Flu stilleben

Day 5 of the flu, succeeded in walking to ICA. A collection of things I could possibly consider eating despite pervasive nausea. The 'cheese cake' is particularly interesting, normally I wouldn't eat this even if someone gave it to me for free, because it's, um. Disgusting?

(also, just realized it probably has gluten, which I didn't ever consider. Huh! Fever-fail)

Hypothesis: disproven

So I love my class, I really do (love my life also, incidentally, of which my class is a big part). Full of awesome, sweet, funny, interesting people. Even most of the people who keep to themselves are turning out to be lovely people. Some are crazy (love them too). I get out-geeked constanstly in the tech and programming arena, however.

And this is big.

None of them are sci-fi geeks. If premise 1 is programmer/tech geek and premise 2 is love of sci-fi, than this is a Venn diagram without an intersection. It's just so bizarre. I thought they didn't let you into programming courses without basic knowledge of some kind of space drama? I have to explain to people the difference between Star Wars and Star Trek.

Wrong. So wrong.

Also, t'is a bit sad. I still have no IRL people to squeal over sci-fi with. What will it take??

To be fair

Obsession may be further strengthened by my ice dancing obsession - my favourite ever ice dancing couple Marina Anissina and Gwendal Peizerat once danced to Time to Say Goodbye, also with Andrea and Sarah Brightman. I just listened to it on Spotify and cried.

God, I may have to find some youtube clips of them now! I hadn't even thought of this possibility! I heart Marina and Gwendal, aka the Russian princess and Sully (not that a name like Gwendal really needs a nickname, but he's like the ice dancing version of Dr Quinn's Sully, I swear (who in turn had the 'real' name Byron - dude!)) fiercely, despite them competing for France.
I need a new youtube obsession anyway, yesterday I finished watching 2,5 yrs Verbotene Liebe Chrolli backlog. Now I'm going to have to wait for new episodes to air. Unbearable.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BInmuBnSPcI
Spontanous post-watching thoughts: oh, so that's who can pull off a gold bodysuit? Also, the Japanese could rival the Canadian in cultural ownership of the 'eh'-ing

Andrea

I've been aware of Andrea Bocelli's existence at least since I was 6 years old. I have a very specific memory from pre-school class where we talk about the meaning of our names. As my second name is Andrea, I've always used him as an example, ie "it's a guy's name in Italy!" (when I was small I wanted it to be spelled Andreas, like the boys' name. I'm not going to even attempt to psychoanalyze this, I was 7).
Anyway, I didn't really realize he was blind until a few weeks ago when I saw him in an interview on this Swedish chat show. I've just assumed that the reason the guy has his eyes closed on his CD covers is because, dude, idk, he's in singing-ecstasy? (I sing, makes perfect sense to me)
Now when I hear him in Canto Della Terra it just totally fricking kills me. Feels like dying a little bit, but maybe of happiness? I may have to buy a CD or something, and suddenly I get what they were talking about on the show, the women who are obsessed with him. If someone can explain this sudden shift, please let me know.

Dear Thyroid

Please just die already. Am not enjoying my stints of - brace yourselves - Hashimoto's toxicosis. Mind you, before I figured out what it was I was panicking over my legs doing that twitchy spasmy restless thing again last week. But then I added it up to my rapid heartbeat and palpitations during same time period and voila!
Annoying but harmless stint of hyperthyreosis as my thyroid is in death throes.

The interesting/sad/pathetic part is actually that I have now found a reference that confirms that I could take some beta blockers to relieve the symptoms. I have beta blockers in my possession. However, on the odd chance that I get supermetabolism along with the other symptoms, I'm not actually sure if I want to take them... I've got holiday flab to loose! What's a few palpitations and tremors?
(these episodes could however go on for years before my thyroid dies, so I might revise this opinion)

Excuse me while I turn the fan on, elbows are sticking to the table.

The heat was marvellous over the weekend. I managed something so odd as a weekend that seemed to stretch on forever, however in a good way. Spent awesome day in Malmö with J on Saturday. On my way home I managed to greet our neighbours' house swap guests at the train, guide them in German, and came home only to arrive to another relative get-together. Sunday also seemed to incorporate several days. I managed to get proper sleep, squeeze in a few hours of work, go for a run, bbq, and introduce my parents to cream soda in a random 4th of July-inspired moment (we shared one 33cl can, sis, don't worry. They also sold vanilla and cherry coke and root beer at ICA in a special Americana display. Hmm). I also made some cut-offs.

It was fabulous. Now, will try to not disintegrate into sweat molecules or fall asleep and get some work done. Had the worst night's sleep in months last night due to heat and palpitations and all right. I may try some beta blockers just before bed, actually.

Warning!! Detailed discussions of themes that may be considered emo

So, last Friday one of the dreams I've had for oh about four months or so finally, FINALLY came true - Tokio Hotel live. My biggest hope for the concert was that Bill, who according to the CDs have a range with Mariah Carey-esque aspirations, would not suck too badly IRL. I've learned the hard way not to expect the same vocal prowess live as from recorded mediums (OK, I never saw Backstreet Boys live but they sang live on Söndagsöppet when I was about 11 or so and gosh was I horrified - I can still remember the disappointment like it was yesterday).
My second hope was that recent pictures of Bill were mainly PR-smokescreens for his fabulous new hairstyle which would look nothing like anything he's been sporting recently.

Was proved wrong Big Time on both accounts. Horrible, horrible oversized back-slick. I mean, I suppose I could accept it if he wanted to move away from the manga/porcupine/mohawk look I fell in love with as he's had it for quite some time. But this was NOT hot.
On the other hand, it turns out he can actually sing. Like, live. Very well. He hardly wrote down any songs, only one or two songs with incredibly high notes, both of which were not suited for standing still and singing, but required jumping around. Completely understandable. I was impressed.

Another cool thing about the concert was the fact that their set was like a tribute to the Star Trek movie First Contact, with a giant round Borg cube being the focal point. I actually read in one review that the 30m high steel construction should actually resemble the Death Star - but as Bill was dressed up as the Borg queen (...) I refute that statement. This has nothing to do with my aversion to Star Wars, obviously, but is rather the logical conclusion (live long and prosper). The projection in the background featured futuristic cityscapes which could have been borrowed straight from the SGA CGI library. Yes yes so their latest CD is on the futuristic theme but I didn't know that when I got hooked on Monsoon last October so it all pleased my little sci-fi heart to no end.

A fairly big disappointment for which I was prepared was the fact that the manager/band/tour planner was obviously not aware that as German is a very common second language-choice in school here, many Swedish fans prefer the songs in their original language. I base this not only on my own views but on the girl behind me who even though she was substantially younger than me (or shall I say, in the demographic group of 13-18yr olds that 99,5% of the audience belonged to) and may not even have had time to take any German in school exclaimed to her mother that she wouldn't know the lyrics in English. This meant that the high-pitched screaming was by far louder than the sing-along bits, which may be a curse for all bands who publish bilingually (with a target audience who squeals).
Anyway, this may have been a blessing to my dignity as I couldn't always sing along... But it was dark, and I don't know anyone in Gothenburg anyway and oh it would have been so much better in German! An additional minus with the English is the fact that Bill is not a competent English-speaker = practically non-existent between-song-chatter. I mean, this didn't bother me much but that's like the only direct communication line you'll ever have with the star as a fan, so it's a shame it was stilted.

Apparently to the reviewers the pyrotechnics were basic but they must be rather blasé I guess - I don't go to a lot of concerts so I thought it was pretty awesome. Two soundguys got to step into big seats of tech hoisted to the ceiling with wires - that was also awesome (made me briefly rethink career, was very Matrix-inspired).

To summarize, I'm thinking of removing myself from the FB group worshipping Bill's hair, but I'm actually a bigger fan of Bill as a person and as a singer than ever. So there. In indulging in one of my other big interests folk music I hang out with the age demographic 55+ so shouldn't this emo-activity put me somewhere in the middle, close to something normal?

Yeah, maybe not.

Celery as provocation

So, rant.

In a recent development, the consultants are now joining research at the lunch table (apparently an unprecedented event with no known origins).

Oh, heaps of fun! I can now be regaled with stories of force-feeding peking ducks and general statements of ridicule for eating my celery steak while completely sober. Previously this activity has been limited to offical events which are rare, and feature alcohol, thus enabling even me to be able to hold conversations about car prices and skiing resorts without actually dying of boredom. And also, to be heckled and take it with good humour or even give some back.

Oh woe is me for being the youngest employee. I just don't understand why people have to be dicks and go around spreading negative energy (she said in a huff, why can't everyone just be nice?).

A study in human pettiness

So. It's lovely for Planet Earth that Obama is dropping by Hopenhagen this week. Endorsement, bla bla bla. Personally I'm already dreading the day. Last time he stopped by it took 3,5h to get home. This time it's not even a Friday.

That's pettiness for you!!

In other news, today I ordered a math book. Like, I paid for it, so that I can study maths. For no particular reason but my own enjoyment. I've gotten this sad idea in my head that if I'd ever gotten some encouragement in maths I would have been much better at it. I recall it being quite fun at times. So I'm thinking that taking a crack at some C-level math on my own is either going to shatter this silly illusion or confirm my hypothesis that I'm some kind of dormant genius (or, at least, someone who could potentially actually do something for a living involving thinking in a science that is not entirely soft).

Also, xmas cheer levels rising steadily. Bought a CD this weekend that you can kind of sing along to. So if my math career goes bust I might follow up on the equally realistic notion that I'm actually a world-class soprano in the making.

End of an era

So. Apparently Sidney Sheldon was... a man? Did you know this? I never had a clue. I just assumed it was woman. This realisation has really shaken me up. It's like someone hit 'tilt left' or something.

OK no, maybe not, but I was very surprised!

So, update: apparently I can eat broccoli, cabbage, brassica family plants all I want as long as they are cooked. Phew! However... All kinds of tea have huge amounts of fluoride in them. Red, black, green, not much difference (slightly less in green, which I only make myself drink because it's supposed to be healthy anyway). I've already binned all my fluoride chewing gum and pills.

Some would say I could just up my levothyroxine levels to make up for the fact that I'm suppressing my thyroid with fluoride all day long, but instinctively that feels... wrong. I know tea is supposed to be good for you, flavonoids and antioxidants and what have you, but they also make your teeth very yellow and I'm thinking that my incessant tea-drinking might be a substitute for my desire to eat, and thus maybe I should try to veen myself off of it.

Incidentally, tea also inhibits the body's ability to take up iron, so if I now have to space out tea-drinking so as to not interfere with either medicine it actually gets a tad complicated. In addition, iron is one of the very very few things that interferes with levothyroxine. So I can't drink tea before or after levothyroxine or iron, and I can't take levothyroxine with my iron. Seriously, they recommend six hours in between the medicines, and at least two between tea and either medicine.
I suppose I could make a schedule and figure out when I can drink tea, but as I'm not supposed to take my iron if I've eaten lots of dairy for my meal I never know when I'm going to take it...
Complicated!!

Oh, speaking of that. When I went to the pharmacy to pick up my levothyroxine she had to ask me which of my medications it was I wanted to take out. That felt very odd.

Seriously, someone needs to get a life

Today is a struggle. Pondering, pondering, pondering. Life seems to lack purpose and direction. If anyone has any tips on how to stop thinking about these things, I welcome them (not organized forms of religions or anything illegal though).

I blame the subject of a recent post. One thing I have found which separates fantasy from sci-fi is that sci-fi tends to be dystopian to an alarmingly high degree. I don't nesseccarily mean that they all have unhappy endings, but they're certainly not Hollywood happy-endings. Someone gets revenge, or the girl, or the order of things is restored/justice is upheld (even though this may involve death of whole species, or main characters, or fairly depressing conclusions on mankind (and other kinds)). But certainly society is usually dystopian: corporations rule, police are usually the bad guys, there is in general no respect between human beings, the world is polluted and/or in ruins, etc etc. So when you leave a sci-fi novel, modern day life seems - not so bad. Police can usually be trusted, corporations can still successfully be sued on occasion when behaving badly, some people do have respect for other beings, only a few species are extinct etc etc. Your life is your own to spend as you like, huzzah!

Fantasy, on the other hand, is exactly what it sounds like. Happy endings. Justice means justice for individuals, not just, the world. The evil get what is coming to them. Everything is possible not by means of technology (to which there is always some limit), but by magic (which is also independant of monetary values). Climate - not an issue. Colours are brighter. Everyone has a purpose. The poor but of noble hearts get their reward, if not in money, then in happiness and contentment with this purpose (although quite often it is glory and wealth as well).

So returning to the real world is suddenly not so fun. Why would you want to live in a world without magic if you have to? Seriously, I have renewed understanding for teenagers who spend 18h a day in WoW or people who spend their weekends with roleplay events. Why would you read the news about terrorism and plague and war and work, work, work to sustaince this existance when you can hide in a world of magic? As long as you have something in 'reality' which is of intrinsic value, like family, or a purpose, love of any kind, etc, then returning is obvious. But if you don't? I can see why you would want to stay and hide.

Ehm, so. Maybe I should just turn this into a sci-fi blog? But I don't really like restricting myself that way.

On another important note, it is once again time for that incredibly important bi-yearly decision: is it time to leave the tinted moisturizer behind for foundation, or am I still not pale enough?
I tested yesterday and decided to give it another week or so (the same goes for the important 'Is it time to wear boots yet?' Q).