søndag den 22. november 2009

why did dicaprio have to die

You can do anything you want as long as it makes sense
mystery jets

We're all just regular everyday normal guys and mothafuckas.

all i want

All i want for christmas
Is you and you and you and you...
and you Mariah Carey

For the mind,

Canadian poetry

365 days of dark humour

artsy stuff from Yes We Can Can


big, obnoxious faux fur coat
an incredible amount of cash
to go Wasteland-crazy (Juno
shades and Mt. Ape College
sweatshirts here I come)
timed jewelry
and soul
inspirational books

itinerant tunes of some kind

fit for a fortnight

Says she's 21, shes probably 16
Got a dirty mouth
At least her teeth are clean
Jack from Tennesee
Makes me think that every girl I see
Is my cup of tea The Holloways
Another weirdly well-balanced weekend, ohoy. Friday we went to the theatre to see the Henrik Ibsen play "A Doll's House" at the folk theatre. It was quite nice, except it was like they'd tried to create a 'modern version', with cell-phones and Desigual dresses appearing here and there on the stage, but somehow it didn't quite stick.
When the play was over, almost everybody wanted to go home, or go to this party thrown by a close friends' exboyfriend, so Sofia, Christina, and I decided instead to go drink some liquorice shots on the doorsteps of Copenhagen. We ended up running around oustide the Tivoli-area in a big chain with a guy called Sam, making people join in streetdances and tripping over homeless Italians.
I woke up distressed, after a very off-putting dream, had a shower, and went back into the city to babysit my cousin Eileen. We ate caramel chew chew, drank too much green tea and watched an excessive amount of musicals - I fell asleep first, defeated.
On my way home this morning, I stopped at the Central Station for coffee (my favourite 7-11 guy always stamps my card twice, bless him) and fell over the most magnificent 5 albums for 100 kr (app. $20) sale. Hurray for other people not appreciating my music, have a nice Sunday out there. My personal must-hears;
"Hell Yeah/and if you don't believe in Hell/
c'mon and just yell yeah" Yell Yeah!
"You know London will kill her/you can't let
the smoke have it's way" Most Lonely Face
"You can't fool me Dennis/knock me in a
cocked hat/you always played with a
straight bat" You Can't Fool Me Dennis
"Heal, why don't you heal/killing the doctor/
it's real, it's almost real" Killing the Doctor
and track # 6, Interlude in F Major.
"You better cry hard/cause I'm the
worst and the best right through this"
Demons (Are a Girl's Best Friend)

onsdag den 18. november 2009

ante meridiem

Put your glad rags on and join me, hon,
We'll have some fun when the clock strikes one,
We're gonna rock around the clock tonight,
We're gonna rock, rock, rock, 'til broad daylight.
We're gonna rock, gonna rock, around the clock tonight Bill Haley

I know I'm cheap, but my sister is getting a cow-painting for her
twentieth birthday. I need to write something cool in stensils
next to it, but I'm waiting for originality to strike me with
something more creative than "20 years of moo"

stone cold sober

119 miles an hour
I'm in a whole other dimension
Dancing doubles on the floor Paloma Faith

So, you know how when you feel really sick-ish and flu-licious, and you have all these hours in the day to just sit around like a newly-spawned, permanent lump in your coutch, you suddenly start noticing things about you, you never noticed before? For instance, I have a freckle right squat centre on my right big toe. I had two bumpy almost-zits on my nose, that I made into two perfectly illuminating, red scratches. And then I looked at my hair and had a "hmmmmmmm" moment. I tried cutting it, and failed slowly. One thing is cutting bangs, but hair in general is much much tougher. Anya came by, grabbed the scissors (under the influence of a little Bailey's and cigar smoke, might I add) and started chopping away. I really like the result, except I'm gonna go to the hairdresser's next week and get her to fix a little of this and that.

Other than the new hair and the reactions I get daily (ranging from "Wow, that really suits you" to "That is brave. I would never do it" and the eternally dreaded "You look.. different"), which I am trying to appreciate little by little, not much is up. I'm tired from sniffing paint fumes all day and trying to pump myself up on a little instant karma.

lørdag den 14. november 2009

water on the moon

Screw you
I didn't like your taste
anyway, I chose you
That's all go to waste
It's Saturday
I'll go out and find another you Robbie Williams
You know you're a sick, tired, smelly excuse for a human when you've had a piece of meat-less kebab pizza stuck in your braces on the back side of your front teeth for more than an hour.. but still find don't find the motivation to leave this sweaty bed and find a piece of dental floss.

Ohhh I could go for a Push Pop.
Oh my God you know you're starved for entertainment when you go far enough into the archives of Youtube and stumble over rib cage ticklers like this pearl and the first legit reason I ever got to start watching Idol.
[I realise my humour at this point is very banal.. I have a fever, either feed me ice cream, or go away]

fredag den 13. november 2009

sleep [instrumental]

"I think when rational men are forced to face their shortcomings, they all do the same thing: blame Kevin Casey"
I know what you must be thinking. Miss Enna D'lor has disappeared off the face of the earth and randomly got stuck in a dark but surprisingly homely grotto with only cups of earl grey and youtube scrubs episodes to get by on. And I would be loving it too, if it wasn't for the constant sneeze/cough attacks, the tears, the aching spine, the weird smells my skin oozes, the drowsiness, the self-pity, etc. People bring me food, sometimes I eat it, sometimes I don't. My entire hall is sick and everything smells like pills. I just ate an orange and feel worse than ever. Tonight I'm going home to the mainland to see my parents, and hopefully get better for monday. Please, please, please, dear sickness, do not be swine flu.
I just made my friends hand in my English literary essay and Physics report that I was working on all night yesterday.

Cleaning crew is here. Vacuum on full blast in the hall. FML.

mandag den 9. november 2009

my lucky day

Dr. Cox to J.D: “How about, Go to hell, Shakira.”

This amazing episode surprised me today. After waking up to the darkest shade of grey known to Danish November, not making breakfast, having two pointless lessons of Danish and a conversation with my teacher About My Future (started sad, was okay for a while, then I started getting nervous, then more sad, then a happy uplift near the end, and then i tripped out of the door as I left with the sound of my teacher sighing loudly behind me), then two hours off which I spent doing laundry and buying gum and soap in town, lunch which was labeled "Green Stuff" for the vegetarians (yum, my favourite), and then two History periods about German Unification which was killer killer killer. So coming home to Scrubs and a warm Snuggie (I accidentally-on-purpose left it on the radiator - fire hazard to the max, but so delicious to cuddle up in) was, is, perfection.

søndag den 8. november 2009

galla galla

'galla' is a nonsense term often used by anti-Oromo people, and also another name for P'tcha , a traditional Ashkenazi Jewish food. However; in Danish it's a word used to described a formal party of sorts. I was at one yesterday. I wore these very nice new heels from H&M and also fell very hard and painfully in them later in the evening (after all-you-can-eat-and-drink at the Chinese restaurant for three hours prior to the dance). We danced lancier and I went home quite early. It was the kind of morning where you wish things were a lot different and you clean up your entire room and fold your clothes nicely and have a decent shower. These kind of morning always change me a little bit for the better, I think.

lady stardust

The boy in the bright blue jeans
jumped up on the stage
and lady stardust sang his songs
of darkness and disgrace David Bowie

Lydia's Zimbabwean mate came to Copenhagen during the week. We spent one whole day marching through the city, literally not being able to locate The Little Mermaid, a H.C. Andersen inspired statue that sits on a rock in the middle of nowhere by Churchill Park. She is one of Denmark's most powerful images, but I still haven't figured out why, except that Andersen is a Copenhagen icon and major attraction for Asian tourists. It's kind of interesting how much vandalism she's been the victim of, though, like her head's been sawed off and stolen twice, her right arm was sawed off but returned again, she's had paint dumped over her twice, been dressed in a burka and, more recently, a muslim dress and a few years ago for International Women's Day she had a dildo strapped to her hand.

diamonds in the dark

We would have little children
we would be together forever
we would live on the Delancy Street
then you cut your hair
and it ended there Mystery Jets

On the night of Halloween

the boarding school had a King's party.
It was a combination of good music for dirty dancing,
drunkness off free beer, creepy people still in costumes,
and everybody being very hungover at breakfast the next morning.

The following Sunday

our hall was a mess. It was so disgusting. The
King's club is in the basement of A Hall - my hall - and
so people find it nice and convenient to go upstairs and use
our bathrooms in their drunken states. One thing is waking
up to pee all over the toilet seats and a devastating lack of
toiletpaper, but we basically spend the day cleaning three pools
of non-vegetarian puke up with mops and poor gag-reflex faces. Yummay.

In the evening

we all gathered in the tea room around the lit fireplace
with cups of hot chocolate and too many marshmallows for words.
It was all very cosy, listening to scary stories about the boarding
school ghosts and several suicides that have been going on here for
the last forty years. I got so freaked out that I really couldn't get myself
to go to my room and slept - so when a movie was playing in the basement
theatre and all the people from my hall were going, I went, because I'm
lame and figured that everything beats sitting alone in an empty room. Big
mistake. We watched A Tale of Two Sisters which was some scary scary
shit and afterwards I went to my room and my tv turned on by itself with
white noise and grey/white flickerings! Now my tv lives with my next-door
neighbour. If she dies soon I will probably have to flee the country.