Back, back on track and bare back on truck track

Please disregard the header in this post.

What I wanted to say that I'm happy that I finaly did it. I took it upon myself to revive this blog of mine. A blog that has been dormant for three years now.

I still don't really know what I should talk about here. The difference now, however, is that I don't care. I don't even know if I'm going to write in English eller på Svenska. Vilket känns nice. Det works either...uhh kanske inte.

As a newsflash about me. Istill work at that historic place called The Royal Dramatic Theatre in Stockholm. You know that place I ended up in after a dreadful week of unemployment.

So in other words, I'm alive and kicking. And trying to get press to cover Dramatens productions and actors.

wish list...

Every christmas I have the same problem. It's not a big problem, it's not a problem at all for most people on this planet. It's, if anything, a rich man's problem.

There isn't really anything I want for christmas.

If I want something during the year, I'll buy it. So at christmas I have to think about all these things I have thought of buying, but never did, because I prioritized some other thing. The result is that I always, for christmas, get the "junk" I've pretty much already discarded.

I understand my family's reaction every christmas when I tell them that I don't know what I want, or I don't want anything. They, then, have to go store to store searching for something suitable to give me. Which is a real pain at christmas with seventy eleven customers in each store.

This christmas I've made a list of "junk" that I really don't need, but would be happy to get.

- Books about ancient Rome
- A backgammon board
- A Trivial Persuit board
- A thin cotton sweater
- A FM dial transmitter for my MP3 player or computer
- Some black socks.

This is actually the first "wish list" since I was a kid. Fun. Silly. Fun.

The Struggle...

I've been silent for some weeks now, and what an eventful couple of weeks it has been. In my last post, I cherished the fact that I was an idler no more. I had a job, with descent pay and a descent work to go to every day. I wrote that post on the 9:th and on the 11:th I was fired.

I was fired under the pretext that I was uninterested and passionless about the job. Which I wasn’t, I really wasn’t. The true reasons were of a nature which could not be expressed directly to me, hence the cowardly phone call an hour after work on the 11^th telling me that I’m not welcome back.

I was struck down by the lies certain persons at work told my supervisor at the employment agency, which had provided me with the job. I haven’t been feeling well since, not quite any way.

I have had the means to become an idler again, but I didn’t take it. I took instead a crash course in anxiety management. I was angry for one day, sad for another, panic struck for a third, had extremely low self-esteem during the fourth. On the fifth day I resurrected and applied for a bunch of new jobs. On the sixth day I stood firm and held my own during a job interview. On the morning of the seventh day I stood inside the doors of my new work place. A work place with a history worth fighting for, a work place with nicer people, better pay and a much better contract than I had before.

To all of you who used to see me at my old job (Emma, Micke and Anne): I’m fine and happy… so damn happy to finally be out of school…

I’m happy again…

Has this experience left any mark? During the two weeks that has passed since I got my new job I have struggled with a paranoid feeling of not being able to trust my co-workers. A struggle I’ve seem to have surpassed brilliantly.

I’m strong again…

surfing the mind...

Last night as I lay in bed I thought of the most wonderful topic to write about. I structured beautiful sentences and lovely punch lines. The problem is, I can’t remember any of it. I’m totally blank. And I praise the fact that the problem is it self a topic worthy writing about, the wonderful sentences excluded.

I have always thought of myself as something of a daydreamer. But daydreaming seems to be the luxury of an idler. Daydreaming is very important to me since it’s through daydreaming I raise questions about society, form my opinions and ideals. It’s through daydreaming I blog.

Now, I can’t find the time, not during the day at least. After the lights are out, however, I have all the time I need to ponder and turn and spin thoughts. The result is dubious though. The most immediate consequence is that I lack sleep; secondly I can’t record what I have thought.

I can’t record what I have thought because I can’t turn the light on, pick up a notepad and start typing, even less use a recorder, without awakening my girlfriend. Furthermore, I always seem to push my luck. I greedily try to hang on to a seed of thought to see what might become of it. The seed is all I need though; I can water and fertilize it perfectly well during the following day. But no luck, most often I fall a sleep and wake up… blank.

I’m an idler no more…

What should I do?

Crackling...

My intention was to post a post about space, something about the human urge to explore and spread. I meant for you to understand my fantasies about the universe and how I would like to see humans colonize it. It would be a beautiful text describing travel through nebulas, and between solar systems and planets. How trade and struggle would allow us to live in a time that quite accurately could be compared with the sea faring during 16th through 19th century.

But I buried that idea somewhere easy accessible for future use.

I really don’t want to write about football to the same extent as I have these last posts, but I have to because it has left such an ugly and heavy mark upon my soul. The club responsible for the heavy chains, lifted some, if not all of the stones linked to the chains up yesterday. A liberating 0 – 2 victory over the arch rivals AIK could perhaps be the leverage needed to carry the stones to the blacksmith for removal.

And I wasn’t even supposed to have gone to the game…

A gentle soul found and returned a lost ticket yesterday to work and since no one claimed it I wouldn’t let it go to waste, and today it would be waste. So, after work I went and sold the ticket for about half its price and bought another one, one that would place me among friends. I also bought a very nice scarf…

The ticket let me see the most beautiful display of football I’ve ever seen Hammarby produce. “Bajen” totally annihilated AIK during the first half. Discipline secured the victory during the second. I’m so glad I witnessed it.
Perhaps the next game will provide sufficient strength and energy to have the blacksmith remove the last shackles of my soul.

Digitus impudicus...

A gesture I actually would like to be able to use more often is “the finger”. I would love to be in a situation where I could "flip the bird" once more. I can't recollect when I last used it; I mean really used it. I imagine I use it quite often at football games, but the judge who often is the intended target hasn't as of yet, and for obvious reasons, seen me giving it. I also, even more pathetically, use it when I feel aggravated in front of the TV.

I would however much more like to give it up front to a person. I think I would like that very much, to recapture the times when we as kids walked around giving it to all and everybody. I imagine it would feel liberating, in an obnoxious and rebellious kind of way. I guess, actually, that what it really comes down to is that you, from time to time, feel the want to be a kid again.

I started thinking about "the finger" when I saw one of the top politicians in Sweden, Lars Ohly, giving it to a political adversary on a morning show a few days ago. Watch the clip here. Even though I’m no big fan of Lars Ohly (he’s a damn communist what ever he nowadays says) I felt that it was quite funny of him, in a very immature and stupid way, to give the finger on live TV.

The thing about giving the finger is that it’s somewhere between a minor and major insult. It’s somewhere between getting neglected and receiving a fist to the jaw. It’s severe, but not severe enough to cause you harm. And it can be done silently.
I do it like the kid almost exclusively at football games; just as the little kid a two posts ago.

Hmm...ok?

I'm still at school...

One step outside its doors provided me with an invitation right back inside again. At least its full time and the pay is somewhat descent. I'm still clinging on to the hopes and dreams I barely see at the horizon.

But it felt strange the day I left my previous job, a job I have had for a very long time and one always justified by the notion that it's only extra, a good job while I was studying. I can't say that now. Somehow I have to justify this new job in some other way.

I usually just use fact that it's a harch time for academics in Sweden right now, and that you have to take the work offered to you. But I'm sick of all the excuses.


I've recovered from the blow to my identity and pride last week, even though it will take a very long time for Bajen to prove its worth again. A win on Sunday would help a bunch though.

This became another very short post, but I'm getting there.