Tag: Petter

West coast to coast, GBG → SF

Mom brought me and Tomasz along with her and Jozef to San Francisco and then Hawaii, and I thought I’d sum up while I’m still here. I’m in full on vacation mode, and between driving around Oahu and laying on the beach, time sure flies. I haven’t been able to dive cause of a cold clogging up my head, but I did snorkel and see an underwater turtle. It was awesome. Other observations:

1) The IHOP doesn’t carry anything vegan except dry toast and lettuce. It might actually be for the better though, as I got to watch others pig out and didn’t hate myself afterwards.
2) Tofu is common, but even “very firm” varieties are watery. As I write this, it’s been frying for 30 minutes.
3) If you leave crisps out for an hour, the humidity will reconstitute them into potatoes, at least in Hawaii.
4) Saying “C’mon let’s go before we get sunburned” for an hour does not in fact stop you from getting burned.
5a) It takes three days before Speedo’s seem like dinner wear.
5b) Speedo’s, although tight fitting, do not stop sand from abrading your tender bits.
6) People really like to show of their military credentials. Like, really.
7) Waves are big as fuck in person. Thinking about dying is an interesting thing. Also, see “abrading” above.
8) People do the “hang loose” sing a lot, and they seem to be serious about it.
9) “Noisy” and “gargantuan” are selling points when buying cars.

We stopped by San Francisco on our way to Oahu and Petter met up with me and Tomasz for a days walking and sightseeing. Back when I went to New York I had the ambition to hang out in local bars and ordering coffee with the pronunciation I’ve heard from old Jewish ladies in sitcoms. In San Francisco I didn’t have any ambitions of my own, so was very happy to be guided around by Petter, who has gone completely native and is talking to everybody and everyone, embodying the concept of being friendly. It’s an astounding transformation, and one can only hope that he’ll bring some of that attitude back with him. In Gothenburg, he’ll be that really nice and talkative guy you will hear about. He’s still there for another week or so, looking smashing in his new hat and posting pictures here: annanstans.tumblr.com.

For some reason I’d gotten into my mind that I ought to buy a “proper kitchen knife” since that is something which adults seem to do a lot, and I bought a MAC from a nice lady in Chinatown, who threw in another knife and a backscratcher just cause I was nice. She asked me to pass on the word that they ship cheaply to Sweden, and that Kiwi knives are the new black and available, so stop by The Wok Shop if you’re looking for cutlery or such.

Of all the places one can be sick in, Hawaii isn’t the worst, and between getting a really uneven tan and driving around the island, I’m enjoying myself plenty and don’t really look forward to the cold back home, nor the awaiting jetlag which will kick my pasty ass.

Exfoliating hate using super-reality.

I have no pictures of the weekend before midsummer because my skills failed me. Or in more practical terms: I relaxed the crap out of myself and couldn’t be arsed to take pictures. Sara, I and Petter left for the countryside for a couple of days, staying at his cottage an hour north of Gothenburg. I slept until late noon, had a breakfast consisting of more than oats, and then sat with a coffee on the porch, forcing my way through the shittier parts of the Nights Dawn trilogy.

The whole experience was such a sensory overload of idyllic post-card super-reality it had me giggling. It’s difficult to take such an experience seriously. It’s not only that I’m slightly high-strung and can’t really relax properly, but also because reading a book for five hours straight is something so unproblematic by body doesn’t know what to do with itself. This hasn’t happened since I was a teenager, and since then relaxing into a book has been rather more difficult.

Had Bambi showed up and fallen asleed in my lap it wouldn’t have made the place and experience any less extreme. This kind of existence is what is allured to when advertising a product which is supposed to appeal to a sense of Sweden. Only the hangover on Sunday reminded me of home, but even that was soothed by wind, water and dozing off on the porch.

Apparently, my cracking knuckles found their way into Saras snoozing. I would make for a really poor ninja, but we knew that already. Polish people aren’t ninjas, we dress in fur hats and kill people from horseback. Failing that, we charm our friends into helping us in the garden.

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Ninja fail. Drinking buddies. Well hung.

Shortly after a ninja tried to kill the princess of Sweden, I and Petter visited Tobias. As it turns out, there’s not all that much being offered in ways of entertainment in Trollhättan, so all too much money was spent on drinks in hotel bars and such. We were good and tight when we finally stumbled back to his place and fell asleep in front of burning cars in Grand Theft Auto 4. It’s what I believe is called a guys night out except that none of us contracted syphilis.

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I’m infatuated with the time lapse function of my IXUS 70, and will use it until it’s just not fun any more.

We discussed how to best remedy the climate change and global warming and such, resolute to have an email with a solution ready to send of to the UN the next day. We might have to revise our Stalinistic suggestions a bit before going public.

I think we sort of decided to go sailing in a couple of weeks time, and in a vulnerable moment I brandied about the idea of foregoing cigarettes during the cruise. Should we go through with this, it’s not certain that all of those setting out on the trip will return. Imagine something between Lord of the flies and Deliverance, sans banjos.

I’ve been nursing a hangover all day, and had plenty of white rice for brunchinner. For some reason I’ve been reading about different kinds of bows and arrowheads the past hour. If you are a hunting person and wish to buy blunting or shredding implements, you’re in luck: www.bowtechproshop.com.

Drive driven into drivelling dementia!

Yesterday a few nice people celebrated Petters coming of age. Or even-further aging, if you prefer, since 33 isn’t really a milestone as these things go. Yay for Petter, for he is a jolly good fellow.

I got into a sour mood at the end because people were doing the “territorial pissing dance” and elbowing me. Either I find a party where people are polite and don’t dance only to pick someone up, or I stop dancing. Or I drink less – drinking makes Mateusz annoyed and grumpy, like an old person who is annoyed and grumpy.

I’m not certain if I should keep on Twittering. Sooner or later someone will take those messages seriously and come knocking on my door.

Montage of Pär & Petter

I wake up to a kernel panik on my computer, and the drive is making desperate sounds; it wispers “Kill me, kiiiiiill me”. Three hours and a lot of worry later I’m one drive short short of a raid, but ought to be up to speed soon since I actually have a backup of the more important stuff. It’s a drag though. I had just gotten a few good documentaries that I was looking forward to.

Wet asphalt put through some sort of Photoshop \"filter\"

There’s a quiz I’m going to. Wont be able to answer any question, but maybe doghairs are good things.