Archive for September, 2010

I have a nice camera. Compared to other system cameras it’s nothing fancy, it’s just a humble Nikon D60, but it’s perfect for me. I like to go out and take photos, and even though I’m not very good at it I occasionally manage to get some pretty pictures. I especially like learning how to take macro shots. A few days ago I didn’t have anything to do, so I got the idea to take a few funny self-portraits. I posed the camera on a tripod and took a few shots of me jumping through the air in the other side of the room, but it was very difficult to jump in the exact right moment. When you jump you automatically use your muscles and hunch back a bit, and every soft part of your body will flap. This looks even worse when you use a flash, but it’s impossible to get a good shot without the flash when you move quickly and use the self-timer. When you’re doing this by your self and somewhat spontaneously, not in a studio with good lights but in your untidy little bedroom, it takes some time to even time the jump right. I have sore muscles in my thighs today because of it. I guess my point is that you shouldn’t try to do this if you have a fragile self-image, because you will look flabbier, 20 years older, and also stupider than a 4 year old child with a pen up it’s nose.

On the upside, it’s a great work-out. I hate working out and I didn’t even notice I was tired until I was covered in sweat (the sweat really adds glamour to the photos later. Perfect in combination to all that flab).

But you can view this as a treat from me. To be honest, these are way more accurate photos of me than the ones where I try to look like a responsible girl with normal hobbies and a regular hygiene routine.

Eery floating Joos bids you a good night.


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Yesterday I had to miss a class to go observe a session between a speech-language pathologist and her patient. It was fun. I currently read about children’s speech disorders, which are mostly developmental, but the next course is about voice dysfunctions, which is what the patient had. Voice problems are probably the only field SLPs can work where the patient is often an adult and relatively healthy; otherwise you’re mostly dealing with children or very ill people, who suffered a stroke or cancer. I mostly want to work with neurological disorders, which means the majority of my patients will be older people with aphasia due to stroke, brain cancer and various age-related neurological diseases (like Alzheimer’s). I can’t see myself working with children for a longer time, but voice patients seems interesting enough. They’re mostly adult people who are dissatisfied with their voices. It can be that they are professional singers who want to know how to use their voice right, older people who’s voices are getting weaker and hoarse, or people who don’t think their voice reflects their identity in some way. That group consists of for example transgendered people who want their voice to sound more like the norm for the gender which they identify with.

I have an internship coming up in a few weeks. I had hoped to get a spot at a clinic in Stockholm, but they only allowed two students to go there and since many from the class used to live in Stockholm, we had to randomly pick who got the spot, and it wasn’t me. I got my forth choice, Motala. It’s a tiny town with 30k citizens, one hour from Linköping, which means I have to travel two hours every day for three weeks. I’m a bit bitter about it, but hopefully I’ll get Stockholm the next time.

And hey, I passed my first exam of the term! I still didn’t study as hard as I should though. I got through the last year even though I didn’t study much compared to my classmates. I think I could probably still graduate if I kept it up, but I can’t imagine treating patients and not knowing what the hell I’m doing, so I’m going to get a bit more serious about studying now. During the internship I’ll have some patients of my own, which is a bit scary. It’s just kid patients and mostly just those with minor phonological speech disorders, but I still have to improve my skills in writing IPA and everything about grammar. Despite this and the fact that it is in Motala, I’m looking forward to actually working clinically for a while.

1. Dad of convict tries to smuggle heroine to the prison through his ass… plans on making the transfer with a tounge kiss with his son… Is it bad that I kind of wish the officers had waited to arrest them until AFTER the deal was made?

2. And wtf is this why would you even I have no clue arrrrgghhh!

personal things

Posted: September 25, 2010 in Personal Life
Tags: , ,

There’s something going on right now which is pretty bothersome. I won’t talk about it here because it isn’t about me, and I don’t think it would be right to talk about other people’s problems here. I feel pretty crappy about it though. I used to be much less sympathetic than I am today. A few years ago I acknowledged that other people had issues and I tried to do the right thing for them, but emotionally I wasn’t that involved. I would have felt guilty about seeing someone in pain if I didn’t do anything to help them, but other than that I didn’t react much emotionally.  I’m still not a bleeding heart of caring, but I DO care more about other people and I feel bad for them when they’re in pain. I’m afraid I’m still not good at being there for people though. I want to, but I’m not that good with feelings. If a friend ask me for a favour, I would do it, but asking me to be a shoulder to cry is just generally a bad idea to me. I always hope there’s someone else around who’s better at comforting, less awkward, and who can give better advice than me, because I SUCK. This time I’m not sure if there’s anyone else so I’m just going to try to not do too much damage. 😦

where have you been all my life? it’s like there’s been a hole in my world just waiting to be filled by a golden eyebrow presser.

The source makes it seem a bit more sensible though.

I made a thank-you card to my driving instructor with a set of colored pens that I bought for roughly a dollar. It kind of looks like driving on drugs, but it was supposed to express my feelings on how confusing I thought driving & traffic was when I first started. On the inside there’s a green light and a note. I love making homemade cards but they always end up super- weird. I made one for Sofia when she left for Berlin, with her as a Moomin character in a fetish-version of the Moomindale, and when Jonas left I made him one with him surrounded by tiny, naked versions of himself riding a Dalecarlia horse (which in my defense was based on a real incident…).

My brain doesn’t really like categorizing this as “art”, but I haven’t got a “crack doodles” category yet on this blog.

I got back yesterday evening after spending the weekend in Hälsingland, which is roughly 6 hours with car from where I live. There’s a house there which my great-grand father built which now belongs to my dad’s aunt, and we get to borrow it when we want to get away for a while. We almost always go with my family and my cousin’s family, which we did this time too, except for my uncle who couldn’t make it.

Anyway, it’s a really nice place. The house is very well preserved, and when I’m there I go through magazines from the 40ies which are still lying around, neatly stocked away in various cupboards. There was one issue from 67 which covered the change from left-sided car traffic to our current right-sided traffic, with thourough interviews with old celebrities on what they thought about suddenly having to drive on the “wrong” side of the road. There were also lots of vintage ads about smoking, talking about how all the elegant and rich people smoked Marlboro or John Silver or whatever the brand was. Classic.

The downside is that there’s no running water, so you have to go to the outhouse instead of a toilet, and you can’t shower. There’s almost no cellphone reception and definitely no Internet. There’s also a really scary looking, vintage teddy bear that I had to move because it was sitting in the room I was going to sleep in… but I didn’t have my camera with me so I couldn’t take a picture. I’m becoming rather easily frightened at night lately. Last thursday I spent the night at mom’s and slept in my little sister’s room. My sister collects porclein dolls, which I find creepy enough during the days, but it’s even worse at nights. I think she has around 10 of them. I bought the biggest one for her as a birthday gift a few years ago, it reaches my hip in hight and stands on the window sill. When you go to bed, it is positioned so you see its outline against the light seeping through the window from the street light outside. Its head is turned so it looks like it is staring at you when you’re lying the bed trying to sleep. Anyhow, mom had refurnished and placed all the dolls on the window sill next to the big doll instead of in the book case where they usually stand, so I had to sleep while being observed by 10 creepy looking dolls instead of just 1. Great.

Speaking of sleeping, I had a pretty horrible nightmare this night (and there wasn’t even any creepy dolls or teddies nearby). It went like this:
In the dream I had some drugs that I thought about taking, but ultimately decided against it because my parents would be home eventually and I didn’t want to be caught (in the dream I was still living at home). As I was walking home, I began to feel the effects of the drug, but I was confused since I thought I hadn’t taken them. My head was weird and my motor skills began to deteriorate, so when I got home, I walked into the bathroom and tried to vomit them up. As I was in the bathroom, I was interrupted by someone outside. I walked out into the hallway (this was set in my childhood home where I haven’t been in almost 10 years). A man was standing outside one of the bedrooms. In the dream, I remembered my mom mentioning to me previously that she was renting a room to one of her friends, so I asked the guy whether he was the son of this friend (which didn’t even make sense because he was too old). I don’t remember what he said, but I made some excuse to call my mom, so I took out my cell and tried to dial her number, but my fingers were too clumsy so I couldn’t hit the right buttons. The panic began to rise as I once again failed to dial correctly and the man had moved so he was standing intimidatingly close. After the third or the forth failed attempt, he took the phone from me and said “The drug is kicking in now, isn’t it?”, and then attacked me. I tried to break free, but I felt very weak from the drug. He started choking, shaking and even groping me and screaming “THE DRUG IS KICKING IN NOW, ISN’T IT??!” and “YOU’RE FEELING THE SYMPTOMS NOW!” in the dream I didn’t know whether he was real or a part of a very, very bad acid trip. I had this feeling like someone was pressing their fingers hard between my rib bones, and then I woke up. So I guess this is my subconscious telling me not to do drugs? o_0 Wish it could have told me in a more gentle way.

Anyhow, this post is a bit scattered, but things will soon be back to regular blogging-wise. I might post some photos from Hälsingland as well,- there’s some very cool things there that I haven’t written about here. I have some photos left from my trip there the previous year. Until then, don’t break too many legs. Or something.

PS. very bummed about the election here. RARRR. D: