The case of whether there’s more between heaven and earth than particles of nitrogen and oxygen is one I’ve often set aside. It doesn’t matter to me because even if there is something I highly doubt it’s a God and in any case it doesn’t seem to have an impact on my life.
Lately I’ve reconsidered the constitution of the world.
It was, as always, a busy morning. Back then we only had one car and my mother had to drive me to school and my father to work before going to her own workplace.
I waited for them to finish. I was so little that my help would be inefficient if they decided to explain to me how to help so I stared into the air at the exciting dust particles dancing around.
I looked down the hallway and into the living room and stiffened.
There, right beside my father’s desk, stood a man.
Rather, I knew it was a man, but it wasn’t.
It was the shadow of a man. The broad shoulders gave him away.
He shone with an utterly astonishing light, going from inside and out. He didn’t have a face to smile with, yet I felt warm as though he had.
My mother said something and I glanced at her. All bags and suitcases were in the car.
When I looked back the man was gone. Continue reading →
Florence once said she does it to reinvoke a state of envelopment of something not good, not bad. A feeling of being able to breathe underwater.
My sister says 12 is not old enough to understand. I’ve not had my heart broken.
But it’s she who doesn’t understand.
That’s not at all what Florence is about.
“This is a gift,” I whisper and take a steadying breath.
Everything comes with a price. The heart is hard to translate, but now I see how to understand it. That’ll save me much pain. To be able to understand my heart will make me strong enough to withstand anyone.
I step over to the poolside. It’s only spring, so the water cripples me with goose bumps.
“The dog days are over,” I whisper.
I jump. Continue reading →
People say it’s dumb to be idealistic about these things; that if making laws to regulate people’s behavior help they’re good.
And usually I’m a pragmatic person and I do like that there’s no smoke in bars. It makes it more comfortable for everyone and we can stay out for longer, which in turn means that bars actually make more money because we buy more drinks.
But now I’m suffocating.
And it gets worse for every new law.
The health ministry in Denmark has grown powerful in the past years. They made the fat tax and the sugar tax which regulated nothing. People merely felt economically worse about the bacon they bought but, hey, they want it. It’s also ironic that Danes have to pay more for bacon than the countries we export it to.
Okay, so, hey, this morning I woke up to the news that the “health minister has voiced criticism against the Supermarkets, claiming that Supermarkets play on our desire for unhealthy snacks by placing the candy shelf right next to the checkout and in children’s height.” Continue reading →
I didn’t watch Sailor Moon when I was a kid and ever since I heard of it I tried to avoid it. I assumed it was a very girlish show – which it is – and stuck to my aversion of everything rom com.
That was until I found melinapendulum, an excellent critic on youtube, who was, to put it lightly, a hardcore fan.
She highlighted all of the liberal sides to Sailor Moon, like the lesbian relationship that was, unfortunately, downplayed in the anime, the powerful female characters and their depth.
I got interested – but it’s like 300-400 episodes and my life is too short for filler.
Now there’s a new chance: Sailor Moon Crystal.
The legendary anime that helped put Japan on the entertainment-chart gets a reboot and this time it follows the manga, much like how Full Metal Alchemist got a reboot, Brotherhood, that followed the manga.
This happens sometimes because anime catches up to the manga and has to create fillers but once the manga is done this is no longer necessary.
(Wow, I wonder if Naruto will ever get a reboot. or Dragon Ball Z)
It’s a year since I stood in a large physics room in front of two teachers and explained motions in two dimensions. A year since I waited 7 whole minutes before I got my grade. A year since I, with a beginning fever, received roses, hugs, a porcelain owl and the hat.
The hat is handed out to the Danish graduates that come out every year and it’s a symbolic key to the university but also the key to the best party ever.
I’ll take this opportunity to explain the Danish school system. Continue reading →
After I returned from the states I’ve returned to my crossfit routine and it’s awesome. However, the last workout pretty much left me disabled for a few days and I talked with the instructor about it.
He smiled and told me to hang in there, that after this workout I’ll feel less sore and after the next one even less.
He’d cheered me on during the workout (as always, I’m the last to finish and with the least weight) and I could see in his stance that he wanted to pat my back.
He half-raised his hand but let it fall again and we said goodbye, see ya’ later alligator.
I doubt very much that the interrupted pat had any sexual undertones but I understand why he’d hesitate. Male trainers refrain from touching their female clients and warn them about it if it’s necessary.
It creates a weird atmosphere and the irony is this: Continue reading →
Almost every song out there is about the same thing, which is, of course, love.
And not love from a new, subjective or personal angle. No. Just the same, superficial viewpoint that everybody can join into.
“Lament your woes through this song. Let’s sing about how hard our exes suck. This can be your break-up tune.”
In this video the crew of After Hours discusses how the subconscious secretly wants a deadpan hero. The deadpan hero with little attitude can become a rack doll for our emotions.
This is what the new Lego movie makes fun of as well.
Cats are attracted to people who don’t like them. Many chase the cat around and try to stroke or hug it, but it’s the person who ignores it that catches its attention.
That’s the person into whose lab the cat crawls. Even if he or she has allergies.
And so it is with men.
“It’s too bad Cobalamine is already used for a vitamin. It would make such a cool name.”
Julie stops mid-kitchen with the baking plate and makes a disgusted face in my direction before she remembers that baking plates are hot and puts down the nachos. Her big earrings jiggle when she shakes her head.
“Just listen to the word alone.”
She giggles. “I hope you never have babies.”
“Really? Because I’d name my son Cobalamine?”
“Oh my God, I thought it was for a girl. Cobalamine for a boy?”
Julie shouts into the living room: “Dennis, come.”
I frown and focus on the nachos as Dennis comes running through the crowd of dancers.
“Ooh, nachos!” he exclaims, picks one up and shoves it in his mouth. “Argh!” It’s too hot and he grimaces as he crunches it down. If there hadn’t been two pretty girls near him his tongue would have demanded that he spit it out. As is …
“Could a guy be named Cobalamine?”
“Exactly! Sorry, Sasha, it’s a dumb name.”
I laugh it off and shrug.
My neck is tense and I try to ease it up by massaging it. I grab a nachos and nibble at it. It’s just the right temperature. The cheese is still gooey and gives me an excuse for just shrugging her words off so they can change the subject.
The smell of food reaches the drunk people in the living room and they migrate to the kitchen. I grab a handful of nachos and put them on a napkin. I get up to leave my seat when a hand touches my waist and I start.
It’s Erik, the guy only a handful of people in the crowd know. He’s got a grin like a cheetah and hair with just the right, wavy length so he’s a definite hit with the girls who were practically grinding his leg down there on the dancefloor.
Hell, they probably wish he had more legs.
He leans over me and grabs some nachos.
“Uh, do you want my chair?” I ask.
“No, you keep it.” He smiles in a way that’s supposed to make me sigh like a swooning lady, I suppose, but all I can focus on is the speck of nachos by one of his canine teeth. Continue reading →
There’s a cucumber on my counter.
It’s the only cucumber we’ve got and we love cucumbers.
It’s from the greenhouse – the one my mother took care of while I was gone.
But I planted them.
I’m the one who eats all the fruits and veggies. I’m the one with the weird digestion and aside from one cucumber, there’s almost no stuff I can eat in the kitchen.
But my mother likes cucumbers, too, and I always do this. I always get the best fruit for myself, even though it feels nice to share.
I’m greedy with food. I eat too much when I’m scared I won’t get any.
Should I eat that cucumber?
Or should I give it to my mother and watch her enjoy it? It would be the nice thing to do. It’d make me feel good to give that to her.
Marvil threw his pink shirt on the bed.
His wife looked up from where she was nestled under the covers, with the pillows stacked up behind her and a book titled ‘all about pickling’ in her hands.
“Okay. Fine. I give up.”
“What’s wrong?” He assumed the amusement in her tone was meant to tease him but it just caused more frustration.
“I have nothing to wear tomorrow.” He lifted up the red shirt. “This is the best shirt I’ve got, but the color …”
She reached for it and looked at it, amazed. “Why do you even have it?”
“A friend got married in vegas.”
She nodded, as if everybody had such a friend and thus a weird relic hidden somewhere in the closet.
“Wear one of your other shirts.”
“I need a white one.”
“Don’t you have one?”
“This is another one of those times I wish you did the laundry.”
She laughed but he only managed a wry smile.
“Can I borrow one of your dead – I’m sorry – your husband’s …” He blushed. “I’m your husband.”
“You’re very perceptive. I’m impressed.”
He hung his head so she couldn’t see his face. “Can I borrow one of Jeremy’s shirts?” Continue reading →