Miss Kolka

The cirkus show Les Arts Sauts 

 

Wondering what to write... these thoughts are flying through my mind...

I could try to explain the time when Michael decided to have grief councelling at the office because he found out that his former boss had died. He completely freaked out when he found out that a bird had crashed into the window and wanted to have a formal funeral. HILAROUS  but of course that only happened in the tv series "the office", not in my beautiful workplace. (the one where all the women are marilyns)

Or detail a beautiful cirkus show I saw last week... Les arts Sauts .. an acrobatic performance simply majestic with breathtaking jumps, sensuality, cries and laughter but it is just one of those moments where you had to be there.

Cannot help but admire the baby- booming people I met recently - their enthusiasm and how their choices in life seem so effortless and right. How age is totally irrelevent when you know where you are heading - Not that I am in an enormous decision-making episode of my life right now. My life seems pretty set, with a good job (some days being better than others, especially those where I realise I am totally capable of doing it) and a homy appartment. I even have the luxury of meeting new interesting people and having good friends dropping by regularly. Without forgetting the pretty faces around me every day. What would I do without them... the fashion-conscious and -unconscious ones are the most fun - and sometimes I wonder whether I might perhaps be a bit too obsessed with dress-codes. But coming from Iceland I think that is just to be expected. Halló... if it makes me happy I don't see where the problem is - right Justin?

And its not like I am ill advised either, like my personal counsultant always says: Its good that you work hard but don't forget your feelings. Thank you "mamie".   

May I introduce you to the "ferlíki"!



I've Finally got internet at home! Its like seeing again. I
definately agree with the articles I've read recently about more and
more people being hooked on the net and using it like a drug. Wish I
wasn't one of them...

I haven't been able to move since I found out how to connect like a big girl so this is just a quick entry to say
that finally, finally I put some pictures of my flat on Flickr
(note: its before moving in so now its like a proper "boudoir" of
course).

Have to go downstairs to the neighbourhood's pub (mind you the
word "pub" doesn't really apply here since it more like a rustic french
restaurant) that serves one of the most delicious "fondant au chocolat"
I have ever tasted in Paris. And believe me, they have been many...mmmmm

Dont have all the time in the world - tomorrow is my first "real" day at
France 24, except that we don't really see the images, we don't really
use the control room and that I don't really have an assistant, but
hey, I'll make the most out of it. What have we been doing until now?
That is a good question...

I may not have all the time in the world but at least I've got
the 17th of november off work... and whats going to happen the 17th of
november ??? Oh...if you only knew

 

Isn't that an obvious match?
Albert Einstein versus Marilyn Monroe.

It depends what's up for grabs of course and how you define the winner. If we were competing in sexyness, a clear winner would probably be miss Monroe, although it might be debatable - depends if you're into beards or not. Einstein could explain a complicated world matter, on radiation or probabilities and maybe calculate the root of 5684. I'm not sure he would be very liklely to be chosen "mister popular" in high school or that his voice could become one of the most known in history. 
If the prize is champagne, glitz and a night in Val Kilmer's bed (since John F. Kennedy might not be available) then my guess would be that Monroe would do everything in her power to solve even the most complicated maths' problem. For a Nobel Prize in Glamour, Einstein might get stylish and forget all the world's problems, just for an hour... and perhaps get a bit tipsy, since its for a good cause.

But the problem here is that A. Einstein is merely known by his surname (as many important men in world's history are) and we just love to call Marilyn just by her (fake) christian name, something that has even become a habit in the coming up of the french elections by the way (N. Sarkozy vs Segolene R.)

Why is is simpler to call women by their first names? Are they simpler human beings? Or does it just feel more homely?

You might be asking yourself why am I bothered by the comparison between Marilyn and Albert. Well... In every workspace you have men and women toilets seperated right. Well... how do you think the toilets are labelled for men and women in FRANCE 24?

Lucky guess.

yes I have one; french internet companies take AGES to connect you to the free world! Oh men ... not only that but last week I wrote two blogentries, very detailed including all my dirty little secrets and somehow - pfuff - like by accident these entries didn't show and disappeared into the mystery of the net.

Oh well...guess you didn't want to know my secrets after all.

Work is ..... ohhh lets not talk about that

I am so pleased in my sweet little appartment although I have already had one unpleasent encounter with one of the next door neighbours. Not the cute old lady that finishes all her sentences by "you are such a charming young girl" or the military guy that is not a day older than 18 and comes back to his starving cat every evening. No- this is the man living under me (Ross to Rachel: "over me, over me??!! When were you under me?") anyway; no not that kind of under me.. he lives on the sixth floor and apparently my little feet disturb him terribly. He hasn't slept in a week because I walk barefoot into the kitchen and have a glass a water after midnight!!! Poor guy... He's going to be real happy when I start my nightshifts...

 

This could have been such a typical monday. After having smashed my
head to the wall all day - trying to tell tv journalists that yes we
are doing a newsbulletin, but no we dont have any computers and well
its not really being recorded, I could have gone home to cry crocodile
tears into my bathtub. Except that its not really my tub and that I
live in a suitcase at my dad's for the time being. So I decided that
perhaps it was time to go on to live my own life and dropped by the
flat in the "15eme" instead.

Was glad to see that the elevator
was working this time - beacause running up 7th floors in an old
parisian building is not really for ladies - not those wearing
stilletos at least (which I do of course every single day). When I
walked into the appartement I noticed the clean white walls at once and
hoped the blue colour in the bedroom wouldn't be too..well blue. It
turned out to be a very calming sea blue that could rock any baby to
sleep (since that is something I will be doing quite alot). The
furniture was being assembled by the owner and her man and the wooden
ikea style wasn't as bad as I had imagined.. it wouldn't have been my
first choice if I had had all the money in the world, but still not
bad.



It wasn't until I had admired my own image a bit too long in the real size
mirror in the hall, and after that in the huge glass one in the
bathroom thinking "hmmm should I get a mirror on my bedroom ceiling
perhaps so the first thing I see will definately be me" that I noticed
the "thing". That awful thing was just lying there- pretending it was
happy to see me. In its freakish kindof way. The most awful couch I
have ever seen. Very orange and very brown. and very badtaste. But Ok,
in a flat where a thousand things can go wrong, one ugly couch is not
much to deal with - I'll just change the covers and pretend I never had
this vision. Can't guarantee it won't spark some nightmares once and a
while... but at least I will have my own flat!! Signed the papers,
payed 3 months rent and got the keys. For the first time I will be
living on my own, where I can pee with the door open at all times and
put my name in sparkly pink letters on the letterbox. I could even
plaster all the walls with cute baby animals if I wanted to - but don't
worry...I wont. Not all of them. A little boudoir for the little miss Kolka in the 15eme
arrondissement - just waiting to be taken over.

That's what I call a bloody good monday...

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• ... | 18-06-2009
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• Reminder | 15-06-2009
• What can Europe do? | 08-06-2009