Aunque ya se ha publicado en otras ocasiones, por lo visto, ésta es la definitiva.

Realmente, se están finalizando los últimos toques para que el pabellón esté finalizado, según fuentes municipales, antes de que acabe el año.

Nota en el periódico:

Se trata del enésimo anuncio, sí, con las salvedades de que en esta ocasión no parte de los responsables municipales y que la reparación de las deficiencias está finalizando. Así lo constatan técnicos municipales a través de las continuas visitas a la instalación y los trabajos que en la misma se vienen llevando a cabo durante la última semana.

Fuentes municipales señalan que los técnicos están revisando la marcha de las actuaciones «un día sí y otro también», con el objetivo de que su puesta en marcha no sufra nuevos retrasos. Y es que la obra se adjudicó a la Unión Temporal de Empresas (UTE) formada por Tenaos Construcciones S.A y Gestión y Construcción de Obras Públicas S.A en agosto de 2007, con un plazo de ejecución de un año. La inversión ronda el millón y medio de euros.

Pulir y pintar

Entre las deficiencias que prácticamente están subsanadas se encuentra una de las principales, el suelo del terreno de juego, donde se ha aplicado un mortero autonivelante. Se trata producto compuesto por arena, cemento, agua y aditivos, del que destaca su fluidez y su facilidad para autonivelarse, resolviendo así los desniveles que presentaba el piso. En los próximos días se procederá a su pulimento, aplicación de goma y pintado de las marcas que delimitarán las diferentes áreas de juego que compondrán esta pista polideportiva. De este modo finalizará una espera que se viene prolongando durante los últimos meses, pues las deficiencias detectadas por los técnicos municipales desaconsejaban su recepción por parte del Ayuntamiento. De hecho el equipo de gobierno llegó a plantearse la posibilidad de emprender medidas judiciales contra la UTE, que finalmente parece que no serán necesarias.

La pista tendrá capacidad para albergar hasta tres partidos simultáneos de minibásket, así como voleibol o fútbol sala. También contará con gradas abatibles (como las existentes en el pabellón de Talayuela) para mejorar su versatilidad y un rocódromo.

Urbanización del entorno

La finalización de las reparaciones coincidirá con la conclusión de la urbanización del entorno, proyecto en el que Diputación y Ayuntamiento invierten más de 200.000 euros. La marcha de estas obras está siendo bien diferente a la construcción del pabellón, a pesar de que la empresa también ha encontrado contratiempos debido a la composición del subsuelo. Próximamente se procederá al hormigonado del suelo, restando tan solo la delimitación de las áreas de estacionamiento y la ejecución de zonas verdes. De los trabajos se encarga la empresa Pavimentos y Construcciones Mena.

Este enclave generará 60 plazas de aparcamientos. Eso sí, estará restringido a turismos, estando prohibido su uso para furgonetas de grandes dimensiones.

Fuente: Hoy.es

Para comentar sobre éste post, visita Talayuela Foro.

11-25-2309

There are a lot of things for which I’m not grateful in my life. On day’s like this its  easy to forget to depreciate all those little things that make it a veritable hell.

I’m not thankful for my government, the United Territories of Earth. I’m not thankful for the economy or the nonchalant onslaught  of a new commercial holiday in the face of our monetary crisis. I’m not thankful for the SHO and the disease control centers or the pharmaceutical forces fighting them, and how I can’t get a clear answer who to side with on the subject of vaccination.

I’m not thankful for technology, and the competitive way it’s created. I’m not thankful for private enterprises racing head to head instead of working together to solve a common problem. I’m not thankful for inventors who stop making products for the consumer’s convenience, but because it makes a lot more money flow out of their pockets.

Furthermore, I’m not feeling very thankful for my father right now. He’s done plenty for me in the past and I’m probably just expecting too much of him, but I don’t feel like he’s been too helpful lately. I’m not happy for the bills and creditors that make it hard for me to get through to him.

Of course, I can always feel thankful for a important few things though, but I don’t need to wait for a random Thursday in autumn to express it; there are things I’m thankful for every day.

I’m thankful for the roof above my head and the bed under my back. I’m thankful for the food and water I’m given to survive each day. I’m thankful for the feeling of companionship and family I’ve felt for the entire time I’ve lived with the Magnate family. I’m thankful to have them here on Mars, my quite remotely disassociated home.

Så… Äntligen Fredag. Firas självklart med att beställa mat till skolan från biteline. Å dricka en kall starköl till

When I woke up, I immediately flipped open my antiquated  workstation from where I lay in bed. It sprang to life with renewed vigor, a needlessly complex reformatting was still treating the Z-140x as well as one would expect within the first week. All that mattered was that I could access a network again, and within seconds I was connecting to the Magnate family’s portal. Though Allan and Rikka’s terminals were silent, and Ploki was still asleep, his porti was downloading a large file, so there was a little latency in the sphere.

After sliding through the various social webs I keep a profile in, checking my multiple inboxes and even the dashboard control panel for this tlog, finding no new messages in each, I hovered purposelessly in the internet for a few moments, idly rapping my fingertips on the case of the computer. I’d hoped by then I would have at least received word back from Olympus Coast College about my application or student financial aid. Not knowing what else to do, I brought up a window from an interplanetary newsource, probably based on Earth. The stark headlines it launched at me in grim menacing boldface startled me at first.

– [FLU DEATH TOLLS IN THE UNITED TERRITORIES ESTIMATED AT 3,900] –

– [NEPTUNIAN PIRATES FAIL TO CAPTURE IONIAN CARGOSHIP SECOND TIME] –

– [TIPS TO SURVIVE BLACK FRIDAY AND SHOPPING BATTLEGROUNDS THIS HOLIDAY SEASON] –

Suddenly concerned for my health, and worried that all those months of not worrying weren’t going to pay off, I thumbed over the article. I truly detest the tricks these fear mongering, ad-savvy newsources use to optimize search results to generate some more hits each day. The report is contrary to the one just a couple of days ago which calculated deaths to be closer to 130, so I just figured they wanted to claim that all of the regular annual flu deaths had been attributed to the H1N1 virus. I closed the window before I could see how many of those confirmed deaths were on Mars, lest I become a victim of the pharmaceutical industry’s scare tactics.

The next window informed me pirates had been thwarted in their attempt to gain control of a ship leaving the orbit of Galatea. Either by coincidence or the attractiveness of the damn thing, it was the same ship hijacked last spring near those same waters. These marauders from the sixth moon of Neptune have reportedly captured over 50 vessels, and seemed to have a pretty good reputation until the Euxine Carolina was rescued by UT marines earlier this year. This time, the enhanced security placed onboard the hundred-ton spacefreighter was able to resolve any issue before it even developed into one.

I didn’t care about holiday bloodbaths or a house with a bunch of dead people in it. I couldn’t be compelled to look too deep into the stories reported by the Ganymedean newsource or an associated feed I’d brought up in the background while I digested these either. I really didn’t care about Earth’s prison camp or the election being gorked up on Ceres, or any of the other news they don‘t often openly address in Earth media. I’m usually enthralled with that sort of stuff.

I brought SpaceBook, my main social network, back into focus and updated my status to something disparaging to human nature for letting the media get so commercial, and closed my clunky old porti.

As if stirred by a ripple in a pond, Ploki Magnate rolled over in his bed. As he rested, he’d probably been able to sense so many similar, relatively tiny waves just and slept right through it. But a rock being thrown into the pond from so close may have felt like a surge against the barriers of his constant digital stream. He sat up, rubbing the side of is head.

“Oh, good morning, Ploki,” I said, realizing I hadn’t actually spoken a word to anyone when my voice cracked. The name already sounded a little strange to the tongue since it was a throwback to old hacker slang from days when a keyboard similar mine would still have been used. It was the handle that he chose to go by in all of his social avenues, virtual or not.

“Morning,” he said, not looking up from the glow of the button already alight in his hands. It illuminated his sharp face and the accentuated Ganymedean features. If he had antennae or pointy ears I would have seen them in the wash of blue light, but his head was framed only by a short haircut and a little scruff of beard.  “What’s this about the news?” he asked me, responding to the notification that woke him.

“Huh? Oh, well ther-” I began before he cut me off, he’d obviously brought up the headlines.

“Pirates…prison camp…experiment demonstrates possibility of life in Centauri?” he read aloud, a questioning tone as he wondered if he’d already heard that somewhere.

I was rising off my futon bed and walking as I replied. “I think that whole thing’s a ruse to get more scientific funding for exploration,” I grumbled as I stepped into the kitchen to scrounge up something.

“So it’s better we don’t find life outside the Solar system? You’re so cynical, Klay.” He was beginning to wake and warm up, getting out of bed only to settle into his computer chair.

I spoke to him over the kitchen counter, his workstation setup just on the other side. Anyone who used this kitchen couldn’t help but feel watched if he was seated there, though his eyes hardly rose from his screen. “No, I just think it’s going to be a huge bust if it turns out we went all the way there again and didn’t find anything … again,” there was little I came across in the fridge that screamed edible to me.

“Well it won’t be any bigger of a waste than if that money went to the defense budget,” his sleek porti connected to the portal the second he touched it, and in moments he was tangled in his various webs. “They got something like 700 bil for the military, just for a single year. That calculates to almost 2 billion a day.”

“Gork,” I exclaimed, slamming an unyielding cupboard. “Nothing’s looking appealing to me in here, wanna start the vaporizer?”

He glanced at the time and yelled “Fire it up!”

«←→»

Hunger was of the few things that could involuntarily force someone out into the big, scary world; and even then there are the options of fast food, take-out and delivery services to minimize a given human’s exposure to the outside as much as possible.

Ploki and I trod along the broad walkways of Newport’s Style Isle. Fashioned by The Caspian Company after a cookie-cutter Ionian Mission, it was a way to disguise their corporate headquarters as an outdoor shopping mall and gain a little extra revenue. It’s not actually an island, just a small mesa overlooking the Amazonian Ocean, and was used by natives in the past for their jamborees. Glancing back over my shoulder, I could see it twinkling like a thousand diamonds in the midday light, beyond the rows of fancy crawlers, oily parking spaces and pristine, artificial palm trees.

I used to work here. Tucked away in the digital media section of Style Isle’s outdated bookstore, I toiled the first year I lived on Mars. The commute to Newport from Fender was treacherous at the least, a whole 30 minutes. It was enough to make the job feel not worth it to me, spending the entirety of my only raise on the fuel it took just to get to work late every day.

We wove amongst the flow of shoppers, consisting mostly of wealthy women who didn’t need to be making any more money. It always felt a little strange, walking amongst the same people I used to serve, calmly passing them decked out in their most splendid weekday attire. From the hottest trends off the runways in Mihr Patera to soft velour sweat suits encrusted in rhinestones. Large embellished sunglasses, gaudy jewelry and any number of insanely eye-catching accessories glinted and dangled in the red sun.

Anything they could afford to distract or cover up the seams between cosmetic surgery and plastic treatments. Neck-tucks and antenna-removal scars can still be tricky to hide, and that’s where expensive bronze and ivory make-up assisted. They perfectly mimicked the exemplary mannequins, stiff in the windows beside them but so posh. I cringed to think what these reptiles would look like without any mods.

Just a few minutes there and I’d already seen  too many aged women showing off their new breasts and arms, many of which still needed some tightening and laser treatments to erase the damage of decades of sun exposure. Gray roots hid under platinum blonde, deep crows feet under cakes of eye shadow, and I’m sure I would have noticed the stench of death if it weren’t for the aroma of nail polish and hair products. I just wanted to find the cheapest place to grab a bite, then get the hell out of this commercial trap.

“I’m so excited for my appointment next week!” Ploki said, grinning ear to ear. “I’m going to get my license, and then my new toy will be completely legitimate,” there was so much glee behind his eyes as he said this.

“I just hopes it work’s out for you, it would suck if you were denied cause you didn’t qualify,” I pointed out, though that would be just as upsetting to all of us.

“Seriously,” he replied and winced with his blue eyes, tryinag not to imagine that possibility.

I turned to my Martian friend as we rounded a corner near the geyser fountain. “Hey, Ploki, can you look something up for me real quick?”

“Yeah, sure,” he said, slid his button out of his pocket and unlocked the palm-held device. The flat, blue screen lit up in broad daylight, appearing a few inches above his hand.  It rested on a faint laser cone, projected from the solitary LED eye; simplicity was the only identifying feature of an AM-3Gi button. He called up a search application, and looked at me, asking “What do you need?”

“Gork, that was fast. Don’t you still have to connect to a network with that thing?”

“No, I canceled that basic service that came with it.” He pointed to his temple with his free hand, saying “I’ve been auged.”

“Ahh, now it makes sense, you are your own sphere,” I looked at him again as if I’d be able to see it’s sheen around him now. “That’s astro, I’d love to get a chip one day,” I said quietly.

The cyborg’s eyes locked on me in disbelief. “What? You haven’t been auged?” the question rang loud here, even outside. Any sort of alterations, whether internal or external, are regarded highly by those of status, and I’m sure any of the women who could afford a boost in confidence could pay an extra few thousand to have a little silicon implanted in their heads, too.

I looked around at no scowling faces or judging eyes, surprisingly. “No, what makes you think I have?”

“I totally thought you were. You don’t have extra memory in there?” he asked, genuinely amazed I hadn’t undergone any sort of capacity upgrade.

“No, not at all,” I said with as little pride as I could show these technophilic Newpsies.

“Huh, I could have sworn. Hmm…well I guess you just have a good memory then,” he said, adjusting to the idea of my head being emptier than his.

“Thanks, I’ll take that as a compliment…especially coming from a machine,” I said facetiously.

He protested “Hey, I’m still mostly human!”

“Whatevs, Robot. Find me the cheapest food around,” I commanded.

He grumbled, and returned his gaze to the screen, manipulating the flattened beam that the browser was illustrated upon with the swish of his fingertips. He looked up, over to the other side of the food court we had just meandered into. “There. The pizza place has the lowest cost here,” he said at once.

“Wow, you found it that quick?” I said, astounded by his technology again.

“No, I just remembered,” he said with a grin, adding “Gorker.”

After we finished our two-dollar slices of pizza pie, and made our way back through the mess of grotesque human facsimiles, we found ourselves at his little, cerulean crawler. The two-door hatchback always reminded me of my elusive vehicle, though his wasn’t built on Ganymede.

His Saturnian-made Polaris was probably of a finer construction than my rodent. The interior had been optimized for comfort and visibility, so much so that even the HUD cowling had been displaced to the center of the dashboard, creating more storage areas.

At the press of the ignition switch, the engine whined and instruments illuminated with bright blue light, similar to the glow of the Ploki’s button, which now rested in a crèche on the center console. It supplied music from it’s harddrive to the entertainment system, and the driver or passenger could easily control media with the interface on either end.

We hurried home, where Allan waited for our return. He’d sequestered himself into his room, determined to make full use of his burgeoning class-load by doing everything he could to pass them all. Little had been seen of him, except when he needed transit to and from campus, or when there was a bi-weekly jam, or if Nymh had come over to lure him out, though she just as often did nothing to make him want to leave the room.

Similar could be said of the youngest of the Magnate siblings. Rikka was often out of the house since she was usually working one of her two jobs, and only appeared in sharp, semi-formal outfits when she was home from either, or on her way to an interview for a third. Attention seeking and a hypochondriac, she was currently fighting a bout with the deadly flu upstairs in her quarters, and no one could tell if she were actually sick or not.

I’d become good friends with Ploki over the previous weeks, finding similar interests was easy for us; or something like that. It could have been something to do with being the same age as me, or that he was easier to tolerate for an entire day than his often boisterous older brother. Perhaps it was because we had planned to move to that ski resort in Cyane this winter and had begun pre-roommate rituals of bonding. But it’s probably just because we both share the ground level of the house, he and I sleeping in the living room and family room, respectively.

We arrived back at his house in the mid-afternoon and immediately return to our positions in front of our workstations. Using some sort of control on his terminal, he remotely activated his brand new vaporizer, allowing it to warm up the 600 seconds so it will work properly. He then sent a message through the sphere to let Allan know he’d have about ten minutes to find a stopping point.

By force of habit, I brought up the newsources again with my renewed net connection, feeling warm with this novelty: the privilege of fresh information afforded only to those who have the technological means. By the look of the new banners, it seems healthcare reforms were stagnated by both sides of UT government, Earth’s new president visited Titan, and strife continued between warring factions on little Davidia.

A terrorist plot on another Earth skyscraper was foiled, a fusion plant in New Ganymede almost meltdown again and AM would probably release a new model of the button over the holidays. Students protested an increase in tuition rates at University of Mars campuses, a ferry crash in The Rings left 26 dead and the sequel to that stupid teenage-heartthrob-vampire movie broke box office records this weekend.

I closed all the windows at once and brought up one of my bookmarked links: a streaming, real-time image of the star Sol. I zoomed in partway, only until I spotted the well recognizable shapes of the gas giants, the thin haze of asteroid belts and the glint off the terrestrial worlds orbiting close the yellow main-sequence star. If it weren’t for a ticker running the time at the bottom you would have sworn it was just a still image, captured by a traveler from some rocket’s window.

I attempted to imagine for a moment that I was peering out of that porthole at the static but majestic view. I tried to picture myself away from any apprehensions of holidays, pirates, finances or vaccinations. It wasn’t working.

I collapsed the screen of the outdated porti. “Hey Ploki,” I called as I stood up, “I’m getting Allan whether that machine of yours is ready or not.”

]]> http://virrevellevind.wordpress.com/2009/11/25/45/ Wed, 25 Nov 2009 19:27:51 +0000 virrevellevind http://virrevellevind.wordpress.com/2009/11/25/45/

En dimmig måndagsmorgon, då alla bara ville fortsätta sova. Då alla såg ut genom fönstret och ville hem. Då kom jag på det. *Dudududuuu*

(Lalilali, förresten)

Egentligen tycker nog de flesta som jag. Ja, det finns definitivt fler som blir glada av att andra är glada. Häromdagen stannade jag för en cyklist, som höll på att trilla på personen som gick framför mig, på gatan. Hon log så fint att jag började nynna med i låten som jag lyssnade på.

Samma sak händer om jag ser någon som är handikappad på något sätt skrattar och ler, för det är så himla fint. Och självlkart blev jag väldigt glad när ett litet barn håller en tung dörr åt mig, och sedan springer ifatt sina föräldrar och säger: Mamma, jag höll upp dörren!

Jag och en kompis såg “New moon” i tisdags. Den var inte så spännande, den kunde bli lite långtråkigt. Allt hände ju i slutet. Sista scenen är bäst. Haha. Den var bra, känns lite kort fast den är mer än två timmar. Vi hade jättekul i alla fall, tills några äldre tjejer började fnissa åt mig. Bara för att jag hade “råkat” (Jag hade tagit en till kompisen) ta lite fler sugrör än vad som egentligen behövdes. Det var inte så kul. Det var heller inte så kul att gå ensam hem i mörkret. (Fy sjutton vad mörkt det har blivit!) Men när jag kom hem kändes det som om huset var laddat med kramar och leenden. Tack.

På natten låg jag och lyssnade på Michael Jackssons (lugna) låtar. Han gör mig glad med. Bäst är nog “Whatever happens”, för den är så skön bara. Haha.

Nu ska jag se på film. Hejdå!

Pressbyrån i Gävle fick stå för dagens lunch. En kryddig korv med ketchup.

Ikväll väntar nog maten Pelle tipsade om.

1. Zartbitter- oder Vollmilchschokolade?

- Schokolade ist immer gut!! Ich bevorzuge Zartbitterschokolade und meine Lieblingsschokolade ist Ingwer – Orange.

2. Was war dein schönstes Kindheitserlebnis?

- (denkt lange nach) Mein schönstes Kindheitserlebnis? … Tja, mein Traurigstes könnte ich dir sofort sagen, aber mein Schönstes war auf der Kirmes mit etwa fünf Jahren. Da habe ich eine schwarze Puppe zum Aufblasen geschenkt bekommen. Die war vielleicht kuschelig! Das war meine „Negerpuppe“ (damaliger Wortlaut). Ich weiß gar nicht mehr, ob die überhaupt was an hatte?

Mein schönstes ausgedachtes Kindheitserlebnis wäre: Ich war ein Kind. Ich saß gelangweilt vor unserem Haus auf der Mauer und habe Autos gezählt. Dann fuhren auf einmal viele Traktoren an mir vorbei, beladen mit Holz und zum Schluss bauten Männer daraus ein Kettenkarussell. Da lief ich schnell zu meiner Oma ins Haus und erzählte ihr davon. Am Abend nahmen mich meine Eltern bei der Hand und sind mit mir Karussell gefahren.

Hand und gingen mit mir zum Jahrmarkt. Mein Vater kaufte drei Tickets und zusammen flogen wir, in drei verschiedenen Körbchen sitzend, über die Bäume.

3. Was ist dein Wunsch fürs Leben?

- Da sagen immer alle Weltfrieden und so. Ist ja auch gut, aber auch total langweilig, weil es alle sagen! Ich möchte gesund bleiben! Und Ideen möchte ich haben … immer neue Ideen. Und Neugierde. Ja, ich möchte neugierig sein auf die Menschen und die Welt.

4. Woher kommen deine Ideen für deine Werke?

- Das ist unterschiedlich. Manchmal komme ich durch Freunde auf eine Idee. Manchmal auch durch die Zeitung. Wenn ich schreibe, fließen zudem viele Dinge, die ich erlebt habe in meine Texte mit ein. Außerdem denke ich mir natürlich viele Kleinigkeiten dazu.

Schriftsteller die sagen, das habe nichts mit ihrem Leben zu tun – das kann ich nicht glauben! Man wird immer in irgendeiner Weise beeinflusst und immer fließt Persönliches in die Arbeit ein..

5. Wer war deine große Liebe?

- Meine große Liebe war eine Liebe auf den ersten Blick! Ich dachte, das gibt es nur einmal, aber nein, bei mir passierte es gleich zweimal.

Beim ersten Mal war ich zwischen etwa 24 Jahre alt. Ich hatte mich mit der Zeit von meinem Friseurtermin vertan und wollte deshalb eine Freundin anrufen, um zu fragen, ob sie noch mit mir Kaffee trinken gehen würde. Deshalb ging ich zu den Telefonzellen am Zülpicher Platz, da es damals noch kein Handy gab. In der Nachbarkabine war ein Typ, und als ich den sah, dachte ich nur: „Boah, geil …“ Kurz darauf öffnete er die Tür meiner Kabine und sprach mich an: „Ich suche noch jemanden zum Kaffeetrinken … Hast du Lust? Ich habe zu Hause schon Kaffee aufgesetzt.“ Natürlich ging ich mit, was für eine Frage. Wir redeten etwa drei, vier Stunden bis sich herausstellte, dass er 19 war!!

Ich dachte erst, das geht doch nicht, aber es hielt ganze zwei Jahre und wir zogen sogar zusammen. Ich war sehr verliebt.

Und dann ist mir was Ähnliches tatsächlich viele Jahre später noch mal passiert. Toll!

Was habe ich bloß für ein Glück!

Lilith Diehl

فديو, فيديو كليب انا بيه ورومانسى من فلم, فيلم البيه الرومانسىافلام لك تحميل من

شاهد فديو, فيديو كليب انا بيه ورومانسى من فلم, فيلم البيه رومانسى – سعد الصغير 2009
تحمل وتنزيل فديو, فيديو كليب سعد الصغير من فلم, فيلم البيه رومانسى انا بيه ورومانسى

لمشاهدة وتحميل الفديو, فيديو كليب …

شاهد فديو, فيديو كليب اغنية سعد الصغير انا بيه ورومانسى من فلم, فيلم البيه رومانسى
يو, فيديو كليب سعد الصغير من فلم, فيلم البية الرومانسى – انا بيه ورومانسى

اضغط هنا لمشاهدة الكليب

|اغانى|فديو, فيديو كليب|مقطع|هدف|مسلسل|اعلان|فلم, فيلم|برنامج|حلقة|شاهد|مشاهدة|اون لاين|سرعة عالية |بدون
تحميل|اغانى|عربى|اجنبى|MP3, mp3, ام بي ثري|البوم|
2009|سينجل|نغمات|تنزيل|نزل|شعبي|راب|حمل|موسيقى|MP3, mp3, ام بي ثري

|افراح|فديو, فيديو كليب|راديو||اون لاين|بدون تحميل|مجانا|بدون اشتراك|2010

sd

Kul på IKEA

Sängavdelningen på IKEA på en lördag. Mycket folk. Andra människor hade lätt blivit trötta och småirriterade. Men inte Uno. Uno gillar myllret runt honom, mamma som flörtar med honom och lamporna i taket. Social kille.

Lalilali.

Igår. Så fort jag tänker på igår ryser jag lite. Men bara lite, så farligt var det inte att ta sprutan mot Svininfluensan. Men det gjorde ont när sköterskan stack in nålen ( om du är lika känslig som jag kan du hoppa över detta stycke) i min arm och ett sus av obehag kändes en stund. *Ryser

Därför hade jag svårt att öppna dörren hem, skriva snyggt i skolan och framför allt spela teater. Idag hade jag en liten teateruppvisning på Calle Flygare. Om ni undrar hur det går till så är det ganska ganska kul om man har roliga kompisar. Så ett tips är att börja med en kompis. Sen, nu på vår uppvisning så var det mera som en öppen lektion än en uppvisning. Nästa termin ska vi ha en riktig uppvisning. Alltså spela en riktig pjäs.

Godnatt!

ja då har en hel helg passerat.
Fredagen bestod av sent jobb och efter en pizza och lite mys med sötnosen så kikade jag förbi Olanders
Där myste jag med Yennow vi spelade Wii, och jag säger bara att jag är farlig när jag spelar ha ha!
Slog på min ölburk och slog på Yennow !

Ha ha bjuder på denna, hos Yennow för 1-2v. sen.

Lördags kvällen blev en liten mini utgång med Anna & Ken och MÅNGA av deras vänner.
Alla vi va små sega så det blev ingen partykväll utan mer en soft nice kväll

Vår bebis gillar att vara “ute bland folk”, som man säger. Då är han gärna vaken, tittar sig omkring och lyssnar storögt på alla nya ljud. Förra veckan hann vi med både en lunch på mammas jobb och en söndagsbrunch. Uno stortrivdes.

När Uno är hemma och ska sova kan han skrika i en dryg kvart innan han kommer till ro. Men “ute bland folk” tar han högst två skrik-andetag innan han somnar, full av nya intryck. Han försöker hålla sig vaken i det längsta. Men till slut går det helt enkelt inte längre.

Social bebis. Nu måste hans mor börja anstränga sig för att han ska få uppleva saker på dagarna.

06:30 ringte klokka, og et kvarter seinere var vi ute av døra med voffs. Jeg og Finest er så heldige å få være hundepassere i helga, og det inkluderer selvfølgelig turgåing. Når det er så tidlig på en lørdag er verden generelt ganske sovende, og det å vandre rundt ute i kald luft og stille omgivelser er egentlig ganske fint.

Noe annet som er ganske fint er god frokost med aviser til. Med en du er glad i.

Lille bebisen er nesten for stor for senga si.

Ha en strålende lørdag!

]]> http://hlundstrom.wordpress.com/2009/11/13/fredagslyx/ Fri, 13 Nov 2009 17:15:09 +0000 Henrik Lundström http://hlundstrom.wordpress.com/2009/11/13/fredagslyx/

Det är fredag och det är mörkt och kallt ute. Skönt då att sitta inne i jag2s lägenhet med en kall öl och käka en oxfilépizza från hagakrogen.

Captains log: Thursday 12th November 2009…. Whirlwind arrives in Melbourne….

The ‘whirlwind’ I’m talking about happens to be my daughter Jessica; my 22 year old ‘Tom-boy’ daughter flew in from the West (Western Australia) last night. I had to pick her up from Melbourne Tullamarine airport around midnight. I waited for her to get off the plane for nearly an hour…. after 15, 20, 25 minutes went by, no Jess. No idea what happened to her, after 45 minutes finally a call from her. Apparently, as the plane came to a halt, the Feds came on board and told everybody to remain seated…. they found two elderly men on the plane and escourted them off.. ?? don’t as me… no idea, but I’m guessing drugs… drugs in WA are just crazy…. I guess that’s why I hate it there so much….

I finally found her after an hour, loaded her suitcases into my 4×4, and went around to the Virgin terminal, to pick up her cat, ‘Ozzie’….

Jess is a thousand miles an hour, I can’t keep up with her. She is loud and boorish, sorry to say that about my own daughter, but I just cannot see any resemblance to me what-so-ever; none of my genes feature in her at all…. only her mothers; I’m guessing that’s why we got divorced in the first place….

Anyway, she has had a hard time in Western Australia over the past 6 months, broke up with her boyfriend of 3 years, had to give up her house and in the process, wrote off her beloved Ford ‘Ute’ AND, lost her job…. but she is lucky to be alive actually, she escaped a roll over with only a sore neck… Fortunately the ‘roll-bar’ she had on the back was strong enough to keep the cab from being completely crushed. See pic below…..

Jessica's roll over... lucky to walk away...

This is how it happened in my view: inexperienced driver + powerful engine + no load in the back of ute + gravel road + poor visibility at night = a disaster waiting for a place to happen…. She doesn’t believe me, oh well….. but the proof is above !! kids… I still love her !!…. I just have to get used to having her around after quite a few years now….

Later… Ozzie…

I helga var jeg og fine Christine og fine Siri på hyttetur. Etter den obligatoriske fredagsgrøten satte vi oss i søteSaaben fra 1983 og vendte nesa mot hytteland. Med meg som sjåfør (som har kjørt bil med automatgir siden jeg var 18), kan du trygt si at vi ble pekt på og ledd av mer enn én gang. Hurra for selvironi sier jeg, for jeg hadde til slutt vondt i magen etter å ha ledd meg fram til City Syd og første handlestopp.

Det viktigste først!

Resten av helga ble brukt til å fortære samtlige ting på bildet over, samt et par ekstremt gode middager og en god dæsj vin. Vi fikk på søndag bruk for alle episodene av MacGyver, for jeg hadde selvfølgelig klart å kjøre fast bilen. Flaks for oss at vi (jeg) ikke hadde noen andre venner enn TV-en på 90-tallet, for ellers hadde vi vel sittet der ennå.

For å oppsummere det hele: jeg har lekt meg i Picasa.

Bilder sier fremdeles mye mer enn ord.

Hvordan har din helg vært?

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