Do I go for
- a stable, very well paid job which is conveniently temporary and would see me through August 2010, a job I could do sleeping on my head, but which I can’t exactly put down as one embracing anything I am passionate about (except for some random photographing and a human relations bit, human contact, which I like:) ),
or
- a faint possibility of working full-time until end of Dec. this year in a field I am overwhelmingly passionate about but don’t (yet) have all the necessary skills, though a little experience at, for not much but fair money, a job which would be a delightful and cherished challenge for me, with no hope of being employed for longer?
In a fairy tale scenario the latter job gets unexpected funds plus reason to hire me for 10 mths or so. Yay. Y’all pray for that, alright?
Here is a snapshot from my last real work (in Scotland). It was delightful in every way, for all parties concerned:) It was a fun nightmare actually, which I think back on with much regret for not enjoying it more and gladness for being outta there! Made life-time friends there, so ... I'm the dark haired beauty in the back, sitting near Jilly and Aileen, while Pat was manning the front desk. Boss man Alan has shaved his mustache, grown some hair, gotten contacts, lost the tie & some weight since. On second glance, that may not even be him in the photo ...
Then I can envision myself actually executing my fledgling plan of leaving Iceland for somewhere … else.
In other news: my kittens are hard little workers, so they are; they just awoke from their nearly all day nap. I don't think I play with them enough. That's a topic for another kitten-filled blog entry!
Uneventful day, but there’s always lots to write about. My cats for instance:) Obsessions and music, too.
Ninjai just came around the corner carrying in her mouth a toy mouse by the tail (carrying by the tail a toy mouse in her mouth? Kitten – mouth – toy mouse – hanging by the tail). She looks like such a hunter, and she is rather convincing as one while playing with this particular mouse, a favourite toy of hers. But that’s in the flat; once outside she is the prissiest of kittens, and I don’t think she’ll ever bring me anything living, like a bird. Not even a worm or fly. Not my Ninjai. She once caught a leaf outside though, I witnessed her attacking it as it lay defenseless on the ground, and she was conflicted when she saw me trying to herd her and Nala inside. Stay and finish offing the leaf or go inside with my human? She dropped the leaf, ran to me, then ran back to the leaf and frantically tried to pick it up again, then came running again to go inside. Playfully frantic and over excited was she. So cute! :)
And while I’ve been listening to music and watching some shows off the internet, Nala has been circling my very nice speakers, trying to figure out what’s going on inside there. She does that whenever the speakers are on, and I am amased at how good her hearing is, or rather I am amased that she can distinguish between sounds from the telly, from me, from the road outside, and the ones coming from the speakers. She will push the wee speakers around sometimes in an attempt to unlock the mystery. Tonight she left them alone though. I am not sure how much more falling on the floor they can handle.
I’m in the middle of listening to uncountable versions of Beyoncé’s Halo on YouTube. I get obsessed about things, especially music, and I like it that way:) Only when my mental health is off kilter do I view this obsessive repetition of songs or behaviour as negative. I don’t sit and rock back & forth for hours, though, thankfully, in case you wondered! It’s more like if I am ‘mid-mania’ or somewhat depressed I spend a lot of money on excessive amounts of things like shoes, bedding, make-up, books, whatever I feel I need. I try to buy things in bulk, huge quantities which will last me a lifetime:) Gotta get all colours, shades, types, etc. You never know what tomorrow brings, you never know when you’re gonna need these items, and you never know when you’ll have the money next to buy them.
On the positive side, I credit my tendency to obsess with my quick acquisition of the English language when I was little, as I read and listened to English every opportunity, and this obsessive interest in music also seared onto my brain an endless amount of tunes and lyrics, and that’s only good.
One of my nephews is like me, the obsessive type; his mum and I see a lot of me in him. I try to look at is as a positive thing, like above, since I’ve never suffered much from playing the same song over and over again countless times. Only my purse suffers when the repetitiveness manifests itself in extended shopping sprees. My nephew hasn’t suffered from a music overdose either, and he is ridiculously good with money for a 15 yr old, so it’s all good.
When it comes to listening to a particular song on repeat for, ehm, a loooong time it is simply a way of purging feelings, of learning new things (new English words, song lyrics, vocal techniques etc), and just really getting what it is I am interested in under my skin.
Feels good at any rate. Unless it’s a manic phase, like I said.
Generally, for me, this obsession has to do with music, and today it’s that Halo song. I know, it’s juvenile, and it’s mass-market pop. What can I say?
Scores of amateur singers have uploaded their versions on to YouTube; many are not too bad, either. I like the irregularities and complexities of this song, and I recognise which parts are tough for me to sing – basically all of Beyoncé’s rapid sliding is beyond my capabilities – so now I am seriously thinking that I should take those singing lessons I’ve always wanted. I love singing, and I’ve enjoyed being in various choirs over the years, but I confess that I don’t like rehearsals as much as I do just belting it out, so perhaps I am more of a social / party / karaoke singer. I am eager to learn techniques, so perhaps I will look into that and not just think about it!
I think the world is lucky that YouTube wasn’t around when I was a teenager. I got a record player when I was 14 and I spent years in my room listening to 10,000 Maniacs, Leonard Cohen, Cat Stevens, Michelle, Wham!, and yes Roger Whitaker; I wasn’t just listening though, I sang along as well and tried as I could to mimic the voices and all of the singers’ intonations etc. I sometimes recorded myself singing, and I would certainly rather likely have posted vids of myself singing on YouTube had it existed at the time:) My older sister and her friends once got a hold of a tape with me on it and they were gonna send it to this talk show, and get me on it as one of their amateur performers. Thankfully they didn’t! The show was crap, the host is this big Icelandic celeb who’s had a very sad and rough life and is very nice, but I didn’t particularly like him, though when after decades of boozing he was forced to move to Thailand where he died pool side and was brought back to life, I started liking him:)
I don’t get what this Halo song is about, I keep thinking someone is dead, but it don’t much matter to me. I just like the melody. So did these folks below; there are sooooooooooooo many truly gifted singers who’ve posted their own versions, so much talent in the world:)
But here are the ones I’ve listened to and who stand out:
Sam Tsui (i like him v much)
Lisa Lavie (don’t watch her too closely, just listen … okay, watch and you’ll see why i said not to watch)
skinnyjeans / tapered jeans: i never wore them quite like this when 7, nor do i now.
I am sitting at home tucked nicely into new jeans that are pretty near identical to the jeans that were in in 1980. Oui, I was alive and old enough to know about fashion that year, and not ashamed of it. Anymore! I was 7, living in Copenhagen, and had two wants for school-beginning: a fabulous, brown, three-tiered pencil case, and ‘carrot jeans’. Gulerodsbukser*.
I was ultra-proud to have the money to pay for my pencil case myself, and I did so, finally, after dragging my mum to the shop umpteen times to look at it from all angles and with all possibilities in mind. I figured it would have to last far into my future, perhaps my whole life!, so it had to be perfect! The jeans I don’t actually remember that well, though I do remember being like all the others when wearing them. Phew!
Now they’re back and I’ve got a pair, and so the words of my mother’s mother, Sigrún Benedikta Kristjánsdóttir: “life is an eternal merry-go-round”, have come true in my lifetime.
Last night I had a fun, nice, warm & fuzzy dream, and tonight I thought I’d share it with a friend who happened to be in it. After I’d emailed him I thought it might have been a mistake, but then I remembered that everyone is responsible for their own reactions, and if he is upset, so be it. Though I recognise that being in someone’s dream can be upsetting to some, this dream wasn’t that upsetting! I hope!
I am learning, in therapy and outside, about myself and the world. It’s mostly good, and if not good, then it’s something to learn something more from! How Pollyanna is that!
Here I was thinking I was alone in finding some men 'unavilable' ...
I’ve learned, for instance, something important about the men I choose and fancy:
They are unavailable.
They’re missionaries, emotionally stifled, of a different ‘persuasion’ than I, religious or otherwise, otherwise engaged, to name a few variables.
I dare say many an LDS girl has had a crush on a missionary. In my case he was ‘all that’ until I spotted spelling errors in his love letters, at which point I completely lost interest. Shallow, sure. I haven’t quite outgrown that one, th0ugh …
For someone who analyses words, feelings and actions as much as I do, I am often very ill informed about the reality of things, and I am acutely aware of this. By that I mean that I often feel / think a certain way but figure it’s just me, I’m the only one. I am not aware that others have or have had similar experiences / feelings / thoughts. Therefore, I am often very busy trying to see if my thoughts / feelings are in accord with universal harmony. If I knew they were, or when I find out that they are, my feelings etc are normalised and generalised in my mind to the point that they become acceptable, to me at any rate, understandable and, most significantly perhaps: I realise that my feelings / thoughts are not caused by my BiPolar, they are not my fault and they most certainly are not due to my worthlessness.
It would, you see, be very typical for someone like me to assume that the men I refer to were only unavailable to me, this due to my worthlessness; I cannot tell you how many years I’ve spent thinking like this. As I don’t speak about my innermost concerns and issues with friends and relatives much, but rather post them online and pretend it’s all anonymous;), it’s good for me and refreshing to see so many sites, books, t-shirts, jokes etc on the unavailable type. Deep inside I always suspected it was them, not me - that they had/have emotional shortcomings, like everyone does, to some degree!, and it wasn’t my fault, or due to their lack of love towards me (again, to be blamed on my worthlessness) that they couldn’t be there for me. Perhaps all or some never loved me at all, and in some cases I believe this is true, but this doesn’t really account for their unavailability. You can give of yourself, be there for someone else despite.
I have other issues with which these guys had to deal. And they didn’t, not very well. Thankfully, these issues will soon enough belong to the past, where the guys are who just couldn’t give enough of themselves, to/for me.
When one partner is (emotionally) unavailable and the other has 'issues' which prevent them/me from dealing with that, it's only logical that they're both going nowhere slow ... Having had the experience, I maintain that one shouldn't, bc it isn't good for one, put up with any unavailability in a partner. Be there, or be square, haha! :)
Men have been nice enough to me, I ’spose, despite our mutual short-comings. The ‘otherwise engaged’ in particular, and I’d like to think that the ‘emotionally unavailable’ have matured enough to have nothing but pda and loving words & gazes to show their future loved ones that they’re all theirs.
Whatever you read out of this is your concern. For me, I’ve finally recognised a pattern, and as it hasn’t been the best for me, perhaps now that I recognise it, I can do something about it!
*The words for carrot in Danish and Icelandic, and probably other languages, is yellow roots. Makes sense, eh? Though orange roots would make more sense.
i wouldn't mind trying this
I had one today.
Lovely:)
I always have trouble understanding people who say they don’t like getting a massage.
I also sometimes have trouble understanding the masseuse, as some of them say weird stuff.
I would prefer them to not say a word, and some are good that way, but they always have to talk a little bit. Just a little … I wish I had the lack of etiquette to tell them that I will let them know if they are causing some discomfort, but unless I pipe up, they are to remain quiet.
Today’s masseuse was a new one to me, as I now have to go to a new place which is somewhere easily accessible by walk. She was quite good, though I didn’t get as pampered as I wanted. Next time. She also talks a lot, but it was educational mostly which was good. It was okay, I guess, not great, all the talking I mean – she did say some weird stuff, too …
I am a firm believer in our bodies being made for self-healing, and that it has ways of letting us know when something is wrong. I believe that our environment and foods provide plenty of pollutants which hinder this process. I only believe, I don’t have a clue about how it actually works. I like it when scientifically minded people feel the same way and are able to express their theories scientifically, as opposed to weirdly!
The lady masseuse today said things like:
Just know that when you sweat your body is crying. I like saying that instead of being negative and saying things like it’s yucky sweat .
She did add that once you recognise that your body is crying, the next step is accepting it, and then finding out why so you can fix it. So it’s all good, makes sense – makes more sense than just saying it and leaving it at that. What would be the point? And what a weird point! Saying your are sweating makes you feel yucky, but saying your body is crying might make you wanna hug yourself and fix whatever is wrong! :) But still … it’s silly:)
When massaging my chest (modestly), this is what happened:
Masseuse: Hmm I am ‘getting something’ about your lungs.
Steinunn: Well, I am okay, but I was diagnosed as having asthma when I was 16. I quit using the inhaler when I was 26 and haven’t needed it since. Frankly I am not sure I ever did, though I must admit that even when I was really fit my lungs never quite followed my body’s level of fitness.
M: Do you remember your birth?
S: Ehm, no. Should I?
M: Some do. Was there any trauma in connection with your birth?
S: Nope, birth was okay, but I was born with under-developed bronchi! :) (I giggle at this, bc hitherto this has just been an irrelevant and slightly amusing fact, nothing more; tonight my mum told me it was actually my trachea or windpipe which needed more stewing).
M: That makes sense. Was there much stress or grief surrounding the pregnancy (in which I was a fetus (sp?)?
S: Not really, though my mum did smoke at the time like everyone else. Perhaps there was also some stress bc my mum had one daughter already and was having another, supporting us all on her own.
M: Hmmm so, much stress, much sorrow, grief.
S: No, not really grief or sorrow, though I don’t know, but very likely stress.
M: Mmm grief. Yes.
S: Okay then, grief it is! So this could have caused by lung issues and/or the under-developed bronchi?
M: Yes. (big smile)
She is very smiley, and very convinced of what she was saying. She is also very unique in the way she recognises that not everyone believes what she is saying, and she never pushes her views on you. On me.
Like I told her, I’ve had some issues with my lungs, but nothing too serious, just difficulties breathing:) I don’t have any of the diseases one would associate with this symptom, (and don’t say I’m just out of shape, I refer you to the above), so why not believe what the masseuse said? She also has received training in cranio sacral and other techniques. She is wise in this area. Nice to listen to for another point of view.
I can’t remember any other phrases verbatim, but she did say stuff like ”breathing into the pain”, which I’ve never understood before today. I think they describe it in such a weird way bc there is no way to fully explain it; you gotta experience it. She massaged some painful spot on me, which indicates something is wrong, clogged up energy somewhere, and when I ground my teeth to cope, she instructed me to “breathe into the pain” instead. Like when giving birth – and I really don’t know why I haven’t ever made this connection before. Why would that funky breathing technique not be good for other painful instances? Huh? Well, it is, it works. Once you realise what it is you are breathing ‘in to’.
She also mentioned this a few times in connection to acting on a wish/need/desire to do something specific – she said something about connecting yourself into the decision, by breathing perhaps. I can’t quite remember, but again, it sounds a bit silly yet I can’t help but think that it would work. It’s basically meditation. And since when has that hurt anyone?
I think if I were to admit having any probs with alternative therapies, it’s only when the wording is cuckoo and loopy, you get my drift. So, I will look past that and analyse like I am always doing anyway, put it in words I understand and like, and voila! I will be … I dunno what, but I will have learned something!
First Karzai was chosen as the United States of Europe & America’s obedient puppet President of Afghanistan.
He was a good little puppet for a long time.
Until he couldn’t do it anymore.
Thankfully for the ones with stocks invested in the puppet’s actions, it was time for elections.
Karzai wanted to run again, and Abdullah Abdullah ran for president, too.
Karzai won. Not by a landslide, but he did.
The puppet masters were less than impressed.
Then, boom! Fraudulent votes came to light!!
The world community figured it would be a much better idea not to follow due course as tradition states it should be done in Afhganistan, so instead of hearings and trials the Afghan way bc of the fraudulent votes, a repeat election, the peculiar way, was announced. A re-election featuring the same men who’d run in the election just before, with the fraudulent votes.
Europe and America didn’t want an unruly Karzai, hence the repeat election. A presidency shared by the two men seemed like a better, and the only option, to the two big shot continents.
They must have watched The Office’s Oscar talk about Jim’s promotion into co-manager’s role:
Look it doesn’t take a genius to know that every organization thrives when it has two leaders. [shakes head] Go ahead, name a country that doesn’t have two presidents. A boat that sets sail without two captains. Where would Catholicism be, without the popes.
Then they realised that Abdullah Abdullah was really not someone they wanted in power after all, and out of the two bad options, Karzai was the better one.
As if by magic Abdullah withdraws. Hmmm.
Karzai is president.
I’ve got my news sources, and I’ve got my guys on the ground. Whichever way you see it, and however you get your ‘intel’, it really does seem like the world is a platform for constant battle of world dominance and power in regions the one fighting have no business in! Europe and America deciding who is president of any country outside their boundaries is just wrong. Self-interest all around, greed, evil evil greed.
Enough of this, I’m going to have a massage.
It’s cute when I open my bedroom door in the morning to find two wee kittens sitting there and waiting patiently for their caregiver to wake up. They look up into my eyes and then proceed to greet me lovingly by meowing, and one tends to bite my toes affectionately. If it’s only Nala sitting there she will generally meow and try to open the door by scratching at it to get me out of bed. It’s just so cute that when they wake up they go to the door which leads them to me, sit down and wait for me!
It’s adorable how the kittens seem to want to help me when I am busy doing stuff, other than cooking. They of course think I am playing with them when I am emptying their litter box or dusting, but their little paws trying to reach the scooper and cloth or whatever I am using are just too adorable. They don’t consider vacuuming a game; they scamper when I turn it on, and today Nala escaped outside.
It’s funny and sweet, and clever!, that Nala found a way to sneak out (I still haven’t figure out how she did it) like she did today and when after quite some time I finally realised she was gone and went out go get her, she saw me from where she was sitting up a tree, and heard me calling, and came straight to me. Purring. Good girl. Then struggling when I picked her up, bc she knew she was being grounded.
It’s adorable that Ninjai and Nala forgo their store-bought toys to play with crumpled up receipts or candy wrappers almost exclusively.
It’s so sweet how Ninjai wants to lick my legs dry after my shower, and how she thinks anytime is a good time to climb up my legs and back to sit on my shoulders, no matter what I am doing. Sometimes I catch her getting ready, and it’s also too sweet – she sits there twitching, her back legs and behind moving from side to side ever so slightly as she gets ready to jump and then climb up.
It’s sweet how the two kittens want to nap with me if I nap, sleep with me at night, sit with me when I am knitting or watching telly, wait in the bathroom when I am showering. I know I feed them and part, yes only part!, of their affection is food related, but it’s all the same. I know they love me, and I love them:)
I am not sure if it’s sweet or cute or pathetic to be amased at the trust and love some little furry creatures show me, but I don’t need to analyse this. It feels nice, that’s all that matters.
Awwwwwwwww
I learned this proverb (?) / phrase from Elsa, my once-upon-a-time YW leader. Or was she our general youth leader? Not sure. She was cool though. Is cool, I think. I remember having this written down on a tiny piece of paper, her handwriting as I recall, and though I didn’t quite understand it I was thrilled to learn from it new English words, and slightly worried that it meant that I was beautiful. Or that it meant I was only beautiful to Elsa. Ambivalent abt both possibilities. A clear sign of Early Childhood Over Analysis Syndrome. It hasn’t cleared up much!
In regards to Elsa, I will never forget my disappointment when showing up at her house for a youth night and being served Chinese ground beef pancakes!! I entered her cool near-city-centre flat (which I promised myself I’d rent from her when I was old enough, though this never panned out) to the sweet smell of crepés in the making. She rushed to the door to let me in, then straight back into the kitchen to finish the batch. I went with her and saw a bowl of ground beef. Mmmm exciting, thought I. Then I went into the living room for some chit chat with the other youth. Or probably not, I was shy. There was a boy there who, rumour had it, fancied me and this was devastating to me. Not bc he wasn’t great. It had more to do with the Jante law, haha, see previous post. The thought of others thinking that perhaps I thought that I was something special, someone worth fancying, horrified me. Anyway, Elsa let us into her kitchen and to my horror she’d rolled up what I’d thought to me the main course inside what I’d thought to be dessert! Elsa þó, what were you thinking? I never was particularly scared of trying new foods, but I recall eating this dish reluctantly. I’ve changed since, and I hope Elsa didn’t notice my reaction at the time. It was juvenile. I will now send her the link to this post :)
—————————————————————————————————————————-
I just got back from Couples’ Retreat, the movie. Not bad; predictable, good fun. Spoilers up ahead. Only the yoga scene was unexpected, as were the characters’ reactions to their yoga instructor. Boom boom. He was built like a Greek god, spoke with an eSpanish accent, kept saying “regard me” when he wanted them to watch him and do as he did haha, and his voice sounded like that of Kiefer Sutherland. A great combo of characteristics. My intuition-based intel reveals that this actor, Carlos Ponce, smiled more in his 15 mins on-screen than Kiefer has in all of his big and small screen work combined!
I don’t think the ‘values’ and pearls of wisdom left behind by this film are far off, though most importantly I learned to do my research and do it well when it comes to choosing a place to go for a couple’s retreat. Also: why anyone would fly to Bora Bora for a stumpy little week’s worth of holiday is beyond me, and bordering on insanity, if not self-torture & punishment. ‘Curtailed of its fair proportion’ is the lengthy phrase that springs to mind, just like that! After finding it on dictionary.com.
I am almost certain that none of the women touched, or have ever touched, any of the carbs on that table. The men however - well, no one cares what they look like, right? There are more pics out there of these peeps half-naked, but I leave it to you to search for them. This will show how interested you are in what I wrote ha! :)
All the ladies in the film, whether they had speaking parts or not, but I refer mainly to Malin Akerman, Kristen Bell, Kristin Davis, Kali Hawk and Tasha Smith, had super hot bodies. Did I just type ’super hot’? I blush. Super duper hot is what I meant to write.
Will this expectation – to look perfect – ever be lifted off women? The men don’t need to look anything nearly as good as the women. Vince Vaughn looks good, but he ain’t ‘built’, as it were. He’s got a good build, but were he a woman he’d never have gotten a part in this film, despite his obvious comedic talent, and despite the fact that the womens’ roles weren’t abt their bodies. Jason Bateman was more in line with the women so I won’t spend much time on him. The other men, Faizon Love and Jon Favreau, are just not in shape, short and simple. Also, both are short … The above yoga teacher is built like nobody’s business, but then he’s meant to be, the role depends on it, so it doesn’t quite count.
In the film there are supporting actors, of course, whose physiques are of no consequence. In the case of the males, they are allowed to look all sorts. There are the single party guys and gay masseues, all really fit, and then there’s the therapists, the ‘couple whisperer’ guy, and some hosts and random others, who can only be described as having freely-shaped and random looking bodies. One guy spoke like Chewbacca. That was funny.
I dare say all of the women in the film who didn’t have speaking parts were very fit – this being bc un-fit girls don’t go to beach resorts to enjoy themselves and perhaps hook up! They don’t hook up in general at all, right? I know this comedy isn’t a factual documentary, but though fun and innocent it does manage to maintain harmful stereotypes. The only unfit woman in the film, and she wasn’t fat by any description, was a therapist. So, she’s well educated and smart; she’s allowed to be normal. The furthest the script writers could go to make a funny scene with the the non-essential but beautiful and fit masseuse lady, was to give her a horrid (Dutch) name, bc the (sex starved) chubby, short and so-so looking male she was massaging couldn’t be seen getting aroused by some normal woman with a normal name, let alone an ugly fat one. Not even if she were called Savannah Eve, or something heavenly like that. Hmm my logic kinda ran aground there, but you know what I mean, right?
I should probably pause and say again that I did enjoy the film:) Analysing is just fun, and sometimes essential.
Faizon Love’s very very heavy-set physique is of consequence, as it’s made fun of in the film – by him only come to think of it -, and then we are to giggle at the fact that his 20 yr old girlfriend wants him at all, and that his wife is coming back to him. Cruel, and such jokes are seldom if ever made about women.
Do I want fat women in movies and jokes made abt them? Not necessarily, though I am rather non-bothered, but really not really on the latter point, to be honest.
Normal people in films would be nice, which would facilitate a greater focus on the subject matter and make any reference to and jokes about body times irrelevant, unnecessary, pointless. That’s what I’ll say when answering that beauty queen question abt one wish, to which most respond: ‘world peace’.
So, men can be fat, unfit, and unattractive, and we can make fun of it. This is a no-no with women.
Women must have perfect bodies, and this may or may not be of importances to the plot. It may or may not be mentioned.
Basta. No other rules apply, and no variations allowed!
Where is this going? I am not the only one who finds the pressure on actresses to have a perfect body ridiculously unfair on them, and very dangerous for impressionable girls. And likely boys, too, what do I know. The men get away with whatevah look they want, but the women, though no one mentioned this in the film, have ridiculously fit bodies, especially for busy working mothers and busy successful carreer women. I think! I am none of these – not fit, not a mother, not successful, not a business woman, not that busy, so … :) I do however read stuff and hear things, so I know weight dilemmas are out there. Body image dilemmas rather. I have a body, and my feelings abt it cause dilemmas. So I know.
Like when this Lizzi Miller photo was published back in September. It was in Glamour magazine and Lizzi’s 
plus-size figure caused such a crazy stir. She is what’s called a plus-size model, which is why I used that term above. As Glamour’s editor put it, Lizzi is
” … “plus-size” one by modeling industry standards, though hello, at size 12 she’s actually “normal size” … As Genevieve Field writes in our November issue, most “plus-size” models actually aren’t plus-size humans. It’s one of the perversities of the modeling industry that women are moved into “plus” divisions once they’re anything larger than a six. (They actually have to wear cutlets and padding to model plus-size clothing.) Strange but true.
At sizes 12-14 is how I feel the best about my body, so after the necessary facial cosmetic surgery haha I will be a plus size one model. With my bone structure and at 1,71 cm, I cannot be any thinner and expect to live healthily. I let you be the judge when it comes to this Lizzi deal, but after all I’ve said above I think you know where I stand. I am overweight and hate it, but judging someone else for their fat … no way! Not for anything.
Obesity is dangerous and many actually believe they are helping obese people by shocking them into reality with rude remarks, or polite ones, whatever they sound like. Not really effective, folks. We might do well to stay out of others’ business and just love ‘em, not judge ‘em. O where has the love gone? The tolerance? The ‘live and let live’? Let’s get it back!
I dare say that Lubna in Baghdad speaks for us all … at least for me and for those of you whom I care to know!:
Oh my God, in some parts of the world a photo of a female super-model with a small roll of fat around her stomach is causing a huge fuss, while in other parts of the world people would argue about for e.g. “Why don’t we have ‘national’ electricity in our neighbourhood for almost a week now?!”
Read this comment in its entirety (in one of the above links) and you’ll see that this sweetheart from Bagdhad couldn’t resist mentioning Lizzi’s weight in the end. I forgive her; she’s an overworked, idealistic med. student. I think Lizzi is probably aware of any probs obesity causes, but though not a med student, I’m almost certain that Lizzi is not actually obese. What do you think?
The articles I’ve linked above are not bad; read them, you’ll find something useful for you and your children abt body image. The below interview is awright, too:
In regards to others’ comments about one’s weight, I had an odd experience the other day. My first fat attack and hopefully the last. I was walking out from a shop on my way to volunteering. I had a bottle of fizzy berry water in my hand, and nothing else. The sweets were hidden in my bag:) As I was near to turning a corner I heard a woman I’d just passed say:
Miss, shouldn’t you be thinking of going on a diet?
What? What? WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT!!!!
I assumed I’d heard wrong, for not only am I not that fat that people are worried abt me on a daily basis, but also this: strangers don’t talk like that to one another. Do they? Not in Iceland, they don’t. We also don’t use the word miss (fröken), unless it’s meant as a (hilarious! :) ) joke, or you are older than 97, so I really thought I’d misheard her – or no, not misheard her, just heard wrong; the words seemed to come from the voices in my head. I was going to look back to see if she was really there. I didn’t have to, as she quickly repeated herself, saying:
Huh? Shouldn’t you be thinking about that?
Though I am not normally a violent person, I knew I’d punch her cold were I to turn around and face her. So I just walked on. Thankfully there was that corner up ahead, and I turned it, knowing I was escaping her. But not before glancing back quickly. What I saw was this old looking bag lady type person; she looked certifiable, and yes I am judging, but she started it!
I am working up the courage to lose the weight I must lose to feel good. But I don’t need to people to tell me I’m fat. I am well aware of it. It astounds me that people honestly think they must correct others’ behaviour, appearance … It’s different if it’s a loved one who is clueless abt the dangers of obesity, or dunno they are rude by nature, or whatever. Then we, as their close friends or relatives or loved ones, tell them, nicely. Yeah?
I almost wanna get obese (I am still under the ‘required’ weight to be obese:) ) and then go on the circuit to teach people to shut it and work out their own salvation, with fear and trembling, etc etc. Sheez.
————————————————————————————————————
I actually started out just wanting to write: Facebook status updates and Twits are show-offy, voyeuristic, and pointless. I agree with this, and I am reading this and hearing all over the place.
But there are exceptions. People like reading updates, Tweets, and blog entries from those they love. And in the case of Twitter, people love reading Tweets in regards to info on something or other, which they follow on there.
No random stranger really enjoys all my kitten posts (though I’ve received a few emails saying the opposite:) ); Ninjai and Nala are just cats, and not that unique, though I think they are. But the people who love me love my entries abt them.
I like to read what friends and family are up to via updates or blog entries. I am friends on Fb with a bunch of girls from school whose updates are always like this: “Finished cleaning, now going to have risotto and a red with my ridiculously rumscious hubby (I made that up!)”, or “Body Pump at 6am, then baking for bake sale, drove kids to school, got the cats neutered, picked up the cat sitter, visited my nan in the old folks’ home to arrange her 95th birthday and my pop’s funeral, knitted some socks for relax-time, bought the urn, finished big project at work, all before noon. Go superwoman me!”.
These bore me to tears. I’ve hidden them from view. I must say though that the latter example of a status update often comes with a “Wonder how long I can keep this up?” or “Hope I have the energy to do this tomorrow, too” , which has been useful to me in realising that though I cannot always do everything I am not a lazy sloth at all, like I’ve often felt, and been made to feel. Thanks insufferable women on Fb. Now go hide.
We do find beauty … okay not beauty but interest, right?, in blogs and updates that concern us.
The beauty and the value of a blog entry and status update is in the eye of the reader. St.Pie
You may quote me.
Ég get ekki orða bundist!
Having an opinion on a tv show should be very low on my list of priorities, as should be writing a review.
I am not going to write a review, I just have to say again: Joseph Fiennes is doing a fine job of interfering with my suspension of disbelief.
I’ve watched some America’s Next Top Model, which is where I get my vast knowledge of acting techniques. If you need to portray a certain feeling, you are definitely not to go for the most obvious expression. It’s all about expression, and with all his studies and experience, Joseph F always manages to land on his feet (?) showing some expression he must have found on Stock Photos. It distracts me, okay, and annoys.
I’ve already mentioned Joseph botching the American accent, but I haven’t mentioned his whispering-habit. Why would anyone speak like that? Now that he’s started to move his head like Horatio Cane from CSI: Miami, I am just not sure if I can watch anymore.
Casting Dominic Monaghan as a brainy lothario slash sociopath is laughable. He doesn’t carry the role in any way, shape or form. I suppose any actor would want to step out of being type-cast, but this is going too far, folks!
Courtney B. Vance as the FBI boss does smug from episode 1-6 no matter what he’s trying to portray, and there is something super dodgy about Brian F. O’Byrne’s accent – he’s likely Irish and not hiding it all too well? Doesn’t bother me though, it’s not phony like Joseph F’s attempt. It’s kinda warm and nice.
I also noticed a couple of discrepancies: In one scene FBI boss says to Marc: ” … and now you tell me you were impaired when you had it”, referring to Marc’s flash forward. He wasn’t impaired when he had it, he was impaired in it. Right? And there was another one … can’t remember! Doesn’t matter anyway :)
To be positive I must say this: I just now found out that Sonya Walger, who plays Dr. Olivia Benford, wife of Joseph Fiennes’ character Marc, is from the UK! She doesn’t sound like it at all; I never get preoccupied with how she’s saying things when she’s in the frame. Good work, Sonya :)
So yes, I will continue to watch despite the obvious huge flaws, flaws that distract which is why I even bother mentioning them. I shall watch bc I like sci fi, and bc of Sonya, John Cho (as Special Agent Demetri Noh), Christine Woods (as Special Agent Janis Hawk), and Lee Thompson Young (as Special Agent Al Gough) who all make it watchable. Doesn’t hurt that Lee has the most beautiful eyes! And these characters all are interesting and rather genuine, so it’s them, and the story line, of course, which will keep me watching.
Another way to waste time ;)
Happy Halloween Birthday Alan. Hope you have a scary one, hehehe.
It’s gets funnier every year, eh? ;)
Cats & Dogs
For the second time in my life I am trying to find the home of a stray cat which I feel too sorry for to leave to fate. The one time this happened before I also had cats. I only had them for 3 yrs. Isn’t this an interesting coincident? Or is it just
Thom Stray
bc I have cats that I feel I must do something to help the lost ones?
This one is a handsome tabby Thom (he’s cooler than a simple Tom cat), very soft and loves to be cuddled. He is heavy and will lie still like a baby on his back while I hold him. My cats managed to scare him away by being super friendly but I am pretty certain he won’t stray far. Tomorrow I will be able to find his home by calling the animal hospital and quoting the number tattoed in his ear.
Ninjai and Nala are getting used to much travelling, as I sometimes take them with me on visits. They are also used to other animals, and my dream of them becoming best friends forever with my cousin/friend’s labrador, Apríl, is coming true:) Apríl loves being around them; she loves their food and treats even more. She wags her tail and licks the kittens’ faces and ears, never showing any sign of hostility, and it’s just too cute! Especially as they seem to enjoy it.
Ninjai is bit unbothered now when they meet, but Nala tries to play with Apríl, while Apríl just sits still, not knowing quite what to do when Nala boxes her softly on her nose and each side of her face with her wee paws. While they play Apríl makes a weird sound, which she only makes on one other occasion: when she’s in heat. I’ve deduced from this info and the circumstances surrounding the sound being made that it’s probably her breeding sound, and when she sees such little cute creatures she instinctively wants to have little puppies! Hence the heat-noise.
DIY
I am working hard, probably too hard, on our communal stair well. It really needs new paint and floor-stuff; basically it needs to be fixed up completely. But for now I am just making it presentable, and I am finding myself purchasing and using a super large size of nails to hang up all our tools, plus tearing old tables away from walls, scrubbing floors and walls which haven’t been cleaned in years – old dirt was so stuck on the floor that when I say scrub I mean scruuuuuub, and planning to do things like sawing legs off above table, then making it sturdier, and placing all our washing machines on it so we don’t have to bend down when stuffing our washing in:) I can do a lot of things, but drilling and sawing are a bit tricky. We shall see …
Flash Forward
Iceland’s ‘mandatory’ telly (what’s the word for it?) has started showing Flash Forward. I like sci fi, or atleast it’s sci fi-ey enough for me to waste time on it. So I’ve watched a few episodes on MegaVideo and finally learned how to get around their pesky time limit. Yay!
I know that actors like Joseph Fiennes (who’s in Flash Forward) and Hugh Laurie (House) are by many or most considered great actors. Try as I may, I simply cannot abide their American accents!! Fake fake fake fake fake. I can hardly understand what Joseph Fiennes says, it’s all too robotic and so full of effort, and Hugh, oh Hugh – why can’t Dr House just be a British ex-pat? The way he pronounces the letter ’s’ in British English is cute, but in American English it’s mock-gay and phoney sounding.
Joseph Fiennes plays a married FBI agent and father of one. He is utterly unconvincing as a husband and father. Lover, oh yeah, but husband, nope. Not the way they’re meant to be portrayed on the screen. I didn’t make those rules, it was the peeps in Joseph’s own profession who did! As a father he is pathetic. He is like a single mum’s boyfriend who is trying to get in his lover’s good graces by befriending her daughter. He is either unnaturally serious with his daughter as if she’s a suspect, or else he’s embarrassing in his attempts to be silly with her. Basically, you can tell he doesn’t know the little actress and is perhaps uncomfortable with youngsters, and this spills into his performance. It’s exscrutiating to watch, and I wish they’d just leave that out. The physical appearance of the man, however, is pretty pleasing on the eye.
Ralph Fiennes is his brother, so it’s disappointing to see him doing such a pathetic acting job (shadow-of-brother symptom), and I blame it on him being given the unattractive name Joseph, pronounced ‘Jo-seph’, while Ralph got one pronouced ‘Rafe’. I think my theory is spot on!
Another annoying thing abt the otherwise good show is that so many of the issues or actions are caused by people not communicating. That’s so cliché, so old. I am sick of that. LOST wouldn’t have lasted this long if people simply talked to each other occasionally, telling others what was on their mind and what they knew etc. Flash Forward is better at showing people communicating important info like real humans would though, and that’s nice.
Pros and cons aside, I will continue watching the show. I like a good enigma, though I’m pretty sure the end will prove to be disappointing. Just like with LOST, I suspect. It’s fun, and then – what! That’s all!? This is what you’ve been building towards? :)
Wow, if that’s how I think it’ll end, why do I bother? Bc it’s the journey that counts, not the destination. Oh yeah :)
An Icelandic blog. Not in Icelandic though.
These two kids nursed an underdog duck called Mandarína into leadership. She was bullied by the other ducks due to her size & shape. She was probably a runt of sorts, and from my vast knowledge of nature & animals I shall give you this morsel of truth: the world is meant for the fittest only. But the fittest of the unfit often break through to great success.
Mandarína did!
The duckess now rules the roost on the farm, plus she won first prize in her befeathered category at a pet show beauty contest:)
The boy is spectacularly well spoken and charming, which only enhanced by his slight speech impediment (hann skrollar).
It would be well worth your time to learn Icelandic to be able to understand this well spoken and kind young gentleman. He says he’s learned from this that bullying is the same among animals as it is among humans. And it’s wrong.
Here is the link; I can’t embed videos off RÚV (Icelandic national tv). Also here, just text.
