Yet another book

Sometimes I come across books that are so good I wish I had read them the moment they got published and in that spirit I will mention one book here before I’ve even finished reading it. The book I “talk” about today has been waiting for me since (as fare as I can figure) 2004, but the stories in it have been waiting longer, some of them as long as half a century. I, of course, borrowed my copy from the library and I was surprised to find a copy seemingly untouched by human hands. I cannot for the life of me understand why this book have been a secret, but maybe all the wise guys and girls bought it to place in their bookshelf, which of course is an action I find very agreeable. The book is a compilation of short stories by one of the best American writers last century and for those of you who follow my blog on a sort of regular basis, it should come as no surprise that I am talking about Truman Capote. The book is titled The complete stories of Truman Capote. Buy it, borrow it, steal it, I don’t care. Just read it.

The truth for once

So I’ll be honest. What I am trying to do is hard. And more over, being honest and all, I am quite sure that I will fail miserably. And even adding to this, I will fail over and over again. There are many out there who will say and have said, that you’ll make it, give me the good old pep talk. The truth is neither you nor I know that. This is a blind leap of faith (or stupidity, if there is a difference between the two) over or into the abyss. That’s the thrill of it all. But I will fail, of that I am certain.

Why mention this now? Why all this talk about failing? I guess everything have to come to an end and seeing bankruptcy coming closer, but still not completely eminent, every day is a constant reminder that I am once again running out of time and that I soon has to return to my other life and my other job. I must say I do feel the pressure for some sort of success, some sort of hard evidence that this was indeed a correct choice, though actually I should have no need for justification at all because I have enjoyed this time. I guess that is what should matter the most.

To close these ramblings: is this a depressing sob story or will it end well? I don’t know the answer to that. I only know this: I have failed a thousand times before. If I ever believed in failing I would never be where I am to day. Because it has never been about how many times I have failed. It has always been about hanging in there and not giving up. So for all of you out there who are wondering how the writings are going I will tell you the truth for once: I have no idea. I can only tell you this: I haven’t resigned yet.

I got facebooked

So, like pretty much everybody else, I got facebooked. Time passes very fast.

Book recommendations

Yeah. Life is good or bad or what ever. I thought I should write some book recommendations again. One real American classic, a philosophical novel from 1943 by Ayn Rand called The Fountainhead, and another American book called Music for Chameleons, which is a collection of both fiction and none-fiction texts by Truman Capote. Don’t be too scared about the length of The Fountainhead (752 pages long). It’s both entertaining and meaningful at the same time, which is a rare commodity indeed. I couldn’t put the book down. None of them, actually.

Disaster

Okay, so this is quite embarrassing. I’ve spent some time trying to figure out a good cover story, but the true story is like this: I was out jogging. I was coming to the end of my run so of course I was speeding up to use the last remaining energy. I was running really fast. Like a cat through the dark and this is an important point and I cannot stress it enough: It was VERY dark. As dark as it gets. Anyways, I was running along with the speed of light and I figure I should blame the city of Oslo for what happened really, because they had turned off the street light and don’t maintain the roads properly. Okay, so I trip in a hole in the road and off I went. You remember that I was running very light-speedy-fast? Now I’m sort of doing the same thing except it is more or less some sort of flying. It is all going so fast that I don’t really have time to think of much at all, but if I had had the time, I think I would have thought something like this: “I have not fallen like this for twenty years. I am no longer qualified. I no longer possess the skill to fall like this without causing serious damage (read: pain) to the body.” Did I remember to say that I was running down hill? Hm. I guess I wasn’t running anymore at this point. I go on my hands and knees, leaving as much skin as possible behind, and I do remember this thought quite vigorously: “Not the face! Not the face!” It was a good thought. Finally I stop. I am still alive, but my glasses are broken and there is a lot of blood in odd places. I hump myself home and realize that I have to go to the emergency room where a surgeon can remove the rocks that have embedded themselves into my body. Joy.

Breaking down my reader

So I got real excited the other day. Out of nowhere I provoked a comment out of my reader. Can you feel my excitement? Out there, there is somebody reading my blog. Wonderful wonderful people. You feel my excitement now, doncha? So driven by this pulsating enthusiasm I signed up for google analytics so I could really start understanding what his (no I'm not a sexist, he has a male name, if you bother to check the comment) interests are. You know stuff like: "Which links does he press?", "Where does he leave my site and why? (WHY??!)" The good old clique-flow analysis. Get the basic break down of my user demographic. It feels so good just to be able to write a sentence like that. I'm not sure what it means, but it does feel wonderful to write. Can you feel my enthusiasm? Can you feel me?? Anywho, I'll let you know how it goes.

PS! So I guess I'm lying. It is all part of that 10 - 20 % lies thing. The thing is that I met my reader on the street a couple of weeks back, so I guess I already knew about him.

Meta

I had a great plan for what I was to write on Sunday (in this blog, that is), but things went terribly wrong. First I was to include this great picture taken by Andreas:

Then I was to write about how I got completely hammered Saturday night and did a lot of very (allegedly) stupid things that I could not write on the Internet for the obvious reasons. Then the plan was to conclude that I from now on should dedicate this blog to commenting the weather only. You know, to keep it safe and not say anything that could offend anybody or more importantly hurt me or my future career and stuff like that. Sorry to say I did not get hammered Saturday night, and I didn't do anything stupid. So nothing is new, really. I guess that is part one of this meta thing.

Second, I figure that I should write something about writing and all that. I've dedicated August to reading through and fixing my work so fare. It truly is a painful process. I think I am the hardest critique ever. All that once looked fresh and exciting has become old cliches and dead words. I tell you: It is no fun. It's just plain old hard work. I am looking forward to start writing on something fresh again. Two and a half weeks to go. God have mercy.

Yeah yeah...

Turban returns

I should apologize to all my wonderful regular readers. I’ve not been a great blogger lately. The last two weeks I’ve been on holiday and before that I was working, I guess.

I spent five days at the lovely Quart festival as usual. It was better than ever. Better food. Everything was nicer. And the drink – none drink fences was long gone replaced by a bracelet. The music was of course also great. No surprise there.

I’ve taken a thousand pictures of different bands on stage. Since I just came back, I haven’t had the time to look through them, but I guess they are pretty boring like holyday pictures usually are. Maybe I will post some highlights later. Here you go, a thousand pictures from my vacation. Enjoy. Maybe not? I’ll save them for close friends and family. The poor bastards! ;-)

I beefed up my home insurance before I left, but no thieves found their way to my apartment. I guess that’s good news for me as well as them. I’m sure they would have been quite disappointed. So you stay away now, you hear! Seriously. Money is always a concern. Every month I do my accounting. How long can I hang on without making any money? That’s the big question. I haven’t done June yet and I’m already halfway into July, I think. Oslo – Kristiansand return ticket by buss was cheap. 300 NOKs. The taxies in Kristiansand were another matter. I learned to appreciate the fact that I usually can walk home in Oslo. Life in Kristiansand without a car is no fun. Public transportation in the summer holiday is so so. So I do my accounting and I do my linearization and predict my bankruptcy. I await the catastrophe that will mess up everything. Pluming going to h… or some major electrical fault or something else that will halt my writing quest. Anyways. I’ve returned. There is more to come.

Fat weekend

Low fat. No fat. Sugar free. Low carb. Tasteless food. I've been on diet for something that feels like eternity. I'm fed up, to put it that way. Thursday I also put my book on a diet removing an entire chapter. These two things brought what I like to call a fat weekend on. Fat in size and fat in content. It included Friday, Saturday and Sunday and ice cream, big burgers, snacks and beers. A fat weekend is a good weekend. Now I feel both fat and inspired. Let the fat diet week begin!

The unfaithful sun has also come for a visit. Hopefully she will stay for a while. Anyways, I celebrate this summery event by including some pictures of yesterdays walk with Andreas the photographer. You'll see a couple of pictures of Andreas and a royal guard. Then there is a picture of people in the park and a picture of Andreas in Café Sara’s back yard. Enjoy!