<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826</id><updated>2011-11-15T20:18:41.482Z</updated><category term='kasabian'/><category term='Depeche Mode'/><category term='bank holiday'/><category term='Twitter'/><category term='Amsterdam'/><category term='Philippines'/><category term='hayfever'/><category term='Tina'/><category term='chat up line'/><category term='A Partial Print'/><category term='Arvingarna'/><category term='Friends'/><category term='lexxie'/><category term='Earl of Camden'/><category term='relationships'/><category term='winter'/><category term='London'/><category term='Roskilde'/><category term='Jamie Oliver'/><category term='Jill'/><category term='single life'/><category term='Bloc Party'/><category term='Deftones'/><category term='Skype'/><category term='Lill-lördag'/><category term='Sweden'/><category term='IKEA'/><category term='Jose Gonzalez'/><category term='folk music'/><category term='travel'/><category term='job'/><category term='Andrew'/><category term='Hump Day'/><category term='terrier'/><category term='30 Rock'/><category term='bicycle'/><category term='travel insurance'/><category term='Tiger Lou'/><category term='snus'/><category term='signs'/><category term='Bar Rumba'/><category term='dating'/><category term='the wannadies'/><category term='Danes'/><category term='driving'/><category term='work'/><category term='job hunt'/><category term='kids'/><category term='car'/><category term='Yo Sushi'/><category term='Morrissons'/><category term='dogs'/><category term='Boileroom'/><category term='Copenhagen'/><category term='everyday'/><category term='Christmas'/><category term='In Flames'/><category term='holiday'/><category term='gym'/><category term='nicotine'/><category term='Camden'/><category term='drunk'/><category term='The Inbetweeners'/><category term='party'/><category term='music'/><category term='Spotify'/><category term='Anchorman'/><category term='Möckelsnäs'/><category term='weekend'/><category term='bruised'/><category term='move'/><category term='Swedish folk music'/><category term='life'/><category term='Veto'/><category term='Deftnes'/><category term='Maps'/><category term='new times'/><category term='länsförsäkringar'/><category term='Shobben'/><category term='dansband'/><category term='Children of Bodom'/><category term='coffee'/><category term='hangover'/><category term='Florence and the Machine'/><category term='Skins'/><category term='St Patricks Day'/><category term='oasis'/><category term='love'/><category term='System of a down'/><category term='Thailand'/><category term='Yeasayer'/><category term='heating'/><title type='text'>cha cha cha</title><subtitle type='html'>No commercials. No mercy</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>89</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-1425138188718064716</id><published>2011-09-28T21:01:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2011-09-28T21:01:47.587+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bruised'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bicycle'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drunk'/><title type='text'>Bruised</title><content type='html'>Me and Tina went out for dinner and way too much alcohol this Saturday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It ended up with my head spinning like... I don't know what, just trying to remember makes me feel sick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't able to cycle, so had to walk with the bike. Maybe I thought it was supporting it. But then I fell. I don't know if I was trying to cycle at the time or if I was standing still and just fell. But my left leg got caught in the bike somehow and now my leg looks like this...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5nz1aVh93BQ/ToN8v6hCFgI/AAAAAAAAAFs/j-5neGoFRro/s1600/IMG-20110927-00096.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5nz1aVh93BQ/ToN8v6hCFgI/AAAAAAAAAFs/j-5neGoFRro/s320/IMG-20110927-00096.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This coming Saturday I will stay away from too much alcohol and bicycles. Well, I'm going to try!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-1425138188718064716?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/1425138188718064716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2011/09/bruised.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/1425138188718064716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/1425138188718064716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2011/09/bruised.html' title='Bruised'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-5nz1aVh93BQ/ToN8v6hCFgI/AAAAAAAAAFs/j-5neGoFRro/s72-c/IMG-20110927-00096.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-2025806102284168996</id><published>2011-04-04T11:27:00.001+01:00</published><updated>2011-04-04T11:27:36.636+01:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A weird Monday. Last Monday was weird as well. Last Monday was about recovering from the weekend as well. I have a feeling this is how the remaining three Mondays will be. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First weekend was late night partys. This weekend was adrenalin rushes and partying. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still fighting with a cold I tried to sleep as long as I could. T was in front of her laptop watching a film when I got up. I went to sit outside to have my coffee and check the interweb. Then I moved to the roof terrace to read. T stayed inside. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silent day. But maybe that's what's needed when you've spent 4 days with 9 other people being active like hell. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Off to the cinema now and dinner. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class='blogpress_location'&gt;Location:&lt;a href='http://maps.google.com/maps?q=Second%20holiday%20Monday&amp;z=10'&gt;Second holiday Monday&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-2025806102284168996?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/2025806102284168996/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2011/04/weird-monday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2025806102284168996'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2025806102284168996'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2011/04/weird-monday.html' title=''/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-8811071078204094370</id><published>2011-03-09T10:17:00.000Z</published><updated>2011-03-09T10:17:29.993Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='folk music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spotify'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='London'/><title type='text'>Folk music and sunshine</title><content type='html'>Huge folk music hunt on Spotify today. It suits the weather. The feeling of spring. The surreal feeling of knowing it's not long now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Intense weekend with visit from my dad and step-mom went by in a flash. Back at work yesterday, a Tuesday that never seemed to end. A Tuesday that started with apologies and ended with dine and wine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And an intense weekend ahead. Lots of alcohol (but that's not unusual) and being surrounded by all my awesome friends. Londoners meeting the non-Londoners. British meeting the foreigners.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mix and match and who knows what or who you'll catch.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-8811071078204094370?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/8811071078204094370/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2011/03/folk-music-and-sunshine.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/8811071078204094370'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/8811071078204094370'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2011/03/folk-music-and-sunshine.html' title='Folk music and sunshine'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-7335797024885385426</id><published>2011-02-24T00:01:00.000Z</published><updated>2011-02-24T00:01:56.378Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='länsförsäkringar'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sweden'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel insurance'/><title type='text'>I'm impressed, are you impressed?</title><content type='html'>So... I've been travel insurance hunting. And I haven't been enjoying it. Not at all. And I prefer hunting for nice things. Like clothes or a good looking man. But travel insurance? Yuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then my friend in Sweden said: Why not get a home insurance? You need one for when you come back, and the home insurance has cover for travels. Yep, that's right. Swedish home insurance have cover for travels, without demanding extra money. I had completely forgotten about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went home. Fired up the old sugar laptop. Went on Lansforsakringars website, as I know they're good. Started my quote. Was presented with what cover you get. So not only for your precious possessions, you also get third liability, solicitor, if you're assaulted and travel. Cover for trips up to 45 days I have to add. All that in one home insurance. And with an added drulle cover, my premium for a year would be 605 kr, about £58.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was impressed. Very impressed. And better cover when travelling than anything I've looked at on British insurance sites without having to pay a fortune.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Halleluja.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I simply had to share that piece of Swedish awesomeness.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-7335797024885385426?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/7335797024885385426/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2011/02/im-impressed-are-you-impressed.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/7335797024885385426'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/7335797024885385426'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2011/02/im-impressed-are-you-impressed.html' title='I&apos;m impressed, are you impressed?'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-2404833476395141177</id><published>2011-02-23T13:36:00.000Z</published><updated>2011-02-23T13:36:53.096Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Philippines'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sweden'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chat up line'/><title type='text'>Not long now</title><content type='html'>Suddenly D-day is within visible distance. I can't help but be scared and excited. And a little bit sad too. Trying to think about what I'm coming home to, and not so much what I'm leaving. But I can't help but think of the people I love and will miss incredibly much. Or all the things available here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thought of not having loads of bars, pubs and clubs to choose from makes me want to quickly create a clone and send that to Sweden. Maybe I'm still too single? It's not like I've got a man waiting for me. Although I will be living on a mansion and I've been told that works very well as a chat up line. At least it works for guys. The question is, will a guy be impress if I ask him:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you want to come back to my mansion?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will eventually find out I guess. Unless the man asked is at the mansion, attending a party. Then it would be slightly silly. But I could say:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Want to come back to my room?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That might work too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A month from now I will be ready to go to the Philippines. 33 days of sunshine, heat and beaches. Yeah, I can live with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then back to Sweden. To the mansion. Find a job. Have a fucking good time. Get drunk with my brother. Have coffee with my dad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can do this.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-2404833476395141177?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/2404833476395141177/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2011/02/not-long-now.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2404833476395141177'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2404833476395141177'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2011/02/not-long-now.html' title='Not long now'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-8596948360219676604</id><published>2011-02-09T09:22:00.001Z</published><updated>2011-02-09T09:22:49.595Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Philippines'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job hunt'/><title type='text'>Time to get crackin'</title><content type='html'>Six weeks from today I'm starting my trip to the Philippines. It feels a bit surreal thinking that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It also means I'm one day and five weeks away from being in between jobs. That means I need to start job hunting. No more lazing around missy! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On a Scandinavian note, England is up against Denmark tonight. Go Denmark!!! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-8596948360219676604?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/8596948360219676604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2011/02/time-to-get-crackin.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/8596948360219676604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/8596948360219676604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2011/02/time-to-get-crackin.html' title='Time to get crackin&amp;#39;'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-8207258473321289810</id><published>2011-02-02T13:25:00.001Z</published><updated>2011-02-02T13:25:16.534Z</updated><title type='text'>You</title><content type='html'>Yesterday, when we were standing in the crowd, music surrounding us, I realised how much I'm going to miss you. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How unbelievably much I'm going to miss you. Hanging out with you, laughing, being silly, being drunk, being hungover, doing whatever. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's going to be so hard to leave you. To say good bye. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that day isn't that far away anymore. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-8207258473321289810?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/8207258473321289810/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2011/02/you.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/8207258473321289810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/8207258473321289810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2011/02/you.html' title='You'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-911615438324179053</id><published>2011-01-26T21:09:00.000Z</published><updated>2011-01-26T21:09:25.166Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='move'/><title type='text'>Time - slow down</title><content type='html'>D-day is getting closer and closer. And my head starts spinning more and more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Am I doing the right thing? Yes you are. But... Yes, but?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I need to leave. For how long I don't know. Although when I made the decision to leave my situation was a lot more unhappy. And then I moved in with Barbara and Jan. And it was the best thing I've done in many years. And a part of me starts thinking... maybe I shouldn't. Maybe I shouldn't. But I know I have to. I have the opportunity to this NOW.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There are a couple of things I need a break from and get a distance to. And then see what happens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anything can happen after 27 April.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-911615438324179053?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/911615438324179053/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2011/01/time-slow-down.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/911615438324179053'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/911615438324179053'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2011/01/time-slow-down.html' title='Time - slow down'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-8618910890089934547</id><published>2010-09-16T13:42:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-16T14:04:00.944+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='new times'/><title type='text'>Awaking from slumber</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;I'm stretching. Arms, legs and back. Trying to make myself as tall as possible. Stretching slowly. Waking my drousy limbs. Opening my eyes slowly. Registering where I am, closing them again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Letting my brain take its time to register place and time. Not ready yet to leave the warmth of sleep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not ready yet to face the day and sip my first cup of coffee. Not ready yet to be bombarded with news and to-do-lists. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the final energy bill has been settled and I've been given my deposit back, I will leave the past weeks slumber and get dressed and reach for that cup of coffee.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class='zemanta-pixie'&gt;&lt;img src='http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=3579451e-2f42-84cb-8191-0e99a53b4f70' alt='' class='zemanta-pixie-img'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-8618910890089934547?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/8618910890089934547/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/09/awaking-from-slumber.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/8618910890089934547'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/8618910890089934547'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/09/awaking-from-slumber.html' title='Awaking from slumber'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-3187626043684663410</id><published>2010-09-14T12:53:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-14T13:14:19.361+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Leaning mode</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;It's one of those days when I need someone to lean against. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Someone to vent my silly thoughts to. Someone who will make me think of something else. Or tell me how silly I am for thinking those things. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the silly things are lined up, they've taken a number and are queuing to get inside. To have a play and mess things up. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For now I have to use music to lean against. Or hide in. Hide amongst. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over and out.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class='zemanta-pixie'&gt;&lt;img src='http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=cffe5804-15a5-81cf-9a46-99ac3c36519f' alt='' class='zemanta-pixie-img'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-3187626043684663410?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/3187626043684663410/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/09/leaning-mode.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/3187626043684663410'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/3187626043684663410'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/09/leaning-mode.html' title='Leaning mode'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-6127811185943311246</id><published>2010-09-06T09:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-09-06T09:33:38.783+01:00</updated><title type='text'>4 more sleeps</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;Monday night, Tuesday night, Wednesday night, Thursday night. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that will be it. It will be the end of the beginning of the end of the beginning of the end of the beginning of something new. Something old. Something blue. Something borrowed. Something stolen. Something whatever it is more. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Feeling a little bit anxious of what is to come. How the change will be. I just know it can't be worse than what is has been. If it would be, I would resign. But it won't be. Come on, positive thoughts. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a game plan. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A plan that reeks of rock n roll, good things, booze, tired dancing feet, sparkling eyes, a smiling face and the return of Karolina.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class='zemanta-pixie'&gt;&lt;img src='http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=7cf9ab15-41d0-8189-bb83-074869b7e1e2' alt='' class='zemanta-pixie-img'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-6127811185943311246?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/6127811185943311246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/09/4-more-sleeps.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/6127811185943311246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/6127811185943311246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/09/4-more-sleeps.html' title='4 more sleeps'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-7513357419519920265</id><published>2010-08-26T15:59:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-26T16:19:55.947+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The uninevitable</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;15 minutes left of work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to leave, but lacking the motivation to do work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A faint stomach ache is announcing itself. The same kind of stomach I used to have when living with my ex and I was returning "home" from a days work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The pain that comes from not knowing what's to come, knowing it's uninevitable and unpleasant. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should've packed an overnight bag to keep in the car. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;12 minutes left.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class='zemanta-pixie'&gt;&lt;img src='http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=30a356db-afbc-85d2-8a9a-cf6fa42c10d7' alt='' class='zemanta-pixie-img'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-7513357419519920265?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/7513357419519920265/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/08/uninevitable.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/7513357419519920265'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/7513357419519920265'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/08/uninevitable.html' title='The uninevitable'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-2928816901945058178</id><published>2010-08-25T21:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-25T21:23:08.926+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Silver lining</title><content type='html'>Mr. Ellis' words echoing, trying to bounce them between the walls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know you have many people that support you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know was my reply. Two hours later that knowledge seems so distant. Seems so vague.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can see the words line up on a horison that seems million miles away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reaching out with technology, feeling a bit lifted, but still wish there was someone here to give me a hug.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-2928816901945058178?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/2928816901945058178/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/08/silver-lining.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2928816901945058178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2928816901945058178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/08/silver-lining.html' title='Silver lining'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-4070627354347018367</id><published>2010-08-13T07:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-13T08:17:16.985+01:00</updated><title type='text'>What the...?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;I woke up 10 minutes before the alarm today. Something woke me up, woke me from my dream. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a weird one. I watched it unfold in my head as I was waking up more and more and the question mark got bigger and bigger. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was in a house, that was suppose to be my home. Kim, Mira and Mie was there too. With Kim and Mira being the lodgers, as it is now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was stuff everywhere. Like it is now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked past a room, and I could hear my sister and her husband arguing. But that was suppose to happen in their house. Then I was back in my house, and my sister was moving in again, because they had once again split up. With Mira and Kim already living there, her spot on the floor was by the dining table, which we moved somewhere else. Me and my sister talked about the abortion she had had. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mie told her that since my sister was the oldest living in our house, we were to follow her rules. She could arrange the room as she wanted, and to decide on everything pretty much. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly I was at the hospital because my grandmother had passed away (she passed away last November), but maybe she hadn't actually passed away. It had been two weeks and we knew she was in the cold room. We managed to get the doctors to bring her out and as she got warmer, she came back to life. And as she opened her eyes, she recognised me and first thing she asked was where my stepdad was. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So then me and my brother had to quickly call our stepdad and his siblings to stop them from going ahead with the funeral, because she was alive! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that I was back in the house, a few more people were there. The chef was one of them. And he was upset over something. He walked out the door and I called after him and he told me to leave him alone. I walked back in, and asked an Asian guy what had happened. And it turned out that the chef had asked him about his hair, and the Asian guy had said it looked just fine in the back, but the chef had gotten upset and left. &lt;br /&gt;I remember getting angry with this Asian guy, because I knew that what he had said wasn't a nice thing to say. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then I woke up. In my field and cloud duvet set, looked at my phone that said 06:05. 10 minutes later Diane with Therapy? started playing and it was time to leave the warmth and step into cooler temperature. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Friday.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class='zemanta-pixie'&gt;&lt;img src='http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=2be69a48-6708-814a-a8cd-6c6e2f36a61c' alt='' class='zemanta-pixie-img'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-4070627354347018367?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/4070627354347018367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/08/what.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/4070627354347018367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/4070627354347018367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/08/what.html' title='What the...?'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-2678040709976499921</id><published>2010-08-02T11:13:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-08-02T11:33:33.097+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The impossible possible</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;It's been 4 office hours. I still haven't managed to hold on to one single thought that has to do with work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Focus is everywhere but where it should be. I'm more easily distracted than a poodle. Only standing still on one thread 5 minutes at a time. After that I see something that seems more interesting. So I go to there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would have been better off not going to work today. I should have taken a personal day. To finish up some creative projects. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nothing to do with you or anything."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could get up and leave. Moon walk my way out of the building. Theoretically I could. But the world isn't a place where we all just DO what we all FEEL like. There's too many people around for it to work. Or is it? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just going to play with the idea of me just getting up from my chair, leave the building and drive to Teddington. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DO and FEEL are the words of the day. They don't go hand in hand very often. Usually, they're heading into different directions. Now and then, their paths will cross, and things are turned upside down, inside out. DO tries to quiet FEEL. FEEL is trying to persuade DO to follow it's lead. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;DO usually don't.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class='zemanta-pixie'&gt;&lt;img src='http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=8f595977-5128-83c3-8922-afc655e0cb34' alt='' class='zemanta-pixie-img'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-2678040709976499921?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/2678040709976499921/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/08/impossible-possible.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2678040709976499921'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2678040709976499921'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/08/impossible-possible.html' title='The impossible possible'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-3535041636532582629</id><published>2010-07-27T11:42:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-27T12:02:25.085+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Faketastic</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;All things plastic makes life faketastic. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Glue a smile on the frown. Glue the skin to the back of the head. Blend hair from someone else into your own. Stuff the fun bags with liquid. Extend what's not there. Burn the skin to another colour. Your personality comes with the trendy garment. In a plastic bag with the right name on it. Tune in, find your new favourite artist. Tune in a week later, find a new one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Say &lt;a target='_blank' href='http://www.sheep.com/sounds/baasheep1.wav'&gt;baaaa&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class='zemanta-pixie'&gt;&lt;img src='http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=a12103ee-beb1-8c47-a2b0-ba3b021f0e8a' alt='' class='zemanta-pixie-img'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-3535041636532582629?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/3535041636532582629/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/07/faketastic.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/3535041636532582629'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/3535041636532582629'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/07/faketastic.html' title='Faketastic'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-5844328866263530416</id><published>2010-07-08T23:20:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-08T23:20:50.598+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost and not found</title><content type='html'>I thought I was almost home. That I had found my place. That I had found a place within my place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the rain came. With it, the wind. With the wind, the storm. With the storm, the loss of shelter. Without the shelter I had no safe place. No place that would stand ground against the wear and tear that is life and everyday battles. Battles that go on for too long. That doesn't allow time to stop and breathe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had to bow my head against the wind. Looking at the ground. Not taking my eyes off the ground.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Until I could feel the harbour getting close. Getting within reach, within reality. It wasn't just a vague line, I could see rays of sunshine bring out the colours, hear sounds, the smells. All the things that were familiar. I would soon be there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One phone call with news turned the harbour into a destination of worry, of pain, the pain of loosing someone that wasn't suppose be lost already.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The feeling of home was burdened of sorrow. My chance to breathe and charge was lost, before I had the chance to grab it. Energy I didn't have was used. Energy I needed was lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came back, feeling the same way as before I left. Filled with sadness. Sadness I hoped would've been eased before I came back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came back, not knowing where I belong. Again. Feeling lonely with people around me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Missing support. Missing love. Missing consolidation. Missing myself.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-5844328866263530416?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/5844328866263530416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/07/lost-and-not-found.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/5844328866263530416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/5844328866263530416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/07/lost-and-not-found.html' title='Lost and not found'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-2983769897820437249</id><published>2010-07-07T08:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-07-07T08:59:13.519+01:00</updated><title type='text'>To let something out</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;I want to scream and shout. Shout and scream. Get it all out. Whatever it is. That thing in there that makes me want to scream and shout. And not care that tears come out to play too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all. Scream and shout. Maybe a kick. A punch. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But most of all. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Screams and shouts.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class='zemanta-pixie'&gt;&lt;img src='http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=6f832fd9-415d-8595-8134-af73e0f0054d' alt='' class='zemanta-pixie-img'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-2983769897820437249?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/2983769897820437249/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/07/to-let-something-out.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2983769897820437249'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2983769897820437249'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/07/to-let-something-out.html' title='To let something out'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-4902511986960809394</id><published>2010-06-22T08:40:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-22T08:59:26.233+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Roskilde'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sweden'/><title type='text'>The day after tomorrow</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;It's almost time. The day that seemed to distant, so very far away, like I would never get there. In one piece. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now it's suddenly the day after tomorrow that I finally go home-home. Home-home to see my beloved brother, dad, friends. To get some rest from the UK chaos. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Midsummer party with amazing people, in an amazing house by the lake, see as many friends as I can, but most of all... rest. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The 5 days at Roskilde will be a test. A Karolina and Tina test for the future. If we come out of that still as good friends, we know it's good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things are blowing hot again.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class='zemanta-pixie'&gt;&lt;img src='http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=4d13f9f1-cc7a-864e-9efd-bc4c8db408a7' alt='' class='zemanta-pixie-img'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-4902511986960809394?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/4902511986960809394/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/06/day-after-tomorrow.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/4902511986960809394'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/4902511986960809394'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/06/day-after-tomorrow.html' title='The day after tomorrow'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-7378051266274041513</id><published>2010-06-02T14:39:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T14:57:40.059+01:00</updated><title type='text'>22 days</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;21 days too many.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class='zemanta-pixie'&gt;&lt;img src='http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=87cf5a33-2b33-8665-9d7c-e5c8c8ccf9ea' alt='' class='zemanta-pixie-img'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-7378051266274041513?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/7378051266274041513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/06/22-days.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/7378051266274041513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/7378051266274041513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/06/22-days.html' title='22 days'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-2524032119769799163</id><published>2010-06-01T21:54:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-06-01T21:54:49.774+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I left my heart in the beach shop</title><content type='html'>Road trip to Poole yesterday. Mission: take Kim home and to work. Driver: Mie. Passengers in the back: Me and Tina.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We saw sunshine, harbour, boats, wind surfers, the sea, buried our feets in the softest sand and joyfully shrieked when the ice cold water washed over our feet. And then we stayed away from the water. Shaking our heads at the people actually being in the water. Not that they were that many, but enough for head shaking movements.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Headed towards the beach shop for icecream. I turned around to pay, and bang, 1, 2, 3 and my heart was sold to the boy with the gorgeous blue eyes. I think we had moment. I think my bluegreen (?) eyes won him over too. And my heart shaped tattoo, that he complimented.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pretty beach boy stole a piece of my heart. He's more than welcome to keep it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-2524032119769799163?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/2524032119769799163/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-left-my-heart-in-beach-shop.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2524032119769799163'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2524032119769799163'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/06/i-left-my-heart-in-beach-shop.html' title='I left my heart in the beach shop'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-5025818908432869010</id><published>2010-05-28T10:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-28T10:41:17.535+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Are we gonna have dessert or disaster?</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;Are we there yet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Friday. And I'm painting it blue and yellow, listening to the very early ABBA. When the male part of the constellation did quite a bit of singing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sister moves out from her house today. Today the change begins. I look at the uncertain outcome of this change with a tablespoon of curiousity, 0.5 gram of something like fear, and a pinch of mixed feelings. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Hang on, was that an attempt to joddling at the end of "People need love"?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7 more drives with Byron. It's going to be empty without him in the car. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are we there yet?&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class='zemanta-pixie'&gt;&lt;img src='http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=bf8009f0-0d8a-8651-84a8-d0cc3c27f6de' alt='' class='zemanta-pixie-img'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-5025818908432869010?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/5025818908432869010/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/05/are-we-gonna-have-dessert-or-disaster.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/5025818908432869010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/5025818908432869010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/05/are-we-gonna-have-dessert-or-disaster.html' title='Are we gonna have dessert or disaster?'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-7363301416458506536</id><published>2010-05-27T11:00:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-27T11:18:09.936+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Looking for arms to steal</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;These past few days the crave for a pair of arms to crawl into has gotten bigger and bigger. A pair of arms that would make me feel safe and where I could just stop listening to others and myself for a while. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to rest. Close my eyes for a little while and pretend the world out there doesn't exist. Or exists in a better universe. Be somewhere where no one demands things from me, where I don't have to feel quilty for not sympathising or thinking "You started it, I can't feel sorry for you if it's making your life difficult". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know what's expected of me. Am I expected to be on her side 100% even though I disapprove of the things she's done? Just because I'm the sister? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just tried to be non-partial for a minute or two and it feels like I got shit back for it. Maybe I hit a nerv. Maybe we're too different for us to be able to discuss it. Maybe I don't know her well enough, because knowing her that well would mean knowing things I don't want to know. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or maybe I'm just a sucker for supporting the underdogs more? And she's not the underdog. Maybe I see our mum too much in her and that makes me want to rebel? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;28 days left. 28 days too many. I want to escape now.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class='zemanta-pixie'&gt;&lt;img src='http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=2b1de653-debd-8d07-b567-ec0abd62518c' alt='' class='zemanta-pixie-img'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-7363301416458506536?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/7363301416458506536/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/05/looking-for-arms-to-steal.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/7363301416458506536'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/7363301416458506536'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/05/looking-for-arms-to-steal.html' title='Looking for arms to steal'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-4358551755693187304</id><published>2010-05-26T08:54:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-26T09:12:28.710+01:00</updated><title type='text'>29 days</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;...and counting. I'm in desperate need of this Sweden trip. And the need is going to grow bigger for every mental or physical cross in the calendar. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Energy is nowhere to be found. I can see a list of things to reply to, to look into, to search for, to do. But my arm that should reach for it, sneeks behind my back and refuses to come out. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can see a few factors being the reason for the tiredness. But no energy to deal with them. Catch 22, come on in and make yourself comfortable. No, don't take your pants off! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Great, now I have a naked Catch 22 on my sofa. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'll be on The Smashing Pumpkins today. It feels right. Starting with the Adore album.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class='zemanta-pixie'&gt;&lt;img src='http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=6e0a9fa2-5248-8766-8ee3-fa6de7ea6484' alt='' class='zemanta-pixie-img'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-4358551755693187304?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/4358551755693187304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/05/29-days.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/4358551755693187304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/4358551755693187304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/05/29-days.html' title='29 days'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-3371493857723306809</id><published>2010-05-24T10:50:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-24T11:08:54.602+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Lost at sea</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;More knackered after a weekend that had less alcohol and more sleep, than the last one that had the opposite? It didn't make sense at first. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I thought it must have to do with dealing with sister's, what now seems unavoidable, divorce. It felt like it escalated over a few days, and I wasn't really prepared or wasn't keeping the same pace, and so I don't know how to handle it. The surprising request from brother-in-law about a chat about the whole thing, added to the mental load. And then a sister using my flatmate to say that she wanted to know what we had talked about. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That was the final drop for Saturday. I took my dear friend Andrew's advice and left the flat before they got back. Almost ran out of it, looking back towards the bus stop as I got out on the street. Hurrying around the corner to see the toy friend just getting out of the car. And my head was too occupied with divorce mess, to take time and think if it was weird or not to see him again. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister called me when we had gotten to the first pub. Thinking she was going to try and get information out of me, I pressed her off. Not wanting to be used as some information gatherer, having each of them talk to me and then forward whatever I find out. No thanks. I just have a weird vibe about the whole thing. It feels so rushed, that everything has to happen now. Preferrably always the day before. And I honestly don't know what to think about it all, and I feel guilt over the fact that I somehow can't bring myself to want to give her massive support, whilst it feels like everyone else (read: her friends, including my flatmate), seems to think she's the one to feel most sorry for. Or maybe it is because I know that her husband doesn't have the same support from friends here that she has, and so she doesn't really need me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class='zemanta-pixie'&gt;&lt;img src='http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=42fb8ac6-518e-8492-991d-9871e0dcf7a5' alt='' class='zemanta-pixie-img'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-3371493857723306809?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/3371493857723306809/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/05/lost-at-sea.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/3371493857723306809'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/3371493857723306809'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/05/lost-at-sea.html' title='Lost at sea'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-7732458348870357446</id><published>2010-05-21T09:12:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-21T09:30:49.310+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The ultimate pick me up</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;It's Friday and all relaxed in the office, manager isn't in yet, so we're all enjoying the quiet morning. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Me not hearing right, turned snatch napkin into snapkin. A quick google led to the Urban Dictionary, and the meaning to that word was not something I was expecting. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Adam typed in his name, I did a search on mine. And wow, what amazing descriptions. And they're all true! &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Read it all &lt;a target='_blank' href='http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=karolina'&gt;here&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;It's Friday y'all!&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class='zemanta-pixie'&gt;&lt;img src='http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=084bc06e-a94c-80a1-a5f6-8219d58b5d1f' alt='' class='zemanta-pixie-img'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-7732458348870357446?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/7732458348870357446/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/05/ultimate-pick-me-up.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/7732458348870357446'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/7732458348870357446'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/05/ultimate-pick-me-up.html' title='The ultimate pick me up'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-7442870415974475689</id><published>2010-05-20T08:59:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-20T09:17:52.896+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The times are a changing</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;1.5 hours in on my work day and the amount of work I've done is pretty much nothing. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;First some web browsing (don't tell anyone) and then my sister called. On my work phone at least, and manager had gone off to do school run, so it was just me and Adam here. We talked about her possible divorce coming up. Yes. It is on the verge of happening. It's probably best for everyone involved. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Yesterday Ginger texted me. A kind of normal text, but these have in the past led to a trap. This one wasn't that much of a trap. But it was to give the news of her pregnancy. At least the father isn't the man she's trying to divorce. It's her 21 year old boyfriend that's the lucky man. But only being 5 weeks into the pregnancy, me thinks it's a bit early to tell the world. And here I am, spreading the news onwards. If anyone of you can figure out who Ginger is. Hint; it's not me. I'm a brunette nowadays, or try to be. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;So. That's that. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;O o o. The big day is upon us. Popping the speed dating cherry tonight. Partner in crime: Tuddilu. It's going to be interesting. And I hope Lexxie isn't going to repeat this morning's funny business with not wanting to start without a lot of revving. Bad girl. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;It's my name day in Sweden today. And I'm enjoying the Happy name day wishes from my homies back home. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Happy Karolina name day to me! &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class='zemanta-pixie'&gt;&lt;img src='http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=e4101bcb-2a67-84b0-8bca-3901d2e05f17' alt='' class='zemanta-pixie-img'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-7442870415974475689?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/7442870415974475689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/05/times-are-changing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/7442870415974475689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/7442870415974475689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/05/times-are-changing.html' title='The times are a changing'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-4985221458307934479</id><published>2010-05-11T21:23:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-11T21:23:45.628+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Deftones'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='30 Rock'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Skype'/><title type='text'>Viva la Skype</title><content type='html'>Every Tuesday at 7.30pm it's Skype with Ida. It's a wicked way to end Tuesdays. To be able to chat about all and nothing. Keep each other updated. I still miss her like crazy, but these weekly chats easens it a little.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can't wait to see her in June. I'm hoping she will come to her senses and join me and Tina at Ekudden for midsummer. It would make a midsummer that already looks to be awesome, to be even more awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Talked to lillebror on Skype yesterday. First time in weeks. Not good. I miss him so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2010 has so far been the worst in homesickness. I don't know how many times the homesickness has caused an imaginative physical heartache.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The faulty toy took me off his facebook. He said he was too jealous for his own good. I couldn't help but think "Karolina - Faulty Toy: 1-0". Bygones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now: 30 Rock. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tomorrow: DEFTONES&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-4985221458307934479?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/4985221458307934479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/05/viva-la-skype.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/4985221458307934479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/4985221458307934479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/05/viva-la-skype.html' title='Viva la Skype'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-3397769508467833956</id><published>2010-05-04T21:21:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-04T21:21:24.506+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='signs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='relationships'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Twitter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='single life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bloc Party'/><title type='text'>Poisonous thoughts</title><content type='html'>Saturday night. Drinks with Tina and Nina downstairs. &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;Girly&lt;/span&gt; talk and not so &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;girly&lt;/span&gt; talk. And with two of three being single, dating was discussed. And once again I got to hear from Nina, the theories of why I am (still) single, ventured to Nina by someone in my closest circle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently I'm too much of a friend with guys. And there might also be a risk that I'm afraid of being in a relationship again. The fear thing, fair enough, I think I have reasons for that (not I think I feel that fear), and they're probably threefold. But there we were again, me hearing about the friend theory. Told by someone who's since she was 17 or something hasn't been single for more than a few months. And that one time in between then and now that she was single, she got back together with the guy she was with when she was 15 or 16. So spare me your thoughts on why I'm single.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But once again, a poisonous seed was planted. And as much as that person's theory is putting the fault on me, I've been doing the same. Wondering if the blame is to be put on me. Maybe it is my fault? But at the same time, knowing that it isn't. I don't like it. It reminds me too much of how my ex made me become my own worst enemy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The dream I had Sunday night didn't exactly help either. With my ex coming back to haunt me, treating me in the dream like he used to do. And to top it all of, in front of the faulty toy. I woke up angry and sad. But mostly angry. And as Monday went on, the dream hung to the back of my mind like garlic on your breath. I couldn't help to think if my sub conscience was trying to tell me something. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that being one of today's topic in the web of thoughts, the first tweet I read today was &lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span class="status-content"&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;"Never allow someone to be your priority while  allowing yourself to be their option", followed by "&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span class="status-content"&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;Often it isn't holding on that makes us strong but  letting go". Written by my latest Twitter friend &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;jmabell&lt;/span&gt;.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span class="status-content"&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span class="status-content"&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;If I'd chosen to listen to Signs by Bloc Party first thing this morning, it would've been bulls eye.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span class="status-content"&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span class="status-content"&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;At least I escaped the dark cloud hanging over this week with an hour &lt;span class="goog-spellcheck-word"&gt;Skype&lt;/span&gt; chat with Ida. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span class="status-content"&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span class="status-content"&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;On my own again, just me and my thoughts. Fuelled by a little bit of red wine. And music.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span class="status-content"&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span class="status-content"&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;I'm just gonna start working on a pep talk list. If anyone thinks they can help; don't be shy. Just bring some booze. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="status-body"&gt;&lt;span class="status-content"&gt;&lt;span class="entry-content"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-3397769508467833956?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/3397769508467833956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/05/poisonous-thoughts.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/3397769508467833956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/3397769508467833956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/05/poisonous-thoughts.html' title='Poisonous thoughts'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-7887154164233795706</id><published>2010-05-03T18:16:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-05-03T18:16:32.835+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Friday night project</title><content type='html'>I had promised my brother to send him a few mixed cd's. I decided to make some cd covers.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L8pe11tzZZI/S98D1GrK_jI/AAAAAAAAAAo/rH_kozOXs9Y/s1600/IMG_1987.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L8pe11tzZZI/S98D1GrK_jI/AAAAAAAAAAo/rH_kozOXs9Y/s320/IMG_1987.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope he'll like them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-7887154164233795706?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/7887154164233795706/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/05/friday-night-project.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/7887154164233795706'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/7887154164233795706'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/05/friday-night-project.html' title='Friday night project'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L8pe11tzZZI/S98D1GrK_jI/AAAAAAAAAAo/rH_kozOXs9Y/s72-c/IMG_1987.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-1108155095822648653</id><published>2010-04-29T09:28:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-29T09:45:49.812+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Just like that</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;Sue came over to our corner. I thought she was after Andy. But she wasn't stopping at his desk, and she was looking at me. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Oh, I better take out my headphones. She was holding three 100 SEK notes in her hand. Asked if it was still valid money in Sweden. Yes, I said. How much is this in pounds then? Between 25 and 30 I said. And then she gave them to me, said something about pocket money for when I go to Sweden next. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;I..? Wha...t? Where did you find them?&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;I didn't hear what she said. People were taking the mick all around me. But there I sat, with 300 SEK in my hand, not really sure what had just happened. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;But Thursday is one kick-ass day so far. 13 days left till the Deftones gig. I think it's going to be absolutely heart stopping great. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class='zemanta-pixie'&gt;&lt;img src='http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=eb9b8c61-c3b2-8335-aa55-11e5a5466dfd' alt='' class='zemanta-pixie-img'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-1108155095822648653?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/1108155095822648653/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/04/just-like-that.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/1108155095822648653'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/1108155095822648653'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/04/just-like-that.html' title='Just like that'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-4453362096120914604</id><published>2010-04-28T20:07:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-28T20:07:17.791+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Andrew'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Deftnes'/><title type='text'>Deftones happiness</title><content type='html'>Finally the day was here, when the tickets to the gig in London with Deftones was released.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was walking back from the river in a slow pace, when I saw an email on my phone about the tickets. My pace was suddenly speeded up. It felt like I was miles away from the flat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ran up the stairs, straight to my laptop, power on, impatiently waiting (but blessing it for not being slow) for me to be able to click my way to happiness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when I had bought the tickets, I called Andrew, who I had already last week decided was going to come with me, but he didn't answer. I sent a text. I sent another one. And then I waited. Wanting to shout out the news to the world, but wanted to tell him first.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally I got a text saying "Call me". So I did. And I made his day. I made my day. And it's only two weeks. Two weeks from today, we're at the venue, waiting for this amazing band to come on and it will be the second time in 8 months that we will see them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired now. All this excitement is tiring. But a happy tiredness. I even managed to let out a happy sigh, according to Mie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2 weeks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-4453362096120914604?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/4453362096120914604/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/04/deftones-happiness.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/4453362096120914604'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/4453362096120914604'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/04/deftones-happiness.html' title='Deftones happiness'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-606863168869762350</id><published>2010-04-28T13:31:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-28T13:48:33.072+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Dropping of names</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;Adam, the oh so talented discussion starter, threw the question of which actors are in our top ten at us. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;He then quickly followed it up with answering it himself, Will Smith as the best one there is. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Noooooo. We all said. Or three of us. Paul wasn't there at the start, Dave is not in as usual, and Essa kept quiet. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;("It's always the quiet ones" is the expression, what will Essa surprise us with?)&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;The challenge was on. At first we didn't seem to be able to come up with any names. That wasn't good. Then we gradually started dropping names like... nothing else. And by the end of it, I think we felt quite pleased. Proud of ourselves. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;I'm thinking about running Tjejmilen in Stockholm in September. It's 6.2 miles. I've got guidelines of how to train to do it in 60 minutes. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Andrew. I will see you next Saturday. Maybe the sun will show it's lovely face for us then. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class='zemanta-pixie'&gt;&lt;img src='http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=fb81b0bb-4e0d-8268-a5a1-0c6e33a471e9' alt='' class='zemanta-pixie-img'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-606863168869762350?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/606863168869762350/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/04/dropping-of-names.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/606863168869762350'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/606863168869762350'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/04/dropping-of-names.html' title='Dropping of names'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-8052694333967684341</id><published>2010-04-28T11:26:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-28T11:44:44.665+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Home</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;&lt;p align='center'&gt;Alabama Arkansas I do Love my Ma and Pa&lt;br/&gt;But not as much as I do Love you&lt;br/&gt;      Holy Moly Me oh My your the apple of my eye&lt;br/&gt;      Girl aint never loved one like you&lt;br/&gt;      Man o Man your my best friend I scream it to the nothingness&lt;br/&gt;      that we got everything we need&lt;br/&gt;      Hot and Heavy pumpkin pie&lt;br/&gt;      Chocolate candy Jesus Christ&lt;br/&gt;      Aint nothin please me more than you&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align='center'&gt;      &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align='center'&gt;(Chorus)&lt;br/&gt;        Home, Let me come Home&lt;br/&gt;        Home is Whenever Im with you&lt;br/&gt;        Home, yes I am Home &lt;br/&gt;        Home is wherever Im with you&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align='center'&gt;       &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align='center'&gt;Lalalala Take me Home&lt;br/&gt;        Mama Im Coming Home&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align='center'&gt;      &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align='center'&gt;I follow you into the park, thru the jungle thru the dark&lt;br/&gt;        Girl aint never loved one like you&lt;br/&gt;        Moats and boats and Waterfalls, Alleyways and payphone calls&lt;br/&gt;        I been everywhere with you&lt;br/&gt;        Laugh until we think we'll die, barefoot on a summer night&lt;br/&gt;        never could be sweeter than with you&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align='center'&gt;      &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align='center'&gt;like its only you and me jade/ebes your somethin to see&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align='center'&gt;      &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align='center'&gt;(Chorus)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align='center'&gt;      &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align='center'&gt;Lalalala take me home&lt;br/&gt;        Mama Im Comin Home&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align='center'&gt;       &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align='center'&gt;Jade, you remember that night you fell outa my window?&lt;br/&gt;        ya you came jumpin out after me&lt;br/&gt;        well, you were bleedin all over the place and I covered your ass with your dress and we went off to the hospital, you remember that?&lt;br/&gt;        ya&lt;br/&gt;        well there's somethin I never told you bout that night&lt;br/&gt;        what didnt you tell me?&lt;br/&gt;        well, while you were sitting in the back seat smokin a  cigarrette you thought was gonna be your last, I was fallin deep, deep in love with you, and I never told you till just now!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align='center'&gt;      &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align='center'&gt;(Chorus)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align='center'&gt;      &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align='center'&gt;Home, let me come home, home is wherever Im with you&lt;br/&gt;        Home, yes I am Home home is whenever Im with you!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div align='center'&gt;      &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align='center'&gt;Alabama Arkansas I do love my Ma and Pa&lt;br/&gt;        Yes Home, yes ward!  home is whenever Im with you!&lt;br/&gt;      Home is whenever Im with you.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align='center'&gt;- Edward Sharpe &amp;amp; The Magnetic Zeros&lt;br/&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class='zemanta-pixie'&gt;&lt;img src='http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=9c0ac842-e5f0-8c69-ab39-73ec643c90f4' alt='' class='zemanta-pixie-img'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-8052694333967684341?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/8052694333967684341/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/04/home.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/8052694333967684341'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/8052694333967684341'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/04/home.html' title='Home'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-1682171971587476716</id><published>2010-04-27T21:53:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-27T21:53:33.821+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Roskilde'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bank holiday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sweden'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tina'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>On the road together</title><content type='html'>Second week of being Byron's personal driver. Every morning and evening we get to know each other a little more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday morning I didn't say many words. I was too tired, the tiredness held my tongue in a steady grip. Luckily, Byron was on the phone more than half the journey dealing with warehouse and office people not being able to get into the building. Uh oh. But before we arrived it had been solved, with Adam climbing the fence and getting in through the back door. And not back door as in the sex metaphor. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Three more days till the very much longed bank holiday weekend is here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weekend just gone with Tina was great. Fantastic. It feels good to have another Älmhult soul here. And she's coming with us to Roskilde. And she will be my travelling companion to Sweden before Roskilde, and then from Älmhult to Roskilde. And then from Roskilde to the UK. And she's coming to the midsummer celebration at my brother's place too. This is starting to look good. I mean real good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Less than 2 months. Countdown has indeed started.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-1682171971587476716?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/1682171971587476716/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/04/on-road-together.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/1682171971587476716'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/1682171971587476716'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/04/on-road-together.html' title='On the road together'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-426811747465242578</id><published>2010-04-22T15:33:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-22T15:50:55.467+01:00</updated><title type='text'>A shit covered squirrel</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;So the drama friend threw shit on the fan and texted me. She's been throwing shit on the fan for two weeks apparently, so not a one time thing. Hurra, hurra. But the shit haven't hit her boyfriend yet. Or no, it has. But it's still invisible. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;I'm guessing she now wants advice on what to do. I will have to try hard to not raise my voice and ask how fucking stupid she is and why she can't go through life without drama. If it's not there "naturally", she needs to create it. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;So... I managed to get five days of peace and quiet. But almost two months without her drama. It was a good run. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class='zemanta-pixie'&gt;&lt;img src='http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=f5fe8bac-d04a-8c28-a0fb-87e0d5142a20' alt='' class='zemanta-pixie-img'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-426811747465242578?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/426811747465242578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/04/shit-covered-squirrel.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/426811747465242578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/426811747465242578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/04/shit-covered-squirrel.html' title='A shit covered squirrel'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-949360600390122976</id><published>2010-04-21T12:38:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-21T12:55:40.986+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Bitten by inspiration</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;Whilst trying to crawl under my skin to seek warmth I was bitten by the inspiration bug. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;I wanted to do everything, all at once. Now. Yesterday. Stick two fingers in the air and concentrate on ME. What I want to do. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Stop motion. Photography. Pens and paper. Glue and scissors. Give me all that NOW. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;But my problem is time. It's constantly sliding through my fingers. Seconds, minutes and hours, they are slippery suckers. &lt;br/&gt;I'm sure there's a way around it. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Still thinking I'm not that bothered, but something is causing me to wake up several times during the night. It's annoying. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;The devil closed a door and knocked down a wall. And I think I need to get used to all that space now being available, even though things are still in a bit of a grey zone, but I'm trying my best to make it black and white. Because sometimes it would be nice if things were black and white. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;And I've had enough of grey zones. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;So there. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class='zemanta-pixie'&gt;&lt;img src='http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=eb5c4fb2-4950-8e30-be69-7932edad73bd' alt='' class='zemanta-pixie-img'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-949360600390122976?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/949360600390122976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/04/bitten-by-inspiration.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/949360600390122976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/949360600390122976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/04/bitten-by-inspiration.html' title='Bitten by inspiration'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-6863357265320280158</id><published>2010-04-20T19:57:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-20T19:57:26.552+01:00</updated><title type='text'>I... don't know</title><content type='html'>Towards the end of last week I finally was allowed on the path of knowledge. I was allowed into the loop. And it was what I expected, and I sent back an unexpected reply. But shame on you for assuming things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And a decision about time out, fine by me, I need some peace and quiet. Expecting it to be a while. And not to get a X sent Sunday night at 11pm. Nothing more after that. So what the hell man?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo and anyhow, I might be getting bored with it. I don't seem to be very bothered, so why keep on truckin'? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough of that, waste of keyboard pressing. Friday. Friday was fun. Fun. Fun. Fun. Fun. Fun to see amazing Andrew and then the wonderful Malvin and Martin. They are the sunshine of my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day after I paid for those drinks in near sickness, and tiredness that had it's own wardrobe. I tried to catch up on sleep before going to Maidenhead. I didn't succeed to a satisfactory level. So I was tired for most of the evening, and sober. And being sober when everyone else are drunk works fine until they get more drunk and loud and talk about weird things. So I left before midnight, before my eyes would risk closing on the way home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sinday greeted me with blue sky and sunshine and I felt the most energetic I'd had all week. The day needed to be spent outside! Come on people! I dragged Mie and Kim out of their lazy states and we took the game Risk and refreshments with us, found an amazing spot in the park and sat in the sunshine, conquering country by country. Kim took over the whole world eventually, but it was fun. My Risk cherry was popped.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rest of the Sinday was thai take away and watching Moon. Great film.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now. A new week. For a Tuesday, it's been a really good day. No over time, no exhausted state, peace and quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But Ida is missing on Skype. It's Tuesday. Skypedate. Where are you?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-6863357265320280158?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/6863357265320280158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-dont-know.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/6863357265320280158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/6863357265320280158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/04/i-dont-know.html' title='I... don&apos;t know'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-7523478037662076573</id><published>2010-04-13T11:33:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-13T11:50:30.009+01:00</updated><title type='text'>Late night disappointment</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;I don't like having worries thrown my way, asking for support and advice, make myself available to have a late text saying problem solved. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;It leaves me with the worry about what was wrong, but not finding out what it was. It makes disappointed, and leaves me feeling stupid for making sure I was available to give support and listen. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Dash. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;And it disrupted my sleep. I was trying to count sheep, but the sheep was stuck in thought traffic. Solid. All lanes. I tried music. Tried clearing the traffic, but somewhere in all the trying I must have fallen asleep, because I woke up, neck and back aching because I had decided to try and fall asleep on my stomach (it usually works, if I fall asleep before it begins to be uncomfortable). &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;It's Tuesday. No-fucking-way-yes-way-no-way Tuesday. And it's no-brainer music on Spotify and it's shutting the world out with headphones. Only Adam has managed to make me smile so far today. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Can't wait to go home. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class='zemanta-pixie'&gt;&lt;img src='http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=ebf0b765-5a95-8dcd-882b-6ee8d5f18078' alt='' class='zemanta-pixie-img'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-7523478037662076573?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/7523478037662076573/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/04/late-night-disappointment.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/7523478037662076573'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/7523478037662076573'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/04/late-night-disappointment.html' title='Late night disappointment'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-557447651425083174</id><published>2010-04-11T21:48:00.000+01:00</published><updated>2010-04-11T21:48:17.816+01:00</updated><title type='text'>The return of the... Jedhi</title><content type='html'>Three visits to Gatwick in as many weeks. First week picking up loved ones, second week; parking the car to go away with Sarah, third week; 28 hours in Copenhagen with the chef.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Guernsey was wonderful. Beautiful views, great atmosphere, great company, lots of walking, laughing, experiencing a German underground hospital and possibly the smallest chapel in the world, made of broken pieces of porcelain. I'm not a church/chapel fan, but this was something else. A promise made to return to this island, when it's summer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Copenhagen. Which has been my one step away from home when travelling back for visits. But this time I was taking the train towards Copenhagen instead of over the bridge to Sweden. And my heart wanted to go on the train homehome if only so to be there for one hour. But the 28 hours spent there was still amazing. Amazing gig, and all the band members signed our tickets afterwards, and we made them feel mighty surprised and proud when we told them we had come all the way from London to see them. That was our sole purpose, the sightseeing just a bonus.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A bit tired now. Quite an early crawl out of bed. Moved to the sofa for crap telly and coffee. Eventually the sunshine and blue sky drew me outside. For a drink by the lock, with a company in thoughts. And here I am, expecting to see a new freak out happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Time will tell.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-557447651425083174?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/557447651425083174/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/04/return-of-jedhi.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/557447651425083174'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/557447651425083174'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/04/return-of-jedhi.html' title='The return of the... Jedhi'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-2147957127731517416</id><published>2010-03-24T08:04:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-03-24T08:21:14.444Z</updated><title type='text'>1 day to go</title><content type='html'>&lt;div xmlns='http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml'&gt;Shobben is coming here tomorrow. Finally. My soul is feeling poorly and needs a few days of bliss. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Need a spring cleaning too. Remove the winter dust from the corners. New curtains. New pictures on the walls. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Spring is getting closer. With it's green dresses, warm sunshine hugs, makes my heart whisper. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;I hope to sit in the sunshine this weekend with Shobben and tell secrets and share the joys and aches. &lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;Tomorrow.&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;br/&gt;&lt;div class='zemanta-pixie'&gt;&lt;img src='http://img.zemanta.com/pixy.gif?x-id=cdf42afe-5a1b-89cd-9c8d-57ba2625e63b' alt='' class='zemanta-pixie-img'/&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-2147957127731517416?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/2147957127731517416/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/03/1-day-to-go.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2147957127731517416'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2147957127731517416'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/03/1-day-to-go.html' title='1 day to go'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-2181463568632096966</id><published>2010-03-17T13:07:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-03-17T13:07:29.376Z</updated><title type='text'>Glass</title><content type='html'>My heart of glass&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;has a chip in it &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;caused by reckless behaviour&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;caused by trust&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;caused by the wish for love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;caused by blindness. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The chip was repaired,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;could barely be seen any longer, but became a weak spot&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;on a heart that tried to be strong. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fine cracks are appearing. Stretching out from the epi centre.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all I do is watch it happen.&amp;nbsp;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-2181463568632096966?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/2181463568632096966/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/03/glass.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2181463568632096966'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2181463568632096966'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/03/glass.html' title='Glass'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-5503390537974078257</id><published>2010-03-03T11:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-03-03T11:28:12.757Z</updated><title type='text'>731 days</title><content type='html'>Yesterday it was 730 days since I came over to the UK. 24 months, 2 years. In a way it feels like it's been 4 years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't think I'd be here this long, a year at most. Then things changed. For the better. But it's missing friends and family back home that sometimes makes me think about moving back. Missing them is like a constant pain in my heart. Sometimes I don't feel it, and then there are times when I miss them so much it feels like my heart will break. But I think about them pretty much every day. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it kind of pulls me down when I think that that's how it will be, if not forever, then for a very long time&lt;br /&gt;ahead. But... I don't feel that I have anything to move back to, apart from shorten the distance to my loved&lt;br /&gt;ones. But they're also spread out in 3 different towns. And very busy living their lives, so I don't think I would&lt;br /&gt;actually get any closer, only physically, but would I see them that much more often?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's just that... sometimes I wish I could get in a car and drive to lillebror, Shobben, Ida, Julle, Emma, dad, Shila when that overwhelming feeling of missing them washes over me. Sooth the itch. Ease the pain with a pain killer called meet-up.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Simone said I would move back when I had a man and kids. I can see that. It seems very likely. She also said, I/we would move back to the UK after a few years. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my 703rd day was a mix of everything, wishes of moving back, wishes of continuing to settle down here. I wish I could have the best of both worlds. The grass to be just as green on one side as the other. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But that's not life. And I'm going to stop right now, before the big philosopher completely takes over and starts thinking about those BIG questions and everything gets a little bit too jazzy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm on my 731st day and it feels good to be here. Just need to do a spring clean of my winter tired soul. Chase the dust bunnies from the corners. Open the windows. Pull the blinds up. Maybe some new paint.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-5503390537974078257?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/5503390537974078257/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/03/731-days.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/5503390537974078257'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/5503390537974078257'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/03/731-days.html' title='731 days'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-6751420983608490220</id><published>2010-02-24T11:25:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-02-24T11:25:07.904Z</updated><title type='text'>Buzzing</title><content type='html'>That buzzing feeling inside. I can feel it in my arms, all the way to my finger tips. I can feel it in my legs, all the way to my toes. It makes it feel like my heart is beating faster. I don't know if it actually is. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the outside, nothing. Nothing showing what's going on on the inside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's that buzz that makes me wish I could get up from my chair and just run. Run. Run until my lungs are hurting, my legs are cramping and I'm drenched in sweat. Maybe then will the buzzing stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The buzzing that makes me think if I just relaxed I would snap. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I could, I would get on a plane and head home home for a few days. To the people who have known me for more than 2 years, the people who knew me before so many things happened. To the people who always make me feel safe. To the people where no games exists. Where I can see the familiar things, breathe in the familiar air, smell the familiar smells. Where I don't have to try so hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just want to rest. I'm so tired. Just a few minutes rest. Or a few hours. Where it's quiet.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-6751420983608490220?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/6751420983608490220/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/02/buzzing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/6751420983608490220'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/6751420983608490220'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/02/buzzing.html' title='Buzzing'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-2841206306852193110</id><published>2010-02-23T08:42:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-02-23T08:42:05.834Z</updated><title type='text'>Man overboard / Man överbord</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;The years have gone &lt;br /&gt;they lie like wrecks on the bottom &lt;br /&gt;Once you left it all &lt;br /&gt;you were young, you were salt &lt;br /&gt;it was a one-way trip to the top &lt;br /&gt;You turned words into gold &lt;br /&gt;now they sink like stones in the water &lt;br /&gt;The wheels turned round &lt;br /&gt;you were everyone's king &lt;br /&gt;to know you was a feather in the cap &lt;br /&gt;Now the game's serious and dark &lt;br /&gt;and you stub your cigarette out &lt;br /&gt;you light another, it's okay &lt;br /&gt;now it's all much better &lt;br /&gt;She came like a queen &lt;br /&gt;she invited you to her table &lt;br /&gt;she passed you the poison &lt;br /&gt;and you could never get enough &lt;br /&gt;Man overboard &lt;br /&gt;Man overboard&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;I remember you one morning &lt;br /&gt;we took Västerbron over toward Söder &lt;br /&gt;And then we parted &lt;br /&gt;you said thanks and I'm sorry &lt;br /&gt;but you're hardly the man that I need &lt;br /&gt;And I saw you one night in a bar &lt;br /&gt;with your new story &lt;br /&gt;It was an old acquaintance &lt;br /&gt;and I hated everything &lt;br /&gt;your laugh and your bleached-blond halo &lt;br /&gt;I heard that he's left you &lt;br /&gt;for someone a few years younger &lt;br /&gt;how do you feel now, heart of mine &lt;br /&gt;is everything a little heavier &lt;br /&gt;Memories hunt you from bar to bar &lt;br /&gt;and when the bouncer carries you out &lt;br /&gt;he shouts: &lt;br /&gt;Man overboard &lt;br /&gt;Man overboard &lt;br /&gt;Man overboard&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;And you walk like a dead man&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Through a dead city&lt;br /&gt;And you sleep among the ruins &lt;br /&gt;It's all you have &lt;br /&gt;Even the clocks are running backward &lt;br /&gt;And you get no reply &lt;br /&gt;Just the message she wrote &lt;br /&gt;A key, a few words &lt;br /&gt;Man overboard &lt;br /&gt;Man overboard &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;I've driven to a house by the sea &lt;br /&gt;and I've closed the gate &lt;br /&gt;People talk so much &lt;br /&gt;someone pays, someone thinks &lt;br /&gt;here it all blows away in the wind &lt;br /&gt;There are moments when I've wished &lt;br /&gt;that everything would be over &lt;br /&gt;When my heart stands still and the words fail &lt;br /&gt;it hurts, even though nothing's bleeding &lt;br /&gt;Once everything was free &lt;br /&gt;now it's high time for someone to pay &lt;br /&gt;The seconds are ticking &lt;br /&gt;you already hear how &lt;br /&gt;they start to defame you &lt;br /&gt;For those such as us &lt;br /&gt;there's neither peace or quiet &lt;br /&gt;we are pieces in a game &lt;br /&gt;that's called: &lt;br /&gt;Man overboard &lt;br /&gt;Man overboard&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Eldkvarn&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;----------------------------------------&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Åren har gått &lt;br /&gt;dom ligger som vrak på botten &lt;br /&gt;En gång lämna du allt &lt;br /&gt;du var ung, du var salt &lt;br /&gt;det var en enkel resa mot toppen &lt;br /&gt;Du gjorde orden till guld &lt;br /&gt;nu sjunker dom som stenar i vatten &lt;br /&gt;Hjulen snurrade runt &lt;br /&gt;du var allas kung &lt;br /&gt;att känna dig var en fjäder i hatten &lt;br /&gt;Nu är leken allvar och svart &lt;br /&gt;och du fimpar cigaretten &lt;br /&gt;du tänder en till, det är rätt &lt;br /&gt;nu är allt mycket bättre &lt;br /&gt;Hon kom som en drottning &lt;br /&gt;hon bjöd dig till sitt bord &lt;br /&gt;hon räckte dig giftet &lt;br /&gt;och du kunde aldrig få nog &lt;br /&gt;Man över bord &lt;br /&gt;Man över bord&amp;nbsp;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Jag minns dig en morgon &lt;br /&gt;vi gick Västerbron över mot söder &lt;br /&gt;Sen skildes vi åt &lt;br /&gt;du sa tack och förlåt &lt;br /&gt;men du är knappast den man jag behöver &lt;br /&gt;Och jag såg dig en kväll i en bar &lt;br /&gt;med din nya historia &lt;br /&gt;Det var en gammal bekant &lt;br /&gt;och jag hatade allt &lt;br /&gt;ditt skratt och din blonderade gloria &lt;br /&gt;Jag hörde att han lämnat dig &lt;br /&gt;för nån som var några år yngre &lt;br /&gt;hur känner du dig nu, hjärtat mitt &lt;br /&gt;är allt lite tyngre &lt;br /&gt;Minnena jagar dig från krog till krog &lt;br /&gt;och när vakten bär ut dig &lt;br /&gt;ropar han: &lt;br /&gt;Man över bord &lt;br /&gt;Man över bord &lt;br /&gt;Man över bord&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Och du går som en död man &lt;br /&gt;Genom dödens stad &lt;br /&gt;Och du sover bland ruinerna &lt;br /&gt;Det är allt du har &lt;br /&gt;Till och med klockarna går baklänges &lt;br /&gt;Och du får inget svar &lt;br /&gt;Bara lappen hon skrev &lt;br /&gt;En nyckel, några ord &lt;br /&gt;Man över bord &lt;br /&gt;Man över bord &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;Jag har åkt till ett hus vid havet &lt;br /&gt;och jag har stängt grinden &lt;br /&gt;Folk pratar så mycket &lt;br /&gt;nån betalar, nån tycker &lt;br /&gt;här blåser allt bort med vinden &lt;br /&gt;Det finns stunder när jag önskat &lt;br /&gt;att allting skulle va över &lt;br /&gt;När hjärtat står still och orden sviker &lt;br /&gt;det gör ont, fast ingenting blöder &lt;br /&gt;En gång var allt gratis &lt;br /&gt;nu är det hög tid för nån att betala &lt;br /&gt;Sekunderna tickar &lt;br /&gt;du hör redan hur &lt;br /&gt;dom börjar förtala dig &lt;br /&gt;För såna som oss &lt;br /&gt;finns varken lugn eller ro &lt;br /&gt;vi är brickor i ett spel &lt;br /&gt;det kallas för: &lt;br /&gt;Man över bord &lt;br /&gt;Man över bord&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;- Eldkvarn &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: black;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-2841206306852193110?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/2841206306852193110/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/02/man-overboard-man-overbord.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2841206306852193110'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2841206306852193110'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/02/man-overboard-man-overbord.html' title='Man overboard / Man överbord'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-106174617861500616</id><published>2010-02-22T20:54:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-02-22T20:54:03.125Z</updated><title type='text'>Freelove</title><content type='html'>If you've been hiding from love&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you've been hiding from love&lt;br /&gt;I can understand where you're coming from&lt;br /&gt;I can understand where you're coming from&lt;br /&gt;If you've suffered enough&lt;br /&gt;If you've suffered enough&lt;br /&gt;I can understand what you're thinking of&lt;br /&gt;I can see the pain that you're frightened of&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm only here&lt;br /&gt;To bring you freelove&lt;br /&gt;Let's make it clear&lt;br /&gt;That this is freelove&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No hidden catch&lt;br /&gt;No strings attached&lt;br /&gt;Just freelove&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No hidden catch&lt;br /&gt;No strings attached&lt;br /&gt;Just freelove&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been running like you&lt;br /&gt;I've been running like you&lt;br /&gt;Now you understand why I'm running scared&lt;br /&gt;Now you understand why I'm running scared&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been searching for truth&lt;br /&gt;I've been searching for truth&lt;br /&gt;And I haven't been getting anywhere&lt;br /&gt;No I haven't been getting anywhere&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I'm only here&lt;br /&gt;To bring you freelove&lt;br /&gt;Let's make it clear&lt;br /&gt;That this is freelove&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No hidden catch&lt;br /&gt;No strings attached&lt;br /&gt;Just freelove&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No hidden catch&lt;br /&gt;No strings attached&lt;br /&gt;Just freelove&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey girl&lt;br /&gt;You've got to take this moment&lt;br /&gt;Then let it slip away&lt;br /&gt;Let go of complicated feelings&lt;br /&gt;Then there's no price to pay&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've been running from love&lt;br /&gt;We've been running from love&lt;br /&gt;And we don't know what we're doing here&lt;br /&gt;No we don't know what we're doing here&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We're only here&lt;br /&gt;Sharing our freelove&lt;br /&gt;Let's make it clear&lt;br /&gt;That this is freelove&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No hidden catch&lt;br /&gt;No strings attached&lt;br /&gt;Just freelove&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No hidden catch&lt;br /&gt;No strings attached&lt;br /&gt;Just freelove &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- Depeche Mode&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-106174617861500616?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/106174617861500616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/02/freelove.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/106174617861500616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/106174617861500616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/02/freelove.html' title='Freelove'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-3162555638404899440</id><published>2010-02-18T16:02:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-02-18T16:02:43.991Z</updated><title type='text'>Something</title><content type='html'>This nothing is something. I'm beginning to realise that. But we don't talk about it. It's just there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like an elephant in the room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today's surprise in music is me listening to Håkan Hellström, I've rediscovered him I think. Didn't fancy him much a few years ago. Now I'm thinking... This shit ain't too bad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is a tune - &lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NOQVH4vwIUU"&gt;Kom Igen Lena&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And a damn catchy one&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-3162555638404899440?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/3162555638404899440/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/02/something.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/3162555638404899440'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/3162555638404899440'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/02/something.html' title='Something'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-8340255389239645271</id><published>2010-02-17T11:41:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-02-17T11:41:37.784Z</updated><title type='text'>Me. Me. Me. Me.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;So yesterday was Tuesday. Every week I dread that  day. Thinking, knowing, preparing myself for a shitty day.  &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;But this Tuesday, came with a  little something that left a good feeling. From yesterday and a week on, I will  have the flat to myself. And that feels really  good. In fact, it makes me want to say "Halleluja". But in a non-religious way.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;Of course. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;I have a few weird small cuts on my  fingers from Saturday's rumpus.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;The day got a hell of a lot better around lunch time, when I went on the Roskilde site, to see what new band they've announced to headline the festival.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;It said "Them Crooked Vultures". Inside me a scream built up, but being in the office, it wasn't the right place to start shouting and jumping around. My eyes welled up, adrenaline was rushing through my body and all I could think of was to tell Anna. Tell Anna! TELL ANNA! And then tell the chef.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;Amazing.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 10pt;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;That was the silver lining of yesterday. The grey cloud trying to overshadow the silver lining was my laptop. It needs to be wiped clean of all data, all that data that somewhere has a malware program hidden in it.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;It needs to be wiped beyond  recognition. So wiped, not even it's mom would be able to identify it. Or the  dentist. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;I was thinking of going geeky and  install Ubuntu instead. Away with nasty Windows and go yay with open source. That's pretty hardcode geeky. For me. I don't mind it, but it will require a little more effort from me. And why not? Might as well pick up a few new tricks, because I don't have the money to buy a new one right now.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;And Sweden beat Great Britain in the first curling match. And later on the ladies of Sweden beat Denmark in their first curling match.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 10pt;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;And Sweden won a second gold.&amp;nbsp;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;But my detox went out the window. I blame the chef for that. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: x-small;"&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-GB" style="font-family: Tahoma; font-size: 10pt;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-8340255389239645271?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/8340255389239645271/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/02/me-me-me-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/8340255389239645271'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/8340255389239645271'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/02/me-me-me-me.html' title='Me. Me. Me. Me.'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-7671588018398572824</id><published>2010-02-11T11:37:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-02-11T11:37:19.838Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the wannadies'/><title type='text'>Hit</title><content type='html'>Monday's no fun, Tuesday's the same&lt;br /&gt;Wedensdays might go out, at least something&lt;br /&gt;Thursday's the day after Wednesday&lt;br /&gt;Firdays I go out, at least something&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hit, who's calling this a&lt;br /&gt;hit, well I deserve a&lt;br /&gt;hit, calling this a&lt;br /&gt;hit, I don't deserve it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;mon...mon - day's...day's - no...no - fun...fun&lt;br /&gt;tues...tues - day's...day's - a...a - waste...waste&lt;br /&gt;wedne...wedne - day's...day's - I...I - go...go - out...yeah?&lt;br /&gt;oh nothing&lt;br /&gt;Thursday's headache, and I deserve it&lt;br /&gt;Friday's I go out, at least something&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hit, who's calling this a&lt;br /&gt;hit, well I deserve a&lt;br /&gt;hit, calling this a&lt;br /&gt;hit, I don't deserve it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- The Wannadies&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-7671588018398572824?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/7671588018398572824/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/02/hit.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/7671588018398572824'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/7671588018398572824'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/02/hit.html' title='Hit'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-4091173486237079842</id><published>2010-02-09T11:20:00.002Z</published><updated>2010-02-09T11:20:14.327Z</updated><title type='text'>Tuesday</title><content type='html'>ARGH!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-4091173486237079842?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/4091173486237079842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/02/tuesday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/4091173486237079842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/4091173486237079842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/02/tuesday.html' title='Tuesday'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-2253845138677293367</id><published>2010-02-03T10:26:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-02-03T10:26:40.631Z</updated><title type='text'>Where are my crayons?</title><content type='html'>The text of the day (perhaps even of the week) arrived in my inbox this morning&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8:36am&lt;br /&gt;When a dog is hanging his head out a moving car window what exactly is he thinking? What will happen tomoz? Is this all there is? Course not, he is thinking about the wind in his hair. Choose life, be the dog ;) have a lovely wed x&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And from yesterday, my favourite was&lt;br /&gt;9:50pm&lt;br /&gt;If i could use facebook, i would put the link to the Yes website on your wall and say "should we try it?"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-2253845138677293367?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/2253845138677293367/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/02/where-are-my-crayons.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2253845138677293367'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2253845138677293367'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/02/where-are-my-crayons.html' title='Where are my crayons?'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-5082312990957856746</id><published>2010-02-01T08:52:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-02-01T08:52:44.675Z</updated><title type='text'>I have faith in February</title><content type='html'>It's a new week and also a new month. 1st of February 2010. The first February of the new decade.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ignoring the fact in all cynism that this month holds the big commercial love day, I have faith in February. January is the month that's still in the last year, with expectations for the new year, beginnings of New Years resolutions and sometimes ending them before they properly began taking an effect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;January was... turbulent. It started well good in Jamaica, but the two weeks following the trip was filled with a little joy (at least the first few days after the return to the UK), anger, jet lag, feelings of being fed up, confusion and... I think that was it. I sure had had enough when the hours ticked it's way towards 31 January.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And in all that new month, new beginnings, new ends spirit I will unload what's on my mind, even though it might not be according to any rules made up by surely an idiot a long time ago, I will make clear what I want and not caring about the effect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the end to January 2010 was much better than the middle of it. Saturday contained a vodka fuelled boogie in Richmond with Mie and Tina. Lot's of dance moves, cocktails, shots, weird men and guards watching these men, a burger and chips before bed, sleep, no hangover, TV film, then 500 Days of Summer, Thai food, Lars and the real girl, being Sunday lazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We decided and planned the theme for the next house party. The theme is wickedly brilliant and we're so proud of it. But it's still a good month and a half before it takes place, so hush hush and wait and see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-5082312990957856746?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/5082312990957856746/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-have-faith-in-february.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/5082312990957856746'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/5082312990957856746'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-have-faith-in-february.html' title='I have faith in February'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-1229821207957869616</id><published>2010-01-22T07:57:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-01-22T07:57:08.244Z</updated><title type='text'>The hunter made me do it</title><content type='html'>I've felt hunted all week. Or the bigger part of it. Maybe Monday was hunt free. But it certainly started on Tuesday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It escalated on Wednesday night, on MSN Messenger. Bombarded with questions that I didn't want to have to remember the answer for. I told a white lie and logged off, I had had enough. That caused three emails being sent around midnight. Both to my gmail AND my work email. WTF? Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't bother until yesterday afternoon to open them, and I couldn't believe what I was reading and that there were questions I had already answered. I didn't reply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around midnight last night, three new emails. Again, sent both to my gmail AND work email. WHY?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Replied, short tone, copying his questions, writing my replies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then said I wouldn't be checking my emails over the weekend and won't be available for his harassment on Monday night either. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When he's done the address change (which he should have done a year ago at least), I'm tempted to tell him to fuck off and leave me alone forever. No good will come out of having him around.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But hopefully from now on and over the weekend, this hunted animal will get some peace and quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IKEA tonight, it's as close as I can get to home here. And I need the feeling of looking at things that are familiar.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-1229821207957869616?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/1229821207957869616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/01/hunter-made-me-do-it.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/1229821207957869616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/1229821207957869616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/01/hunter-made-me-do-it.html' title='The hunter made me do it'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-3672088125964708816</id><published>2010-01-21T07:30:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-01-21T07:30:51.131Z</updated><title type='text'>Something</title><content type='html'>changed over the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And on Tuesday.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-3672088125964708816?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/3672088125964708816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/01/something.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/3672088125964708816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/3672088125964708816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/01/something.html' title='Something'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-5229556532435655389</id><published>2010-01-20T08:28:00.000Z</published><updated>2010-01-20T08:28:57.169Z</updated><title type='text'>The gloves are off</title><content type='html'>So I stopped being nice. Because the person in question don't deserve me being nice. So I just replied to that person's email, and said a few things I had on my mind. It felt good, and I actually hope that that person will get angry with me for it. Seeking conflict like a prostitute seeking customers on a Tuesday night, when the stars are out and it's a nice evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New Years happened, it was the best celebration of the shifting of months, which in the December/January shift, means shifting of years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jamaica happened, it was a week of doing NOTHING. Except getting drinks from the bar, food from the restaurant, reading, enjoying being with family. The only difficult questions were of the type&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Which drink should I order now?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to go back to Jamaica, but not on an all-inclusive holiday. It was irie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But oh man, was there a lot of North Americans, and they are exhausting. Loud and obnoxious and... you know, just being themselves... I wonder if I've become English enough to be all annoyed with the American accent, it sounds horrible. And because they're so loud, you can't escape it. Not irie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo, 2010 is here, and it started with changes. Stay tuned for the winds of change, whistling like the Scorpions, put your seat belt on so you don't end up on the bonnet with fractures and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;cha cha cha&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-5229556532435655389?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/5229556532435655389/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/01/gloves-are-off.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/5229556532435655389'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/5229556532435655389'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2010/01/gloves-are-off.html' title='The gloves are off'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-2605188370097097686</id><published>2009-12-30T23:01:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-30T23:01:46.540Z</updated><title type='text'>Stalker.com</title><content type='html'>So I can be found on match.com. No big deal. I've met a few nice people and one weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started emailing with a guy, in his early thirties. I didn't log on for a few days, he had sent two emails by the time I logged on again, I didn't reply, that same day he sent a third one. I logged on a few days later, didn't reply (because it was getting creepy), he sent a fourth email. I didn't log on for at least a week, when I did I still wasn't interested in replying so I didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today, I've got a fifth email from him. I think he definitely can be classified as a stalker now. He said I owe him time. I owe him... nothing. I think I might have to block him. If it is possible. Not cock block, email block, find my profile block, whatever block I can find. And then hope universe isn't going to be cruel enough to make sure our paths will cross in reality. Because that wouldn't be fair.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enough of stalkers. New Years Eve tomorrow. Celebrated with my three favourite London guys.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy New Year to you all. Make lots of new year resolutions and then break them before you knew what hit you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-2605188370097097686?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/2605188370097097686/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/12/stalkercom.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2605188370097097686'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2605188370097097686'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/12/stalkercom.html' title='Stalker.com'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-6635112101008545919</id><published>2009-12-24T10:44:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-12-24T10:46:30.113Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Möckelsnäs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Christmas'/><title type='text'>Merry Christmas</title><content type='html'>It's Christmas Eve, when the Swedes celebrate. I'm at work, 2.5 hours to go before I'll get into the festive spirit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Texting family and friends back home, with a bit of heartache for not being there this year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But next year. If my brothers plans of having a big christmas party in this &lt;span id="goog_1261649986652"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span id="goog_1261649986653"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;big big house,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://likeisaidyes.com/pics/projects/10_ekudden.jpg.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="164" src="http://likeisaidyes.com/pics/projects/10_ekudden.jpg.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will book time off and spend all christmas days in &lt;a href="http://maps.google.se/maps?f=q&amp;amp;source=s_q&amp;amp;hl=sv&amp;amp;geocode=&amp;amp;q=ekudden,+m%C3%B6ckelsn%C3%A4s,+n%C3%A4ra+%C3%A4lmhult&amp;amp;sll=56.613411,14.156534&amp;amp;sspn=0.271296,0.617294&amp;amp;ie=UTF8&amp;amp;hq=ekudden,+m%C3%B6ckelsn%C3%A4s,&amp;amp;hnear=%C3%84lmhult&amp;amp;ll=56.604328,14.150015&amp;amp;spn=0.002046,0.004823&amp;amp;t=h&amp;amp;z=18"&gt;Möckelsnäs&lt;/a&gt;, Älmhult, Sweden. One of the most beautiful places in the world.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-6635112101008545919?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/6635112101008545919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/12/merry-christmas.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/6635112101008545919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/6635112101008545919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/12/merry-christmas.html' title='Merry Christmas'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-6809801527053290466</id><published>2009-12-22T16:25:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-22T16:25:01.431Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='driving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='lexxie'/><title type='text'>7 hours lost</title><content type='html'>I'm trying really hard to not think about how I lost 7 hours of my life to traffic queues last night. Trying to go from Farnborough to Maidenhead. A journey that normally takes 40 minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's nothing normal about it taking 7 hours instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I finally parked outside my friends house, I couldn't believe I was actually at my destination. Or that I was going to be able to step out of my car that had felt more like an enclosed space than a freedom giver for the past 3 hours.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shattered is not the right word. Not knackered either. But try apathy, tiredness, hunger and no will to live.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am amazed though that Lexxie didn't give up on me. Even though she had a at times paranoid owner that wondered if the engine was on fire or if it was just the bonnet being way too hot? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I was of the praying type I would be praying my ass off for it to not happen again tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now. Food. And red wine. The things I didn't have yesterday&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-6809801527053290466?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/6809801527053290466/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/12/7-hours-lost.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/6809801527053290466'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/6809801527053290466'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/12/7-hours-lost.html' title='7 hours lost'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-6054828410433558725</id><published>2009-12-16T08:26:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-12-16T09:32:02.833Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='The Inbetweeners'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='heating'/><title type='text'>The joy of waking up in the freezer</title><content type='html'>That's what it felt like waking up this morning. At 6.30am. My first thought was&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh my devil, it must be -15 outside"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Place one hand on the radiator, which is cold. I look at my mobile. 6.31am. But why isn't the radiator hot?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ooooohhhh... The boiler isn't working. Again. Great. Do you know what stuff like that does to ones morning temper? I did not feel the love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No hot water in the tap. Knocked on Mie's door, told her the great news which she kind of knew, since the flat was a freezer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tried this and that on the boiler. Nothing. Texted the landlord giving him the splendid news. He said he would come around this morning and have a look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's moments like this that I wish I was living in a country where there are no malfunctioning boilers in each flat. OR. In a country where the temperature doesn't go below 10 degrees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should I invest in a pyjamas?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I got from my Secret Santa at work yesterday? Season 1 &amp;amp; 2 of The Inbetweeners. Best christmas gift so far this year. Who will top that one?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The game is on.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-6054828410433558725?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/6054828410433558725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/12/joy-of-waking-up-in-freezer.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/6054828410433558725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/6054828410433558725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/12/joy-of-waking-up-in-freezer.html' title='The joy of waking up in the freezer'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-7948996577442780912</id><published>2009-12-09T21:01:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-09T21:01:22.743Z</updated><title type='text'>Shobben and Shobben</title><content type='html'>By this time tomorrow my dear friend Erika and her man will have arrived at Gatwick, and we should be back in Teddington.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait. I feel like bouncing around, do a little dance and stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's been in my life for 8 years. She's been there through good times and bad times. 18 months ago she was my big rock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It started as meeting at partys. Then the last festival of the summer 2001, before a lot of things changed, we ran around like mad supergirls, blowing soap bubbles, getting large groups of people to dance Riverdance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The last night of the festival we were lying on our backs outside the tent, looking at the stars, slightly drunk, chatting and before we saw the neighbours big military tent collapse she said something that I haven't forgotten, because it was so honest and something you don't usually admit to think. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If I say something stupid, it's only because I'm jealous". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And when all my friends turned the back on me at the same time the leaves started falling from the trees, she was there, and stayed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She's one of the persons that can drag me to the floor of homesickness. She's one of the persons that can make me think "Fuck all this, I'm too far away, I'm leaving". &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even if months can go by without much contact, talking to or seeing her is like it's only been a few days inbetween, and I know she is always there, and I hope she knows I'm always here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I won't forget when she called me on my birthday last year, the same weekend that she met her man for the first time, and I've been ever so happy for her that she found her Mr.&amp;nbsp; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love you Shobben ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L8pe11tzZZI/SyAP49Hq3dI/AAAAAAAAAAg/XJigYQnBqE0/s1600-h/shobben2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L8pe11tzZZI/SyAP49Hq3dI/AAAAAAAAAAg/XJigYQnBqE0/s320/shobben2.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-7948996577442780912?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/7948996577442780912/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/12/shobben-and-shobben.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/7948996577442780912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/7948996577442780912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/12/shobben-and-shobben.html' title='Shobben and Shobben'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_L8pe11tzZZI/SyAP49Hq3dI/AAAAAAAAAAg/XJigYQnBqE0/s72-c/shobben2.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-7764035657042133826</id><published>2009-12-08T10:43:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-08T10:43:39.881Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Shobben'/><title type='text'>Shobben bliss</title><content type='html'>Two days to go. Thursday evening will be joy, joy, joy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Erika and her man Tobias arrive at Gatwick 6.55pm. My Shobben and her man Hugh. I can't wait to see her again and have almost 4 days with her. 4 days! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;giggity giggity&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-7764035657042133826?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/7764035657042133826/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/12/shobben-bliss.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/7764035657042133826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/7764035657042133826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/12/shobben-bliss.html' title='Shobben bliss'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-3932397434460012454</id><published>2009-12-02T14:37:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-12-02T14:37:35.706Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='IKEA'/><title type='text'>Stop calling me at work grandma!</title><content type='html'>Got in at 11. I had my reasons. They were threefold. I don't want kids for 1, 2, 3 years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too much texting with people. But less drama than yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Rain. Yes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IKEA visit yesterday meant bringing back christmas decorations and food.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up today feeling like I had been out drinking yesterday. The strongest drink I had yesterday was Pepsi at IKEA. Which makes me wonder, was it spiked perhaps? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Work is too quiet today. I have something to do, but I don't want to do it. Like Phoebe:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joey: Pheebs, you wanna help?&lt;br /&gt;Phoebe: Oh, I wish I could, but I don't want to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How often are people that honest and say that? Instead of coming up with something like... "I can't, I need to wash my hair" or "I can't, my dog is on fire".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just saying&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-3932397434460012454?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/3932397434460012454/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/12/stop-calling-me-at-work-grandma.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/3932397434460012454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/3932397434460012454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/12/stop-calling-me-at-work-grandma.html' title='Stop calling me at work grandma!'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-3372469143656179549</id><published>2009-11-28T20:31:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-11-28T20:31:44.555Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hangover'/><title type='text'>Pass it on</title><content type='html'>Even in the late hours of a light hangover amazing things can emerge from my brain.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this one, I'm extra proud of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;,)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's a one eyed person winking.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's a new wink.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Y'all pass it on now, but remember to credit the weird Swede, Karolina.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-3372469143656179549?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/3372469143656179549/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/11/pass-it-on.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/3372469143656179549'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/3372469143656179549'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/11/pass-it-on.html' title='Pass it on'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-1423929881879378002</id><published>2009-11-27T10:45:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-11-27T10:49:09.508Z</updated><title type='text'>A new style, a new me</title><content type='html'>Googled for hair styles. I want a change. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Found this&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/4/5166863_ad7bee50eb.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/4/5166863_ad7bee50eb.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to look like him... Her?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-1423929881879378002?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/1423929881879378002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/11/new-style-new-me.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/1423929881879378002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/1423929881879378002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/11/new-style-new-me.html' title='A new style, a new me'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://farm1.static.flickr.com/4/5166863_ad7bee50eb_t.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-6149186956566136919</id><published>2009-11-03T13:12:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-11-03T13:12:10.752Z</updated><title type='text'>Me - the phone keeper</title><content type='html'>G gave me her mobile to keep at my desk today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When the urge to constantly check for messages is nibbling on your insides. When you want a message to say something important, but still good news, so you don't have to feel your stomach sink in a bottomless lake. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;She asked an hour later if there were any messages. There weren't. Nice words came back. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just checked her phone now. She has one new text message. But I'm not going to tell her quite yet, she needs the quiet time.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meeting N for a drink tonight. Looking forward to a catch up with that sweet lady. Tell her about yesterday's feared row, that never happened. Only a discussion that didn't get out of hand happened. But I think we're still alright.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-6149186956566136919?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/6149186956566136919/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/11/me-phone-keeper.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/6149186956566136919'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/6149186956566136919'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/11/me-phone-keeper.html' title='Me - the phone keeper'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-6407651745358357654</id><published>2009-10-28T09:03:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-10-28T09:12:10.988Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Deftones'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Yeasayer'/><title type='text'>Welcome back</title><content type='html'>I should say to myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What's my excuse? Memory loss. Or the fact that I've got 3 blogs. And just remembered, whilst updating my other ones: Hey, didn't I register one at blogspot?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bollocks I did. How long ago since my last post? 3 months and almost one more month. Sounds like something you say at those meetings where you sit in a circle or rows and there's a podium with a microphone and you start with your name and ... You know what I mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's almost like starting over again. Square one. Year one. Year zero?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like having 3 personalities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm waiting for Deftones' new album. I'm waiting for Yeasayer's new album. Are they here yet?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-6407651745358357654?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/6407651745358357654/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/10/welcome-back.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/6407651745358357654'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/6407651745358357654'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/10/welcome-back.html' title='Welcome back'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-4688951423570209679</id><published>2009-07-07T13:24:00.005+01:00</published><updated>2009-11-27T10:43:13.183Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Amsterdam'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='oasis'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kasabian'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jill'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='London'/><title type='text'>Tired eyes, blue skies</title><content type='html'>Blue skies, tired eyes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Clouds and heavy showers. Last week it was heavy sunshine. 34 centigrades in the office. Not exactly the best temperature to work in. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to Amsterdam last weekend to visit Kasia. My first time there. And I fell in love with that city. Amazingly beautiful with it's canals, narrow streets, old houses and yes of course the coffee shops. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a really fun weekend spent with an almost stranger, but not so much stranger now. We even got an inside joke now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fire. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oasis on Saturday in London with Jill. Kasabian as one supporting act. Can't wait. Haven't seen Jill in a while. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mr M called yesterday. A bit of a surprise. But fun. First date got changed from tomorrow to Thursday. Haven't been on a date in a while, the last guy I dated put me off a bit I think. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here's hoping third time lucky.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-4688951423570209679?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/4688951423570209679/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/07/tired-eyes-blue-skies.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/4688951423570209679'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/4688951423570209679'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/07/tired-eyes-blue-skies.html' title='Tired eyes, blue skies'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-2458466150605902570</id><published>2009-06-12T13:18:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-12T13:22:34.126+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Morrissons'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hayfever'/><title type='text'>Latest from the drug store</title><content type='html'>For some reason (explain if you have that need) my hay fever today has been worse than any other day. My guess is it's because yesterday was warmer and sunnier. So grass pollen decided to do a good job. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... I went over to Morrissons on my lunch break and got me some pills. And eye drops. Let's hope the pills are gonna do their thing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also think it's about time those hayfever pills producers finds an alternative to lactose as the active ingredient or whatever the purpose lactose has. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I better get on with work. 3 hours left...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-2458466150605902570?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/2458466150605902570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/06/latest-from-drug-store.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2458466150605902570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2458466150605902570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/06/latest-from-drug-store.html' title='Latest from the drug store'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-2348866054691775465</id><published>2009-06-10T09:48:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T09:51:03.511+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jamie Oliver'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='terrier'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dating'/><title type='text'>One more thing</title><content type='html'>Forgot to mention that the new guy at work, named Jamie, in the Jamie Oliver team (I love the irony in that sentence) reminds too much of the guy I dated in November last year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And it's not in a good way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I called him a terrier in the end. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Evil I know. But I don't care. I'm evil.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-2348866054691775465?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/2348866054691775465/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/06/one-more-thing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2348866054691775465'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2348866054691775465'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/06/one-more-thing.html' title='One more thing'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-138160739679453797</id><published>2009-06-10T09:41:00.003+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-10T09:48:15.316+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hump Day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Lill-lördag'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Danes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weekend'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='London'/><title type='text'>Mini Saturday</title><content type='html'>Some call it Hump Day, I choose to call it Mini Saturday, which is my translation of the Swedish "Lill-lördag".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Wednesday. Once again we've all made it to mid-week. Congrats on all of us! You should all grab a friend and make plans for a drink after work. I'm following my own advice on that one. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday is almost here. Let's make plans for the weekend. If you haven't since last week or last month already. I'm seeing my sweetheart friend J. She's got war stories to tell me from last weekend. I can't wait to see her and hear them. Then we'll hunt down the Danes in London. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for now, I'm gonna enjoy this Wednesday even though the weather is gray and giving me a headache. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Peas!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-138160739679453797?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/138160739679453797/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/06/mini-saturday.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/138160739679453797'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/138160739679453797'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/06/mini-saturday.html' title='Mini Saturday'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-4076768618078782176</id><published>2009-06-09T12:57:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-06-09T13:02:34.959+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='coffee'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='everyday'/><title type='text'>Somewhere out there...</title><content type='html'>The world of blogs is huge. And I recently started searching for blogs to follow. Haven't gotten very far with that. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean, truly follow. Obsessive-feel-unsatified-if-no-new-posts-each-day follow a blog. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far I've found a few ones that reminds me why I'm not keen on moving back to Stockholm/Sweden. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And my finger hurts. A little bit. I can deal with the pain. It's not taking over my everyday life. But I don't think the nail is gonna fall off. It bent when I tried stopping my very heavy suitcase from tipping forward. I didn't succeed. Feel free to feel sorry for me, cos I think you all know the pain in bending a nail, and not the tip of it, further down. Where you think it couldn't bend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are you still with me? I'm not. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Where's my coffee?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-4076768618078782176?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/4076768618078782176/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/06/somewhere-out-there.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/4076768618078782176'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/4076768618078782176'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/06/somewhere-out-there.html' title='Somewhere out there...'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-2631371661832593725</id><published>2009-05-28T14:44:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T14:50:22.352+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='job'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Depeche Mode'/><title type='text'>Hello again</title><content type='html'>Ages since my last entry. Something came in between, can't remember what right now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But we all go round and round. We wake up, work, eat, socialize, hide, run, walk, sleep. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been very concerned about a fire the past hour. Could see the smoke come up between the trees, it's gone now. For the first time in about two weeks I haven't got anything to do. That's because I finished the little screw one of my applications had caused. No one asked me what I was working on, I'm amazed by that. I think I got away with the screw up without anyone noticing. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've started thinking and saying that I'm gonna look for a new job. It's like the boy who cried wolf. I've said so many times now that I should turn the words into action before I look like a complete idiot. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gave a note with my number on to that good-looking bartender yesterday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Depeche Mode cancelled this Saturdays London gig. It sucks. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I long for the death of this work day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-2631371661832593725?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/2631371661832593725/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/05/hello-again.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2631371661832593725'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2631371661832593725'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/05/hello-again.html' title='Hello again'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-8839402827755820528</id><published>2009-04-14T11:20:00.002+01:00</published><updated>2009-04-14T11:39:45.630+01:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='London'/><title type='text'>A year ago</title><content type='html'>Just realized that around todays date a year ago my relationship ended. And six months of confusion, sadness, smashed air castles began. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But today, one year later, I'm changed. I'm not that person any longer. I managed to grow out of her. I took back the control. My world grew bigger. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a girl powering discussion yesterday with L. Just the kind of ventilation I needed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realized that it's going to feel empty when both L and J have left London.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-8839402827755820528?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/8839402827755820528/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/04/year-ago.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/8839402827755820528'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/8839402827755820528'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/04/year-ago.html' title='A year ago'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-1652975591877243892</id><published>2009-03-16T10:05:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-03-16T10:16:56.275Z</updated><title type='text'>6 days to go</title><content type='html'>The VETO gig is almost within reach. Halleluja. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The sun is shining and it's all good. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's spring in England and winter in Sweden. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://stensgaard.dk/veto.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 800px; height: 533px;" src="http://stensgaard.dk/veto.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-1652975591877243892?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/1652975591877243892/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/03/6-days-to-go.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/1652975591877243892'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/1652975591877243892'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/03/6-days-to-go.html' title='6 days to go'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-3765334295646498297</id><published>2009-03-13T17:06:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-03-13T17:13:17.752Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Maps'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Florence and the Machine'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Skins'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Spotify'/><title type='text'>music bliss</title><content type='html'>I was watching Skins last night. Half dead. But a few songs managed to reach through my fuzzy feeling brain and glue themselves there. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I found a few of them on Spotify, so freshness was added to my for the moment only playlist. Which contains mostly scattered tracks from different artists that has caught my ear. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So newly found ear candy is Maps and Florence &amp; the Machine&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;- happiness, hit her like a train on a track -&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-3765334295646498297?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/3765334295646498297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/03/music-bliss.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/3765334295646498297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/3765334295646498297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/03/music-bliss.html' title='music bliss'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-5845852243247075417</id><published>2009-03-12T17:15:00.007Z</published><updated>2009-03-12T17:30:23.126Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='St Patricks Day'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='A Partial Print'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Yo Sushi'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bar Rumba'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Tiger Lou'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Earl of Camden'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Children of Bodom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Veto'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='System of a down'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='London'/><title type='text'>Thursday bla-bla-bla</title><content type='html'>Another day with overtime today. Yesterday I went to the gym when I got home, around 9pm. Felt good with 30 minutes of exercise instead of crawling straight into bed. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Friday tomorrow. Maybe drinks with Barbara and her boyfriend. London on Saturday with Dave, having dinner at Yo! Sushi. Can't wait. Looking through the menu on the web site makes me drool allover the keyboard. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obsessed with the latest album from Tiger Lou - A Partial Print. Can't listen to anything else right now. I wish VETO had released a new album as well. I'll dedicate all next week to them, in preparation for their gig at Bar Rumba. I'm hoping sweet Jill will come with me. But I'll at least see her on Tuesday, for the St Patricks Day celebration at the Earl of Camden. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Barry had an interesting way of labelling a music artist mainstream yesterday. Because System of a down have had a few singles on US Top Something they we're mainstream. Maybe I should send him a link that explains the word mainstream to him. And to go by his example makes his favourites Children of Bodom mainstream as well, as they've had singles and albums on charts. He annoys me. &lt;br /&gt;Mainstream in my definition is something that is generally liked by the world/society/people. But I guess mainstream means different things to everyone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well. Back to work. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ta-ta&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-5845852243247075417?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/5845852243247075417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/03/thursday-bla-bla-bla.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/5845852243247075417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/5845852243247075417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/03/thursday-bla-bla-bla.html' title='Thursday bla-bla-bla'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-766902481977049655</id><published>2009-03-06T11:10:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-03-06T11:19:08.368Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Camden'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Boileroom'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Veto'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Jose Gonzalez'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='London'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Depeche Mode'/><title type='text'>The death of the week</title><content type='html'>In other words Friday and two weeks since my last update. I guess I got caught in the swirl wind called working overtime and then I had sweet friends from Sweden on visit last weekend. Live music at the Boileroom, shopping in Camden, beer drinking and lots and lots of laughing and love. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Shame they had to go back on Monday. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two concerts coming up in London. First one, Jose Gonzalez. I stumbled upon the site bandsintown.com and discovered that he's doing a show in April. As soon as I realized it was true, I sent a text to Dave and ten minutes or so later, two tickets had been purchased. I then discovered that another favourite band, Veto, is doing a couple of shows in London this month. And I couldn't once again believe my eyes. But yes, oh yes, it was true. So now I'm just trying to find people to come with me. This chance can not be missed. I wouldn't forgive myself. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So great concerts to look forward to each coming month. Veto in March. Jose in April. Depeche Mode in May. I've moved up to Cloud No9. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Come join me!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-766902481977049655?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/766902481977049655/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/03/death-of-week.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/766902481977049655'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/766902481977049655'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/03/death-of-week.html' title='The death of the week'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-4148626985146139812</id><published>2009-02-19T21:23:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-02-19T21:45:36.416Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Anchorman'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Sweden'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gym'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>Within reach</title><content type='html'>Friday tomorrow. Another week of work is coming to an end. And a weekend that always feels to short begins. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A day filled with laughing fits with my dirty sense of humour at it's peak. Entertaining myself the most, but the guys too. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next Thursday I'm picking up two of my beloved friends from Sweden. I can't wait to spend a whole weekend with them. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave's forbid me to refer to any Friends episode or Anchorman for three working days. It's not easy. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The gym tomorrow. Getting up at 04:55. True commitment.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-4148626985146139812?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/4148626985146139812/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/02/within-reach.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/4148626985146139812'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/4148626985146139812'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/02/within-reach.html' title='Within reach'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-5457297351021996807</id><published>2009-02-18T15:42:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-02-18T15:46:35.072Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Depeche Mode'/><title type='text'>It's oh so quiet...</title><content type='html'>...in the office when Paul isn't here. And he's off for at least a week and a half, cos his gonna be a father any day now. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No moaning, no death beating of his keyboard, no phone calls every 10 minutes, no mobile phone calls every 15 minutes. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silence. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And he's the manager, so a bit of a more relaxed atmosphere. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Silence. Calm. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Enjoy the silence by Depeche Mode should be the theme song for the time he's off.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-5457297351021996807?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/5457297351021996807/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/02/its-oh-so-quiet.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/5457297351021996807'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/5457297351021996807'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/02/its-oh-so-quiet.html' title='It&apos;s oh so quiet...'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-755807742859170470</id><published>2009-02-17T15:25:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-02-17T15:30:23.921Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Swedish folk music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Arvingarna'/><title type='text'>What does this sound like to non-British?</title><content type='html'>Still on the Swedish dansband theme. Arvingarna was the next song on the playlist. And I'm still fascinated by how the music sounds. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vLtGZVZs32s"&gt;Arvingarna - Eloise&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to hate this kind of music, but now I'm approaching it with curiosity, fascination, thinking it's not that bad to listen too when I'm bored. Or it's just an age thing. I'll let you know as soon as I find out the reason. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But at least music curiosity did not kill the cat.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-755807742859170470?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/755807742859170470/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/02/what-does-this-sound-like-to-non.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/755807742859170470'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/755807742859170470'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/02/what-does-this-sound-like-to-non.html' title='What does this sound like to non-British?'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-4732242681337274306</id><published>2009-02-17T15:09:00.005Z</published><updated>2009-02-17T15:17:57.607Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Swedish folk music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dansband'/><title type='text'>Swedish tunes in the office</title><content type='html'>Feeling afternoon tired and frustrated at Dave still not being in the office, and by still not being here, forcing me to stay late tonight again. Felt bored of the music on my iPod, but decided to play the playlist with Swedish folk music (=dansband). It's cheesy and catchy and easy to listen to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.leksandsif.se/objects/053126ddfffc6ab775ef39662e12cf52.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 336px; height: 348px;" src="http://www.leksandsif.se/objects/053126ddfffc6ab775ef39662e12cf52.jpg" border="0" alt="" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the mix of listening to Swedish lyrics (and in general a music genre that's very Swedish) when I'm surrounded by British is a bit weird. And I almost expect them to speak Swedish to me, that it's just an English speaking visitor in the office, that's why everyone's speaking English.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Aaatchooo. Bless you. Thank you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-4732242681337274306?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/4732242681337274306/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/02/swedish-tunes-in-office.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/4732242681337274306'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/4732242681337274306'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/02/swedish-tunes-in-office.html' title='Swedish tunes in the office'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-4233890262688635226</id><published>2009-02-15T20:46:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-02-15T20:57:02.032Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='party'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Copenhagen'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='London'/><title type='text'>Feel good feelings</title><content type='html'>Thursday night out in London was a lot of fun. Hanging out with people I've only known for about three or four months. Laughing. Dancing. Talking. Drinking too much. Meeting new people. Both Swedish and British. Expanding my network. Trying to fill the voids my friends back in Sweden create.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not entirely alone. What sucks is that they all live up in London. Sometimes Guildford seems thousand miles away. If only the trains didn't stop running already at midnight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L8pe11tzZZI/SZiBC0JsJFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/IPX_gUEO1xg/s1600-h/IMG_7166.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L8pe11tzZZI/SZiBC0JsJFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/IPX_gUEO1xg/s320/IMG_7166.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5303130446587765842" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I long for the planning a trip to Copenhagen and the road trips in my car with Linnea and Jill.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's all good&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-4233890262688635226?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/4233890262688635226/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/02/feel-good-feelings.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/4233890262688635226'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/4233890262688635226'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/02/feel-good-feelings.html' title='Feel good feelings'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_L8pe11tzZZI/SZiBC0JsJFI/AAAAAAAAAAM/IPX_gUEO1xg/s72-c/IMG_7166.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-8885914228951712160</id><published>2009-02-12T09:49:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-02-12T10:13:12.890Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='party'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>All giggles and butterflies</title><content type='html'>I'm feeling like a 14 year old girl today. All giggly and filled with excitement. It's Dans birthday party in London tonight and a special yummy someone is going to be there. I'm almost a bit nervous, wondering what it's going to be like to see him again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The office is freezing as usual. It will have warmed up around lunch time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Six hours till home time. Eight hours till party time. I'm game. Rock n roll&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-8885914228951712160?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/8885914228951712160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/02/all-giggles-and-butterflies.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/8885914228951712160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/8885914228951712160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/02/all-giggles-and-butterflies.html' title='All giggles and butterflies'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-5011288099800341873</id><published>2009-02-05T16:22:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-02-05T16:35:35.419Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travel'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='winter'/><title type='text'>Weather forecast obsession</title><content type='html'>I will punch Mother Nature in the baby makers if she allows a heavy snow fall tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Seriously I will. Because I don't need a thick layer of snow tomorrow. I'm flying to Frankfurt for the weekend tomorrow night. And I really want to go. And I really don't want my flight to be delayed or cancelled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because of this I've developed an obsession with checking the weather forecast on metoffice.co.uk. Even though it makes me nervous. I better start working on some positive thinking. Some pep talk. Convince Mother Nature to be a good girl.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I loved the 30 cm layer of snow that greeted us all on Monday morning. And after a few hours of "try-to-get-to-work-byt-failed" with the train I enjoyed it to the fullest. Building a snow man and having a snow ball fight and a snow day was heaven. I made a snow angel too. Next to my snowed-in car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sweet car that I bought on Saturday. Her name is Rose. But I couldn't drive to work till yesterday. And Englands infrastructure is still suffering and I'm begging you please, Mother Nature, don't let it snow tonight!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll do anything for you&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-5011288099800341873?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/5011288099800341873/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/02/weather-forecast-obsession.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/5011288099800341873'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/5011288099800341873'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/02/weather-forecast-obsession.html' title='Weather forecast obsession'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-2582070477392995657</id><published>2009-01-27T09:08:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-01-27T10:07:37.655Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='In Flames'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dogs'/><title type='text'>Sober and irrelevant</title><content type='html'>It's not the title of my Tuesday morning. But it was the song I chose to play when I got off the train this chilly end of January morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sober and irrelevant with In Flames. The effect on my brain was like a punch in the stomach and I was wide awake. Well, as wide awake as I can be before my first dose of caffeine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a good song. I love the title.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to start putting playlists together to have in my car. Coz I'm getting a car this week! A proper Dear Diary moment. I've been thinking of suitable names for this sweetie. Hey, maybe sweetie would be a good name. Or baby cakes. Sweet cheeks. Honey pie. I thought of Betty, but since one of my friends back in Sweden named her daughter Betty, it feels not quite right and not as fun anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, discovered yesterday that one of my best friends in high school and college had a son in December last year. It felt very distant. But being on the 27th year, I guess more and more of old school mates in serious relationships are gonna become parents. The path of life. And the single ones are either gonna wish they we're on the same path or think that they would be lost on that path. I'm probably part of the latter ones. Not even sure I want to have kids at all, but that doesn't seem quite allowed to feel as a woman. As a woman I'm supposed to want kids, and like kids. But you won't see me run up to other people's kids and cuddle them and talk baby language with them. That's not me. But I'm very aware that this might change when/if my life starts looking different to what it looks like today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A dog on the other hand. Yes, please. I would make sacrifices for a dog.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-2582070477392995657?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/2582070477392995657/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/01/sober-and-irrelevant.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2582070477392995657'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/2582070477392995657'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/01/sober-and-irrelevant.html' title='Sober and irrelevant'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-5197816493471598932</id><published>2009-01-20T09:43:00.004Z</published><updated>2009-01-20T10:04:29.256Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nicotine'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='car'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snus'/><title type='text'>No place like home</title><content type='html'>So I've been staying at my sisters place since last Sunday when they've been in Jamaica. They went on their own, like a second honeymoon so I've been living with my niece. And the dog, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Pysen&lt;/span&gt;. And the horses. It's all been going really good. I mean, she's 13, she's not that difficult to take care of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sister and her husband were supposed to come home today. Supposed to. She called yesterday saying they wouldn't be able to go home because their plane had had to do an emergency landing on the way to Jamaica. But they would hopefully leave within 24 hours. So another night in Send. Another day with the car. But I had been looking forward to come back home to my room and my bed. To sleep alone and have some alone time. A few days of me time before I spend the weekend in London. I'm hoping they will leave today. Although I'm not very keen on going back travelling via trains to work again. Driving to work has been heaven, even if it took me one hour again yesterday because of the rain. But Adam might be my knight in shining armour. He told me his brother is selling his Ford Fiesta for £500. That would be a dream come true if I could buy that one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm on my 25&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; day without &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-corrected" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;nicotine&lt;/span&gt;. 25 days without &lt;a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Snus"&gt;snus&lt;/a&gt;. Yesterday I didn't handle it too well. But I was oh so happy that I'm living in the UK where I can't just go down to the store and buy some. But my body was really struggling with itself. Left claw marks everywhere. Tore down furniture, threw glass, everything in reach. I better stop talking about it coz it's making me want it really bad. My mind is crowded enough these days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dave asked me last week if I was ok. I felt ok. But apparentely my face/body language was saying something else. Don't know what. But I know I've had a lot of stuff on my mind the last week or two. Maybe since Christmas/New Years even. I don't know really where to put it either. I want a few days on my own, just me. Soon. Hopefully.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I better get back to work now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ta-ta&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-5197816493471598932?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/5197816493471598932/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/01/no-place-like-home.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/5197816493471598932'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/5197816493471598932'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/01/no-place-like-home.html' title='No place like home'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-6376443352149611647</id><published>2009-01-16T08:34:00.003Z</published><updated>2009-01-16T08:47:48.763Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='coffee'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><title type='text'>Bring on the weekend</title><content type='html'>I've been in the office for about one hour. So far I've only opened up the applications I need, and about ten minutes ago, I remembered what I was working on when I left yesterday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You should see me on a Monday morning. As I'm trying to flirt my brain awake with coffee (but it's instant coffee, and that's not real coffee), I'm going back to Friday in my memory to find out what I was working on before the weekend. This happens pretty much every week, and I still haven't started writing down on Fridays what I've done during the week. But I'm quite happy with this, because it means I don't bring the work home with me. When I leave the office, the work stays inside. It sees me go away, and it waves, hoping I will look back and wave too. But I don't. Because I 'm back the morning after. Downing poor instant coffee, feeling that it doesn't contain as much caffeine as real coffee.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joey: You know how Monica feels about low fat mayonnaise?&lt;br /&gt;Monica: It's not mayonnaise!&lt;br /&gt;- The one that could have been, Friends&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-6376443352149611647?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/6376443352149611647/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/01/bring-on-weekend.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/6376443352149611647'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/6376443352149611647'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/01/bring-on-weekend.html' title='Bring on the weekend'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-4045711206101694960</id><published>2009-01-14T15:17:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-01-14T15:29:58.045Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='work'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><title type='text'>A few artists later</title><content type='html'>I don't know if &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Metallica&lt;/span&gt; did the trick with soothing my itching soul. But it feels a little less restless inside. But not much really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this restlessness has made me not do so much work today. I think I can safely but not very proudly say that I've done almost nothing today. I've done so little I don't even remember it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the project I'm on is just so mind numbingly boring. And I'm so near the finish line I can almost lick it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight I need to update my iPod with some more music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adam is the apple of my eye at work. I would go under with boredom without him in the office.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;30 more minutes before I follow the lady's voice home.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-4045711206101694960?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/4045711206101694960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/01/few-artists-later.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/4045711206101694960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/4045711206101694960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/01/few-artists-later.html' title='A few artists later'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5678568020508959826.post-128548024610964214</id><published>2009-01-14T11:21:00.000Z</published><updated>2009-01-14T11:28:31.650Z</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thailand'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='music'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='dogs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='holiday'/><title type='text'>The soundtrack of me. Today. 11am-ish.</title><content type='html'>I'm trying to put together the soundtrack of today. The soundtrack that would reflect what I am today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know how you some days listen to lots of songs, and yet none of them manages to sooth the scratching sensation in your soul? No? Well that's a good explanation of how I feel some days. Those days no music I have is good enough. I can't find the relief of tension that I look for in the guitar solos, drums and lyrics. It makes me frickin frustrated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a day like that today. Right now I'm trying out Metallica. A shuffle of the songs on Black Album, Master of Puppets, Load, Reload. Some songs come close to put a smoothing coating on me, but it's quickly replaced with... grains of sand? That scratches the surface. It's fuckin annoying.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I may have a little of that ever so lovely pms. The hormonal bitch that makes you question pretty much everything. That makes nothing seem right. That makes you feel things you don't really want to feel. But you know chocolate would satisfy that bitch. At least for 15 minutes or so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I wish I was somewhere else. Maybe Somewhere Else on Koh Lanta. Or Koh Chang. I thought of Lion. That wonderful Cambodian-people-disliking dog. And Me. The chubby stubborn dog. Who just wanted someone to cuddle him. And I did. And he adopted me and Markus. Slept outside our bungalow. Got in trouble when he followed us into other dogs territories. Came looking for me when I sat on the beach night time.&lt;br /&gt;Me, I miss you. I hope you're still sleeping outside Seven Eleven and chasing King Kong off the road.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The hunt for the perfect music continues.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/5678568020508959826-128548024610964214?l=miss-inga.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/feeds/128548024610964214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/01/soundtrack-of-me-today-11am-ish.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/128548024610964214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/5678568020508959826/posts/default/128548024610964214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://miss-inga.blogspot.com/2009/01/soundtrack-of-me-today-11am-ish.html' title='The soundtrack of me. Today. 11am-ish.'/><author><name>Shobben</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/16805368593046603446</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
