Bella and me woke up late on Saturday and decided to stay in. Stumbling around in yesterdays make up that was probably for the best
When Bella left I pretended to be an ant eater and used my long mouth to suck the fridge clean from anything edible. I also watched Boardwalk empire and dreamed about being a 20’s prostitute. It somehow seemed nicer than being hung over.
When Oliver called I left ant eating and prostitute day dreams behind and went for dinner with him and Miranda. On the way over there I got so taken by a cute pumpkin outfit that I managed to drop my card. I am a klutz!
Sunday I went to the gym (!! applause please) and then met Maja for Sunday roast in Notting Hill. We got unexpected company by Pettan and that ended up in TP with a group of Norwegians. Before Pettan and me could win Oliver came to pick me up and we went to Jamies for italian. Good thing I went to the gym earlier on…
In a couple of hours Britney!
Went out to lunch with my colleagues and got this little gem of a dumpling plate.
Yesterday I cooked dinner for Bella, Elin and Oliver. It was almost this beautifully presented (except for some serious sloppiness with the soy sauce and well, minus the flower, and colour and plate.) We did what you usually do when having dinner; ate, talked, drank wine and finished a bag of dumle after the dessert.
Before going to bed I taught Oliver another useful phrase for when he comes to Sweden
‘Du är snygg och jag är en idiot’ (you are a babe and I’m an idiot)*. He’s going to go far that man
*It might seem like I’m this horrible person teaching him to say he’s an idiot (which i don’t, in most cases, think) but he asked to know. It was in the context of not being able to understand swedish but I gave it some artistic flare.
Dad, there are some nice pictures from Agnes baptize on Facebook I thought you wanted to see (and you can download them by right click the image and press save.)
Sus was in town last night and all my food thinking paid off. We did go to Churchill arms for thai and to the ice cream place for pistachio. Perfect night.
A tiny, tiny girl photographing a tiny, tiny car and at the same time holding the Biggest. Pile. Of. Paper. Ever.
Churchill arms. Love the facade and all the flowers.
Pistachio and Fragola. A little piece of heaven.
Sus seemed to love it as well (even if she had the shitty taste of caramel and coffee. Some people shouldnt be trusted near ice cream)
I left her safely at the hotel at eight and went home for some whores and gangsters in Boardwalk empire. After his double bill (of what to seem to be quite shitty, ‘horrible’ was the verdict of Midnight in Paris and ‘beautifully filmed but to 80’s and over the top’ for Drive, films) Oliver came over and I started to teach him some swedish. He has now perfected the useful phrase ‘Snälla, kan jag få en kram’ (Can I please have a hug). Hard to resist.
I’m meeting Sussie for dinner tonight. I’m thinking thai at Churchill arms. Or maybe something english if Sussie is dying for it but the english food is in general quite crappo (sorry english people). The Elgin is nice though. Mmm, hamburger…
But more than anything I’m thinking ice cream at the italian place. Pistachio for sure (they better not be out, I get grumpy then) and banana.
Be damned, hungry already and there is a couple of hours to go.
Some days are heavier than other. From the moment you wake up they press on all the positives making them shrink into tiny bits of nothingness. Everything seem sad and it’s hard to remember the good things.
You know they are there, the positives, you try to remind yourself of all the amazing things you have. You do have all of those amazing things and you feel guilty for even feeling those sharp bits of nothingness nestled in your heart. Realizing you have something is not the same thing as feeling that you have something.
Those heavy days makes it heard to breathe.
You must learn how to close those blue eyes of yours and see the world for what it is sometimes. No one will know how to look after you if you don’t ask them. They wont know how they hurt if you don’t tell them.
That is what makes it hard to breathe.
An era is going to its end. Little Tompen, all grown up by now, is moving back to Sweden in a couple of days. That needed a goodbye in style so we went to Balans for brunch.
Laxen sported his P cap. He was very happy with that to start with but then he realized he could be having a Lax cap. Then the hunt began for the perfect cap.
The guys were somewhat hang over. Tompen is just slightly (crazy) bloated
Yummy! I was feeling crap (I am so tired of this, my body and I are not on the same wave length at the moment) and didnt eat but it looked amazing for those who did.
Elin had both quesedillas and french toast. As you do when you are Elin.
After all that amazing food we went to Chelsea farmers market for Pimms. Or, the others had pimms. I had thoughts on what to do to this treacherous body of mine.
Elin was happy and somewhat weird. As it should be.