Kategori: Kims blog

Stod op. Solen skinnede, Jeg vidste det havde været en bedre aften end igår, fordii både min cykel og min pung var steder jeg vidste hvor var. Op på cyklen. Kysse konen. Solen skinner. Meget. Og der rammer jeg riget, køber 12 øl og solen skinner endnu. Martin, Lasse, og Sigurd vores nye ven, står i solen og ser ramt ud. I bussen gør pressepasset sit magic, får os gratis med og jeg brillerer med islandsk og får den gamle chauffør til at skrue op for radioen. Kl. 13 skinner solen stadig. Fra en skyfri himmel. Og vi er i den blå lagune. Musikken spiller fra højttalerne, solen skinner, øllen flyder og det er topdollar. Kl. 3:30 misser mig og martin bussen. Går ind og køber 4 øl på vores elektroniske armbånd for at sunde os lidt. Kl. 17:30 lader vi som om vi er canadiere og får et ride home. Uden at betale. He. Well. Nu skal vi videre. Hej hejl

- 3 kommentarer til Fuck hvor tog det lang tid at skrive det her…

Puha. Så stod vi der, med pressepasset siddende løst, lunken gin i lommen og Datarock for fuld udblæsning oppe på scenen. Vi er akkrediteret som fotografer, så Martin er vores her og nu fotograf fordi han tager polaroider, jeg binder det hele sammen med Web fordi jeg har et digital kamera og Lasse er fra Rusland fordi han render rundt med Lomo. Hvor fanden er min cykel? Hvem var det Martin snavede med? Jeg håber det er en god tegnefilm vi skal se på arbejdet. Dansk er et fantastisk sprog når man bytter rundt på H og V. Well, ingen billeder, men vi har det griner. Og i aften kommer Erla med ud og fester. Og i morgen er der tømmermænds party i den blå lagune…og gøjs, hvor har jeg det skidt, mathias.

- 1 kommentar til Skidtmathias

Tag dette Kys, og tusind til, du Søde

Ja, jeg skal jo så arbejde til 22 og drengene lander i aften, så der er ikke meget romantik over det. Men jeg arrangerer at få ungerne passet og så finder vi et romantisk hotel i ødemarken et sted og tager langt væk – kun dig og mig… Tak for tre skønne år i ægteskabet, min søde – lad der blive mange fler´:-)

Som Emil ville sige det:

Tag dette Kys, og tusind til, du Søde,
Lad Øiet tale frit, Amor indskrænker
Kun Stemmens plumpe Sprog; og i hans Lænker
Er Kys, Omfavnelser ei nogen Brøde.

Jo tiere sig vore Læber møde,
Jo meer beruust paa ingenting jeg tænker.
Min Prosa jeg til Cancelliet skjænker
Og saa kan Riim og Vers elskværdigst gløde.

Vel føler jeg, for Elskovsild tilfulde
Er Formen, skal den være reen og plastisk
Kun den, som dine Arme aabner, Hulde

Men for min Tænksomhed et Net jeg fletter
For mine Viisdomsuk, et ret elastisk,
Og dog et smukt og snevert, i Sonetter.

- 3 kommentarer til 3 års bryllupsdag…

Idag er sneen på Esjan så nået halvejs ned til jorden. Og da jeg cyklede over vandpytterne i Laugardal lød der sprøde knæk fra den tynde is. Isen på Ilhans forrude kan stadig viskes af med lidt frostvæske sprøjt. Så jo, efteråret er så småt begyndt. Og da jeg skal lave et powerpoint show til vores Islandske aften i klubben imorgen, faldt jeg over det her…

You know you’re Icelandic when…

Snow tires are standard issue with all new cars.
You were frostbitten and sunburned in the same week.
You learned to drive a tractor before the training wheels were off your bike.
Going ‘down south’ on a holiday includes Canada and Norway.
Bird chirping at 3 AM in July in normal.
You have a passport to leave the island.
You don’t get a coughing fit from one sip of Brennivín.
Your idea of creative landscaping is a tree.
Wearing high heals and a skirt, and going out dancing is ‘normal’ during a hurricane.
You were unaware there is a legal drinking age.
You decided to have a picnic this summer because it fell on a weekend.
You enjoy driving in the winter because the potholes fill with snow.
Your sexy lingerie is tube socks and a flannel nightie.
News headlines read ‘Cow born in Strútafjörður’.
At least once a year, a family member’s kitchen doubles as a meat processing plant.
At times, your second floor balcony doubles as a front door.
You find 0 degrees Celsius a little chilly.

Icelandic weather!

+15°C / 59°F
This is as warm as it gets in Iceland, so we’ll start here. People in Spain wear winter-coats and gloves. The Icelanders are out in the sun, getting a tan and eating ice cream.

+10°C / 50°F
The French are trying in vain to start their central heating. The Icelanders plant flowers in their gardens.

+5°C / 41°F
Italian cars won’t start. The Icelanders are cruising in Saab cabriolets.

0°C / 32°F
Distilled water freezes. The water in River Hvitá gets a little thicker.

-5°C / 23°F
People in California almost freeze to death. The Icelanders have their final barbecue before winter.

-10°C / 14°F
The Brits start their central heating system in their home. The Icelanders start using long sleeves.

-20°C / -4°F
The Aussies flee from Mallorca. The Icelanders end their Mid-summer celebrations. Autumn is here.

-30°C / -22°F
People in Greece die from the cold and disappear from the face of the Earth. The Icelanders start drying their laundry indoors.

-40°C / -40°F
Paris starts cracking in the cold. The Icelanders stand in line at the hotdog stands.

-50°C / -58°F
Polar bears start evacuating the North Pole. The Icelandic Navy postpones their winter survival training, awaiting real winter weather conditions.

-60°C / -76°F
Lake Mývatn freezes. The Icelanders rent a movie and stay indoors.

-70°C / -94°F
Santa moves south. The Icelanders get frustrated since they can’t store their Brennivín (Icelandic brand of alcohol) outdoors. The Icelandic Navy goes out on winter survival training.

-183°C / -297.4°F
Microbes in food don’t survive. The Icelandic cows complain that the farmers’ hands are cold.

-273°C / -459.4°F
ALL atom-based movement halts. The Icelanders start saying, “it’s cold outside today.”

-300°C / -508°F
Hell freezes over; Iceland wins the Eurovision Song Contest.

- 1 kommentar til Icelandic facts :-)

Efter 3 ugers nørderier, med op- og nedgraderinger af firmware, gennemlæsning af utallige forums osv. så kører vores danske nummer nu igen: 46 93 30 60, I ringer til alm. dansk fastnettakst. Fucking IT – og det skulle gøre livet lettere. Yeah right 🙂

Erlas mors mand, Sveinn, er ved at stille op som spidskandidat for sit parti til næste folketingsvalg. Og her om ikke så lang tid, så kommer hans hjemmeside i luften. Indtil da kan man se et udkast af siden her – designet af undertegnede (som er specielt vild med LightBox effekten på billederne i billede galleriet). Er der problemer med at se noget på siden, modtages kommentarer gerne. Og kender I andre islandske politikere som skal have en hjælpende hånd, så send dem denne vej…

Imorgen lander Troels og Louise så. Det bliver superfedt. Jeg holder ungerne hjemme fra institutionerne, så vi kan komme i svømmeren fredag formiddag. Og så skal onkel og faster så passe nevøerne i 4 timer mens jeg er på job fra kl 13-17. Derefter skal Troels og Louise med til Teenage Horror Ball i klubben (fredag d. 13), fra kl. 19-23 og så er der oktober fest weekend i Reykjavik, både på universitetet og på barerne i byen – så gang i den. Lørdag og søndag skal ihvertfald indbefatte havbadning og evt. en tur til de varme kilder som jeg så med far.

Nåh, nu skal jeg på job igen – et eller andet geni har foreslået at vi skal have udendørs-spil i klubben iaften. Men grundet kulden, så er folk vel aktive i det mindste. Og så skal der males trylledej. Jeg forventer udfordringerne måske stiger en anelse når jeg nu også begynder som dansklærer om 3 uger…

Peace – Kim

- 6 kommentarer til DK Telefonen virker igen…

This fall, Iceland as a nation has caused quite a bit of turmoil in the Kingdom of Denmark. Not only did Baugar Group buy several large malls and an airline, but Icelandic Dagsbrun also started the Danish version of the free newspaper Fretiirbladid. They thereby initiated the so-called newspaper-war in Denmark, and if you live in Copenhagen these days, then you have daily access to no less than five free newspapers – all of them just hunting ad-revenue, making news a side story. There goes the rainforest. So from a Danish view, Iceland seems to bee a nation of initiative, wealth and beautiful nature. Why did Denmark let go of the country in 1944?

I have recently moved to this bit of paradise, and now when all the wow has faded a bit, there are certain things about Icelanders that make me go hm.

Driving
I seem to me that the evolution of Homo Sapiens here on Iceland has found it necessary to show his might and strength to Mother nature, by buying big-ass cars that can conquer any mountain. With a truck as big as a one room apartment, you may accidentally come to think of yourself as indestructible. And superheroes brakes for nobody. Icelanders drive almost as bad as the French, but with bigger cars. The good side of this of course, is that you come to appreciate your life a lot more. Suddenly you live from moment to moment, savoring each day you actually survived in the fast paced track of Icelandic driving.

Shopping
I don’t know why they do it. Maybe I look fat, and they think that I could use some exercise. But every time I go shopping, the Icelanders have fun putting obstacles in the way. They don’t just cue up at the register, then pay and go home. No, they have time enough to leave their baskets and trolleys at the most annoying places in the store. And what do you do if you change your mind about some groceries? You just put that stupid 2kg pack of cornflakes in the fridge with the milk. But then again, it makes it more interesting to go shopping – free exercise and treasure hunting, what more can a man ask for…

Women talking
Married to a feminist and having a little sister as well, I promise that I’m not a macho sexist. But really, women in Iceland talk a lot. I know the normal female stereotype has always been tagged with a “geez, she talks a lot” side of her personality, but that stereotype must have derived from the women in Iceland. It must be the darkness in winter and the matriarchal tendencies that have made talking a national sport. Along with all the coffee, cakes and sweaters that follow. I guess that I’m sometimes happy that I don’t actually understand too much of the language here. It makes it plausible for me to make interesting assumptions about the subject at hand. I can sit there, with blood gushing out of my ears, with a silent smile on my lips and think “Yeah, they talk a lot, but at least they’re talking about rock music, movies and computers”. Aren’t you?

Language
To learn to speak a language only shared by 300.000 people is actually a form of social gold digging. In the world of globalization, the more rare an object you posses, the more rich you are. So, being an Icelander makes you unique. Being a foreigner that speaks Icelandic makes you even more so. And learning just a little Icelandic can definitely pay off. During my travels around the globe, the tourist phrases like “Where is the hotel?”, “Where can I play petanque?” and “Is your cats name really dog?” spoken in the native language always gave me points. But Icelanders are not just impressed if you speak Icelandic. They are suddenly behaving like intimate family, giving you big hugs, buying you beer and offering rides in their jeeps. It seems they know how silly words they have for microwave-oven (örbylgjuofn) and basketball-coach (körfuboltaþjálfari) – and that you have chosen to spend your life learning something that might be seen as a personal assessment when you go looking for that executive job.

Mamma loves her baby.
So what happens when you live with Mamma till your 30? We could start asking the Italian men. But we might as well ask the icelanders. My guess is: Nothing. Nothing really seroius happens as long as you live at home. Okay, a new car, a new haircut, a new girlfriend maybe. But thats not really that seroius. Except for the car maybe – thats very likely to be a big ass jeep. When Mamma takes care of the fridge and the rent, you might as well spent your income on wheels, I guess. I’m 29. I have two kids and a wife. And I simply don’t understand why the icelaners choose to be sheltered under Mammas caring wings untill they turn 30. Don’t they feel the urge for emanicipation? Don’t they need to define some personality and independence? What if you drag home a date – is the family breakfast fun? “Hi Mom, this is, erhh, Lola? She’s hungry too, can she eat with us?” “Better not sit there Lola, thats Daddys chair…” And so on. Well, if there are any icelanders out there reading this, then please shed some light, ’cause I don’t get it.

There are definitely more little quirks to be learned up here. Eating sheep heads, surviving during the long winter-night, understanding women, driving in snow and to drink beer like a man from Sahara are some of the forthcoming goals. But I’m adjusting and I’m happy. So so far, thank you Icelanders for welcoming me, you are an interesting bunch…

- 4 kommentarer til Iceland from the inside…

Hold da op! Så har Anna og Erla arrangeret at både hende, Jeppe og Liva komemr herop i November – det bliver super. Og Máni tæller dage!

Og Troels har bestemt sig for at kigge herop i en af de nærmeste uger, over en forlænget weekend så vi lige kan få os lidt bror til bror snak over en kop mjöd, mens vi hopper på Barinn og i poolen.

Og så lader det til at selveste Martin Ersted kommer herop og hjælper mig med promillerne til Airwaves, da han har vundet to billetter med fly og hotel… Yes! Jeg glæder mig rigtig, rigtig meget til at se jer alle sammen – det bliver gode tider 🙂

- 9 kommentarer til Og så væltede det ind…