Open sea...

Most life-confirming dream I've had in ages. Really feel I'm on the right track:

I'm walking by the ocean, and begin to feel tired. I spot a tiny little rowboat/dinghy/whatever it's called, (it's really small), in the shallow water by the shore, and decide to lay down in it to take a nap. The soft rocky movement of the boat is very soothing, and at the same time I feel kinda excited that I'm on the water, and small fish are moving about underneath. (I've always had an intense fascination combined with deep fear of the ocean, and all its creatures.) Soon I'm fast asleep.
A while later I am woken by the boats gentle lull having turned into severe topsy-turvy movements, throwing me back and forth. I sit up, and find I've drifted out to open sea, about 5 miles from the shore. Waves are crashing, and there are DOLPHINS playing all around me. I'm terrified. I can't swim, (this is true), and there are no oars in the boat. Luckily there are some people about, some strong swimmers, and some in their own small boats. I try calling out to them, but find the sleep has weakened my voice, and only an unintelligible hoarse whisper comes out. I keep trying: ''Please help me'', ''I have no oars'', and ''Help me, I can't swim'', but no-one pays attention. The size of the waves are increasing, the boat keeps moving further away from the shore, and is quickly filling up with water. There is nothing I can do, and I imagine what dying will be like. I'm so scared, and feel so alone.
Then suddenly, the boat begins to move in the opposite direction. It moves fast and straight, as if it had a motor on it. It takes me but a moment to figure out what is happening, and I remember thinking no WAY, I thought this only happened in the movies. But no, it's happening right here in the real world: A dolphin has sensed my distress, and is pushing the boat back to the shore! Within no time we're back in shallow waters. On my way there I so wish I'll get a chance to see the dolphin and tell it thank you. When we've come all the way back in I get my wish, as the dolphin stands up on its tail, AND GIVES ME A HUG! (Well, obvi a dolphin has no arms to hold a person, but what happened was clear: It stood on its tail, leaned close to me, and waited for me to put my arms around it.) It puts its head on my shoulder, and makes those clickety dolphin sounds in my ear. I'm convinced it tells me 'Don't worry, you're always gonna be just fine'. Then it jumps back in the water, and heads back towards the open sea.
I stand on the solid ground, happy to be alive, and ever so thankful.

Detox craziness

So. I've been thinking about this whole detox thing. I know it's nothing new, but I really think it's getting pretty crazy. It's become like a religion! Point in case, the way breaking the strict dietary rules in whatever (non)-flavour- of-the-month  regime might be followed, is more often than not described as 'sinning'. It's even become a part of everyday language. My detoxing friend told me the other day, with no hint of irony, 'Yesterday I sinned really badly, I had an icecream'. So that's religion, right? People who are not able to stick to these diets are sinners, implicitly elevating those who are to saint status.
Oh let me worship you, you women of iron-will and self discipline! Let me admire and emulate your ways, oh perfect ones! So clean, so unsullied by the devils temptations of wheat and sugar.


I just don't get it. A zillion books are cropping up with various suggestions of detoxes and dietary changes which are hailed as the answer to all your troubles, turning your whole life around for the better. You'll loose weight, look younger, be super-healthy, increase your energy, mental alertness, fitness, and all-over happiness. Fair enough, there's something to be said for that. But then why is it that rarely anybody seem to be able to stick to it for more than 5 minutes?
A friend of mine came to my house for dinner a while back. I cooked something special, as she was on a strict detox. Yes, she looked good, but then she always does anyway. And extra-skinny, but it's not like she needed to lose any weight to begin with. She looked at me with a holy light shining from her eyes: 'Kat! I don't mean to be preachy, but you must do this! It is the most amazing thing!'   And she continued to name all the areas of her lives that had been improved through detoxing, like it was the best thing that had ever happened to her. Ok, I admit it was intriguing, more so when it was a close friend of mine who actually experienced this, as opposed to some case in a book being peddled for 300kr. I was thinking, maybe there's something to it.
About 4 weeks later I see my friend again. She had gained 5 pounds, and was back to her usual (gorgeous) self. 'Kat! It was impossible to stay on the diet! Now all I do is eat and eat, lots of cake and chocolate and icecream as well. I just can't seem to stop! I feel so bad!'
So what's going on there? The answer to all her prayers of a happy life, everything she could ever wish for regarding good health and good looks was hers for the taking, all she needed was to stay on this diet. And she couldn't! Surely that gets you thinking that living like that can't be right huh? She even fell back into a way of living way more unhealthily than she had before, which I can't help thinking is due to some kind of self-regulating mechanism, or to do with having denied yourself of something basic for so long, you just go crazy once you get back into it. Like trying to suppress sexual needs! It's like a pressure cooker, suddenly you just blow the lid.
I've heard so many stories like this, people finding the light, and then not being able to maintain that lifestyle. They end up back where they started, having gained nothing but feelings of guilt and failure. (And maybe a few extra pounds, since they f¨ked up their metabolisms for a while.)
Ok, well, to be honest, I've been there. I followed a no sugar-milk-wheat-etc detox thingy for a couple of weeks. And it was great, while it lasted. (Except I got sick and tired of hearing myself telling everybody 'Oooh, it's so easy to stick to once you break the sugar addiction. I can really recommend it.') It didn't last long, as I soon enough fell into my old habits, which may not be 100% perfect 100% of the time, but at least it allows me to have a normal life.
But, yes, I lost some weight and finally conformed to our society's ideal of the skinny woman, which is a big concern of mine, (see this post), and so was totally my main reason for doing this, though officially it was of course to get 'healthy'. 
My second reason was because of all this talk of how it's possible to wake up refreshed and energetic in the morning. I'm ALWAYS tired when I wake up, no matter how little or long I sleep. If I'm not allowed to sleep until I wake of my own accord, with no alarmclock, I'm wrecked til noon, and that's just how it is. But cutting out all this stuff made no difference, it only made it hell to get through the mornings as I was not allowed any coffee. I strongly suspect the reason for people claiming that being on a detox gives them energy in the mornings, is because they have to go to bed ridiculously early, due to not having anything to do in the evenings! No social life based around any kind of eating or drinking, no snuggling up on the sofa watching movies with chips and soda, and no proper conversation with anybody because all you can talk about are how much hidden sugar there is in ketchup, and all you can think of is how much you really want to eat some cake.

Girl girl girl

I feel like such a fraud! And so dishonest.
I have come to experience a situation where I hide my true intentions behind something completely different, something I'm really not used to, as I'm all for playing the honesty card fast and loud. This usually results in a mixture of initial embarrassment, saving a lot of trouble and complications, and getting what I want. But this time it's different. Possibly due to the fact that the person at the receiving end of my dishonesty is someone I only know very superficially, and the situation one I'm pretty convinced will NOT end with me getting what I want. So might as well save the embarrassment as well.
Here's what it's all about: I met a girl at work two weeks ago. (It's a summer job for both of us before we're back to our respective studies, so it's not as if the whole workplace thing is an issue in itself.) From the second I saw her, I found her VERY attractive. Thing is, I'm not really interested in getting any more friends, I can barely keep up with maintaining relationships with the ones I already have, what with my extreme need to be on my own very often, time spent on my music, as well as studying and generally keeping the old day-to-day life together. I will make exceptions of course, if I meet someone who I'm deeply interested in as a person, and with whom I feel a connection will enrich both of our lives. This doesn't happen often though, as I'm generally pretty bored with everyone I meet. (Disclaimer!!: This is NOT to be understood as if I think my own life and person is so effing interesting and special! It really isn't at all. And it's not as if these people have anything wrong with them. I'm just very picky, and can't be bothered to engage just like that.)
Anyway! This girl at work doesn't have more to recommend herself to me in conversation, opinions, humour, whatever, than any other random person I meet, who I will relate to only as far as the situation, (in this case work), demands in order for everybody to get through in a pleasant manner. But she really turns me on! It's so superficial, something about her body and her eyes... So I pretend I'm interested in her, and pretend I'm up for taking the first steps to build up some kind of friendship-py relationship. We share an interest in music, and have even talked about meeting up and maybe working together in that respect. What am I thinking! I'm not interested in that at all!
Ok, so if I believed there was any chance that she'd be up for having a sexual relationship with me, it would make sense to at least go through the motions with going out for after-work drinks, and that kind of stuff the act of getting into bed together is usually wrapped up in. But this girl pretty much mentions her new boyfriend in every other sentence, and gives no inclination whatsoever that she might be open for girls like that.
Ergo, there's nothing to gain for either me or her in this. So why did I just ask her if she wanted to get together on friday with some people from work, and why did I more than readily accept when she suggested we switch numbers? Why am I wasting her time, and mine?


PS
Whoa, long post. I believe there's material for several more hidden in there in my stream of thoughts.
But let's see how it pans out, it's not as though I can claim to be a regular blogger.
PPS
I really hope the girl will never come across this blog! If you do, you know who you are, and I'M SORRY! You don't have to speak to me ever again.

John Travolta

Ok, so what on earth is going on here? Within ten days, I've had three extremely intense dreams about John Travolta. Coming out of absolute nowhere! I know when you dream of something it doesn't have to have anything to do with that particular thing or person, but whatever it represents for you, or some such hullaballoo. But John Travolta?? He means nothing to me! (Well, apart from the fact that I love him now. But this is the result of the dreams, not the cause of them!)


Dream 1:
I meet John at a rehabilitation center for compulsive overeaters, situated at Christiania here in Copenhagen. He is a client, I have a job there as an assistant to one of the doctors. I can tell he's having a hard time, and show my support. He tells me no-one understands him like I do. We become friends, then lovers. It is a beautiful deep relationship, very romantic and full of mutual respect and acceptance.


I wake up deeply in love.


Dream 2:
John is a nasty piece of work in this one. Instead of a famous millionaire actor, who comes across as a decent type of person, (in my opinion), he is a sadistic redneck type pig of low intelligence. We both live in the countryside, though far apart. He comes into my life when he and a buddy of his, same type of low-life scum as himself, rape and kill my 16-year old niece, and I swear to avenge her.
I kill his friend first. When it comes to John, we fight, and end up in a deadlock, our faces very close. We stare at eachother, and none of us can move. It's like we're trapped in time, a moment seeming to stretch forever. Then, to my deep shame, I feel myself being turned on by the closeness to him. I feel blood rushing to my lips, which are now aching to be kissed, and without wanting to, I move my face even closer to his. His eyes are so beautiful. He kisses me softly, softly, very brief, just the slightest touch, and it is absolute bliss. I'm falling to pieces inside, it is the most amazing feeling in the world.
Next thing I know, we're totally going for it, having raw uninhibited sex, like crazy.


I wake up completely horny.


Dream 3:
I'm back living in London, where John happens to be visiting for a few days, to promote a movie.
Of course I now realise that John is not a murderous animal, and it was only a dream. Neither has he been at rehab in Copenhagen, and unfortunately, our loving relationship was nothing but a dream as well. However, fact remains, I am now in love with him. I have no choice but to find him, and tell him how I feel. I know he will think I'm some stalker weirdo, but I have to grab the slight chance that if I manage to explain myself, to tell him of my dreams and how they made me feel, I might pique his interest in some way. I'd love to go on a proper date with him, but then again, he's married, isn't he?
Nevertheless, I devise several cunning plans, ranging from disguising myself as a maid at the hotel he's staying at, to 'accidentially' bump into him, complete with spill of coffee, pretend I don't know who he is, and offer to buy him a drink to apologise. None of it works. I never get to meet him.


I wake up full of longing.


Please please, no more of this nonsense! Here's hoping.

Confession of ambitions

Following blog post will be quite embarrassing for me, as it is about some personal ambitions of mine which I've only recently fully admitted to myself. However, it must be done. One of the points of this blog is it is based on 100% honesty. (This will probably be the subject of my next post.)
But here goes: I want to be 'famous'. I really do. Though notice how I even have to put the word in quotationmarks, to kind of pretend I keep an ironic distance to the concept of fame. This is very embarrassing for me to admit. Just the other day I was talking to my shrink about this new revelation, and it took me ages just to get the words out of my mouth, as I kept dissolving into giggles and blushing, and 'Oooh nooo, I can't say it, it's so siiiillyyy.' In my world, the things associated with the word 'famous' are in the area of realityshows, spicegirls, glamourmodels, desperation, wannabes and fakes.
So, allow me to immediately put things into perspective, to avoid being judged in the vein of the abovementioned. For those of you who don't know, (though I for the life of me can't imagine who would be reading this if not a personal friend, acquaintance, or fan come in through one of my musicpages), I make music. At this point in time, it is the all-consuming passion of my life. I've only very recently begun to share my efforts through the miracle that is the internet, and I absolutely love it. I love sharing something that means so much to me, and know that it is enjoyed by other people. I love the fact that I'm able to give something, but whoooaa how I also LOVE to be told how great, talented and awesome I am.
This brings me to the analysation of why I feel this need to be famous, why I want people to know my name, and know my work. Fact is, I want to be loved. I want to be wanted, I want to be appreciated, I want validation for my existence. I want not to be worthless, I want not to be useless. If a whole bunch of people think I'm amazing because of what I do, then I count for something. And that makes me feel better.
I really wish my motives for being creative were more pure and unselfish. I know some artists claim what they do is purely for their own sake, and don't care if anyone even knows about it. I somehow find that hard to believe. I deeply enjoy the process of creating music, but I can't imagine I would put a fraction of the same effort into it if I was never allowed to share it. And as for the fact that it gives some joy to the people who listen to it, if I somehow was never allowed to reveal to anybody this was ME, it just wouldn't be nearly as motivating at all. I want the credit for sure.
As for why I feel this need for validation from strangers, people I've never met, and don't know if I'd even give a hoot about if I did, ooooh I don't know. Obviously I ought to be content with being loved and cared about by those who are close to me, and whose opinion and feelings for me should be all that really mattered.
But there it is. I'm a black hole, a vacuum, an ever-expanding emptiness who can never get enough love and appreciation, who needs constant reassurance, and who never ever feels fully convinced that I am truly deserving of any of this. So I'm thinking, maybe if I get many many many more people to know me and want me, maybe it will finally be enough.  I figure it's worth a shot.

Hours in the day

I believe I have a serious time-management problem. (Or life-management!) It is a constant source of wonder to me how people seem to be able to fit everything into their lives, as the most natural thing in the world.

Television! Where oh where are the hours in the day found to spend time on this?? I don't get it. It's not that I don't like watching TV. (especially really crappy superficial stuff, preferably with a silly plot or concept revolving around a bunch of young gorgeous people. But this is a different blog subject altogether.) Everytime I'm at someones house where it's going on, people there can wave goodbye to my attention for sure, as it gets sucked in completely by the screen.

Cooking! First, the shopping. (Which I guess even takes some kind of pre-planning, if to be done efficiently.) Then, the actual cooking. Then comes eating, which is lovely, but is over and done with really fast. Then comes cleaning the dishes, and any leftover mess in the kitchen. So, all in all, when looking at the complete positive to negative ratio, in my opinion it just doesn't add up! (In case anyone wonders what I do for food, and of course you do, as I'm so totally fascinating that you're all obsessed with knowing every detail about me, I can inform you that I eat some bread, bowl of cornflakes, cake, fruit, hot chocolate with porridge oats, or, if things are really crazy, I heat op some pre-made frozen something or other. I don't really care. Always do something else while eating anyway, reading or being on the computer, so it's not like i even notice much.)

A fulltime job! I work less than 30 hours a week, and it completely drains me! How anybody can work 40, or even 50, 60 hours a week for those who have a serious career thing going on, is so strange to me. (Although I guess I have some sort of understanding if it comes to something a person is really on fire for. That I get.)

A relationship! I guess this would mean seeing another person at least two times a week or so? If having just a resemblance to a decent social life at the same time, and not neglecting ones friends too much, this means the amount of time possible to spend alone will be narrowed down to less than three evenings per week. This is nothing! Time to not having any responsibility towards other people, time to not be looked at, time to not having to engage in conversation, time to do some thinking, time to catch up with all sorts of boring practical stuff, time to be creative, time to dream, time to be free.

And don't even get me started on children! How to find time for this is a mystery in a whole league of it's own.

So let me finish by saying I respect and admire those people who are able to do all this. Well done! I wish I could do it.

I don't get it???

Ok. I don't understand what is going on. I am finally skinny, yet I am still not unequivocally happy!! What on earth is happening here?? It is truly the weirdest thing. I am baffled, confused, and perplexed.

After soooo many years, (my teens and all of my adult life), I have been completely and utterly convinced that whatever troubles I may have had, whatever problems, or sadness, or difficulties in relating to other people, or feelings of not being good enough I've experienced along the way, it has all been caused by the fact that I was, on and off, carrying between 4-8 lbs of what I considered to be too much, excess, ugly, hampering, gross, unnecessary, happiness-destroying body fat. If I could only get skinny, I would be happy. My problems would no longer exist. I would be in control, confident, loved, wanted, gorgeous, complete. My life would be perfect. This is how it works! Everybody knows this!

Yet here I am. For some reason, after not being able to stick to a diet or exercise program ever, due to absolutely zero willpower in this area of my life, (I always admired the anorexics for being able to do it, especially when I was younger), the extra weight has dropped off all by itself. Hallelujah, tis a miracle! I just seem to be a tiny bit less hungry than usual, I am suddenly able to let go of this obsession with eating, (well, most of the time), and I get on my bike more, simply as my means of transport to get from point A to B. Simple as that. I am now at the weight I've been striving to reach for the past maaaaaany years.

So yes, I'm here, waiting... When does the happiness kick in?? This was supposed to come as naturally to me as the comfortable way my jeans fit me now.

And honest, I'm not just imagining things here, all my friends tell me how skinny I look! (I always get them to repeat it one more time, just to hear it again.) So what is it? Why oh why do I still have problems, sadness, and stupidness in my life? What went wrong? Am I supposed to lose even more weight? It's the only explanation I can think of. And frankly, this is a disaster. Not only because, as I mentioned, I find it impossible to lose weight when I have to do it. But there's also the issue of my natural bodyshape. I'm a bit broad-shouldered and somewhat muscular, (always been), I have good-sized boobs. My body is not meant to be sticklike, however intensely I wish. So what am I supposed to do? Where is my happiness?? Please someone enlighten me, it's such a complete mystery, and really it's driving me a bit crazy.