Voulez-vous coucher avec moi?

This morning I turned up at the office IN THE SAME SHOES as my close colleague. Mine was grey, hers black. We should perhaps set up a schedule to avoid this from happening again. Haha. My good old Clarks, the ones I though I had in THREE different colors. Turns out I have them in FOUR. Discovered a pair in tan at the back of the shoe closet. Got to love surprises like that.

Picked up another shipment from my favorite store in the whole wide web, Amazon, today. Looking forward to a new season of "Desperate Housewives" and "Hung"*. Good I do not have any big plans for the weekend.

By the way - something strange is going on in French class. Two of the students are apparently starting to hit it off. This female student literally sits in this guy´s lap! And she always laughs a bit too much every time he speaks. And he - for some reason - has to touch her arm every time she speaks. And - once they disappeared. During class. And they came back afterwards all giggly, and a bit out of breath. She even appeared to have that so-called "post-coital"-blush thing going on. Wow.

Hm. Maybe it is all part of my dirty imagination. Or, it might just be all this French-speaking that is getting to them. Or me? You know, French really is considered to be the most romantic-sounding language. Even the most boring sentence in Norwegian is believed to sound quite sexy in French. Really, I wouldn´t know. Never dated anybody - even remotely - French. I rather have this thing for the dialect from the area from where my husband comes from. (Oh, I can hear you all laughing at me now - you mean bastards!) But, really. I do.

*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hung_(TV_series)

Why I love soccer. Not.

Dates back to my huge "Geox" fascination, three years ago. Since I have quite a few pairs of shoes - I never really tend to wear them out. Meaning I have quite a few in the back row of the closet that I do not really love anymore, but they are not quite worn down or out of fashion to the extent that I feel I can throw them away. This particular pair can still pass, worn in combination with my old faithful biker-style leather jacket. Without me looking like a complete nerd. I hope.

Ok. I am just wondering here. Did anybody just recently GLUE my husband to our couch? I just don´t know. Normally he changes positions or lies in different spots (it truly is a humongous couch), but if I did not really know for a fact that he has been out of the house to go to work and stuff over the last few days, I would suspect that he is actually stuck there. I just served him his supper, just in case he was not able to get it for himself. What if he really is attached to the sofa forever? Scary thought. Made me feel a bit like this weird woman in the movie "Misery", feeding her hostage. Although I did not break his legs or anything, I promise. Maybe he is just trying to qualify for the next Winter Olympics*.

Yesterday I went to see the guy that likes to torture my spine. Again. Now that I have been there quite a few times, I am starting to notice these little details around his office. As a consultant, I get to see a lot of different offices all the time, and it can be quite amusing. You can actually tell quite a lot about people by looking at what they keep lying around the premises. This guy is truly very, very (limiting on obsessive?) fascinated by all sorts of bones. He has a replica of a spine hanging in a corner. And the walls are covered by all those posters with scary monster-humans showing latin names of body parts you did not know, or wanted to know, existed. I guess this is all quite normal for a guy in his business. So - getting to the point here. The guy is a family man. I can tell because he has a picture of two adorable kids. That look very much like him. So far - so good. Then he has a picture of - what I guess - is his wife. This is where the weird thing comes in. His wife is actually wearing just a BIKINI! Can you believe that!? Weird. Never seen THAT before. I wonder if she is aware of the fact that she is out there on display - for all his clients to see?

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

Money never sleeps

Sister pair of the ones used yesterday. This is my favorite pair of the three. A bit retro, like bowling shoes, really. And, oh, so comfortable - with same Nike Air sole as the others.

Wall Street (1987) is one of my favorite movies. Don´t get me wrong, I have never seen Gordon Gekko (or Bud Fox) as heroes. And I just love it when the bad guys get caught at the end of the movie. Still, I find the cynicism and cockiness of the people in the movie quite fascinating, with insights like:

"Greed, for lack of a better word, is good." 

"If you want a friend, buy a dog."

"Lunch is for wimps."

Back in business school in the early nineties, this movie was considered waaaaay cool. Everybody really wanted to become a BSD* after graduation. Even the girls. (Except the ones that were aiming to become gold-diggers, or trophy wives, that is.) The world of finance was believed to be all glamour. Champagne, fast cars, cigars, guys in sharp suits, more champagne, suspenders and huge shoulder pads. I guess we saw the movie a few more times than what really was healthy.

After working for some years, we now know that it is mostly all about HARD WORK. Like in any other job. I actually tried doing the investment thing for a while, but it was not for me. I kept waking up in the middle of the night having nightmares about the retired people not getting their pensions because I had f***ed up and lost all of their money. I did ok, but I just could not take the pressure. And - I guess it is really enough to have one person in the household with a mood correlating with the DJIA**.

Of course, I had quite high expectations when I heard that there was a sequel coming out. Money never sleeps. With a quite funny trailer showing Gordon Gekko being released from prison and being given back his huge/ancient mobile phone. Ha ha. So - time to hit the cinema. Commercials before the movie starts are sometimes quite entertaining. The highlight this time was the Danish actor Mads Mikkelsen (hunk alert!) starring in a commercial for Star Tour. A charter travel company. Do you think Mads Mikkelsen really books his vacations through Star Tour?! Get real! I have news for you. Santa Claus does not really exist. Nor does the Easter Bunny.

Anyway. Movie was a great disappointment. Gordon Gekko has now gone soft on us. He is getting old, and has completely lost his edge. And he is being super-bearish***. Which is just too depressing. For me the highlights were seeing the regional office of a Swedish bank in Manhattan during the opening scene (when Shia LaBeuf gets off his bike when going to the office). And realizing that it is not just my husband that has a serious crush on Maria Bartiromo****. At our house we watch Squawk Box and Closing Bell on CNBC all the time. Husband claims that it is purely professional. I hear what he says, but I do not really believe him. Hello? Just look at the woman!!

* http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Liar's_Poker
** http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dow_Jones_Industrial_Average
*** http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Market_trend
**** http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Maria_Bartiromo

Art hell

Result of bargain hunt in Cole Haan outlet store outside San Francisco two years ago. Brought home a total of three pairs at a 80% mark-down, so I practically made money out of that transaction. Yeah, right.  Not too fan of the velcro strap (really for people that do not know how to tie their own shoelaces), but very comfortable - as they are fitted with a Nike Air sole.

Time for our monthly social event at some bar near the office on Friday night. Should have gone home early, but - of course - did not. So, getting up for gallery visit with entire family on Saturday was a bit painful. Which is a bit of an understatement. Having fun together helps building a great team, but you should really not underestimate the effect of suffering together either. Felt somewhat better after text recap with other girls. Apparently I was not alone.

Family day at Henie Onstad Art Centre. Hell. Hell. Hell. Screaming, sugar-fuelled, children running around. Grumpy parents that all wish they were somewhere else. Without kids. Huge exhibition of some abstract pieces of art by Joan Miro*, all named "Femme", "Oiseau" or - any combination of the two. This guy apparently really liked his women and birds (my French classes are starting to pay off, yay!). And I think he liked to get involved with some strong and most probably illegal chemical substances while working. Oh, well. I guess I am not much of an art connoiseur.

To top it all off - there was a clown. A VERY scary clown - on a bicycle. Inside. Honking a horn, and winding up all the already quite wound-up children to new levels of over-excitement by building ballon animals upon (very loud!) requests. I do not like balloons either. Except the helium ones that you see high up in the sky from time to time. Knowing that somewhere there is a screaming child without a balloon. I am mean, I know. Moahaha.

Managed to get through gallery hell, long lunch with more family, and then logging on to get some work done. Amazing dinner with mum, dad and lovely husband. Think I fell asleep while still brushing teeth. Incredible how much you can actually manage to cram into one day.

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

The straw that broke the camel´s back

Loyal friends. Have the same ones in navy blue (which are now banned after the airport incident on Tuesday, even though they were not really involved) and grey. From Clarks. A brand selling really plain shoes, bordering on straight-out-boring. They typically make those brown leather sandals that people put socks in, if that gives you an idea. Then - suddenly - these came along. Heels not too high, and they go with everything. I am crossing my fingers that next season they will finally be available in red. Would love that.

Finally got husband back from NY. Only to send him off to Stockholm again this morning. As a proof that absence really makes the heart grow fonder - I got up BEFORE 6AM today to cook my husband an omelette for breakfast. If that is not true love, then I do not know what is. Or maybe I´m still jet-lagged after my flight on Tuesday, who knows.

Another crazy week at work. I really do enjoy it, but I think maybe my back is trying to tell me that I have had my dose of fun for a while now. So, I have made a new friend this week: Mr. Chiropractor. Very. Scary. Man. I mean, he breaks people´s bones for a living. I can still recall the the sound my spine made when he sat on it. Three times. Good thing is that I actually feel a lot better. So I am seeing him again tomorrow.

Yesterday´s french class was interesting. I actually discovered that there is a VERY thin line between when you find stupid people slightly amusing, and when they become totally annoying. Miss Fashion Management did not really have a good day in class yesterday. I really can´t see why she bothers at all. The good news are that if Darwin´s theory of "Survival of the fittest" is anything to go by, she will starve to death during her first month in Paris, as she will not be able to communicate with anyone. And, of course, "Ihihihi!" she had not done her homework. Which apparently was just hilarious. Duh.

In (the) navy

After being out of fashion for years, it is now back. I actually thought this was a good thing. I have always liked navy.

Well, maybe I need to reconsider. Apparently, navy is NOT the new black after all. Just got back from the airport. I was offered the employee discount when picking up some dinner on my way to the airport express. I guess my all-navy-blue ensemble of navy satin shirt, navy knitted dress and navy trench-coat was a bit OTT. No wonder the girl at the teller thought I worked for an airline.

Red-eye blues

My new brown boots. Bought them in Nice this summer, and have been saving them for autumn. From Marina Rinaldi (of course!), but I think they are a bit Ralph Lauren-ish. I love that country-style look. If I could just get my hands on a brown tweed jacket and I would be ready to go hunting. Boom.

You might not be aware of this, but it is actually possible to become jet-lagged by flying domestic. Norway is not a particularly wide country - and (theoretically) we are all in the same time zone (as most of Western Europe). Except me. I am always behind. And - unfortunately - there are mornings when I have to to drag my not-so-bony derriere out of bed a good six hours before my body clock says it is time. To catch a flight. That really does hurt.

I am flying out to Stavanger tomorrow for a full day meeting with a client. I look forward to the meeting. But, I could really do without flying out so early. Or - even flying at all. I know about videoconferencing, yes, but sometimes that just will not do. From time to time you actually need to see people face-to-face. Secretly, I am crossing my fingers that somebody will come up with the technology to teleport people from one place to another very soon. In my case, I would then teleport myself out in the morning. Then I would teleport 90% of my body weight back home in the evening. The remaining 10% I would send to some skinny person that I do not like. Would be a blast. If you know of such a project I would be more than happy to volunteer to be their guinea pig.

Apart from the getting-up-early business, I have a few other objections to flying early:

1) Extremely awake and talkative taxi drivers. I know they have been working for many hours throughout the night, and mostly alone. So they have a right to a social life as well. But - for goodness´ sake - can´t they please just shut the f*** up?

2) Security checks. For some reason, all the individuals (I was very close to calling them another i-word, but that would not be nice) that NEVER fly, gather at the airport really early in the morning. In addition to not being used to the security screening, they are ON VACATION. So there is no need to hurry, you see. They actually seem to be enjoying the whole process, as they try to make the thing last as long as possible. They take FOREVER to get all their stuff ready for security screening, and then have to walk through the body screening thing four times. First time they forgot to remove their keys. Second time it is their cell phone. Third time it is the huge belt-buckle. And on the last attempt they remove all the spare change, a can of soda and their shoes. This guy is the very same guy you will se five minutes later, having a beer. At 6AM. After all, he is on vacation, you know.

I guess we can not really rule out the fact that I might actually be the problem here. I love sleeping. And getting up at 4.30 AM to catch a flight is not really my kind of fun. I am really no good until after 10 AM. Which is a pity, really, as work tends to start before that on most days. Oh, it´s a struggle.