Yeah I Saw the Boy Who Could Fly But..

..a flying fuel dispenser?
Surrealistic TV adverts are not rare but few are therapeutic.
Well, I find this therapeutic. It's kind of like Boris Vian meets Erik Satie.

Steam Punk

Borgen

Forbrydelsen, aka The Killing was sort of disappointing. I loved being able to see the city of Copenhagen and I thought acting was great, but the whole "Who's done it?" business was too tedious for me and couldn't care enough to keep watching it. Then I did watch every episode of the Killing Season 2, but I still thought it was lacking magnetic-something, sort of underdeveloped. It wasn't as gripping as Prime Suspect(not the US remake, the original) or as sinister as Criminal Justice.

This January the new Danish TV series Borgen has started on BBC4. I'm enjoying it so far. They included the Greenland issue in the episode 4, which I thought was a yay; one can't deny or avoid the history if one wants to talk about politics. So I'm looking forward to watching the rest of the series and will be glued to TV on Saturday nights for the next 3 weeks.

New Year's Resolution 2012

1. Wade through the piles of books in my bookshelf and make some progress.
2. No more impulse book shopping until I've done 1. (except No.3)
3. Find and read all of Richard Yates' novels and short stories that I haven't read.
4. Stop being sorry to anyone or anything. Oh yeah.
5. Stop feeling sorry for myself.
6. More adventure.
7. Less wine.
8. Less ale.
9. More gin.
10. More vermouth.
11. More 9+10=Gibson
12. Definitely more Bowie.

Little Glass Jar

When I was about 9 or 10, a friend of mine and I went to the auto-repair shop that my another friend's dad owned. A car with a dented door and a broken windshield was there to be fixed and we kids were there just to collect the broken glass scattered around the vehicle. Those blueish 1cm-square pieces of windshield glass looked beautiful to my eyes. I think I had a thing for glass as a kid.

This petite green jar, about 7cm tall, makes me feel a little nostalgic.

It must be for storing food.
Spice? Dried herb? Sugar cubes?
I'm thinking powdered yuzu or shichimi.

On the bottom it says "Czechoslovak".

Hit the Road

My biggest childhood ambition was to run away from home.
That might give you a wrong idea. No, my parents didn't beat me or ill-treated me. I just wanted to go somewhere, some place else where nobody knew me. You might think I was a born wayfarer, but considering how much I need and love nesting now, I don't think I was.

Having said that, I still get this impulse to go somewhere sometimes. Pack my bag, get on a train and go to a place where people speak a language I don't have a clue of. I like it to be a seaside town. (Not a village, I don't do villages.) I would get a job at a fish monger as a "scale remover", and work from 7am to 3pm. After work I would go back to my little room upstairs of a dry cleaner and fix myself a smoked mackerel baguette sandwich. (Cut the baguette about 15cm long, halve and toast them. Spread generous amount of butter and some English mustard on the bread. Place a piece of smoked mackerel, some sliced tomatoes and onions, sprinkle some sea salt, freshly ground black pepper, and squeeze a quarter of lemon over the filling. Put the other half of the baguette on it. Bon appétit.) At night, I just read a book and talk to no one. Next day would be the repetition of this perfect routine...
These days my fantasy seems to have moved up to a whole new level. I am drawn to the idea of doing Walden myself. Am I really up for it? Nahh. But maybe someday...

No one tells me to hit the road and not to come back, but someday, I might hit the road for real.

Voice

It took about a year for her
to get her voice back
She spent countless nights lying in bed
staring into darkness

If the 2009 version of her saw 2010 version of her
this is what she would have said
It's not the end of the world
Don't be a drama queen

Perhaps the old her just could not have seen
what it would be like
to feel completely empty
I am certain
she thought she knew
but she didn't

It was a frosty day
All spotless, all serene
Emerging from its whiteness
were bright red berries and deep green leaves
So vivid, so exquisite
Everything was motionless
she was motionless
The snow, the berries, the green leaves
They would melt and die away
They would be broken down by micro-organisms
Just like everything else in the world
Just like her
She is the snow, berries and leaves

It's not the end of the world, really

She got her voice back

I got my voice back

Clip Top Bag

Why do clip tops, or twist clasp, whatever you call it, attract me? I always wondered about that. And I think I know why. It's feminine.
Clip tops are strictly for chicks.