48 hours to London

Hip hip hooray for city weekends under 600 SEK. That's my kind of travels. 48 hours to London & I'm excited & ready to go.

I need to pack first though. Then I'm ready to go!

Oh, & this made me laugh today:

Exactly! I don't get the feet though.

Capital of the United Kingdom - hold on tight, 'cause here I come.

Love

Snow's Only Good for Blowin'

I am not up for this. I am supposed to be on my way to town at the moment. Showered, dressed, make-up on, hair combed - feeling civilized & in order for once. Getting ready for a nice night at a small bar somewhere, surrounded with friends & laughter people & empty beer glasses. This is the night I have been looking forward to all week. Missed love & catching up & that nice buzz you get from a stomache full of Carlsberg's finest - could there be anything better? Could there be a better way to end a rather happy Thursday?

Of course something got in the way (we'll deal with the something later.) in that extremely annoying way only things that really gets in the way have fully mastered, & here I am, sitting in my bed - still in my pyjamas, with no beer & a hair that's so far beyond bedhead I'm doubting it even got around to go to bed last night. We don't even have any wine, I have been dying for some wine lately! Tried to satisfy my needs with Glögg yesterday, which didn't work since A. my parents drank most of it, & B. anyone who's ever tasted Glögg would tell you - it has a very distinct taste that's - almost, but not exactly - totally dissimilar to wine. So, you now are thinking, go get yourself some wine woman! Should it really be that hard? & alas, I am glad that you asked, because that brings this conversation right back to where it started - the Something That Got in the Way.

Here's the something:

I seem to have the vaguest recollection of a car too. Yes, actually, I am quite certain it was here last night.

So, my previously self chosen solitude has now turned into prisonhood, as Mother Nature once again strikes in this cruellest of ways. There's something quite fucked up with this world of ours, & I don't like it. There's too much of this kind of strange fenomena going on for me not to get suspicious. Coincidences, yes, twists of fate & simple bad luck, but ten coincindences makes one pattern. My vote is definitely on having Mr. W. Bush Jr to clean up the mess outside our door. That way he might finally understand the extent of the affect his desicions have on the world, & I won't have to do it.

I'm sick of snow.

Here's what I'll be bussying myself with tonite, finsihing these & listening to the boy, the voice, the dream - P. Nutini. I'm applying for the Graphic Design course-thingy this spring, & one of the work samples to be sent in is an illustration for a text of own choice, & I chose this one, from 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland', by Lewis Carroll:

‘Cheshire-Puss’, she began, rather timidly, as she did not at all know whether it would like the name: however it only grinned a little wider. ‘Come, it’s pleased so far’, thought Alice, and she went on. ‘Would you tell me, please, where I ought to go from here?’

‘That depends a good deal on where you want to get to’, said the Cat.
I don’t much care where ---’ said Alice.
Then it doesn’t matter which way you go’ said the Cat.
‘--- so long as I get somewhere’, Alice added as an explanation.
‘Oh, you’re sure to do that’, said the Cat, ’if you only walk long enough.’
Alice felt that this could not be denied, so she tried another question. ’What sort of people live about here?’
‘In that direction’, the Cat said, waiving its right paw around, ’lives a Hatter: and in that direction’, waving the other paw, ‘lives a March Hare. Visit either you like: they’re both mad.’
‘But I don’t want to go among mad people’, Alice remarked.
‘Oh, you can’t help that’, said the Cat, ‘we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.’
‘How do you know I’m mad?’ said Alice.
‘You must be’, said the Cat, ‘or you wouldn’t have come here’.

What I'm trying to do here is get Alice out of that same old Wonderland that we've seen a million times, & into another one - the screwed up Wonderland of every bar-hopping girl out there. That Cat sounds just like an old drunk I met on Mascot (a bar in Malmö) once, & I just figured Alice as is a bit older now I think she would have enjoyed Möllan quite alot.

Alice & the Cat

The March Hare & the Hatter needs some coloring. (Haha, yes, I know, very much inappropriate, but I had to. The tail, the tail!)

Song of the day: 'Northern Sky' - Nick Drake. Beautiful. Listen to it [N-O-W]. The sky about the only thing left here not covered in white. Today it was baby blue.

Love

& snowed in curses

/ me.

'Oh, You Can't Help That - We're All Mad Here'

‘Because the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars & in the middle you see the blue center light pop & everybody goes ‘Awww!’’

'On the Road', by Jack Kerouac

Because the only people to me are the mad ones.

Mad to live

Mad to love

Mad enough to make a difference, mad enough to change...

to change norms

to change sound

change litterature,

or what is considered litterature,

mad enough to change beauty

to change someone's dreams,

someone's words

or the youth of a whole generation.

The only people for me are the mad ones, mad enough

to love this world.

Yes, for me really the only people are the mad ones, the alive ones - burning like fabulous yellow roman candles making eveyone go 'awww'. The ones running after busses, after birds or dreams, the ones walking in the rain, talking to themselves. Mad enough to see possibilities in closed doors, beuty in trash, colours in sound, movement in words, the ones mad enough to find something worth loving in this world.

That's my kind of people.

Love

D.

I Can Draw Trees & Coffee Stains & Little Dots of Ink

I'm kind of tired, 'cause they wouldn't let me sleep last night. I was being haunted by evil dream people until dawn, there was yelling & running & a very unpleasant fuss in the air, to the extent where I started throwing things at them. It didn't help.

The day has been great though, despite the harsh circumstances. Don’t ask me why, but I’ve always been on top when things get mentally challenging. No sleep, no food, long travels, music festivals, car break-downs on autobahn, the Christmas Tree catching fire, that kind of thing. I think I have it from my mom. She is amazing when things start sucking real bad - no panic, no mental collapse, just a simple question: What do we do about this?

She turns 49 today, but you honestly can’t really tell. There are days when she’s not a day over thirty, others when she’s so pissed she simply can’t be out of her twenties. I’ve always thought the deal was over thirty & it’s time to get sensible. I’ve realized now just how wrong I must have been, considering there can be no other word that fails worse to describe her.

I have a new project, by the way - to learn to draw. & now don’t think this is some new vain attempt to be what I clearly am not. Believe me, I gave up trying a long time ago. Recent changes of plans & wants & wanted plans - i.e. me learning that what I really want is to study graphic design at a local college - have however forced me to once again pick up the pen & start practicing. So far I can draw A. a magnolia B. a tree & C. an iPod satisfactory enough for people to recognize the items correctly, which is a great start, if you ask me. Seeing that the point is for me to illustrate a poem / text of own choice, now all I have to do is find one that includes all three objects & I’ll be set.

I think tonight I will practice dogs. If everything goes according to plans I’ll then have a repertoire increased in numbers of acts to four. What school would not be impressed. I suppose it’s time to start searching for my future elsewhere, considering the acceptation rate of approximately 5 applicants out of 80. It just seems so perfect. A small school in the countryside, yet one of the best considered pre-university educations in Sweden when it comes to design. I guess I can do nothing more than my best, nor nothing less.

www.ostragreviefolkhogskola.com

Yes. this night will be spent on dogs & the drawing of such.

& now dear ones, it’s time for me to cook a birthday dinner.

’til next time, Take Care

Love

Fre-Dee

Livin' the Dream, Shakin' that Booty.

This winter I have spent my days daydreaming. It has happened before, there has been a time when I had to keep myself from drifting into that world, since it was clearly doing me more bad than good. Nothing good comes from mistreating real-life-relationships for the benefit of hand-made ones. Also, the better I got at it, the more distant & disappointing reality seemed. I realized I had lost contact with the real world, & decided I had to do something about it. So I threw away the Alice in Wonderland books, locked away all the John Mayer dvd's. I started to listen to music less obsessively - as a soundtrack to life instead of gospels of truth - & talked to people outside my head rather than in it. There's a whole bunch of rules you need to follow, codes to use, smiles to force. They talk too much, say little at all, & base love on history instead of presence. They keep their thoughts in small boxes, but you know - at least they're real. At least they breath & laugh - there's something solid to dance with, there's a smell around them. They take up place, & just now & then it can be nice not to have to come up with the entire conversation by oneself. A little imrpovisation you know, small everyday surprises. Or so I thought to myself.

But now I guess I don't care. The ones I hold dear fit in both worlds, & have a beautiful way of letting me drift away from time to time. They know they're not forgotten. They know there's nothing more solid in my life than my love for them, & they accept more often than they expect. Truth be told their beauty sometimes makes me afraid I've made them up as well. I haven't though, they're real, but as shining as angels. & apart from them - sad or true -I don't have that much to keep contact with. I am not bored. I am not alone, & maybe one day I'll even write the stories down. But for now they rest safely in my head.

Only one thing bothers me in this mixed-minded-mess; it's hard to put someone against a wall if the person & the wall not neccessarily share universes. & that's why I've decided upon leaving this nest for the weekend & go get some booty shaken.

See ya soon at a Discoteque Near You.

Love

Fre-Dee

Oh, & ps.

Things to do in nashville, edition 2.0

1. learn to play the harmonica
2. kidnap a magnolia tree
3. kick som monster ass (they should no better than mess with my darlings)
4. send a million postcards (Dearest Ace, there will be no mailbox no more, after i drench it in love. Tell Mrs. Lanz that she can go pick up her mail at the nearest post office. I think there's on at Hemköp, Åhléns.

Love Song for Paolo Nutini

Staying home alone on a Friday, flat on the floor just to write a love song for Paolo Nutini, simply because you cannot look like this:

or sing like [this] or look like this when you sing like that:

without having one written about you. So here it is, oh & dear God, can I have a few words with you regarding keeping your crowd on the right side of those clouds? You're making the rest of us look bad. Whenever you can spare some time, thanks.

H-hm:

Love Song for Paolo Nutini

oh Jenny might be hasty but I am
not tell me I can call you
baby tell me what
you have been thinking of lately tell me
how

to make you look my way
just tell me what to say,

oh Judy was a dreamer so am
I, she was a late night beamer I don’t know
why I tell you this but I miss our
lies sometimes
we made happiness our crimes

tell Judy I said hi
tell her I said goodbye

Sheena is a punk star
yeah Sheena‘s gotten so far
Sheena can’t play the guitar
but she’s the rising star
at every night open bar

Sheena just know what you are

there’s a million girls in a
thousand songs there’s only one of
you

& that’s way too few

that just won't do

what if we clone Paolo Nutini in a
million copies or more & than we’ll all be
happy
oh Paolo you’re my sweetest clichée
Paolo just tell me what to say
you know there’ll be no gray days
if I could stare at you always

Paolo you’ll never be mine but oh I hope it'll be fine
if I dream of you
from time to time

oh Jenny might be hasty but Sadie’s
hot, little Suzie won’t wake up no
matter what &
if Abby’s got the road then Penny’s got the
lane

Rhonda will tell you what to do
Peggy Sue will make you blue

Cecilia’ll break your heart while
Amy just shoots it apart

there’s a million girls in a
thousand songs there’s only one of
you

& that’s way too few

see I’m just a fool I never stay
I never stay I just turn & walk away
I‘m just a fool to leave but
I would’ve changed

for Mr Paolo Nutini
(or a hell of a strong sidecar martini)

oh Jenny might be hasty but I am
not who wouldn't marry you
baby just tell me what
you have been thinking of lately just tell me
it’s me

you know, it really should be

Oh but i think we could agree

upon a date over tea

Paolo Nutini & me.

------

You're just going to have to imagine what it would sound like because A. I don't know how to do a proper recording & B. there's no way I'll let you hear me sing after you've listened to Mr. Wonder voice.

I might be silly but I'm not stupid.

Yeah.

Love,

& sweet Nutini dreams

Dee

The Soundtrack of a Dream

I had a dream last night I was running around town looking for something, although I could never really figure out what it was I was supposed to find & as usual there was the same song going on repeat the whole dream through. Only this time there was in the background a very gilmore Girl-o-resque streetband of four handsome young men that were follwoing me around all night singing some funky version of 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Star'. The lyrics had changed though, - they were different every time & I can't remember that much of them, but obce when I thought about it might being an apple that I wanted, & was standing still thinking for awhile I could hear them loud & clear - & it went a little something like this:

'Have you ever found a cat?

Thought so once, it was a bat.

Have you ever found a fish?

Not as many as I wish.

Have you ever found a pea?

Yes I have, I once found three.

Have you ever found a love?

None I can remember of.'

I didn't pay much attention to it then, but this afternoon coming to think of it, I did find it rather odd.

Give peas a chance.

What did you dream last night?

Love,

Dee.

It's a Bright Tuesday in Wonderland

This morning the first thing I heard as I stepped into the office (late) in my groovy pair of Indian boots was Salem Al Fakirs ‘Good Song’ on the radio. I know I have been nagging about this song before, but it is just so amazing. Between the snow outside & that music inside - both imitating light in the prettiest of ways - I was completely trapped in brightness & I just stayed there in stillness & smiled for awhile. It was a beautiful way to start another Tuesday. I felt re-energized, much in the same way I imagine a rechargeable battery must be feeling after a little quality time connected.

Right man, wrong song.

I am now enjoying my lunch break, I am alone & a bit bored, & also just managed to take a big disgusting bite out of a rotten tomato. I’m not newly charged anymore, & that round mess of red decay left me feeling slightly sick. Booo for food that has turned into garbage, & booo for my obvious lack in paying attention. I think I might just go for a walk in this winter wonderland, to clear my head a bit. Lunch is such a crucial time of the day, isn’t it? It's what either makes it or breaks it. Morning can suck, that’s ok. That’s the essence of mornings, that’s the deal. But would the suckiness hang onto the day & into the afternoon - like an ugly tail of unfortunate events - that’s when it all gets personal.

But I bet the coldness of the winter sun & the sound of melting snow will make the afternoon start off in the same glorious way the morning so surprisingly did.

Tonight I plan to fall asleep around nine, head bothered with tricky word combinations, waking up rested tomorrow to find the crossword puzzle all scrunched up - still somewhere in the bed.

Oh I can hardly wait.

Until next time dear ones!

Love

d.

If Only I Could Whistle I Would Sing That Song All Day

It's Monday, & the fact that no one has ever written a song called 'Monday I'm in Love' is definitely the least challenging of the many mind boggling mysteries I'm amusing myself with today. I bet Robert Smith doesn't even consider getting out of bed on this a silent waiting room of the real week. Poor Monday, I'm sorry to say, but you're not exactly the sexiest motherfucker in the calendar. Though, you know what, a quick peek would tell even a blind that you might just be in mine.

I lead a still life these days. No hitting any clubs, no late night disco dancing with silly boys in pretty T-shirts. No a few too many beers, a few too many words or a few too many capitalized-c-complications. Simple is the key word in this here equation, & there's nothing more simple than a little get together between me, a pair of striped pyjamas & a bottle of white wine. We usually just hang out at my place. (& if any avocados &/or Jason Mraz are reading this & feel like stopping by, they are all equally welcome.) Simple. There I spend my nights reading, writing, sewing, singing or - when my craving for words demands so - snuggled up with a crossword puzzle & a cup of tea.

I'm starting to suspect my body is buffering for what is to come. God knows I'll need it. I'm just saying, maybe next time it could let me know before hand, as it would save in much boredom & a significant amount of wasted cash. Turns out I’m not such a quick learner when it comes to beer & clubs & the drinking of the previous inside the latter. I demand no grand gestures, no screaming or shouting - no kings messengers accompanied by bawling bassoons. Just a small note would do, so that I know that it’s time again - time to once more hide away from the world for a while.

I think I’m happy. It might have a lot to do with the fact that my ticket to ride rests safely in my hotmail account, or that I’ll soon be writing pack lists again. It’s as if the promise of leaving for a dirty south makes the appreciation of the silence & stillness here so much greater. I am mending, I think, & feeling better than in a long time. You can call me an ostrich if you want, I wouldn’t mind. I am taking pride in being one at the moment, developing my skills in the burying of certain body parts unto perfection. & yes, we can have a debate on the subject ’Need there be actual confrontation in monster-slaying-situations’, but not today. Porting my new ostrich apparel I have actually managed to find some peace of mind, & I’m not willing to give it up easily.


But you know, the phones work in both ways. Make my day, let me know you're all ok. If you're going to invest in a brain tumor, you might as well do it by talking to me.

Quote of the day:

'babe, I need a fix of two
maybe an apple
or hands covered in paper glue

(what I'm trying to say is...

I need you.)'

I found this scribbled hastily in ink, above a little paper glued picture of white birds on a black background. The most beautiful thing about it was, the birds were glued in so badly that they fell out of the book & flew away into the night. So I found another picture of pretty birds to replace the escapen ones, & never told anyone about it. I wonder if they ever noticed that the birds in the little black book were suddenly covered in color.

Song of the Day: 'Quiet town - Josh Rouse. 'It's a lazy afternoon; content with thinking that there is nothing to do.' Amen Mr. Rouse. If I could whistle I'd be singing that song all day. (Listen listen listen!)

But as it happens, I can't. I guess I'll have to stick to the knitting instead.

Was it just me, or did the air have a faint taste of spring today?


Peace y'all.


Love


/ D.

Dee hearts Drew (Miss Barrymore - I Love you)

I'm in love with Drew Barrymore. Seriously. I know I say this shit often, but I am. Every part of the actress / drug-addict /hollywood slut / ex-whife / rock chick / mental patient / bussiness woman / fashion expert / hippie-crap-lover.

She's just amazing. Smart, beautiful, happy, funny, & most importantly, she seems to be at peace with herself. Pure inspiration that just makes me want to jump off a cliff, write a song, smile at the sun, drink orange juice & either repaint the bathroom or change the world. She just makes me want to brush my hair, take a morning walk, clean my room, call a friend, start with yoga classes again, eat healty, drink water, shop 'til I drop, make a difference, help an old lady across the street, fuck a stranger, by a kitten, kiss a cowboy & laugh - laugh at the world while dancing in the mud.

Hear the woman out:

"It's not just sex you need protection from... it's everything that goes along with a relationship. You can't protect yourself from that. Maybe what I need is an emotional condom."

"There's a hunger and fervor that I have, but there's no person I'm going to push to the side to get where I'm going. I want to create my own road."

"Those things that I've found out on my own are what guide me."

"If you're going to be alive and on this planet, you have to, like, suck the marrow out of every day and get the most out of it."

"When I lay my head on the pillow at night I can say I was a decent person today. That's when I feel beautiful."

"Words are tough. It's so strange we depend on them so much in literature and life and sometimes they just don't cut it."

"I am obsessed with ice cubes. Obsessed."

Oh Drew. I find direction through you. Be my mentor?

Song of the Day is still 'If You Got the Money' - Jamie T. There's just no getting tired of it. 'We be near heaven by a quarter to eleven / by three we are thinking of the love we lost'. If you haven't had a taste of the magic yet - hit the exclamation mark ! & dance the night away.

Have you been decent people today? Have you been beautiful?

Either way;

Love

& Fucked Up Dreams

/ me.

Oh, & Ps.

The best things in life are free, at least to me, & this tops that category by far. This is among the funniest things I’ve seen in years. Dean is Clay MacGuyver!!

I’m so happy.

Ds.