Archive for April, 2010

… yeah on the dance floor (that was hummed in the tune of “Too sexy” in my head).
Karma, sweet karma.

I wrote some week ago about how I find my old friends from high school increasingly embarrassing when we go out. I also wrote a few entries back that I’d make a post with the theme “dancing habits”. How does these two things correlate? Bear with me a while…

Well. Just after I turned 18 and started going out to clubs, I mostly went out with my “gang” from school. Because of our young age and tight economy, we couldn’t get in to the really pretentious places. Then, as we graduated and got a tid bit older and more accustomed to the Stockholmian nightlife, my friends started to want to go to the fancier places with more expensive drinks, snarkier crowd photographers, creepier guys with more grease in their hair, and more famous DJ:s that still played music I disliked just as much as in the previous places.

I’ve never been much of a dancer. I occasionally enjoy jumping around and being silly I’m in good company. I’ve never claimed to be good at it (actually have been told several time that I’m not), and to be honest I’ve never really seen any beauty in club dancing anyhow. I just enjoy jumping around and having fun, and that’s about it. For some of my friends though, dancing could lead to free drinks and a place in the VIP room.

Here’s the thing: I’m kind of a nerd, and in a nerdy fashion I’m relatively awkward when it comes to body contact. I don’t really mind it, I just don’t often initate it casually unless I feel that I have to, or if I’m really drunk. With some people, whom I known well and like, I can casually pat them, poke them and hit them randomly and this is pretty much my most genuine form of physical affection.

Back to the dance floor:
You know how, when most people go out, they dance by shuffling their feet in different directions, moving their shoulders up and down, shifting the weight of their hips? … yeah, these friends I’m talking about don’t do that anymore. At some point, one of them decided that the hip, new cool thing was to dance like the girls in the most sexistic R&B music videos. Every time I’d go out with them, every 5th minute at least, this girl would either sneak up behind me and do an interpretive dance depicting bum sex, or simulate going down on me by either grinding her  bum against my pelvis area or slithering down my body until her head was roughly at the same spot as my female parts.

Apparentlyshe found this to be hilarious. So hilarious, in fact, that she made a point of doing it more often just to annoy me. I decided that since shoo-ing her off didn’t work, and there aren’t a lot of places to hide on a dance floor, I’d just freeze up every time she came near. Every time she wanted to play “J’s got an invisible penis”, I’d lower my eyebrows, pout, and simply not move. This tactic was reasonably successful.

Fast-forward a year. My friend with an affinity for sensual interpretive dancing has moved on to even fancier clubs, and there’s no scarcity of people with real penises and an appreciation for her, uhm, art, that  wants to dance with her.  I don’t mind her dance as long as she doesn’t do it on me and jokes aside, I get that we’re just from very different social circles and cultures, and in some scenes with some people, there’s people who actually appreciate the beauty of it and not just for sensual reasons. I can’t lie and say that I think it looks good, or that I wouldn’t feel extremely dirty if was forced to do it myself; but bear in mind that this is also true for a) being on reality TV, b) singing any of the winner songs from Eurovision on kareoke, c) wearing crocs.

Now, I’ve never been forced by someone to wear crocs, and never has a person taken a croc shoe and rubbed it against my body sexily to the beat of “Sexy Bitch”. If someone did do that though, I can imagine being a bit uncomfortable and annoyed, much like I felt during my days as a human dancing pole. Now, the payoff to this rather long story might not be the best case of poetic justice out there, but it’s good enough for me. Here it goes.

Said friend has during the last 1 ½ years done some modeling and gets hired from time to time for different events. One night, she and some other girls were hired to do something at a club where some band was playing. I hadn’t heard of the band before, but it consisted of some pretty unclean-looking rockers in their late forties, maybe early fifties. The only reason I know this was because at the same night, a segment about this band was being filmed for some comedy show that runs late evenings. My friend and the other girls who were hired for the event were asked by the film team if they, during the last song in the segment, could run up on stage and just dance a bit along the band. They agreed, but since they didn’t get any time to think about it, everything was improvised. From what I’ve understood, the film team told them that if they used the footage, it would only be a short piece at the end of the show… granted, it was short, but it still made me feel that a small piece of karma had just been handed out. Why? Well, just as the show wrapped up, they showed the girls running up on stage, with the voice-over “Well, it’s clear that someone’s choreographer took the day off”, and then a slow zoom-in on my friend, the only girl on stage doing the really dirty dancing, right next the long-haired, greasy, biker-looking, sweaty, overweight and quite frankly disgusting guitarist. They kept the scene going while the credits rolled.

It aired a couple of weeks ago, and the girl in question wasn’t too pleased about it. I honestly didn’t think her dancing in the segment looked any different from the things she subjected me to, but I guess it looks less glamourous when you see yourself doing it next to some greasy, old dude, on TV.;)

* said friend will definitely figure out that I’m talking about her if she reads this. Oh well, it’s true and she knows it =.=’ 🙂


1. I love IRL trolls. Here’s a memo that was sent to the Pope before his planned visit to Britain, suggesting that his holiness should launch his own condom brand and start an abortion clinic.

2. Lisa Kirkman, a supporter and activist for medical marijuana and legislation, is trying to get her son back after he was taken 2 years ago by CPS. Kirkman is a Canadian citizen and has been away from her son since he was sent with her boyfriend (who had paternal rights in Canada) to visit the US, where CPS supposedly took the kid because the the boyfriend’s paternal rights weren’t legit there. So if I’m understanding this correct, if I had a kid and I wanted him/her and a close friend or a sibling to go to a trip to Oregon without me, CPS has the right to place the kid in foster care since I’m so irresponsible…?

3. I’m just going to post the link here, in case anyone is sensitive to a bit of blood. I’m intruiged though; is this real or fake? If it’s real, is it a self-injury or is it an actual accident? In that case, ouch ouch… ouch. Click here to see the picture.

From the wikipedia article on limerence:

“Limerence involves intrusive thinking about the limerent object. Other characteristics include acute longing for reciprocation, fear of rejection, and unsettling shyness in the limerent object’s presence. In cases of unrequited limerence, transient relief may be found by vividly imagining reciprocation from the limerent object.”

“During the height of limerence, thoughts of the limerent object (or person) are at once persistent, involuntary and intrusive. Limerence is first and foremost a condition of cognitive obsession. All events, associations, stimuli, and experiences return thoughts to the limerent object with unnerving consistency.”

“Limerence develops and is sustained when there is a certain balance of hope and uncertainty. The base for limerent hope is not in objective reality but reality as it is perceived. The inclination is to sift through nuances of speech and subtleties of behavior for evidence of limerent hope. “Little things” are noticed and endlessly analyzed for meaning.”

”Along with the emphasis on positive qualities perceived in the limerent object, and preoccupation with the hope for return of feelings, there is a fear that limerence will be met by the very opposite of reciprocation: rejection. Considerable self-doubt and uncertainty is experienced and it causes pain, but also enhances desire to a certain extent.”

Just HOW do you make missiles and nuclear weapons using Itunes??!?

1. According to the president of Bolivia, eating chicken causes men to become homosexual and bald.

2. I dare you to watch this clip without cringing.

3. Creepy. Also somewhat relevant to my studies.

Things I shouldn’t laugh about.

This video about texting while driving. Sorry, but it’s just so painfully obvious how they’re trying to manipulate the viewers emotions in this one (esp. with the dead baby).

(texting while driving still sucks though)

There’s also this video about heroin, with a lovely demonstration of a woman in a kitchen who really doesn’t know how to properly make an omelette. Again, an important issue, but how many people who seriously consider taking heroin will stop and reconsider because a girl smashed an egg (y’know, except if they’re actually afraid that she’s gonna show up at their doorstep with a raised frying pan if they use).

I have to say this one is still more ridiculous. It’s an anti-weed ad which features a talking dog. I’m not completely sure what the idea was behind this.

I made cookies for my classmates in my studying team.



5 dl wheat flour

1 dl icing sugar

200 g butter/margarine

for the frosting:

2 dl icing sugar

2 tablespoons of water

color dye


Instructions: Mix the cookie ingredients together to a firm dough and put it in the fridge to harden for a couple of hours. Make the dough flat (~2 mm) and cut out the shapes that you want, using forms or a glass. Put them in the oven at 225*C for 10 minutes. Let them cool off. Mix together the icing ingredients, but remember if you use a lot of color dye, cut down on the water. Smear the icing on the cookies and put sprinkles on them (quickly so the icing doesn’t set. otherwise the sprinkles won’t stick).