Category: The life

Treat yo self

by  on  in Philosophy, The life • 14 Comments

Went to the doctor yesterday, apparently the previous guy quit. But hey, just another guy gets to see my vagina right? Life smiles to me.

But I like him! He got me sessions with this psychologist he knows (since I didn’t really vibe with my previous one), and gave me pills for my hives. Notice I can still call them my hives. Any longer I would have been it’s body. The hives’s. Because it’s all over my entire upper body. And it feels as great as it looks. Fucking burns.

But still have skin and am able to move around freely. So still stoked about that. Even though have now skin like turtle.

I’ve always wondered, when writing that something is something else’s, let’s say a house. Do you say it’s the houses’ or house’s, or something else? Because the last one is something that the house is. Isn’t it?

Had to work out at home. Because running in this slushy snow ain’t happening. So that’s a bummer. But am able to move and not weak or in wheelchair. So again not such a bummer after all.

Had to fill out a form to decide what type of a psychologist I needed, no surprises there, but it got me thinking after seeing how high my scores were on anxiety related issues. I’m so used to having anxiety and consider my life so much better now than earlier, I don’t think I even recognize how much energy I use on it. I always just assume it’s other stuff that makes me so exhausted.

So, to which extent does it really affect my everyday life? Minutes earlier, in the waiting room, I was sweating, unable to sit still, biting nails, grinding teeth, blushing -I actually cried a little in front of the rest of the people waiting.. I figured at the doctors you can do anything. You’re obviously there because something’s wrong with you.

Look at this cup the little one gave me for Christmas. Is it evergood? I think it is.

I’m scared I’m going to meet someone I know at the grocery store, will the cashier talk to me? (please don’t let it be a man and he starts flirting with me) Will my card work? (instantly reminded of work and question self-worth and importance in this world) Will I slip in the snow on my way home, exposed to all the cars driving by? Will I meet a neighbor in the hallway when I’m walking up those four floors to get to my apartment? It doesn’t matter how many times I check, I always run to the mirror the moment I get in to see if my foundation didn’t rub off somewhere along the way, my fly’s open, my skirt caught in my pantyhose, my hair like Miranda in sex and city’s (season one), if I look fat or something else. If I look bad or stupid in any way. (I do also feel beautiful, strong and great at times, just not to discredit myself entirely)

Look at this Christmas-hairclip. I’m beautiful.

These ‘little’ things that pushes me to be this person I don’t necessarily like. A person with her eyes fixed to the ground running through life scared to stop.

A person who forgets her rights because she doesn’t feel she has the right to be here.

Cancelling appointments more often than she goes through with them. (I think a lot of us do that btw, making appointments when feeling confident – dying when the day actually arrives). It’s never a good feeling. Because you feel weak or depressed, that’s why you can’t go through it in the first place (your lunch or whatever), and end up even weaker and more depressed after sending that heavy message that you’re again cancelling and will not be able to make it.

A person who lashes out, most of all to her loved ones.

Such a bummer.

I don’t want to be that. I’m not that. I get tired from it. And feel defeated, over and over again. But it is better than earlier, it really is. And I wanna continue that journey, get even better. I live once and wanna be GREAT. Get rid of that anger. And I don’t think that’s a selfish or narcissistic thing to do, choosing to work on and focus on yourself. Earlier they all just got over it. Lots of people people still do. But they hit a wall at some point. They have to take time off from work. They get pains in their body from stress due to something going on with them that they’re unaware of. They lash out. They get divorced. They drink. Take painkillers. They feel guilty.  They project their feelings of inadequacy onto others. They don’t recognize love, nor able to keep fulfilling relationships with others. They’re desperate. They take their own lives.

So work on it. Never settle. Like maybelline, you’re worth it.

Bree Van de Kamp for a day. A day I shall cherish for the many months to come and go until the next time we meet

by  on  in Philosophy, The life, The skin • 20 Comments

Today’s really been one of those days when cleaning just. feels. SO. great.

It started innocently enough; me getting home after an extended weekend at my parents house due to flu, eight in the morning, acknowledging as I walk through the front door this new wooden serving board I just got that needed oiling.. It all starts very sexy. Long story short I ended up doing every piece of wood that crossed my path (…), plus my kitchen counter top. And it felt great. And it didn’t stop there. You know that shit you almost never do, but once in a while they’ll come to you in, like a whisper in the wind from your lady ancestors –old instincts kicking in and you suddenly find yourself doing things in the most jeopardizing positions physically you can imagine, things you never knew were actual things people did when you were younger? You would never do these things unless you really wanted to. These chores are only achievable when your body wants them done and your mind and spirit agrees. And the stars align and the  fourth night moon of the first month of.. ok, stopping.

These days are gifts. Rare gifts.

 And at the end of these days you ask yourself why you don’t do this every week? Or month, even (even though you know the answer). Because it feels so good. Vacuuming and cleaning and turning of the mattresses.. Airing out the duvets and pillows until they’re as cool as the frost on the ground.. Beating the sofa cushions to death outside.. Scrubbing of the shower tiles.. So many tiles. Cleaning of the cupboards -washing away every sugar grain, deleting every last piece of evidence with it that your husband ate porridge that one time..

You get the picture.

I also washed a lot of clothes, like four washes. It was piling up there, so I’m not parading this one around too much. I’ve now got sheets hanging off of every door in the apartment and can’t close a single door.

But there’s nothing quite like that feeling.. I’ve also been on my first run today btw, since the flu officially left this temple that is my body, and washed my hair for the first time in six days. Which must be some sort of personal record. Besides the times I’ve been physically unable to do so. Obviously been washing my body during these days of abstinence. But I’m all about being as natural and sparing and caring of my nordic skin as can be from whatever I can spare it from! But I’m not gross. I just know that our bodies are supposed to produce oils. For protection. So let’s not get frantic about washing too much and give it a chance. This does not apply to certain areas. One must always wash certain areas.

Circling back to my point: I feel Clean. Mrs. Clean here, in Clean Town. And there really is nothing like that feeling. Can’t wait for that feeling when I slip into my clean bed, bouncy mattress with my new fresh crisp washed and aired christmas-linen my parents gave me for Christmas. Spoiler, it’s red.

I even ironed them before I put them on. I’m equally ashamed and excited about that.

I even put on this towel-for-your-hair-thing my sister-in-law gave to me years ago. And it just dawned on me.. It’s fucking fabulous..! I mean?

It attaches in the front. There is a button. And a, like a hook? Yea, it’s this whole thing, construction thing, in the front. Fabulous.

I just got that sense of middle eastern wealth immediately as I noticed my new Missoni towel in the background that I’d just hung up to air-dry my body (natural, caring and sparing of the skin, remember?). I even embodied this whole new persona, like:

Hey Zayed, darling; why aren’t the camels ready?

Why didn’t I just marry a rich sheikh?

Ok, maybe I do know the answer to that. Being a bipolar feministic woman of the 21st century and all.. But still! A camel and a magic carpet feat. someone pouring me tea with a side of date would be nice.

Anyways. Earned some Netflix-time before I’m off on my magic Christmas carpet. Tomorrow I work.

Bye

Ok, I seriously noticed just now that I’m using these coasters.

Checking in at 2018

by  on  in The life • 16 Comments

It’s been so long! Since I’ve checked in! With myself and the ones around me actually, come to think of it.. My mind has been preoccupied with another person lately. And that’s fine. We all have times when we have to prioritize others than ourselves. I just get very irritable when I don’t know what it is that I’m feeling. And it’s usually something. Causing some sort of anger inside of me. I have a lot of anger.! And the only way to make it go away is to try to understand it. Only way. So it’s so important to check in once in a while. I rarely know what’s going on with myself until I sit down with you.

So, hi. Happy New Year.

New-years for me has always meant one thing. My birthday’s coming up. And I love getting older.

Since turning twentyfive I’ve loved celebrating my birthday. It’s a good excuse to get people I love and need in my life together and pop a lot of champagne. Last year I celebrated with family at a restaurant. This year I’m going out with my man for a night of our own. To catch up on how I’ve been lately. How he’s been. Me first obviously. Cause Christmas is always overwhelming. For all of us.

Me. Overwhelmed on Christmas Eve. Feeling particularly round after a sugary morning followed by a really enjoyable run between the trees.

Food will always be a challenge. I still kind of freeze and go back in time the days leading up to going home for Christmas. I get that feeling that I have to starve myself to get some wiggle room for all the meals ahead. But I am experiensing more and more that it’s no different than any other meals throughout the year. More meat than I’d normally eat, but I don’t have to eat anything I don’t want to. Apparently. I used to think the whole thing was a conspiracy. Where my family and the rest of the world made these rules about all this food I’d be forced to eat for Christmas. To make me fat. The ultimate test and challenge to see how strong I could be. Christmas dinners, Christmas puddings, Christmas cookies..

Oh, the anger. Towards the happiest time of year. What a waste of energy.

I do realize I don’t have to fear Christmas. I really do. No one’s forcing me to eat anything I don’t want to eat. Even though I do get paranoid when I turn down food I don’t want, and someone comments on it. That’s maybe the one thing that stresses me out the most. People commenting on the food all the time. Just leave people be. If they’re eating a lot or too little in your opinion – keep it to yourself. No one wants to hear that over the age of two. Even at two. I still do feel that I have to prove that I’m cool now, that I don’t ‘care’ what I eat. So I do eat more than I would like to sometimes. And it’s fine. One day I’ll be so convinced in my own recovery that I don’t have to fear what other people may think. One day I’ll be more recovered.

And then these days pass. And all is normally challenging again.

And you won’t have to deal with pots this size.

And food that look like this.

I ate more than this for the record. It’s my favorite meal of the entire year. It’s smoked lamb’s meat and it’s heaven.

Look at this ambiance though. Dad always makes the dinner and the three of us set the table. And we drink like one glass of wine. It’s weird, but our tradition has just never involved alcohol. Come Christmas Eve we’re all children again. Candy-eating giggling children waiting for the next Christmas movie. We play playstation too. We’re the best at Christmas.

LOOK AT THIS

Right after new-years eve I got the flu from the other one. So I got the wonderful excuse to go back home to mum and lie down on the couch being served yet another pot of the Christmas tea we got in our advent calendar sock (I realized this year that advent calendars wasn’t just a Norwegian thing.! Through the inevitable force of social media: Kim Kardashian’s Instagram).

Me today. Overwhelmed for standing up.

Guess I’ll just sit down with more honey. Fruit. And chocolate. And watch the real housewives of New York. To get that glimpse from the real world.

I’ll take your word for it.

by  on  in The life • 43 Comments

I put a long weekend, leaked into late Monday night, behind me. I’m so tired. Which is also good. One should get really tired before the Christmas holidays. That’s how you know it’s gonna be good.

I just can’t remember the last time I looked in the mirror and felt good about myself. Not that I think anybody really does these days. But it’s really left me tearing up more than I feel that I have the energy for lately. I’m so over it. So over my self and my endless need for physical satisfaction. Why does it matter so much to me? How I think other people see me?

So my social and panic anxiety’s really bad. It’s always bad when I don’t feel pretty. I know, stupid. But there it is.

Also me.

Wined up (yes, I did just write that) in these Christmas and Christmas-parties-times. Putting on makeup like I’m ready to do social confidence and act like I really care about what you’re saying to me.

Feeling great about myself.

Only thing I feel great about is the velvet I currently live in and the red pantyhose.

And I do care, for the record. What you have to say to me.

I’ve been staying at my sisters for a couple of nights as a result. At this point I’m crying after one glass of wine over the fact that they can even stand having me. Which is ridiculous. I know they love me, I just don’t see how sometimes.

Anyways, I’m dragging these red legs to bed now. After one episode of The Crown. Early rise and a trip to the capitol with the little one tomorrow. She said she was stoked I was coming.

I’ll take her word for it.

Socks within a sock

by  on  in The life • 13 Comments

Landed two days ago from a ten day trip (turned sixteen) to Bali. I actually think this has been our best family holiday yet. My sisters and I are closer in both age and emotionally than ever. My husband and I.. well we’re officially family now. So, you know, he’s there. Can’t include people too fast into your inner family circle. Mom gets too attached and you’re stuck with awkward holiday photos with him at the end for ever. The other one obviously has been in our inner circle for many many years now, but the holiday-thing’s never really happened before now.. He was probably working. So this was really special.

We’re not the type of family though to ever hand over our camera to strangers on holiday to take pictures of all of us lined up in front of whatever building none of us heard of before arriving in whatever country it inhabits. Forced smiles.. Very few of us are good smilers in these situations, usually encouraged by only one of it’s participants. Usually a parent. Most of us look constipated lined up like that. Face straight forward, maybe leaning a bit on one leg kinda posing in the hopes that it’ll make our legs look leaner and make the whole thing less forced and more natural. Which it won’t. Head tilted a little bit and a smile that peaked ten seconds ago. A look that says Hurry the fuck up.. Dad’s usually come best out of photos like these. They’re just so happy you’re all there and willing to make proof of it.

Holidays.. I’m so happy to be home.

I just started crying over the fact that it’s December and Christmas is soon and that makes me so very happy. Just now. Am now crying. It’s the time of year that I’m the happiest, saddest, most emotional yet most motivated to be the kindest and warmest I can possibly be. Isn’t that beautiful? It’s such a good time to be alive and I love my husband so much. I’m so in love with him and I love my family so much, his family.. I never feel lucky nor do I believe in it, but today I feel lucky and thank the universe that I’m in my life.

Even though I shopped for 3000 NOK this holiday, that’s like 5 000 000 Indonesian rupiahs, (and I never shop on holiday), I bought myself a Christmas sweater yesterday and I plan on watching Bridget Jones today wearing it drinking hot chocolate.

I also bought an additional pair of Christmas socks even though I owned two while I was at it. I put it in my sock hanging beside the furnace and surprised myself with them this morning. Do you have that? Advent calendar? You open one each day, every other day or once a week or whatever until Christmas Day. Be that a piece of chocolate or a thing. We used to get things like socks. A scrunchy. Pantyhose. 10 NOK for a chocolate milk at school.. I accidentally googled ‘pantyhoes’ just now to confirm my spelling and highly recommend you don’t.

Jesus, Internet. Why?

I even got a pair of socks for the other one. Put it in his furnace-sock. Which I made for him.

Needless to say, he was ecstatic.

He also got a Christmas sweater obviously. It wasn’t unisex.

Good morning btw! This is us at 07.00. We get up really early these days. He swears it’s due to jetlag. I believe it’s because my body and mind are preparing for all the magical Christmas mornings ahead. Mornings are the best in winter. Candles, dark outside, coffee and something christmassy on tv. Totally worth getting up earlier for.

I also got myself a christmassy toothbrush. You see? It has a pattern like one of those Christmas candy-sticks.

Here’s his sock. The small one. I take it all very seriously and have the bigger one.

Have a great 6th of December. I’m gonna post every day until Christmas. To bring Christmas-joy to you. Because the thought of someone not feeling the Christmas spirit is unbearable and I can’t take it with all of these emotions floating around.

Air it out

by  on  in Philosophy, The life • 12 Comments

I painted one of the living room walls. I like it. White can be so depressing.

The other one helped. But I’m a better painter than him. I make it even, take my time. So I painted the second and third coat by myself. I love tasks like that. Just-do-tasks, no need to think. I’ve been doing a lot of escaping thoughts lately. I’ve been feeling as dark as my new wall on my inside and have no intention of indulging it. Can I say that? Indulging? Indulging in it? To indulge in something?

Anyways. Been running a lot, alone and with the other one. Which feels great. Except the expected minor closing of the throat episodes that forces me to slow down. I don’t think it comes from panic or being out of breath. It’s sadness. It’s suppressed tears. And they make me so very tired. How exhausting life can be. How exhausting to keep going sometimes. Keep running. Keep getting out of bed. Putting on your face. Caring about all sorts of stuff. Seems like all I’m enjoying these days is writing. My book. I’m writing every episode of my life that comes to me down. To be filled out later. I don’t really have any ambition or hope for it. I’ve just wanted to write it since I was eighteen and committed to a psychiatric hospital. I remember very well just when I decided that I would write it all down one day. The book may just turn out as a pity-party and totally uninteresting to read. Which is fine. I am, at my core though, a positive person with a positive outlook on the future. Even now, today. Because I know it’ll pass. Everything passes, life responds to you and change itself for you all the time.

Maybe this is true or maybe I just have to air out my living room. The chemicals from the paint may have gotten to my head and I’m all blur now.

I think I’ll go to my sister now. After this selfie in this very special lighting that I’m so very blessed with that enhances all of my little facial lumps and bumps <3

I can always go to my sisters, and I’m so happy that is the case. I feel so sad for the ones as dark inside as my freshly painted with chemicals wall without anywhere safe to go. I have three tips for you.

1. Don’t fear it. Cry, be in pain -it’s not gonna hurt you more than what you’re feeling right now. 2. Write it down. Or say it out loud, take your dark feeling and break it down, let it out into the room, confront it, embrace it. Bad feelings diminish when taken apart, they hate daylight. 3. Air it out. Open the window, get some air. Better yet, go outside. The leaves are beautiful this time of year.

I’m off now. There’s a glass of wine somewhere with my name on it.

After this one.

Soundtrack of the day: Moby – Natural Blues. LOUD.

Sanctitude and white on nude

by  on  in The fashion, The life • 11 Comments

If you’re anything like me, waking up Sunday morning without a hangover will most likely be the closest to sanctitude you’ll ever feel.

Even went for half-marathon long run with the other one yesterday and spent the rest of the evening drinking tea watching I Don’t Feel at Home in This world Anymore. Which, I felt, was partially true since I felt everybody was out socializing while time stood still at our house. Me and the other one stretched out on different sofas, eating Chinese take-away.. Like how you can feel totally alone in this world (in the best possible way) if you wake up really early while it’s still dark and have the opportunity to sit quietly for a while before taking on the day.

Magical.

I did, however, drink wine on Wednesday

…

Which might have something to do with it. I mean, if I don’t drink wine in over a week, that’s just.. it’s too much. My skin looks a bit better, my anxiety and physical shape improves, I make better life choices.. I just don’t see the point.

We were in Trondheim up north this week with the little one’s crew to help out and watch her perform in probably the most beautiful cathedrals in Norway, Nidarosdomen. It was the most stunning performance she ever gave in my opinion. Might have been the cathedral. Or the lighting. Might have been the fact that she was wearing a dress I worked really hard on. Or that I haven’t seen her in a while. Or the fact that I’ve gotten a whole new outlook on her after her tour in Brazil. I have such tremendous respect for that little one. So few could do what she does without breaking. And she really does make me wanna be a better person.

I was really beaten though. So I wore what I wear whenever I need a confidence boost. Something androgynous and relaxed -yet provocative. Going bra-less in a see-through oversized shirt. Perfect combo for being untouchable. For me. I’m not saying you’ll feel confident showing some nipple. You probably won’t, really.

But I do.

Put this bad boy on top and you’re a diva.

With balls.

It’s fake. Relax.

The fur.

And the confidence.

Inconvenient visits

by  on  in The life • 13 Comments

I mentioned last week I was going to Oslo for a day to work. I felt so honored when I was asked by, seriously one of the coolest women I know, Christine Dancke, to contribute to a project she’s doing on anxiety. She contacted me a couple of weeks ago after reading a specific blog post of mine. How small this country is. How special she made me feel. My voice?

She sent me some photos. How it pains me, seeing photos of myself when I’m stressed.

It stresses me.

And makes me a little sad. I worked on it for the rest of the weekend. Not that I necessarily feel like I’ve pushed myself too far or given too much, that it’s too raw.. I just always have to clean up when Memory and Sorrow have visited. Not that it ever surprises me, tears. I just always seem the forget how painful they can be. When you’re crying with your entire body and feel like you can’t breathe. And you can’t really be crying right now and need to reschedule this whole thing. Come back later, you know I’ll take care of you later. But this is the worst time. Because there’s people waiting for me. And I have to put my face on. And you’re pushing tears from my insides because that’s the only visible language that you have. I feel you, you know.

Brings me back to my wedding every time these visits. Which doesn’t really help the situation.

The weekend really was great, though. So many good people that I love. But I feel like I’ve been really busy exhausting myself lately socializing and traveling. Traveling is fucking hard when you’re drained.

I feel for the little one.

Being at home working doesn’t really make me tired. I’ve started running again.. which feels really good. You know the feeling of just wanting to take care of yourself? I can see on my face  and feel in my bones that I’m tired and need some recuperating. Which I’ll do. Cancelled all my social upcoming events and am being my best friend at the moment.
The little one’s home any day now. How I’ve missed her. The first one too, actually. Think I’ll go see them one of these days. Yes. I’ll go see them one of these days.

Turning my head to the good side !

by  on  in Beauty, The life • 5 Comments

Good morning!

I’m off to Oslo in half an hour, needs to put my face on still, but have huge announcements to make.

I changed the side I part my hair.

You like?

Huge commitment.

Got so excited I made a little dance.

I felt nice.

As a (side) bonus my smiling side is now on my better side of my top. My face. Because who smiles from the same side you have the most hair, which falls into your eyes? No. I prefer smiling from my right side. But have been forced to do the terrible thing for a year now; smiling from my worst side. Or less great side, maybe. My left side.

I have great teeth on my right side.

This side.

I’ve always wanted to fix the left one. But my closest people have always told me not to. Says it’s part of my charm. I feel it’s childish and something that tells you not to take me seriously. And that’s my biggest defense mechanism. Not that I’m mastering it very well. I’ll fix it though when I have a serious job and make money to do so!

Look at it.

This was last night though. When I blow dried it. Blew dried? Doesn’t sit with me. Anywsay, I had a really good hair-day last night. Typical, right? Feeling good when there’s nobody there to witness?

Then I slept. On one side. Not so nice this morning to say the least.

But it’s fine. It’l settle. Like the rest of our tops it needs some time settling.

Exciting day ahead, and then we’re going to the other one’s family the rest of the weekend. Up north. Or mid-country. Ish. Anyways, they’re some of the coolest people I know, and I love having out with them. So freakin’ lucky. And they like talking and wineing (I made a word just now) as much as I do.

Cheers! Love to you! And have a good weekend!

Covering up

by  on  in Beauty, The life, The skin • 12 Comments

Aaaah my skin is driving me so crazy! And it’s SUCH a small thing, I’m aware. Such a small thing. A tiny problem in one life out of ALL of the problems in ALL the lives living on this rotating ball we call “our” home. Haha actually watched a documentary-thing yesterday whilst ironing about storing our knowledge and history in some type of new technology. For humans. After we’re all dead. So.. humans further down the line.

Like evolution would be so fucking stupid.

And it’s all in 1’s and 0’s. Obviously. Because if we start all over again we’d probably fuck up as badly as this batch did and end up in 1’s and 0’s.

I think that IF.. and that’s a big if..; the hooman, the species Homo Sapiens, finds their way back to earth they’d do far better than we did. Hopefully we were the first pancake. And we got eaten immediately. Not saved and protected to enjoy later. Just fucked up, broken and eaten.

Anyways, bigger stuff: my skin. I’ve been doing the full routine recommended by my dermatologist for rosacea from ZO skin health for nine months. And six months is what it takes apparently for you to be able to really see if something’s really working. Which I… yeah. I’ll go with it. Whether or not my skin is better underneath the surface, I can’t say. Anti-aging-wise etc. I don’t fucking care now, do I? I’m not scared of wrinkles or sun-spots or whatever -that’s my life showing in my face. That’s fucking beautiful. I’m young with baby skin now and I want to go out without constantly being scared of people hugging me and in doing so accidentally wipe some of my foundation off revealing Rudolf underneath.

And what bothers me the most: people fucking going around parading great success for EVERYONE ! THIS IS THE SOLUTION FOR EVERYONE !

That’s just great.

How great for you! That your problems were fixed. I feel for you the same way I feel for people who start doing mindfulness and gets cured for whatever alleged mental health illness they popped into for a quick hello. And then make statements about everyone being able to beat whatever illness they’re battling with.

Fuck you. I feel nothing for you.

Parading about like the cat that got the cream about your success, swearing by lifestyle changes, products or medicines right and left. You’re making the rest of us feel inadequate. Unfixable.

There’s also the possibility that my skin’s just naturally gotten worse and would get to this state regardless. There is also a chance that’s the case. But why should I then spend thousands for skin products?

Also. The people thinking you’re still in third grade and fishing for compliments for your obviously superior drawing by flaunting it around being all “ooh, my drawing is so ugly…..” to the person holding this bad boy.

After a certain age you get real problems and stop fucking around with the term. And, please, you people – meet Internet. It’s all over the place. You can do anything with makeup. We won’t need witness protection programs anymore. Just Kardashian kits.

So! As a conclusion..: even though skin issues or mental health issues (sometimes they’re connected) aren’t visible at first glance doesn’t mean they’re not there.

Weekend’s around the corner and I’m doing a very exciting project tomorrow.  Which I’ll be very proud to tell you about later. Love to you!

#metoo

by  on  in Philosophy, The life • 5 Comments

Internet always goes off the wall when celebrities give speeches or stand up together to bring awareness to an issue. Either it’s feminism, racism, terrorism, sexuality or sexism. Which is SO important obviously. Only weird thing is, for me, and what makes me personally never join the circus is that there’s always a crazy storm –everyone’s talking about it, but then it seldom really changes anything..? At least I feel that way. Not that they should ever ever stop obviously, don’t get me wrong. In a dream-world we would always have these topics at the top of our heads. But that’s impossible and would definitely keep us from living our lives happily. So it’s important to make noise when something so relatable and big happens. But those media-storms always makes me fear that people stop taking it seriously. Because people get sick of hearing it. Sick of Instagram flooded with hashtags, je suie Charlie’s and #Pray for’s.

I know I do.

I also know, I’m quite the cynic. So feel free to not pay attention to anything I’m saying. But! Point is: this hashtag actually made me hashtag myself.

Because this has affected my life in a huge manner. Even my hashtag on Instagram left almost only comments on my looks and not how sad it is that #metoo. And it’s so sweet of you to compliment me, I love a good compliment, but.. Read my point please 🙂 This movement, if you will, is about exposing the scale of sexual assault and harassment and started with some women speaking up about being assaulted by the pig of a man and movie produser Harvey Weinstein. Classic story of abuse from a person that has a lot of power and ranks high on the social status “score-list” (or whatever I should call it). This is an especially shocking story because so many people were affected by it, is was so well known but never spoken about.

Again, classic story.

Even this guy’s a victim of sexual harassment in the work place. He’s even gotten so used to it he doesn’t even take himself seriously anymore! How can he expect anyone else to?

It’s a vicious circle I tell ya.

So much of my social anxiety was created by men and how they approach me. I’ve always been made very aware of how they view me physically and it has left me overly conscious and very hard on myself regarding how I look. The anticipation, the excruciating embarrassing wait as I notice him judging my appearance before some disgusting comment or touch that I feel I’m obligated to laugh off as something I secretly am flattered about and want to hear. I often start blushing from discomfort before it’s even made. Aaaand, fyi, I’m saving your ass from an awkward situation by not creating a scene, as everyone else clearly sees that this is inappropriate for this setting. Which makes the whole situation so much worse.

I’ve gotten so used to feeling without power or influence in these situations. And I’m so angry that it’s become a part of my identity. How I measure myself. It makes me wonder.. if I look like shit one day, will you point that out loud as well? Can you respect me in a tight dress? Are you even fucking listening? If I set boundaries and get mad at you will you still want me as a friend, am I no longer “cool”? Will I still be a part of the team? This workplace?

I know it might seem I’m only insecure or paranoid. But I’ve been proven right so many times. I’ve now started pitying these men. What they’re missing out on; Innovative, FUNNY, resourceful and kind women. Because I promise you, we hate you and wouldn’t want to spend one minute more with you than we have to. Let alone waste our treasures with you.

I don’t always do things because it makes me look desirable you know. And you’ve made me seek that.

So, I jump on this particular hashtag-wagon to say that I understand the magnitude of this and stand by all (mostly women) who’s been shaped and affected in a negative way by how they’ve been treated by the opposite sex in the wrong place at the wrong time (in the appropriate setting everyone appreciates a compliment). Be that if you’ve been sexually approached at work, catcalled, made uncomfortable, lost self-respect and dignity, felt degraded, forced sexually or just plainly felt that your main attribute was your looks.

Here’s a photo to make me look less of a victim, and to say that I look down on you and I will eventually end up more powerful than you.

What’s in a name? Or a word?

by  on  in Philosophy, The life • 12 Comments

Celebrated my friend’s birthday on Monday. I wore my birth name’s design. Victoria.

(obviously never forget that I was born Victoria A. She Victoria B.)

Did you know that? I don’t see why you would, but I was Victoria until kindergarten. For about two or three years of my life I was officially a c.

A cunt.

Let’s just let that linger a bit.

Oh my god, I’m laughing so hard of myself. At myself. With myself. And all of the above. Because that’s just ridiculous. I still am one.

Ok, I’m done now I swear. On my Victoria Beckham suit.

Anyways, my parents apparently changed it at the age of two or three to Viktoria..! Because everyone just assumed that this Norwegian brown eyed girl was called the Norwegian equivalent to the English name, Victoria. They just saw life as much easier if they’d just change it..! That easy, haha, they changed it. I mean, what a hassle am I right? Explaining to everyone that you’re a c…

Little did they know I wouldn’t have much explainin’ to do as I got older. People would know straight away I was a c.

Seriously, no more cunt-jokes. And don’t you dare get surprised by me using it. It’s been made an ugly word for a non-ugly thing. Maybe one of the few things everyone need in life. I mean, where would any of us be without them? We wouldn’t..! Sure, the world, I mean the planet and all the animals, plants and fishiies sharing it’s surface would’ve been better off without them.

But, still. We’d be fucked. At the same time as we couldn’t. Not without life. And c’s.

We shouldn’t go make it ugly by being offended by using it. It’s a beautiful thing. Let’s take it back and make it beautiful.

For us.

Just us.

Here’s a grapefruit.

And I do love my new name.

Leave it be, dance and be fucking free

by  on  in Beauty, Philosophy, The fashion, The life • 7 Comments

I got the gift of food last night from a friend who appreciates food as much (maybe even more, we’ll find out over a fight one day) as I do and it was wonderful. WONDERFUL! Fine dining at it’s best. If you’re in Bergen and love tiny expensive food, seriously, check it out. You die. A little bit.

Colonialen

Also got this sweater from my mom so it was a very good day indeed yesterday.

I never shop myself. I spend all my money on student-loans, foundation, food, wine and lotion. So every time someone buys me something (usually the other one) I feel sooooo special and I wanna live in it till the day I die.

Woke up at eleven pretty hungover. Many courses means many wines. So many good wines.

So I’m very happy right here today. The bar’s been lowered and this is the best thing there is.

Do both, I say. Wouldn’t want that thigh-gap sneaking up on you either.

So now I’m sitting here looking at my ironing board

feeling drawn to the tv where I put on the show that forces celebrities to dance in skimpy outfits. Hilarious. Brave. Brave as fuck actually.

But as tired as I may be (I’ve been vertical for some time now -getting better) I feel so good. SO good. I’ve been feeling so sad lately. Over my thigh-gap. Haha. But seriously. There used to be a gap in my thighs now it’s a gap in my life.

I’ve been struggling with the fact that I’ve turned into a healthy grown up woman. I’ve never been so far down this road (weight-wice, guys). I’ve always been scared of imagining this point thinking that if I’d imagined it it could become true. I’m terrified of what’s gonna happen if I don’t turn around and start running the other direction soon. The rest of the story I haven’t written? I have no idea what’s gonna happen now? How will it end, which direction must I go , heck -I don’t even know for sure what the plot is anymore??

One thing’s for sure, I’m NEVER saying never ever again EVER in my life.

That’ll never be me.

I’ll never do that.

Because there you are one day.. eating not only every four hours or so but your own words. I seriously thought I’d never weigh over 50 kg again.

Ever.

I told myself that not only wouldn’t I allow that to happen, but that I was above that. If I thought of it as an impossible act – it would be. The ridiculousness of it all would cause an earthquake before that would even begin to think about maybe happen in the foreseeable future. Like my pride and superior way of thinking – soaring above other human’s primitive needs would shield me from loosing control in any way and actually live my life like a full person. A free person.

I must laugh at how little I’ve weighed over the years and actually thought of myself as fat. As this number to be my limit. My “roof” of numbers showed on a scale. And that I’d never get this fat again and start loosing weight the very next day. I’ve learned my lesson these last few weeks and will probably have to learn it again; just never.. Never say anything to yourself about yourself ever again. Don’t assess yourself, don’t think about what was and what is to be. Just fucking leave yourself alone. Most likely I’ll weigh more than I do today at some point. Just thinking that makes me wanna vomit in my mouth, let alone writing it for others to read. I feel fat now. Hahahahaha, I’m killing myself I’m too funny.

Anyways. I’ll leave myself alone now, let my beautiful, slightly softer body be and enjoy this glorious day with all the glorious assholes I look very much up to at the tv.

I, too, shall dance today..!

HAVE THE BEST FRIDAY AND WEEKEND EVER!!!!

maxed out cards and thighs

by  on  in The life • 1 Comment

Every day is pajama day these days it seems.

When I haven’t been out drinking wine obviously. I blame the cycling championship last week. And the sun. I seriously went out three times last week ! Definitely not nineteen anymore.. Definitely used my MasterCard.

I miss my thigh-gap. I lost it over the summer and there is a grief.

I wouldn’t call myself particularly balanced nowadays. Lot of ups and downs. So I’m fleeing, keeping myself busy. Which is fine I guess. Until you stop. I am really tired, though. But what goes up eventually has to fall down, so I’m just going with it for now. Now I’m off to meet the little and the first one, filming and having a meeting about the glorious future. So happy she’s back. She’s been away for weeks..!!

And I need her in my life.

I have absolutely nothing more to say now. Sometimes you run – sometimes you stay. And I have to run!

Literally. I’m already late.

Nothing and everything

by  on  in Philosophy, The life • 18 Comments

I am exhausted today. Feeling particularly exhausted in my bed looking out the narrow crack in my dark and heavy curtains over my second cup of coffee listening to cheers of children. Children who don’t necessarily know what they’re cheering for, I imagine. But their teachers are cheering even louder, why wouldn’t they? Long pauses followed by new waves of excitement and cowbells. Like the tide they’re rolling in as new bikes approach with cars and motorcycles as their companions. It’s such a beautiful sound. Wet pavement making this sound that almost sounds like what your mouth and tongue does when you barely open and close it rapidly.

Debating in my head whether I should peel myself off the bed, put some clothes on and start the million things I put off yesterday and swore to myself I’d do first thing, or just sleep till dark. I’m passively in this debate for a long time. Two hours gone. Three. The cheering as well. The silence so loud I can’t focus on anything, really. So I again turn to you. My friend, my hero, person who’s sick of me, my voice and sometimes (seems like) my only reason. A single tear of gratitude rolls down my cheek, to you. Surprisingly overwhelmed by gratitude for you for letting me talk to you and you for listening. I feel so much love for people today. My chest actually knots itself and it almost hurts to think of all the beautiful people. In this really difficult, beautiful thing that is life. So many stories inside all of these people and so much to learn. Tears are uncontrollable now and I think I just found the conclusion of my debate. I’m gonna get up and try, because that’s what we do.

Breakfast, no question about it. Crying over breakfast. Vacuuming. Crying like a toddler when cord gets caught up beneath the door to my living room. Fucking piece of shit cord. I’m gonna step on you, cord, tug you like a cross fitter tosses them big ropes if you don’t come fucking here right now..! A moment of telling myself to get my shit together, reminding myself of all the other shit, worse shit, going on in the world. A chuckle followed by new tears. Feeling ridiculous, wondering about all the other people feeling just as small and ridiculous as I at this very moment. I pass the mirror and see my tired eyes, realizing I actually don’t care. Refreshing.

Mom and the first one wants to take me out to the movies tonight. A joyful tear now accompanied by a smile, knowing that this day shall pass too. We’re all right.

Aicha Bouhlou, you gave me pesto and a whole new look on potatoes.

by  on  in The life, The skin, Uncategorized • 7 Comments

Look at dis.

So happy.

I’ve never spent more time in the kitchen as I’ve done lately. I’m seriously learning how to make something new almost every day. It’s amazing. I’m so grown up and so very cool.

Even if it’s as simple as pesto. So easy. So elegant. How fucking classy to have friends over serving them fucking home-made hummus and pesto??! I almost can’t even with my new self.

I’ve always had a thing for foods with more ingredients than I’ve got fingers on my hand, though. It’s usually not good for you and you’ll probably die of cancer as a result of it.

On the other hand..! I’ve never beaten myself up about eating sour candy either. I honestly think that as long as you LOVE whatever it is you’re eating – it’s perfectly good for you. if you’re enjoying every bite it’s a healthy relationship. With food.

Your food relationship.

Purest most honest relationship you’ll ever have

…

I’m so serious it’s not even funny.

BUT! I’ve always tried to make my cookies, sauces and other stuff myself rather than buying the ones at the supermarket, you know? (obviously also buy the shit ones sometimes) But It’s all the numbers and names I can’t pronounce on the back (I can only assume aren’t foods) I try to avoid.

This mayonnaise, though.

That shit would just not happen and I need to call my friend Aicha next time.

But seriously, thank you for this.

This pie-making-session on the other hand.. (not from her cookbook)

How sexy is this?

The rollin’..

the flippin’..

the bubblin’ of the blueberries under the crispy surface made by almost only BUTTER!!!!

I die. Of pride.

Not making a habit out of this btw, don’t worry. Internet has enough pictures of amateur-food and I’m obviously aware of the fact that no-one needs to, nor should know what anyone eats at all times.

If you’re anything like me is variation the center of your diet. If I’ve eaten cheese, prosciutto and Christmas stick-meat for forever I tend to crave salads and vegetables at some point. If I’ve eaten a lot of sweet foods I tend to go savory afterwards. And now I’m obviously in a very curious period where all I wanna do is cook things from scratch and learn EVERYTHING green. The other night I spent four hours making dinner! Haha! I started around six, thinking we’d eat around eight -it was past TEN before we could sit down and die over falafels. The other one was happy though. He’s a nocturnal creature with an appetite that peaks around midnight. Whereas mine does at around one to three in the afternoon.

Anyways. Other one left yesterday and I drank just the perfect amount of wine at a new restaurant opening with my new friend and sommelier I met (and instantly developed what I can only assume is a longterm friendship with) as he served me beautiful food at Colonialen (I know – fooood, wine and MORE FOOOOD).

So today I’m only eating potetkaker with just the perfect amount of butter. I’ve had five so far.

 

Sunday-Monday-Election-Day! Yay!

by  on  in Philosophy, The life, Uncategorized • 12 Comments

Me and the other one went out on a much-needed date last night, and it was the best date EVER!!!!

So important.

Because boredom is always around the corner if you don’t make an effort. And I find we don’t talk about stuff at home..?! Like adult stuff. Intellectual stuff. Such as celebrity gossip and the costs of fossil fuels. It’s so weird. We go on about our lives, we’re in the apartment at the same time all the time, but not together, right? Obviously would go crazy if we were up in each others shit all the time, but sitting down talking.. I think that went out the window as soon as the television reached the average household.

Anyways. Today it’s Election Day and we have a GREAT night ahead. I’m not particularly involved in politics and have occasionally been one of those shits who didn’t vote

I know.. Shit.

But today I made my way down and voted. The other one holding my hand. Feeling very grown up and patriotic (also just watched Suffragette and am therefore having mixed emotions of women empowerment, guilt, and a bit of shame).

I do think it’s the cynic in me telling me it doesn’t matter what I do, though. World’s going to shits anyways, what I do, what Norway does, doesn’t really matter..? I don’t know. But it feels good! Caring, taking part in the hopes of a better future. Obviously can’t have that kind of negative attitude anymore and this is me now.

This attitude. Leaning up against the wall. No shits given.. Disgusting.

So here I’ll be for the rest of the evening. Sitting on red. Surrounded by green. Wearing blue.

And also, since I’m slowly turning into a responsible grown-up (at the very least definitely planning to over the next thirty years), I have been more involved in this election. We all need to. Especially after the whole situation our friends in the west are finding themselves in. Yikes.

I’m also making blueberry pie for the occasion. Because pie is the easiest cake-like thing to make without dairy. So I’m pretty stoked about that. So stoked I didn’t even shower. My hair can now stand on it’s own.

Only thing left to say now is Godt Valg!

ROSACEA DIET WTF

by  on  in Beauty, The life, The skin • 23 Comments

For the first time in my life I’m on a DIET! Whaaaat?!

It’s not a health-thing. At all. It’s a skin-thing. After spending many years, thousands of NOK, three painful laser treatments (which made me so swollen at one point I almost couldn’t open one of my eyes), antibiotics, some acidic-treatment -thing that left some open wounds and my skin burning for hours after application leaving me unable to do anything other than holding ice in a bag to my face (white girl problems, I know. But still, any issue, big or small to others, is as painful and big of a deal as it feels to YOU). SO! I have now started a.. I’m gonna call it Rosaiet! Haha. Diet just doesn’t sit right with me. Anyways. It’s basically just avoiding stuff that triggers flare-ups and worsening the condition overall. Mainly it’s food that release histamine, pungent / sour vegetables, citrus fruits and foods that are hard to digest. Dairy and red meat. And of course, the devil itself. Sugar.

In Italy. Not current state. Just current feels.

Lot of this is easy. Sugar is easily replaced by honey. Red meat I almost never eat anyways. Citrus I’ve always felt to be inflammatory, therefore somewhat avoided. I’ve never drank milk, just almond milk. Used to be soy milk actually, but also supposed to avoid soy. Quite bummed actually, soy yoghurt was a part of my everyday breakfast. But the hardest things are actually vegetables..! Who knew??! And chocolate and wine gum obviously. The hardest thing to give up so far includes the following:

Tomatoes, avocado, egg-plant, onion, carrots, bananas. Who knew, right?! Bananas? Histamine?!!!

Cheese (can still eat goat and -cottage cheese, thank you very much)

Ham and raw stuff that goes with the cheese. As well as figs. Haha. I have to change a lot of things apparently. Gimme the bread.

Spices (e.g. ginger, pepper and cumin, soy sauce and vinegar). Obviously chili, but I’ve avoided this forever and am not that stupid.

Anything containing sugar. Yay.

THIS IS NOT ABOUT ME EATING BETTER, CLEANER OR HEALTHIER. Obviously sugar is killing us, but that’s not the point. DO NOT MISTAKE THIS FOR AN INSPIRING EAT THIS – DON’T EAT THAT POST. THIS IS FOR ROSACEA VICTIMS.

(most of the stuff I’m avoiding is healthy anyways, okay. So just stop)

Thank the Universe I can indulge in pasta, bread and all starch one can imagine. Just too bad I can’t mix any of it with tomato sauce. And pizza I’ll make myself from now on. Sundays just have to change from now on. I’ll put.. I don’t know, but I’m sure I’ll figure it out. San Marino Pizza on the corner will lose a dedicated sunday-customer.

Current state. Skin really good today actually.

But I’ll have to get creative! And I love focusing on food and cooking in a positive manner. What CAN I eat and HOW can I make it fabulously tasteful? And it’s not like it is for ever. I’ll do this for maybe a couple of months, see what happens, then start including things one by one.

On a different note -newfound respect for people dining out with allergies..! Wow. Tried going to an Italian restaurant without having tomatoes or dairy. She hooked me up with something eventually, but looked as uncomfortable and shocked as I felt. What if one’s allergic to dairy and don’t like tomatoes? Or just a vegan with a fucked up vegetable palette? I almost just asked for plain pasta, melted butter in a cup with a cucumber on the side.

On a positive note I had waffles for dinner yesterday. Which is fun. I can now and simply must now just eat whatever I can of whatever the fuck I can, at ALL times. I am very aware of this not turning into a negative excluding and perfecting of my diet. And so far I’ve actually eaten more “real foods” than I’d normally do. Probably because I never satisfy my real cravings. Like chocolate or ice cream, yoghurt and fruits. Never realized how much fruit I ate..

Things I do ignore though (one must also live and I would actually have to jump out of my kitchen window) includes the following:

White wine and sparkling wine (I avoid red wine, spirits and beer. Luckily cocktails’ve never been my thing. Red’s definitely the worst for rosacea and makes me swell up like a roasted tomato before bursting-point. So I’ve been avoiding that for a while now..)

Coffee

Exercise

It also says stress everywhere, which makes me laugh. Like if it was an option any of us would chose to do so.

And that’s it for this post. Happy eating and have a great rest of the week! I’m feeling strong and positive, quite stoked actually to have a whole new focus on my eating.

It’s all about what we CAN do to make our situation better. Not what we CAN’T do! Go, Us!!

Feeling as open and ready for a world full of wonders as these curtains we were forced to experience in the most random hotel I’ve ever been in, look. You’ve guessed it. Not Italy. Germany. Ugliest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.

Now, did someone say pancakes for breakfast? I think I did.

What is FARIKAL really about, you say..?

by  on  in Beauty, The fashion, The life, Uncategorized • 7 Comments

I just quickly want to explain what FARIKAL is about and what our aspirations for the future are.

FARIKAL consists of

Stine Malene Foss Berg : Partner and Graphic Designer.

Iben Berstrøm : Partner and Head of Marketing and Communications.

Viktoria Lutterloh Aksnes : Partner and Fashion Designer.

FARIKAL started with Iben Bergstrøm’s realization of the huge lack of information about Norwegian craft techniques. This quickly resulted in the three of us coming together deciding to change that, little by little.

We’re very patient.

FARIKAL is all about two things:

Preservation and representation through reinvention of Norwegian heritage and crafts. We want to focus on bringing history and character into the products we produce. There are so many beautiful Norwegian crafts yet to discover and make more current, especially for younger generations. FARIKAL wishes to be in the lead of providing that for not only Norwegians but for the rest of the world.

Producing slow sustainable fashion as opposed to the dominating socially and environmentally destructive mass production in the fashion industry we see today and through building closer relationships to producers and buying more local raw-materials we hope to contribute to the movement of increasing our respect for fashion – decreasing our consumption. Making our consumers aware of our product’s history and origin we wish to encourage consumers to shop with more emotions and more appreciation. As we all know our beautiful planet can not keep up with our consumption, so this is and has to be the future way.

We are so proud and excited to find ourselves in the process of producing (right here in Norway..!) THREE garments inspired by our Craft Collection A/W 2017 to be sold at the end of September. We decided to start off small, producing in a very limited quantity and will be selling them in our pop up in Bergen and webshop.

See our first Craft Collection at http://farikal.com and subscribe to our newsletter to see what’s going on!

All photos by Øystein Grutle Haara
Model: Eleonor Katarina Bjerkelund
MUA: Miranda Aksnes
Hair: Jonas Jelti - Adam og Eva Bergen