1. Women can’t read maps.

2. Men don’t listen to women.

So, why do most SatNav systems come with female voice guidance?

I stole this from Åsa's blog

Yesterday i turned 28. Fun. For more fun I went here to find out what else happened on my birthday. Turns out the answer is: nothing, or maybe they forgot the year 1978.. hmm got to be someone famous who did something famous that day.. or..

... I want to leave my wife and kids for you. Because when I look in your eyes i get lost and i forget they exsist. I become a man of desire and want, and I never expected life to bring me that again. I've become a man split in three. When I go home every evening and face my wife, when she searches my eyes for the love she used to have I'm split, torn. I'm the knot in my stomach that shows me the guilt I'm feeling. It hurts, throbs when she touched me. But I'm also my heart, which I've left in your hands, open and shivering from the love you've filled it with. I do not take it with me home anymore. And I'm my head. My head filled with my history of making love to my wife, raising our children, walks after midnight and arguements. It chills me that my history is now seperated from my heart. It no longer means anything that I spent 15 years building and maintaing this love, because in days, maybe even seconds it vanished. She can see the love running out of me. She's a beautiful, intellegent women, I choose her once, so she does not panic. But I hear the cry in her throat and the feeling of life slipping away. But all I want is to hold you. When I touch you I'm eletric and the knot goes away and my head goes away. Because after all a heart is the strongest. A heart will have its will.

I look at my friend as she tells me what he said. I look at how her eyes shines and how she's filled with a love and desire she does not want to express. Putting it into words will make her love unjust, unfail, unmoral. Keeping quiet about her love keeps it pure, locked-up and safe. She does not understand the turn it all has taken. Does not understand how a man with a wife and kids, a man who is her boss, her superior can leave his heart bleeding and shivering with her. She burns for him, but she has also just recieved the ultimate love sacrifice. He will give it all, everything up for her. For her. She is worth everything. She is beautiful, intellegent and fun and I understand why anyone would fall for her. Sitting with her I seem to be understanding the force of his love more than she. She cannot understand, cause understanding means deciding, means being responsible. I can see she's all heart too. Her feelings as cut her too from her head. She cannot cry for wifes or kids, but have their fate in her hands. Her hands are getting too full.

Never has the unreal world of love crashed so hard with reality. Never have I seen the ultimate pain being caused by the same that causes ultimate love. And noone wins. Because someone looses. Maye she should just wash her hands clean of this. Walk away. And leave the family to pick up the pieces of a life that will never be the same. A life of broken hearts and lost trust.

So I've spent my day with my feet up. Being lazy. I've sat in my sofa, I've eaten, talked on the phone and packed. Thats it. Thats all folks. But sometimes outer activites are not always a symptom of whats going on in general. On the inside I've been "shit-my-pants" nervous. because tomorrow is my first day at work. A work I really do not feel prepared for. This is it. This is the life of nine to five, steady income and getting up early. Wasn't university suppose to prepare me for this? I feel way unprepared. Most of all, I feel unprepared to get up early every day, around seven in the morning I guess. Normally I only get up at seven if I need to pee and then I crawl back under the duvet. I get physically ill by getting up early. Does that mean I have to be ill for the rest of my job-life?
I'm nervous. But everybody else does it, so I must be capable. Must find my strength, must find my strength.

Get your own spectral analysis from Area 23®

I stole this from Ben's Journal.
Anyone - what does it mean? Does it tell me who I am?

A book is good company. It is full of conversation without loquacity. It comes to your longing with full instruction, but pursues you never.

Henry Ward Beecher

Scenario 1: I'm on my way from Santa Cruz to San Fransisco. I'm driving along the coast and with me is Kim and Lars. Kim is an American with Latino blood, high strong and with temperament and a contagious laugh. Lars is a tall, dark, handsome Dane, down to earth, and quiet until something needs to be said. Kim and Lars are lovers and we are all friends and I have never eaten oysters before. (Somehow I previously labelled them boogers instead of food, even though I'm aware some people do not separate these two categories)

On the way there are plenty of shops selling seafood, and we decide to stop for a "zwischenurch" of oysters by the coast. We get a plate of five/six each. How do we eat this, I ask. With this (lemon) and this (chilli) and some of this (garlic) if you like, they say. Ah. I watch them and follow their lead. They squeeze half a lemon on to an oyster (as do I), they take a teaspoon full of chilli on the oyster (only those with previous experience with Mexican influenced food can fully understand the spiciness of putting a teaspoon full of chilli unto a mouthful of food) (as do I) and they put a pinch of garlic on the oyster (as do I)

They open wide and swallow. Sweat emerges on their foreheads and their eyes glazes over. They moan and I'm pretty sure I'm watching an out of the bedroom orgasm right there. They look at each other, smile and go for the second. I go for my first. OH, the pain, the suffering. My mouth opens automatically to air out soar feelings, my throat burns with the chilli, I fall over, moan, sweat, begging for mercy, let it stop. I scratch my tongue, my throat, I'm burning up, turning red, dying. HELP. They look at me with smiles, as if they were sharing something beautiful with me. I'M DYING HERE. I'm never eating Mexican chilli again!


Scenario 2: I chop carrots and leek and simmer it gently with butter and freshly grinded pepper in a pan. I add a cup of champagne ( it should have been white wine, but I have none), put the lid on and let the juices give their flavours to the vegetables. When there's almost no fluid left, I add a cup of buillion and a little salt and pepper. I let it simmer. I take five tomatoes and remove the seeds and use only the tomato shells. I add them to the mix with some basil (should have been fresh, but I only have it dry, it almost gives the same taste).
I let it simmer for five minutes, then i add pre-cooked pieces of salmon and shrimps (some people like to have these in the dish from the beginning, but I prefer to leave them till last). I add some cream and a little pepper and salt to my likings.

I cook spaghetti and serve it all to my mom. I roll my spaghetti on my spoon and enjoy. I even add some pepper. My mom chews and swallows. Opens her mouth to let the air cool her burning tongue. Its spicy she says, my throat is burning, my stomach, oh, the pain.

I'm stunned. I just added some pepper.

Hey, Einstein, here's your theory of relativism in praxis, applied to humans and food.

Gina and Leo are a couple of friends of mine. They're a couple and they're my friends, and in the natural order of things they should be friends too. And then again....

Leo loves Phil Collins. And he loves playing his newly bought dvd version of Phil Collins' concert in Paris loudly on his tv/stereo. Gina hates Phils Collins. And when she's sober she hates loud music in general.

Here is part if their conversation from yesterday. I heard it up close

Gina: Turn the fucking music dowm.
Leo: Sure, honey, but its not me who wants it loud, its Gary, he loves Phil Collins
Gina: But its your appartment, you decide, be a man dickhead.
Leo: Stop nagging, bitch
Gina: Did you ever stop to consider we have nice neighbourghs that we want to like us
Leo: They like us

Gina leaves the room

Leo: the queen of nasty has left the room

Gina comes back. Rubs Leo's head. He kisses her breasts.
Gina: you're a cutie aren't you
Leo: and you my little sunshine angel.
Gina and Leo rubs noses. whispers. Leo puts Gina in a chair and spins her. She laughs in delight.

We need to go.
Leo: where the fucks my ticket.
Gina: Ohhh, you¨re sooo slow. You just put it in your pocket.
Leo: Its not there
Gina: You're incapable of almost everythin
Leo: and you're capable of almost anything, bitch

We leave, they kiss. We sing. I close my ears. We enter the party.


Gina and Leo are to be married in four weeks. Last week Gina got an stomach ulcer. She's turning 28 in may.