Earthcake!

Earthquake this morning in southern Sweden. I woke up, my bed was shaking pretty badly, the acoustic guitar on my wall was making sounds. They say it was somewhere between 4.5 and 5 on the Richter scale. Which is badass for lil ol' Sweden. We were pretty much taught that there couldn't be earthquakes here. In your face, seismologists!

Switzerland is a bunch of thieves...

I am having a bad time with technology again. Especially computers. They are my sworn enemies. The big one is having fits every now and then and decides to crash down whenever I do something important or when I am in a hurry.
Benjamin the Mac laptop gave me shocks yesterday when we recorded Chucow. Screwed up my left hand pretty badly.
Where are those mountains I desperately needed a few months ago?


... That's right, Switzerland stole them. According to Brent. If you listen to Chucow you'll get what he meant.

Literature is good for you, kids.

Figured I'd share our book list. You know the English novels I've been raving about lately? Here they are:

"Things Fall Apart" by Chinua Achebe
"The Color Purple" by Alice Walker
"Angela's Ashes" by Frank McCourt
"A Farewell to Arms" by Ernest Hemingway
"My Place" by Sally Morgan
"About a Boy" by Nick Hornby
"The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie" by Muriel Spark
"Death of a Salesman" by Arthur Miller
"Oranges Are Not the Only Fruit" by Jeanette Winterson
"The Great Gatsby" by F. Scott Fitzgerald


They are all great works of literature. I can seriously say I enjoyed reading all of them. Some have become favorites.
If you are looking for some good classics, pick one of these.
If you have read some of these books, I would love to hear what you thought.

Boom!

I've been having the feeling for a while now that I'm about to fail everything. That everything will crumble around me and I will be considered a failure in other people's eyes because I can't do anything right.
The thing is though that I don't care. I don't mind. If I'd fail everything, it would just be... unfortunate, you know? But it wouldn't kill me.

I've been through enough to be able to seperate small things from big things. Failing everything would be a big thing, sure. But I just can't bring myself to being worried, or feeling miserable. I've felt miserable enough for all the bloody small things in the past, things that now wouldn't even touch me in the back, but I guess my priorities were fucked up then. I won't feel bad about anything now. So failing is not such a big deal.

I don't seriously believe I'll fail everything. It's just how I feel, but I know it won't actually happen. Even if a part of me might wish that it would - it would kind of be an opportunity to start fresh - I'm pretty sure it won't happen. If it does, I'll let you know.
I'm just feeling weird. Everything smells and tastes weird. I don't really know where to go, because I don't know where I want to go.

Other aspects of my life are great right now. I'm having the greatest time getting to know lovely people. It has always been the most important thing to me.
So it's tiring. Feeling two opposite things at the same time. I think it's restlessness. As always, I'm just waiting for that big thing that will change my life.

Everything.

I was at the local bookstore today, and spotted a huge book containing flight photos of New York. The price was very reasonable - though I would have been ready to pay pretty much for a book like that since I consider the New York skyline to be one of the most amazing views in the world - so I went over to the register to pay. It was the man who owes the shop who was behind the counter. His name is Daniel, he's had the bookstore for years, since I was little. He has an Irish wolfhound, the dog usually hangs around the shop but not today.
Daniel thought that I'd picked a great book and immediately started browsing through it, trying to find pictures of the Twin Towers. He told me that the book had photos of both before and after 9/11. He asked me if I'd ever been to New York. I told him I had, last summer. He said he had never been anywhere near New York, but he knew where it was.
We discussed the city and what it is that makes it so appealing. We even discussed migration laws and work permits.
He couldn't find the photos of the Twin Towers, but when I came home I looked through the book. There is even a picture of the actual plane crash into one of the buildings.

I guess Jane has rubbed off on me. I love it when you can strike up a conversation with a stranger, or someone you haven't really spoken to before even though it's someone you've seen around all your life.

Daniel asked me: "So what does New York have that Kristianstad doesn't?"

The answer is: Everything.

So very nice.

We were discussing the ten English novels we're reading at uni this morning. My friend really disliked Hemingway's A Farewell to Arms, while I quite liked it. I was saying that I had liked all of the novels we've read so far, stating that I am obviously a "book whore".
And then comes Peter saying: "You're at least half of it."

Ha ha. (Notice how much I meant that. And yes, that is sarcasm.)
And that comes from a 40-year-old.

I can make a sound that no one makes, but you won't listen.

Friday night we interviewed The Hollywood Kills for Chucow Radio. We had so much fun we ended up talking for two hours. Great, great guys - if you have a chance you should definitely go see them playing a show.
A roughly edited interview (obviously we couldn't have all of two hours in a show) is in the new episode of Chucow. You know where the link is.

What else is new? I've realized how much literature reading I have to do in the coming week, I'm slightly breaking down. I can't read for too long without falling asleep. So this'll be a hard one, but it'll be managed. Or I'll flunk, so what choice do I have really. 'Tis life.

Driving home after staying up all night talking to Nashvillers about chocolate and politics with a New Zealand accent, is not the best idea. (They do the best friggin Murray-impersonations, you know the guy from Flight of the Conchords. It's hilarious.)

I have to go do something else now. I don't think I can cope staring at more words without losing it like Jean.

Anarchy in the UK

We have the most wonderful English history teacher at the university. Her name is Jane. The best part about her is that she's not Swedish, nope, she's British. Which scoops up the credibility of the whole course, to say the least.

Every time we have history, she always tells us about some anecdote she's experienced herself. First I might mention, she's one of those people who strikes up a conversation with everyone and anyone, complete strangers or not. Every time she's flying, she ends up talking to the person next to her for the whole trip, which is hours long (she mostly travels to China). Once she started talking to an old man, and after a while she straight out asked him if he was Catholic, which he was. They had a very nice conversation about religion (Jane is not Catholic).

Her aunt and uncle live in the States, in Seattle to be more exact. So she has also spent a lot of time in America, which is often brought up these weeks when we're on American history on our course.

Once she was visiting the Martin Luther King Museum in Atlanta. She was walking in with a friend, and saw a black man lying on the ground.
"Oh my God, he's dead!" she said.
And her friend said: "Oh don't worry, he's only black."
Jane was appalled by this answer.

Today, as we were discussing the Berlin Wall, she told us about a man who was hiding Germans from the east side of Berlin to smuggle them over the border into the west side.
He was driving a van, and had a big couch in it, with room behind it where people could hide. He had driven over the border lots of times, and this particular day he decided to get a whole family out. The wife was heavily pregnant. There was also a young son, and the father.
The man had his own son with him in the front passenger seat, to make things less suspicious.

When they were getting closer to the border, the young son behind the couch started screaming out of fright. The only solution the driving man could find, was to slap his own son really hard in the face, so that he would start screaming and therefore cover the noise coming from the back of the van.
This is a true story.

I'm endlessly fascinated by Jane and all her stories. It's so much more interesting to listen to someone who has actually been there and done that.

She's also teaching us about literature - we've got ten English novels to read this term, and write a reading journal as we do so. Jane prefers to get the journals handwritten and not a computer printout, because "journals and notes should be living things, I want to see the red wine stains and the smeared chocolate on the pages, and notice how your handwriting changes". She also encourages us to mark with pens in the books while we read them (obviously not if they're library books: that's why you should get your own copy) - you should be able to see that the book has been read.
All of this is just a wonderful way of thinking, if you ask me.

I feel really lucky to know her, such an inspiring person.

Goddamnit, my tea's cold now.

I've been trying for a while now to come up with something new to blog about (and wow, coming from me - I am so not a blogger, I can't even keep a diary for chrissake), but it has seemed kind of pointless. Why? It's not really that nothing has happened. Lots have happened.

I'm stranded educationally. Found out that the course I'm currently taking at univeristy won't have a B level available next term, so what to do? There are no good courses next term. I told Peter - this really nice guy from Bristol who I'm taking the course with - that I feel like I've been fired. And he added: "And you don't know why." True. I am truly left stranded here, I'm not really sure what to do. I don't worry though since I believe everything will work out, but it's annoying nevertheless.

I've found myself in a creative wave. It's nice.

And then there's all the stuff I do with the radio, and the filmmaking. But some things I don't talk about, how I send emails here and emails there and phonecalls all night and time differences and all that jazz. California, Arizona, Tennessee, Australia, London. The lurkers we lurk on and the plans we make. I never mention that here. I don't know if I'm just thinking it's personal or if I'm just lazy.

And then there's of course the worry of having cancer. And I'm not one to worry in general about something, so I have a reason but I'd rather not go into that here. I think talking about my boobs would definitely be considered too personal.

So, as I said - it's not like things don't happen. I just don't believe you're interested in all of it.

I am a total comic nerd

I just spent the evening reading 600 webcomic strips (one strip = one page). Now I have a headache and I can barely type on my keyboard. You have no idea how hard it was for me to type that sentence. And I have to get up early in the morning.

What am I doing with my LIFE.

You'll have to excuse me, I'm on a comic-high right now. Whoopee.

Get me a flight ticket, please

I haven't been out of the country in five months.

It's killing me.

Life?

I woke up this morning, thinking: "So this is when life starts".

I've realized that some of the things I desperately wanted for years, I do not want anymore. Things I've felt bad about not having, I do not care for them anymore. I do not wish to have them.

Now, left without that craving - what do I really want? I'm not sure. I don't care about certain things anymore. Things that used to be the only thing I had. The best thing I had. Now it might all be fading away, but that's not the worst part - if you would call it bad - no, the worst part is that I do not mind that they're slipping. It's just not that very appealing anymore, to have that.

I guess it's like falling out of love. It's just not something you need anymore.

But, fuck.

Then what is it I need? What is it I want?
I do not know anymore.

What?

I dug out my old CD singles today. I remember going into the record store to look at singles. I never buy singles anymore, it's albums or nothing. And I guess that the fact that the local record store burned down is also a reason I'm not buying singles anymore.

I found Modern Talking's "Sexy Sexy Lover". I used to play it all the time, which is ridiculous. 10-year old me didn't know what "sexy sexy lover" meant. I guess... I liked the beat? Hell, who knows. It's a mystery to me, my way of thinking back then.

The reason I got my old singles out is because I had an S Club 7 craving. Yeah, I was a devoted fan of S Club 7. Although I wouldn't call myself a fan since I consider myself to have been braindead until the age of 14 when I started feeling things and started thinking independently. So I'm pretty sure I didn't quite know how to be a fan, not the way I'm a fan of things nowadays anyway. However, I remember dancing in front of the TV to the musicvideo, together with my "little sister" - a girl we've supported and cared for from time to time since she was 5. She and her mom actually came to visit a few days ago. The girl's 14 now. I'm pretty sure she now sees me as out of my mind. Anyways. That dancing thing sounds pretty much like something a fan would do, no? I still can't really bring myself to believe I was thinking clearly enough back then. As you can notice, I don't really have much faith in my old self.

What I've gotten out of this day is the enormous relief and gratitude that I've improved my music taste since then. Tacka Gud för det.

Teeth

I've quite recently realized that Queen's songs and lyrics fit my life perfectly. It's insane. When I listen to their songs I get all the answers. The words describe how I'm feeling, and what my life is like. They explain my troubles, fears, joys and thoughts and put them into lyrics sung with bombastic melody.

It's scary to get a life-realization like that. It is also scary to be told something by your mother about your past, something you've either never realized or just forgotten completely. I might make it sound like something horrible, it's not that big of a deal.
What I've always known is that they had to pull out one of my front teeth when I was a baby, because my mother had taken an extra painkiller or whatnot and therefore wrecked her unborn baby's chance of getting two healthy front teeth. I basically had no enamel on one of them, or more correct; the enamel decomposed gradually, and soon I had a tooth without enamel - you can just imagine how nice that must be. I don't remember this of course, I was too young, I don't remember being taken to the dentist, and what I know about my dad holding my head and feeling it creak while they pulled the tooth out is something I've been told afterwards.
And, of course, this would result in me having only one front tooth for about 6 years of my early life, before the milk teeth were replaced by proper teeth. This is an easy conclusion, naturally. But still I heard it for the first time when my mom told me today.

I don't know why, I must have overseen that obvious thing. It has just never struck me before. And all the pictures of me being 1-6 years old, you can clearly see the gap where the missing tooth should have been, but no - I never figured. Never thought about it. I remember when I lost my (clearly only) front milk tooth. Just never remembered that there was already an empty space next to it, that shouldn't have been there to begin with. I'm not even sure I was aware of it back then, I mean, I must have been - but I probably didn't realize that I was different from everyone else.

That's also the reason that I got front teeth pointing straight out with 5 mm distance between them, and was forced to have braces for 2 of my early teenage years. The proper front tooth that was coming out, had no hole to go through since it had healed long time ago. So the new tooth decided to take its own way - straight out, never minding the rules.

Anyway. This is like I said not a big deal. But it's nevertheless scary to hear something about yourself, that you weren't aware of. It makes you wonder. Since when do other people know more about you than you do?

Should I expect "hyper" as a result of abusing energy drinks?

To get a better grip of the process of my storywriting, and indulge completely into the screenplay-way of thought, I've concluded some necessary and unnecessary actions to maintain the creative and inspirational focus.

I've dyed my hair brown to resemble my female main character, and get into her thinking. (Wonders what a hair color can do.)

I'm taking thousands of photographs with my Olympus, for the same reason as above.

I've been doing researches in the Holy Bible. (Didn't see that one coming, did you.)

I'm even dusting off my acoustic to get a feel of the whole project. And I can't play for shit.

All for the sake of the art that is screenwriting.

On another note, I've intentionally started a new addiction to energy drinks. I don't get much caffeine normally since I don't drink coffee unless it's Starbucks and is enjoyed out of the country (the closest one is located at the airport in Denmark's capital city) - so we'll see how this will go.
I need something to abuse and take unhealthy amounts of. I stopped drinking a year ago and haven't taken a sip of any alcoholic beverage in six months. I feel it creeping in on me; shutting out a part of my life that consumed me for months that turned into something resembling more like years was a good decision, but likewise - I fall too easily for addictions and now it's time for the supermarket bill to shoot through the roof.

Face it

A lot has changed. A lot of shit has come down.

It's pretty safe to say that I've never stood in front of such a radical change before. Times are a-changing. From my calculations though, most changes are good. But we'll see how things turn out.

My screen is really dusty. I need to clean it.

Another year

It's my 19th birthday today.

Yesterday I watched a video of my baptism. I was exactly two months old. A story that never ceases to be told is how I puked in my godmother's pocket just before the ceremony.
When watching the video, I couldn't help but feel freaked out by the sect-like sense during the ceremony. It creeped me out a little, but I guess that's just how it's done.

I've come to be really glad that I'm in fact baptised, and that I went through with my confirmation in church when I was 14. I'm not religious; I don't believe in God - but I respect any religion to a great extent, not just Christianity, but any religion. I can definitely see the comfort in having something to believe in. Many times I wish I had that, but I just can't bring myself to it, in the religious sense. I'll do best with just the faith in myself.

Last year - the first half of the year, was the worst time I've ever gone through. The second half of the year was the best time of my life. It's funny how things can change so rapidly; in my case, it was just one occurrence that changed everything, made my whole life take a different turn and suddenly I was at better times and having thoughts I never could've imagined.
This year, the first half already gone, has been very good also. If this keeps up through-out the whole year, I can call 2008 my best. So far.

The end of an era

I've had so much fun these last three years.
They've been the best years of my life and they have made me who I am today.

But everything comes to an end.

I graduated today.
I've gone to the best school in town, "C4 High" (ridiculous English translation but it's the best one I've come across). Studying media and majoring in motion picture. Constantly filming and editing and doing projects.
I'll miss it all.

I'm starting further English studies this fall, and will now be considered a "grown-up" as I attend schools that 80-year olds can study at if they wanted. Grown-up. Adult.
Adult? I still feel like a kid. Not that I expect some drastic felt change over night, but still. I've never been in this position before and it's, frankly, scary.

The graduation was nice. Lots of unexpected, non-prepared speeches by fellow classmates. Funny intermissions by a guy I've gone to school with in middle school and a guy/girl we seriously can't decide the gender on. Sad but true. It's a mystery and I don't know if we will ever find out.

The day after tomorrow we're gonna have the last relative-party, starring me as the centre of attention.
Thank God it's the last one. I hate gathering the family.
There's gonna be around 30 people coming - I still can't really believe that I know so many people who would be obligated to celebrate my graduation and birthday.

Today was the end of an era. The end of my familiar childhood.

The end of an era?

How about the start of something new. We'll just have to wait and see.

Hopeless rant

The whole goddamn internet is crashing down. I can't access shit.

Fuck it fuck it fuck it.

I should go up to the mountains and live like in the good old days before technology. Thing is we don't have any mountains around here.

Bäbisar (that's Swedish for babies)

Earlier today I was at a birthday party for my second cousin, who turned 25. That family has more babies popping out every year, constantly, grandchildren and sister's babies and so on. There were about five babies running around the place today, not one of them being one year old yet.

Here's the thing.

I sort of panic around babies.

There was this one kid who my dad was particularly fond of, who we were told had great puking tendencies. That was not helping. And when my dad decided to drop the kid off in my lap - I swear everyone there saw the fear in my eyes.
It occured to me, that I have like never held a baby in my life. I'm the youngest in my family, and all my cousins and relatives are way older than I am, except for a couple who are not that much younger. So, babies have never been in my life.

I recalled though that I once held a baby on the bus into town, for a short while. Her mother lives in my village and is living in exile, and when we were supposed to leave the bus she had a problem with a lady who was bugging her perambulator (or whatever) and she turned around to me and asked if I could hold her baby. Then she just gave me the girl before I could answer. There I was, on the bus, with an unknown baby in my arms. I don't know the mother. But the baby girl was cute. I suppose I think that because she didn't scream while I held her.

Anyways, I'm not too comfortable with babies. I just don't know how to handle them.

I need to go wash my hands. I have dried baby spit all over them. Ew.

One human year

Today is my youngest dog's birthday. Lotus is one year today. You can find him in Molly's Gallery of Dogs (on Dan San Souci's Clubhouse Books website): http://www.clubhousebooks.com/mollys_gallery.htm

As you can imagine, that pup is the most precious little creature in the universe if you ask me. But if he suddenly decides to bark through the whole night without reason, and keeping me awake in the process, I can alter to slightly annoyed. But I don't love him less. Besides, he's the perfect model when I'm getting to know my new camera.

I need a break from the world

Which totally contradicts all I wrote in my last post. But things change, and so do people.
I hate some people, and I miss others. Sometimes I hate the people I miss.

I've been working on a story, an idea I've had for a long time but haven't really gotten emotionally involved or ambitiously active with, and it's eating up my mind fast as hell. Every thought in my head is completely wrapped up in this story, and since I gather inspiration from everything I see in life, the ideas never stop coming. I need to straight it all out before it gets too much too handle.

Oh, I have received my first hater. At first I was just annoyed with how utterly stupid the person is and wished he would just leave me alone, but now I'm starting to embrace his disliking because with the future I plan for myself I will meet both lovers and haters of my work and me as a person. Suck it up, kid.

Helpless

You know what I hate?
Homophobia, racism and animal torture - but that's not what I'm going at here.

It's when I'm unintentionally - or intentionally? - cut off from the outside world. More precisely; when people fail to stay in touch with me.

I get paranoid very easily, living in Sweden, so far away from it all. This has never been where I want to be, this has never been where I belong. But I have to cope for the time being. So I do my best to interact with the other side, across oceans and skies. But every now and then, there's a pause in the interaction and I'm left alone in a sulky town in this end of the world.

I know that people can't prioritize me, and I've never asked for that. But I appreciate keeping contact. And I've always been a confirmation-whore, I'm the first one (and the only one) to say it.

I'm terrified to be forgotten, that's the truth. The greatest fear is being trapped and if I lose all my links I'm left disoriented. Because I know myself how hard it can be to connect with a person that you never see, and sporadic contact won't last forever. Most people have never even met me. How easy is it to grip a relation like that? You tell me.

The reason I bring this up now is because lately people have not kept their word. This is not about someone here in these blog-areas, I might mention. It's other people who promised certain things but decided to blow me off. It seems that everyone is just distancing themselves, without further notice. I'm just so sick of people ignoring me.

So for the love of the devil - don't forget about me! I hope you, all of you, will continue to interact with me, make my days brighter - it's because of you I stay hopeful and dreaming.

You've got me paralyzed

Early mornings result in falling asleep while standing.

I'm most of the time ridiculously bored, because I've grown accustomed to doing things - media, filming, radio, interviewing - and dealing with licenses and emailing managers and giving a sway approach and editing video promotion clips on demand and traveling on busses and planes to foreign countries and planning time, date and phone number-giving within 24 hours, and on top of it all serve as crew in my friends' film productions if needed.
So the weeks I don't have much of that, I tend to be restless.

Business is moving forward. Just two nights ago, Chucow Radio interviewed DJ Rossstar (phone interview, the longest distance call for both parts) and even if I prefer to interview people face to face, it went alright.
And we have more interview plans, with an American band, currently on tour.

So even if it seems like I have nothing to do these days, I have lots of things to keep me occupied. It's mostly about seeking the contact, which you can do anywhere, at any time.

To end things, I'm missing the comments on this blog. I'm pretty sure people still read it (you should know I still read your blog), but the comments have been left blank lately. For what it's worth, I appreciate them and could find myself slacking off on the blog phenomena if they continue to stay quiet. Not to threaten you or anything.

We are all MAD

"Planning for my big escape
Don't know where to yet
Thinking of Montreal..."

Yesterday I teamed up with my friends to be heads of motion media at the MAD-festival. Good friends of mine arranged the music festival, that lasted for about 8 hours. We had three cameras placed out; one on the balcony, one by the mixing table and one handheld (by me) between the barrier and the stage. Occasionally I crept backstage to film from behind, as I prefer to do when all areas are accessed. After the last and main act, we interviewed him (that would be the main act - I won't bother saying who, since you won't know anyways, he's Swedish) in his dressing room. He's a super nice guy. And the dressing room was very colorful.

I am really tired since yesterday. And I don't know how I'm gonna cope with the week waiting, as the first thing tomorrow is to get on a plane to Manchester. I got a total blackout earlier when I was deciding what clothes to bring - you think I should be used to this shit, when I've been out and about more than ever lately, but I still have my days of helplessness. And I'm getting tired of flying.

Other than that I'm planning for the next big thing, as always. The ideas never stop spinning in my head and I might as well make something out of it. Currently we're making plans and discussing ideas that will literally hit closer to home, as the home itself is a big part of the plan. If this works out I'll have stories to tell.

Turn that frown upside down

Today I hate everyone.
So far it's been shitty. I was going to edit some pressing matters, but the whole building was locked up when I got there. Nothing to do but to get my ass on the bus again and go home. I usually go around with a smile on my face, but today it was a fucking frown.

I've been very happy lately, and sometimes I feel like I just have to be sad or angry. Just for the sake of variation, you know? So when something like this happens - which is not that big of a deal - I take my chance to be angry at the world. Otherwise I have no reason to be.

Naturally I can't stay angry for too long, even if this would have been worse than it really is. I'd rather be happy for no reason.

One funny thing has happened so far today, though. I dropped the entire can of vanilla sugar all over myself when I was baking muffins (baking is my therapy). Now I smell good at least.

Schee lovesch schuschyou (or however you spell that...)

The interview with Shawn from the Matches is now up on Chucow Radio's MySpace. You can just click on the link to the right. Right there. A little further. Yupp, that's it. You found it.

A short interview + Shawn learning Swedish (he's a goddamn natural) + "I'm taller than I am heavy".

Go and give it a listen and tell me what you thought. Without mentioning me, I'm very unprofessional as always.

What do you think?

Wow. I lingered a little too long within my previous posts and came to the conclusion that I certainly was a witty little prick. (Now, this is not an opportunity for you to do the same - and this is not an attempt of reverse psychology; I would really not want you to do that.)

What's up? I'm feeling slightly depressed since the next great experience is so far away. But I'll have to keep myself floating. I have no other choice.
I can feel my filmmaker-mind itching. I want to be creative. Hard to do since I have no resources at the moment. But we'll get there eventually, I'm sure.
Speaking of filmmaking - I'm in almost desperate need of watching Justin Pierre's "Karen". Where can I find the full version?
I hate being so far away from it all.

Now to something far more important - I've been having my Warped Tour-documentary in pieces at home for a while, with the plan to upload them on YouTube. Uploading part one + two worked. Part three? Not so much. That's about where the site decided to quit on me. So I've been thinking about other alternatives where they could be featured, such as MySpace. Then I got the idea that maybe a blog like this would work. How about it? Would it be a good idea to upload the doc parts in a blog? It's pretty much the only thing I can think of now, at least until YouTube gets over its PMS behaviour. Let me know what you think. I'm eager to get these shorts out there, and so is the Wiz it seems.

That'd be all for now.

Just remember I have copyright on these

I want to write stories about American teenagers in the suburbs.
About lesbians living in apartments in New York.
About a 20 year old girl who falls in love with a 45 year old man.
About people who are not romatically involved.
About people lying with their head in another person's lap on couches, drinking whiskey and smoking cigarettes like there's no tomorrow.
About people eating ice-cream and talking about childhood places.
About people lying on the street looking up to the sky, judging the clouds to be beautiful, pretty, decent, amazing...
About a girl writing screenplays and telling her friend that she finally figured out how the ending will be like.
About blue clothes and acoustic guitars and sketchbooks.
About polaroid cameras and Converse shoes and jukeboxes.
Religion, race, life, death. Sacrifice, joy, smiles and beliefs. Memories and relations.

I just want to create and inspire.
I just want to make people happy.
I just want to smile.

"Mer än en känsla"

I though I would get sick in Nottingham, being out in the cold rain and all. But when I woke up on Wednesday morning in our hotel room, I felt great. Then we backpacked our way on trains and tubes to get to London. There we stayed at a hostel. I had the bunk next to the window. I froze my ass off during the night. That's when I got sick.

I've had a great time these last couple of days. The interview went well - we taught Shawn some more Swedish. He's really good at it. He said he'd been practicing. I don't really believe him - but no doubt he had improved since last time. Last time he sounded more German ("dochtigk"), this time he slid into the Russian side ("kiieensla") during a few phrases. But he's pretty good.

I have a hunch I'm gonna be near dead tomorrow, but I can't afford to stay in bed all day cuz I've so much to do with editing audio recordings and video segments. I'll just have to get through the day.
Keep an eye on Chucow's website and MySpace as we will post both audio and backstage video clips soon.

Nottingham, beware

So, I'm off to the UK tomorrow. My partner in radio crime and I will make the country insecure. If the storm won't fuck up our plans.

I don't know if I should be worried or just excited that the two of us will be going by ourselves - we really are crazy. She brings out the best in me, but also the worst. And I don't know if I will be relieved or disappointed when my sister will join us in London, because whenever she's around we tend to calm down a little.

If you happen to be in Nottingham tomorrow, and you see two funny-looking girls with American accents (or speaking a different language completely) - come and say hi, it's most likely us. If you do that, you'll get a Chucow Radio pin for free. How can anyone pass up on that?

Swing swing

Me and my best friend had a special place we used to go to, that we called our own. It was a pair of swings in the far end of the Tivoli Park, where no one went besides us. We had the swings all to ourselves, and whenever we skipped school (mostly Spanish and French classes) we headed for our swings. The fact that we were late teens didn't matter, on those swings we became kids again.

Today we walked through the park, passed our secret spot and I saw that the swings were gone. It wasn't really a surprise since my friend had told me a while ago that they had removed our swings, but it was sad nevertheless. I don't know the reason why they took them away, but since no one went there I guess they thought it was unnecessary, and they were too far from the real playground in the park to be considered a part of it. This was only a pair of swings, and they were finally redundant.

I remember when we had just discovered the place, only a week before I was to interview Shawn from the Matches for the first time for Chucow Radio. My friend and I thought up questions on those swings.
I recall all the little squirrels running around the park, and how they tended to find their way up one of the trees right in front of the swings.
I smile at the time when we got so scared of the birds - they have a bird reserve in the middle of the park - because they made inhuman (well, they were birds) noises and acted freaky. We could see in to them while sitting on the swings.
I remember swinging as high as I could while listening to music on our cellphones.

It's sad how things go away. It was only a pair of swings, but it was a haven for us. My friend and I used to say that we would return to those swings when we came back to Sweden (since both of us want to move abroad) because it was the place we cared for the most after our homes. Now it's just a spot of sand.

Summer

This morning, I heard for the first time this year birds singing outside my window. I want summer terribly, and started thinking about music as it associates with much.
Songs that I find summer-y, due to memories of some sort, are:

Wheatus - "Teenage Dirtbag"
I remember seeing the video for this on Swedish tracklist show Voxpop years ago. It was during the summer.

Green Day - "Waiting"
I used to listen to while walking around the city during the summer months a few years back.

Good Charlotte - "Complicated"
When I first started on C4 and didn't know anybody, I listened to this song when we all rode on the bus that took us to the beach one of the very first days.

The Matches - "Chain Me Free"
I used to sing this all the time in art class, while sitting outside in the sun painting our big placards. It was the first song I heard by the Matches and I yet only knew the lyrics to the chorus.

Fall Out Boy - "Sophomore Slump or Comeback of the Year"
We sang this when we ended our first year at C4, after getting drunk on tequila and plain gin, while we walked to the bus in the middle of the bright night.


There's a lot more but I can't think of them now.
I miss those times, when everything was new and I was just starting to become who I am today.

The Demon Barber

Spoilers may occur.

In lack of something better to do with my time, I will as Mr. Harris did a while ago, review the new motion picture "Sweeney Todd - the demon barber of Fleet Street" by Tim Burton.
I must admit that I was thrown off by said singer's thoughts of the movie, as I doubt that I could ever dislike anything by Burton. In my humble opinion, the man works magic whatever he might do.
I enjoyed the movie, it was just a given. The photography is beautiful and the acting is of high standard. Though, even if I just came home from the cinema I can't seem to remember any of the songs. Normally, the music - especially if accompanied by words sung - is what sticks in my head long after I've forgotten the faces. But not in this case. That was the big disappointment. But maybe I'm just dense.
And also, the ending felt cut off. I would have liked some kind of epilogue. Instead we were left with the same interrupted feeling as in Corpse Bride, like we've been deceived of how things evolved. Perhaps it would have been unecessary information, and we were better off without it.

The part I enjoyed the most though, was seeing Borat (well, Sacha Baron Cohen) getting a slit in the throat. As much as I love Tim Burton's work, I hate the character Borat. But I have to give it to Cohen in this movie - he's a good actor. But I can't stand Borat.

As a conclusion: I liked "Sweeney Todd", it's a beautiful film but it is not one of Burton's best. His best has always been the stop motion, as it is one of the most fantastic things in the world to me. I sure hope that Depp wins the Oscar for his portrait of the demon barber though. I'm still crossed that he didn't win for Jack Sparrow.

If this isn't pouring my heart out, I don't know what is.

"With all my dreams hooked to hospital machines,
I think; let's try redefining beautiful."

Those lyrics hit my life spot on. I've always had very big dreams, and I've had to change and compromise them all to be able to accomplish them. Which is absolutely shitty, since you shouldn't have to mess with your dreams since they are the strongest things you have.

According to me, the most important thing is to have dreams. If you will accomplish them one day, is less important - just having dreams is something we need to survive. We need something to strive for, otherwise there's nothing worthwhile. I do not wish to be content; how could I be, without losing hope?

Big dream number one has always been to leave the country. When I say "always been", I couldn't be more honest - I've never had the thought in my head to stay here. Never. It has just never been an option. I sound like a corny fuck, but I was truly born in the wrong side of the world. My heart has never belonged here, it has always been elsewhere. And I've always known I'd never survive living the rest of my life in Sweden.

My big dreams are the things keeping me going, even though they've also been the main reason for my unhappiness at times. Some dreams I've already accomplished, and some I know I never will. For example, I want to be on Martha Stewart and bake, but I'm well aware of that it will never happen since dear Martha probably will drop dead before I get a chance. I sound mean, don't get me wrong - I love Martha (yes, I'm dorky like that) - but we're all getting older. And besides, I would never like to be as famous as I'd have to be to get on her show. But it's just an innocent little dream, one of the lighter ones; one that's not life-threatening if I let it go.

Now when I've gotten older, I've seen my big dreams turn into big plans. Plans that I will go through with. I don't really have a choice - it's just what has to be done for survival.
Even though I try not to worry too much about tomorrow, I can tell you that nothing has felt so good than to see those dreams turn into plans. It's amazing to wake up one day and realize that I have so many opportunities and possibilities ahead of me. We all do.
I don't know what will happen a year from now, but I can't wait to find out.

American vs. Swedish

About everywhere I go I drop a comment about how Swedes are so cold. "Cold bastards", is my standard description.
I'm simply not used to people being nice to me. And it's not because I had a shitty childhood where my dad hit me and I had to sleep in the basement without hot water and I became scarred for life thinking no one can ever love me. It's nothing like that. It's just the way I grew up, with this certain national attitude, and I don't know anything else. Until a few months ago when I came in contact with the people I currently value the most outside of my own family.

This is how it was: Strangers are not nice to you.
I was proven otherwise.

It still doesn't make sense to me why various people have given me chances and opportunities without knowing more than my name. I can't think of any reason why they should have, and what I'm left with is the fact that they simply must be genuinely nice. Even to strangers.

During the last half year or so, I've met so many nice people, who constantly amaze me when they do something nice for me. I mean, why? Sure, I'm not gonna make myself smaller than I am and say that I don't deserve it, it just beats me that I got the positivity so fast.

Americans, who I've dealt with, are really nice people. Of course niceness is an individual feature, but they ones I've crossed path with have given me more than I could imagine.
Swedes are not like that. We don't help eachother out. Again, individual, but the attitude is remarkably different from the Americans.

If you've ever been to Sweden I'm sure you'd say that the people are so nice. "What the hell is she talking about?" But I've lived here for my entire life, and when you start seeing glimpses of how it could be, you start to analyze and compare. And the result is that, well, Swedes really are cold bastards.

Kick in the face, soft touch on the cheek

You can't believe what you're hearing.
You don't know if you should laugh or cry.
It's perfect.
Your heart is beating so fast, it's beating out of your chest and onto the ground.
It all makes sense.

I've never found myself crying when hearing a song for the first time. Until today.
Fuck, I shouldn't get this mushy.

Sound and image

Everytime I hear a song for the first time, I think about how it would work in a movie as a soundtrack. Most songs are very appropriate to put in movies, since they deliver so much emotion and that's the whole point with both medias.
I don't bother to close my eyes when I listen to music. To fully appreciate it I need pictures to go with it. Even if it's just trees passing by while riding on the bus (always a good option for soundtracks), the music is amplified in my ears when I can register things with my eyes.

I can imagine with my eyes open, I don't need to close them just to see other images than those that are really there. I imagine better with my eyes open, since I have an open door to inspiration as things pass me by. Inspiration is the real world. Inspiration is everything that happens.

I don't know if it's just because I'm a filmmaker to the bones, as I love the media, or if that's a common thing to do when you hear new music - but sound and picture are best combined.
The sound is never as sweet as when it is with the perfect concrete vision.

Crazy days?

Who am I trying to kid? Normal days.

A girl in my class found it necessary to tell me to shut up. Apparently I'm loud. She did it with a very lady-like manner though, I wasn't offended.
I'm losing hair. It could be because my pup is trying to chew off my scalp. Maybe.
My dear mother threatened to throw a shrimp in my face. Attack the vegan with seafood, why don't you.
Freezed my tits off for nothing. As usual.

Life goes on. With or without eyes open.

Did you know your body cells renew themselves every 7 years?

I've realized that I've changed a lot during these past months. I found myself thinking in different ways than I've done before. I see my future in another light. I can imagine things for myself that I was sure I'd never get into.
Six months ago I was still a kid. What I've experienced during this past fall has made me grow up. Sure, I'll still dance my ass off in my room at night, busting a move to whatever I feel like listening to. But my way of thinking has changed.

Sarah told me that she listened through our first season of Chucow Radio, and she realized how naive and young we sounded. She can see it too. We've grown, both she and I. We've made plans, we've changed our plans, we discovered something new.

I've discovered something new.
It's funny how you can be so young still, and look back and really see how you've changed. If you can do that, I guess it's for real this time.

I have a feeling that this year will be really great. Last year brought hope back to me, and I'll be damned if I won't make the best out of it.
I'll always remember this date.