Deja vus and other normal things

Nobody realizes that some people expend tremendous energy merely to be normal.
~ Albert Camus

These past few months have been...normal. Atleast, that is what I keep hearing.

"It's normal to feel that way."

"All families go through while they readjust. It's normal."

"It's all part of the normal process. It gets better."

"It's a normal grief reaction..."

"You'll find a new normal, I promise."

"You don't have to be brave all the time. Cry, it's normal!"

I love them for their use of the word normal, and for holding me up and supporting me while I slowly plug along waiting to get back there.

Music Blog 1

Funny the things we remember because of a tune...

Day after day I'm more confused
Yet I look for the light
Through the pourin' rain
You know that's a game that I hate to lose
And I'm feeling the strain
Ain't it a shame

Oh, give me the beat, boys, and free my soul
I want to get lost in your rock and roll
And drift away

A friend posted the chorus on a social networking site and the first thing I thought of was sitting in the front seat of the old white Thunderbird waiting for an old man (He was probably middle aged but I was 5 so...) named Augie to finish pumping "five of unleaded" at the corner gas station opposite the Hess - where Mom could have pumped her own gas but she didn't do that back then.

It was back when I still thought Guy Smiley on Sesame Street hosted "This Is Your Life". And 20 years before I saw a certain Presidential Candidate and thought, "OMG, Guy Smiley wants me to vote for him!".



And now I feel like a little old lady on a front porch waxing nostalgic...

How many times have we heard: I can't believe he/she has been gone that long. Time goes so fast.

I don't get it. It has been 6 months and, while the time does pass, there are times when it feels like I have felt every second of the loss. I suppose that is what grief is though. It is the slow marking of time and readjustment to the new sense of normal in life. It is one of those lessons, I know.

But as I sit here and think about the fact that I am forgetting the sound of his voice and laugh, I also remember all those times when he would kid - well, partly kid. Some of it was frustration. - me about my soapbox. As he was dying, I was fighting to complete a paper for my first class of this new major. I was climbing back up on my soapbox after a long crisis away from it. I was rediscovering who I am. He never got to see that. And I never got to share it.

There is a place in Göteborg where every American runs when they are looking for things like Vanilla Extract (12 bucks a small bottle), Crisco (10 smackers a small can), dill pickles (1100 pennies a stork adorned jar) or refried beans (5 dollars). We go there knowing that it will not be cheap. And we know that satisfying a craving is worth every penny sometimes.

I was there on Tuesday with a close friend. I dragged her in there for moral support while I got Thanksgiving supplies. Basically, I went armed with a person who would say, "Well, of course you need that. It would not be Thanksgiving without it!" And she did it like a champ. Cranberry Sauce, Stove Top Stuffing and Cornbread were hastily flung into my basket. Then, we had a problem.

There it was. The mother of all MUST HAVES. The thing I needed more than anything else and could not live without. My arm went up to reach for it and I realized once again that it is hell being short. It was just out of reach. So, I did the jump grab, the tippy-toe reach and tried shoving my fingers through the bottom of the grated shelf to push it forward. Just as I was reaching for a pen to shove through the grate for added UMPH, she pointed out calmly that there was a step stool about 10 feet away. Hysterical! So, in the end I very non-climatically got my: CAN OF PUMPKIN PIE FILLING!

Christmas kick-off in Gbg

Am I jumping the gun by posting a blog about Christmas lights two weeks before Thanksgiving? Well, yes. Yes, I am. But then, the guy who was hanging them up in the city this morning is getting paid to make people start thinking about Christmas and we would not want him to get into trouble. Or?

The funny thing is that usually Christmas lights before December 1st make me totally grinchy. They did earlier this year too. But today, I was in town and I looked up and saw the blue lights lining the street and a blue star hanging near Arkaden. Then, I turned and saw the giant tree lit up in Nordstan. And I felt at home with it. I am not sure if it is me getting used to the fact that the Swedes start hanging lights in September, if I now understand the need to cut the new darkness with festive, happy lights or if I am just feeling like this year the world (and my little world) needs Christmas to start on November 13th.

Hmmmm...A Christmas blog before my What I Am Thankful For blog has even been started. Going with the flow is kinda fun!

A upcoming "project" and some truths revealed...

Would a This Is Your Life in music be too humiliating for most people to cop to? Is that why it has not been done?

See...that is the kind of question I ask myself after being up too late talking to friends on MSN and exchanging BAD YouTube clips of REALLY BAD 70's and 80's bands. The 70's bands were to make fun of the clothes and the 80's ones were to make fun of the hair. Well, all except Jon Bon Jovi. The man could wear a Perez Hilton wig and still make me be overcome by THE VAPORS. (And with that I have revealed my first sick truth about myself for today. Your welcome.)

I should add here that I intentionally stayed away from ALL clips related to my own Teeny Fan Phase because just the sight of an old New Kids on the Block or Jeremy Jordan clip makes me feel like diving under a rock. I can cop to having nail polish in shades obnoxious enough to be photographed by The Mars Rover, a lingering attachment to my I *heart* My Attitude Problem mug and the ability to combine any article of clothing I owned with a pair of work boots, but seeing clips of "the hottest things...like...EVER!!" makes me just want to self medicate. (I am pretty sure there was more than one additional truth in there somewhere. Your welcome.)

But I have to say that it got a lot better...

Fast forward to Age 17 till now...

What Jonie Mitchell did for Emma Thompson's character in Love Actually, the Dixie Chicks have been to me. That is to say, they have been a source of emotional maturity and emotional purging through the years. Wide Open Spaces came out around the time I fell in love with a Swede and made the leap across the pond. Around the time they sang about being a Long Time Gone, I was going through my own letting go stage and coming to terms with the fact that we can actually outgrow our home of birth and expand so much that we are not a perfect fit there anymore and still not totally belong where we have chosen to be. And Not Ready To Make Nice hit when I was coming into my own in a new adult away. Standing my ground and fully embracing what I have the right to expect from relationships around me. Between these songs were others that were just as important. Ones I reached for when I needed a good cry, a romantic mood or needed to blast something because I was pissed or happy.

But back to the original question...because this blog was not meant to be a novel...

Stay tuned because I am totally going to think about it and put something together. A Year in Review at the least. Why? Because I want to and this is my blog. So there. ;)

K's five stages of creative selection

I am back to considering photos for the upcoming markets and having a very hard time deciding on what is "sellable". I foresee a frantic e-mail to 5 close friends with different eyes and backgrounds (The women around me rock!) and the message, "Lend me your eye before I go totally blind staring at my own crap." in my future I swear, there should be studies on what happens to one when they stare at their own work to long. It is like a bitch fight between creativity and ego - in five predictable stages.

Stage 1: Oh, I like! That is by far the best of this 50 photo set!

Stage 2: But photos 32 and 49 are also quite good.

Stage 3: No, my first instinct is correct!

Stage 4: What am I thinking? That fuzzy bit in that corner brings the whole photo down, the perspective is not 100% and what the hell was wrong with my lighting?

Stage 5: I know Stage 5 is coming but at the moment I am still at Stage 4...and probably on my way back to repeating stages 1-3. Stage 5 will probably be me at the market saying, "Well, thank you very much M'am. I was hoping someone would see the artistic intent behind that particular corner and my subtle use of perspective and light!"

And I am not sure if there is a Stage 6 yet but if there is, I can imagine it hitting right in the middle of a piece of double fudge chocolate cake. A real, "OMG. What if she bought my photo...for the frame!" moment. Followed by a second, larger piece of cake.

Not comparing myself to any of the Greats but...

I wonder, did Michelangelo ever look up and say, "I love that finger right there. No, it is too bendy! But if I change it, the other one will look bad and why did I chose that color while hanging upside down!? Oh well, how long is it really going to be there. Someone will probably paint over it in a few years anyway. Great Vatican, I am awesome! Who wants Espresso!?"