One Outfit, Two Photos

New fur hat + old maxi coat + open toed shoes that are crap in the rain.  Oops.

Blah-blah-blahing.

This new hat (Thanks, Acne Archive!) is my Russian Pope Good Witch Fur Butt Hat.

Reading

What's for dinner?

Reading rubs.

The Haps in Stockholm

So many things!  Here are some photos to keep you in the loop.

Moving always brings a mini-heartbreak or two.  Bye-bye, owl cup.

I have started taking sneaky photos of the flours at the health food store so I can go home and decipher what they actually are.  Eating gluten-free is easy at restaurants, but tricky at the store as the language is entirely new to me.  So far I know that "vete" = "wheat."  It's a start.

A sleepy gate at Arlanda airport.  The airport reminds me lots of Port Columbus Airport.  (See how I left out the "International" from its name?  I know, that was rude.)  Except that it's in Scandinavia.  Hmm.

We read this as "Skank-ar Kate."  And we laughed and laughed.  

No nudie photos inside, I can report.

This bingo board is our apartment building's laundry reservation system.  It had me beat a few weeks ago, until I realized I was trying to move someone else's number.  Whoops.

Marj came to visit!  Did I mention that?  We have been so lucky to have friends already visit us.  

The weather was sort of crappy, so we did a boat tour of the archipelago.  

And then Leila came to visit, for a last-minute weekend.  Here she is with B, wondering wherever are our "pig chips."

Here they are!  Oh boy, this treat was off the Delicious-Meter!  We felt better about ourselves eating what the restaurant dubbed "pig chips" instead of "pork rinds."  Crispy skin is pretty delicious no matter what you call it.  

Leila snapped this one of our little gypsy family.  Oh boy, is Cochino a pro at this.  

Winding down a weekend of shopping and fun with Leila.  

My Window

My writing window, I mean.  I tried to pry it open last night--and the night before, but gave up without much effort.  Because I know that if I have to force it open, I'm not going to like what's on the other side.

It's just, I haven't been in the mood much lately.  M was in town visiting us from the States last week, so it was an all-out binge.  I'm talking elk sausage and Beef Rydberg (holy hell, it's like gourmet breakfast--for dinner!), veal meatballs, and some deer something or other at a Viking-themed restaurant... and enough wine to wash it all down.  I am still blimped out, despite being on a relative detox this week.

But back to the writing mood.  I am hoping it will hit just about when the winter weather does.  I'm anticipating blogging like crazy while it is cold and dark outside.  Sounds nice, right?

It's funny because I write this blog a bunch in my head, but it always happens when I'm on the metro or at work or in the shower or something.  That's when the words come and line themselves up on their own, so that the phrasing is perfect and I'm the funniest person in the world.  I think, yeah, I'll pop that on the blog later.  Good job, Jode!  But when it's later and I'm home from work, sitting in front of my laptop on the coffee table, I'm wondering what it was exactly I had wanted to put down.  Or if I remember what it was, I can't string it together in a meaningful way anymore.  And that's when I close up shop and put on some Mad Men (season 5 finale is tonight chez moi!) and hope that I'll feel more inspired tomorrow evening.

It makes me think of some advice Anne Lamott gave in her book Bird by Bird (which I read so many years ago and lent to someone who never returned it... boo) to always carry index cards with you to write down phrases as you think of them or dialogue as you overhear it or whatever.  Fumbling with index cards during a moment of inspiration sounds like a real pain in the ass (especially in this age of techno-gadgetry... I'll bet there's some damn device that can record what I'm thinking while I'm thinking with no effort on my part by now... right?).  But it's the idea of always having something at the ready to record your creative moments.  Because once they pass, they are often gone for good.  Or they never reappear in their initial brilliance, anyway.

It's like the watered down drink you find on your coffee table the morning after a great party.  It was such a good idea at the time, in the moment, but now you wonder what possessed you to mix it... and why you thought it was a good idea to get out the Kahlua.  You question how this milky watery mess ever made sense to you, much less was appealing.  Yeah, that's how it goes with my blog pops, too.  Did I really crack myself up over hearing two different radio stations across my work department morph into Kate Bush singing "This Woman's Work," when it was actually like, Robyn on on side and Skrillex on the other?  Or some shit?  Yeah, I did.  And see, it doesn't hold anymore.  Stupid Kahlua.

So here's hoping my writing window glides right open when the season goes south.  My literal windows will remain firmly shut however.  It's gonna be cold out there.

One Outfit, Four Photos

Today's dress was a score from yesterday's visit to the employees-only store at my work, wherein you (if you are an employee, duh) can buy things for as little as 1 euro.  This dress, 1 euro.  I don't know if it was or will be in the store and I am trying to come correct on collecting cheap clothes anymore, but what can I say?  The fuzzy brushed lace spoke to me and it looked about my size and, well, next thing I knew I had a new dress.

Dress, H&M.

Tights H&M.

Cardigan, old Gap.

Necklace, made by Glendon.

Boots, I forget.

While I was photographing, this frenzy was taking place.  Apparently fuzzy lace gets someone else going, too!

One Outfit, Two Photos

I am in love with this color combo.  I did not want to take this off.

Really, I don't think the photos do it justice.

Dress Cos, Cardigan vintage Adolfo, Tights H&M, Shoes Opening Ceremony.

New Boots

A Swedish winter involves preparation.  I am still looking for the PERFECT winter coat  (I have found warm, yes... but stylish, not yet...), but at least I have found my winter boots.

These are Sven Clogs.  I know, I know, I went all the way to the US to buy some Swedish clogs, but the lovely people at Sven custom make the clogs just for you, so you can play with the colors/leathers as you like.  I went for black shearling with blue backs and some disco gold highlights.  (The "belts" are removable and will likely not be worn.)  I sent them an outline of my feet so that the fit would be perf, and let me tell you, they were like a dream from the moment I put them on.  (Let's not talk about the fact I am in a size 42 base, though.  These clogs be tranny sized!)

The boots are well-made and weatherproof, as is I can wear them in the rain and snow.  Perfect, right?  Oh, and I can roll down the tops for some shearling flair.  These boots put Uggs to shame.  Why do those things even exist??

Go on, make your own boots here!