Saturday, June 25, 2011

air

I can totally see why people like strangulation sex. Air is pretty fucking great to have.

Thursday, June 16, 2011

It's Cut Your Own Hair Day!

It doesn't take guts, just the determination to get past the first steps.

There's the "Stop staring at the mirror and pick up the scissors" phase. Now that I've done it a couple of time I spend a very short moment there, compared to the agonizing first time.

Then comes the "Maybe I should've planned this before I started" phase. Unless you're an organized, sensible person, and not like me who, in the case of haircutting, is all enthusiasm and no thought.

Closely after this comes the "Oh but this works, this is kinda fun and easy" phase. This is the point you want to get to. If you chicken out before this, then you didn't give it a proper chance. This is also where your grand plans completely take over your head and you start cutting like Edward Scissorhands, and your sensible self clasps its hands and pray to preferred divinity that the result will be something you want.

The funny thing is that after this point, you kinda stop looking at yourself and what you're doing until you're done. When you think you're done, you reach the "Hey this is alright... oh my god what have I done I'm ugly forever"-phase. Depending on how dramatic your haircut is, this phase's graveness varies, and don't worry it's just a reaction to the change. I cut seldom but a lot, so I tend to have a big inner psychotic break over what I think is the disaster of a lifetime, before I pull myself together into the "I can fix this" phase.

In this phase you poke things, cut maybe a hair here or there, and take the time you spend on silly pointless minor adjustments to get used to your new look. It works as a transition into the best phase of all, the "Oh hey, I'm fucking hawt... dude I'm so awesome"-phase. For some reason, between the panic phase and this phase, although you haven't really changed anything, suddenly it's your vision come to life that's staring at you from the mirror. Now enjoy this phase. For a little, precious while you're the catwalk queen, the rock star, the southern prince or oriental princess.

Then you realize that it's just hair, and you look just like usual, with shorter hair. Congratulations. You're done.

If anyone's a bit more serious, here's a couple of tips that work for me:
  1. Think of it like a sculpture. The shapes and lines you want. And remember there's some limitations like where your hair likes to part of itself, respect those. Hair has a tendency to fall in the same places, so if you want a v shape, just cut a v shape.
  2. If you want something done in the back that requires any form of precision, don't do it. Ask a brave friend or pay up.
  3. Don't cut your hair while it's wet. I don't know if cutting it wet might be better for the hair or something, but I leave the whole "let's guess what happens when it dries" up to professionals. I actually like to fix the hair up before I cut it, because then I see exactly how it'll be.
  4. Remember that it's easier to cut a little at a time, than try to paste it back on! :) Let it take some time. 
  5. Don't be a nitpick. Hair consists of a myriad of straws, it's not a piece of wood you can carve. It'll move, it'll grow. You can definitively make it look good, and shape it as you want, but chill. If you wanted perfectionism you should've gone to hairdresser school. Or opened that fat wallet.
  6. Give it a week. For some reason, it takes a few days for the hair to settle (or maybe it's your head that needs to settle) and you'll fine some straws here and there that you missed, and even if you were initially disappointed you might look at it a different way.
Alright buds, cya out there! How did my hair turn out? Well... it's shorter than it's ever been ;) and I'm SO HOT! AND SO AWESOME! Okay so maybe I haven't finished the last phase yet...

Bouncing

I wake up to the sound of Loki bouncing about the carpet. I recognize that pattern of sound very well. It's the sound of a cat bouncing around captured prey, most likely still alive. So I know the truth long before I actually see it. There is a live mouse on my carpet. For the time being it's corralled in one spot by a happy, bouncing cat.

My first plan is to stick it in the bathroom, cat, mouse and all and just go back to sleep. Ignorance is bliss. But the more awake I get, the more I realize it's not a terrific plan. So after chasing cat and mouse around the apartment for a good while I gather the courage to capture it (mice can bite and give diseases, alright!). With a plastic bag between my hand and a tiny little warm, breathing mouse, I realize that I, I indeed, I have a live mouse in my hand, how incredibly cool I am to pick it up. (No I don't know why, it's four in the morning damn it.) So I proudly toss it out, and Loki runs after, picks it up, and jumps back in the window.

-.-'

Another circle chase, I close the window, and he jumps right into the glass. Well sorry, cat. We have a communication issue. I'd rather not have a mouse gnawing on my computer cables. And mom would probably not want mouse blood on the carpet. If you ate it in the bathroom I could clean it up easy, but I can't tell you that, can I.

I did learn something about myself. When the damned thing ran right over my feet, I was too terrified by the absolutely disgusting idea of stepping on it to actually freak out and jump away.

At least my first instinct wasn't to take a picture. That's the sign of blog-/facebook brain damage.

Monday, June 13, 2011

Who do you think you are?

I realized something while I wrote that comment on the post below.

"Who do you think you are?" that voice in my head said. "Do you really think you can come to a better answer, that you can come closer to god, than a hundred generations of millions of Christians or Muslims or whatever. Scholars and priests, kings and peasants. Who do you think you are to believe yourself above them?"

I don't know. I've never thought about it that way, and now that I did, it feels a little embarrassing. Who do I think I am? Isn't it true, aren't I trying to be better than every thinking human before me and around me? It makes my humble Swedish upbringing cringe where it's stored in the basic structures of my brain, but the truth, while difficult to admit, is simple. Yes. I do think I can. My world revolves around me. I am my own god, and my world will live and die with me. I do believe to the fullest of my heart that I have as much ability and right to claim I know my god, to claim my own path to faith, as any man or woman who as ever walked on Earth and any that will ever live.

And in the same way, I also believe it is the right and duty of every human to claim their own path to faith, to belief and religion. Which is why, I realize, organized religion infuriates me. And in the same way, the mindlessness with which people treat other's belief infuriates me to the same degree. Of course I don't want to sing psalms in church, that would be lying. Lying at another's place of worship. If there was a corresponding way to desecrate my own faith, I would want to kill the one who did. Someone said "religion lies in the hearts of men", if I don't remember incorrectly. And that is exactly it. Tradition and ceremony might serve other purposes, but faith, actual faith, has it's own shelf. And it is holy, too holy for organizations and institutions.

Saturday, June 4, 2011

prayer

At the end of a long drive, the clouds were rather peculiar. Straight ahead, far far away it looked like some odd thing in the air. My mind couldn't decide what it was - a demon, an alien spaceship - but my first thought was "finally!". To my inner eye I saw war and magic, death and heroism. Then I realized it was an odd cloud, radically different than the surrounding ones but a cloud nonetheless. And I wondered, finally what? Finally war? Finally death? But it seems my naive heart would rather suffer those things to get something more.

Also, another baptism for me, and when I was sitting there I was for a moment tempted into the lull of organized religion. Then almost like a voice saying to me: it's your immortal soul you gamble with, you think you'd be shown mercy for chosing what everyone else believe because you're afraid to be wrong?

Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Ladies in capes

Going through my stash and found a couple of pictures I saved for being epic and awesome, and that should be shared. However by now I don't remember where they originally came from, so... don't sue me please, kthxbai.

First: one of you have probably given me this to begin with. It's an excellent start.

Then a couple of awesome avatars from forums... again, sorry, I can't credit because I don't know! Tell me if you know, and I will. Just don't kill my cat.







(By the way, Blogger doesn't handle pictures very well. EDIT: previewing this tells me that Blogger absolutely fucking sucks at handling pictures. I tried to get them all in one row and this is the best I could do, after a lot of clicking and dragging and bashing the keyboard in frustration.)

This, however, is the best avatar I've ever seen.



And finally, the image that changed my view of those annoying bathroom signs that assume all women wear skirts:

Ta mates!