Economy, football and smartness

Today we’re celebrating Lucia and it will be my fourth day in a row that I’m out. It is exactly as pathetic it sounds. Having more nights drunk than sober in a week isn’t admirable. Nor is it good for your economy.
Especially when the last two evenings has started at a restaurant, i.e. drinks cost. A lot.
And then we have the huge, global economic meltdown.
But it’s a price I’m willing to pay, cause it’s Lucia and El Clásico tonight.

Bowling miracle

Was at Ballbreaker yesterday to celebrate Gustaf who turned 28.
Yes. He’s a very, very old man now. And yes, I’ll keep saying so for about one more month.
Anyway, what was really important about this evening wasn’t the splendid home-cooked lasagna (I’m surprised, Gustaf!), amazingly nice company or all the laughter’s that accompanied the night all the way to the very latest hours.
No, what was really important was what happened in the beginning when we were still at Ballbreaker’s.
That with my first touch, on my first try, with the very first throw of the evening, I hit an astonishingly beautiful strike.

And just at this moment

...it seems like it’s decided to have at least one beer. I’ll do one.
Check ✔!

Out or not out

Am experiencing some difficult decisions. Some hard issues to confront.
Thing is. Tomorrow is Gustaf’s birthday and we will all go bowl during the day and after I've striked away he’s having some drinks at his place and we’ll probably head out afterwards. Fair enough. All good.
But whatabouttonight then. Well yes, that’s what’s troubling yours truly. Should I “just head our for a short little while, and head home very early" or "remain seated" at Erik’s. continue "doing nothing".
This is to be taken very seriously, I reckon.
That’s why I won’t leave it to none other than the hands of the one-and-only-master.
Chance, what do you say, is it my destiny to go out tonight or is it by sheer accident I’ll go out?
And remember, as far as we know it, despite what anyone else says about rebirth, reincarnation and yadi-yadi, (no one in the world really remembers their past life anyway) we only live once.

Weekend summary:

0-4.
Now. Watch the Red Devils crush little brother.
Expect a good score.

I’ll do one

Had dinner at 'the Frog' yesterday. Some sort of bye-bye dinner for Mats, who's flying back to Shanghai on Sunday.
Then we went to 'Riche' (just for a beer). And David got really excited and ordered more and more drinks and topped it with some Jaeger.
Then he left. He had to go up early. So did the others.
And only Mats and I were left after a while. Slightly bored.
So we went to 'Spy Bar'.
And danced. I never dance.

Underestimated

Lately I’ve been having a lot of…spare time, so to speak. Not doing anything forces a great deal of strange habits. Watching the Ellen Show to mention one.
Which isn’t so weird to be honest. It’s actually amongst the top talk shows in the US. Letterman, unquestionable first, Conan of course, the guy who fucked Ben Affleck, but I mean she beats Jaws by far.
So what’s so strange about it then one might ask and refer to my opening of this note.
Well. My friends and I were sitting talking, and for whatever reason the Ellen Show came up as topic of discussion. And everyone unanimously agreed she was a second-class talk show host and everyone who came to her show was either a second-class celeb, or being cruelly punished for something they’d done in their career, at a celeb-party or having humped the wrong spouse of someone top-exec somewhere.
And I quietly nod my head in agreement. Like a lousy, coward dog I didn’t step up (or spoke up) and told them they were wrong. That the Ellen show is actually one of the most underestimated shows in television and way better than Jaws and (probably) only beaten by a few better shows.
But I didn’t. I never want to experience that chap again.
So here’s her redemption. At a widely read blog. This one’s for you, Ellen.
You’re funny.

Whose bitch

Been doing laundry all day long. That includes both my brother's and my dirty undies.
In shifts with my own comfortableness I've been transporting myself down all seven floors and hanging, washing and separating white from color and what temperature each item can handle (I've even folded his socks).
Like a sweet, loyal, submissive housewife to a rich baron in the late 19th century.
And who says men can't be anyone's bitch outside a prison?

Glad I’m alive

Usually I run at least five times a week, and most of the times I complete them during the weekdays (i.e. weekends off). This week was slightly different.
I've been absurdly jetlagged, and this Tuesday I was in the same shape as a decapitated man and simply caved in skipped the run. And Friday was a gruel tired-day where I spent the entire day horizontal. But I knew I had to reimburse for the long lost runs this weekend.
I woke up piss-early today and geared up. Today was the long run. Then I looked outside. Blizzard. "But then again, how cold can it be", I brightly thought to myself and went out.
After five meters the snow drenched me and I froze to ice with every step I took, and the rest of the one-hour run was horrific.
Not the run itself, that went surprisingly well.
But my hands. I didn’t wear gloves and it proved to be my first poor decision of the day. When I returned I couldn’t even get my keys out and my brother had to open the door and attend to me.
The hot water I poured over my iced hands turned out to be the second poor decision and I knew amputation was close.
As luck turned out, I haven’t had to amputate and football is on the menu.
God bless ‘white’ weekends.

Eerie thoughts

I think a lot. Some people think I think too much. But that’s alright. People can think what they want about my thinking.
The thing is lately; I’ve been having some weird, nasty thoughts that I tend to fulfill (the story about what whatever subject or matter) in my head once they pop up.
I’m not talking about reaching a closure on every thought or so, but annoying enough to make you feel like a creep.
A friend popped the every-guy-must-answer-question the other day, what would you rather do: blow a guy or get stripped in the ass by a guy, until ejaculation on both of course.
And I started contemplating about the options, I don’t mean giving any serious thought which answer (ass, of course), but picturing myself in the situations…
Or whenever old couples pass me by, I can wonder if they still have sex, then I get all eerie pictures in my head of their naked bodies colliding while still strapped to their wheelchairs…
Must. Stop. Now.

Post Vegas…

After a splendid time over in the big country far east, Sweden seems (if possible) even smaller than usually. It has taken me about two days just to adjust to actually being at home again. Well home.
At my brother’s apartment where he’s kind enough to let me crash on the bed-sofa.
But it works perfectly fine; after all, it’s only temporarily.
I plan to leave the country before soon.

Time difference

Been sitting in front of my computer and doing some work (ok, idiotically hung-over too of course) for a few hours. Erik and Gustav have been sleeping in the two beds in our room and the rest of the gang has probably been on the ferry to see the statue of liberty. Again.
Then I decided just now to head out to town “it’s such a lovely weather and we are in New York after all".
And precisely now, Erik told me it was eight pm.
I thought (was pretty damn sure) it was around two-ish.
That’s six hours of wrong.
But at least we took a stroll in Central Park this morning, so I don’t feel too bad about it.

NYC boy

It’s amazing. I feel so at home here. I think it might be home. In another life I must have lived here. And to connect to my past-life I should therefore live here again. That simple.
We started our first day at an English sport bar and watched Champions League. Soon Oskar, Peter and Per with his American wife Melissa joined.
Then we taxi’d around town to experience the craziness of election night and to be a part of history.
Nutty Americans consumed with alcohol and high on patriotism in public areas and hidden away places.
I just love my imminent hometown.

One thing to do

Like the words of the majestic Jim Gaffigan; ever had one thing to do all day. And that one thing becomes a real, real hustle.
"I have to go to the post office today. But they’re only open ‘til five. Guess I probably have to put on pants too."

Upload, convert and share

Should be so easy. That’s what the site does. All it does. It’s its sole purpose.
And yet, I have even emailed the co-founder of Slideshare and been a regular-mailer with their technical support.
Last they asked me if I had anything unusual on the 6th page (where the shit storm begins with an abrupt – nada) and what format it was. I replied and haven’t heard anything from them.
Last option now. All I need is a pc to try it on from.
I’m in such deep shit.
Thank god I'm going to Vegas soon.

Stupid runs

Just had some of my best runs. Like ever. And am I thrilled for that? Well, of course not.
First of all, it’s not hard doing a great run after you’ve spent running like a complete moron vertical for the past couple of months.
And just to spend some time in clean air is an injection itself.
But darn Nike+ (sorry – love you Apple and Nike) is not my comrade right now.
First of all it has spent a good few weeks messing with me and trying to tell me it’s either not inserted right or saying I’m not running. Which I’m clearly doing (you just have to trust me on this). And now when it’s functioning alright, it isn’t.
I’m running slower and shorter than I know I am. Now I can be a complete idiot here (probably) – but I’m sooo pissed off. When I do an amazing run – I do lower my PB every time) it’s still too slow.
Or it’s just me being a complete idiot again and having fooled myself for the last couple of years and this is just the worse reality shock ever for my ego.
Doh!

Majestic dildo-tifo

Witnessed a proud moment of Swedish fans tonight. Went to the classic hockey match between rivals AIK (my team) and Leksand (my best friend’s team – and former player at AIK) and took a split decision in whom to route for.
The almighty, but weak, decision to cheer for every goal seemed to work pretty fine and when AIK gave Leksand their first defeat of the season I hid my smile.
Another player who’s played for both teams is Janne Huokko, now at Leksand. Last season he even was captain at Leksand. But abruptly quit just before the season was about to start.
No one understood anything and the lid was on.
Later he came back and everyone do know what has happened, but nothing is official.
AIK ignored that and welcomed Huokko with a stunning dildo-tifo at his former home arena at Hovet and it was pretty fun actually.

Much too bored to die

Not working has turned out to be more dreadful than expected. Try to tell that to a confused kid a couple of years ago and inform him he would type down these words.
That’s why I’m looking forward to my imminent trip to the states even more. My gosh. It’s gonna be more than awesome. It’s gonna be fantastic.
I’m gonna meet my friends from Amsterdam, Barry, Jon and his wife Miranda (only that is worth a trip in itself) and will do my best to hook up with some shops while there.
Well, how casual of you, Senor Beckett, “hook up”, eisssy.
Anyways. The only thing you should and can do is look forward. And I’m looking forward to this so much it’s putting a big smile on the kid’s face. Viva la now.

Internet access

Bought a new mobile almost solely to be able to use it as a modem to my laptop and surf around the web wherever I wanted to be. When that didn’t work out as planned (I’ll return to why, later, I’m still too furious to type about it) I started frequent the only free-Internet café I know.
And it’s great, the staff is nice and coffee good.
Except I feel like a complete moron.
I have the compulsory urge to buy something every half an hour or so. It’s really awkward to have become a regular here. Let alone how their prices make you feel.
Because I don’t want to. I’d rather sit in my underwear in the couch (or bed – if I want to) and scroll through the web however I chose to.
Now I sit buttoned up in a shirt and a straight back and immediately hide my Facebook page whenever a stranger, or even worse – the waitress – pass me by.

New York AND Las Vegas, baby

Had one of those ridiculous hang over Sunday’s again (tend to come on pretty regular basis now as a single).
Was stretching out in Erik’s sofa when he started mouth spraying about his trip to the big apple and straight to Vegas after, and that I should join.
Gave a moment too much of reflection about economy, time, work, global financial crisis in general and my very personal own one in particular, before I said, fuck it, let’s do it.
I probably won’t be hung over there a single time either.

Bowling and holy god

Got rudely awaked by a friend last Sunday.
"You have to come and bowl today, the girl I date wants to meet my friends", he yelled and I was still too drunk to grasp the seriousness in the situation, and happily accepted the invitation.
We ended up four guys and four girls, or should I say women, cause the woman he dates is none other than a, for Sweden, celebrity, and she was 40+, as we say. And so were her friends.
It was actually quite nice despite my team finished last. Of course I blame it on my teammate, cause after I my first beer of the day, I striked away.
Then, something very, very interesting happened. They invited us to join a Sunday holy moment in church. It was way too intriguing to decline, so we said yes. It was far from what I expected: it was a rock show.
A live band, young hot people, and a frantic crowd. Everything was rather nice, and then you heard the lyrics.
God here, Jesus there. And you started to realize that this is the “new” way of embracing god. The modern way. The 21st century way of accepting Jesus as your pilot.
Afterwards we were all quite…hmmm struck by the moment so to speak and I even had to take a long walk home to digest the perhaps weirdest hung over Sunday ever.

Back home again

And it’s absolutely weird. I keep asking myself, whatafack I am supposed to do back home. Stand in the roaring crowd in front of Stureplan at 5am and yell with the other wolves…
I do miss Shanghai.
The urge to find the next gig only multiplied before I left, and after my first weekend, tripled.
Now misunderstand me right, I love being home and see my family, friends and being able to surf freely on the web.
But that’s about it.
Things have changed so much since my last visit. Stockholm is, as always, a carbon copy of its yesterday’s self, but again as always, sometimes it’s not the place that changes when you go on a journey.

Last meal in Japan – Thai

But before you yell, booring, please be assured that the cool sushi place, where I planned to dine, was full. So I decided to go 'off-shore' and took a 'secret (not) elevator' down, to consume the 'heavy underground scene of Tokyo'.
And though it, too, was empty first (congrats at discovering the only two empty restaurants in Tokyo, Christian) they served delicious food.
HAI!See, I finished all on my plates.

Riding that pony

Subway experience

Took the underground to get to W+K Tokyo’s office and said hello. "That went well", said the boy as he cooled down at Starbucks with a Frappuccino, soaked in his own body fluids and a head that kept spinning from random nervousness.
It wasn’t that gruel actually, more of an experience in taking yourself further. On a personal level. Usually I just stay one step behind her, and let her do the directions, decisions and controlling. But this time I was one my own. The first step to my new life. What a grand last day in Tokyo.
HAI!Then this pretty monster to buildning caught my attention. It was masssive and quite, beautiful. And now I'm personally sad, that the camera phone doesn't capture the essence of it.
Damn you, Sony, damn you! Like no other, my ass.
This orange coach, is btw, the bus, I will for sure, miss tomorrow morning to the airport of Nakitora Tokyo!! - straight to Stockholm (excpet a lovely pitstop in Beijing for a couple of hours of course, meaning the chance to, still, end up in Chinese prison for my remaining days, remains).

Discoveries about Japanese women/girls so far:

• They can be stunningly beautiful (way more gorgeous than expected).
• They walk funny. With a knock-kneed gait.

First time live, now live for everyone

This has of course nothing to do with Tokyo, but on my last day in Shanghai, I went to Nike for a presentation, and our film was showing on a big screen in the lobby.
Which was cool to see it on something larger than a 12” laptop.
And today when I visited Nike.com.cn, it sure was there, along with the rest of our stuff.
A proud moment. Lydia, Weiling and Veronica almost shed tears. And proudest of them all, the main guy, Dean Wei:Too bad I miss the whole thing live in Shanghai.

YES!

Just realized that when I walk around and greet Japanese everywhere, they must think I’m a confirming retard.
Hence I haven’t learned the much-complicated “hello” (kon-nichi-wa - try to say that and deliver your next sentence without messing things up), in Japanese, I simply say, “hi”.

Another day in paradise

I was more referring to Phil Collins than the city, but it works either way.
Look, they even make road—constructions festive. Decided to uncover new areas around Tokyo - trickier than you expect, especially if you have to keep as straight line as possible when you walk - but thought of a Japanese proverb "you must sometimes get lost in order to find new ways".
And walked where billboards shine and people crowd - forget whatever I've mentioned here before about 'calm'.Discovered, what Japanese call*,"The hidden treasures of Tokyo, behind busy traffic and noisy tourists".Here is a place to have dinner, I thought and went back a few hours later when I was hungry, and managed to sit down at the only empty restaurant in Tokyo.A bit of a disappointment, but then again, fuck it, I was happy a moment after when I noticed H&M (almost felt like home!) entered and it was nothing like home (H&M is really popluar here).
– A loooot of Japanese inside and a long queue outside. Only to discover this fascinating store. I felt blessed, and got, disappointed, at the UNIQLO store, it didn’t quite reflect their communication so to speak.Then I went home again!

*No they don’t.

How about this crazy little fucker!

Relief

Anytime you feel the urge to either drink or just a smoke, a vending machine is never further away than a glance.

Tokyo vs Shanghai, 1-0

China have their animal-years, Japan have cats and dogs

Ok, that was terrible and I apologize. But Tokyo has been flooded today and it hasn’t stopped pouring down for one single moment.Went for my Imperial Palace run, before I knew it was raining, which is great btw, and when I had showered, dressed and left the hotel with an umbrella they were kind enough to lend me, I knew where I was going.
I had seen a hot dog place on my run.
But first I took a coffee at Starbucks and watched how even Japanese got drenched outside the window.I sat for a while read about one of my all-time role models, P.T Anderson. Whom I actually thought had directed more than the only five movies he’s done (I know he hasn’t, but it just felt so little). But if you have Magnolia, There Will Be Blood and the ludicrously good, Punch Drunk Love on your merit, there’s not a lot to prove anyway. Why rush things?
He has always lived under his, sometimes extremely cruel motto, anything for a shot.
And though our shared interest in devoted ambitions keeps us secretly unified, and ingenious minds like his keeps me motivated, it is the way he captured the grand, Philip Baker Hall to his first film that truly inspires me.
When Hall got his first script for a short-film, long ago, he said the story was great. "But the most impressive thing was the writing. It wasn’t just good. It was dazzling."
Ambitions set high, I aim for such verdicts.
But then the urge to freeze in the rain grew to big and I walked out.Met this lovely fountain and jumped up on a wall to grab some pictures just as I started to realize mobile camera doesn't quite capture the essence of Tokyo.A department store emerged between the buildings and I entered with great relief (it's actually cold here!).
Spent another few hours there and realized I hadn't eaten anything yet (the hot dog place must have been an illusion, cause I never found it), and ordered a sallad (wow, how gay of you chris). Read some more. I have really missed the time to just read.
Anything. As long as it's good. A dazzling text is, of course, preferred.
And later walked home again. In the now darker, yet always bright, Tokyo.