Messy

No, I call it differently organized.

Well, this is my working space (when it is not occupied by hubby). Here is almost everything I need - a piece of manuscript, some glue (not to be used on said piece), old candy wrappers, an empty coffee cup, a soft monkey, an empty bottle (from the night before), nail polish, party hats (not from the night before), loads of pens, old batteries and an assortment of happy meal toys. And you wonder why I am no longer very productive? British Library, everything is forgiven - I will come back!

Smell?

I was just about to write a half funny post about the funky smell in our bathroom, and then whinge about English houses. I was then going to joke about how we probably have a dead rat under our bath tub. This is no longer necessary, as it is no longer funny. We have just discovered the said dead rat under the bath. It is beyond horrific! I have the bravest and best husband on the planet (though I might have to be reminded of that at some point in the future), as he is now in there, trying to dig it out from between the boards. I am sitting as far as way as possible, no longer hungry...

...and Tim just ran past in order to get a big gulp from our whiskey jar.

Is there something wrong with me?

It's not even October, and I am already sleeping under double duvets. This morning, even Tim woke up cold and had to switch on the heating. Tonight I see English women walk around town in sleeveless dresses and flip flops. I am shopping for woolly sweaters. There is something wrong with this picture...

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.0

Sometimes you really have to love this city. I just saw two storm troopers walk down Oxford street.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.0

A new pet?

Morning conversation:

Tim - I woke up in the middle of the night by the weirdest noise. I was convinced there was a parrot in the bedroom!

Me - Oh?

Tim - Yeah, so I held my breath to listen for him, but couldn't hear anything strange. But then I started breathing again, and realised that it was just something in my nose that made the noise.

And he wonders why I complain about his snoring?

Things we...

laugh at at the moment:

I don't know. We might just be really weird people...?

The black box

Posh, middle aged, female friend of ours:

- I have an emergency box in case there is a nuclear explosion.

- Oh, what's in it?

- Mineral water and foie gras.

Not that I knew that there is an immediate nuclear threat, but I guess anything goes in an emergency.

A runner

We are having friends of mine visiting this weekend, so there is an obvious need for cleaning the flat. I was sorting papers on the floor (horrible, horrible carpet!), when I saw something strange.

- Tiiiiim, is this a spider or a flower? [Please, God, let it be some funky kind of plant! I'll swear I'll go to church more often.]

- Eh, you want me to say flower, right?

- Yes!

- Eh, yeah, it's a, eh, flower.

- Nooo, it's a dead spider.

- Oh no, it's just the skin of a spider. But don't worry. It is from the running kind, so he won't be in here any more.

Wrong answer! And not comforting! Especially not since I store all my underwear in a bag under the bed...

Storage

After spending three days in bed with a super cold, Tim and I got serioudly bored of doing absolutely nothing in front of the telly. So we, or Tim rather, started a major project - doing something about 'the book situation'.

Both of us have many, many books, and together, well, it's a fairly impressive collection. (I, admittedly, owning more fictional literature, Tim having more on the ancient Greeks and Romans.) Problem, of course, being storage. (And let's not get into how to organize them - my books, his books, mutual books? Who uses one more? By theme? By size? By author?) We only have three bookcases. One being our own (which works partly as a glass cabinet for fancy chrystal glasses), the other two are the cheapest piece of crap imaginable - a basic wooden structure with no back and no sides. They are in fact so unstable that Tim has had to use his belt to tie them together, in order for them not to fall over. Additionally, we have a damp problem in that room, so nothing is allowed to touch the walls!

As we have started to acquire more and more - gifts, purchases, extra copies of our publications, the situation has become quite chaotic, to say the least. Come new solution! We have now moved a small half hight bookcase from the bedroom to a previously unused corner of the living room. (Where we had the Christmas tree last year, and which has until now been used to dump mostly crap in, since we shut off the door in that corner of the room.) It actually created quite a little nice reading corner (minus good reading lamp), and looks quite nice. We are still double stacking all of our books, but at least we're down to only one pile of the floor, rather than piles everywhere. The only problem now, is what to do with the clothes that used to be kept in that bookcase? We have basically moved the issue of storage from one type of object to another - we now store our clothes in piles on the bedroom floor. I fear we might not make it to an IKEA any time soon...

Who's who?

I know I have blogged about it once before, but at the moment I just cannot emphasize enough how much a love the fact that people share their itunes libraries freely with others. (Mine, of course, is strictly personal.) Today I spent the day listening to someone’s ‘Arabic groove’ (their words, not mine). Brilliant! Firstly, it is actually very groovy (can one still say that, without being stuck in the 60s?) and very easy to listen to. Secondly, there’s no way I can sing along (highly embarrassing if done aloud) and I can’t even sit and listen to the words, as they mean absolutely nothing to me. Perfect for working!

Normally you can group people’s libraries into one of three categories: the senior academic (listens to classical and occasionally some jazz, the most modern stuff they have is ABBA), the fresh BA student (listens mainly to pop/rock, usually pretty mainstream) and then the ‘alternative’ phd student (who is trying to be a bit more ‘deep’ and ‘difficult’ than the average person – he or she is, after all, doing some serious research – and thus won’t have anything from the hit lists in the library). Of course these can also be divided into subgroups, and a good bit of gender and queer theory could be applied to it, but I am trying to keep it simple here.

I was thus very surprised when I the other day came across someone’s library, which mostly consisted of Disney music! I looked around. Who is this person? I came up with four possible explanations: 1) a stressed parent (most likely the mother) is sharing a laptop with the kids, 2) someone is doing a major research project on the importance of music in Disney stories (I was, after all, sitting in the Rare books and music reading room), 3) someone in my alternative group has gone way too alternative, or 4) Disney music has suddenly become retro cool (I definitely wouldn’t know) and someone from the young student group is like the hippest person around. Go figure!

Daily wonderings

On the tube they just announced that: "Due to necessary engineering work, there are severe delays on the circle line". I am of course grateful for the information (although I, due to the afore mentioned more or less constant engineering work normally try and stay away from that line), but still cannot help but think that it must mean that there is also unnecessary work?

You know it is going to be a good day...

...when you arrive late to the BL, but manage to find the only empty locker. And then discover that someone has already put a coin in it. Yes, jackpot! (Should I be brave enough to buy a lottery ticket? Or maybe that is pushing your luck?!)

Happy anniversary

Today is our fifth wedding anniversary. Time has truly flown by, although it sometimes feels like yesterday. At the same time, I cannot remember life before us.

In honour of the big day Tim has given me a new super hero name: I am now Tabasco kid! Complementing him as Tiujana Tim. I whinged a bit, thinking I came off with a pretty crappy super hero name (how would I fight anyway? Throwing Tabasco at people?), so I was upgraded (?) to Ipanema Ingela. (*sound of whip*)
So, Tim has since walked round singing Girl from Ipanema, and other evergreens. Who said marriage is boring?

Happy anniversary, sugar. You make my life an adventure!

The latest invention

Tim and I sat on the bus on the way to Bar Boulud, a very swanky restaurant in Knightsbridge. I had just put on some lipgloss, when Tim wanted a kiss.
- Mmmm, he smiled happily. (Not that it was flavoured or anything - you do not have to imagine any retro 80s stuff here - but it probably had some faint fruity scent.)
- Yeah, I smiled back (thinking it is pretty nice to have a husband who still occasionally likes to give you a kiss, even in public.)
- Fruit, he said. You know, they should make those in flavoures that boys like, then we could kiss you all the time. Like beer! Or tikka massala.[Oh, God!] Then you could have one on the upper lip and another one on the lower and it would be like a great meal!
- Eh... Yeah...
[Silence.]
- Or cheese and onion! I really like cheese and onion!

Published with Blogger-droid v1.4.7

Test of the day.

This just came through our letter box. First of all, I am very impressed how they legitimize buying pizza by claiming it is healthy. Secondly, I love their selection of veggies. Spot the odd one out, anyone?

Published with Blogger-droid v1.4.7

Experiences from the tube

Dear fellow Londoners,

Summer is here. It is lovely. Please start wearing deodorant when using public transport.

Thank you! Kind regards,

Distressed traveller

PS. Anyone taking the tube from Leicester square to Covent Garden truly deserves to be hit by the plague and drowned in the Thames, you lazy bastards!

A different kind of cultural clash

(NB! Not for sensitive people!)

Tim had to go to the office today, while I was at home working. On the way back, he walked through China town, where he was more or less attacked by a tiny Chinese woman.

She -You have wife or daughter?

Tim -Yes, I have a wife. (Thinking she was trying to marry off some distant relative or something.)

She -Then you have to buy latest thing in China. Very popular with women. All women drink it.

Tim -Ok? (Very uncertain.)

By then, the woman had started to get very pushy, and Tim decided that he better pick up on the offer, or there would be consequences from the Chinese Mafia. Also, parting with a pound seemed like the easiest way out of the situation.

So, Tim came home with three tubs (?) of the latest thing from China - vely populal with women... jelly juice! Yes, people, you read it right! I'm not sure whether it is juice in jelly, or jelly in juice, but it is suspicious and scary no matter which.

Obviously, I had to try it. Tim had bought 3 of them - orange, peach and mango. I decided to opt for the orange, as it seemed the least likely to be off-putting. How wrong I was! When "pouring" it into a glass, there were first a few drops of yellow liquid, and then a "long string" of jelly (later on it came in small pieces). Topping it up, it looked nothing less than a glass of slightly discoloured spunk! (Although getting it out of the container was more like squeezing zits - sorry, I warned you!)

I don't know about the rest of you - but jelly juice will definitely not be a hit in my books. But, if anyone is interested - there is still peach and mango here for you to try...

One of those calls

Tim was out and about, and I was at home working when the phone rang.

-Hello?

-Hello, how are you? (In very heavy Indian accent, think Apu in the Simpsons.)

-I'm fine thank you, and you?

-I am very well, thank you. Thank you so much for asking. [Oh, for God's sake, just get on with it. You know I don't want to talk to you!] Can I please speak to mrs B?

-Eh, noooo, she is not in at the moment. Can I take a message? [Hehehe, very sneaky!]

-Oh, eh, no, I was just calling about her bank account. I will try again later. Thank you!

And this is when I want to scream - HA! You are not calling about my bank account! Although that would be kind of obvious... But 1) We do not have separate bank accounts, and they would definitely ask for Dr B first 2) My only personal accounts are in Sweden, and why the heck would they have an Indian guy calling me? 3) There's no way on earth a bank would call you on a Saturday.

So, sorry Apu. No business for you!

Stating the obvious

Sometimes I wonder about the labels producers put on their goods. I mean, come on!? New season?

Yes, well, I rather hope that I don't get last year's strawberries, but I also think it would be pretty obvious if I did!

Time to celebrate

Happy birthday, mum. And happy nameday to grandma and me!

I remember clearly the first time I had a nameday after getting together with Tim:

Me (fishing for something) -It's my nameday today. Shouldn't you do or say anything?

Tim (confused) -Eh, happy nameday?

Me (honest) -Thanks!

Tim (still confused) -So, what is a nameday anyway? Is it like a birthday?

Me (a bit distant) -Yeah, exactly like a birthday.

Tim (worried) - So, you get like presents and stuff?

Me (unfortunately sounding surprised) -Presents? Yeah, eh... sure!

I'm sorry to say that Tim didn't buy it. And I still only have one birthday, instead of four... Bummer!

Just one wish

May the person who invented white kitchen counter tops die a slow and painful death and rot in hell for all eternity.

(We are having a friend staying for a few days. I have been left to do the cleaning. Oh, joy!)

Pink

I think I have already posted a picture of this (last year), but I just cannot get enough of these trees. They make the entrance to our normally pretty crappy basement flat seem like heaven!



I cannot say it enough (especially not after the horrendous winter of this year) - England has some lovely seasons and really great whether (believe it or not!). It's not even May, and I am already enjoying sitting in garden in only shorts and t-shirt. (Having said that, I'll bet the summer will rain away...)

Public transport

I normally try and take the bus when I'm going somewhere. It works for most of central London, but then there's a point when you have to decided that it takes too long time. London is, after all, quite a large city, where traffic at rush hour can be absolutely horrible.

The main reasons for choosing the bus are four: 1) it is considerably cheaper than the tube (at least if you don't have to change, any new bus route you jump on will be charged again), 2) you get to see so much more of the town (and suddenly realizes how everything is connected), 3) it is easier to get out if you're trapped (a decent bus driver will let you off even if you're not at the bus stop, if stuck in traffic - on the tube you are basically very trapped) and 4) on the bus you have the chance to get some fresh air (rush hour on the tube in the middle of August is NOT a pleasant experience - especially if you're stuck with your nose in someone else's armpit (they should make separate carriages for short people!)).

Having said that: I just experienced a very unpleasant smell on the bus tonight. First of all you look around, trying to work out who it might be who hasn't washed for a week, or who didn't make it to the loo in time. Hopefully you then discover a clearly strange creature in a corner of the bus who can be blamed for the stench. The worrying thing is those occasions when there's no one obviously responsible. That's when you start to panic a bit, trying harder to locate the smell. And the fear sets in - have you sat in something (is that why there was a seat available?!?), and how do you get out of the situation?

(I have actually once sat on a wet seat. I freaked out completely, until I discreetly managed to sniff my fingers and realized that it was just coke. However, Tim and I have once seen a teenage girl wee on a seat. We didn't sit down for months after that.)

Who said that travelling on public transport was easy?

Home?

Today, for probably the first time, I actually recognised someone by the tube station. Yes, of course there's the absolutely ancient crooked lady, the guitar playing hobo and the aggressive dwarf (very short person/midget/vertically challenged man/whatever) who usually hang around the area (Tim's first encounter with the latter was when he was trying to find shelter from a rain storm, and headed for one of the phone booths, only to be met by said dwarf who was having a pee in there. I think that pretty much sums up the kind of person we are talking about.)

But it feels a little bit like this is home, when you actually recognise some other people in the neighbourhood. Or have I come to that stage in life when I have seen all faces, and they all start to blend into one?

Happy Skärstordag!

Comfort

Tim travels quite a bit, which is nice on those days when you fancy watching chick flicks, eating popcorn for dinner and having the bed to yourself. But it is, of course, less nice all the other days.

But then there are those little things which makes it a bit easier. Like being given a box of chocolates from Beligum.

They are made with love. Aaaah.... (Obviously only bought because Tim was a road trip with his boss, and she made him, but still!) And who can resist that, then the box contains lovely little pieces like this one:

Diamonds might be a girl's best friend, but coffee and chocolate are pretty close to the top too.

Just add to the burden

I am panicking quite badly. This is the most stressful week in a long time (or at least since my last deadline, or possibly my doctoral defence). I am finishing a post doc application, a job application, a serious task for a job interview, a book review and two (long overdue) articles. So, I am trying to calm down by listening to Comforting sounds, by Mew. It is for some reason a strangely comforting song. And I am such a sucker for songs that build up to a massive string crescendo!

Itsy bitsy...

While Scandinavia is suffering from a serious cold, and is buried under tons of snow* we are moving toward a new spider season. Last night, as we were on our way to bed, Tim suddenly told me not to go in to the bedroom. Did I obey him? Of course I didn't! But he had discovered a wolf spider. My hero managed to trap it under a glass (yes, he is far too nice - I would have crushed under a book/newspaper/whatever was close and handy**) and get it out. But I seriously freaked out! Tim tried to calm me down, by saying that at least I didn't have to worry about being bitten. Wrong thing to say - at least when the emphasis is on 'you' rather than 'bitten'. I.e. he normally gets bitten by them. This was followed by a story of how he just to be bitten as a kid, and I remembered the HUGE one I once saw back in Gloucestershire (too big to fit under a glass!), and Tim tried to calm me down again by telling me about all the beasts his Aussie mate was bitten by as a kid. Not helpful! I will from now on sleep on the sofa and never enter the bedroom again...

*While this seems to annoy all my scandi friends and family who desperately long for some sun and spring - suckers! - it has actually spiced up my life. 1) I get to feel like a live in the tropics (one can always dream) and in a very civilized country that has (at least for the moment) working public transport. 2) Mum has changed her normal topic of conversation from "What did you have for dinner? We had..." to "You will not believe how long it took me to get in to/home from work today" and "We have had to shovel snow xx times today". Variation is a blessing!

**Yes, once in my youth I trapped an enormous bug in the middle of a library book. I never finished reading it (or opened it), but returned the book the following day. I still feel just a little bit bad about it.

Please call more often

*ring, ring*

-Hello?
-Good afternoon. Is doctor B there?
-Which one?

Hahahahaha! Oh, that feels good. (And this, folks, is probably the only use I will ever get of that title, so I am bloody well going to enjoy it!)

Numbers - gaaah!

Less of both a rise and a shine today. So tired I can barely remember my own name. My head was buzzing with job, good sentences ("have to remember that one, it'll be great in the introduction") and general hormones (endorphins?) last night, which made me unable to fall asleep even though my body wanted nothing more. Have spent the ENTIRE day trying to fill out forms, making budgets and trying to work out much I should earn (What does one earn? I have definitely been out of work for too long!), and how much I should add for the university's overhead expenses. It is a jungle out there, I tell you! Also, there's a reason why I'm in humanities, and why I got my only poor grade in maths. This is not down my alley! I just feel like I'm wasting the time that should have been spent writing the project description.

Back to life, back to reality

Rise and shine today (well, not so much shine, but I did rise). No more jetlag excuses for me (well, I'm still super tired in the mornings, but can hardly blame different time zones any longer). Today I was an early bird, and met Em for breakfast at King's Cross. Had not seen her in ages, so we ended up having a 2.5 hour coffee session, catching up on more or less everything. (And enjoyed huge American coffees - I have become addicted to the hazelnut kind.)

Then off to the BL across the street. It is almost frightening to see how little has changed since I was last here a few (2-3?) months ago. The same people are still hanging out (read: work) in the reading room: the possible transvestite, the frumpy woman who seems to know everyone, the bloke with the beaky nose, and so on. A few new faces among the members of staff; but the anorectic looking one is still alice (thank God, I quite like her), the little fat one too, the old guy hasn't retired yet, and even the two super grumpy ones were smiling and joking. It feels quite good to be back. In my post-finishing-my-degree-semi-depression I had totally forgotten how exciting the research can be, and how I love the material I am working with.

Now, the countdown for post doc applications has begun...