Revisiting my 90s

These are the kind of memories you have of the nineties if you, like me thought your older brother was the cooles and radest person in the world and you'd listen to EVERYTHING he listened to. I think the nineties where better for us lucky ones with older siblings to look up to and whom would scare the pants of anyone who dared bully their little sister. (There where a few bastard bullies since the nineties where a time of religious freedom, which in turn meant my parents where free to remove me from all the Christianity based lessons in school... Since being tall, shy and thin wasn't enough!)


Man-voice be damned, I sooo wanted to be her!





This was my hero when I was about ten-elevenish (before he got all weird and somewhat of a violent paedophile...) and this was my favourite song... "Spiritually raped" In hindsight and my limited grasp of the English language aside I might have felt this man and particularly this song understood my feelings towards religion, in my case, Jehovah Witnesses. I did feel spiritually raped. It sounds harsh, but involuntary religious upbringing of that magnitude is a form of mind-rape! I still get the cry/sweats every time my mum asks me if I want to come with them to a meeting...




I can't forget the other heroes of mine in the nineties. I feel a slight pattern of tom-boy girls... and Johnny Depp because he was soooooo dreamy!

Hare Krishna

Siren

Too lucky for my own face

In the past I have been reluctant to attempt to disprove karma, although I have always had my doubts towards the teachings of Carson Daly and his missionary whose Name Is Earl, but seriously karma...

I have been sneaking on the public transport/moving trash-heap of Oslo for about a month now, hearing tales of people getting caught sneaking all around me and yes I have had my share of flickering eye-movement, suspicious staring and boogie-woogeing libs, but I have not seen a single ticket checking dude or dudette.

Today however, I finally managed to locate the student office to pick up my semester card and took the time to buy the illustrious student card for public transportation. Thus I proudly stamped my card and stepped onto the tube as a good citizen paying her transportation dues.

About thirty seconds later I absent-mindedly step of the tube at Jernbanetorget with my mobile to my hear and what do I see?! Yes, it is a blue clad army of ticket inspectors scowling at me with their narrow inspector eyes smelling my surprise and guilt.

Sadly for them I whipped out my freshly purchased and stamped card with my best Mona Lisa expression, let them stare at it unbelievingly for a bit and then I triumphantly walked past them.

Karma, have you forgotten me or am I still feeling the good karma from my early refusals to knock on peoples doors as most children of Jehovah Witnesses are somewhat coerced to do?

Hare Krishna

Siren