Shallow be thy name?

Sometimes I feel so shallow. Like I've got no friends. Being brought up in diplomatic circles has its advantages and its curses, but sometimes, I wonder whether it has made any difference for me? Whether had I lived in Denmark my whole life, would I have had more friends? Would I have gone about this any differently? I'm not sure if it's a natural disposition, or if it's the result of living with my not-so-fabulous stepfather, The Ambassador, for 4-and-a-half years? I bet my psychologist would have an interesting view on this. If he were around. I'm blessed with a shrink who is not the most dependent or stable of professionals, but whom I stick with, because I don't think I can be bothered to start over again with someone new? Because he's seen the good and the bad, and - for better or for worse - now seems to have a pretty good idea who I am? And also, he instills in me a sense that it's all going to be alright? That I will find success, that I will find a job I enjoy doing, and make a comfortable living doing so. And I need that.

I need that stability right now, because lately, I've started to doubt myself. Doubt whether I am in reality able to do anything coherently, and in such a way as to make anyone pay me in any currency for my services? I've spent the better part of a year now, trying to write my thesis. The first 6 months, I had a job. Then I moved with my wife to a new city, and gave up my job as a result, vowing to write the thesis full time. But now the professor, whom I thought would see me through, has up and left me, and I'm looking at starting over for the 4th time (yes - fourth. So, in essence, I've never spent more than 3 months on any giving thesis-subject. Hunky dory, nicht war?). I am having trouble digging myself out of bed every morning - my hearts not in it? What good is this thesis? What the fuck does it matter? It might get me a better salary - then again, I might become so horribly frustrated with it, that I have to spend years and years recovering? Who knows. I just want to get the hell out of Dodge - get it over with, and be on my merry way. I'm going to be someone's Father in two months, for Christs sake?!? "Congratulations son: your Dad's still writing his thesis, and currently holds no job. Luckily, it's not a problem for you, because your Mother's family is of solid means, and so you'll never have to go hungry or live without a roof over your head."

But it fucks with my mind. I want to be the provider? The breadwinner. The man of the house. The husband who buys his wife the Merc for her 40th birthday, and whisks her away to exotic locations and impromptu nights out at fabulous eateries / breathtaking operas / enlightening entertainment / stupendous shopping. Also, I want to be there for the kids - don't want to become an absentee-Dad like my own. And definitely - definitely - not an arms-length father-figure like The Ambassador. Fuck him. Metaphorically. Only a year ago, when visiting them in their new country of temporary residence, I seriously contemplated putting my fist through his face. Mature, isn't it? Then again, I was only 27 at the time...

Well, well, well - this is certainly one of my darker rants, isn't it children? But that's the way it's got to be: take the good with the bad, the light with the dark. And do this knowing that most of the time, I am so good and light that most mortals cannot hold a candle to me. And no, that's not narcissistic. It's fact. Dixi.

Musical regression

Whatever happened to Ed Kowalczyk, Chad Taylor, Patrick Dahlheimer and Chad Gracey - otherwise known as Live? I suddenly today got a mad penchant for their music, and had to find their CDs (shock, horror - HARDWARE-music?!?) and rip them into my favourite media-platform (yes, I'm a mac-bigot, and so use iTunes. Live with it., after which I've been listening, thinking back, reliving my youth, spent playing air-guitar with my walk-man plugged into my ears so far, that to the uninitiated observer, it would appear I had wires coming straight out of my ears. Ahh: youthful bliss and ignorance. From the time before semi-adult angst and mortgage-pains set in. Hmm. Think I'll go back and escape some more...anything to get away from my f*cking thesis, which is - litterally - busting my balls. The bad way.



This, of course, is the cover of their first, and (imho) best, album.

New phone situation

Just thought I should follow up on the Qtek 9100 / iMate Jam post: decided not to get it. Primarily because there's no way to sync data between my Mac and Windows Mobile 5.0 yet. I had a fiddle with the new 3G Nokia slider, the 6280.


Looks really good - the OS is fast, the screen is clear (and surprisingly big). I just can't figure out if I'm ready to go back to Nokia after such a long stint with SonyEricsson? I tried the 6680 a week ago, and wasn't impressed? So maybe, just maybe, I'll hold out for the SonyEricsson P990i. 3G, 2 mpixel camera, no Windows Mobile, WiFi, Bluetooth, should be able to iSync given SonyEricsson's track record with Macs...might be just what the doctor ordered actually? :-D

Here's a picture of it for you to take home and enjoy.

New wheels on the horizon

Ho - what wheels through yonder snowscape burst? Shakespeare aside, the family will soon grow from 2 to three, and in the process, new wheels are in order: the 2-seater will no longer cut it as a family transportation unit.

So. What to buy? Being Scandinavian, we are both quality-conscious, and want something that will protect and secure the family. Of course we're thinking Volvo - more specifically: the excellent Volvo XC90. And here's a nice photo of it.


The girl and I took it out for a test-drive on Sunday...and I was impressed. Having previously had a smack round in a Range Rover, a BMW X3 and a Jeep Wrangler, this is DEFINITELY more bang for your buck, if you'll pardon the analogy. It just feels so...unstoppable? Like a veritable safe on wheels? You sit there smirking, thinking to yourself what fun it might invariably be to sort of push the rest of traffic around, helpless as they would inevitably be to stop you or indeed do anything about it.

Now I'm a tall sort of bloke. And not the most narrow-shouldered either. But this thing...just swallowed me whole?? AMPLE room for me and the missus - and love that the middle rear seat can be pushed forward, so as to make the toddler easily accessible from the front seats. And it comes with a standard air-quality system (ie. AC), but it does more than make hot and cold air: it actively filters polution particles, scent (you know when you clean your windows and you can smell the fluid? Tried it. Didn't smell a single thing. Seriously.) and pollen. Pollen! As I am very allergic to grass-pollen (my doctor says I should spend april through october outside of Northern Europe. I asked her if she'd pay? She said no.), this is beyond cool in my book.

But the downer: it will run us DKK 800.000 - that's 107.206 US dollars. You gotta love the taxes in this country... In Sweden, a mere pebble-toss away, the same car would run us DKK 370.000 (US$ 49.500). Below half price. And in Sweden, that price includes the navigation-system, which will run you DKK 48.000 (US$ 6.400). For the first time ever, I'm actually jealous of the Swedes...

Guess we'll have to see if we can: swing an amazing discount / trade-in / sell my body. Cause I want that car for my new family in the worst way...