African Woman, Learning to Live a Balanced Life, Life Lessons, Me sporty me, Rantics

Not all bus drivers were abused as children; apparently

A few weeks ago, maybe months even, I wrote about the bus driver who drove away from me when I was so close, so so close, I thought he must have been mis-handled as a child; which may have damaged his sense of empathy (or sympathy).

Unfortunate what our upbringing can do to us.

Today, something quite the opposite of the experience above happened to me; which means that I can disapprove my previous thesis.

Yes I can. I totally can. It’s fantastic. It’s great.

Counter Thesis: There exists bus drivers who were loved and nurtured as babies; and are therefore friendly, well adjusted, lovely people. These great servants of the people do actually step on the breaks, smile and wait for you. They smile. Yes they do.

Proof: This morning, the bus number 526 was almost driving off the bus stop when I, in my regular “just a few seconds late” tempo, came running, huffing & puffing. He saw me, literally stepped on the breaks and waited for me to huff & puff into the bus.

“good morning!!” he said, all happy

“huff & puff. wheeze. cough. good morning to you too!” I said in surprise

“It is a new day, with new challenges and surprises!” he keeps on

“wheeze. cough. sure is. sure is. A great day. Fantastic day” I say looking closely at to him to make sure that he is OK

That all the horses are home. That all the nuts are screwed on right. That he isn’t off his hook.

My “all the nuts are screwed on right” radar lights green. Seems a regular chap to me. In a good mood and kind to the core.

“Have a nice day!” he says when I got off the bus at Odenplan

Conclusion: There exists bus drivers who were not abused or neglected as children. Thank heavens for small mercies.

And I really did have a very nice day.

African Woman, Life Lessons, Me sporty me, Weight Loss

What’s your secret to…

I met some acquittances last evening. Quite fun and nice to re-connect with people who knew me during some of the most difficult months of my life. We met 10 years ago when we first moved to Sweden. Starting a new life in a new country is a journey of faith and strength. We have kept contact, the group that went to the same Swedish for Immigrants  class and have met sporadically every year. In these 10 years, some have married, those who were married have divorced. Some have acquired children while others have lost children. Some have found jobs, lost jobs, found new jobs. Some have re-married. Some have broken up with their off:s and found new bff:s. Basically lots has happened.

The elephant in the room of every 10 year relationship is the changes that have occurred without invitation. For example, wrinkles & the weight. Most people get wrinkles and add some weight during a 10 year period. We cannot pretend otherwise. I was too thin 10 years ago in my early 20s. Everyone I met, both men and women wanted me to eat some more. My mother wondered every week if I was eating. My boyfriend, soon to be ex-boyfriend, said my hip bone was making holes in him. You can imagine how that made me feel. The hole making machine? A human paper punch? Bones?

I have added some kilos since then, thank the gods of mt. Kenya for the booty! And when the ex-boyfriend saw me 1 year ago, he checked me up. Surely checking whether the bony hips were gone. CurvyI like all body shapes and sizes. I don’t judge. I am brought up by African women who don’t feel sexy until they have a good ass to shake in your face!

Back to last night, one of my aqquittances had added a few kilos, to a body that was not bony to begin with. She looks fabulous in my un-appreciated opinion. I said so anyways. But as we all know, out opinions don’t count when others think they are fat/big or un-beautiful. She just went ahead to ignore me and asked “what is your secret for keeping sooo trim/trained?”

I flush with anger or irritation every time people ask “what’s your secret?” For anything. Because there are very few secrets out there and these secrets sure as hell don’t have to do with weight loss. We have secrets about our sex lives. Nobody at dinner with acquittances says “I regret breaking up with my ex, not because I want him, not really, because he met a hotter younger chic” or “I almost almost got raped by a cousin and I think he raped his sister”. Nobody says these things because they are secrets. Our secrets.

How to loose weight is not a secret. Not anyone’s secret. Oprah has spoken about loosing and maintaining weight for God’s sake! That removes it from the list of secrets people keep. If you really don’t like your weight, get over your 1920s attitude (before Jane Fonda?) and do something!

The whole list of what to dos is on the internet! Not one whole list, several whole lists! One for white people, one for black people, one for men, one for women, one for young ones, another for old. Different places, I admit, and different lists, but it’s all there! If all the lists on the internet don’t help you, remember the simple ones from your grandmother.

  1. Eat right. Your plate should have some vitamins on it. Some carbohydrates (there are good carbohydrates and bad carbohydrates…google that shit!!) and some mamambogaproteins. Fibre is good for your bowels but if you have greens and roots at every meal, you are set for life! Its not even fucking expensive! Your plate should also have some space for the food to breath. A piece of meat on top of a pile of mashed potatoes and some brocolli murdered under the potatoes looks like
    pig food. No proud food wants to feel like pig food. An elegant cow or a young horny ox/bull was murdered for your meal. Show some respect! A brocolli plant was hoping to flower and reproduce some other small beautiful broccolis. It was massacred for you. Look at the broccoli! Speak to it. Show broccoli some pleasure in eating it. Enjoy food esthetically, the colours, the shapes, it helps. Eat fucking slowly! Enjoy the taste of what you eat.
  2. Eat just enough.  Too much of anything is bad for you is a quote all children heard at some point right?! And uou don’t even need to count the f*#€^ng calories, if that complicates things for you. Stop eating when you feel full. If you eat slowly, your stomach lets you know when you are full. If you eat fast, your stomach has no chance to feel full before you’ve eaten too much. Didn’t any adult person tell you this when you were a child? It is not rocket science so get on with it!
  3. Do some exercise that takes away the extras you got for dessert. We all take some extra. Most of us love food and dessert. I love a glas of wine on top of it. It piles up. I take a short run, or a long walk, or go out dancing. Or dance at home, goofy dance around the apartment with JK. Play badminton or walk the stairs wherever you see them.
  4. Sleep just enough. Go back to the too much of anything quote in your head as often as you can. Sleep helps with metabolism but sleep doesn’t consume calories. Find some balance and remember, God does miracles but the miracles don’t really come looking for you in bed. Usually you have to make the effort to kneel and pray or take a walk to church.

So please, if you feel that you need to loose weight, and want to involve me in it, don’t play dumb. As if you don’t know the first thing about it. Or as if I would have some secret that is hidden from others.

Just so you know, the secrets I keep would make you eat chocolate, eat ice cream, drink that bottle of wine you’ve been saving for the day you hit your dream figure, crawl into a ball, roll to the phone, ring your mommy & cry in a pityful voice “mommy, I don’t want to be friends with her. She’s baaad.”

African Woman, Life Lessons, Me sporty me

Linnie: Candy crash champion and all that!

I am playing Candy crash like I never played anything before! My games of choice were tetris and  super mario brothers. Six months ago, a friend introduced me to Candy crash and I was on fire! Well not really.

Some levels take me 2 weeks to get through. I dont buy any lives and I dont borrow from friends either. Not yet but who knows how long I can hold out??! So I struggle through end of 5 lives, 72hr waits, nuts and grapes that refuse to drop aaaallll the way etc But the feeling when candy crashes down with Sugar Crash flashing is like…like…like…oooohhh the feeling I get when I get hot water on my skin during my beloved morning shower. Or when my little brother laughs. Or when I get to bed after a 12hr flight where my in flight seatmate had a child/baby with them.

We have always been on friendly terms, my phone and I. Except when it gets it in its smart head to auto-correct, wrongly. Now I am on loggerheads with my phone because of battery life. Iphone has never been in the “best battery life” category. Or? I don’t need to be sued for this. Still… Candy crash, Tetris, Whatsapp, Facebook, Bukowskis auction, Outlook, Yahoo mail, Gmail, Ted talks, Spotify, selfies etc leaves my lovely totally shaken within a couple hours.

Then, on level 123 of Candy crash, the leader board scroll on to nr.1. Number freaking 1!!!! And to make things worse, on level 125 Leader board scrolls to nr.2. This is addictive stuff dear child. Tread carefully. Play play play play until you are nr.1 again is all I can think of. Dancing round the apartment singing amgoodamgoodamgood amgood

I am Linnie in Candy crash. Find me and share a life!


The other half joins in in one of my Iamgoodamgoodamgoodamgood… amgood… He says “ooohhh honeyyousogood!!. Duktig älskling! Are you nr.1 of the whole world or just the neighbourhood housewives and idlers??”

That fixes me for a week.
His voice is all honey and soft as one who is  giving compliments.

Btw, is the leader board based on statistics from a global level or just neighbouring housewives and idlers??!! Why do I even care? I am number 1 at something.