....and moi who got so exited about the shot I had to place my dumb shadow right between them.

I've had a thing about Atlanta for quite a while now, surfing every site about the place to figure out how it might be to live there, and as luck has it I know Brandon one of the School of Humans founders, his missus Trudy and their adorable baby girl @carysbarr who treated me to lunch in little five point during my long Atlanta layover. The hood was exactly as I had pictured it, but with better vintage stores (I almost scored an Elvira-dress, the only thing that stopped me was my sensible side knowing that I seldom get to prance around all decked out in rhinestone-covered gala dresses), and now I'm totally sold on the place and want to live there. I even got to peek at Brandon's house which is adorable and has a pink flamingo in the garden, how awesome is that? Now that Perle has learned to eat american food (on our Boston trip she basically survived on fruit alone), even she agrees: "Lets move here, it's summer all the time!"

I wish I had stayed longer actually, the south has a special place in my heart and Georgia works for me.

Pretty much as soon as pleaserobme.com appeared it was tweeted around like wildfire (and blogged a lot) by everyone who saw it and, apparently, had never thought of this angle before. Announcing that you're not at home might be as effective of an invitation to house-robbery as having teenagers brag about their planned vacation in Thailand. That is if you leave your home announcing it by checking in at airports and presumably live alone, with your house unguarded.
The other worry about these "stalker helper" programs is of course that it announces where you are to anyone who might want to follow you around (I've been trying to freak people out by gowallastalking them, but so far only sofoe seemed to notice that I wasn't in the venue at the time. Well done sistah!)

So, just to show that these programs can give you equally false alibis of location as truthful ones, I decided to do a very quick world tour in 4square, each check-in appearing on "pleaserobme" and even prompting the pleaserobme tweeter to send a note of concern about me announcing my supposed whereabouts. I checked in at the university in Paris, the Ritz-Carlton in Boston, at Microsoft, Cape Town, on a wee road in Barrow, Alaska, at the Soup Stock in Tokyo, Japan, at 7-eleven in Bangkok, Thailand, a pub in Singapore, Radiotjänst, Kiruna, Noah's bagels in San Francisco, a couch in Portland, Oregon in quick succession. Boyah.

In 4square right now I'm in Ushuaia, Argentina. My cat knows this is not true.

Update, did a little country-hopping in Gowalla too, so that they don't feel left out. Images after the jump.

Sure, I sit funny, often pulling my legs up in the chair or spending hours in the lotus position. Perhaps it's a remnant of instinctive knowledge from way back in time when our forefathers were still hanging out in trees that makes me pull my legs up from the floor. It gets funnier when I have a cat, who sincerely believes that I have my knee up just so that he can have a high place to perch. Cats love high perch places, it's their instinctive knowledge from living in the wild to stay off the ground and have a good view. So here we are, in front of a computer, with me giggling at our respective DNA preprogramming.

Be honest now, I have a thing for hats but I can't seem to pull off the girly-classic beret, sequined or not. I can pull off ridiculous pillbox hats, oversized & 1960-fied newsboy caps, the trilby, the pork pie, the Selentino Kojak, the top hat, the derby and even a fedora, and have a fine collection of these. But the soft and girly beret? Not sure about this, Garbo knew how to do it, and men in stiff green ones look bad-ass, but not I. Mental note: stop buying berets.

* this post brought to you by a sudden urge to mock "fashion blogs".

Advertising alert! This post is stealthy advertising for photographer Miklas Njor (in Copenhagen). So there.

I changed my Twitter-avatar photo yesterday, and am still getting compliments that it's a nice photograph.

So to return the favor done to me by Miklas, who left his desk for a moment in order to photograph me with the purse I got from BrandflakesforBreakfast for helping to babysit their blog, I hereby announce that Miklas Njor is really good at taking portraits.

He so is. I'm telling ya! He simply said "stand over there, hold the purse" and snapped away (before I even had time to pose - which is aother good thing) and voila, a nice shot with nice light. I swear you can give him a tin-teacan with a pinhole and photopaper in it and he'll somehow get a nice shot out of it. Bastard. (yes, I'm really envious of his talent actually, can you tell?)

I am related to super pedantic clean people who comb the tassles of their rugs and take each crystal off the chandelier for cleaning, by hand every year or so. I'm also super lazy and follow my mothers mantra det man inte har i kroppen får man ha i knoppen (what you lack in muscle you make up with brainpower - but it rhymes so much better Swedish.)

So I have this mastodont cleaning issue. a very dusty, non sparkly chandelier. Oh dear.

I also have tap water, concentrated lemon juice, and fancy white vinegar (fancy meaning 'the good old brand' and not cheapest stuff in the store.) We will mix these ingredients approx 20% vingear 10% lemon juice and the rest water in an old cleaned up spray bottle and get to work. Attack it from the bottom up! I know, one should cover the bulbs with plastic bags but did I mention that I'm lazy? I just don't go there with the spray (besides, mine point down, not up).

See these drops? Yes that's the grime and dirt sliding right off it. If you have a smaller chandelier than I have, you could hang an umbrella upside down underneath it to catch all the drops. I didn't dare because my chandelier looks like it wants to take the ceiling down with it any day now.

.. and a bunch of newspapers catch the drops of grime (there's a plastic cover underneath to protect the table as well).

So, nyah, to those ladies before me who spent hours polishing their crystal, I do this in record time. I don't tempt faith, no lighting of the chandelier for at least two hours after it looks dry. I've lit candles tonight and it looks sparkly, oh so sparkly.

Did you hear about the twitter-tempest in a teapot this weekend involving Motrin and mommybloggers? Seems Motrins latest ad campaignreleased on Saturday was too snarky for some who reckoned they were bashing "babywearing" moms causing a social media fail whale where a whole bunch of moms tweeted #motrinmoms to express their dislike in a trackable way, and in the end someone even posted a youtube video with a bunch of tweets in it see it here.
Motrin removed the ad. Even fellow Swede Kullin had to throw two öre in.

Now, I might be getting old or something but I couldn't muster up enough outrage to even care about that ad. That kinetic typography fad has been in everything from car ads to Obama ads by now and was cool *five years ago*(OK, so there's my art director outrage) but jumped the shark with bells on when Obama used in "vote for hope". Besides, there are much cooler ways of doing it - behold Typographics. Or Great scenes from TV and Film using only typography. Saul Bass' kinetic typography in North by Northwest is still numero uno in the flying fonts game. Are we done yet?

So here's me and Perle, in the hand-me-down family-heirloom Baby Björn that carried three other babies before her. You'll never catch me wearing my offspring in a sling though - and that's probably where the Motrin ad went wrong - it forgot nuances. It also forgot to mention anything about "safe to take when nursing" which pretty much screams "has no idea what is on target moms top of mind". Or maybe it just screams "not talking to me", which is why it failed to score any outrage because they clearly weren't talking to me. I'm of the old-school common sense logic breed: Your high heels hurt? Take the heels off. Baby sling putting a strain on left shoulder? Quit using it that way. Not a fan of the "we have a pill for that" school of thought. I bet they even have pills for that! They're called anti-pillefreifandom® and can not be mixed with alcohol.

Image reposted from the art of looking cool Sunday, June 18, 2006.

Poolparty with Sunshine Rabbits rockin' out to "The colour of the fur" - Sunday september 7 in a pool in Höllviken.

The email inviting us was pretty straightforward: "Get dressed up in gear that you may swim in. Crazy shit. Bear suits! Platform shoes!" So we did, and there was silver platform shoes represented, as well as neon pink underwear and day-glo orange nailpolish, eighties sunglasses, two-toned suits made from two suits, potato sack-outfits, glittering blue turbans and men in dresses.

On the count of three, we all had to hop into the pool and rock out. Which we did. High energy hop-hop-hop bunnies! Raah! Holy cow, it was actually quite cold.

I even got Perle - decked out in her fave Hello Kitty suit of course - to join in for a bit. Our over-energetic splashing will end up in the video for Sunshine Rabbits - but don't count on seeing me much, I got way to into it and kept twirling around with my back to the camera. ;)

After everyone was out, I stayed in the cold water to swirl my wee princess around in a giant swan. She dug that. I think she's contemplating world domination here. "No Mr Bond, I expect you to die!"

Finally, there's an article in Dagens Industri about Adland. I'd prefer it to be for a good news reason, rather than the sad 'chinagate' affair.

For the record, the photographers name is Miklas Njor - not Miklas Mjor! Also, few people will spot that I'm totally mocking the usual pink paper shots in this photo - I'm wearing my "ties suck" written in binary tie. Tee hee hee.

edit: also posted on adland: Adland is in Dagens Industri today.

This weekend we all took a little time off, and our wee family headed out to visit cousins and friends to frolic on beaches in Denmark. I turned off my computer, and Miklas prepared all the doors with oil before putting his tools down and coming with us. Our first time off since forever - just relaxing and reloading batteries.

Monday when he returned to work on the doors he finds that they are thrown about in the basement and all his tools are missing. Cordless electric drills, two different types of electric sanders (one round, and one for corners), his measuring tools, his chisel, his hammer. He can't do any work now since all the vital tools are missing, and we seriously can not afford new ones.

For a moment we think that someone has simply borrowed it. When our neighbor renovated their apartment, their hired handymen from Poland had borrowed a few items as per the neighbors instructions - without telling Miklas that they had. This annoyed Miklas, and I'm kicking myself for not telling him to always bring his tools in the house after that - but hindsight and twenty twenty you know. We're still hoping that someone simply borrowed them - or better yet it's a theif with a conscience - who will give us our tools back because honestly dear theif, we need them pretty damn bad.

Libresse says they are trying to make your period happier, with design. If that is the case please drop the bloody (pun!) sarcasm, thanks.

Jag försöker lära Perle att hojta "DÅLIG REKLAM" när hon ser sådan. Hon gör det så fort den där larviga Lambi-tösen dyker upp i rutan. Men hur jag än förklarade att ordlekar inte är bra, tyckte Perle att den här grisen var söt och vinkade till den. "Fin ko" sa hon.

Yet I've decided to do this to my office walls.

What on earth am I thinking, you might say, well the carpet in the matching deep grape purple is a clue. Momma has a plan mates. I'll show you when it's done, kay?