Falling Down

It was the first time up the mountain since I fell and broke my phone. I didn’t bring the new phone, I have learnt my lesson.

However, I did feel like shit, I woke up early thinking about tea-stuff and couldn’t go back to sleep. I didn’t have any breakfast and the store doesn’t open until 8 am, so no hope there. I sat in my bed reading The Dumas Club by Arturo Perez-Reverte. Books translated into english don’t sound as good, the language becomes less fluent, more awkward in a sense, but it’s easy to follow. This book was made into the film “The Ninth Gate” by Roman Polanski. The book is less straight forward and more complex and since it’s a meta-book, I enjoy it.

Anyway, I noticed when I reached the top that I was more exhausted than usual. I then realized what an effect it had had on me to go to one party on friday, one on saturday and spending rest of the weekend moving a large tea-storage. Rather stressing. On the way down I slipped on a wet stone (AGAIN!) and hit my left side falling down. I actually managed to hit a stone on my head and I now have a nice Donald-Duck bump in the back of my head. I had planned to cut my hair, but I’ll probably wait until the swelling goes down. In addition I had dirt on my clothes, hands and head, so I looked really stupid. At least I didn’t hurt my phone…

my prejudices are..

This is gacked from snesommer and dollporn. I actually wrote it in a café in my moleskine. This is the first time I’ve done memes RL-style.

I’m prejudiced against…

– the middle class
– conformists
– people with bad breath
– people who speak loudly in restaurants
– people who seem to be funnier than me
– people who smell badly (se above)
– people who never think before they speak
– people who can never make a decision
– people who don’t like me 😛
– people who pretend to be compassionate
– people bringing screaming babies to cafés and feeding them yellow shit
– people from Bergen
– men with moustaches
– ugly men
– people who don’t care about how they look
– people who do not know much about art, but “know” what they like
– people who drink milk
– punks
– goths :)
– junkies
– idiots
– “artists”
– “webdesigners”
– people who think they can achieve fame without hard work (see above)
– people with bad posture
– smokers
– alcoholics
– people who only drink beer
– women who stare at me for a short eternity and still expect ME to make contact
– loud children
– satanists
– occultists
– pietists
– doctors
– sailors
– musicians
– people who pronounce “blanc” blang and “croissant” croissang. It’s a glottal stop, you gits!
– misspellers
– marxist-leninists
– conservatives
– people in love (I’m just jealous, really)
– shifty eyed people
– people with a weak handshake
– people with slurry speech
– people who only read crime-lit.
– selfproclaimed elitists out of work (see several above)
– pseudointellectuals
– trendwhores
– farmers
– factory workers
– academics
– teachers
– people in advertising
– people who compare me with George in Seinfeld because I’m short.
– new agers
– sycophants
– neurotics

tea Tea TEA

As you may well know, I along with two other people started a teahouse and a tea-import-company a few years back.

I have no idea why this happened. I swear, I never intended to start companies. That is not something I do.

Anyway, it all went haywire several times, I have never before or later in my life worked with so many primadonnas at the same time. A few months ago the mad passive-aggressive doctor who financed the whole thing (god knows why?) decided to give up and left the company in shambles. I got some help from a few friends and sent out a large backlog of orders he hadn’t bothered to tell me about. Then I told him what an asshole he was in an email and got an answer in his usual patronizing way telling me I could do whatever I wanted with the company. My first action as supreme dictator was to change all the passwords on the website and remove his email account without telling him. Now, with the help of the same friends, I have moved the tea to a location he has no access to. I can just imagine the look on his face the next time he goes to the storage area to pick up some tea and it’s all empty. Haha.

You see, the mad doctor imported tea like a shopoholic. We had 20 samovars (we have managed to sell one or two), 120+ chinese yixing claypots, an unknown amount of japanese claypots, 600 kg of various teas etc etc. The amusing thing is that we never made any money. He always underestimated the cost of processing and selling the tea always undercharging so that the company never made any progress.

Anyway, we finally struck a deal with someone to sell them a large lot of tea and it seems we can pay back the first loan with the sum and buy us some time to sell the rest of the lot, finish the loans and perhaps even make some money if we’re lucky.

I’m considering restarting this business, small scale, with prepacked high quality imported tea from China and Japan. This time there will be no rooibush tea, no scented tea, no shit and no bargains. I would contact exporters who could pack the tea, calculate the overhead needed to make money and invest without taking up any loans. Everything would be neatly planned and budgeted before any tea was bought.

my head hurts

Every now and again it seems like the rain takes on a personality of its own.

If you don’t live in a coastal town you may not understand this at all. Sometimes it just pours down. Not like the sky opened, but a steady trickle of very small raindrops that just continues all day, relentlessly, like norwegian water torture. You get wet, really wet, your feet are wet, everything is wet and umbrellas don’t help. You get tired from sitting indoors all day and/or the frustration of the weather or the change in the air pressure. I’m not sure what it is, but I feel really strange and certainly not good. I feel really insecure, and slightly unpleasant, like a caged animal, I guess. And when the weather clears, my mood lifts really quickly. In that sense it seems I’m just weather-sick and that’s probably the biggest hazard in this town where it rains 200 days a year. I wish I’d take some steps to spend a year somewhere, make an exchange or a temporary position somewhere else for a short time.

I killed my phone

I bought a new phone two months ago. I’ve never had much trouble with phones, except that time I dropped it at the ground and the display gave up. Cost me a small fortune in repairs…


About three weeks ago I lose my new phone at an airport. After almost a week, I got it back (I had to get someone else to pick it up and they were almost given the wrong phone). Today, I went walking in the mountain, and on the way down I take a shortcut and step on a slippery stone and fall on my side. It doesn’t hurt but I notice there’s a lot of loose stuff in my pocket. There’s not supposed to be loose stuff. There’s supposed to be a phone. I pull the phone out of my pocket and it’s come apart. Crushed. LCD-display broken, the two pieces of the phone pulled apart. And I really loved that phone. Well, not carnally, but it was a nice phone anyway.

Then I realized that all phone numbers I had acquired lately are in the phone memory and not the SIM-card, especially the phone number for the girl I had a coffee-date with yesterday. That problem was quickly solved though. This is a small town, after all.

Das Keyboard

I’ve been helping friends with relationship problems and it’s all completely unbloggable at this time, so I’m giving you some nerdy news instead.

Das Keyboard II has been released. As you may know, their first invention, a keyboard with blank keys was based on a rather cheap logitech-keyboard and not really worth the price. The new one is based on old IBM-keyboards with gold-plated buckling springs. I actually bought an old unused IBM-keyboard with a roller-ball last year but that keyboard doesn’t go well with my new ultramodern black steel computer. I really loved the clickety-click sounds that those keyboards make, so I’m considering a Das Keyboard II.


Last night started out at DLK. I was having coffee with Martin and one of his friends, Sigurd. The Barista, Anders, was in an experimental mood and gave Martin a ice tea/coffee mix which tasted strange. Afterwards he gave us a longo with aniseed, it tasted nice but it was slightly too much for my taste.

The other two were meeting some friends at Hector’s, so we headed that way. At Hector’s we met several of their friends, one was even working there. It turned out I had talked to one of them earlier, I knew him as one of the guests at the tea-house last year. Anyway, we sat discussing this and that and Martin at some point went home, tired, so I continued talking to his friends. At some point we noticed some outrageous french kissing at the other end of the room between a very cute girl and a slightly non-cute guy. Sigurd’s comment was “I think I work with him”. We considered asking them to leave, since it seemed they had more pressing matters to attend to, but the girl disappeared outside and left the guy sitting alone, poor thing.

So, we break camp and head for Finnegans. I didn’t plan to go there, I’m not sure I like the place, but I keep thinking I could at least come and have a look. The moment we come inside, I notice a bunch of people I know at different tables. I sit down with Hans-Petter. He’s sitting at a table looking confused (he just woke up – at 10 pm) chatting with some girls he hardly know, and a plumber that noone seems to know. The plumber is obviously trying unsuccessfully to hit on the cutest girl there, she turns out to be the cousin of a friend of mine, Barbro. The plumber is very interested in how boring my job is (according to him) and how well he is paid. I come up with some half-arsed puns about plumbing and laying pipes and at some point he leaves, thank god for that. We get on well with the girls, so I enjoy sitting there. We discuss social anthropology, Michel Foucault (I don’t know that much about him, honestly!) and middle class people who just talk about their children, their garage and their last holiday. We all hates them. Wretched hobbits. Then I meet an old friend from the university, and two of my old rpg-friends who make snide remarks about how busy I always am (I’m not, they just call at the wrong time, every time).

The outdoors section closes at 1 am and we need to go inside, so we are separated from the girls, Hans-Petter starts talking to a girl with a strange name and a yellow sweater and I find a former class-mate’s brother. At first I have some trouble remembering his name but it comes back to me. I talk to him and the people at his table for a while. They were really nice, one of the girls was stroking my arm a lot. :) Then I see someone I barely recognize, it turns out I know her via Kristian, my aikido-ADHD-friend, we start chatting and Hans-Petter (who I also know via Kristian) comes over. He knows her too. Then some guy who she knows a little starts telling me to buzz off. It was really strange. He was like “she’s taken, go to hell”. I didn’t know what to do, so I told him to mind his own business and she pushed him away. It was really strange, but this is apparently what he’s like.

She’s in town with some guys, one of them is blonde and I seem to have seen him the day before. He’s in his early twenties and I noticed him because he was walking around with his girlfriend who seemed to be ten years older than him. I ask him for confirmation and it IS the same guy!!

The girl seems to be slightly flirting with me (or just being drunk – those two aren’t mutually exclusive, I know) and behind her is one of the girls from the table earlier in the evening. She wasn’t exactly flirting, but looking at me from time to time and “brushing her feathers”. It was fun. THe others wanted to go to Baran, but everything was closed at 3 am, so we went home to my place and I served them a night meal with tea and then everyone went home at 04.45 am.

I’m slightly tired now. :)

strange and interesting conversation

This is an actual conversation via SMS with an ex-girlfriend of mine. It’s edited due to the multithreadedness of SMS-messages and made friends only due to its’ intimate (and strange) nature.

Me: How is life in South East Asia? I’m bored.

Her: I’m heartbroken over and over again. Are you coming here or should I go there instead. :-)

Me: I have no time before christmas to go anywhere.

Her: I’ll try to save some money and visit you, maybe I can come soon enough to celebrate our birthdays. Is it expensive there? Is there anything to do in Bergen in autumn?

Me: It’s a little bit cheaper than Japan 😛 You have accomodation and I can cook so you don’t need to worry about money. In addition, you can go sightseeing or enjoy the culture here. There’s lots to do despite the size of the city.

Her: I’m in a very unhealthy relationship, so no sex I’m afraid. :-) Do you think I should still visit? I miss your pizza and pasta cooking. Are the penguins still there?

Me: Unhealthy relationship? What do you mean? No problem, you can sleep on the couch. It’s quity comfy.

Her: Let’s not talk about my relationship. I’d rather think about having fun with you from now on. It will motivate me to make money faster. I can’t sleep or cuddle with you without sex? How’s your family?

Me: I can try, but I think I’d have a hard time getting any sleep that way. My parents are leaving for Spain tomorrow.

Her: That’s nice, you’re not going? You don’t have a girlfriend who would come and kill me for sleeping with her boyfriend, do you?

Me: No, no dates, no sex for a long time. That’s why I’m bored.

Her: Are you sure it’s ok for me to visit? I’ll be nice and make sure you get some sleep, help you cook and clean up afterwards. Are any of the people I knew back then still there?

Me: Thomas and Øyvind still live here, not sure about any others. Lots of new people you can meet though. Of course it’s ok. I was worrying about you.

Her: All right. Will start money printing on Monday. :-) Gonna have to do something about your no sex situation. That’s not nice. We’ll work on that when I get there. Now I have to sleep, haven’t slept in two days because of the unhealthy relationship *kisses*

Top ten sexy french books

The Guardian has a top ten book-list page, and last year Helena Frith Powell listed the top ten sexy french books. I first found the list in a norwegian translation published by Morgenbladet on the 28th of October 2005, it was hanging on the wall in the library of my friend, Tone (eksilbohem – bohemian in exile). As I have a subscription for the same newspaper, I went looking for it in my pile of old newspapers. It turns out I have the two papers predating it, but not that one, so I had to google the list. Powell has a rather interesting description of Emanuelle:

My husband’s favourite French book. He says he reads it for the philosophy. It is the story of a woman getting laid. A lot. In just about every position and place imaginable, but mainly Thailand. This book has entertained French boys since publication. I fully expect to find it under my son’s pillow in a few years’ time.

I have only read one of these in full, Bonjour Tristesse. I have tried reading Les Liaisons Dangereuses but I found it tiresome. Anyway, here’s the list, if you want to read her comments in full, follow the link.

1. Chéri by Colette
2. Madame de by Louise de Vilmorin
3. The Ravishing of Lol Stein by Marguerite Duras
4. Bonjour Tristesse by Francoise Sagan
5. Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert
6. Emmanuelle by Emmanuelle Arsan
7. Les Liaisons Dangereuses by Choderlos de Laclos
8. I Wish Someone Were Waiting For Me Somewhere by Anna Gavalda
9. Cyrano de Bergerac by Edmond de Rostand
10. The Delta of Venus by Anaïs Nin

You might also want to read what Anaïs Nin said about being a writer and faithfulness. :)

Mini Vietnam

It’s so hot and humid, it’s like a Mini-Vietnam! I’m expecting the Vietcong any moment now.

I presume thunder and a nice rainstorm will make do as a communist resistance force.