Monday, July 14, 2008

I had the weirdest dream last night. I was out travelling in space and somehow got tagged by a planet. For some reason I knew it was Jupiter. It’s just that in my dream it was green in a sort of dentist, minty, chewing gum sort of way, and I’m pretty sure it doesn’t look like that in real life.


Anyway, I landed on one of its moons, which surprisingly enough had quite a lot going for it. For a start they had streets with London double deck buses (oh, but green ones…) and even tiny little London mail boxes. (They were green though.)

But for some reason this planet, Jupiter, kept following me around wherever I went, and in the end it became a bit annoying. It was really big so it felt a bit scary and imposing constantly having it over my shoulder. I tried to explain this, in a polite, yet firm way, but with no success.

Oh, yeah, this is normal…

It went so far that I even managed to suppress my fear of aliens and ended up asking one for help. It was some grey little man with huge black eyes and he was sitting in a sofa, relaxing, in the room I was staying in.

-“Look, I need your help. I don’t really know what to do, but something has to be done. It can’t continue like this. Out of order, really…”
-“Yeah? Sure. I understand. Um…what exactly, though? What’s the problem?”

Me sighing, rolling my eyes:
-“Look out through the window…”
-“Mmm…yeah, there’s a…there’s a planet outside.
(Now looking confused:)
-“But why is this a problem exactly?”
-“Because it’s following me!! And it’s not listening to me. It just refuses to see sense! And I thought, well, you being extraterrestrial and all, it might be easier for you to get through to it?”

But the alien didn’t really understand. He almost looked as if he thought I was crazy (and a little bit irritated as if I was wasting his time). It was almost beginning to feel surreal.

In the end I decided the only way was to have a one to one with him.

-“Look, I’m flattered, I really am. You look great and I’m sure you’ve got a fantastic personality. You’ve clearly got a great sense of humor… But it just wouldn’t work out in the long run. You know, me being a girl and you being a…PLANET and all. We’re just too different! That’s all there is to it, I promise. If it wasn’t for that, well, then I would have been happy to go out with you, but you know, it just wouldn't be practical...
Listen it’s not you – it’s me! But I’m sure there’s some nice lady-planet out there somewhere that you will find if you’re just patient…”


He still refused to see my point, so in the end I got on my ship and went back to Earth (in a quick and discrete way so that he wouldn’t be able to follow).

And all well that ends well I guess – at least I’m back!
It’s the national day of France!


Haven’t been back to Paris for quite some time actually. Went to St Malo and Le Mont Saint Michel with Joanna and Esther last Easter, but not to Paris.

If I was in Paris today I’d probably get a picnic and go to Parc de Bercy. I love that park. It’s absolutely magical. In a way it doesn’t really make sense. It’s the sort of park you’d dream up or fantasise about, but wouldn’t expect to exist in reality.


In fact, thinking about it, I think most of my favourite places in most cities involve parks in some way or another. When I was in New York I completely fell in love with Central Park and I tried to spend at least a short time every day in there. It’s absolutely gigantic! And I just loved the Swedish cottage! :D


In fact there is one area in there, that really makes you feel as if you’re in Sweden. It’s got a little pine forest with tiny cliffs scattered around and it smells just divine. I spent a whole afternoon there, just reading, sunbathing, having lunch.

And unfortunately I can’t say London has got anything to match it. I’ve been whinging about this for something that probably feels like an eternity, but they still haven’t sorted it out! Hyde Park is boring. Yeah, sure, they’ve got a little lake, but so what – I’ve seen sinks more exciting than that. The only nice places in there is The Italian Gardens and Lady Dianas fountain (cos you’re allowed to “swim” in it!). But…well, that somehow isn’t enough.




But whatever, what’s the point in having nice parks in a city where it only rains anyway? I can see the logic.

Anyway – Vive la France! ;-)

Friday, July 11, 2008

Friday and almost a whole week of detox and veggie diet is over. The weird thing is that it feels pretty good. I’m not particularly bothered. There’s nothing of the things that I can’t have that I feel that I desperately need or want.

Oh, actually, yes there is. Or was. I’ve had several cups of coffee. In fact, I’m having my third cup of the week right this very moment.


But so what! Leave me alone. I wanna see you have cabbage for breakfast before having a go at me. It would be worse if I went out tonight drinking mojitos, eating peanuts or nachos, no?

Yes, I’m having a coffee and I’m enjoying it. And you can’t stop me.

But catastrophe hit at lunch. I’ve got a favourite salad. It’s frisee, lamb lettuce, spinach and tiny pieces of shredded beetroots together, and the best thing is you get it in a bag, already mixed and properly washed. You just have to load it up on the plate. Easy life.


I had it with some tomatoes, mozzarella and a baked potato with cheese. Lovely. Then in the middle of the meal I suddenly found something that looked alarmingly close to being a dead bug. A thing like that can seriously traumatize a person. Probably even paralyse you if you’re of a more delicate nature.

I mean, the thing is, if you buy salad in a plastic, sealed bag, you want to believe that it’s so clean it’s probably been sterilized and hand checked for intruders. When you buy salad, or anything else for that matter, that is sealed, then you’re not so much buying convenience as you’re buying safety! And this bubble of safety had now been burst! And my problem is that I’m not completely sure of how to get back into it – that bubble! It’s a problem, I’m telling you.

To be fair, the bug did look suspiciously similar to a piece of lettuce…

But you just can’t be sure. Unless you taste it. And I wasn’t prepared to do that.

A similar thing happened about six months ago when a small moth flew into the oil while I was making pop corn and got deep fried (and served) together with them. I didn’t get over that until…………..….I still haven’t got over that.

You see? Bubble. Burst. Trauma.



Maybe I’ll be able to deal with it better after another cup of coffee? Seems only reasonable.

Thursday, July 10, 2008

In Sweden there’s a supermarket chain called ICA. It’s similar to Tesco. Sort of.


I’ve always felt a bit sorry for people working at the tills in supermarkets cos it must be so incredibly tedious and boring, but at least the guys doing so in Sweden have found a way to amuse themselves, probably to make work go a little faster.

Either that or they are incredibly DUMB.

Those are the only two alternatives that could possibly make out a logical explanation.

Basically, you have to be above the age of 18 to buy cigarettes and low alcohol beer (up to 3,5%) and above 21 for the strong stuff. And the stores are entitled to ask you for ID to make sure they’re not selling these things to minors.

Yeah, fine, ok.

But now there have been multiple complaints from seriously pissed off people all over the country!

For example, one man, 77 years of age hadn’t been allowed to buy two bottles of beer for a dinner party he was going to.

-“I felt it was a bit embarrassing and disrespectful having a 17 year old demanding that I prove my age to him”, he explained. “He told me that was the only way he could be completely sure that I was over 18…”.

The guy in question had replied to the paper:

-“I was simply doing my job. I just wasn’t 100% sure about this particular person…he looked really young for his age!”

Another man, I think his name was Björn, who was 58, wasn’t allowed to buy cigarettes. Had he brought his ID? No, no he had not. So off he was forced to go…

There was a picture of a bald, chubby man with a grizzled beard and a slightly angry face.

-“Does this look like a face that was born yesterday?!!?!”
He was not a satisfied costumer.

Then there was a woman, 63, who had wanted to get a scratch card. You have to be 18 to play. You can guess what had happened…

When I was in Stockholm with Joanna in September I had to show my passport to buy a few cans of beer. But I wasn’t complaining. Hey, if that woman thought I looked like I was 20 years old, who the hell am I to complain!!! :-D
Wednesday 9th of July.


I just had a startling revelation. A rather chocking and uncomfortable one as well actually. And I’m beginning to worry whether I’ll ever be able to let it go.
I think that I’ve just witnessed a definite sign of myself “growing up”, even if ever so slightly!

Every summer I’ve been obsessed with Big Brother. Every year I’ve tried to fight it, only to have found myself getting helplessly sucked back in again. I’ve even been known to vote!!


Sometimes when I went out on Friday nights (eviction nights), I even asked people if they happened to know who got the boot. I mean, that’s pretty serious devotion, that is!

This year – I. Couldn’t. Possibly. Care. LESS!!!

I mean, come on – that means I’ve grown up, right? That I’m now that fully fledged adult I’ve always avoided and dreaded to become. After realising this, I’m not really sure of what to expect next.

To be completely honest with you, there have been other alarming signs as well. I’ve begun to enjoy documentaries! Who the hell in their right frame of mind would voluntarily utter words like that??! I’ll tell you who! An ADULT, that’s who!! Do you understand me now? My fear? My worries?
(I especially enjoyed one about costal erosion, which had me absolutely absorbed! And then there was one, once, about how to build your own boat…fascinating stuff - fascinating!!)

Today, things got worse. I was in Tesco to buy some bean burgers (what else?) and found myself, as usual, strolling past the magazine shelves (well, it’s pretty difficult to avoid them since they’re just by the entrance and you literally can’t get past them without at least shooting them a glance).

Heat magazine comes out every Wednesday. And therefore every Wednesday I’m ending up experiencing something very close to romantic euphoria when I find a new glossy copy on the shelf in front of me. This normally never fails. I’m a loyal costumer.


But today – I felt..well, close to nothing, really! Yes, obviously I BOUGHT it (I mean, let’s not get ridiculous here) but then just earlier after coming home, instead of immediately throwing myself on the sofa reading it thoroughly, I just glanced in it for a few minutes while waiting for the oven to heat up. Then I threw it on the floor (in a neat and organized way). This is UNHEARD of!!! And I still haven’t felt an inkling of an urge to pick it up again!

And…gulp – I’m not even sure where it is (I think it might be underneath some other neatly thrown things like papers and maps and flags and stuff).

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Or, you know, maybe it’s just something I’ve eaten that has effected me in a weird way! Come on, I’ve been living off vegetables for days for a start! Maybe this is what being a vegan does to you?

I feel a bit calmer now. I had some cheese earlier so literally my vegan days are now over. I’m a vegetarian now. I feel there’s still hope. Well, sort of…I still don’t fancy watching Big Brother!! (But on the other hand, there’s a pretty thrilling programme about sea gulls on the other channel…………aaarrrrghhhhhhhhh!!!!)
Tuesday 8th of July

This is going to be a pretty boring week, I can tell you that already. I’ve decided to have a detox week and it started yesterday. It’s good for you and everyone should do it now and again, but FUN it is not!


I reckoned this would be the perfect time to do it since last week was particularly unhealthy! Me and seven others went to Rimini in Italy, and for some reason decided to drink our own weight in alcohol. But oh, was it fun…

We started with a champagne breakfast on the train to Stansted at 7:30 in the morning. Then I was actually sensible enough to wait until we got there, but most of the others drank their way through the airport and the flight. Then we were straight off to the beach for some sea, sun and more drinking. The whole trip was pretty much one long party.

The plan – my plan - had at first been to go to San Marino the next afternoon for a couple of hours, and I managed to convince about four of the others to come along. Did it happen? No, obviously not. (Actually the guys had been knocking at our door and kept texting us to wake us up in order to go but,..nah….:-))

At some point during the night I had woken up, feeling that the bed was too warm and deciding that the floor looked so much cooler and comfortable, so I hopped off and continued sleeping beside it! Then Nicola woke up a bit later, looking around herself, wondering where the hell I was. The door to the toilet was open, so I clearly couldn’t have been in there. Maybe I’d gone to get something or gone to breakfast? Then suddenly she realised that she could hear someone breathing…
I’ve been laughing so incredibly much about this! You wake up alone in a hotel room, seeing that noone is there, but you can hear breathing… It’s like a scene from a horror movie!!! :-D
But you know, I can still remember how SENSIBLE my choice to move to the floor felt – then and there! It’s incredible..

I’m still waiting for one specific photo Nicola asked someone to take of all of us on the beach that was just fantastic. Everyone is looking so happy. Happy and drunk! Ill post it when I get it.

The second day we were out until sunrise, going swimming after having been to a fantastic bar by the beach. Then we went home to continue the party until about 8:30……………and then we had to check out at 10! To be honest, it was such a fantastic couple of days - really, really good, but when I finally got home from the whole journey - from the hotel in Italy back to my bed in London – I was so happy I was floating on little clouds! I was exhausted!

So as I said, there really isn’t any time more appropriate for detox than now, really!

I’ve spent two days eating miso, wonton and cabbage and beetroot soup now, and it’s beginning to bug me a bit. That’s for sure. And I’ve bought every detox drink in the supermarket – acai smoothies, milk thistle water, teas with herbs I didn’t know existed… But so far it feels good. I do have to say I miss coffee though. I spent several minutes this morning just smelling the coffee jar, and I was close, very close to making myself a cup. But I didn’t.

But I mean, I’m not complaining. There are exciting stuff in the pipeline here. I mean, now I’ve been vegan for two days (and even made enough cabbage soup to last for breakfast tomorrow. THAT’s something to look forward to, I tell you!), and tomorrow I’ll be a much more comfortable vegetarian!
It’s a big difference, trust me! Me and Joanna were vegans for a week last year, and that taught us both quite a lot. There are so many really tasty things you can get if you’re a vegetarian! Delicious nut roasts, leek and cheese sausages, bean pies… But if you’re a vegan, you’re pretty much screwed. Or at least totally left to your own devices! The only problem with being a vegetarian is probably restaurants, I’d say, cos they often have a pretty lame sortiment of veggie alternatives. It’s salad every time, or if you’re lucky – a piece of courgette lasagne or so.

So I think the plan is to stay vegetarian for another eight days, then go get a steak!

Yep..that’s the..that’s the plan.

(Do I sound bored? About the prospects? Cos I am! If you reckon that I sound like I’m pulsating with enthusiasm here, I’m telling you, you’ve really misinterpreted my signals…:-))

Monday 30th of June


Earlier today I was on my way to the swimming pool. I was in a hurry and a bit irritated. I’ve forgotten about what.


On my way out through the front door, I, for some reason or another, stumbled over the threshold and somehow managed to FLY through the entrance.

FLY through the entrance…

I would have deserved to wear a cape. With an S on it. Let’s put it that way.

A few meters away was a girl who started to laugh like there was no tomorrow.
I told you I was already annoyed, and this chick wasn’t helping…

-“You think this is funny? You think this is FUNNY??!”

I was getting seriously annoyed, but calmed down pretty fast cos I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone looking so apologetic while laughing that hysterically at the same time.

-“Hahaha…I’m soooorryy..hahahaha.hahaha..but you just looked so funny..haha…just like a CARTOON!!!!”

-“Mhmm!”

-“Haha…so funny..haha…don’t be angry..hahaha…I can’t help it..”

-“Hm.”

-“Can’t you just..haha..do it again so I can…hahaha…tape it on my phone and…haha..put it on YouTube?”

-!!!!!!!!

Wafer thin ice.


Now I’ve got a bruise the size of an orange on my leg – and I’m going to the beach in Italy on Thursday. All I need now is a gigantic lollipop and I’ll look like a slightly oversized INFANT! Hilarious. Maybe I should dress up as a scout?

And I was going to the pool. And it was very close to bleeding and quite obviously they wouldn’t let me swim with a bleeding wound!! My mood could have been better…

(But after getting undressed I actually wasn’t bleeding. Obviously I wouldn’t have gone into the pool otherwise. I’m a hygienic person thank you very much!)

And swimming, surprisingly enough, didn’t improve matters much. For some unknown reason the air smelt like perfume.

And I’m sure you’re going “Yeah, but perfume is nice, Evelyn, just give in…”, but it wasn’t a nice smell. It wasn’t a nice perfume! It smelt like something a very old lady would buy. No, actually, it smelt like something a very old lady would buy, then give away after she’d seen sense. And then the other lady, the one who would have received it, would put it away, far away, in some locker. This was the REJECT of “Old Lady perfumes”! And it was absolutely overwhelming (well, they normally are..!)

And even more annoyingly, in the already closely packed lanes, there was a guy clogging up the whole line of swimmers. You see, if you can’t swim, you use the lane to the side, together with toddlers and various inflatable sea creatures. But I think this guy actually thought that he could. I think he genuinely thought he was doing it the right way.
He threw himself forward, took about three strokes and then, just before drowning, he stood up again to do some stretching and gasping. The rest of us turned into domino bricks. Over and over and over again.

In the end one of the guards come running over to the edge of the pool shouting:

-“What the hell are you doing”?!
-“Um…swimming”, he replied rather optimistically.
-“Oh no, you’re not! I’m asking you again – what the hell are you doing?”
-“Um…TRYING to swim…sir”?


It was hilarious. He had every single eye in the whole pool on him and even him being in a pool and all, I could have sworn I could see him sweating!

-“No, you’re not! You’re looking stupid. Do you think this is your bath tub”??

(To be honest, I really don’t think he’d ever thought that it was.)

I had to hide half of my face underneath the water because I laughing so much. It was priceless. Trust me, you’d have to be there to understand.

So why was I laughing?

Because he looked like a complete and utter idiot, of course!!!
Probably almost as much of an idiot as I had about an hour before!
I’ve learnt a lesson. ;-)



PS. Everyone is still going on about Wimbledon, and I haven’t got a cluuue about who’s who this year! But I was there with my neighbour Martina two years ago, which was great! Saw the end of the ladies final at centre court, took a few pics of Lady Thatcher and had some Pimms. Was a good day! :-)