How you use it is the measure of all things

This post is inspired by a conversation I had recently with a girl who's name I will deliberately neglect to mention.

The conversation has been edited so that intermediate talk is removed, so that we can get to the point of this post as quickly as possible.

"You are the best guy I've ever been with in bed, no doubt about that."

(An elaboration on the above statement follows and my head swells a little in quite comfortable a way)

Then after some more discussing matters both related and non related we get to the fulcrum of the happy odyssey my ego had been undertaking since the above quotation.

"You have a small penis" While this is quoted out of context and without the exact wording that certainly is capturing the gist of the original statement.

So, put together we get a compliment about sexual performance par excellance and what according to cultural trends readily could be seen as an insult to ones anatomy if looking from the perspective of a Caucasian male in his early 20's. ...

So, regardless of the fact that size Obviously does not compensate for know-how in the sack, something which most people have learned by now from authors and sexual therapists appearing on late night TV.. there are still things to be said about this!

Put together, the statement becomes (as have been OK ed by the girl who uttered it originally)

"You have a small cock BUT you are also the person whom I have had the best sex with, hands down"

The fun starts when I start asking different people if this is, put together, an insult or a compliment.

Girl 1-4 I ask, says that it is without question a compliment.

The gay guy I ask agrees wholeheartedly. It is a compliment.

Now, the straight guy in his early 20s:

"I would take this as a slight insult, but there is not a lot one can do about it. I do not have any 20cm either I can safely say. "

There is more to this but it is clear that my own amusement when wondering about this is well founded. I think the first five people asked are correct, but still. The straight guy asked comes up with the short statement that most closely mirrors my own initial reaction. It FEELS like a slight insult even if it is really not.

Thank you Americanized culture and size obsession.

Let's play Lions!

"Now! Do you know what I call this children?
I call it the perfect start to an evening! The night is young, there is a beautiful girl... and someone is going to die! It is you by the way."

"What?"

"Ok, What do you say I give you three goes?"

"...Goes?"

"With the knife. I'll just stand here and you can give me your best shot three times and afterwards once you are done I'll break your neck."

"You what?"

"Trust me the neck's good, quick for you easy for me eveeerybody wins!"

(Girl) : "Billy just LEAVE!

"That's an option, I'd consider that because quite honestly I am only in this to fuck your girlfriend"

(Billy tries his three goes with the knife)

(Billy apparently gets his neck broken)

(Turns to girl)

"Ok Lions! Do you know anything about lions?"
(Girl now and hence) : "Lions...?"
"You know what happens when the head lion gets killed by one of the young ones? You know what the lionesses do? They go straight into heat for the new head of the family, its like the old hubby is laying on the grass all the cubs have been slaughtered and suddenly everyone is singing "Can You Feel The Love Tonight".

"Do you want to play lions...?"
"Please let me go!"
"Nohohohoh come on! Let's play Liooooonnssss"
(Girl runs)
"Don't run, not when we are playing lions. You know what runs? Food runs."
"Let me go!"
(Roars) "Ca-ca-ca-ca catch you later"

--------------------------

Scene is sort of over. I will give a cookie to the first to name the show, character and actor playing said character.

I do not think anyone will take me up on this, but if you do, play nice children...

finished learning the world (book)

"We teach that the soul is immortal;
we teach that there is a future life;
we teach that there is a Heaven in the ages far away;
but not for us..."

Restless Sundays

The weekend is over and the show must go on. Another week is starting, a week that's pretty much a blank slate so far. Nothing planned, but it is a safe bet that it will contain working, going to the gym and groaning over high food prices.

Come to think of it, my life from the point where I stand seems much like living in limbo. I have no immediate goals, no very serious concerns no strong wants or needs. I look at the path before me and find myself feeling more than a little indifferent. I need to find some creative outlet but I fail to find activities that manage to excite me.
Which is why, I realize, I have been working myself so hard in the gym for the past few weeks. It is an outlet for a lot of bottled up energy and frustration. It too seems slightly the oxymoron that I'm frustrated over not having anything to get emotional (e.g. feeling frustration) about!

Anyhow, I've managed to write a blog entry for the night. It does not hold much content in it's short length I will have to admit. The plan is to try and become a habitual blogger so that when something worth writing about does stumble into my life I won't be to lazy to sit down and write it down. Clever, am I not?

Goodnight.

Hi, I am Adam

Yes I have not written anything for quite some time. I blame the lack internet in the combination with privacy.

Tonight was another Oslo night. A Saturday Oslo night at that, albeit not a crazy one. Should I be regretful or thankful. Probably the latter.

These last few months have been interesting, I've relocated. I've drunk a bit of Amunds Pils, cheap Norwegian bear for the unenlightened. I've been home, I've been drunk at several establishments. I've met several interesting people, and many not so interesting.
A highlight was Sonnie sniffing a 28 years old blond girls hair in front of us in line for our coats at closing time. It is a strange world when we after that can convince her, and her friend that we are not stalker rapists and I at least end up kissing something semi-pretty. (Not the blond mother mind)

But enough of highlights, tonight I am alone. I am finding myself in the unpleasant position of being drunk enough to have impaired writing skills yet not drunk enough to stop brooding or fall into sweet forgetful sleep. I am going to eat, I am going to sleep. Just not yet.

A thought arose, that I might have an unhealthy fetish for girls named Maria. I am on my third pretty girl named Maria which have left me more than a bit disappointed. Other names belonging to people whom I am interested in has yet to reach two. It's still not all that statistically unlikely that I "fall" for more girls named Maria but I need to watch how this develops. A "fetish" (used for lack of a better term) for a name seems rather pathetic and out of character for me, but hey it's hard to rationalize everything.

I ought to write some more on a little project that I have, you might have guessed that it's poetry. In a strike of inspiration I started writing something when I was home in Karlstad over the easter and have yet to pursue any serious continuation here in Oslo. hopefully that will come as I feel that this may be the best thing I have ever written. So stay tuned for that.

Going Norway

Tomorrow, I'm going to Oslo. What I'll find there, I have no clue. Work? Perhaps. Booze? Nah too expensive. Thank God for semi-legal imports.

Tonight was OK. Drunk at nöjesfabriken. Wicky stuck to me like glue to a bearded Mormon, which was a bad thing. Left even before the before-closing-have-to-find-cheap-sex frenzy. Probably healthy for me but my dong disagrees.

Hope things will work out in Norway. Wish me luck folks. Goodnight.

Finally

I feel fed up with my own decadence. I'm going for a run to clear my head and start working on getting my body back to a healthy state.....

This is going to be so much agonizing fun.

The new year.

Starts with me being bored out of my skull. Blogging is a bit of a last resort, I don't feel like it, really, yet it does have some therapeutic value and let's me kill time in a way that tricks me into thinking I am being productive. Oh well here we go:
New year's eve was adequate. It involved red wine, a little tequila and then some champagne. Oh and lots of tobacco. More on this a bit further down.

There's not much going on in my life right now, or well there is, it just does not feel like there is. If I try to pull some pieces of recollection from the drunken mist of last week, or the last ten days rather... I ought to find a couple of things of interest.

If we start with last Tuesday, as that seems a good place sort of in the middle of the current 'situation' which can describe the slope my life is currently tumbling down. (Will the life of Adam come to a gentle rest or crash and burn like Michael Moore's cardiovascular system after reaching for a Snickers bar from the top shelf? Who knows. Stay tuned and find out!).

Anyway, last Tuesday me and a couple of friends went to the pub/nightclub however you want to classify a place with two bars and a tiny dance-floor crammed with drunk people.
One of these friends is a lovely blond girl. She and I decided to share a bottle of red wine. Said and done. A bottle becomes two bottles and given the current state of my liver and the amount of beer I gulp down on the side pretty soon I am but the slightest bit tipsy. (Yes folks that's irony right there)

This is when my friends decide to leave. They have places to be. I don't. So I stay, and go on to have one of the most, as I felt at the moment, entertaining nights of the past year. There was a blond girl to dance with. Another blond girl to kiss and touch in R-rated places, and a third blond girl (who seemed really sweet and a bit shy) to thoroughly check me out while being comfortably surrounded and shielded by a circle of friends. Friends who were (equally thoroughly) entertained by seeing their friend look at me with STEAK DINNER written all over her face.
Then the place closes and I somehow wind up in an apartment together with a (not so blond) girl from Stockholm who later follows me over to my place. All of this seemed like a welcome boost to my confidence in a time when such are much needed. One could also describe it by saying that I'm a drunk male whore.
Not sure which position I myself take on the matter.

Wednesday, I don't remember. Probably in recovery.

Thursday: My second to last day at my now former job. Place was falling apart due to intense service demands and too little staff. It pleased me no end to see our employers begging everyone to extend their shifts while at the same time cutting down on personnel. Poetic fucking justice was a term which sprang to mind. Later in the evening there was a gathering at Åsa's place meeting a lot of not-so-long lost classmates, I've seen some of them the last 7 months but hey, It's always nice to spend an evening with some familiar faces from what in some ways was a very different life. They all seemed alive and kicking, which feels good to know now that I think about it.

Friday: Back at the same pub as Tuesday. I'm not as drunk, though that does not mean sober mind. Or as slutty. I'm there with Rolf, we meet a couple of his 'acquaintances' who are both female. I spend most of that evening conversing with one of them, with the net result of me giving her a phone number (my real number). I go home thinking "Hey that's a nice girl. No way she'll use that number for anything else than as a novelty keepsake".

Saturday: I do nothing, bored as I am now. However, the pretty girl from yesterday does text me. Oh the joy one feels when furthering loose 'acquaintances' with beautiful people.
Do realize that I'm at this point looking forward to the prospect of sitting down for a cup of coffee with this person. Just sitting down for a cup of coffee, and thinking that it would be enjoyable without any sexual undertones. Then I think "Oh fuck, you actually like her a little bit you dumb bastard. This ain't ending well". And the story continues;

Sunday: Visit to my mom. It's not horrible. Oh joy. Decides to go on something which would seem to be suspiciously close to a date but officially ('cuz she said so) A date with tall pretty blond girl from Friday. It was to take place Wednesday. Was looking forward to it.

Monday: The last day of 2007. The agenda: Getting drunk and fed in Degerfors at a serious sausage-fest. Worked out all right. Still legally drunk from that. Wicky was pissed at me for no reason, in her typical way. I'm mean to her in return. Proper mean. Rawr, makes me feel like a big man. *sigh* I want to be left alone as I'm drunk, tired, and not in the mood to 'dance' with an obnoxiously drunk Wictoria. Clearly lying on a sofa minding my own business and wanting to be left alone is a brutal offense warranting further abuse from an all too masculine woman who thinks people will listen more intently to what she's saying when she tries to sound like Barry White. Now I love Wictoria but for someone trying to be exquisitely aware of whats proper and politically correct she can be about as tactful as a orangutan drawing pictures of genitals, using feces, on a hundred thousand dollar oriental carpet.

Tuesday again: Here we are. I woke up to a text message from tall-pretty-blond girl saying that our Wednesday 'thing which was not a date' is off. Apparently she's now dating someone she's know for the past six years. I'm not surprised, I'm not mad, and I find myself wishing them well even though that sort of relationship is blacklisted as a No-No in my book. There's something about the transition from just-friend to boyfriend/girlfriend that seems to, from my own perceptions and experience that is, to fuck up whatever you try to do hence. I guess it's hard to build something else in the same spot you preciously had firmly allocated to a warehouse storing used parts and old slag products from for example, past relationships.

Oh well a little disappointment on top of the black month of December -07 won't push me over the edge. I laugh a bit at the fact that my timing when it comes to 'these things' ain't exactly hellacious.

Spoons are the ultimate eating tools

MMmm. Spoons.

Another week

And so much more alcohol. Really I cannot wait for this year to be over, going from health fascist to smelly derelict has been a hard and tiering process. I've only got two more days left at my current place of employment and the new year does hold great promise for betterment in pretty much conceivable category.

Aim is to move to Oslo, get a better job, meet new people and pull myself back together. Which means chaning back to a more constructive and less alcohol related lifestyle. Put the focus back on the body etc. It's going to be a hard couple of months at the (a new one) gym to get back to where I was towards the end of the summer. The upside is that I'm bristling with motivation.
My level of self loathing eventually reaches a fulcrum, I know since previous episodes of similar states of mind, and I'll swing back towards my previous sense of character and start acting accordingly again. Then again this autumn has been the most extreme episode as of yet. I've been throughly self destructive.
If I did not feel this blooming desire to do something about my situation I'd be seriously worried, yet certainty that I'll swing back instills confidence. Then yet again that might be a thing to consider in and of itself, I do tend react with a corresponding level of force to any issue I encounter. Pulling myself together from my current state is going to be a fast process. Which by implication means that I'm going to be rather harsh with myself coming the new year. It's got nothing to do with any sort of new years resolution, for me it's rapidly becoming an urgent psychological necessity to climb back up and seeing how far I feel I've fallen...

There is a lesson in this too, I don't particularly regret the way things are as I have a brighter tomorrow in front of me. The path is set and all that, it's just the work that remains and that comes much easier. The lesson I'm thinking of is that sometimes good thing come from firstly 'falling' a bit so to speak. For me I needed a great big kick in the balls from good ol' fate to get me going somewhere. When I think about it being stuck in wretched monotony at my now thankfully former workplace (even dissregarding the direct physical impact such as losing A LOT of weight and feeling like crap as soon as I wake up in the morning) that would probably be the worst thing I could do.

I'm off running towards the rising sun again, and with a bit of luck I'll find a happier tomorrow.

What about tuesday?

Firstly, I called in sick. I'm not sure if this is dishonest behavior on my part or what not since I'm feeling so much like a pile of crap that I can't even tell if It's my psychology messing with me or if my stomach is subject to an actual infection.

So what do I do? I go down and get a piercing. A metal stud through the eyebrow: A momentary distraction from psychological pain. Too bad it didn't last longer. Funny how the collective of mind and body tend to let physical pain override mental anxiety. Must be an evolutionary advantage in there.

Secondly, I've imbibed alcohol yet another night of the week, which makes for a total of let's see... four of the last seven. I don't think I should be worried yet but one does come to think of spare time alcoholics. New situations begets new understandings.

More precisely I went out and had a couple of beers with Viktor. Had a great time all in all. We got our fair share of complaining (well that was mostly me) and nostalgia out of it. Then I come home (time of this post) and my monstrous Winamp playlist tosses this song at me:

Puddle of Mud - She hates me

Met a girl
Thought she was grand
Fell in love
Found out first hand
Went well for a week or two
Then it all came unglued

In a trap
Trap I can't grip
Never thought I'd be the one who'd slip
Then I started to realize
I was living one big lie
She fuckin' hates me
Trust
She fuckin' hates me
La la la love
I tried too hard
And she tore my feelings like I had none
And ripped them away

She was queen for about an hour
After that, her shit got sour
She took all I ever had
No sign of guilt
No feeling of bad, no

That's my story
As you see
Learned my lesson
And so did she
Now it's over
And I'm glad
Cuz I'm a fool for all I said

I laughed, and laughed and then laughed some more upon hearing this.
Is this the workings of a talented songwriter able to jizz out something a lot of people can relate to or is it another sign that my current mental state truly is a stereotypical one?
Don't know, don't care, but by coincidence finding something so applicable to my current situation plus the fact that it's a mainstream oriented song amuses the hell out of me.

My personal pain ain't special. If I walk down the street getting honest answers out of people about their romancing experiences I'll find that what I feel ain't NOTHING new. People will say 'bin there done that'.
And the irony of that again makes me laugh, and laugh and laugh.... all the way to sleep.

Some quotes in my native tongue.

"Du är bara bitter för att du klantat dig med min bil, jag dissar dig och du har blivit av med jobbet....jag är ledsen för att du beter dig så jävla barnsligt just nu"

"Du är en sån där människa man bara mår dåligt av att träffa"

"Jag stör mig bara så mycket på så många av grejerna du gör"

"Så jävla pinsamt att du ringde och skämde ut dig förut, jag hade ju smsat till dig att jag inte ville bli störd"

And she thinks I'm mean to her.
And why do I hurt so easily?