Inverted whine

When do I hate myself the most? When is life the worst?

When I'm bored.

So I guess right now life ain't so bad after all.

A quick note on guest behaviour

It sort of hit me a couple of weeks ago when I had some friends over: When you come home to someone, where do you put your shoes?

Surely not a bare foot away from the doorway? Or maybe that's how you do, cause' everybody did just that. I mean: there's a whole hall in where to put your shoes - do you necessarily have to put them on the frickin' doormat then?

And what's the problem with people and toilet lids? Is is so hard to put down the lid after you've used the toilet? It looks so much nicer, but still noone does it. I don't get why. Seriously, it's not that much work for such a more good-looking environment!

And why, when you leave, do you just rise up and walk away? When you're at someones place there's noone really working with removing peoples glasses, cans and bottles from tables (and other places more or less appropriate), but it's the host who gets to take care of that - and how nice is that?

But worst of all: Who gets the bright idea to start throwing the host stuff around?! You have no idea of the worth of the object you're throwing (economical or emotional), and thus don't do it. Just don't fucking do it. It's not a bright idea, anywhere.

Above mention stuff is considered social standard to me, but obviously not to everyone else. You can't behave as you're doing at home when you're at someone elses place, it's just as simple as that. You're a guest, and guests behaves.

There -is- an important message in there somewhere...

I just ousted the batterys of my iPod. That's bad shit happenin' right here in front of you ladies and gentelmen. Not like, WW3 bad or something but hey! We're talking magnitude here.

No sympathy? Seriously? What's up with you guys?! Low bat on your mp3 player is a major disadvantage in the fight we call 'everyday living'. No music = no life. That's how I view it and don't come tell me otherwise.

I mean, lucky thing I was at home when this happened - figure what might have happened if I'd been outside, or (God forbid) on a train! I wouldn't be able to live with myself after something like that...

Oh, wait, there's someone knockin' on the door...





[We by this assure that noone, animal nor man, was harmed during this writing. The specimen is once again calmed down and is playing joyfully with what he believes to be his own tail. There's nothing to see here. Please move along.]

problem- tolkning, lösning och analys

Upon having lunch with one of my classmates the other day he mentioned something interesting on studying: When facing a problem you can focus on three parts; the interpretation, how to solve it, or analysis.

He complained about the teachers at Stockholms University focusing to much on how to solve problems (at least in the courses he's taken, which basicilly are the same as me) and not putting enough energy into either problem interpretation or analysis.

I'm not saying that he's right, but still I agree with him. It would be interesting to get a bit more of a philosophical approach on statistics and economics - we've got computers doing the math for us anyway.

Anyhow. I think it was a rather neat approach on the whole circus.

Fun equals smile, thus smile equals fun, right?

I went shopping with my father last week. Upon arriving at the counter I noted that the cashier looked rather bored. Being in a good mood after walking through the supermarket with ma' pa' (quality time with your parents is darn rare, appreciate it!) I started joking with him, and the cashier.

She probably observed the scene with the eyes of a sceptic- why was I clowning in front of her? Why was I being so overly jolly? Simple answer: Life's much more fun living as long as you're smiling.

Think about it: When you enjoy yourself the most, what do you do? You smile. Adapting the (or am I inversing it?) Pavlovs dogs theory tells us that just by smiling you will get happy. I mean: It should work both ways. At least I believe so.

Hitherto life will be more fun living if you smile more, so start smiling more to live a happier life! I'm doing it, and it's working, really. No fault in trying either, so why not give it a go?

About the cashier; I made her smile in the end wishing her a good evening. It was a very beautiful, genuine smile she gave me as she responded in kind. And I'm totally sure that I made her day at least a tad more enjoyable.

Wiki might help you reading this cause' I seriously won't link it all...

I've been a fan of Mutant Chronicles since I started playing Doom Trooper, twelve years ago (do the math: I was in third grade). Soon thereafter I got introduced to Warzone which I started collecting and painting with much enthusiasm.

Warzone soon evolved into Warhammer and Warhammer 40.000, and oh so many hours I've spent on that hobby. To be precise I kept collecting, painting and studying the creations of Games Workshop up until the ninth grade when I started working at Tradition (turned to EB Games turned to GameStop).

Back in the days Tradition still stocked miniatures (along with pen-and-paper RPGs, boardgames, cardgames and other good stuff), but my interest was on decline and given the unlimited opportunitys of videogaming offered to a videogame clerk I stepped away from the hobby for good.

The trivia of Games Workshops universes still interests me, but in no way as much as the universe of Mutant Chronicles does. Guess my enjoyment when i was informed that there was (is) a new Mutant Chronicles RPG in development!

And that wasn't the only thing: There was a major motion picture film being recorder too, a film I took the time to watch yesterday.

As with all movies it was in my opinion underwhelming, but I can't help smiling in delight hearing names like Mitch Hunter, Max Steiner and Valerie Duval being spoken on screen...

Roomie san

And just like that I had a roomie. Cool huh?


Maybe I should start from the beginning:

73sqm is a tad to big for one person (not spacewise but rentwise, at least when you're a student), and thus a roomie has been a must ever since I moved in (this whole eternity of three weeks).

Getting someone to rent a room is, depending on view, terribly easy or very hard, and it all comes down to what extent your tenant fits your 'perfect tenant' image in your head.

In my opinion important tenant traits are: Outgoing, positive, mature, not too close a friend (I want to keep it 'professional'), and a calm personality (big parties every weekend is no good due to the not soundproof apartment we're residing in).

Being of Japanese heritage was previously on the list but is now dropped, along with female, 21-ish, single, lindy hopper, musiclover, and all that other important but not that probable stuff.

Simon sent me an sms early last week and dropped by and had a look at the room. Yesterday he moved in. 24 hours fresh but it feels really good. I'm looking forward to see how it develops.

And just like that I had a roomie. Cool huh?

Not that big a story this time, I know, but all adventures aren't big ones. (and thank God for that, cause' I wouldn't have time to blog about everything then...)

The Magpie Rhyme

One for sorrow,

Two for joy,

Three for a girl,

Four for a boy,

Five for silver,

Six for gold,

And seven for a secret

never to be told.

So my mind answers "just for the sake of f*ing everything up"

It's interesting, cause' often I feel more anxiety the day after a test than the day before. I'm not sure why, but a guess would be that when I'm done writing a test there's nothing more to look forward to, nothing to look for and pursue in the horizon. There's many storys remarking upon the fact that very often it's the journey, and not the goal, that matters - might this be an extreme example?

While in Tokyo Momo made me read a book about birthdays: Every day of the year had an ingoing description of how that person were 'supposed' to be. Like a permanent horoscope, really. Mine said that I will lead a happy life as long as I'm learning new things - that said I should be really keen on getting a job where I'd learn much in the course of my employment.

Writing this it's 24 hours, roughly, since I sat down to write the test, and already the back of my mind is knocking on the shoulder of my concious self remarking that an emotional breakdown and despair would be a really cool course of action. Selfconciously I fire back "why?" and all I get for answer is "well, it's not that you've got anything to look forward to anymore, eh?". Which is totally wrong, of course, but I guess the feeling of despair is sort of good at perverting truth.

It's nothing bad, really. It's even a bit funny - why am I having this kind of inverted anxiety when it concerns exams? Five point to the one managing that question.

A quick note on timekeeping

I always keep the time**. On time, on target, and often a couple of minutes early. No, that's never been a problem for me.

What I'm not as good at is keeping hours. Now we're not talking about bed hours (not that I can keep those either, but that's another story...), but basic standard hours. Roughly once a month I find myself being a whole hours early or late (more often early than late, though, much more often).

A quick example for clarifications sake:

Yesterday morning I was expecting some friends from my statistics course to drop by to do some collective studying for the test today. Knowing that they'd arrive at my place at ten and that I wouldn't have to do my ordinary one-hour-travel-to-school to see them I, after some counting, figured I had an hour extra this morning to spend on any leisure I found appropriate.

My first thought was 'clean up this mess, at least some' and my second was 'sleep'. Not wanting to do an all in on either I figured fifty-fifty would be nice. Said (of maybe we should say 'thought') and done I set my alarm half an hour later than the day before and went to sleep.

Waking up I took my shower and prepared my breakfast as usual, just to realize that I was a whole frickin' hour earlier out of bed than anticipated. Why? Well, the day before yesterday school started nine o'clock, not at ten as usual. You can do the math yourself.

But what to do with an hour extra out of nowhere? Not going back to sleep at least - I'd never get out of bed again that way. No, I did some spring cleaning instead, for all the fun that was.

Anyway, so I'm bad at hours, cause' yesterdays's not the first time this thing've happened lately. It happened at least twice in Tokyo, but curiously enough I can't remember it happening before going there. I wonder if it's a new phenomena or just me being forgetful of my past.

**of course I mess up and arrive late sometimes, but that's not often.

Test tomorrow (this title's getting old...)

Everybody studies for exams, but noone does it the same way. Everyone's got their own way of doing it. I've always done it my own way, but I've never been sure what I really do until last week when Daniel told me:

'You're the whine'y type, always been. Whine, whine, whine, test soon, soon, soon. And then you just dissapeared, severing all connections with reality for a couple of days, reamergeing with your paper written or content enough with exampreparations. You've always been like that.'

Well, I guess that he out of everybody ought to know. It all doesn't sound improbable to my ears, though. Whether it's a good way of doin' it or not I won't be the judge, I'd rather just accept it for what it is.

How do you study for your exams?

I'm longing to see her, but I guess it can wait

For a bit more than a week I've been soaked by the Sandman Chronicles. Halfway through so far and yesterday I finished The High Cost of Living. I will be cautionous and not proclaim it the best I've read so far (I believe that still is Preludes and Nocturnes, the first volume, or Men of Good Fortune, a one issue), but I can with surety say that it in my opinion is the one with best way-to-live-your-life advice so far, touching on the border of perfection.

Cause' that's what I like with Sandman: Reading it gives you perspective. Gaiman's an extraordinary visionary (was, and am), and I am by now confident in my opinion that he's the best writer there is. I definitely haven't read them all, but I'm not sure it matters. Gaiman is Gaiman, and he's just that good.

Liten skitsak, egentligen, men...

On friday I've got my first exam for this term. It's in "statistics with mathematical applications" (that is: derivatives, logaritms and integrals. mostly.)

Not that big a test, but there are some new stuff you have to grasp before sitting down on friday. One of them the maximum likelihood estimation.

I felt some pride realizing that there is a prerequisite. Not a big deal, really, but to me it shows that I've come at least somewhere on the journey towards my graduation. You need to know something to be able to read this post, and I do.

I know everybody knows I've spent two-and-a-half-ish years in university by now (and that includes me; I've sort of lived it through, so to speak...) but it's very nice to see it black on white, to have it formal. It's like the diploma they give you when you finish your studies: It doesn't fill a role anymore (it's all logged in the computer anyway), but it's darn fun to have it at home as a reminder of what you've accomplished.

Privat nattklubb? Ja, nästan

Turning 18 is something big, or at least that something they tell me. My brother had a combined birthday party (together with a friend turning 18 the same day as him) this last friday, friday the 13th.

A lot of people were invited, and only 4 out of 80 turned down the invitation (compare this to me inviting 40 people last time I had a party, 19 turning up in the end).

Having such a big party and refusing their parents presence on the spot it fell to me and his friends big brother to handle the fundamentalities once the whole thing was up and going. A rather massive task responsibilityvise, and thus [the-friends-big brothers-girlfriend] and my friend Daniel was invited to help out too.

Having it big wasn't the only reason for having four (relative) grown ups on the spot as this whole spectacle took place on friday 13th. I'm not superstitious, but even trifling with fate a day like this felt like a typically bad idea...

Writing this the party is three days passed and it turned out far better than anyone had ever hoped for - myself I've never been to a better home party, ever. A worthy way of celebrating your ascension into adulthood, to say the least.

Everybody did a great job, but there's still one man deserving extra credit; Daniel. It just wouldn't have been the same without him...

And thus it came to be that my brother was a whole year older in the passing of a night - or maybe we should say a week, it probably matters not. What matters is that I believe that he's had the time of his life, and I'm begrudging him nothing.

Once again congratulations Oskar. Wish you the best.

and thus a toast

yesterday my brother turned eighteen.


looks like he's growing up, just like the rest of us.

congratulations bro

hope you get the hell of a year full of wonders and cool experiences.

aldrig fel att spara ner bra grejer

många har sagt det före mig, men det tåls att sägas igen:


men lol

Finally a pic-up line for us statisticians!

"Face it - I'm your statistically significant other"

jag undrar vad hon skulle ha önskat sig i sitt paket...

Yesterday a friend contacted me. She needed to talk. They'd put down one of their dogs the day before.

We talked for a couple of hours. About feelings, about what's been, about what's coming. But mostly we talked about sadness, and about what it is to miss someone as important to you as your dog.


Today would have been Ronjas birthday.

It's 16 months since we put her down and I don't cry for her anymore. But I miss here. We all miss her.

She's a common talk. "Do you remember how she used to...?" "What do you think she'd done now?" "You remember back when she...?" And that's precisely how I believe she wants it to be.

I'm a believer. Not a big one, but one nonetheless. I believe that she's in another place right now, waiting for the rest of us together with all the other: Morris, Myran, Gustaf, Pigge, my grandparents, everybody.

I also believe that she's, that everybody over there, are having a real good time. So waiting is not a pain for them, but a pleasure. A pleasure that awaits us all in the end. A pleasure, but an eternal pleasure, so no need rushing though, eh?

So it's Ronjas birthday today. Happy birthday Ronja! We miss you lots back here :)

Icke, det eskalerade!

Several times I've both told myself and others that Tokyo changed me, that things are different now, even though it might not seem that way at first glance.

Here's one proof I realized today: I feel good singing again!

It's been years since last time, almost three to be precise. God, I've missed it...

och så var man inflyttad

Tonight'll be my first night sleeping my new apartment in Farsta.

I remember two and a half years ago when I moved to Västerås, the feeling of sadness that hit me when I said goodbye to my parents that cold monday night in fall 2006.

Today was different. I don't know if it's because I'm more in tune with myself now or if it's just because I'm better prepared. Either way it feels so much better this time around, it really feels like I'm doing the right thing. Of course, you can never know for sure, but one can hope.

And hope can get you a long way sometimes.

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