Sunday, June 24, 2012

mutato amor

today i'm opening the new blog, mutato amor, but there's not much there for you to read yet.

as i said before, please don't venture there if you're easily offended or if you have a conservative view of how relationships should be. we're better off being friend just here if that's the case.

mutato amor is there to help me work through something that is a rather big issue in my life right and that has colored a relationship in not so pretty colors at times. it's my hope that it will help me, and perhaps even others, to blog about it.

Friday, June 22, 2012


I did get chicken noodle frittata and because I'm at work I have capitals. (I should not blog at work - I'm a bad girl).

There are so many things I wish I had the time to tell you about. There's a lot happening in my life right now. It's like the solstice decided to drag so much energy with it that it caused a storm in my life. It's not all bad, in fact most of it is probably positive but it makes me restless and anxious.

I'm also beginning "the other blog". I will hopefully have time to start it this weekend but please remember that you need to keep your mind open if you go there, and probably your heart to. Personally I would appreciate all the support I can get.

I'm just saying.

Thursday, June 21, 2012

Teaching a young dog to sit

after my last post my shift key actually decided to kill itself, or perhaps it just died a natural death. for now we have to do without capitals, until i get new ones. mmmmkay?

my daughter likes to have a hot meal when she gets home, who doesn't?, but truth be known sometimes we're just too tired. besides, the whole thing we have going with the sourdough rye, smoked salmon, pickles cheese, avocado and assorted other is a good thing. there's something satisfying about building your own sandwich to your particular preference on a particular day.

we decided to have her cook tonight. she's not happy. i'm more amused than i should be. i find it hard not to laugh. soon i hope to be eating a chicken noodle frittata. failing that we'll have sandwiches. again.

Sunday, June 17, 2012

in which i realize - yet again - that time flies

i've not blogged for a week.

i refuse to use capitals today.

i refuse to use capitals not because my shift key is broken or because i'm being lazy. i refuse to use capitals today because life has humbled me to such an extent there's very little shout left in me.

it's a silly reason i realize that but it will have to do for today because it is the best i can do for the moment.

i'm playing with the idea of starting a new blog, a blog that would have to be a separate story to this one because it will offend, it will scare and it will certainly talk about things that most of us are not comfortable talking about. i'm not comfortable talking about them either but i have come to the conclusion that the only way i can work my way through what is happening right now is to write about it.

it is about love.

it is about lies.

it is about opening your heart, swallowing your pride and hoping that there's ultimately something good at the end of it all.

it's about changing everything i believe in, everything that most of us believe in, in an attempt to save something i value.

it will be hard.

it will be the most painful task to blog about how i truly feel.

you do not have to come with me to that blog when i start writing it, in fact some of you would prefer not to, some of you may even chose to stop reading this blog altogether. it is my hope though that you will keep your mind open enough to see that it is a blog about love and the way we view relationships.

Sunday, June 10, 2012

In which I realize that time flies

I've been battling with the idea of calling my parents for the past few weeks. I've not got a good relationship with them.

I left Sweden in 1989 and have lived half my life in Australia. I've only been home once. It took me 14 years to return and when I did I felt apprehensive about it.

Don't get me wrong, I loved going back but I also had it reaffirmed to me that I truly feel like I've never been part of the family. It's not because of anything they do and I know that my brother oddly enough feels the same.

Today I received some photos from my nephew's graduation and among them were photos of my parents and my brother. I was shocked. My parents seemed to have suddenly aged 30 years in the space of five.

So again, I feel a sense of urgency and certainly guilt.

I don't know if it makes me a bad person not to want to got back and see them. I feel an obligation too but I can't see any real good coming of it if I do.

On one hand I feel like such a coward for not wanting to go back but then on the other the psychologist's words echo in my head: "Do you think you should need to be the only one to maintain the relationship and who feels responsible for it? Are they not your parents?"

 Right now I don't know. I just don't know.

I do know though that I don't have a lot of time left in which I can stand face to face with my parents again.

Sunday, June 3, 2012

Cruise v Manson

Whenever I'm doing something completely inane at work I turn to Youtube to have some noise in my earphones. It helps stop thinking too much which I feel is a bonus when you suffer from depression.

So, Friday I managed to see my way through a Scientology video that was made when they honored Tom Cruise with an award for being like a god, and for being the awesomest Scientologist in the whole Scientology history, making him almost as awesome as L. Ron Hubbard himself.

After that I sat through an interview with Charles Manson.

I have to stop here and say that yes, I do wonder why I watched this kind of crap!

Anyway, it struck me that the only real difference between those two, except for the facade, is that Manson asks "Dig it?" after every statement because he knows he's insane and therefor hard to follow. Cruise just talks. And laughs insanely. Maybe the laugh is like Manson's "dig it". I don't know.

Few people scare me. Tom Cruise does though. Whenever I see him I begin to suffer from an overwhelming urge to rescue Katie Holmes.

Dig it?

Saturday, June 2, 2012

Saturday morning

There is a birthday in the house and we started the days with preparing an Osso Bucco in the slow cooker for tomorrow, a pea soup that will be slowly consumed through the week and a Princess cake (a Swedish cake - my favorite which I have never tried to make before).

It felt so great.

We were moving around the tiny kitchen like a well experienced team cutting up vegetables, searing meat and mixing batter for the cake. These are times when I feel content.

There's something so satisfying with taking the time to create a meal that you can enjoy in the following days. Flavors are allowed to develop and you can sit down to a hot meal when you come home from work on weekdays without having to do some sort of hurried cooking action. I love it.

All this is happening now in my house and I feel good about it.

Friday, June 1, 2012

Early morning thought, err, things in my head

It's too early in the morning. It's too early to think poetically. It's even too early to determine how I feel. It's not too early for coffee.

I love my coffee. If there's one thing I don't fancy ever giving up it's coffee. I'd probably give up sex before I'd give up coffee.

I had my first full cup when I was seven years old. No sugar. No milk. I was hooked and that's how I drunk my coffee up until I was 22 years old and husband no. 1 nagged me into putting milk into it. Nowadays I favor a cappuccino in the morning, or several in fact. I even froth milk at work. I've had to cut down on the caffeine though because of stupid depression.

I don't think my love affair with coffee will ever end.

I'm stalling.

I'm performance managing my senior writer and we have our first weekly meeting today with HR to see how he's done this week. It's not looking good. A three page document full of passive voice sentences, product names that are bastardized versions of what Marketing dictates we use and formatting that is nothing like the one in our style guide.

I feel despair. I feel like this performance management is a foregone conclusion. It's making me feel shittier than normal. I could never be an an executioner. I would have to constantly apologize to those I'm executing and I would constantly wonder if I was doing the right thing, if the punishment fitted the crime and if there hadn't perhaps been a miscarriage of justice.

This is obviously why I'm a technical writer and I do a job in which I can carefully craft document with the user in mind in the vain hope that someone will actually refer to the manual. It happens. I'm sure of it. It has to. Please tell me it does!

Do you ever read the manuals for things you buy?

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