Uden Dig (en alternativ version)

(Blog post in Danish - as it is a re-writing of a Danish song, so won't make much sense in English anyway. So international reader(s), please come back some other day :-)



Sommeren 2016 har været lidt mangelfuld på visse områder. Solskin og kys, for eksempel. En af min veninder bemærkede, at ikke alene føles det som om alting er i flux; mange af sommerens danske hits har også været sådan lidt i mol.  En anden veninde introducerede mig for Maja og De Sarte Sjæle ... og så begyndte jeg at tænke lidt. For det er en fin lille sang, men her - 25 år efter at Spice Girls slog igennem - er der generelt lidt langt til  "I'll tell you what I want, what I really really want" i mine højttalere pt.

Så jeg drak vin, og med lidt lyrisk inspiration og assistance fra min veninde endte vi med denne alternative udgave. Fordi, mænd. Vi kan jo godt Uden Dig. Vi vil muligvis helst MED Dig. Men vi kan godt Uden.

(Og til min seneste, hvis du meget mod forventning læser med - neeeej, den er ikke til/om/pga dig. Undtagen næst-sidste linje. Dén er.)

Så hermed, til fri afbenyttelse og fællessang. De originale tekster kan ses i videoen ovenfor, og her er den alternative. Og jeg håber det er okay med Maja.

Der er nye beskeder på min telefon
Den ringer men jeg gider ikke tale med nogen
Jeg vil bare sidde derhjemme og tænke på dig
Det hele er noget lort
Det hele er noget rod
Det hele flyder over i mit hoved
Nej vent lidt - det' OK - uden dig

Jeg skipper kuren og jeg dropper at æde skyr
Det' nemlig ligemeget hvad jeg så end gør
Snører sko, finder nøgle, slukker lys
Låser døren
Jeg er lige gået forbi din lejlighed
Det var okay i og for sig
Jeg har spildt alt for meget tid
Det' sgu fint nok uden dig
Jeg gik ned ad gader hvor vi har gået
Og haft det så sjovt du og jeg
Jeg spørger mig selv, går jeg glip af noget
Det bli'r heldigvis et nej

Hurra for min arrogance
Du fik jo verdens bedste chance
Men du viste dig at være et kiks
Jeg smiler bredere fra dag til dag
Jeg ved der ik' er noget nag tilbage
Nogle gange hjælper det at drikke vin

Jeg er kommet så utrolig langt videre
Mens du sidder og bli'r ældre og grimmere
Du har lang vej hjem
Og så det ikke engang hjem til MIG

Jeg vil gerne gå over til din lejlighed
Det' da okay i og for sig
Men der er ikke noget der
Jeg skal videre uden dig
Jeg går på de gader vi ik' har gået
Og ser på verden uden dig
Har Medina monstro fat i noget?
Musikken den er kun for mig
Jeg ta'r en taxa ind til Andys Bar
Og ser hvad København nu har
Der skal drik's mange mange flere drinks
Muligvis på Bobi Bar
Og tiden er gået
Og dagene er gode
Og jeg ved det ikke kan undgås
Pludselig står du der med en anden som så si'r
Øv, du er hende den seje 

Jeg ku' godt gå over til din lejlighed
Men hva' fa'en skulle jeg der
Der er så mange andre mænd
Så jeg tror bare jeg la'r være
Der ligger en verden for vores fødder
Den venter faktisk kun på mig
Jeg spø'r mig selv, hvad venter jeg på
Nu indta'r jeg den uden dig
Du må selv gå over til din lejlighed
Den er ikke noget for mig
Vi to var ikke spild af tid
Men jeg ka' sagtens uden dig

Finest moments (a selection)

My day got off to a brilliant start when, about 7 minutes into my working day, I managed to spill a glass of water all over my desk (for those of you who are wondering how much water an average drinking glass will hold, I'd say about a pint and a half).

Fortunately I'm a sloppy housekeeper, so I had a pile of unfolded laundry on the chair next to me and was thus able to mop it up without even having to leave my desk.  And to think I sometimes wonder why the laundry cycle seems never-ending.

Then I had to call a hotel where the receptionist spoke the most endearing slurvian imaginable. Endearing, but virtually incomprehensible, so when I mentioned that the arrival date on the booking I was calling about was to be changed to two days from now and he said, "yeah, it's sunny, right?" I was puzzled but ever so politely answered "yes, but also a bit windy."

He meant Sunday...

But we got there in the end, and I said thanks, and he said "hey, dimension".

Later in the day, a guy called XXX called to book some travel. There's more than one person by that name at his company, but what I said when doublechecking which one he was, was "there's more than one XXX in my life, you know".  Total silence at the other end of the phone. And then "hee hee hee....".   

It's now 930PM*.  I've just been to the shops - I've got some friends coming over tomorrow and they might appreciate being fed at some point.  I was wearing a pair of fairly loose cotton trousers that I haven't worn in a while, and when I came into the supermarket and put my phone, my housekeys, and my car keys in my pockets, my trousers graciously slid down and allowed me to flash my (not particularly sexy, unfortunately - had that but been the case) undies at a family of four plus two sniggering teenagers.

To combat the inadvertent weight loss, I have now consumed half the chocolate biscuits I had purchased for my friends kids....

*it was 9PM at time of writing. It's now 10:40. I've spent an hour on the phone with one of the coolest, arrogant as f, made-of-awesomest ladies I have the good fortune of knowing. Time well spent indeed 

And now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go drink some wine and start re-writing the lyrics to a Danish pop song.  That, amongst other things, was what came out of that phone call.

Merry weekend, folks!

Left luggage

It's always the little things. People in your life leave tiny imprints on it, and even if they leave, the marks are still there. Little things that, out of nowhere, will remind you of someone, sometimes someone you haven't thought of in years.

My best friend changed the way I prefer my "leverpostejmadder" (open sandwich with a sort of liver paté; very much a Danish thing). I now actually prefer them with tomato slices on top - before I became friends with her, it was always-always cucumber. (She also taught me that true love is best shown by making pancakes early in the morning)

An ex boyfriend inspired me to change from monthly to daily disposable contact lenses (and thus improved my life without even knowing it).  Another ex gifted me (not deliberately I'm sure) with a profound aversion to men who have nicknames for their member.  An unsolicited dick pic is one thing; actually being formally introduced to it is quite another. I mean, what are you supposed to do? Shake hands with it (how??) and say "pleased to meet you; I do look forward to working with you??"    Yet another ex left me with an expensive taste in alcohol and a slightly more adventurous palate (though nothing beats the guy who treated me to my first taste of frogs legs, steak tartare, and escargots, all in one hedonistic weekend).   And for years, I would habitually buy a certain kind of chocolate whenever I saw it on sale, only later to wonder why on earth I'd done that when I didn't even like it.

You may not even notice the subtle ways in which people influence you. And you can't really get rid of the memories, even if you may want to.  You can purge your life of the physical evidence - stuffing old pictures into a drawer, deleting old e-mails (or filing them away so efficiently you'll never find them again), looking at an old poster and then deciding to leave it up because, sod it, you like it more than you miss him. You go through all the motions, and you feel better for it, and then a tiny thing - something you didn't even share, but maybe saw in a shop and thought he might like - will send you reeling.

I once had a love ring (you might have called it an engagement ring, but that would imply a certain question having been asked, and yes having been the answer, and we never got quite that far). I wore it on the ring finger on my left hand. I still have the ring stashed away somewhere, in a place so secret even I cannot find it. And to this day, whenever I think about a love that didn't last, I have a dull ache in my left ring finger. Like a phantom pain in a lost limb, except it isn't the limb that is missing. 

The Ripple effect- amusing small minds since 2004

The first time I tried a sooperdooper skin-ripplingly fast hand dryer was at Los Angeles Union Station in 2004 (I wasn't there to catch a train, I just wanted to see the station. Because I'm like that.)

Fast forward eleven years and I'm equally delighted. I do apologise to the people who were queuing to use the bathroom after me. Time flies when you're having fun (it sure doesn't take much :-)

I'll let you know when I'm all grown up. Best not to hold your breath...