Ending on a high note

Kandahar boots, from Switzerland. Ugly. Really ugly. But - they keep my feet warm. These days, that is of utter importance. Have been down with a terrible cold for a week now. Should have stayed under the sheets for at least three days this week, but things are just too busy at the moment. Instead, I force down my Lemsip* (yuk), wear horrid shoes - and drag myself to work. Such a martyr, I know.

Parents and in-laws visiting this weekend, for our yearly pre-christmas family get-together. Dinner at Frognerseteren on Friday night. Sheep and (not so cheap) champagne. Desperate Christmas shopping on Saturday morning. Followed by Danish (again!) Christmas lunch at Statholderens Krostue. 

The tram ride to the restaurant was quite memorable. Being a bit of a working class hero, it was a big moment for me when I got to give our former prime minister, The Mother of Our Great Country, The Labour Queen a.k.a. Mrs. Brundtland, instructions on which tram line to take. I must add that this was not the first time in the history of our family that we have had a close encounter with a Norwegian prime minister. My grandfather grew up with the former Prime Minister Nordli, and used to kick his honorable ass on a regular basis. Apparently the PM was a real wimp as a child. But being bullied as a child helps build character, just look how far that got him as an adult. Partly - thanks to my grandfather.

Lunch was great. And followed by a bottle of even greater 1977 vintage port. Still, the highlight of the day was the A-ha concert at Oslo Spektrum. The very last one. Ever. I had a moment there struggling to hold my tears back. And- after 25 years - Paal Waaktaar finally spoke.

We are talking about some of the major heroes of my youth here. These three guys showed us all what you can achieve in spite of being born under a rock in a cold country far up north. So, it is not just about the music. They are our very own rock stars. Very well behaved rock stars, but still. Fortunately, I do not think this is the last we have heard - or seen - from these three. Surely - there will be new musical projects in the years to come. And art - by the adorable Mags.

Funny thing how you tend to bump into people you never see elsewhere on occasions like this. In the row behind me was a former colleague I haven't seen in 10 years. In the row ahead of me was another former colleague. And - one seat to my right: The Norwegian Minister of Justice. Mr. Storberget. His body guard was seated between us. With my sister-in-law being a lawyer, I figured I should ask the minister if he would be willing to pose in a photo with me. Would be great christmas greeting for her, wouldn't it? So, I turned to the very serious-looking (and quite good-looking, If I may say so) body guard next to me. He did not speak Norwegian. Weird, but maybe they use some international body guard company. Anyway, he assured me "the photo will definitely happen". Yay!

So. This is how it turned out that I now have a photo of me and the Norwegian Minister of Justice on my iPhone. The photo is taken by the guy that turned out NOT to be a body guard. He is - in fact - The Russian Minister of Justice. Mr. Alexandr Konovalov. Oops.

* http://www.lemsip.co.uk/

December it is!

I have hit a bit of a dry spell on the shoe side this week. I do not have that many shoes that are useful at 10 degrees (celsius) below.

I have made the calendar on the left myself. I am very much a project "beginner". Maybe not so much of a "finisher". Dear husband uses this beautiful piece of handicraft as a typical example. I started off really well. Four Christmas trees. Four Christmas hearts. Then - I loose my patience. And I present to you.... Tadah! THE CHRISTMAS SQUARES! All 16 of them. This is what I refer to as my "creative laziness". Without this laziness, there would be no progress in the world, I tell you. Most inventions were triggered by laziness in the first place, weren't they?

We have used this home-made one every year since I moved in (I do not remember if that was the deal, "if you let me move in I will make you an advent calendar..."). Except last year. Unpacking all the boxes after the apartment renovation was like an advent calendar in itself ("Wow, do I really have one of THOSE?" A surprise every day!), so we skipped the whole thing that year.

The general deal is that we each buy 12 gifts, so that we each get one every other day. Normally, we get to the last week of November, and I hang up the calendar, with the 12 nicely wrapped gifts. Sometimes I start buying stuff during our summer vacation, if I find something really nice and thoughtful. Then, on November 30th, we have the following scenarios:

• Husband asks his visiting mum if she can help him a bit (meaning: getting ALL the gifts for him)
• Husband asks younger first-year-student sister to help him (this is a long time ago, she has been a lawyer for years now)
• Husband gets totally freaked out, goes out during his lunch break and buys expensive gifts to make up for not planning ahead (as I have always said, I would be perfectly able to cope with 12 TINY diamonds, I am by no means picky or demanding, oh noooo). This shopping trip always includes a bottle of truffle oil, and some expensive olive paste/tapenade, which I put in the fridge and forget about until they are way past their sell-by-date.
• Husband puts TOO MUCH thought into buying the gifts, which is a disaster*

This year, we have been too busy. Both of us. I am really embarrassed to tell you that I am still four presents short this year. Me - I have my very own calendar. Mr. Incredible bought me the "carbohydrate" one on the right at the Copenhagen Airport. It was actually my suggestion, as I did not think I could push him that hard when I had not finished the 12 gifts myself.

I love my calendar. Now I get chocolate every morning! Wooohooooo!

So, if I appear moody to you, it is just me totally loosing control of my blood sugar levels again. Yum!

* Repeatedly referred to as the "ASAN-incident". He had seen this advertisement of this really happy woman on TV getting this particular feminine hygiene product. I am not going into detail, but I WAS NOT AS HAPPY AS THE WOMAN IN THE F***ING ADVERTISEMENT. I will tell you that much. This is the story that I always use to black-mail husband into getting really good calendar gifts.

Bagged lunch

We have stopped doing big lunches on Sunday. One day of this eating orgy is quite enough. Sunday is time to sleep in, skip breakfast, and then go out for hotdogs again. Before you continue shopping for more Christmas presents.

Met up with our friends at Cafe Norden.

Friend: "Oh. Hi. Wow. You have a Mulberry bag."
Me: "Yeah, so do you..? At least you had one yesterday? What happened?"
Friend: "My boyfriend barfed in it last night. He did not quite make it to the bathroom."
Me: "Oh. Right."

The rest of the afternoon was very quiet, as we were all in bag mourning. The poor bag was brought home, and hopefully - sometime in the future - it will be restored to its previous glory. If not, may it rest in peace.

Time to go home. Flying without an ID is no joke these days. No wallet = no ID. So - Saturday morning was spent on the phone with the embassy (closed) and the emergency line of the Norwegian Ministry of Foreign Affairs. They sent me an e-mail with a print of Mr. Incredible's passport. Then I had to forward it to the concierge at the hotel, for her to print it. Yes! We are going to show those nasty people at Scandinavian Airlines! We will be able to board your plane - even without the wallet! Ha!

Gate announcement at Kastrup Airport at 5.40 PM:
"We are now ready to board flight SK1470 to Oslo. Please keep your boarding passes ready for inspection. You will only need your boarding pass to board this plane. I repeat, there is no need to show your ID to board this plane."

WHAT THE F***.........?!

Lunch is (not) for wimps

You just gotta love Denmark. There is simply nothing NOT to love about Denmark. The people are mostly very laid-back and friendly. They serve great (but maybe not so healthy) food. The country is all flat, so no steep hills to climb. Very relaxing. Shopping is also way better than in Norway. Don't even get me started talking about Danish design. Hooray!

Most importantly, though, you are NEVER frowned upon if you happen to be a bit "happy" around lunch-time. The highlight of any trip to Copenhagen is Saturday lunch. This year, two people even flew up and down from Oslo on the day, not to miss it. I guess I should really keep "our" place a secret, to avoid it being crowded with (other) drunk Norwegians. But - since "sharing is caring" - I have left you a tiny clue. This place has it all. Great food, friendly waiters, and - last but not least - this is the place where we can sing, shout and do the limbo - during our meal. Talk about taking multitasking to a whole new level! We also try to speak Danish. Which is an extremely difficult language*.

I have no idea if the "fedtegrever" was any good. It is just too embarassing to ask what it is the third time you eat it. I skipped the herring (sild) and the eel (ål), though. Otherwise, most of it went down. We left the scene of the crime after FIVE hours, with a new reservation for 10 people. Same time/same place next year. I bet the waiters were thrilled. A big tip always helps.

At smørrebrød er ikke Mad,
Og Kierlighed er ikke Had,
Det er for tiden hvad jeg veed
Om Smørrebrød og Kierlighed.
(by Johan Herman Wessel)


As usual - bets were made as to who would make it to dinner. This year we had a success rate of 50%, out of which one person threw up on the table cloth. Classy.


* http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s-mOy8VUEBk

27 dresses

 

Don't worry. I haven't run out of shoes just yet. I just didn't bring any to Copenhagen that you haven't already seen. That's all.

Sent Mr. Incredible off to taste the infamously strong gløgg at Hviids Vinstue (Kongens Nytorv) before lunch, while I browsed a few of my favorite shops. Met up for lunch at Tivoli Gardens, at "Den Skaldede Kok". I actually do shop quite well on three open sandwiches and a couple of glasses of aquavit. Went completely BERSERK at my "go-to" place for dresses - Monsoon. Not the most exclusive shop in the world, but I love the fact that they make things in larger sizes that do not scream "I-am-fat-and-I-am-trying-sooo-hard-to-hide-it" or "I-bet-I-look-tiny-in-this-tent". And do not cost an-arm-and-a-leg. They surely do know how to seduce a girl with their sequins and beadings. Clever people. Ended up buying 7. Or - maybe 8. Not sure. I haven't unpacked yet. So - wardrobe for upcoming Christmas cruise in the Caribbean is now in place. In fact, they are still/already IN THE SUITCASE. Very convenient.

White "post-shopping" gløgg back at the hotel with a few friends, before dinner at über-trendy Umami. Just before leaving for dinner, husband (not so incredible at the time) discovers that wallet is missing. Great. I should maybe add that this was - in fact - the SECOND time this happened - in ONE WEEK. Nothing less than impressive, I know.

After calling the "usual" list of credit card companies (which was really short this time, as most of the newly issued ones after the previous loss were still in the mail), we were left to worry about whether he would be allowed to fly home without any photo ID. A call to the always service-minded people of Scandinavian Airlines was not too comforting. So, what do you do? Order champagne. Then you feast on the best Japanese food in the area. Just before dessert is served, you discover that you have managed to put your dress on BACKWARDS. At that stage you do not even care to go to the restroom to turn it. You just do "the twist" while still seated at the table. I don't think anybody noticed. Really. Then you party - until six in the morning. That is exactly what you do.

Quotes of the day:
"The gløgg at Hviids was nowhere near as strong as last year!" (yeah, right...)
"I think I might just as well leave you with the aquavit bottle, sir..."
"We have a minibar in our room, come on!"

Winter equals snow....

Guess what! It actually snows at wintertime in some Scandinavian countries! Unbelievable, I know! Well, at least for people working in any sort of transportation business. Like, for instance, an airport....

You have been looking forward to your trip for AGES. You have a stressful day at work, run home early to pack your stuff. Hurry out to the airport. Check in and get rid of luggage. Struggle through the security control. Oh, well, not really. There is something called "fast track", you know. Then you run through the tax free to stock up on cheap deodorant and other necessities. After yelling at the cashier at the Seafood Bar for being out of Swedish Caviar (löjrom), you sit down to enjoy your glass of bottom-range bubbly. The weekend has arrived. Wheew.

Then you hear the airport announcement. It is snowing. In Copenhagen. And - guess where we are heading? You got it. Copenhagen. Our annual pre-Christmas weekend with good friends. A weekend that is ALWAYS far too short. So for the first time in almost 10 years, we decided to leave on a Thursday. So we could have a quiet day to ourselves before the real heavy drinkers arrive.

Normally, time flies. Especially when you need to catch a flight. But when you need to wait for that very same flight, time stands still. It is like a vacuum. A black hole. We finished our meal (some shitty crab followed by some equally shitty pretend-caviar). Browsed the shops - once more. Went to the business lounge and had a few hotdogs. Played Monopoly on iPad. Read papers. Updated Facebook. Ding-dong. A further delay. Great. Flush. That was the sound of our dinner reservation at the hotel going down the drain.

Arrived in Kastrup a good two hours late. Dinner was replaced by a red hot dog from the stand next to the luggage conveyor belt. Not a bad substitution, really, as these hotdogs are awesome. In fact, you should never spend more than 10 minutes on Danish soil before you chew into a red hot dog. Although I learnt recently from a very good friend, of US origin, that the Americans refer to hot dogs as "lips and assholes". It might indicate that it is not the BEST parts of the pig that goes into the hot dog. Doesn't really bother me that much, as long as it tastes great.

Now we are well settled at our home for the weekend. We have enjoyed a great breakfast including Eggs Benedict. And Mimosas. Although alcoholic beverages are not really allowed until after noon. Even on holiday. You need to make some exceptions to the rule from time to time.

Mr. Incredible is soaking in the bathtub, while yours truly is testing her new photo transfer from iPhone to iPad application, in combination with a new blogging software for her iPad. Nerdy, I know. I will try to make it up to you later this weekend.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Location:Kongens Nytorv,Copenhagen,Denmark

The spirit of Christmas

I know it is still just November, but I love the whole Christmas spectacle. Last weekend we finally got the invitations for the Christmas party out. I pride myself in sending out PROPER invitations every year. An e-mail just isn't the same. Of course, this takes some effort. Also, with pretty much the same guest list for 10+ years, I have to come up with new ideas every year. This year we went for the paper snowflake version above. I even got Mr. Incredible to help me cut a few snowflakes. Those of you that know him will be quite impressed by this fact, as he is not the most artsy/creative/patient person to walk this earth. I think the result was pretty cute though, if I may say so.

Time for Christmas shopping. Since there will be no family Christmas for us this year, we need to have all gifts ready in time for our traditional family-get-together-weekend in early December. I am just slightly stressed out about that. Just slightly.

Poor husband was dragged out of bed early (for a Saturday) to go to the toy store. A heavy hang-over is no acceptable excuse. We arrived with a carefully prepared list containing the names of the well-behaved (and thereby gift-worthy) children of friends and relatives. The store was pretty quiet, so I thought to myself - "Yes, this WAS a good idea! We beat the Christmas shopping rush.......!"

Oh, well. That was until this little top-to-toe pink devil (possible younger sister of little Damien of the movie The Omen*?) with blonde curls came running through the store screaming at the top of her lungs - clinging to a baby doll:

"BABY-BABY-BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!!!!!!!!!"
(Apparently, she was not allowed to take the doll home, the spoilt little rugrat. Oh. So. Cute. NOT.)

I was just waiting for the kid's head to start spinning**, and I thought my dear husband would have a "falling down***" moment right then and there. We managed to escape to the LEGO department, only to be followed by the screaming kid, with her now NEGOTIATING(!) mum in tow. It was pretty obvious who was the REAL boss of that family. I know this is easy for me to say, having no kids of my own, but WHAT IS THE THING WITH SOME PARENTS?! Why couldn't the mum just tell her little princess(!) to shut the eff up? Argh!

We completed our shopping in less than fifteen minutes. Mr. Incredible was sent home in taxi with all the toys, while I calmed myself down shopping for gifts for the adults of the family. On average, customers do behave a lot better at Louis Vuitton than at the toy store, just so you know.

To celebrate getting through about 3/4 of our shopping list, we had a nice long late lunch at Nodee. Black cod and a good mersault (or two) really is a match made in heaven. Topped up with crispy duck and a basket of dim sum, you sleep quite well on the couch afterwards. I do love this time of year. And it is still not even December.


* http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Omen
**http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Exorcist_(film)
*** http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Falling_Down