anders many years ago. Oh, and a dozen moose, give or take a few, that camp out permanently in the moose bathroom. But that's all, I swear! (I'm pretty sure that the few I had left from childhood that were in a box in my mom's basement are now disposed of...)

The kids recently told me what amounted to a horror story: their best friends, the twins Sandra & Maritza, got back from vacation with their dad this past week to find out that their mom had gotten rid of ALL their stuffed animals in their absence except ONE EACH. Whoa! They gave me very accusing looks as they related this nightmare and of course I held it over their heads all week, telling them they HAD to help reduce the zoo or face the same thing. Muahahahahaha!

So, today, amid some mild protests, we threw the entire pile of animals out into the middle of the playroom floor, and I proceeded to lift, demand judgement, and pitch them as quickly as possible. The key: don't look into their eyes! They can SMELL FEAR.

The kids were really good about it, actually, and the pile quickly diminished. The basket is, I'm resigned to report, still full to the brim, BUT it's not packed down and it's not STUFFED full and I think overall, we did a pretty darn good job of purging. Turns out we had TWO Findus dolls. Findus is the cat that you see up there in my header and in the icon I used for this post; he's been my mascot since I started this journal, and if you haven't already discovered them for yourself, I can highly recommend the Pettson & Findus books by Sven Nordqvist. Even for adults, they are a treasure, and especially for adults who love children's books and wonderful whimsical artwork.

AND he's going free to a good home! If you guess how many large full paper grocery bags of plush animals are going to the annual Flyinge Flea Market, he's yours! Standing, he's nearly a foot tall; a jointed/movable cotton cat with a green beanie cap and removable suspender shorts. The contest closes Friday evening at 6 p.m. Central European Summer Time.

Also, my seester is disqualified on account of how she knows the answer.

Tiebreakers: Muckles are small creatures that inhabit the world of the Pettson & Findus books, which only Findus can see. How many plush mucklor did we a) keep and how many did we b) discard?

Put your best guess and your tiebreaker answers in the comments! Good luck!

moose
word origins
leaves
sleeping in
reading a good trilogy
playing games
my grandmother's gingersnaps
finding a new artist
velvet
unpredictable movie endings
belly laughs
lily of the valley
spice cake
getting mail
hugs from my family
sushi sushi sushi!
being helpful
CATS
knowing the answers to questions
wikipedia
singing silly songs
deviled eggs
antique markets
bright blue skies
magpies
poetry that lights your head on fire
ordering books
browsing bookstores
a stack of much anticipated books to read
my bookworms book group
the smell of freshly-baked bread
the smell of freshly-cut grass
cinnamon sugar toast
clean sheets on a freshly made bed
Christmas tree ornaments
German pretzels
unexpected phone calls from friends
talking to my mom
4-part harmony
words with 3 or more syllables
road trips
Holland
mountain views
songs from musicals
crossing things off my to-do list
having no plans
having lots of plans
Callebaut filled chocolate bars
typography
font types
Napoleon lemon balls
anticipation
dictionary definitions
embroidery
tapestry
batik
castle ruins
storks
Christmas cookies
baby bunnies
fields of dandelions
really bad groaner puns
witty repartee
lilacs
popsicles
clementines
seedless grapes
music you can play over and over
walks on summer afternoons or evenings
instant obedience
downtime
making lists

One of my FB friends who is also a colleague commented at work this week that he couldn't believe how many books I read. "Do you REALLY read that many books? You read like one a day!" he exclaimed. "I don't watch TV.* I read 139.5 books last year," I replied, and left him gaping. I'm reading comfort books right now: just finished The Dark is Rising series and now have started on James Herriott's All Creatures Great & Small. I suspect it's because I need to find comfort anywhere I can these days, when worry fills so much of my mental landscape.

It's Anders' birthday today. :) I woke up at 5:25 a.m. and knew instantly that he was already awake. The man barely sleeps, I swear. His alarm usually goes off at 6 but mine doesn't normally go off until 6:45 so even though I rolled over and stuck my head under my pillow for another half hour, it's been a long day. At 6 I got up and snuck out, knowing he was STILL awake and pretending not to notice my sneakiness, and woke up the kids and then we came marching in with presents, singing happy birthday to him. This waking up of the birthday boy/girl is a Swedish tradition and not one I care for, honestly, what with the getting up early part. I suspect part of it is also my cultural inclination to have to wait to open presents until evening thus heightening the anticipation to a near frenzy. :P Anyway, my Swedie is another year better :) Happy birthday, honey! I love you!

When I came home from work today, there was a little package waiting for me. Hrm, I thought, what could that be? I haven't ordered anything, and it's not MY birthday. Turns out it was a blog friend being thoughtful and darling, as usual: Bethany sent me orange/lime Tic-Tacs because she somehow knows that I love the (have I written about them or something? it sure made me giggle!) orange ones and thought I'd like the lime ones, and she's right: I love them, too. Thank you, Bethany!

4 things I am wishing for right now:

• That my friends will conquer their illnesses and be better
• That bezigebij and jackiejj would come and turn my yard into a garden
• That my dearest, oldest friend will make it over this summer for our reunion in the Netherlands**
• That the sun will come out tomorrow! Bet your bottom dollar that tomorrow, there'll be sun!

Meg did another of her Friday Love Lists and I thought: Fun! Just what I needed. Something fun to think about, though I tweaked the list a bit. Play along, won't you? My answers are first in the comments. :)

1. Song you love
2. Book you love
3. Type of cuisine you love
4. Beverage you love
5. Cookie you love
6. Ice cream flavor you love
7. Place you love to go
8. Activity you love to do
9. Place you love to live
10. Time in your life you loved
11. Person you love
12. Body part (your own) that you love
13. Item of clothing you love most (that you own)
14. Way of relaxing you love best

Brimming Barrelfuls of Birthday Wishes to the much-missed Sheryl and Belated Birthday Wishes to big_bubba!

*Lie. I often watch TV on Friday nights or Saturday nights for myskväll depending on what's on. Just now it's Talang 2009.
**Ha! Hey Dutchies! Look! I said The Netherlands! Not Holland! Progress!

Interviewed the kids in this Facebook meme and wrote down their exact responses :) Apologies to those who've already seen it, but if I don't put it here it won't be in the yearbook.

Martin - age 11
Karin - age 9.5 going on 17

1. What is something mom always says to you?
M - Stop fighting!
K - Get a life

2. What makes mom happy?
M - When we do (stop fighting)
K - Hugs & kisses

3. What makes mom sad?
M - When we ignore her
K - If I don't want to be with her

4. How does your mom make you laugh?
M - I don't know, she's just weird
K - She says something funny

5. What was your mom like as a child?
M - Naughty
K - She looked like the one that played Laura Ingalls Wilder

6. How old is your mom?
M - 42
K - 33

(can't believe neither of them got this right! How hard is 29 to remember??)

7. How tall is your mom?
M - around 145 cm
K - I have no idea

8. What is her favorite thing to do?
M - Read
K - Write on her journal

9. What does your mom do when you're not around?
M - Party
K - Walk or write on her journal

10. If your mom becomes famous, what will it be for?
M - Getting the Nobel Prize in Weirdness
K - Inspecting moose

11. What is your mom really good at?
M - Being weird
K - Writing on her journal

12. What is your mom not very good at?
M - Basketball
K - Bouncing on the trampoline...just kidding. I don't know.

13. What does your mom do for her job?
M - Ads
K - She writes in different languages about cameras

14. What is your mom's favorite food?
M - Sushi
K - Sushi

15. What makes you proud of your mom?
M - I can't choose...there are so many things...*laughs*
K - She gave birth to me

16. If your mom were a cartoon character, who would she be?
M - Elmer Fudd
K - Daisy Duck

17. What do you and your mom do together?
M - Go for walks, have weird quizzes
K - tickle!

18. How are you and your mom the same?
M - We both hate licorice
K - We speak English

19. How are you and your mom different?
M - I'm a boy
K - She's an adult

20. How do you know your mom loves you?
M - She won't stop hugging me
K - Because she kisses me and hugs me and tickles me

21. Where is your mom's favorite place to go?
M - America
K - To bed

It's snowing like crazy outside. Fat white fluff-flakes floating dreamily down, down and around in the white light of the streetlights. The street is filled up with snow. Clifford the Big Red Rock has a sparkly white skullcap. The plants are hunkered down, puffed up with the white stuff. We've had snow on the ground for almost 2 weeks now, though really it hasn't been that much; it keeps melting down to a thin covering and then freezing. All the footprints in the yard: kid, dog, neighbor's cat, are softening at the edges and filling in. They'll have to stomp their snowy flattened paths all over again.

Everyone else all around the world got clobbered with snow early on. We just had grey. Snow makes everything whiter and brighter and sparkly. Ooo sparkly! Add that to the bright blue sky days, sunshine-filled with freezing temps we've had lately and that's just about the perfect winter weather for me. Sun and snow, who could ask for anything more?

***

Inside Joke at Work, Just For My Own Remembrance
Kristian sent me an email, groaning a bit about the awful DVD project he's working on (one that I very joyfully gave up to him when he was hired), telling me that he had changed his name to Sisyphus. And he had actually changed his email signature to sisyphus@axis.com; I laughed like a maniac. He and I are both struggling with monster projects and too much to do at the moment. I replied that I knew how he felt, as I was resembling Prometheus more and more everyday. The rock I'm chained to being the Technical Guide localizations and the damn eagle that is pecking out my liver every day is the Marcom-Helpdesk that he and I handle (all the million marketing tasks that flood in every day from our subs, and which I've been trying to be front line on this week so that he could get somewhere on his project). So now he's signing off on emails to me as SiSS and I'm signing off on mine to him as PRO. Hee!

***

The kids spent last night at farmor & farfar's and tonight, too, and spent the whole day today out sledding (see above: snow). But this evening Karin called me up with a trembly voice to say that she'd just thrown up. After initial sympathizing and confirmation that she didn't want me to come pick her up and that she didn't think she was going to hurl again, I asked her, with a note of trepidation, where? "In the living room," she replied, sounding very guilty. "Oh, honey!" I exclaimed, "Couldn't you have made it to the toilet?" No, she told me. "My mouth just exploded."

Poor unlucky farmor was cleaning up the mess, though apparently it wasn't that much, but STILL. I'm simultaneously feeling very guilty that I'm so glad I'M not having to clean up vomit and incredibly sorry for farmor. Though, she WAS a nurse, so maybe it doesn't bother her as much as it bothers me.

***

There was more, but I'm stopping now and taking myself off to bed with a book that I suspect I've read before a million years ago (niggling familiar feelings) and am not enjoying all that much now. However, it's for book group and it's not quite (yet) reached the point of awfulness at which I will actually stop and put it in the giveaway bag without finishing it. I keep thinking SOMETHING'S got to happen soon, and the jacket blurb backs me up: someone's gonna kick the bucket and I'm greedily hoping it's ALL of these oblivious, self-centered, vapid women or their stuffed-shirt, insufferable, chauvinist men, though I know only one of the characters, sadly, will actually get the ax.

Sometimes when you are reading a book and a character dies, there is an actual jolt of complete horror and disbelief and then anger at the author for daring to do such a thing: how could they??! But in this book there is no one I wouldn't be rather pleased to see knocked off. I'm feeling very bloodthirsty, apparently, and since I can't kill anyone at work, aggravating fictional characters will have to do. DIE! DIE!