Dere som påstår at Chuck er kjekkest i Gossip Girl – Hva er det som FEILER dere egentlig? Og dere som mener at Dan er kjekkest.. – WHAT?! Hallo? Ingen av dem kan jo måle seg med Nate. Han er jo mye vakrere, kjekkere og deiligere enn alle de andre til sammen. Altså. Dere er gærne.  Jeg lager en liste over menn jeg skal gifte meg med, og for å si det sånn: Nate er på listen. Det er ikke Chuck eller Dan eller noen av de andre (men Rufus er faktisk ganske close).

Hvis noen har tips til andre lister det er ønskelig at jeg lager, så er det bare å si ifra altså. Jeg kan skrive lister om både sofaer, julenisser, blomster, døde mennesker, internettsider, filmer fra 60-tallet.. whatever. Gi meg en hvilken som helst listeoppgave og jeg gjør den med glede! Unntak er lister som er skremmende perverse eller inneholder ordet bæsj. Ellers er jeg med på det meste.

The phrase “break your heart” now has such a negative, almost ruthless connotation, but if you strip off the layers of triteness from overuse and cultural context, it’s one of the most beautiful, uplifting, poetic phrases in our language.

Because you see…
a broken heart is a heart that has been healed.
a broken heart is a heart that has reached its acme, its most perfect form, for it is when our hearts are completely broken that our hearts resemble God’s…for isn’t His heart continually breaking for us?
a broken heart is a heart that is whole, complete, for it is when we are broken of ourselves, of our desires, of our self-dependence that the Holy Spirit can reside and overflow within us.
a broken heart is vulnerability, and vulnerability is the highest form of courage (in my opinion).

a beautiful paradox huh?

“If it doesn’t break your heart it isn’t love.” Switchfoot

i wanted to have one of those homes everyone came to for the holidays. its not about the size of the house…just the comfort of the home…where everyone feels at home

a front hall to meet and greet…with convenient coat closet (or child with waiting arms to carry the overflow to a waiting bed top)

i wanted the house filled with loud laughter…boisterous hellos and excited chatter.

mom would always pay a florist to come swag and decorate during the holidays. always felt posed in her house with perfect arrangements and no sign of children.

Lilly and i were a bit messier…and i’d be the mom who’d always hang the children’s artwork…let’s frame it Aslan, ok? frame it like is should be in a museum and cut snowflakes for the windows with them!!! snowflakes and hearts and pumpkins…each in their own season.

i miss making holiday cookies and cakes with grandma. i tried to do a lil bit of that last year…handed out in basketsand ribbons from the bargain bin at the dollar store. nobody knew what they were. no one makes homemade gifts anymore.

at the cottage i have a small stash of raspberry and strawberry jam that was meant for gifting this year. jam…Aslan likes honey…idk if he likes jam.

lil things here and there i would have liked to take a lifetime to figure out in person.

(if you’re wondering. i dont do cream cheese on my bagel…butter with strawberry jam, please…and Lilly and i usually share one bagel, thank you.)

tired again…lying down… Happy Thanksgiving!!! hope it is filled with laughter and smiles.

in the fantasy world of smiles and kisses…i’d never be without because i’d always have him…and every day would be wonderful because i would hear his deep sweet playful voice.

Höst och kallt har det blivit nu. Inte så kul nu som man tyckte i somras när värmen var som värst.

Idag blir det varma mackor till stackars lilla mig som har så ont

Cadii

Yesterday, we played host to a new local/national initiative to foster debate within the art world. The debate was titled Steady State and was hosted by MMM, which stands for Missions, Models, Money and Era21

Attendees included the heads of Arts Council North East, Baltic, Centre for Life, Live Theatre, NFM, GNAF – and arts and policy chiefs from Government Office North East and Newcastle City Council.

Speakers were:

The debate ranged widely over arts policy in the challenging economic climate, the power of art to engage with the excluded and the conundrum that amateur participation doesn’t necessarily lead to greater audience uptake.

Really great to see that the established institutions can springboard off the debates to see the organic nature of what we’re creating at Hoults, which is equally valid and challengingly freef0rm for today’s market. With 400+ people working out of the yard in 50+ creative media firms, we’re reinterpreting the old model of monolithic dinosaurs and turning our cohort into a very active collaborative community.

NFM kindly agreed to host the meeting – not quite sure who paid for the cakes but they were scrummy.

Going a few days without my glasses (as per usual, i fell asleep whilst reading a book, my glasses fell off of my face sometime during the night, and i woke up with them underneath pillow… lenseless) renewed my gratitude for sight, for the vibrant hues of sunsets, the subtle facial contortions of loved ones, the crisp text printed on pages of good good literature (Bible!). But there is so much more to sight than physically sensing one’s surroundings… what a tragedy it would be to use these God-given eyes for merely taking in light and sending signals to the brain. Walking, more accurately fumbling, around school and having to sit a literal few inches from the board to copy notes, I realized how terrible my vision had gotten in the past eight years…

I don’t mean just my biological vision. Years of betrayal, hurt, and just plain confrontation with human nature had diminished my 20/20 vision traumatically… The 20/20 vision I had for beauty, for goodness. I realized I had become legally blind to those things; let me emphasize the “legal.” I had become cynical, developing an incorrigible doctrine reproaching the depravity of mankind and deeming mankind incurable of its curse.

I deemed faith as foolishness, for faith is the assurance of the things unseen. Faith in man meant blindness. so choosing hope rather than cynicism was simply choosing one blindness over the other, and I much preferred to be safe and guarded with cynicism than vulnerable and foolhardy with faith. What I fool I was (and am)…

For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the powers, against the world forces of this darkness, against the spiritual forces of wickedness in the heavenly places. Ephesians 6:12

But true sight takes into account all, the light signals sent to the brain by the physical objects around us, the experiences we have had with both the beauty & depravity in mankind, and most importantly, the unseen but very very real forces of this world. But these very real and moving forces are not just the principalities, the demons, the guerilla warfare of Satan but also LOVE, a force that trumps all (1 Corinthians 13), even DEATH, redeeming our ultimate depravity, reversing what was enmity between us and God into a kinship that allows us to be His CHILDREN!!!!! (ok… I know I am getting off tangent here, forgive me – I shall save this for another entry) but you get my point. LOVE conquers all. for God = Christ, God = Love, therefore Christ = Love and Christ is our eternal victory.

Praise God for a season of much healing and plain Holy Spirit goodness. These eyes are God given, and made in His likeness. To have God’s eyes means to see Love. Love Himself can only bear the sight of us because we are covered in Love, (Christ’s Love in the form of His blood). By His wounds we are healed. To want “new” eyes is not very accurate considering my eyes were originally intended to be like His, so instead I will say I am renewing my eyes. What freedom there is in the blood of Christ!

My cynicism and judgmental attitude towards this generation is now an all consuming heartbreak for those who are broken. My heart swells and bursts when I see the nakedness, the need for the covering of Christ. By training my eyes to see love, I also see the lack of love, the need for love, the silent but desperate cries for TRUE LOVE. We are a royal priesthood; we have the authority to intercede for these people! PRAISE GOD! May I renew my eyes daily to see through my Father’s eyes, and use this sight to be a light.

R.I.P. Derek Luther. If only I knew, I would have run to you and loved you.

För alla er som har missat det, så delar Marabou ut gratis choklad. Det handlar om deras senaste kreation, Caramelized almonds and Sea salt.

Max en per hushåll, men iaf.

Glid in på -> denna länk

OBS! Detta erbjudande gäller inte längre. Finns att köpa i butik i början på 2010.

“talk to you later” is such a funny expression…it leaves you with raised hope…increased anticipation, expectation, and overwhelming excitement for the possibilities…

until the time ticks and you start to reconsider its rather nebulas meaning.

i have dusted many people off with “talk to you later”…usually just after handing them a phony phone number (my apologies to Canandaigua Pizza Hut). i, on the other hand, have only been dusted off by the expression by only two individuals (multiply…but by only two people).

“talk to you later” commits no lie. it commits to no time frame at all.

“talk to you later” could come with earnest intent, as in: “talk to you later, i have to run because the dinner is burning on the stove and the baby is eating from the dog dish.” in that scenario, the person has relative intent to actually converse with you again in a very short while once they balance their immediate chaos.

“talk to you later” could also mean “talk to you later, the boss has just arrived, and if i’m caught in another personal conversation on the company time i’m sure to receive a chew-out session that will severely delay my manicure!” in this case, talking to you was an idle luxury and it WILL come again, just not as frequently.

and then there is the DREADED “talk to you later” (the one i was most guilty of for years!!!) it is quite simply a brush-off. if they could schedule a root canal to get out of talking to you, they undoubtedly would! it’s not that they are being untruthful, it’s just that what they really mean to say is “talk to you later…when hell freezes over!” (you just dont hear the last part because they have either already walked away or they’ve already hung up…disconnected…logged-off…you get the picture.)

“talk to you later” makes me anxious and paranoid. i know, without a doubt, i did something wrong…committed some act against humanity when i hear those words. and rightly so…i deserve to hear those words. it is my karma. as is the only man i ever fell in love with.

you see…i met him over 4 years ago (just about last week). well not met him, met him…i saw him enter from across the room…and suddenly the rest of the bar…the whole rest of the world actually…became hazy. and there he stood…weaving. drunk. dark with an underlying brooding and at once i knew i had to have him so i crossed the bar within a couple feet of this wonderous and tasty looking man…certain that he’d catch my gaze and be instantly attracted to me…but instead. i witnessed him looking straight through me and then falling “accidently” into a flat-chested blonde.

i was a sure thing…but he wasnt interested.

and though, on occasion, (of and on like intermittent wipers on a car with a dying battery) he’ll talk. i still cant seem to interest him. i wish i could get my brain to wrap around the notion that the most i will EVER get him to commit to is “talk to you later”…(and that’s pushing it)

so why is this particular post parked in the fantasy “smiles and kisses” blog? quite simple: pass the tears, beyond the ache from missing my daughter and the actual physical discomfort of having 4 tubes exiting my body…beyond the tearing my my chest, which i’m most certain is not my heart, but merely the cavity where my heart once was…there is a willful imagination (which he, by the way, constructed and brought to life!). it’s an imagination that will NOT let a dream die…it will not face the (THWACK–obvious)…because, as we quickly approach the holidays again…where the cool winds of reality are waiting to yank the plug on everything me by reminding me that i am sick and alone and alone and alone and alone and alone and unwanted (and did i mention alone?)

i dont care if i have begun this post at 6:13 AM and it is now 6:10 PM. I WILL WRITE MY ALTERNATE ENDING DESPITE POKING AND PRODDING, IN SPITE OF BOUTS WITH SICKNESS AND NAUSEA AND BLOOD LETTING. I WILL EVEN HAVE MY ALTERNATE ENDING DESPITE BUSY-BODY NURSES, AND PHONE MESSAGES TELLING ME HE USED ME (HE CANNOT BE STILL WITH YOU!!!) AND THE FUCKING ALARMS SOUNDING AND THEM TAKING THIS FUCKING MACHINE AWAY AS ANOTHER FORM OF ENDLESS HOSPITAL TORTURE!!!

this is not how it is supposed to be, do you hear me? so if nothing else…i will write my alternate ending in which Melissa Jolie Eider (age 26) is deeply loved by Aslan David Sweeney (age 30).

and after she finally wears down the staff at Strong Hospital, they permit the handsome Aslan to visit her. she calls him on the phone (which holds ONLY messages from her beloved to her) and tells him (voice to ear as commanded, because he will accept no substitutes this time!) to drop everything and come visit her.

upon his arrival, Melissa (who is in a long pink modest but elegantly sexy nightgown) is miraculously cured and she runs to his arms and he lifts her and twirls around with her.

her arms, at first around his neck , unwrap so that she can hold his face in her hands and she breathlessly asks him to teach her how to kiss him…kiss him in a way that lets him know how deeply she feels for him…and in a way that makes him finally understand that she was only meant to love and be with one man…him!

he looks intently in her eyes…silent in study…but with a tenderness that speaks volumes…his eyes seem to glow with meaning and his lips curl into his trademark smirk…pausing for just enough heat to build to just the right moment when he leans in and pulls her lips between his.

and there they stay…floating upon years of passionate wishes…the world unmoving around them. lips touching lips…her hands holding his face close…his arms about her waist holding her midair.

time stops…then rewinds…then stops again…because it is only them and nothing else matters

well nearly nothing…for at that moment when it occurs to them that nothing else matters…the elevator doors open to reveal a lil girl with cinnamon and gold hair and saphire eyes being lead by bland indescribable woman.

word of Melissa’s miraculous recovery has spread and the Department of Child Services has made great haste in tossing aside the mountains of paperwork and ratification calls in order to reunite a child and mother.

Lilly races across the floor first noticing Melissa…calling “Mamma!” but stops mid-hall when she sees Aslan’s grin. she instantly begins her tigger hop (to show great excitement and enthusiasm…)though her feet never actually leave the floor…and begins calling him by the only name she has ever called him.

walking to her, Aslan scoops her up and is instantly treated to a cascade of Lilly-kisses as Melissa tussles her lil curls and touches her sweet soft skin.

hours later they are home. one night at Aslan’s apartment with plans to face the cottage during the daylight of the next days.

he stays…well stays as often as he can without getting bored or feeling captive and stir crazy (all guys need freedom to escape and hang about with their friends) and they make plans to use the rest of the money

Aslan finally gets a passport and he and Melissa travel to Ireland and Italy (where they are joined by his mom, dad and the children).

and after a long while of selfish, unrestrained, lustful enjoyment and adventurous physical exploration, Aslan gives Melissa another child (or two or three…hehe…he is Irish afterall…and it feels so wonderful to have him…skin against skin…deep inside…always has!)

BIG SMILES

a house (a home), Lilly and one day Zach and other children

and an old fat dog to walk on the beach with

sry…cant do all the details i want. need to find a way to send him more money so Mike isnt left out and Zach is penalized. just once…i’d like to do something right, just once please!

Na da paßt doch meine Spielkarte gleich zu zwei Themen – einmal für MMM und einmal für TMTA – Blue Bird!!!!!!

Daddy set up a cool train track for the kids to play with.

The fact that Daddy has time (and patience) to put together such a cool track, and seeing the pure joy on the kids’ faces Makes My Monday!

Cheryl over at Twinfatuation hosts this one. Head on over to see what else makes people’s Mondays (there are always some really good ones!)

As you can tell we have a lot to do with our time. We are busy as ever. Still working hard to get our new office space ready. We keep getting surprised about how much work that goes into getting everything done. But now after tearing down the walls, putting up dry wall, putting up a ceiling, painting and doing electrics and a million other things we are aaalmost there. We can’t wait to invite you all down. Now it’s off to Ikea to get some desks!

Our good friend Kid came by to look at the new office ( and help wash windows) Thanks homie!

Eating like kings! Thanks mumu…

In between working our asses of we found time to play around. And what better way to use spare time then draw on each other. Jonas10’s big bro Rasmus came by jon’s crib to do some home tattooing. I decided on nothing less then Mr.Lucifer himself. Sorry Mom!

Rasmus doing his thing.

Bzzzzzzzz…

Jon showing his coffee pot and his coffee pot.

It was a long but fun night. Thanks Rasmus!

Last week I also got this shark with boxing gloves. This is the work of Amina from Brightside Tattoo.

Here we are at the Copenhagen Skatepark where we played models for a day when Gasque from Cityfellaz asked us to wear some of his boss clothes for the upcoming Cityfellaz lookbook. It was a fun night and a great party.

Le Monstre himself Gasque.

Snake Boi hangin out in photographer Simon Weyhe’s cosy office.

It’s gonna be fun to see how the pictures will turn out. Modelling is not our strong side!

That’s it for now. Catch y’all later

- Martin

When I logged into my Fishful Thinking Ambassador’s portal this morning, I saw two things that made me smile.

The first was my name on the list of winners for the week. (Who can’t use an extra $50 around the holidays??)

(Please excuse the black-outs…personal information that’s not mine to share.)

And second was a Top Idea mark for my post on Saturday!

Not only does receiving accolades Make My Monday, but being a part of such a wonderful community does as well (probably even more so…)

Cheryl over at Twinfatuation hosts this one. Head on over to see what else makes people’s Mondays (there are always some really good ones!)

The number one reason why prayer malfunctions in the hands of a believers is that they try to turn a wartime walkie-talkie into a domestic intercom.

Until you believe that life is war, you cannot know what prayer is for. Prayer is for the accomplishment of a wartime mission. It is as though the field commander (Jesus) called in the troops, gave them a crucial mission (“Go and bear fruit”), handed each of them a personal transmitter coded to the frequency of the general’s headquarters, and said, “Comrades, the general has a mission for you. He aims to see it accomplished. And to that end he has authorized me to give each of you personal access to him through these transmitters. If you stay true to his mission and seek his victory first, he will always be as close as your transmitter, to give tactical advice and to send in air cover when you or your comrades need it.”

But what have millions of Christians done? They have stopped believing that we are in a war. No urgency, no watching, no vigilance, no strategic planning. Just easy peacetime and prosperity. And what did they do with the walkie-talkie? They tried to rig it up as an intercom in their cushy houses and cabins and boats and cars – not to call in fire power for conflict with a mortal enemy, but to ask the maid to bring another pillow to the den.

So my first point is that, if we are going to mobilize a powerful prayer movement for missions or even sustain the will to pray in our own hearts, we must talk about something else first, namely, war. We have so domesticated prayer that it is no longer, in many of our lives and churches, what it was created to be – a wartime walkie-talkie for the accomplishment of mission commands.

We simply must create in ourselves and in our people a wartime mentality. Otherwise the Biblical teaching about the urgency of prayer, and the vigilance of prayer, and the watching in prayer, and the perseverance in prayer, and the danger of abandoning prayer will make no sense and find no resonance in our hearts. Until we feel the desperation of a bombing raid, or the thrill of a new strategic offensive for the gospel, we will not pray in the spirit of Jesus.

John Piper, Prayer: The Work of Missions

Thank you Chef Piper for your five star meals. Mmm…

Belt of TRUTH

• Deut. 4:39; Psalm 23:1; 18:1-3

Breastplate of RIGHTEOUSNES

• Psalm 100:3; Rom. 3:23-24, 6:23; Gal. 2:20-21; Phil. 3:8-10.

Sandals of PEACE

• Rom. 5:1; Eph. 2:14; John 14:27, 16:33, 20:21.

Shield of FAITH

• Rom. 4:18-21; Heb. 11:1; 1 Pet. 1:6-7

Helmet of SALVATION

• Each day: Ps. 16, 23; Heb. 1:3-6;
• For eternity: 2 Cor. 4:16-18; 1 Thess. 4:17; 1 John 3:1-3

Sword of the spirit GOD’S WORD

• Heb. 4:12; Matt. 4:2-11; 1 Pet. 3:15; Ps. 119:110-112

Alle som er syke fortjener god, usunn mat som ser fin ut. Derfor har jeg et lite prosjekt på gang i dag. I’m baking cupcakes! Ikke muffins, men cuppycakes med glasur som bygger. Jeg liker egentlig ikke muffins, men hvis jeg klarer å lage ordentlige cupcakes som dette, da blir jeg nok frelst skal dere se.

took evr to rembr passwrd. want get this down befr forget. i think had erotic dream yu durign surgry. prblm wiht yu be so @&$)*#@^ gorgus an fun. i only hope i wsnt tuch myself. i want talk yu. cnt focus head furts. mk no sens? yu say love me…yu did say i not drem.wher ar yu? on mail? wher ar yu need here. dnt go bck her plse i dnt lik..pls dnt. i suckyu evry nihg wutevr pls stay. get Lilly stay

This week Diane set us the theme “Fashion” over at Mixed Media Monday. I’ve taken the green path with my interpretation and made this altered journal page entitled “Tis fashionable to “Grow You Own” nowadays…”

This started out really differently – I had used very muted tones and a few collage elements, experimenting for the Supernova class. I had some very dark emotions that needed to come out, so I got the words down in pen and ink scrawl and then was amazed to see them ‘break up’ as I worked a colour wash over them… very cathartic! I then added a layer of monoprinting and brayering and a squirt of golden mica spray which I use on paper towels!

There’s a bit of  Teesha Moore around the edge of the page and a whole lot of Layer Love going on here, as I doodle and paint away, searching for my own style. I’ve used very old scrapbook stash elements – seed packet pics and ’season’ – and strips of paper onto which I doodled leaves, using sharpie poster paint pens in black and white.

DH needs a scan of his left kidney and whichever you cut it, that doesn’t sound promising, so I expect the next week or two to be a stresser, till we know what we’re dealing with. I always try not to worry till I know what I have to worry about, but sometimes, you just can’t help yourself, can you?

David beat Goliath by not fighting the fight Goliath wanted him to fight.

Dont try to out WoW, Blizzard. That’s what they want you to do.

I’m looking at YOU and you know who you are.

P.s. I hate NDAs.

Fall is finally here! Which means birthdays and holidays are in full effect… Bleach Black x Urban Outfitters necklace aka Tom Binns koff aka GIMME!

Margiela’s two finger ring. nuff said.

The Chloe Susan will likely forever stay on top of my lust list…

I’ve done my due diligence searching for the perfect basics… not Kain, AA, James Perse, or even A. Wang has done it as flawlessly as Isabel Marant. Trust.

Monogram 100% Cashmere Blanket. Birthday me!

Yup – another Dragonfly post.

We had a GORGEOUS day today…so out came the grandaddy of all dragonflies. Daddy helped catch it, but Burke’s the one who decided to let it go after a while. And all of that Makes My Monday.

Cheryl over at Twinfatuation hosts this one. Head on over to see what else makes people’s Mondays (there are always some really good ones!)

yoyoyoy bla bla jeg hedder Pølle og har det for vildt!