So very, very old

Hah, I came across a relic of the past and it has done nothing but enforce my idea of having gotten really freaking old somewhere in the last year or so.
I was so very young and so overly dramatic, and this was in 2005. I was a good and healthy 24 years of age (well, almost 24 anyway), and really have no excuse for this kind of crap.
So, without further ado I present some hard evidence of my naivety and masterly dramatics (seriously, how silly can you be?):


There is no sound, my love, in this deep, dark night but for your quiet breathing and the flutter of tiny wings as the phoenix of hope rises from its ashes
once more.
For in the stillness of this near-spring night I find my feelings growing stronger, asserting themselves.
Before this day I did not know they were ther, could not hear their soft whispers within my heart. But their voices grew stronger as the night fell and suddenly I am very aware of their being.
Like the coming of spring they snuck up on me. Tiny, fragile green buds on the barren branches of my love. So small, so delicate and yet so amazingly strong, withstanding the strain of the nightfrosts and growing into those graceful dreams of trees.
I wonder how I did not notice them sooner. Had I paused, on my hectic run to chaos, would I perchance have sensed them?
An intangible smell of spring, of new hopes and dreams lingers in the air.
Would I have seen the buds if I'd stopped and looked at my leafless trees? Or would I have thought them mere figments of my imagination, of my desire to feel again? I shall never know that, but of one thing I'm certain. These feelings are real.
For I have tried to rid myself of them, to tell myself they're only dreams of feelings and not to be believed in. But still they persist. They keep whispering deep within me and by now I can hear what they're saying.
They talk of hope and love and the chance of us. Romance and clouds and soft, white feathers and flowers and sunshine and you. Kisses in the midnight sun, dancing well into the morning hours, soft embraces, tender words blowing across naked bodies and you. Laughter and friendship and the sharing of
secrets, comforting hugs and passionate love and you.
The phoenix of hope speaks to me in this deep, dark night.
He whispers your name, my love, your name.

Old!

Yeah, I think we've officially moved into the "old" category, my husband and I (can you tell just how funny I still find the fact that I have a husband?).
It's Saturday night, just around midnight, and we've spent the evening watching videos, surfing the net and drinking beer. By now we've actually started talking about hitting the sack really soon. Sad, innit?
It makes me wonder about what happened to the apparently limitless (at the time) party energy that filled me a couple of years ago.
Back then the norm was to go out and party like crazy on Friday, wake up hungover - possibly even after afterparties that lasted till eight in the morning - and then do the same thing again on Saturday.
Now, don't get me wrong. I'm most decidedly not saying that I miss that lifestyle. I just wonder how the fuck I managed to keep that pace, weekend after weekend after weekend. Hell, we also threw in quite a few evenings at the bar in the middle of the week as well, for good measure. It was a bit (and sometimes a lot) insane. It was also a lot of fun at the time, but I'm grateful that those days are behind me. I really couldn't do this any more.
So, here's to quiet evenings in front of the telly. I'm growing old, and I'm not entirely sure I dislike it.

Driving

Through the endless whiteness, punctuated only by the occasional
clutch of yellow straws that poke through the snow and the coal black cliff faces that are too steep for the snow to catch hold on.
Even the houses we pass are white and their roofs covered
by snow that blankets all the colours that otherwise would relieve the eye.
Our journey takes on a certain dreamlike quality at times. Where
the ground and the sky and road are all the same pure white colour you get an eerie sensation of not quite knowing which way is up.
It feels like tumbling into eternity and not moving at all at the same time.

Bragging (but just a little)

I've just been playing this game, and I desperately want to brag a little bit about my amazing prowess at it:

This Traveler IQ was calculated on Tuesday, December 30, 2008 at 03:11PM GMT by comparing this person's geographical knowledge against the Web's Original Travel journal's 3,493,018 travelers who've taken the challenge.

Yes, I know, I have way too much time on my hands. But at least I can pretend that I'm not just wasting my time on the internet. I'm also learning stuff.
Also, I have no idea why it looks so weird, and I'm far too lazy to figure it out just now. I'm still in a Christmas coma from eating and sleeping too much.
But when I recover a bit more things will get done around here.
I plan to change the look of this entire site, if I can find something that suits my style (yeah, like that will happen) and try to make a point of writing shit down in stead of just talking constantly.

Just because

I really freaking love this sketch, and I'm in a sharing mood.

"Prop 8 - The Musical" starring Jack Black, John C. Reilly, and many more... by Jack Black

Maybe

Maybe I should give this another go.
If nothing else, because it gives me a reason to fondle my lovely new little computer, the new object of love and lust (only metaphorical, though) in my life. The most feminine laptop I've ever dreamed of having. It makes me feel all streamlined and space age to pet my pretty little baby. So yeah, in this aspect I'm practically a man. I can get so completely overwhelmed with gadget lust that it blinds me.
But apart from that, I feel like it's high time to take another shot at this site. After all, I no longer speak English daily so I need another outlet to keep it fresh in my head. And I like to imagine that my friends of foreign stock may read my ramblings and really, what more justification does a girl need.
So let's try this anew. Expect a lot of rambling that may not make sense at times, sporadic updating and general me-ness all around.
If you girls ( pretty much only Annie, Nina, Eavan (you know I only ever tried this for you guys anyway)) are still out there and seeing this, know that I miss you and I strongly believe that you should drag your lovely asses back to this freezing rock in the middle of fuck-all and come visit.

The love of a band

I know that it's terribly unfashionable by now and that it'll make Annie think I'm a complete wanker but I have a deep and profound love for the band U2.

I think I was probably about 8 or 9 years old when my older sister introduced me to their music.
Music was never a big part of life in our home so mostly I got exposed to it through her.
Together we went through a slightly embarassing period of Duran Duran devotion (I could name all the guys in the band AND most of their girlfriends), a brief fling with some bands I can't remember and then a rather fervent Culture Club phase.
And then we found U2. It was a life altering moment. Right from the beginning it was obvious that this was something different from the other ones. This was a whole new thing. And this came at a time where she had begun teaching me english so I could understand a bit of their lyrics and they resonated with something in me.
We both fell head over heels in love with these guys.

This love affair with the Irish band still lasts, almost 20 years later.

I may not always agree entirely with what they're doing, what paths they tread in their music, but I'm always aware of the fact that they're true to themselves and what they feel is right.
And of course I radically disagree with their religious beliefs but they still manage not to piss me off with their faith and their worship. Probably since it's so obviously sincere and heartfelt. You can't really take issue with that. It's a bit like one of my oldest friends who in her christmas cards sends me wishes for god to bless me. Can't possibly take issue.

I've followed the career of U2 for many a year now. I have all their albums (except for Wide Awake In America, and I don't really count that as a full album anyway). I have wet dreams about going to one of their concerts.
And most of all, I have endless respect for these guys. How they've stayed true to themselves and each other for all these years. How they've managed to protect their personal lives and families and have not fallen prey to the "classic" rockstar living.

And most of all, I kinda adore and worship Bono.
I know that a lot of people get annoyed with him for his political involvement and his do-gooder-behaviour, but that's part of what I think is most amazing about him.
Here's a guy, a rockstar, who's incredibly famous and he actually uses his influence for good.
I mean, most people of his level of fame are busy just being that rich and famous and don't really think about much else besides themselves.
But he actively tries to use his image, his fame to do good for the world. He co-founded and works for DATA, an organization that fights for giving up the debt of third world countries and embracing free trade with them so they can stand on their own. And DATA also fights the AIDS problem.
His fame has drawn a lot of attention to the problems that f.x. Africa faces and he's worked hard at getting the leaders of the western world to do their part in the battle. I firmly believe that if he hadn't fought for the cause it would be lightyears behind where it's now.

And on a less moral ground I also think that he's a sexy, sexy man. But that's the smallest part of my adoration of the man.