My name is Efficiency

I managed to wear TWO pairs of shoes today. Although some might argue that these are not really shoes, but rather two pieces of leather with with some rope attached. I do not disagree - technically - but at least we are talking Marina Rinaldi leather and rope, right?

Seasons are quite distinct when you live in Norway. As seasons change there are different procedures that need to performed, like:

• Changing from winter to summer tyres on the car
• Taking the skis out of the car to be replaced by golf clubs
• Delivering your fur coat for summer storage (to avoid creatures laying eggs in it during summer, I guess)
• Going on a diet (to get that "beach body" you never had, and never will have)
• Having that long overdue bikini wax. Ouch.
• Having a pedicure so that you can start wearing sandals again. Yay!

It is important to know your priorities, so today I had a pedicure booked after work. And I walked home in my leather/rope flipflops, allowing my feet to bask in the sunshine in all their newly achieved fabulousness. As wearing closed shoes with a fresh pedicure is a biiiig "no-no".

Hm. I guess it is perhaps time to start thinking about getting those tyres changed at some stage, too.

A little bird told me

Dark brown shoes. I have no clue what brand. I picked them up at the street market in Bogstadveien a couple of years ago. Nice change from black on days when you need to don your "business attire".

You know I love shopping, but what you perhaps did not know is that I love browsing through mail order catalogues. In Norway we have one particular catalogue, "Select", that gets me in tears. There are so many splendid things for sale in that catalogue! Things that have never ever crossed your mind as something you - or anyone - for that sake, would ever need.

I just received the summer catalogue in the mail. Because - YES - I have actually bought something from this place. Once. It was a revenge gift for Mr. Incredible´s advent calendar - the year after he got me sanitizing wipes as one of my calendar gifts (the woman in the commercial looked so happy, so he figured I would be too). After that year, Mr. Incredible is the proud owner of a wireless (yup!) nose-hair trimmer. And I will most probably receive this catalogue for as long as I live. Yay.

This year I decided to focus a bit on what we could possibly need for our new summer house. My eyes were immediately drawn to this adorable little bird:

It has a photo cell and sings when somebody walks past it. Perhaps this could be an alternative to the burglar alarm? Or would possible guests get in their holiday mood by being greeted by this little bird? I think this is a must-have for any home, really. Perhaps we should get one for our apartment in Oslo as well.

Then, this "charming OWL" caught my eye. WHEN - if ever - was an owl considered to be CHARMING? Is it the nest that does it? At least it IS friendly to the environment, as it runs on solar power. Talk about being trendy.

Oh, look - it's even ON SALE at 50% off! And it has children that look as if they were made out of ALABASTER. Very special. And the thing is 24 centimeters tall, wow! I think I should get a couple of these. At this price, it makes THE perfect house-warming gift if any of my friends should decide to move. 

Of course, we must not forget to focus on personal hygiene. The catalogue features quite a selection in this field, including several versions of sticky detox-pads that you stick to your feet so that they draw all the nastiness out of your body while you sleep. Amazing. My favorite this time, however, was this little thingy. The ear-wax remover. Call me old-fashioned, but I think I will stick to my good-old cotton buds for this purpose also in the future. 

Sticking this sharp piece of metal into your ear must surely be more dangerous than running with scissors? "Perform a lobotomy, now in the safety (?) of your own home."

Houston - we have a problem

Havaïanas. For some reason, I used to think that these sandals were actually produced in Hawaii. Duh. After visiting Brazil in 2008, I know better. You can buy them EVERYWHERE over there. And they cost NOTHING. I use these mainly to get to and from the pool at the gym. Which I visited again yesterday morning, with my sister. My FOURTH visit to the gym this week, mind you.

On Wednesday night I promised myself that IF I made it to the gym three times this week, I would buy the patent raspberry red ballerinas from Clarks. Unfortunately, it turns out that there is no way that I can do that.

You see, I decided to do a long overdue inventory of my shoe closet this morning. And the result was kinda worrying. I keep pictures of the shoes I have used since starting this blog by adding them to a folder on my iMac marked "USED", after they have been posted to the blog. Since I am starting to get a bit sick of having to photograph my shoes every morning before I go out, today I decided to take pictures of all the remaining pairs in my shoe closet in one go, and save these in a folder marked "UNUSED".

I am so clever.

Only. There seems to be a bit of a problem.

• I started this totally meaningless project on July 31st, 2010. 
• This was 275 days ago.
• Since then I have posted 83 pictures of pairs of shoes to my blog.
• This means that I have worn a "new" pair and written about it every third day or so.
• The project ends on July 31st, 2011.
• This is now in 90 days from now.

So. 

How many pairs of shoes do you think I have left in my closet?

How about 96?
Like, nine six.
Yes, NINETY-SIX...

..... and - there is an additional pair waiting for me to be picked of from the post office. 

I think I must consider taking time off from work to be a full-time shoe-wearer until the end of July.

Royal flush

Sneakers from Onitsuka Tiger (Asics). Not really the correct attire for such a royal weekend, but a girl needs to be practical sometimes.

I had it all lined up for Friday afternoon. My tiara was polished and ready. My Jimmy Choo strappy gold sandals were waiting on my bedside table. Mr. Incredible had scheduled the recording of the entire royal wedding for me on our PVR, before he went away for his annual soccer binge with the guys to Leeds (!). And I was picking up some pink champagne on my way home to meet up with my sister.

Unfortunately, things do not always turn out the way they are supposed to. I tried to schedule all meetings early in the day so that I could leave early to at least see SOME of the wedding live, but no. My message of "I need to leave the office by noon on Friday" was somehow suddenly interpreted as "Could I have that important client meeting postponed from 10 to noon on Friday". I seem to have some difficulties getting through to people sometimes. I am not sure what I am doing wrong.

So, instead of a glamorous Friday night spent with my sister sipping champagne and watching the union of William and "Waitie-Katie", it was spent with my sister - and a grilled chicken. By the time I got home from the office at six, my whole wedding mood was gone. Having a history of being a bit of a "Watie-Katie" myself, waiting ten long years for Mr. Incredible to FINALLY pop the question, I had really been looking forward to this wedding. Now all I got out of it was laughing hysterically at the wedding monogram of William and Catherine. W and C. WC. Classy.

The royal weekend did not end with the wedding. Saturday was the Dutch "Queen's Day" or "Konninginnedag". This day might not be so special to most Norwegians, but having a sister that used to be an exchange student at the University of Leiden - this day has become yet another perfectly plausible excuse for getting drunk.

We had all the ingredients:

• Oranjebitter (weird Dutch remedy)
• Poffertjes (mini pancakes)
• Good company (me, sister, Ben & Jerry)
• Sunny weather

I had one glass of the bitter, before I completely overdosed on icecream. And spent the rest of the evening on the sofa, recovering from my serious case of "brain freeze" and watching the Norwegian equivalent to "Saturday Night Live". We even forgot to eat the pancakes.

At 11 PM, I completed the changes on my tax returns online. An hour before the deadline.

What a party animal I am. Is this what it is like being an adult?

Cyber-nesting

Have you EVER seen anything as cute as these? Totally useless, of course, as they tend to fall off your foot when you walk. And the surface - STRAW - is not particularly comfortable. Still, perfect for a day working from home in your pajama bottoms and a hoodie - when you need to add just a little bit of spark.

We are still waiting for the final date for the completion of our property transaction in France. Or - rather - "Frrrrrance", as we refer to it, as we seem to have acquired a funny accent lately. Being at our house is actually starting to turn into an episode of the TV series "'Allo 'Allo". Without the on-going war, that is.

There is just one tiny piece of paper missing before we can go ahead with the final "Compromis de Vente" now. Not that that has stopped me from starting to fill the house with bits and pieces already. Ohno. Shopping furniture online is extremely convenient. I now have full overview of the local furniture market around Cannes - Mandelieu. Apparently, all women have this talent for "nesting". Myself, I practically have a degree in "cyber-ne(s)tics" by now. Ha. Needless to say, all this shopping makes me extremely happy. To the extent that on some days when I walk down the street I just hope for one of those dancing music video "flash mobs" to turn up. So that I could blend in and do my little dance without anybody noticing.

For the time being, I am focusing on the important stuff, the things we would need to actually live in the house. Like garden furniture, a sofa and beds. Mr. Incredible finally had to give in, so there will be canopy beds in all bedrooms. I am such a hopeless romantic.

I lately discovered that although the duvet and pillow cases sold at H&M home are awfully cute, they are only available in Swedish sizes. OF course, the Swedish need to have pillows that are 10 cm narrower, and duvets that are 10 cm broader than EVERYONE else. I have never really noticed that Swedes are particularly fat and have tiny heads, have you, but maybe that is the case?

Speaking of Sweden. Yesterday I picked up the very important schnapps glasses for the house - from IKEA. (Did I mention that my father-in-law's middle name is "aquavit"?) I really wish IKEA had valet parking. Would make life SO MUCH EASIER. 

Blue Suede Shoes

Ok. They are not really suede. But they are BLUE SHOES. Indeed. And I will be pretty upset if you STEP ON THEM. So, please don't. My third pair of Clarks Bombay Lights. I LOVE THESE SHOES. I am trying very hard to resist buying them in raspberry red. Especially now that there is a ballerina version of them available, too. In PATENT raspberry red. Even better. Yummie.

I'll tell you what. If I am a good girl and go to the gym three times this week, I will consider buying the red ones this weekend. You see, not to be bragging, but I have already been to the gym twice this week. And tomorrow I have an appointment with my my pre-wedding personal trainer, M. This is all the result of a pre-bikini-season panic that suddenly hit me hard on Monday morning, as I realized that an Easter diet consisting of chablis and chocolate fudge might not be the thing if you want to look fairly decent wearing a bikini.

I know I have told you before about my "slight aversion" towards going to the gym. I guess being a total looser during twelve years of mandatory PE lessons in school has scarred my soul beyond repair. In fact, there are so many things I hate about physical exercise that I could write a BOOK about it. This book will contain topics like:

1. Lugging all my exercise gear along, in addition to my insanely heavy backpack containing my pre-cambrium work laptop.
2. Actually SWEATING. I much prefer sweating on a sunbed with a glass of something cold and awesome, decadently swinging from my left hand (the right hand is at that time used to update Facebook status on iPhone).
3. The foul smell of other people's sweat. Which seems to stick to the walls of these places. Yuk.
4. All the MIRRORS. I did not get there to be reminded of how stupid I look after five seconds of something resembling exercise (freshly boiled lobster, anyone?). And I just cannot take looking at how some guys seem to get off enjoying their own reflection while flexing their muscles. Gah.
5. Other people - part 1: Having to listen to the music the current PT victim has chosen for today's guilt-trip. Yesterday I had to watch a VERY caucasian management-type-of-guy (being a well-known mind-reader, I could tell how he believed he was an alfa-male) doing his forward lunges and squats to "Vato"* by Snoop Dog. IN-DA-HOOD, indeed!
6. Other people - part 2: Having to listen to the two wise-guys on the treadmill next to me trying to dazzle each other with their vast knowledge while watching a trivia show on TV. NO, Mick Hucknall was NEVER the lead singer of INXS! Duh.
7. Swimming at the deep end of the pool.
8. I have the annoying habit of getting "sucked into" any movie within five seconds when zapping between channels. At my local gym they project "Fish - the movie" on the wall above the swimming pool. CONTINUOUSLY. For once I would actually be ok if we could zap on to something else. Please.
9. Taking a shower, like - NAKED - with strangers. Mostly makes me feel inadequate, but in some cases even repulsed.
10. Stepping in hair fallen off the above mentioned strangers' heads (I hope - as other alternatives would be even more disgusting), then getting these hair tangled in-between my toes. Yuk!

Fortunately, Mr. Incredible has bought me a membership at a non-stinky place with clean/non-hairy/separate shower stalls. With plush clean towels, deliciously smelling soap and shampoo, and - behold - HAIR CONDITIONER. When you add a jacuzzi, sunbeds and proper hairdryers, I almost look forward to going. At least I am out of excuses. And, after all the suffering, it does not feel too bad.

* http://youtu.be/UXWFqxKU2qA

Welcome to the mountain

My cross-country ski boots. From last century, but as I am not much of a cross-country skier, these will NEVER be worn out. I promise.

We are now at "Væktarhaugan" (is tempting to translate this into "Weight Watcher's Hills" as I tend to eat far too much candy at this place). The cabin is located three kilometres from the nearest village, and the road is closed during the winter. Some people ski here, but we pay one of the locals to take us up on his snowmobile. (I skied up the first two years, so I have proved that I can. Which is quite important, as you do not want the people in the other cabins to talk about the lazy daughter-in-law who does not ski. Nope.)

Staying at the cabin is very relaxing. At least after I gave up the skiing thing. (I strongly believe that you should not struggle to be good at something you so OBVIOUSLY were not meant to do.) My father-in-law has built the place himself, and it is one of those REAL MOUNTAIN CABINS that do not have access to water, and we got electricity only a few years back.

Due to the lack of plumbing, the toilet facilities are "somewhat exotic", but as you can see from the picture above, we tend to keep a certain (royal) standard nonetheless. Having photos of royalty out in the outhouse is an ancient tradition in Norway, dating back to WWII, when Norwegians kept a photo of their beloved king in the outhouse as that was the only place where the stupid Germans did not dare go (you do not visit these places if you do not have "business" there, I assure you).

In spite of walking around slightly constipated (being such a chicken, I rarely go to the above mentioned place after dark) for close to a week, with greasy hair - I really do enjoy my Easter holidays up here. It is extremely care-free and relaxing, and the questions to worry about are pretty basic:

• When should we eat again, and what
• Is it too early to sit down on the terrace with a glass of rosé (what will the neighbors say?)
• Will I be able to sleep tonight if I have another nap, like, right NOW?
• Who should be the dealer for the next card game (SO not me, I suck at shuffling cards)

Aaaah. The weather looks nice and it is almost noon. I think a glass on the the terrace RIGHT NOW might be a good idea. Chablis, anyone?

PS. The ice broke on the river below the cabin yesterday, so in case we are not able to cross tomorrow afternoon, I guess I'll see you again in June, when the road opens.....