I went to Stockholm but it didn't turn out the way I expected... Linn couldn't go to Hootchy Kootchy because she had to work, but she went out with me on the Thursday instead of Caroline who had become sick. We ended up at the sleazy bar we love best. Her friends were going to come but they never showed up. And then Linn had to go home. Some other people took me under their wings. One of them fell deeply in love with me... Or rather, she wanted to have sex with me.

Her friend wanted to follow this guy who had a studio, he was a total asshole, trying so badly to be cool. Aaaah, talk to the hand! He hated me too, ha ha. Then I threw up on the sidewalk. Talk about making an impression. The girl had to follow her friend because you can't let a friend go alone with a "guy with studio", ha ha. She asked for my number but she didn't call. Maybe it's for the best. When it comes to girl sex, you can't just lay back and think of England. I'm going to be the next virgin Mary...



I went out the next day again. I tried to party with a cat I met in a park, but he was a bit restless. I went to my favourite club and had a great time, howled along in London Calling and danced with a guy who did badass ice-skating moves with me. I screamed, ha ha.



I don't know if this blouse is horrible or not... Maybe horrible in the right kind of way?

Then one of the bouncers told me to get out and get some fresh air. I should know what that means by now, but nooo. Anyway, they wouldn't let me in again, told me to go home. But I had to get my bag and my jacket back. They were like "It's not our problem, you don't know where it is anyway, and we have other things to do than to look for your stuff". What the hell? Now they were just being evil.

So I stood there for a while, trying to look innocent and relaxed, and then I just ran for it, threw myself through the door. GERONIMO! Unfortunely I fell down the stairs and hit my head. They found me on the loo. "I'm trying to pee here" I said. They let me do that. Then they told me that I should go to the hospital to get stitched up. Now they were almost acting human. Weird. "Was it worth it?" one of them asked. "I don't think like that" I said. It's true. At least more often than not. Why the hell should I regret that or anything else? I spent the night at the hospital, waiting for my turn. The nurses were on a strike, lucky me. Finally they stitched me up and I was free to go at 8 in the morning.





The last of April is a big deal in Uppsala. Which means insane amounts of alcohol and teenagers lying passed out in the parks, or something like it. Pathetic. I met up with J-Lo and some other people from school. They had started drinking at 11 in the morning. I wasn't really up for anything like that. But I had some wine and had fun.

Although I started to feel quite bitter and pissed off. I wasn't that comfortable with those people. Hell, they can be a pain in the ass. Friends are supposed to support you, not put you down. I love harsh jokes but there are some buttons you shouldn't push. And you should damn well learn what those buttons are when you get to know people. I just felt that I wanted to be somewhere else, that this was superficial and stupid. I just wanted a hug.



They're blonde... What can I say?

I should have stayed at home when they went out, because I was terribly sober (almost), hungry and felt sick. I went out anyway. We went to this horrible mainstream place that gave me the creeps. And the others were a pain in the ass because they were drunk. Nothing worse than people telling you to "cheer up". I threw up instead. I forced myself. And my stomach felt a bit better so I didn't want to die anymore. Then I lost everyone.

Malin found me and started dragging me around, digging her long sharp fingernails into my shoulder whenever she wanted my attention. She asked me if I didn't want to flirt with some guys. She thought she should teach me. I wanted to run away screaming. People say that alcohol leads to violence, but try going out sober and see if you can stay away from killing someone.

J-Lo was pathetic and wanted to pick a fight with some guys, but we managed to get him out. Then Malin realised that she had hung her jacket on the same hanger as a girl in our company, who was no longer with us. So we needed to find her before we could go home. It took like 30 minutes. Stupid!!! Then J-Lo and Malin wanted to go to another place, the rest of us went to eat something and then we had to call J-Lo and beg him to take us home. But they had to finish their beers first. Oh, the pain...

We watched Battlestar Galactica the next day. I got seriously hooked up. I borrowed the disc set and watched the whole season except two episodes on the train home. Now I'm downloading the second season until I catch up with the reruns on TV. Well, it's nice to have something to live for...



Starbuck is my new role model.



And what can I say about Lee Adama? Well... HE'S HOT!

I FEEL GOOD, NA NA NA NA NA NA NAAAAH...

I've got a ticket for NICK CAVE! Turns out that Jelena is going too with her, em... Friend? Caroline claims that it's her boyfriend but in that case she hasn't told me, ha ha. Anyway, this could be a great fucking concert. The Cure was a disappointment because, well, I don't like their pop shit. I'm more into Faith and Pornography. Cave's new album isn't fantastic, but he will sure have time for some fantastic songs as well. I'll keep my fingers crossed...



Animal liberation for mom's rabbit...

I sort of wrecked my parents' car. Well, at least a bit... I was going to turn it around and I was too damn cocky for my own good. I'm a dumbass, I just think "What the hell, this ain't so hard" and do stupid things. Always. It's just that since I'm known to be lousy at turning cars around, I sometimes get this urge to prove myself, and I want to believe I'm better than I am and get cocky. NOT a good idea. If you want to make a good job, take a deep breath and fucking CONCENTRATE! If you just rush ahead, you will just screw up again. I need to remember that.

Anyway, I felt kind of lousy so I took a sip of absinthe, just a little, but I could feel the poison going straight into my veins and just felt so damn calm. Then I fell asleep and when I woke up the car was fixed. Turned out it wasn't as bad as it had looked. It was just a lamp that needed to be changed, and then there were some scratches but it's not like my parents care, the car is just a thing you use to get from point A to point B. I can't even wreck things properly, ha ha.



Working at the carwash... WTF?

I've been to the second meeting of the writing course, it was great this time. Last time I felt nervous because it was the first time I returned to the school where I met Davis, and now I was writing about him. I didn't know if the teacher would remember him. But she did, she asked me afterwards if it was about him. And now it doesn't feel weird anymore, though I'm baring it all writing about his death. It just feels great to share, actually. You can always pretend that it's all fiction. You always have to do that as a writer, that's the first thing you learn.

I walked by Davis' old apartment, but I really didn't feel that much. Not anymore. I guess I've stopped chasing around after him in all those different places. I've come to rest now, knowing that all that matters is what I have inside me, my memories. And I love him more than I ever did, it sure hurts but I'm also happy. And perhaps I've come to accept the answers I have inside me as well, not looking for answers where they can't be found. Or perhaps I've just learned not to dig around in that shit anymore... Do you go on or do you just forget?



A pic of the castle him and me built together once... Kind of cute. It's Dracula's castle, of course.

We went out in the evening and got drunk, one guy in my group bought everyone beer all night long. He quit as head of security at Arlanda airport ten years ago, and he's still living off the money they gave him to keep quiet. Or something. Gertrud, the teacher, told me that I was a genius and that people would pay to hear me rant while drunk. Ha ha... She told me to go to this release party of a feminist magazine and tell them that I should write columns for them. So that's what I will do tomorrow. Maybe after a few beers...



Status quo has been all right now for a while, I've been like "Yeah, I'm gonna apply for a job, maybe tomorrow...". Now it turns out that the collective The white horse (no, they're not doing smack ) wants me to move in there after all. Although it's only for two months. I thought that I would just give it a shot, and here I am, I've accepted the offer. It's not that I would mind just hanging around all summer, but I'm nervous I won't get a job when I really need it. I have called the chimney sweeping firms that are within commuting distance from the house, but they don't need an apprentice. OK, I have like two left to call, but still. Maybe I could get a job further away and borrow the car from work...



One of the cats and the house in the background (yep it's a wreck but who cares?)

Anyway, fuck being worried, it will be great fun to finally live in a collective. I have to think about my social life as well, not just the damn money. Now I'll finally have a chance to get to know some people... I will live in a nice little room up on the attic, they have three wonderful cats and lentils and beans and all sorts of stuff are included in the rent. YAY FOR ME!



Amadeus thinks he's a rabbit. He eats vegetarian meatballs as well. Stupid...

Musical mysteries that have been solved lately: The Nick Cave song in which a horse dies is The hammer song. Also I've found out that the line "It looks like Bernadice has finally left her cake out" from Priscilla, queen of the desert, is a reference to the hideous song MacArthur park sung by Richard Harris. Good God, don't tell me it's the same guy who played Dumbledore?

Here's my new set, now go have a look and tell me how much it sucks.

http://suicidegirls.com/members/Teyla/albums/site/5292/

I've had some fun lately. I visited Linn at her house in the woods. She practically asked me to move in there, and yeah, I thought about it, but... I want to live in Stockholm. Sure, I could stay in her house for a while and just hang out whilte trying to get back to Stockholm. But I don't mind being with my parents and my cat either. Well, perhaps we're better apart. It's weird that I used to hate her. And she never knew what was wrong. But I have to follow my feelings and my current feelings towards here are that I like her, so there you go. She's quit drinking by the way. Just like that. Good for her but bad for me. But she'll still join me to the Hootchy Kootchy Club.



FUN FUN FUN!



Fuck you Astrid Lindgren!



I'm such a dork.



I was at a network meeting for female chimney sweeps this weekend. It was great to meet others, although surely they thought I was weird. I felt a bit out of place. We're only like 25 females out of 1400 chimney sweeps in Sweden, that's just... Well. You can't see the forest for all the cocks! They talked about how they always had to work harder and show that they were just as good, that customers used to be assholes, the guys at work who didn't even look up to say hi... Hell, I've had enough trouble coping with the work itself, I don't need that sexist crap on top of that. Well, we had some beers in the eveining and had a good time. This weird reggae/ska/salsa band played in the bar, it was the greatest thing I've ever heard. I even got up and danced, shy as I am. It neraly killed me. One of them knew Nemesis and Sugar, apparently well enough to know they were SG:s. And she didn't like it. Ha ha... I tried my best to spread the love but it's hard to convert people while being drunk.





Hungover at the hotel room, a pathetic sight indeed.

Next day I went looking for my driving license renewal form in my old mailbox in the industrial area where I used to live before I got fired. But it wasn't there. Then I was going to take the commuter train and was accused for faking my sms ticket. I don't like getting shit when I've actually paid. Then I met up with Caroline, we were going to see a movie. First we were kidnapped by some people who wanted us to take a servey about different mobile brands. I didn't know what to say, I don't know shit about new technique. My mobile phone belongs in a museum. That's how bad it is.

As if that wasn't enough, Carolines mother called and was angry that she had wrecked the computer. Or rather, the computer wrecked itself while she happened to sit in front of it. So she had to come home and fix it. She didn't dare to take me home either. But I had nowhere to sleep. It was really weird. I mean, I can imagine that her mother is a bit bitchy, but she's not a monster. Well, I ended up booking a bed at a hostel on a ship.

Then I went to look at this collective house. I was there a year ago and thought it was paradise on earth. Now I wasn't that sure. I felt kind of ignored. They didn't really interview me, it was a bit weird. And it's only for two months so it's not really worth it. If I get it I have to look for a job nearby and stuff. It's really best to find a job first and then find a place to stay. What the hell.

It was really a bliss to have a bed to sleep in, I had dreaded to have to go out to a club and then trying to find an afterparty. Now I was free to sleep. It's sort of nice to be a tourist in your own city. The next day I went attack shopping. It was a hit and run, short and painless. Yay!



View from the window.



Let's search and destroy, shall we?

I should look for a job, especially as I know where to look. But it's kind of nice to hide away here with my family instead of sticking my ass out there and get rejected. It's nice to get a job, but then you'll have to keep it, and even if you do you will make a shitload of mistakes and make a fool out of yourself sooner or later. I'm so fucking sensitive, damn it.

I try to stop looking at boring sets, but it's easier said than done. I end up looking at most sets if they are not utter garbage. I feel like Simon Cowell. "That was just forgettable!" A while ago I almost had an allergic reaction to all the boring boring boring bed sets that went up. But I should be thankful, it's not as if I'm losing control of my favourites since they are so few. There have been some great sets lately too of course. Beau, Annika, Nixon, Annisa, Steller, Bexi... Hope that Nemesis' latest set goes live.

Tomorrow at the writing meeting people will tell me how great I am, and then I'll say "Well thank you, you suck!" God, I feel bitchy and whiny today...



THE RETURN OF THE EVIL HAIRDO!

What can I say? This was going to be a happy, "I kick ass" kind of blog entrance. But now it's not. When I finally take the time to update, I'm back to the same self-pitying, loser me.

I had it all going, really. I finally got my driver's license, on Januari 10. After three tries I finally made it. I graduated from the Swedish Rescue Service Agency on January 25, and just a week later I got a job as a chimney sweep. Guess how long I lasted? Three weeks.

The worst thing is that I loved it. I seriously wanted to work there until the day I died. The guys were so damn nice to me. When we worked overtime at the chocolate factory, we drank beer, stole some chocolate and played poker on the internet. They called me Dory, after the fish in Finding Nemo, because I had no sense of location. Now, why joke about that if they think it's so serious they later fire me?

I always got the impression that they would keep me if I wasn't a royal fuck-up. They said to me that I was doing a good job, and always made me think that my flaws could easily be fixed. Yes, they told me to get better at some things, but never did they threaten to fire me if I didn't. When they fired me they said they had really high demands, but they had never made that clear. They actually said that they had never fired anyone. Now, that turned out to be a lie. Or was it a lie that I wasn't the first one to be fired? Who the fuck knows?

No wonder I felt they cheated me. The last Monday (I was fired on Thursday) I was feeling down and paranoid, feeling that I just would fuck things up. The guy I was working with told me to cheer up, that I hadn't killed anyone's cat or messed someone's living room up with soot and ash. That I could make as many mistakes that I wanted, that I was on my way to learn and that I wouldn't be working alone until summer anyway. That I couldn't be expected to be excellent at dealing with customers since I never had had a job like this before. His only worry was my driving. Not driving forward, mind you, but backwards…

We also made tools for me that day. "Soon you will have your own tools to work with" they said. The next day the boss was there and asked me about my broken fridge. They said that I would move to my new apartment (one of the guys had a cousin who was going to rent out her apartment) in two weeks time, but that I needed a new fridge before then. "She will be able to rent it for one to two years, so by then she should have found a place of her own" they said. Two days later - FIRED. As soon as they said "We want to have a talk with you" I knew I was fucked.

Is it so weird that I hate them now? Normal people don't act like this, and I just don't get it. I wasn't the one bringing the future up. It was they who always talked as if they wanted me to stay, the most extreme examples stated above. My only explanation is that something happened, something they didn't want to tell me. Maybe they have hidden motives. Otherwise - I just don't fucking get it.

There was no way I could say everything I wanted to say. My voice didn't even hold after a while. I went out to the car, got out on the highway, and I cried and screamed all the way home. Their words were echoing in my head. Not enough social skills? Fuck you, I've been social handicapped for 20 years, but not anymore. I'm not afraid anymore. I have fought my way up and gotten so fucking far, I'm damn proud and if it's not enough for them, it will be for someone else, so fuck them. But I didn't think like that then. I truly felt worthless, felt that there wasn't a point in trying since I would never be able to give what was asked of me, that I might as well die. The thought of spending the night alone in my cold apartment was more than I could stand. I just wanted to get home.

But I managed to get to the store to get pizza, candy and a movie, and then I just got my shit together. Litteraly. I packed all my stuff, took down the pinup posters, the anarchy flag, the Boys don't cry poster and all the others shit on my walls. Then it was all empty, but I didn't care. I had already left.

I had chosen to work the next day, I just wanted to say farewell, I guess. Not to those bastards, but to the rooftops. It was truly depressing, knowing that this was it. At least the supervisor fell down from the roof, got hanging upside down and fell down into a flower bed. But alas, I wasn't outside to see it. We had lunch, and they bought me pizza. As if that would help.

I just left with my head held high, with my life packed in a backpack and two enormous paper bags. It felt good, actually. I felt like a god damn fucking bohemian, sitting there on the train station, fired, dirty and - free. Somehow it felt good to be back to being a slacker, dressed in a mini skirt and a leather jacket. It's so much easier being punk when you don't have a job.

But really, this sucks. I can't begin to explain how much it sucks. They didn't even give me two weeks notice as the law requires, so I didn't have a chance to look for a room to rent (The apartment belonged to the firm). Now I'm back with my parents in the fucking woods, three hours away from Stockholm. I have no friends here so I'll just have to play with myself, ha ha. I'm looking for a new job, but it isn't easy when you've had a kick in the guts like that. I know I'm not worthless, but what if everyone else thinks that? And all my friends got hired after their internships, the bosses bought them presents and what do they have that I haven't got? Fuck it.

At least I'm not broke, but I will be if I continue shopping like this. I've bought LOADS of Gary Oldman movies. Too bad you can't get hold of Chattahooche in Sweden. Gary as a Korean veteran who ends up in a mental asylum, full frontal nudity too... My god, I'v such a perv.

Rest in peace, chimney sweep...











Now, I didn't sign up for plumbing!



My so called home.



Women's lib day was... Interesting.



On the central station waiting for the train that will take me away to... Nothing.

Testing testing...

I'm sick of dour faces staring at me from the TV tower...

It's depressing really, all those plans that turn into nothing. I thought I was going interrailing this summer, but in the end I couldn't stand to spend all that money. I ended up going to Berlin.

I mean, you have a problem if the funniest thing you do on your trip is to go to a concentration camp. I went to Sachsenhausen the first day. It was really good, the guide was great and cute too, ha ha. Then it all went downhill. It took me forever to find my hostel. Then I went to a gay discoteque that really sucked. What happened to Gloria Gaynor? And while some people may enjoy watching muscular young men in white tank tops, I really don't. I want drag queens! I almost fell asleep on the dance floor. I hadn't been able to sleep on the train the night before, and now I just couldn't take it anymore.

Next day there was the fuck parade and a gay park party in Friedrichshain. That's when I started to get really depressed. Why the fuck did I go there? Watching other people having fun is NOT FUN. I felt the familiar feeling of being on the outside, looking in. Not really belonging anywhere, known by no one. No wonder, I was in Germany. But it's the same thing back home...

I soon left the park, trying to find the subway while I listened to Nine Inch Nails and got lost in my own psychedelic nightmare. All the shit had just come up to the surface, all the fear was left loose. Fear that I might be broken inside somehow, that I would never be able to love anyone again and never find a life that I wanted, perhaps I needed to die... I won't say it was stupid, because it was real there and then.

Then I got really hungry and felt like throwing up. Drinking alcohol seemed to be out of the question. The night was hell, I started thinking about going home, but how could I do that? I had planned to go to the Kit Kat club that night, though I hardly looked forward to it. There is a difference between fantasy and reality, after all. Maybe I would have ended up thinking I wanted something I didn't really want. Maybe I should be really thankful that I just went to bed instead.

I didn't want to call my mum, but she called me the next day and that didn't really help. I spent the day crying in the streets, not really knowing where I was going. I didn't know what to do, one minute I felt that I just had to go home, the next I told myself that I had to stay, that it would work out. Then I cried a bit more because I couldn't make up my mind. Because I felt lonely and pathetic, because my boyfriend was dead, because one day I wouldn't even have a mum to call anymore, because I needed a hug and no one in this damn country could give me that, and because I couldn't stand the thought of eating Döner falafel for the rest of the week. I mean, it tastes like fish!

In the end, I bought a bus ticket back to Sweden. It must have been the right thing to do, because I stopped crying. I decided to make a final stand and get a bit drunk. Everything was so much easier now when this was my last night. I went to Wild at heart with a couple of Danish guys. I had a really great time. Nothing extraordinary, but still...

It felt kind of humiliating to come home, but in the end it felt good. To sleep in my own bed, to eat pizza and watch Friends, just being safe. Travelling is mostly a struggle for survival. You don't understand what the fuck people say, you have to survive on crappy food and you won't have much fun without meeting people, but I have to get drunk for that, and that you can't do if you're too hungry or too tired. And a good night's sleep won't do you much good, because walking the streets in the summer sun will kill you anyway. Why can't life just be simple for me? I just worry about everything. No wonder I need to drink.

And I'm scared about moving tomorrow. School starts on Monday, and I'm just not ready for it. Today's been a horrible day, I've just felt weak and scared and small. I'm on medication again, and it makes my body feel so weak and sick. I didn't dare to start school without meds, but they make things worse just when you start taking them so maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all. Fuck, I want real drugs. A cannabis plant has mysteriously appeared outside my parents' window, but someone told them it's not the kind you can smoke. Life just ain't fair.