Friday, 30 December 2016

Fuck you 2016

2016 has been a year of death, misery and unexpected turns of events.

   Alan Rickman, Muhammad Ali, Prince, Anton Yelchin, Ron Glass, Carrie Fisher... the list of excellent people leaving this life seems to go on forever.
   Homophobia and racism won further ground internationally; the Brussels bombings, the Lahore suicide bombing, Brexit, the Pulse shooting, Donald Trump being elected president, the Aleppo massacre, the Berlin attacks just to mention a few out of too many.

   My struggles with anxiety reached a new high with panic attacks and many a sleepless, heavy and tear-filled night. I haven't been able to focus on much for more than a few minutes at a time. The only things I've just about managed is work (in fact, I received a well-earned salary increase thanks to that), binge-watch just about every single tv show on Netflix and a few hundred hours of Clicker Heroes divided into a maximum of five minutes at a time. Like Bilbo, I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread. No matter how much I do in a day, it's never enough and my insides hurt.

One of the good things coming out of this year is my boyfriend.
And some of the books I've read.
That I quit nicotine at long last.
The Stitch onesie I bought.
My few but very good friends for sure.
The blog passing 60 000 pageviews.
That I bought some delicious teas (from Tefrossa).
I got to travel to Warsaw with two of my great friends.
The tattoo I got.
The autographs I collected.
And that Leonardo DiCaprio finally got his Oscar. But then on the other hand, that might have been the final seal to bring on the Apocalypse. To bring us to our final ends... good times!

Favourite pick of 2016
Movies: Deadpool, Zootopia, Deadpool, Captain America: Civil War, Deadpool, Rogue One: A Star Wars Story and Deadpool. Did I mention Deadpool?
Books: The Martian by Andy Weir was an unexpected happy surprise and a thoroughly good read, Tough Shit by Kevin Smith cracked me up and made me want to listen to Kevin's SModcast (also highly recommended btw), Contact by Carl Sagan was truly marvellous and The Brothers Cabal by Jonathan L. Howard was fantastic.
Events: (Because yes, we need this too.) The Manatee, the Giant Panda and the Humpback Whale are no longer critically endangered. There is now an Ebola vaccine. Suicide rates are going down world wide. Child mortality rates are going down world wide. The ozone layer is healing itself. The money gathered from the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge led to the discovery of a gene that could be the key to beating the decease. See! We actually managed a few good things.

But in conclusion:
2016, kindly fuck the fuck off.
I swear, the bar for 2017 is set so low...
...and I say this knowing full well that Trump's presidency hasn't even started yet and the plan is for Brexit to step into effect this spring. We have a lot of shit to fight and rectify.

Tuesday, 27 December 2016

A very Merry X-Mas indeed

Every year I give myself a few X-Mas gifts as to make sure that I receive something I very much would like to receive. Call me ungrateful but that's how my mum prefers it (she hands me some money followed by "buy something you want, wrap it and say it's from me"). It lacks a certain element of surprise but has an abundance of convenience for the both of us.

   So this year I went with socks with pictures of silly dogs on them. A copy of Fight Club 2 I had to gift-wrap the moment I got it in the mail as to  not read it immediately. A couple of games I found on sale on Steam (I couldn't gift-wrap them but there wasn't any real need to). A wall calendar by Maul Cosplay (entirely for research purposes I assure you, upper left corner warning label reads "High Nipple Rate!" so it really stays true to the game series).

   I needn't have worried about an absence of nerdy gifts though. My sister gave me a TARDIS tea mug and a Doctor Who shower curtain.
   Last but not least I got food.
   Food never fails to make me merry.

Monday, 19 December 2016

Beer with me

Early X-Mas gift from the boyfriend: beer.
The fancy kind I can't waste money on right now.

Thursday, 15 December 2016

The Hutt Recommends: Dandy in the Underworld

Dandy in the Underworld by Sebastian Horsley.
(TW: substance abuse, suicide mention)
"When Mother found out she was pregnant with me she took an overdose. Father gave her the pills. She needed a drama from time to time to remind her that she was still alive. The overdose didn't work. Had she known I would turn out like this she would have taken cyanide." p.1
This is how the autobiography of Sebastian Horsley takes its flying start, and it continues in the same self-deprecating spirit. With every page Sebastian takes us through a life of escapades littered with absurdity and vulgarity.
   After growing up one of three children born of negligent addicts in what I can only describe as an abusive setting ("Indeed, everyone in my life who should have been vertical was horizontal."p.38) Sebastian sued his father for a large sum of money, consorted with convicted murderers, went to art school and fell in love all before seeing his twentieth birthday. He'd move on to get married, commit adultery, get divorced, continue to make art, do heavy drugs and sleep with prostitutes in between making massive amounts of money on the stock market. Even Sebastian could see his addiction to crack getting overboard so he got himself into a clinic. Stayed clean for a while. Started doing crack again. Got off of crack. Got into heroin. Got off heroin. Constructed a few art shows that didn't do too well. It wasn't until he went to the Philippines to have himself crucified in front of a camera team that he found himself in the spotlight not only in the UK but internationally.
   The main theme is dandyism in all its eccentricity; it is always the subject to which Sebastian unrelentingly returns to.
 "I was a disciple of satin and Satan." p.263
The book is revolting at times, shocking... most of the time.
   This also happens to be one of my favourite books. Sebastian Horsley was an artist of words, a wordsmith in truth, and Dandy in the Underworld is proof of that. Yes, some of these recollections are at the height of absurdity but always described in such an elegant, witty and brilliant way that you can't help but keep reading and taking it in. Here is the man who started doing heavy drugs, make 'art' with his own excrement and have frequent meetings with prostitutes before the age of twenty. He would later also get crucified, get banned from entering the US for 'moral turpitude' and make a YouTube Guide to Whoring.
   I have great trouble remembering that this was in fact a real person who died of an overdose in 2010, only three years after the publishing of this autobiography  and only two days after the premiere of the one-man show based on the book. His friend Toby Young, a journalist you might also know as the writer of How to Lose Friends and Alienate People, commented that "if it had been suicide Sebastian would not have passed up on the opportunity to write a note" and considering what a slave to drama dear old Mr Horsley was, that sounds pretty much on the nose. So he made a book out of it. Dandy in the Underworld ends with what I can only interpret as the finale and finishing touches to a suicide note of epic proportions.

 "I came into this world a king, I leave it a wild card. I believe in being nothing - but with as much style as I can." p.322
This book is not for everyone. I love it.

Wednesday, 14 December 2016

Third down

   Sean Astin is an amazing human being.
   Lucky he turned out to be the amazing human being he is, because he was the only reason I decided to hop on a train (train commuting in this country is tragic, always count on being at least 20 minutes late to your destination) and go to Stockholm (a city I dislike terribly and try to avoid unless I'm paid) and their take on the Scandinavian Sci-Fi, Game and Film Convention (arranged several times a year in different cities).
   This was my third Con this year (Gothenburg, Helsingborg, and now Stockholm) because... LotR actors. David Wenham, Billy Boyd and now Sean Astin. I've started hunting them down to make them sign my LotR trilogy illustrated by Alan Lee.
   Astin ended the signing (after having had a geek-out over the illustrations) with slamming the book shut and pinning me with a stare.
Him: "You know what I hate about you?"
Me, squinting suspiciously: "What?"
Him: "Nothing!"
   After which he laughed, grabbed my hand, shook it and told me he loved my hair. And that's that.
   Three down.

Tuesday, 6 December 2016

Fantastic rubbish and why I disliked it


If you had it in your mind to think that this was the movie about the author of the much talked about textbook Fantastic Beasts and Where To Find Them, the widely appreciated magizoologist Newt Scamander, you can just do yourself a favour and toss that thought out the window.
   Let me tell you a thing:
   In the movie Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them we travel to the USA in the 1920's to sneak a peek at how the magical society's arranged outside of Europe. Here we get to follow the No-Maj (see also: 'muggle') Jacob Kowalski; a man stuck in a dead end job at a can factory but with grand dreams of eventually opening a bakery. Life is strange and the ginger man with the suitcase that Jacob runs into at the bank even more so, and suddenly he crashes head first into the magical world.

   This movie had no hook.
   In classic movie making you spend the first 20-30 minutes of a movie introducing characters and presenting the problem that will have to be solved or the mission that needs to be completed through the course of the movie. Example: Zootopia - meet Judy Hopps, the bunny who wants to be a cop. Within 10 minutes we know who Judy is and what her goals are. Within the next 10 minutes we know the problems she'll have to face and get past. Within a total of 30 minutes I know exactly who Judy is, what her motivations are and her mission for the remaining 60 minutes. There are of course exceptions (mostly sequels) and even though we're supposed to already know the world in which Fantastic Beasts is set, we really don't (because this is more of a bad reboot) and the characters are all new to us.
   What I'm referring to is called 'the hook' - it is what will draw us in to the story and make us interested in sticking with the characters for the duration of the movie. The hook should make us root for the main character.
   I had no fucking clue what the movie was about until well over an hour into the movie and even then it was mostly guesswork. I realised just how empty it was. It was a movie about nothing, with plenty of surface and nostalgic hints at something that used to be popular.

   This movie gave the main character no character.
   Newt Scamander was an empty shell of a man. We received no info about Newt's personality, his motivations nor his goals. It took us over 40 minutes to find out that Newt had a passion for magical creatures, something I would think should be vital for the story to move on. But no. When we had landed that lil' tidbit of info I was already way over this movie. The same void of info applies to his pal Tina Goldstein by the way. By the end of the movie I was struck by the fact that I had probably seen more of Eddie Redmayne's hair than his face. Interesting choice but hardly a good one.
   There was no character building going on, but then on the other hand there was absolutely no character traits to build FROM. What makes it really ironic is that the side character Kowalski was rather well-formed by the end of the movie; we knew his personality (sweet, kind and curious), his goals (open bakery) and the problems he has to face before that (no money, dead end job, ginger wizard with a suitcase full of strange creatures). We even knew more about Kowalski's background halfway through the movie than we knew about Newt's.

   I never rooted for Newt. I rooted for Kowalski.

   No chemistry between spouses.
   For some of us the Harry Potter books was an excellent chance to accumulate some History of Magic by heart. Newt Scamander and Porpentina 'Tina' Goldstein supposedly get married, procreate and eventually bless us with the presence of Loony Lovegood. Whatever love these two develop for each other, they do not develop it during the duration of this movie. There is no budding love between these two. There is nothing but a blank disinterest visible to the viewer.
   Is there a beautiful something going on between Kowalski and Queenie? Yes. Again, interesting choice but hardly a good one.

   There is a magic fix for everything.
   This movie would have us think that there are no limits; magic fixes anything, you can do anything and there is no cost of magic ...really? If there are no limits and no costs anyone could do anything and things get dull very quickly from there. I was appalled to find myself losing interest in a world than meant everything to me for so many years.
   J.K. Rowling, sweetheart, you need to have a talk with Brandon Sanderson about the construction of a believable system of magic. There used to be one. But you obviously lost it. Deal with that, please.

   Casual fatphobia.
   OK, so Newt can fit a fucking rhinoceros into his suitcase with ease but a chubby guy is too much of a fucking challenge? COME THE FUCK ON!! Lazy jokes does not a good movie make.

   And then there's Johnny fucking Depp.
   I'm not even going to start on how over-appreciated I think Depp has been for the last fifteen years. Ever since Pirates of the Caribbean Depp has played nothing but Jack Sparrow. All other characters have been Jack Sparrow pretending to be someone else. Add to that Depp's latest departure down Wife Beater Lane and I can't see how ANYONE felt it was a good idea to cast him in a Young Adult movie. The moment he entered the screen I laughed out loud in disbelief. I couldn't believe it even though I knew he'd be involved somehow and hadn't yet seen him on screen. It was absurd. I can't.

TL;DR: I'm not upset because I expected miracles from Fantastic Beasts. On the contrary, I expected disaster.
And I was still disappointed by the end credits.

Sunday, 27 November 2016

RIP Shepherd

2016 has proved itself to be a truly shitty year for our heroes. Now we face giving our tearfilled good bye's to Ron Glass - the man who will always be the mysterious and versatile Shepherd Book of the Firefly universe to me.

Capt Malcolm Reynolds giving his good bye's.

Friday, 18 November 2016

Skillet on a Wednesday

   It was a dark November Wednesday evening and I went to see Skillet and Red Sun Rising. I drank mediocre generic type beer and enjoyed some good music from where I stood at the back of the room. While Red Sun Rising were playing on stage I found myself surrounded by a group of young men I found eerily familiar. I suspiciously eyed them through the whole show. They turned out to be the members of Avatar.
So that happened.

   Then Skillet came on. Don't get me wrong, each to their own, but I've always found myself ridiculously uncomfortable around openly religious people. So when lead vocalist John Cooper started talking about his "hero, Jesus Christ" I clutched my beer glass tightly and made an effort not to roll my eyes too hard or groan too loudly. Luckily for my awkward ass, Jesus was never included again.
It was a good night.

Wednesday, 16 November 2016

Tuesday, 15 November 2016

Weird stuff and music

It just hit me.
I'm going to see Russel Howard next summer.
Like, WOAH. It's going to be hilarious.
Tomorrow I'm off to see American band Skillet at a local club. Where the singer from one of my favourite bands from my teenage rage days DJ from time to time. He sometimes shops at the store where I work.
Life is weird.

I love Gothenburg.

Sunday, 13 November 2016

The Hutt Recommends: The Brothers Cabal

The Brothers Cabal by Jonathan L. Howard.

Remember when I rather bluntly hinted that this book would hit the Swedish market? I got it for Christmas last year and devoured it rapidly shortly after.

   Last time we got to read about Johannes and Horst one brother was slipping into unconsciousness and certain death by garden demon, and the other was, quite frankly, in a pile of ashes.
   What I really missed after moving on to the second and third parts of this series, and Horst's untimely demise, was the kind of quick-witted banter that passed between the two brothers. Nothing quite compares to brotherly love as shown through sarcastic insults.
   Here, I finally get my wish.

   In a satanic ritual, Horst Cabal is risen from the dead. Well, he's still a vampire so... still dead. But at least not in ashes. Anyway! Horst lives! (Kind of.) Resurrected (-ish) by an occult conspiracy he is to lead an army of the undead in the forthcoming war to create a land of horrors - a nation of supernatural beings. The more Horst is told of this nefarious plan the less enthused he is by the idea of it all. Not even the fact that he would actually be the ruler of the vampiric race of this new nation of supernaturals can rouse what little fighting spirit he ever had. He just wants his old way of life back - a little recreational drinking, respectfully seducing women into romantic yet strangely morally appropriate encounters. It doesn't take a genius to see that it would be impossible for him to fight the whole cult on his own though. He needs help. Perhaps the kind of help you can expect from a heavily armed sarcastic necromancer with a searing hatred for evil wizards with unfashionable trousers...

   Demons from alternate dimensions. Soup. Rebels. Airplanes. The moans of the undead. Tentacles.
   No zebras this time. But there is a werebadger.

   I know some people have made this book out to be the weakest of the series because of the lack of Johannes in the first half of the story, but since I adore Horst I was entirely blind to the problem. Having felt for the entirety of the third book that Johannes had lost sight of the core of his initial life mission, the return of Horst to remind Johannes of his past promises gave me new hope to see progress. Well. I didn't quite recieve all that but there'll be more books. (The Fall of the House of Cabal just came out. A title not at all ominous. No, not at all. I need it.)
   I prefer this book over both the second and third parts of the series but the previous parts are vital to follow along. It's just so much more entertaining to shove someone so blantantly different from Johannes into the spotlight and make them cooperate. Force them to interact and fight for a common goal.
   Now shoo, go read it.

Thursday, 10 November 2016

Monday, 31 October 2016

Autumn darkness sucks

Today's mood is a great resounding "MEH". It was dark when I staggered half asleep off to work this morning and it was equally dark as I left... this time of year is no fun at all.

Wednesday, 19 October 2016

The Hutt Recommends: The Name of the Wind

The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss.
First of The Kingkiller Chronicles.

   The road of life has been long, winding and most arduous for Kvothe – adventurer, famous musician, arcanist and living legend - now living out his life quietly and as anonymously as possible as an innkeeper in a rural town. He's been across the world and seen many things, been hunted by demons, studied the arts of magic and swordsmanship, spent time with the fae and is even rumoured to have killed a king...
So when Chronicler is attacked by demons on the road and Kvothe saves him (which also leads to Chronicler realising just who his saviour is) he offers to put Kvothe's story on record as thanks. After some consideration, Kvothe agrees and with that our story begins.

   I really enjoyed this novel. It's a story within a story within a story, because while we're listening to a life as told by the old Kvothe, young Kvothe is chasing a completely different story - the layering is excellent. Sure, we might have heard the story before; brilliant young man becomes hero, but it's still a welcomed story and Rothfuss actually does something quite new and exciting with it despite the predictability that experienced fantasy readers might feel. It leaves you wanting for the next part of the story.
My big weakness nowadays, especially with fantasy and scifi fiction, is finding the major female characters and analyzing them to bits. In this case we have in our main girl a variation of Sexy Lamp with Manic Pixie Dream Girl syndrome. Lets be frank; I hated her. The story could have gone on without her and been better off for it. I know Kvothe would be better off without her, that's for sure.

   The novel's on the heavier side with 700+ pages so if you're not in to  that you can download it and instead listen to 40+ hours of Kvothe's adventures. In either case, I recommend it.

   With the immense success of Game of Thrones I'm very surprised that the rumours from several years ago that Kingkiller Chronicles were going to be adapted into a tv series haven't given results yet. I guess we'll just have to give them a few more years...
...just like we seem to have to give Rothfuss a few more years for the continuation of the Kingkiller Chronicles.

Wednesday, 12 October 2016

Feathers and bones

I've got a new tattoo!
   "Again?" I hear you mutter, and yes, again. I finally got around to putting a chestpiece on this delectable bod. Ever since I began wanting tattoos I've been hesitant about chestpieces in particular for a myriad of reasons including but not limited to that they're not as easy to hide (something I've always been very specific about wanting to be able to do) and were rumoured to hurt like a motherfucker to get done, more so than the tattoos I wanted on my legs. Put on a shirt with the least bit of a lower neckline and the ink is visible, but even I had to admit they look fantastic when well made. So when I found out one of my favourite artists on DeviantArt was also a tattoo artist I felt like it was meant to be. I made a sketch, booked a time, booked a flight to where I could find her studio (yeah, you guessed it - Warsaw) et voilà! Just about 4,5 hours under the needle and done.
It's healing up nicely now.
   And the rumours about the pain were absolutely 100% true. Hoooooly hell, did it hurt.

   Just for fun I took a stroll around the corner to Instagram Land and checked out whether or not the tattoo artist had put up any pictures of my tattoo there. It's not like she asked me if she could do it or alerted me to it, which I would have appreciated by the way since it happens to be my chest, but she's the artist so I guess it's still fair. And indeed there it was with plenty of lovely comments to go with it.
There was also a picture of her in a bastardised Native American style war bonnet. Suddenly the bit about her putting up pictures of my chestpiece without telling me didn't seem all that bad. She describes her selfie as a tribute to a beautiful headdress, knowing full well she's going to have a shit storm in the comments section about cultural appropriation, but... people have been murdered for wearing war bonnets (the real thing, not her cheap Indonesian faux crap). Millions and millions of people were murdered, raped and displaced in North America, and continue to be treated terribly today. Realising just how ignorant and disrespectful she is of Native American history kind of hurt a little because I admired her work. What makes it worse is that even after being told repeatedly by actual Native Americans about how and why it's wrong of her to use that war bonnet she admits to no wrongdoing.

   I realise it doesn't take away from how awesome my tattoo is but it makes sure I will not be returning to her studio.
   On a positive note; I have a Harry Potter-themed tattoo.

   SHE TOOK THE PICTURE DOWN! Not the ones of my tattoo but the one with her wearing the bastardised war bonnet. Last time I checked before she took it down the comment section was starting to get a little... infected.

Tuesday, 27 September 2016


I must have started reading the Bartimaeus trilogy around the age of seventeen. I was in the middle of my moody hormonal teenage years and fled to the fantasy genre for comfort. And found Bartimaeus. Equal parts sarcasm and vindictiveness*, Bartimaeus really spoke to me**. So much so I have all four books written*** about this little djinn****. They are described as children's books but I still think they have elements even adults can enjoy*****.
Obviously, I had to grab the opportunity to meet Jonathan Stroud as he visited Gothenburg last week and so I did. Such a wonderful man.

*both Bartimaeus and I
**well, not me personally
***Amulet of Samarkand, Golem's Eye, Ptolemy's Gate, Ring of Solomon
****Bartimaeus wouldn't agree on the "little"
*****and bring your enjoyment of footnotes to a whole new level

Thursday, 22 September 2016

Happy Hobbit Day!

Today is September 22nd and that's the birthday of both Frodo and Bilbo Baggins!
So happy birthday to two of the most important hobbitses that ever walked outside of the Shire and a Happy Hobbit Day to all of you followers.

Credit to Kiptay.

Wednesday, 21 September 2016

A short word on running

See this happy jogger?

That is some pure bullshit right there. No one looks like that while running. OK, that might be an exaggeration for a bit of the good old comical effect but very few looks like that while running. It's a huge lie. If I see someone running for exercise they always have the same focused expression; a lot of concentration, a little bit of pain. 
I look more like this:

And then add a whole lot of anger. I also sound and feel like that. Every damned time. Yes, I've just started and yes, I know it'll get easier but no, I don't think I'll ever enjoy it. I just want to be able to sleep.

Bonus mantra on repeat in brain: "I fucking hate running. Endorphins are my friend. Why do I do this. I want to murder every motherfucker telling me how good this is for me. My lungs are on fire. Endorphins are my friend. Rage will get me up this hill. Fuck running. Can I die now. Just a little more. Endorphins are my friend.  I fucking hate this. How can people enjoy this. Everything hurts."

Sunday, 18 September 2016

Happy B-Day to Me

I live alone so it's on me to make me those special meals that I know I enjoy. Like birthday  breakfast. This year I presented a tableau of freshly baked walnut scones with butter, silver shred and cheese. Some veggies with that. Big glass of orange juice. Big mug of coffee. Small bowl of muesli with soy yogurt, and blueberries I picked during my summer vacation up north. All the good stuff for this lil' ol' hobbit (though by hobbit standards I have a few years left until I come of age and officially become an adult). And the balloons of course. I need those balloons to wade through as I zombie-walk to the kitchen for my coffee. Balloons make everything nicer. Especially since I didn't get that much sleep last night because of nightmares. Nightmares really suck.

Thursday, 15 September 2016

There be bugs on DA

Omigod, I sure am happy I don't use DeviantArt much these days because without their, now rather expensive, Core membership the whole site is so buggy it's basically inoperable.

And that's another thing! If you're a young struggling artist wanting to get your art out there and maybe even make some money off of it, how the hell are you expected to afford this Core membership? Are you to rely on the generosity of others to get Core? If so I'd recommend Patreon instead.

You don't even have to be a young struggling artist to not afford Core. And I'm still fuming about how they never announced the change in DeviantArt's membership protocols, while every other teeny-tiny update to the site is announced immediately. I'm not a struggling artist but before ($)Core I chose to be a paying member because it wasn't that much of an effort to support DeviantArt and its more active members.
Now, not so much.

Wednesday, 10 August 2016

A quite different travel agency

I've been pimping my flat some more. Oh, the wonderful ways procrastination can work out for me sometimes. "What was that? I should be packing for my week-long trip? Uhmmmyeah, I'm just gonna scrub down my bathroom, wax my legs, clean my windows and redecorate my flat first." All in good time, all in good time.

Tuesday, 9 August 2016

Harry Potter character reevaluation

First time reading Harry Potter series: I HATE that know-it-all bitch Hermione Granger, Harry Potter is a hero, Ron Weasley is a clutz and Albus Dumbledore is a genius. Severus Snape is evil.

Second time reading the Harry Potter series: I guess Hermione Granger is ok, Harry Potter is a hero beit an annoying one, Ron Weasley is a clutz, Albus Dumbledore is actually pretty manipulative and Severus Snape is an evil creep.

Third time reading the Harry Potter series: Hermione Granger is awesome and I'd like to be more like her, Harry Potter is annoying as fuck, Ron Weasley is strangely underrated, Minerva McGonagall is pretty badass and Albus Dumbledore is a manipluative douchebag. Severus Snape is a creep.


Friday, 5 August 2016

The Hutt travels: Warsaw

So I went to Warsaw.
And I reached the conclusion that Warsaw is a boring city.
Don't get me wrong, it's a very INTERESTING city. There's just not that much going on. Plenty of museums to get the history nerds hot and bothered; Medieval Art, Science, Modern Art... as well as Old Town with the Royal Castle and everything - BEAUTIFUL. But speaking as a book worm and geek I felt rather let down. My company and I found two comic book stores in the city centre; one where not a single item was in English and the other where, lo and behold, we had a whole shelf of comics in English. But no English-speaking staff to guide us. Plenty of young nerds, not a word of English. Aesthetically, Warszawa looks as if torn between USSR concrete block efficiency and modern glass superstructures.
As a foodie I was thrilled though! We only went to vegan places throughout our stay (which meant two a day during three days time) and WOW. I recommend everyone to try Tel-Aviv Food & Wine (best damn hummus and tempeh I've ever had the pleasure of putting in my mouth), Lokal Vegan Bistro (they did NOT skimp on the chanterelles and also had ridiculously handsome staff, like DAMN!) and Krowarzywa (delicious vegan burgers to die for).

This hutt went to Warsaw Old Town.

I'm going back later this year to check out all I missed this time around.

Monday, 25 July 2016

I has a proud!

Feel the pride oozing off of me.
When I sew a new outfit I have a certain inclination to never finish it entirely but always leave one or two itty bitty details that stay unfinished for years. I've had this hobby for a while now but haven't gotten around to finishing a complete outfit until now. This weekend as by a miracle I got that wonderful ache to create and voilà! A completed late 14th century outfit. I fixed some details on my belt (belt, strapend and brass mounts have been lying around for two years), finally finished my St. Birgitta's cap (also two years in the making, effin' hand-stitching) and a veil (cheated a little and bought one from a friend despite having fabric for one lying around). With the belt purses hanging off the belt and my hair finally being long enough for plaits it really comes together.
It's warm as hell but looks amazing.

Saturday, 16 July 2016

I am Experiment 626

I've bought some new pj's and I love 'em so much. So much so that I haven't changed out of them since I got them on. The fact that my nerdy man doesn't mind me wearing silly pj's all day long just means that he's awesome.
And I'm silly.
So now we're eating rhubard cobbler and drinking vanilla chai while watching Elementary.
Me in my pj's and him in just his underwear.


Sunday, 10 July 2016

Disney these days

There's an hilarious Breaking Bad reference in Zootopia. And several G.I. Jane references. BUT THERE'S A HUGE BREAKING BAD REFERENCE IN A DISNEY MOVIE.

Thursday, 7 July 2016

The Hutt (kind of) Recommends: Something More Than Night

Something More Than Night by Ian Tregillis.

The story makes a running start when the ashy remains of the murdered archangel Gabriel rains down on Earth to earn the attention of our wannabe gumshoe and voluntarily part-time exiled angel Bayliss. Though mystified, Bayliss knows that this is the time to get cracking on finding a replacement for old Gabby which he sets out to do... to find that not only was Gabriel murdered but the Jericho Trumpet has gone missing, setting Heaven on the cusp of overwhelming crisis and the victim of a con job millions of years in the making. Somehow Bayliss knows that he's been played the fool by heavenly powers that want to make certain none other than old Bayliss himself gets fingered for the job. On top of that he fumbles the angel recruitment process and is suddenly stuck with the hot-tempered Molly. Bayliss now needs to solve a heavenly mystery AND act babysitter for a newborn angel whilst not getting in the way of the more belligerent members of the Heavenly Choir or the METATRON.

I was about ready to give up on the book soon after getting started on the first chapter. The book didn't speak to me at all (Bayliss and I obviously don't get along - he's a sexist douche canoe), until I finally reached chapter 2 and was properly introduced to Molly Pruett. Not only does her name sound a lot like another fellow redhead (my favourite mother hen Molly Weasley née Prewett from the Harry Potter books) but also, she's a lesbian whose story arc does not overuse, fetishise or stereotype her sexuality. (Without spoiling anything, the name is basically the one thing the two Molly's have in common. That, red hair and a temper.)
The narrative is split between long parts, often chapters, where Bayliss narrates and the other long parts, also often chapters, where a third party narrates Molly's actions. I got through the book much the same way I got through A Song of Ice and Fire - I read through the boring chapters (Bayliss or Daenerys) to get to the good bits (Molly or Tyrion/Jon/Cersei).

I read a review of the book in passing that explained how the cover was better than the book itself and... they're not wrong. Sadly. Or maybe I'm just not the noir detective story type AT ALL. (I'm not, really.) And don't get me started on the physics! I don't have a degree (not even close) but Tregillis has a doctorate in this stuff and likes showing off a bit.

This book was not for me.
But I finished the fucker nonetheless.

Wednesday, 6 July 2016

60 000 pageviews

The blog just passed 60 000 pageviews (since july 2010).
A great many thanks and high-fives to all of you.

Monday, 4 July 2016

Pride is still relevant

Pride is still political. Pride started as a riot and should still be a riot. It's not all cute and fluffy and glitter make-up and rainbows. We need to be angry and in people's faces as well. Not violently, but relentlessly.

Friday, 1 July 2016

Roller coaster mood crisis

I'm having some severe ups and downs mood-wise right now and I have no clue as to why. The shifts between happy and giggling to furious and biting people's heads off are many and abrupt. I apologise to everyone whose misfortune it is to cross paths with me.
I need to sort myself out, but I don't know how.

Tuesday, 28 June 2016

Post Midsummer

I've had an incredible weekend. Strange, but overwhelmingly... It was great.

Wednesday, 22 June 2016

Happy Midsummer!

I might not look forward to this traditionally festive occassion as much as many of my fellow Swedes but at least I look cool as fuck.
One more work day and then I'm off on a romantic weekend with my man.
Laters, nerds! 😛

Tuesday, 21 June 2016

Wednesday, 15 June 2016

The Hutt Recommends: Lighthousekeeping

Lighthousekeeping by Jeanette Winterson

Last time I mentioned this book I wrote that it's not what I usually read, because what I usually read is classic scifi (Adams, Henlein, Verne, Asimov etc) and fantasy of all sorts (Pratchett, Lynch, Rothfuss, Tolkien, Rowling etc). Tales of the supernatural.
But not this one. Not really.

It's difficult to give a short account of Lighthousekeeping.
It's about a girl named Silver raised in the 1960's, orphaned by a windy Scottish town called Salts. But it's also about a man called Babel Dark who built the lighthouse where Silver is taken in by the blind lighthousekeeper Pew. Pew tells Silver many things. Stories that will shape her and set her on a journey into life, trouble and love.
Pervading themes are light and dark, and the stark contrast between what is permanent and what is ever-changing and how to find meaning in balancing the two.

As far as storytelling goes, Winterson does a wonderful job weaving a tale over centuries. It immediately soared to my Top 5 Favourite Books and after reading it again I can honestly say that I will read it again.
Other people have called it extraordinary and so will I.
"Our business was light, be we lived in darkness./... /Darkness came with everything. It was standard. My clothes were trimmed with dark./.../The darkness had to be brushed away or parted before we could sit down. Darkness squatted on the chairs and hung like a curtain across the stairway./.../ I learned to see in it, I learned to see through it, and I learned to see the darkness of my own."

Wednesday, 25 May 2016

Happy Towel Day

Today is a very important day for me. Today is the 25th of May. Today I celebrate Towel Day and remember the brilliance brought to my life by Douglas Adams. The love I have for this author is immense and every year on this day I remember just what a shame it is that he didn't get the chance to write more. Do more. Experience more of the technological advances we've made in the last decade and a half.
The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy is very different from other pieces of scifi I've read. Despite actually being dystopian, the Earth being demolished and all that, it's absolutely hilarious. It is so easy to identify with our main character Arthur Dent; a man who just happened to end up an intergalactic hitchhiker and isn't very happy about it.
I've read the books.
I've listened to the books.
They are fantastic.

Tuesday, 24 May 2016

This nerd's home

This past weekend I really got busy.
I repainted a chest of drawers for my bedroom, put up brass curtain hooks to finally let some sunshine in, hung a poster of the Shire and reduced the height of that pile of clothes that needed some rejuvenation before wearing. Also went to a Geek Pride parade. Didn't wear my hobbit costume.

Sunday, 15 May 2016

Deadpool - new and improved

Yeah, I fucking LOVED that the damage done by that tragic excuse for a Wolverine movie was entirely obliterated by the great success that is Deadpool. And yeah sure, I'm aware that it's only thanks to afore mentioned success that the next Wolverine movie might actually be 'R'-rated. We'll see.

Monday, 9 May 2016

This man of... mine?

It's not official until it's on facebook, right? I mean, that's what I've been told. I dunno. This has to be seen as foreign territory to me after being single for the last 6½ years. I actually have a boyfriend. Let that sink in for a moment...

And it was him that I took with me to Dara O'Briain last night to have a fantastic time.


Saturday, 7 May 2016

Time to get this Hutt crispy

Haven't updated in a while now due to 'life' getting me down yet again. Coming back from my relaxing little mini vacation only to be hit in the face by everyday pet peeves that suddenly ganged up on me made me seriously consider uprooting myself and becoming a hermit. That way I won't have to deal with any other idiocy but my own. I hate reality.

But alas, I was finally able to supress my seething anger and move on. This much thanks to one of my closest friends paying me a visit to let me vent my frustration but also make me experiment with cooking. For the first time ever we made Chinese dumplings and though they were rather time consuming in the making, they were in the end absolutely yummy. Being brought back up from my mood swing I'm now also back to reading and that meant picking up the next book on my ever growing list of reading material; 'Anansi Boys' by Neil Gaiman (a kind of sequel to 'American Gods' which I loved). Slow start but gathers up speed pretty quickly after the first 30 or so pages. I've only about 70 pages left but had to move out of the sun by reason of being paler than a sheet of bleached paper and expecting to be lobster red by sunset.

Oh, and Psst! Tomorrow is the day I get to see Dara O'Briain perform his stand-up Crowd Tickler here in Gothenburg. That'll be amazing beyond words.

Friday, 8 April 2016

Bad/Good mornings

Some mornings I find myself waking up to find something out of the Black Lagoon looking back at me from the mirrors. Other mornings I feel like I could conquer the world.
This last autumn has been absolutely terrible for me with a lot of stress and tension both in my professional and private life and Christmas didn't make it any better. At all. So I promised myself that I would take time off as soon as I could and catch up on sleep and company. Which I now have. I've had two weeks off and fuck me, they've done miracles!
I've finished three books, slept a bit, gone back to the gym, had company, had great food... and I've had some good mornings.

Thursday, 7 April 2016

Cheers Mr. Wenham

I went to the Scandinavian SciFi, Game & Film Convention in Gothenburg this past weekend and after having queued for 1,5 hours to get in(!) I went straight for David Wenham's table. Once at the table I barely had time to get my Lord of the Rings book out of my rucksack before it was my turn. To pay 300SEK for an autograph and a non-commital half-smile smarts a bit but was totally worth it when looking at the end result.

Thursday, 24 March 2016

A time when "disgusting" was synonymous with my body

What follows is a rant about body image and my ways of dealing with it.

I'm 27 years old and I've kept a personal diary since I was 13. I tend to burn the note books I use as I finish writing them. However, this last diary has lasted me since spring 2008 depending on the fact that I haven't written as regularly as I might have needed to for my own sanity's sake. It's been a tool to sort out and get rid of bad feelings that would otherwise fester and turn into even bigger monsters than they already are to begin with.
Sometimes I decide, against my better judgement, to leaf through this diary just to see what's happened in my life. I mean, it is over seven years of my life compressed into text and ticket stubs, including the time I spent studying in Belfast. Not much has happened as it turns out, apparently I'm not that adventurous, but something radical may have happened to my self image.

When I've written anything about my body or my looks I have always used the word "disgusting" or a variation thereof. Always, without exceptions. That word seems to have been synonymous with my body throughout many years of my life, but I am so SICK and tired of disliking myself based on societal norms that I have internalised over years and years of being exposed to all the wrong media. About four years ago I started following a massive amount of body-positive blogs on Tumblr and actively tried to see the beauty in people's differences. Fuck body-hate and all of that.  Like, if this person on my screen can look this fucking beautiful and confident and amazing then why can't I with all of my similar imperfections? It's sunken in slowly and gradually. It's taken years. At first I was furious because I was absolutely certain that I couldn't possibly be as beautiful and feel as good (or even deserved it) as these perfect people I came across every day on my Tumblr dash. It was only recently that I accepted that I will never be really skinny or, seeing as I'm a tall person, even close to petite (which is the only way I've been told one can be beautiful) and that I would probably rather look like She-Hulk than Angelina Jolie. AND THAT'S OKAY because not everybody does or can and what the hell, I will never look like She-Hulk either, who am I kidding but that's ok too. I'm me and I'm fucking awesome.

Strangely enough, getting tattooed was one of those things that really helped me feeling more beautiful. I've covered pieces of me that I didn't appreciate (my legs have always bothered me, especially my thighs) with artwork and now I can't wait for summer so I can show them off without further excuse. Who gives a shit about stretch marks and cellulite when there's gorgeous art attached to the same piece of skin?
Other things that pushed me to see myself in a different light include getting full length mirrors and taking a ton of selfies. Yes, selfies. It works for me.

It's a slooooooow and constant process but it gladdens me that I don't use that word about myself as much anymore, but that's much because I've gone from talking about my "disgusting" body and how much I resent it to not mentioning it much at all. My body is there, it exists, but it doesn't bother me in the same way anymore. My body is not the most important thing about me. I have good days and I have bad days, obviously, but I am getting closer to a point where I can accept my body and use it for all the good it can do me. The point is that there's less anxiety surrounding it now and for once I actually feel like I have some sort of control over it. Autonomy. Freedom to do as I wish with it; be it dying my hair green, going to the gym (or not), wearing certain types of clothes (or none at all), eating food ("good" and "bad") or sticking jewellery in my nose (or other parts of my body). That's my choice and I've been too preoccupied with what other people might think of it to consider how it might make me feel.

I'm surrounded by good people these days. Good feminist people that will not take any bullshit from anyone. That helps, A LOT. Reading feminist body-positive texts about how I am beautiful independently of other people's opinions is also good because I feel like I really need that reminder whenever possible. I am allowed to love myself no matter what other people might think.
I must refuse to be the product of somebody elses desire but my own.

This has been a rant.
Over and out.

Sunday, 20 March 2016

I think I want a furball

I've had zero inspiration to write or read anything lately. When I haven't played the Talos Principle I've mostly been torn between wanting to get a cat (only to see exactly why I shouldn't get one, namely fur) and wanting to get on the bus to be with that Man I've Been Seeing (only to have my sense of duty a thirst for money hit me over the head). Books that would normally have taken me a few days to finish takes forever to get through and I can't get my brain to focus long enough to finish any of the blog posts I've planned. Come to think of it, I haven't had much inspiration for much else either - like cleaning and folding laundry and all that stuff.

So today I've missed my old cat Torsten. He'd have loved it here with me. Until he'd realised that he wasn't allowed outside. That'd make him go blender on my face 💕  

Gone but never forgotten.

Tuesday, 1 March 2016

Filed under X

In the last week I've binge-watched over three seasons of the X Files.
I haven't seen any of it before (except that one episode I accidentally watched when I was wee little that traumatised me for life) but still felt like I should be a good lil' nerd and at least give it a chance (and make it easier for myself as I watch the new recently released episodes). So I have. And as far as I can tell it's about two FBI agents of which one constantly gets in trouble (Mulder) and the other cleans up the mess whilst rolling her eyes exquisitely (Scully).

I'm here for this.
Six more seasons to go.

Monday, 29 February 2016

On dogs and cars

I've met a person that makes my heart want to break out of my chest, if only to let the butterflies harbouring within escape. My life has been turned upside down and plunged into chaos in the few months since he entered it and I feel like I have done so many wrongs to land this one right.

I feel like a dog happily chasing after a car.
Well, I caught the damned car, what do I do now?


Congratulations to Leonardo DiCaprio who've finally won that Academy Award he deserves.

Look at that happy lil' face!

Well done you!

Sunday, 10 January 2016

Ehehe, he so scared

I've watched it sooooo many times now, but it's still fuuuuunny.

Thank you, Markiplier.

Thursday, 7 January 2016

Oh no

I just realised something. My tattoo. My TARDIS tattoo. The sign on the front of the TARDIS is on the wrong door. A whole year I've had that tattoo and only now did I see it. I always see it in a mirror and it's right when mirrored! I didn't see it! Well, hell.
I can't be bovvered.

Friday, 1 January 2016

Dear 2015,

At the beginning of the year I made a promise to not make any promises for you, the upcoming year. No new year's resolutions that I could get anxious about or break. I'd say it worked out pretty well for me.

The blog passed 50 000 pageviews in 2015. To my great relief I moved, not once but twice. It was kind of coincidental (accidental?), yes, but it did land me with my own place in the end (and far more importantly; away from the Corridor which I was so desperately trying to escape).

At the end of April I took that trip to Old Blighty that I started planning at the end of last year together with a dear friend of mine. As if all of this didn't make it seem like I have all the money in the world I also got myself a new tattoo and finally finished my faun. Moreover, I seem to have bought and played a lot of awesome games during the course of the year. This pleases me to no end. I'm aware I might be more than a bit late but I've mostly played and very much enjoyed Witcher, Portal, Psychonauts, Skyrim, Magicka and The Wolf Among Us. Old goodies.

On a sadder note I lost a most beloved friend during the summer of 2015. My dear old Torsten went to his final rest, 19 years old, blind but still king of the farm. My grumpy little angel.
RIP Turbo Torsten
In August, I visited my 10th Medieval Week and kind of went all in to make sure and have done those things that I usually don't do when I'm there. A lot of sitting around, laughing and drinking the nights away in good company.
And then I finally got to see Dylan Moran. The man is inexplicably amazing.

In 2015 I've read a few books that really left a lasting impression; The Lies of Locke Lamora by Scott Lynch was enchanting and I'm looking forward to reading the other books of the Gentlemen Bastards series. Lighthousekeeping by Jeanette Winterson is not what I usually take time to read but based on a friend's recommendation I had to give it a go and it turned out to be a total dream. I highly recommend it to everyone who appreciates the written word. Already, I'm planning a re-read some time in the spring. I wasn't as impressed with Glen Duncan's The Last Werewolf as I was with his book I, Lucifer. Too predictable I felt though I absolutely love urban fantasy.
On a whim I also decided to read The Princess Bride by William Goldman and recommend everyone that love the movie as much as I do to do so as well.

I think I've made some new friends this year that I'd love to hang out with some more. I might have made a few new enemies - this is expected. I gave less of a fuck about other people's opinions. I did travel a bit.
There might have been less hugging than I would have liked but hey, I doubt there's an amount of hugging big enough for me.

I have plans for 2016 and a great deal of hope. I don't know a lot of things for sure but I will be seeing Dara O'Briain's show Crowd Tickler in May and yet again I'm planning a little adventure out of the country.

So, in conclusion:

Dear 2015,
we will never see each other ever again. And I'm fine with that.