Endorphinmachine

I know that I bought these in London once. I do not remember why. For a person that works out as little as I do, I have far too many pairs of trainers. And - most of them being Nike Shox of some kind. Because they feel a bit like walking in heels (that is why you may catch me giggling when I see men wearing the same, tiiihi).

Oh, the PAIN! And - when we are talking about PAIN today, it is NOT the delicious mouth-watering French kind of "pain". Oh, no. We are talking about THE GYM. My visit was long overdue. I have been so full of excuses, you would not believe it:

• Work
• More work
• Going on holiday soon
• Just came back from holiday
• Feel like eating out
• Just ate out
• Had a glass of wine with dinner
• Laundry (because I can not leave the machine on)
• Missed the tram on my way home and had to go shopping while waiting for the next one
• Other housework (counting toothpicks, removing the used matches from our matchboxes)
• Travelling (had to pack)
• Travelling (need to unpack)
• Reading (just finish my book)
• Something interesting on TV (even though I could record it)
• Just bought a magazine
• Having a barbecue - before it gets dark
• My workout clothes were all on the top shelf of my wardrobe, and I could not reach them*
• Headache
• Backache
• The sofa needs me
• Husband has headache (need to keep him company)
• Husband has backache (need to give him a massage or keep him company)
• Too hungry
• Too tired
• Grumpy
• Too happy, cannot ruing day by going to gym
• Afraid of bumping into anybody I might know (although I do not know anybody other than my husband at this place, and he has surely seen me in far more embarrassing situations than that)

Of course, I have had a very guilty conscience. But I am used to that. Being a girl, I feel guilty about everything. By nature. So that is simply not enough to make me choose to sweat - voluntarily.

Then all of a sudden I got some true inspiration this morning. I looked at myself in the mirror. And - I could actually see a hint of my collar bone again! Yay! So there is HOPE ("in hanging snore"**, as some people say). I have been on a high all day after that. I actually ran two miles on the treadmill. Well, jogged. But still. Must not overdo it to begin with, you know.

* On that top shelf of my wardrobe I even discovered my long-lost Juicy Couture velour loungewear/tracksuit. In which I am very soon to be embracing the couch.

** http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nils_Arne_Eggen

Couch potato

The only pair of Uggs I have ever owned. I never had a thing for those boots. Picked these up yesterday, after being through quite a dry spell on the shoe front lately. I just do not find anything that I like these days. That is - until today.

Sunday. Shops are closed. Boring. Have had the pleasure of walking around in a bathrobe with bedhair most of the day. A bit like the Playboy Mansion. Except - with Hugh Hefner being totally into his iPad. While the only playmate around was reading yesterday´s FT - while trying to work up the motivation to set up some tax reporting metadata. A real party. Watched all the recorded TV shows on our PVR (similar to the Tivo). What-to-do, what-to-do? After sorting out my underwear drawer and doing some laundry, I did not really feel like unpacking the last two boxes left after our apartment renovation last year. They have now been stuck in our guest bedroom for about a year. I guess I should throw it all away. After all, there are no shoes in there. Or?

Some serious web-shoe-shopping can save any day. The official damage was three pairs. Of course, my husband knows that is not entirely true. I tend to round most numbers down. When I talk about shopping, a price of 2999 easily comes down to 2000. So, who knows. At least, I am now well-stocked with those lovely Tory Burch sandals for our upcoming Christmas holiday. Can´t wait. In 67 days I will be on a plane to San Juan.

Right now I am enjoying the sunset from our dining room window (the photos are taken from the balcony outside). Stunning. And - as always - I am wondering about that cute little tower. Is that where they kept the local virgin in the olden days?

Beautiful Day

Geox with a Gucci influence. Not really nice to be stealing the Gucci horsebit design, is it? I was not really aware of it until this summer, but some people HATE white shoes. This summer I attended this wedding where this was one of the head topics of the maid of honor´s speech (might be perceived as a slight bit shallow). After that I have only worn these twice, as I do not like to offend people. On the first occasion I managed to bump into the bride from that wedding. Of course! Still, I figured I would give them a second chance. The shoes, that is.

Although I grew up in the countryside, I do love living in the city. Our bedroom faces a huge backyard, and this can be quite interesting. A bit like listening to the radio, you never know what you will get. Sometimes you get a bit too much information about your neighbours ("Whoooo´s your daaaaaddy?"), but mostly it is really quite nice. This morning we were woken up by this guy singing/playing "Beautiful Day" (U2) on his guitar. I wish I could get that kind of wake-up-call every morning.

Not being in a hurry, I poured a bath for me and my stock-broker-ducky (isn´t he awfully cute? kinda reminds me of someone). Went for the "Grumpy Cow" bath oil from Cowshed. (I save my "Horny Cow" oil for special occasions.) I have always been truly fascinated by cows and anything cow-related. Partly listening to the radio, and almost dozing off. Sooooo nice and relaxing. Zzzzzzz. Then I was caught completely off-guard by the radio. "Welcome to the jungle" (Guns ´n´ Roses). Great song, but there IS something called TIMING.

Asian lunch with husband at Nodee. Dim Sum and my favorite dish - Crispy Duck. Afterwards I suddenly remembered that it is lobster season in Norway now, so we should have eaten somewhere entirely different, so I guess we will have to do the lobster/champagne deal next weekend instead. Bummer. Even though we were both quite full after the duck extravaganza, we managed to stop by the cheese place again*. Dangerous! Husband tried to order 100 grams of Pata Negra, but a Freudian slip made that come out as 200. Yum.

I strongly felt like doing some shopping, so we picked up FT for my husband, before I left him in a nearby cafe. I found three new items for my Christmas holiday. And a new pair of Ugg slippers that I have been coveting for a while. When I got back, husband had - as usual - managed to MYSTERIOUSLY loose the "How to spend it" section of FT. Again. This is one of my favorite reads. But he keeps hiding it from me! Not that I do not know how to spend money (my husband says that if I was a country, I would be GREECE!), I just like to browse through it - to make sure there is not something good in there that I need, but that I was not aware existed.

* http://dayinshoes.blogspot.com/2010/09/say-cheeeeeese.html

Hunting (high and low?)

Converse. "Souvenir" shoes from last year´s trip to San Francisco. Got the same in the classic red. Really do not know what the deal was with these pink ones (except being PINK). Comfortable, cool-looking (according to my husband - TOO COOL for me), and you can throw them in the laundry - and then they are new (reborn!) again. Very eco-friendly, actually.

The last couple of weeks have been strange. You try to call people - but nobody is in the office. Meeting invitation? You only get "out of office" replies. Important project milestone? Sorry, that will have to wait. Apparently, there are more important matters to tend to. Seems as if the whole country is actually standing still at the moment. It´s time for the yearly all-important MOOSE HUNT.

Hunting is apparently what separates boys from men. Imagine the guys sitting around in the woods, getting drunk. With a backpack and a pair of "pipes", as some guys like to call their guns. This is the only week when they can (finally) get a break from their wives - in this respect fondly (?) referred to as "the dragon" - with no questions asked. I guess some of these guys would actually rather go on a real bender in Ibiza for a week, but I do not think that would be socially acceptable to the same degree. Oh, no! Much better to go for a week without a shower. And share a tent with some other sweaty guys. Yay! And, of course, there has to be some serious killing involved, otherwise it would be just for fun. We can´t have that, can we?

Of course, the hunters bring home food for the whole family (at least that is the intention) after their adventure. Talk about being a REAL breadwinner! I mean, how would we SURVIVE without these brave men sacrificing their time to get the meat for the rest of us?

Well. Today I decided to go hunting as well. Donned my cute (weeeell, size 41 is maybe not CUTE)  shoes shown above. GREAT hunting shoes! And I was lucky. My hunt did not last that long. I found my piece of meat almost instantly. There was fresh moose sirloin in the meat counter at the very first grocery store I stopped by. AND fresh Brussels sprouts. Yum!

So now we have had moose for dinner. And we will have for at least four more days. A piece of advice: NEVER go shopping for huge animals when you are hungry.

PS. Thanks to the guys out in the woods. Excellent meat!

Goosebumps galore

I am almost speechless. Well, just almost. What a night! We started off with an extensive tapas massacre at San Leandro. If you need any hints on how to wolf down 12 tapas dishes between two people in about 40 minutes, you are indeed welcome to come by our house for dinner. Any time. When we are hungry, we eat. Simple as that. And I love their food.

Time for charity event at Oslo Concert Hall. Starring A-ha. Which was the third time I saw them over the last 12 months. (But not last, oh no!) The invitation announced that they would be playing their very first album "Hunting high and low" - unplugged. Which made me a bit curious as to what Mags would be doing on stage. Without his synthesizer he would be a bit - sort of - NAKED? (Oh, I wish!)

Well, it turned out the invitation was not really that accurate. What we got was A-ha - WITH the Oslo Philharmonic Orchestra. Acoustic? Well, not really. Only - a lot better! From the first sound of "Take on me" I was in heaven. With complimentary goose bumps. Wow! Apparently some people were even worse off than me. The woman in the seat behind me was screaming like an animal between each song (good thing she managed to shut up during the songs). I think she might have had "a little accident" in her seat there.

It was all perfect. The sound was great. Morten looked his best as always, I guess all that eco-food and all of those colonic washouts are paying off. Good for him. And genius Paal stood there looking like our old Norwegian childrens TV hero "Titten Tei"* with a tiny smile on his face ("Oh, finally. A philharmonic orchestra playing MY songs. Way cool, huh?"). And then my favorite - Mags. In a really great suit. I normally have a thing for the base player of any band (might be a result of my Duran Duran hang-up in the eighties), but this not the case with A-ha. Must be since they do not have a permanent base player.

After about forty minutes, there was a break. Which most of us found a bit strange, because the band had really played all of their first album by then. Now what? As a surprise dessert, we got their second album, "Scoundrel days". Not bad.

By the time they were done, my jaws were aching from all the smiling. I have been to quite a few concerts in my time, and this made it straight to my Top 3 list. Loved it. And - we were seated in the same row as Her Majesty. The Queen. Not a real fan of royalty, so to me it feels great to see them seated among their people.

* http://home.online.no/~groennsl/tittentei/

Living a girl´s adventure tale

More Stuart Weitzman. Yaaay! While we´re at it, I figured, why not?! These have been faithful for years, after I found them in my local shoestore, and they did not carry my size.  So it took me TWO WHOLE YEARS to track them down on the web. Finally, I found them, in Trondheim, of all places. I wanted them with black soles, but it does not really matter. This way they are a bit less formal.

Not my typical Monday shoe, I must admit. But today is special. And I love playing dress-up! Have a date with husband at Oslo Concert Hall. A-ha squeezing the last drops out of the lemon that is retirement. Tickets were bl**dy expensive for a Monday night, but since it´s all for a good cause*, I do not really mind that much. Deep inside my tremendous cleavage, there is a heart, you know.

Oh, gotta go now. Will tell you all about it. Later.

* http://www.mercyships.org/

Lessons in anger management

Good old Stuart Weitzman. Every woman´s best friend. He makes comfortable party shoes. I have two pairs that have gotten me through many a wedding (not my own!) without too many blisters. I picked these up at a 70% mark-down, at my local old-but-classic shoe store. I do not know what it is about me and pink shoes. These are not the shoes of a girl listening a lot to "Rage against the machine" on the tram to work. You think. Well, good. Then I managed to fool you all. I am actually an undercover angry person.  At least today.

It´s that time of the month again. And I am not talking about THAT time of the month. No, I am talking about month-end. Being a consultant, you are what you invoice. You invoice zero, you ARE a zero. It´s tough, but either you can handle it - or you can´t. So. Every last working day of the month, you have to make sure that you have registered all your hours correctly, or there will be no money coming in. Which would be a very bad thing for your company. And you need to file your expense reports. Otherwise, you will need to pay for those flights out of your own pocket, which would be a very bad thing for you.

So, last night was time to go through all of my handbags, jackets, coats, and "the-computer-bag-from-hell" (has a gazillion pockets that hide stuff), to retrieve bus tickets, cab receipts, boarding passes and anything else work-related. Knowing how many handbags and jackets I have, this is a real pain in the a**. Afterwards, you need to sort out what is truly work-related, and then GLUE all these tiny slips of paper on to bigger pieces of paper, so that it looks half decent when the accounting people receive it. I have never tried the "plastic bag" trick, where you just hand over a bag with all your receipts for someone to sort out. My grandfather was an auditor, so I think this is something in my gene pool. I simply do it properly, or not at all.

The hours are easy to register, as you keep track of this on a running basis, BUT you need to register them at least once for invoicing. Then, sometimes the client requires you to register the same hours in their own system, to get them approved properly. Which makes sense. Then - IF you deliver as a subcontractor, it might be that you need to post you hours there as well. So far, so good.  

Now is when the real fun starts. Because now you do it all again in each project manager´s very, very adhoc spreadsheet. Knowing that spreadsheets can actually tell a lot about what is going on - or sometimes absolutely NOT going on - in a person´s brain, this can be a right out frightening task. And - if you are among the "chosen ones" - you ARE a project manager too! Then you get to chase these other slackers to fill in your own personal genius spreadsheets. Wheeew. I am sorry, but this process really kills me. Every time. In my ideal world, the client just sends you a check in the mail (or even better, WIRE the money) to your company once a month, if they were happy with what you did and wanted to see you again. If they really wanted to see you again, they would send a huge check. If they were not too keen on seeing you, maybe just an envelope with some spare change and a bus ticket. Or put a horse´s head in your bed or something.

My adorable husband just sent me an e-mail asking me out for dinner tonight. I am now suddenly happy as a bird again. Even bought myself flowers on the way home from bone-breaking session. I guess this will be a good weekend after all. Just need to pop by the office with all these pieces of paper first.