Is It Because I Lied When I Was Seventeen?

It's raining today. Big drops & small drops, falling drops & climbing drops & drops going pretty much every which way. Add to that yesterdays insight (there's really only one way for me to avoid spending money around here - stay indoors) & the fact that there needs to be some cleaning up of this room, shall Hillary be staying here soon. (Yes, I have been in town for four days. So? A girl has got a right to throw her things around her, hasn't she?)

So, in other words, this is staying-right-here-day. So far so good, have woken up & had brekfast (potatoes & avocado - what more can a girl ask for), made coffee & am about to have a hot shower, it is a bit cold in here.

As usual I had too much for breakfast. That goes for pretty much every meal here, simply beause everything is so damn Good. Considering that almost everything is also very good for you, I have decided not to bother.

Oh, saw Y Tu Mamá También yesterday. Still haven't decided exactly how good I thought it was - it was obviously entertaining, but somewhat inconsistent, & with an ending that might have been excellent had it not been for... for what Dorothy? I don't know. I need to think about this further. But - BUT - oh my, are those guys hot.

A little trip to Mexico, anyone?

Have been & will be listening to Cold War Kids all day, a sort of mental preparation for the show Saturday night. Singing in the shower, packing my bags again. Something tells me good times are A-Waitin'.

I just wish the lovers weren't so damn far away. It already feels like I'm carrying around a disgusting amount of miss, all scrunched up & thumbed, shoved into the back pockets of my heart. It's not a heavy burden, but a bittersweet one.

Let's try no to think about it. Oh, here's me & my brother having a little conversation (he's the bomb guy, I'm more of the snail):

To do today:

Clean room

Have more coffee

Sit around & wait for some Mbeba love to show up

Talk to Megan online

Pet dog (Jesper)

Wash my hair

Once & for all look up Newcastle on a map

Ask the Queenies about their days

Watch crazy American TV

Hug Hillary forever

Talk talk talk with Hillary

Write with Hillary

Rhyme with Hillary

Get drunk with Hillary

(Stop rhyming with Hillary)

So, bottom line: I am well, I am having a good time. Now, let me know how you all are doing. From Malmö to Paris, from London to the sleepy forests of Uppsala, to Florida via Göteborg via Nashville Tennessee - know that I am thinking of you. Why don't you give me your address & I will give you back some postal serviced love. Deal?

Take Care

D.

Up & Down The Same Old Streets

Lazy days, crazy nights. I dreamt I was riding a bike around Chicago, trying not to get run over by a thousand hostile city busses, driven by a thousand angry American bus drivers. Woke up around eleven, exhausted. Luckily enough, the days aren't half as tiresome as the nights in this here Wonderland.

Just got back from walking around in the neighbourhood. It has been a sunny, warm spring day & I have let my boots do the talking. With Modest Mouse in my ears I payed a little visit to Hollywood Mirror, & was fairly dissapointed actually. Shitty japanese stuff. Expensive shoes & ugly ties. Maybe I wasn't in the mood. Found some good things on American Apparel though, but as I am trying to save the cash for a serious shopping spree with Hillary this Thursday, I had the sense to walk out of there again before the disaster had time to sneak up on me.

Decided to get back home & have a bath. Did that.

Oh, & I think I've just managed to make the strongest coffee in the history of man kind. My grandmother, who's Zoegas has been known to melt iron, would be proud of me, I'm sure. Just what I needed right now.

The coming weekend has potential to become the rockiest thus far in my young (but fairly rocky, if I might say so myself) life by the way. Friday: Bang Bang Bang. Saturday: Cold War Kids. Sunday: Some other great band Hillary couldn't remember the name of. I like the way things are shaping up over here.

Love & miss

D.

[...] Or Are You a Drug Abuser or Addict?

It's a bright Sunday in Wonderland, it is getting close to pre-dinner-drink time (the only fixed spot in my lazy Chicago days), & my feet are slightly soar. Once again I have been walking the white pavements of Boys' Town, an Intelligentsia XL cappuchino in one hand & a shoppingbag in the other, & a smile on my face more or less constantly. It is an easy life I lead here, sleeping in, walking around, drinking coffee & martinis. Spending time with the lovely uncles, & waiting for Hillary to get here - the count down is now down to 3 days.

Crossing the American border is always an experience. Standing in line like a bunch of foreign sheep. Getting yelled at by fat american custom ladies. Having to answer tricky questions such as (please check box; yes or no):

Do you have a communicable disease; physical or mental disorder; or are you a drug abuser or addict?

Have you ever asserted immunity from prosecution?

Have you ever been or are you now involved in espionage or sabotage; or in terrorist activities, or genocide,; or between 1933 & 1945 were involved, in any way, in persecutions associated with Nazi Germany or its allies?

I love the idea of A. a World War II Nazi still alive, travelling the world (probably still in uniform), & B. James Bond sitting there incognito on an Air France plane, sippin' his Dry Martini & checking the 'yes' box.

Oh America, you're too cute.

Peace, love & understanding (the 1969 way.)

D

A Spring That's Singing

I am crossing an ocean in 7 hours. It used to be a big deal - not so much anymore. My packing is a little hasty, & my mind is a little blurred. But I am truly happy, I just can't stop smiling. ( It has alot to do with a flight leaving tomorrow with me on it, & somewhat to do with A. wine & B. skype & the blonde curls.) This spring will rock my socks off, no doubt.

I can't believe tomorrow night I will be sitting at Intelligentsia drinking the best cappuchino in the world, and the best martini queenies in the world just around the corner. (Slighly hung over, but hey - that's life.) I can't believe within a week this will no longer be love on a screen:

& I definitely can't believe the miss this leaving will bring. Or, yes, I can. I've seen it before. But I've come to understand, where ever I go, where ever I'm at, there will always be miss in some form or some color. So I figured it's just about to get going, you know? To not be afraid of miss. Because really, it's the most beautiful thing in the world.

Song of the day (night!) : 'Song for No One' - Ian Broudie, used to listen to it all the time, found it again by chance on Robert today:

'So yesterday has gone,

Who knows tomorrow may bring all we'll desire.

Tomorrow brings the sun.

Kiss the world with fingers crossed,

I'll kiss the world with fingers crossed.

I've been praised, I've been cursed,

I've been blaimed and I've won and I've lost.'

Love & tired hugs /

Dee

(on her way across a sea).

Packlist - Promised Land Adventures, Spring Oh' 7

Four days to Boys Town Bound, & I guess I should be dancing around, but for some reason I am not. I don't think I've really fully understood yet that I am going, not how long I'll be gone. But whatever, whenever, however I am, if I'm feeling a bit blue there's one thing that always makes me feel better - writing packlists! Oh how appropriate. Usually I just imagine me leaving the next day forever, & then start figuring out what I would bring. Seeing that I am leaving, not tomorrow but almost, & not forever but almost, & aren't feeling blue, but almost - let's do this.

Packlist - Promised Land Adventures

Spring Oh' 7

Ipod - 'Robert', (1)

Laptop - 'Diane Keaton' (1)

Bags (7)

Jeans (2)

Coffee Cup - 'Jesus' (1)

Notebook (1)

Pens (all of them)

Shoes (5)

Hippie dresses (5)

Cat - 'Allison' (1)

Map - blank (1)

Money (a few of them green notes at least)

Book - 'Still Life with Woodpecker', a.k.a 'The Bible' (1)

Coffee, Zoegas (20)

Kaviar - 'Kalles' (1)

Tartex (3)

Swedish Fish - the 'real deal' (500-ish)

Sunglasses (2)

Amazing boots (1)

Cowboy hat (None, for now)

Apple, for the flight (1)

Small Talk (1)

Jewelry (Too much)

Pyjamas (1)

Plektum (None)

Sweater (3)

Gang jacket (1)

Angel wings (2)

Phone numbers (7)

Towel (1)

Mineral water - 'Ramlösa Citrus' (10)

T-shirts & Undies

Bikini (1)

Hungry Heart (1)

Actually that did help. I guess now all I have to do is try to fit all that into a bag. Good luck Dorothy! (Yeah, thanks.) I might want to get started too, as I have promised myself to not do the last-minute-thing any longer. But you know, you are what you are what you have become, there's no teaching a young bird to sit & all of that. Or, to quote Mr Nutinis largest mistake - 'New Shoes' (like hearing Damien Rice singing Disney, what are they doing to that poor kid): 'I'm running late & I don't need an excuse - 'cause I'm wearing my brand new shoes'. Only I am not, I am wearing old ones, & they're not exactly mine either.

They're good shoes though. I love them very very vey much.

Song of the day: 'Hard Road' - Sam Roberts. 'Been dying since the day I was born / 'Cause there's no road that ain't a hard road to travel on'

'Til next time, keep safe.

D.

The Beauty in Miss

I have found thiere is so much beaty in miss. Do you know what I mean? The simple fact that you're lucky enough to have something, or rather someone, to long for is pure gold. True miss comes in more colors than the rainbow, true miss is both an umbrella AND the rain.

We're all shattered for the wind, aren't we. & then you're finding yourself crossing half a world trying to ease the miss, knowing it will only mean you exchange it for another.

She is love.

Fantastic four.

Soon, soon, soon.

Punk.

Mamma.

Shit person <3.

Aw aw aw. 86 days is too long.

Baby brother.

See, I did take a picture. One! & it's great.

Ahah. It would explain alot.

The world is never bigger than when you're loved ones are far away.

But I am finding so much peace in writing songs these days. It's as if my body has been sick & tired & unsatisfied with sticking to words on paper for so long. Writing can be such a silent curse sometimes, & now it's just greatful & happy to finally get to fill the air with vibrations. It's one thing to know what you're thinking - another to say it out loud. As soon as thought makes sound it takes place, not like text - in two dimensions, but in three, as a living thing, & it can not be ignored. Don't get me wrong, I love writing. But for the moment I have a need for melodies. & singing is simply the best thing I know.

Or, wait, scratch that. I think this is the best thing I know:

Followed cloesly by men with guitars, random nights & big leather bags.

Oh, & this is just plainly painfully fantastic humour:

Back to work. Love ya'll, wherever you might be. This is me saying I will miss you, this is me understanding I already am, & this is me finding strenght to be greatful for it.

D

Breakfast at Urban's

The light here is strange today. It's bright, yet temperate, like it's on, but it's on hold. I don't know how to explain it. But it has put me in a funny mood. I just feel indifferent to pretty much everything. That what-do-I-know-who-cares-what's-the-difference-mood. I'm not bitter. I'm not sad - just content with giving shit. It's a strange place to be, but not completely unpleasant. I guess it will pass, eventually. I guess that's a good thing.

My fingers are fucked up from the guitar, & I just realized I'm leaving Europe in 9 days. In other words, the time for action is now. I've got packlists to write, March Hares to color, clothes to wash, coffee to stock. I've got dreams I haven't even started to dream yet. & still, all I want to do is sing. Well, you know what? No more! I can sing in Nashville, I can sleep when I'm dead. This is when & this is where & this is 'here we go' & yes, I have got the cool shoe shine. You bet I do.

Future project; Breakfast at Urban's. Yeah, complete rip-off, modern beat. Will be set here:

Or if I could just secretly live [here]. One of the balcony's might be available. Di Leva can water my plants & Despo can light my... eh ... candles. Yes, perfect! The plan of all plans.

See ya there. Just don't jump in my bed, kay?

Love

D

Key Word: Random (I've got no time to see the sights)

I don't even know where to start. It's been a tough week-end, a crazy week-end, a week-end to remember - eventful & wonderful. Thanks darling, for an amazing stay - I miss you so much already. We make a great team, you know. We make a fucking great team. Four days was way to short, especially when the key word is random & you just ain't got time to see the damn sights. Back home again I am just sitting in my bed, missing the sounds of the city, quietly wondering where the time, money, & brain cells went, & what's going on in Greenwich/Whitecastle/any-where-in-between tonight.

Or how I managed to forget to take one single photo.

Here's the top three bad ideas by the way (funnily enough the top three best ideas happen to be linked to the exact & same events, but we'll get to those some other time).

Bad idea numero uno: Get fucked up the last morning of your stay! Being hung-over on airports are, to those who never have been, really freaky. Add the fact that you'll be terrified that the plan is crashing all through the flight, due to your no longer working sense of balance, & you have a SUPER BAD idea. Yeah!

Bad idea numero due: Leave it to the Englishmen to make sure they have your digits down! Or the Americans. Or the Norweigans. Either every cute guy in London are dyslexic, or someone must have put a spell on us.

Bad idea numero tre: Get fucked up & miss the appointment with a lovely american girl! Yeah, I'm not even going to try to explain myself.

Bottom line: London rocks my socks, defintely. I am a huge fan of the music scene, the dirty clubs, the lovely company of my dear partner in party, & the gorgeous boys - too many to handle, even for me. Not that big of a fan of the expensiveness, the early closing hours, or the sucky water that turns hair into messes. But you know, you can't have it all, & as we all know: 'Actually, mineral water isn't that expensive'.

So yes, I think I might seriously be considering a little London Experience this fall, should I not get accepted to Östra Grevie. After all, there's so much beauty in dirt, so many Thursday nights at Gaz's & so much more research to do. They're a tough one, the English, but well get them figured out eventually. We just need a little more time.

Soundtrack of a messy city:

Jenny Don't Be Hasty - Paolo Nutini

Polar Opposites - Modest Mouse

I Love the Rain the Most - Joe Purdy

Naive - The Kooks

New Shoes - Paolo again

Bakerman - Sean Baker

You & I Both - Jason Mraz

40 Boys in 40 Nights - The Donnas

I Don't Like the Drugs But the Drugs Like Me - Marilyn Manson

Last Nite - The Strokes

If You Got the Money - Jamie T

Float On - Goldspot

Everyday Is a Holiday - Esthero

Good Song - Salem al Fakir

Good Day - Tally Hall

Where Did You Sleep Last Night - Lead Belly

Misery Is a Butterfly - Blonde Redhead

Man Next Door - Operahouse

A Song to Pass the Time - Bright Eyes

Oh, & if anyone sees a tall, blond, pretty Norweigan guy with a pair of knitted, torn, adorable gloves who's answering to the name of 'Haakon', tell him he's stupid & give him my number. Cheers darlings.


Love


/ Dee