The return of the cheese-doodle-monster

My dear Marc Jacobs slingbacks. Second pair of wedding shoes. These are the ones I used during the reception - before the ceremony. I was actually planning on wearing some insanely high-heeled Jimmy Choo sandals yesterday. A huge benefit of having a party in your own home is that you can just kick off your shoes and change to some that are more comfortable when it gets too painful. Fortunately, I changed my mind at the very last minute, as I was afraid I might break my legs wearing them.

You know it has been quite a night when:

• You find the morning paper next to your bed. The one you picked up outside your door when sending off the last guests in the morning. 
• Kitchen smells like it has been marinated in Red Bull.
• Breakfast consists of 2 Alka-Seltzer. 
• Guests start calling you when they realize that they - for quite obvious reasons - managed to get home wearing the wrong jacket.
• Renting 6 DVDs to watch back-to-back makes perfectly sense. Even when you realize that 2 of them contain a whole season of a TV series. Each.
• You develop a somewhat unhealthy relationship with your sofa.
• Shopping for birthday present for dear husband is a nightmare. Even though you normally love shopping, especially for gifts.
• Your 37 year old teddy bear (with the name Colargol*) is really all the company you need.

Fortunately my wonderful party guests were nice enough to help with a lot of the tidying up before they left, so it took me just half an hour to get the house looking all civilized again. Not bad! And - to further prove that they are indeed the perfect house guests, they did not finish the big bowl of Cheez Doodles**, leaving them for me to stuff my face with. I am a bit particular when it comes to these, as I actually think they taste even better when they have been sitting in a bowl to dry overnight. Well. It does not really help to down a whole bowl of these when you are feeling a bit queasy to start with.

Bye now. Got a date with Colin Firth for the next hour-and-half.

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

** http://sverigeonline.se/product_info.php/products_id/113/language/en

Diggi-loo Diggi-ley

Golden sneakers/trainers. Adidas. They do have a bit of the same effect on my mood as wearing RED shoes. Or PINK. Or - in fact - when I come to think of it - ANY shoes. They can really save my day. Purchased in Kiel, Germany. Easter of the year when my dear husband broke his ankle - and we could not go skiing. Do not remember which year that was, but I bet he does. Instead of our usual week at my in-laws' cabin, we went on a so-called CRUISE (right!) with Color Line. From Oslo to Kiel. And back. I hope he never breaks his ankle again. Don´t get me wrong, I am not one of those snobs that are to good for a ferry trip to a neighboring country during which you get totally pissed and buy a lot of tax-free stuff. No! Just do. Not. Call. It. A. Cruise.

Today´s header might not make much sense if you are:

• Born during the 90s (do people that young READ already?)
• Non-Scandinavian
• Not into the Eurovision Song Contest
• Have a conveniently selective memory, making you able to forget embarrassing parts of you past

Does not really matter. To cut it short, it is a song about some guy showing off his golden shoes*/**. So I figured it was the perfect header. Got it? You are so clever. Sometimes you make me SO proud.

Having a party tomorrow. Some might find this a bit strange after this somewhat heavy week. But it was all planned a while back, and I really need some normality in my life right now to keep myself afloat. My adorable husband has a date with 22 guys in shorts at Emirates Stadium this weekend, so I figured I deserved to have some fun as well. And I do LOVE having parties at our house. (Except the tidying-up after, but the people coming tomorrow are all well-behaved business intelligence geeks. Like me. So in this particular case, this won´t be a problem.)

I can spend weeks preparing a party. I guess the reason I enjoy it so much is that I never get stressed about it. I start off by writing a very detailed "to do list" well in advance, and then I just complete one little task every day. So on the actual day, everything is ready. Except me - that is. For some reason, I always tend to be on my way out of the shower / putting on make-up - when the guests arrive. Maybe I have this hidden desire for people to see me wearing just a towel. Or without make-up. Beats me. Anyway, I am very much looking forward to it. The champagne buckets (!) are all ready (although we are having just prosecco - due to austerity measures). Just need to pick up the ice cubes tomorrow (last task on list!).

And - select the right shoes.

* http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Herreys
** http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UTFec_mrD-c

PS. If you were stupid enough to watch the YouTube clip above, this song will stick to your brain for DAYS. Moahahahaaa.

Somewhere over the rainbow

My Valsport sneakers. These have never really recovered after the A-ha concert in Frogner Park back in 2005. Huge gig with 120 000 people, and - as always - far too few toilets. As a consequence, these have stamped through quite a few of the bushes and hedges in that park, without going into further detail.

Things do not always turn out the way you hope they will. But - then again - that might give way to other opportunities. In our case - we are now back to plan A. A for adoption. We have been talking about this since we initially decided to join the "parent mafia", but the possibility of having to wait for FIVE LONG YEARS (China was our initial choice) just got to me. So, we decided to give IVF a try, as we hoped to get results faster. Well. Today, that hope was crushed. Faster - yes. Results - no.

According to well-known financial investment theory, you should never put all your eggs in one basket. Well, that´s fine. That requires you have any eggs to start with, doesn´t it? Stupid book! Ok. I may not have the best ovaries in town, but I sure am good at paperwork. Just watch me. I will set a new world record in "how-fast-can-you-put-your-adoption-application-together". Although, right now, I wish I was Madonna. Or - Angelina Jolie (I am not referring to the adorable Mr. Pitt here). The whole process just seems to go bit smoother if you happen to be a star.

Things are pretty shitty at the moment, but I simply refuse to let this bring me down. I do not have a lot of other things to complain about in my life, so I will be ok. Things are just going to take a while longer, that´s it. And with my patience, that will be a blast. Ha. Ha.

Just a little warning. The next person I hear complaining about having to deliver or pick up their offspring in kindergarten - WILL get a punch in the face. Seriously. I do not want your pity concerning my situation, and you sure as hell are not getting mine. Just shut up, will you?

Somewhere over the rainbow*, way up high 
There's a land that I heard of once in a lullaby 
Somewhere over that rainbow, skies are blue 
And the dreams that you dare to dream really do come true 

Someday I'll wish upon a star and wake up where the clouds are far behind me 
Where troubles melt like lemon drops high above the chimney tops 
That's where you'll find me 

Somewhere over the rainbow, bluebirds fly 
Birds fly over that rainbow 
Why, oh, why can't I? 
If happy little bluebirds fly above the rainbow 
Why, oh, why can't I? 

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

....'s got a brand new bag

I am actually keeping track of the shoes I have now used since starting this project (please refer to the link under the header "my objective"), and today I have reached my 50th pair! Still there is plenty to choose from, but I am now starting to see that I might actually be able to complete this task within my self-imposed one-year-deadline.

Although I am in no way ranking my shoes here - I figured that the 50th pair should be special. Like my Chie Mihara slingbacks, above. I had a few other good candidates that are a bit more on the glam side, but at this time of year, those do not allow a lot of walking (outside). Since husband says there is NO WAY (strict now, is he?) we are taking a cab going to dinner tonight, I decided to go for quirky instead of glam.

We are celebrating Christmas again today. Going to a well-known local brown pub/restaurant for a somewhat premature Christmas dinner. "Lutefisk" (untranslatable - dried cod treated with lye - a real delicacy - to some) and "Pinnekjøtt" (="stick-meat"(?), über-salty pieces of sheep steamed over some sticks or something). These dishes are normally accompanied by beer and aquavit. I - however - prefer champagne with my sheep. Or - a nice Montrachet with the cod, on the very rare occasions I do eat that. Today the champagne will - of course - be replaced by sparkling water (or maybe they do have "Julebrus?"), but I guess I will have to get used to that - somehow.

Could not believe my luck when I found this incredible handbag today. Beautiful, isn´t it? Particularly that tag implying it was FIFTY PERCENT OFF! I was really just browsing the women´s department while the love of my life picked up his new tweed jacket after some alterations. Of course, the bag was far too expensive. Even at 50%. Luckily, my house version of Santa Claus is starting to get into his Christmas spirits, so he decided that I deserved to treat myself. Again. All-in-all, I sure am one lucky woman.

We finally managed to get some of our art back up on the walls today. About time, after a year without it. Thing is - we have this huge Christmas party (Lutefisk and the works) coming up in December (tradition), and we try to use that as a bit of an excuse to get things done around here. Since I am also having a small (is 24 people considered "small"?) party for my department at work on Friday, I figured we could just as well get as much as possible done this weekend. The sooner, the better. After all, it really is time to put away the barbecue and summer clothes in the attic again. 

I hate-hate-hate (!) winter. The only good things about winter are:

• Skiing (downhill, although no good at it, too scared)
• Christmas
• Cuddling under a woolen blanket (which is really a year-round type of activity)
• Being able to wear my fur coat (I know that is such a not politically correct thing to say)

In my next life I hope to be re-born a she-bear. Imagine eating all autumn to get as fat as possible. Then you hibernate for months (I love sleeping). When you wake up in the spring, you are skinny again. And you have all the he-bears running after you (even fighting over you), because they want to have sex.  Amazing. Talk about living a perfect life.

The final shot

These are from Marina Rinaldi. Love the fact that my favorite clothing brand came up with the idea to make boots that matched their clothes. Size wise. They are not particularly elegant, but work really well on days when I want to wear a dress to work, but without suffering in heels. Bought them in Barcelona on my way home from a cruise, summer 2005.

Today I was going to write about the first snowfall. Which happened during the night. A happy-happy-story about how all the local polar bears came out roaming the streets celebrating the first day of winter. But then something came up, and my day did not quite turn out as planned.

Time for my third visit to the fertility clinic - this week. And - did they have news for me! All the pharmacies in Norway AND Sweden (!) are now completely out of this stuff that I use for my daily 10-PM-shot. AND the replacement brand that they normally carry is gone too. Short. Empty. Sold out. Finito. Schluss.

Meaning that all the needlework I have meticulously carried out over the last week or so, would be for nothing. Without THAT VERY LAST SHOT of this particular liquid I would have to call the whole thing off. And do the whole thing again in January. Next year. Tik. Tok. Tik-tok. That would be my biological clock ticking. Even faster.

It may not come as a huge surprise that these news did not go down really well with yours truly. After injecting hormones for a week I am close enough to the edge as is. There were tears. And some words I will not repeat, in case people under 18 are reading this. Of course, it is NOBODY´s fault. Right. If I had met Mr. Nobody right then, he would have been in trouble. BIG trouble. You simply do NOT f*** around with a woman in my current state.

Anyway, coming to my senses, I tell the doctor that I am ready to fly ANYWHERE within Europe - immediately - to get hold of this one injection in time, so that I can continue my treatment. Being this close to my goal, I am not giving up due to stupid logistical challenges!

This doctor has worked with hormonally disturbed women in more than thirty years, so I guess he has seen and heard quite a bit. But - he actually took me seriously. Good for him. I am an extremely stubborn girl. Sometimes a bit too much, as I never seem to take "no" for an answer. Which FOR ONCE turned out to be a good thing.

I stopped by the pharmacy, still in tears, to try to get some contact information for some well-stocked pharmacies in Denmark. They started making some calls. Only to find out that YES (!), there was actually a clinic in Oslo (!) that had ONE single shot left of my medication. Wheew! I did not know that the distance between heaven and hell was that short. Scared the living daylights out of the cleaning lady when suddenly bursting into apartment to pick up my prescriptions.

So. Exiting times. Maybe a bit too exciting for my taste, but hopefully this will all be worth it in the end.

Just for the record, if we are lucky enough to really have a child after this whole ordeal, there will have to be consequences. First of all, poor thing, you are now officially grounded. Until well into your teenage years. Secondly, all your weekly allowances for the first six or seven years are withdrawn. It has all been spent on these insanely expensive medications, so forget about buying your own Lego for a while. This is all for putting your possible future mum through so much trouble.

Feliz Navidad

I am completely aware of the fact that the calendar tells us that is is still just OCTOBER. But - my inner child just loves Christmas. And - a very important part of my Christmas celebration is the "Julebrus". This is a very special kind of soda that is produced just for Christmas. All parts of Norway have their own local brand. I am, however, lucky enough to come from the part of Norway that has THE BEST Julebrus. Today I stopped by the grocery store to buy some asparagus (!), and - BEHOLD - there was a whole pallet of my hometown JULEBRUS. Right in front of me!

I take it the shop assistant thought I had lost it. Right there on the spot. Literally jumping with joy, and taking a photo of her soda. Which I sent to my dear Dad by MMS immediately, as the annual Julebrus launch is a very big thing for me. Most grown-ups are more interested in the Juleøl (beer) launch. I don´t care too much about that. On Christmas Eve, I drink Julebrus with my dinner. And not the very strong Juleøl mixed with the fatal aquavit. (I have learnt my lesson with aquavit. I never remember having the second glass, so then I figure that there is not really a big point in me drinking it.)

I know it is early, but I think this calls for a small celebration. In combination with my Julebrus, I prepared a peculiar little snack we call a "læfsbuss". Which is a kind of potato tortilla. Filled with just about any sort of meat. The most "Christmassy" filling is, however, the "Sylte", and some strong mustard. Sylte is a kind of pressed ham that people used to make out of the yucky bits left over from when they slaughtered a pig for Christmas. Today it is made of normal pork meat (with just a few yucky bits thrown in for texture/taste). Yum.

I have now finished my first bottle of the magnificent Julebrus - with two pieces of Læfsbuss, and the conclusion is - I am still a child. The first Christmas I celebrated with my in-laws, I sent a huge box containing 12 bottles of my Julebrus IN THE MAIL to my father-in-law. Just in case. For me it simply would not be Christmas without it. Even the smell of it is special!

Which brings me to this huge dilemma I have. We are celebrating Christmas in the Caribbean this year. Of, course, I really look forward to that.  But I doubt that I will be able to get my hands on any of my dear-old Julebrus over there. And I am not sure that I trust the American customs officers to leave my bottles alone if I fill up my suitcase with them either. They might find them suspicious. So, what should I do?

I am considering contacting the cruise line. Maybe I will be able to ship some to them in advance. The second option is splitting one bottle into three 100 ml bottles and carrying it together with my hand luggage toiletries. I am truly desperate here. It just won´t be Christmas without it.

Delirious

Converse All-Stars. The perfect shoe for any gig. EXCEPT when you go to Bergen (the rainy capital of Norway). I was, as usual, wearing a pair of long, bootcut jeans (do so NOT have the body for any other type of jeans, just ask my dress-sense-goddesses - Trinny and Susannah*). In a city where it POURS constantly, you should NEVER wear trousers that swipe the ground. EVER. I was soaked up to my knees just by standing in the rain for 20 minutes. Including stupid, stupid shoes. Shit.

So - back to Bergen. The city where I spent my student years. And - traveling all by myself. I am such a sad person, a real looser, I know. But - I figured - if I could travel to Oslo at fifteen (22 years ago!) to see Prince in concert without my parents, I should be able to cope on a Monday night alone in Bergen at my current age.

It all felt a bit like living my life backwards. First person I bump into at the gate upon arrival? My last ex-boyfriend. From 19 years back. (My next boyfriend happened to be THE ONE, "the-one-that-did-not-manage-to-get-away" a. k. a. my dear husband.) Of course, I looked like shit, after sleeping on the plane. A word of advice: You should ALWAYS look your best when you run into an ex. At least the ones that dumped you. So they can see what they are missing out on. Bummer.

Anyway. It was actually nice to be back in Bergen. Even better - now that I did not have to stay in my old dorm! And I do travel with much better luggage these days.

Left early to get to the concert venue, after shooting up two out of my now three daily doses of hormones. Got two new types to add to the cocktail today, just HI-LA-RI-OUS. The last one even goes in my thigh. Ouch!

At eight-thirty, I continued my time travel. When Prince finally entered the stage - I was fifteen again. And it felt great. There he was! Just five-or-so meters away! Iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii! Oh-my-God-oh-my-God-oh-my-God! Suddenly it did no longer matter that I had paid an arm and a leg to be there. Meaning TWO tickets to the "Golden Circle", one bought my a mistake, as the default order at Ticketmaster is TWO. They apparently ASSUME that all their customers have friends - stupid! The concert never sold out, so I did not manage to sell the extra ticket. Even at half price. Well, whatever.

He looked a bit anxious when entering the stage. I am not sure what he was expecting. I guess it was not exactly the grandest concert arena he had played. But after he had the whole crowd jumping/waving/clapping on his second number, his sly smile - and that dangerous look in his eyes - were back. Just like in the old days. And, he delivered a great list of his top songs, mixed with some really funky covers. Standing still was impossible. I even joined in on his "bird" dance. Yikes! I waited for my favorite song - "If I was your girlfriend" - in vain, but when he rounded it all off by getting back on stage after his second round of encores, with a beautiful version of "Sometimes it snows in April", I forgave him on the spot. Wow!

By the way, when I grow up, I want to be Sheila E. Please?

Must. Sleep. Now. Have a really early flight back to Oslo tomorrow morning, as I could not take any time off from work.

PS. To continue my travel back in time - at the airport on my way back - I bumped into the first friend I made when I moved to Bergen. What are the odds of that? I think I should buy a lotto ticket this week.

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