. . . Tupperware Cities . . .

Saturday, April 30

 

Vacuum commercials, nature documentaries....why is it that the British accent always knows best?

My cousin Mindy had her baby Thursday. She named it John David. How much more fucking boring could a name be? I'm guess not much at all. BOOOOORING! If for some reason I have a child/children I have the names already picked out. There are specific reason why, but you'd have to ask me or Steve what they are: boy: Calvin Machete, girl: Velouria....which sucks because people will spell it wrong and/or call her "Vel". I hate abbreviations of first names.

I don't want to work tonight. Sometimes I'd like to quit my second job, but SHIT the paychecks alone pay for my student loan payments plus leftovers... Can't complain really. It's a super retardedly easy job.

Lynnette 2:20 PM

Thursday, April 28

 

On a break. I hate being an office monkey but I make good money. Why does that golden carrot always look so damn good? Oh yeah, because I get to buy shit I want.

Lynnette 10:08 AM

Wednesday, April 27

 

I'm at work an hour early. Fucking _neat_! Our car is having the swing bar replaced on the left side and yeah.. now I'm carless. I'll be walking to my second job tonight (so no Ed Wood for you, Donald) and the wind chill is still below freezing. What the hell is WRONG with this state? When is Spring? Shit, I forgot, there is no Spring in Minnesota. It's just ugly and cold out until it gets to around 60 every day and then it's pleasant. The pleasantness lasts for two full months if we're lucky and then it's ugly and cold again.

Oh my goodness the fabulous news: I bought my first pair of heels yesterday. Mind you they're not your ordinary, average heels. After all, am I your ordinary, average gal? I didn't think so. Here they are, dig it:

Yeah, they're great. Expensive, but great. This is how great they were: when the queer boy was typing my name into the computer for my purchase ticket, I didn't correct him when he spelled my name with one "N". Now THAT is a great pair of shoes.

Lynnette 8:05 AM

Tuesday, April 26

 

Blue, Nudity, Realizations of my age...

I'm never amazed when I leave the house and find myself dressed head-to-toe in blue. Today I'm wearing blue socks, blue jeans, a blue shell, blue cardigan and a blue jacket cuz it's this retarded Spring cold outdoors. Blue. Oh yes, and blue underwear. I don't own a blue bra, or I'm sure I'd be wearing that as well. It's just that statistically the number of blue items I wear, this happens often....several times a week. Different shades of blue mind you....

I'm also never amazed that I don't wear clothes at home. I mean when it's fucking cold outside I have to put on clothes basically because of the sheer survival factor. Otherwise I hate wearing clothes. I hate them. I think if I got the guts I'd probably be a nudist... maybe someday I'll go on vacation to a nudist resort. That would be neat. Cuz ya know what, I dig my body. I have a nice body, and my boyfriend thinks it's fantastic... so hey.. win-win my friends, it's win-win.

I'm also learning SQL at work. It's dull and I find it completely USELESS in my daily life. I guess it's just another line on my resume.

Bored, as per the norm.

Steve also pointed out something scary this morning: there are children in high school (yes, they are children, still) who are listening to Nirvana (as in Cobain & co.) who think it's "classic rock". When I listened to Pink Floyd in high school, Dark Side of the Moon had been released on 15 years prior. The Wall came out four years after that album. So when Nevermind came out in 1991, kids who are listening to it now.... fuck. When did I get to be this ... distanced from my past? It's just like walking into Bizarro world....but there isn't an evil Superman.

Lynnette 11:54 AM

Monday, April 25

 

DREAM: Iceland, Unwound opening for the Pixies...

Let's see... I'm backtracking here so I'm trying to remember what night I had these dreams...Friday night it must have been. So Friday, hehe, I dreamt that I was back in Iceland. I dream of this place quite often. Anyhoo, in my dream I was wandering around Reykjavik, the capital, with my boyfriend Steve. There was snow on the ground but only within a certain parameter of the city; once you stepped some distance away from the center of the city the snow immediately ceased to exist. Past the snow line we found a cliff full of moss that led to a lower cliff and a waterfall. It was a bit slippery so we didn't get too close to the side. I'm probably dreaming about this type of stuff because of my visit to Gulfoss; fucking beautiful and dangerous... oh yeah! Later in the dream Steve was busy so I ended up hanging out on some dock on the ocean (still in Reykjavik, mind you); the dock was free-floating in the water, and made of slats of dark wood. As I peered over the edge of the platform, into the water, I could see sharks swarming. I wasn't afraid, it was just a fact: there were sharks out and about in the water. I called my friend Jason to see if he wanted to go to a show that night; Unwound was opening for the Pixies. (Yeah I know, total "cream dream" right? On a side note: I do not have any friends named Jason, so this is apparently a name chosen arbitrarily by my subconscious.) The doors opened at 6pm, the show began at 7. I had never been to Jason's house, he was only a coworker of mine at the time, so I had to get directions from Mapquest. For some reason either his address was incorrect, or my computer was slow, but I started worrying that I would miss Unwound. Yeah, so that was that dream.

DREAM: Candice Fryda that bitch who lives on an island

Last night I dreamt that Steve and I were going to visit my friend Candice. In my dream she lived on an island and owned her own yacht. It wasn't that she was wealthy in my dream, it was just her most practical form of transportation. And so, our plane landed and we gave Candice a call to let her know that we had arrived. There weren't any people out, but it seemed normal; not abandoned, just sparse. Steve and I stood on the shore waiting for our "Fryda taxi", which did eventually come whipping around the corner at an incredible speed. We boarded the yacht (you board planes, do you board boats?) and Candice took off, again full throttle (she drives fast in my dreams). We arrived at her apartment, which was encapsulated in this very tall, very plain looking modular building that overlooked the sea. Her space alone was a studio apartment, but somehow we managed to all fit.

Lynnette 8:38 AM

Wednesday, April 20

 

The day before I turned 30 I decided to become a pirate...

No joke. I had a conversation with my friend Candice about it over email that went a little something like this....

ME: yar!! did i tell you i'm going to become a pirate?? would you like to come aboard and be my matey? arrrr!! you can be my matey with the parrot on her shoulder. would you prefer an eye patch or a wooden leg? i only have one of each so we have to divvy them up amongst ourselves.

CANDICE: i want an eye patch w/ a pearl like one eyed willy

ME: Okay. eye patch it is... you are the one-eyed wench Fryda first mate and I am the Dread Pirate Bender and I have a wooden leg.

CANDICE: dude.. im sorry but i have TOTAL visual of this and it is HILARIOUS!

ME: dude. i'm serious i'm gonna be a pirate. no joke. do you think you could learn to only look around with one eye...?? ithink it's a small price to pay for being a fellow pirate. after all i have to hobble around on my one good leg!! that bum wooden leg never treats me well..

CANDICE: IM PICTUREING HATS WITH FEATHERS AND FLOWY BLOUSYS AND VELVETY COATS AND BEARDs!

So that's sort of how it went down. The hard part is actually obtaining a boat. If I were already a pirate I would commandeer someone else's boat, but I think if you start of being a pirate when you're born a landlubber, you have to like earn or buy your first boat. I suspect that my SCUBA skills will come in handy when we're out gallivanting on the high seas. Gallivanting.... maybe I should try something other than gallivanting if I'm going to be a pirate. Maybe rampaging is more appropriate. But "rampaging" makes me think of over-sized lizards and wolves and apes crawling up the sides of buildings, punching street cars and eating people and turkeys out of high-rise windows. At any rate that's my plan: the day before I turned 30 I decided to become a pirate.

Lynnette 2:49 PM

 

This man is 30 today!!!!

I also went shopping for my mom's birthday (which was yesterday) and ended up getting myself a pair of new shoes for my birthday (which is tomorrow). Now I have them on at work and ya know what??? I don't like clogs. They are going back, and I'm going to buy myself another pair of Birkenstocks. If I'm spending over 100 bucks for shoes they have to fucking RULE!! These clogs do not rule on my skinny, bony-ass feet.

BUT I did buy a pair of navy blue Crocs (those weirdo rubber sandals that float) for SCUBA trips and jaunts to the beach and other water-surrounded areas such as lakes and large puddles. I am the best, I am only 29 for one more day. Fucking neat. Is it too late to start wearing SPF? Where's that PhD I was supposed to have? Why am I not living in Spain, working for the United Nations or owning a condo in NYC? Oh yeah... Cuz I did other stuff. Hmm. That's cool I suppose.

Lynnette 9:00 AM

Tuesday, April 19

 

What I ate today for Breffass:
cup of coffee
one packet of instant oatmeal blueberry flavor
6 oz. yogurt, pear/vanilla flavor
cup of coffee (yeah shut up i love my coffee)
lots of water

What I ate today for "11am Lunch":
Amy's organic paneer something-er-other Indian meal
1 banana
a Pepsi (hey, it was free)
lots of water

What I ate today for my "3pm Lunch"
1 salad with spinach, peas, bean sprouts, shredded cheese, sunflower seeds, carrots, green peppers, tomatoes, pepper, vinegar and a dash of oil
one Silk individual chocolate soy milk cuz soy RULES!
more freakin water

What I predict I'll have for the rest of the day:
free samples of bullshit, wasted drinks I make at the cafe tonight
hopefully no more caffeine
a banana
6 oz yogurt.
hmmmm...........

I am bored at work.

Lynnette 3:18 PM

 

I have to get this negative Nancy shit out of my system NOW before my day begins: There's one really awful thing about working in a building full of psychologists and general mental health fuckers: in the morning, while you're trying to get your coffee they try to analyze you. If you're in a bad mood they'll come over and start saying shit like, "I wondered what was on your mind, your brow is very furrowed, blah blah blah." I was completely NOT in the mood for it this morning so some fucker in the break room who cut me off at the coffee pot was apologizing (dude, why apologize, get your coffee and get the fuck out of the way). In the middle of his bullshit apology I just looked him in the eye and said frankly, "I'm in a very bad mood this morning, please do not talk to me, I really need my space." His reply: "Wow." Yeah dude, fuck off, I have my own therapist. Now, I can get on with my life... aaahh..

Birthday party and DREAM: Sigur Ros at the Holiday Inn...

Last night Steve and I went to his brother's house for our birthday "bash". Since it was a family function it wouldn't qualify as an actual "bash", but there was free food, booze and gifts, so maybe it would. I got $75 bucks, some gift cards to Best Buy and Arrested Development Season One on DVD. Sweet!! Oh yeah and a mini/portable grill....I'll probably never use it. Since we were celebrating three birthdays there were two cakes (well one cake, one cheesecake because I don't like cake) and two lovely renditions of "Happy Birthday". I always sing the "Happy Birthday to you, you live in a zoo..." version... it's a classic and hardly anyone notices. I still have no idea what I'm getting Steve for his birthday tomorrow. Shit.

I also noticed lately that my arms have been hurting. Not painful, just minor aches now and again. So I'm grabbing my bicep last night trying to massage out the pain, and I realized that I have muscles in my upper arms! I was taken aback and tried to think if I had been sleepwalking down to the gym and lifting weights, but then realized it was probably the trays of dishes that I move around at the cafe at night. You see, it's sort of odd but everyone in the cafe seems to find their own niche. Shannon is the Cup Queen. If you work with Shannon the stacks of to-go cups will reach for the ceiling, and you'll never want for a cardboard sleeve. When Donald and I work together I think there's a bit of a pissing contest to see who does the dishes. Primarily I think it's because we both prefer to hide in the back room and clean shit up, than talk to the customers...but I could be wrong. Perception is subjective. Then there's Jamie who is like the Cafe Supergirl. She rocks, and does everything to the book. But yeah, I have muscles from working in a cafe. Steve calls them my "Vanilla Bullshit Muscles". I like 'em a lot. It sort of makes me feel like less of a weenie.

So now I've waited several hours since waking up to write down my dream and I've forgotten it. That negativity I ate off that fucker John S. in the lunch room sort of pushed it out of my mind. Now all I really remember is going to see Sigur Ros play at the ballroom (go figure) of a Holiday Inn. After the show some friends and I went down to the lobby to buy shirts; I was eyeballing a light pink shirt with a large KISS iron-on across the front.

Lynnette 9:39 AM

Monday, April 18

 

Where's the love, man, where's the love? I am so fucking bored at work. Fucking BORED!! My mouse started acting all weird today and jumping all over the screen when I didn't want it to, and resting motionless when I need it to move around. So I replaced my mouse pad with a vcr tape I had in my desk. Why do I have a vcr tape in my desk? I dunno, but I have three: Eraserhead (the David Lynch headache/masterpiece, depending on your mood), The Elephant Man (the David Lynch masterpiece....'nuff said) and a New Kids on the Block video called "Hangin' Tough". Oddly enough the NKOTB tape isn't mine, I swear. I'll be the first to admit that I went to an NKOTB concert when I was 14. Even at the time I was embarrassed, but being embarrassed and having the other kids make fun of me, never really made me stop doing stuff, I was just aware of how they thought of me. So, I was talking about the New Kids with this guy that used to work here and he said he used to love them and collected all this memorabilia and junk, and would I like to borrow the tape? Shit yeah. Then he quit and I never had a chance to give it back to him.

Also in my desk is a book on how to buy your first home, two diving magazines, about 25 cds, 9 plastic grocery bags, a tin of tea bags (not matching the original tin), a ziplock bag with emergency coffee grounds (which I share on occassion), a bag of roasted almonds, a half empty box of tampons which also holds my toothbrush and toothpaste (some people might be disgusted by this; dudes they are unused tampons, get over it), hand lotion, 3 packets of instant oatmeal (blueberry flavor), 12 packs of Trident gum (7 blue, 5 green), a barrel of monkeys (no joke, the barrel is about an inch high), 7 AA batteries, and my portable cd player.

Lynnette 3:00 PM

 

DREAM: Moving to Florida...

So I had a dream last night that Steve and I moved to Florida and moved into this house/apartment/town home type of thing. It was in an urban area of some town. The first day we were unpacking boxes when we heard the doorbell ring. Upon answering the door I found three guys wanting to know where Ice Cube was; apparently he was the previous tenant. I explained that we lived here now, but they still wanted to come inside and look for some of Cube's things. I figured it was cool and let them in. As they started up the stairs one of them touched my ass and then as I turned around to glare at him, his had brushed my tit. I screamed at the top of my lungs, "GET THE FUCK OUTTA MY HOUSE MUTHAFUCKER!!", and kicked all three of them down the stairs and out the door. Nobody touches Nettie without permission. Nobody. Fuck that shit. Later on that same day the doorbell rang again and it was our neighbors; three women named Giselle, Bree, and Kay. Now I'm a big believer in Jung's psychology of dreams and I know that "Kay" is my step aunt in Tacoma who I have been emailing lately, "Bree" is a character from a show called Desperate Housewives" that people at my office won't shut the fuck up about, and "Giselle" I'm assuming is the supermodel but I haven't read anything or seen anything about her lately, so it's probably layover from other day. Anyhoo... Kay was the only cool one and rode bikes with Steve and I downtown. The other two were fucking annoying tanned bitches who hung out in bikinis and wouldn't do any yard work.

It was a dumb dream, but hey the lightning/thunder storms woke me up around 3am, and I forgot most of it. Please forgive.

Lynnette 8:39 AM

Friday, April 15

 

The Bird is the Most Popular Finger...

Wednesday night Steve and I went to see Shellac at First Avenue. Needless to say it was fantastic. Steve Albini's jeans looked like they were spray painted onto his legs, but the fact that he's a skinny mutherfucker does nothing but emphasize the tightness of the denim. haha. It was the original trio, of course. Steve saw a Shellac side project (Brick Layer Cake, which sucks) so he wasn't thrown by the drummer's looks. The only way I can describe what he looked like is if you have seen the movie "The Dark Crystal". He looks exactly, and I mean exactly like a 6 feet tall version of the puppets; straight, black shaggy hair with huge ears that point out to the sides. In between songs the bass player directed Q & A session with the crowd. He would begin with, "Does anyone have any questions?" and then point to someone with their hand waving in the air and yell, "You!....What?" Some of the more audible questions were what the band's sexual preference is ("Hetero, next question.") and whether or not Steve Albini would set [person asking question] on fire. ("Yes, Steve would most definitely want to set you on fire, next question please.")

I forgot ear plugs, which was a bit painful at the end of the night, but the fact that it is now a non-smoking venue more than made up for it. Smoking bans RULE!!

Lynnette 10:54 AM

Wednesday, April 13

 

I was actually told by our supply department that my department is using "excessive amounts of toner". I was then asked if I could print double-sided to save toner.


THINK ABOUT WHAT THEY ARE ASKING OF ME. Print double-sided to save toner.

Same toner, less paper. F*CKING idiots.

Lynnette 9:24 AM

 

I want to quit my job. However, I find myself to be a responsible adult I won't allow myself to make an irreversible decision without having another option ready and waiting. At this point we may move out of the state (maybe) so it seems like a waste of time to seek out other employment. Just ridiculous.

So yesterday I went to a party at a coworkers house. Shannon, this chick I work with at the cafe, was cool enough to have a little soiree aptly titled the "Napoleon Dynamite BBQ". What ended up happening was that it became too cold for grilling, and everyone had already seen the movie before the party (and some people weren't too fond of it). All in all it was a pretty decent time; who can scoff at free pizza and Trivial Pursuit. I ask you!! The queer boy farted in the kitchen, and someone received a call from a person insisting that my coworker was running for State Chair and needed to be headed to Pemrose TONIGHT! Indeed he was not running for State Chair but thanked the caller for her diligence.

Lynnette 8:15 AM

Tuesday, April 12

 

DREAM: Fake dog, wooden boats...

I am once again remembering my dreams, but they're coming to me in bits and pieces, rather than linear stories or even narratives. In one dream I was picking up my mom's dog, J.D. (Just Dog, who passed away a few years ago) from the pet groomer. His hair had been trimmed so short that you could see a scar pattern on his chest that looked like it said:

'www.handmade.com' 'M'

I wasn't sure who or what M was and I had never heard of that website. Unfortunately, I discovered that handmade.com was the manufacturer of "GMO" dogs, or rather dogs created in a lab according to a plan or specifications, instead of just being puppies and being born to a bitch. Nope, J.D. was a "fake dog".

Later Andy Harms, one of my former co-workers and an old friend from Lincoln, and I went out driving around in the snow on a large, wooden boat. There was snow all over the ground, and the boat (prior to taking off and flying) was shaped like a Lego boat I had invented on my own several years ago.

That's all I remember.

The previous night I dreamt I was shopping for organic vegetables in Iceland. Yes, in fact, they do have them, and organic produce is much more prevelant due to the lack of bugs in the area and the fact that their veggies are grown in greenhouses.

Lynnette 8:11 AM

Friday, April 8

 

A couple of short term goals...

I find myself to be a fairly accomplished young woman. However, there are two things that I would love to do before I spin out of this mortal coil: learning how to juggle, and walk in a nice pair of heels. Granted, I don't wish to learn how to do juggle while walking in heels, just separately, and probably on different days of the week. Now that I thought of it though, juggling in heels would be nifty, and a great party trick. As it is now my only party tricks are a some yo-yo tricks including a rusty walk-the-dog and a spot-on (if I do say so myself) rock-the-cradle. It's impressive to the drunkards, but not to the literary types (who more often than not can themselves yo-yo).

As far as heels go, I have been told by some to go out and buy a pair that you love and learn to walk in them. The problem with this becomes what do I do with the shoes if it turns out I am a born flatfoot?

Lynnette 8:47 AM

Wednesday, April 6

 

Okay, so Steve pointed out that my trip journal was super detailed up until the Blue Lagoon. hehe. I added some details so check it out again.

Lynnette 10:25 AM

Tuesday, April 5

 

Third trip of the year: Seattle

Some people may think I'm going a bit overboard with my traveling this year, but I say it's perfect. In fact, to travel for a living would be fantastic. Fantastic! (For some reason "fantastic" has been my most used adjective......). So I emailed my Step-Aunt Kay who lives in Tacoma. I started the buttering-up with a postcard from Iceland, and then a follow-up email when I returned home.

Get this: not only does she have a 4-bedroom house we can stay in, she has a spare car that needs to be driven so we won't even have to rent one when we're there! Plane tickets, food, and miscellaneous garbage. Holy cow. I need to unpack so I can pack for my next trip!

Oh, and have you ever been so rushed in the morning, ladies, that you forgot to put on underwear? Luckily the skirt I'm wearing is ankle-length, but it's really weird just being "out there" in front of my coworkers without their knowledge.

Lynnette 12:47 PM

Monday, April 4

 

Searching for Bobby Fischer, or, Nettie's return to Iceland

Monday:

Minneapolis time 3 pm. Amy and I arrived at the airport about 3 hours before our plane was scheduled to leave. We were both very strong and avoided breaking out our magazines that would bought specifically for killing time on the plane. After a few games of MASH (in which I was married to Christian Bale and rode around in a Dolorean) and some flipping around Amy's Reykjavik travel book, we finally boarded the plane. Leaving Minneapolis we were fortunate enough to watch the sunset twice, both below and above the cloud line. The flight was uneventful and I ended up watching the movie Parenthood, which I own, for the 12th time. Not sure why but I never tire of watching it; probably Steve Martin, he's wonderful.

Tuesday:

Near the end of our six hour journey over the Atlantic ocean we once again had a double encounter with the sun, seeing the sunrise first above the clouds and then as we landed in darkness it rose again. Now I can honestly say I have seen two sunsets and two sunrises on the same day.

Before leaving Minneapolis Amy had been forced to check her suitcase (a lousy single inch larger than the allowed carry-on size) so after deboarding we headed down to baggage claim. Immediately I wondered if we had not landed at Eriksson International Air Terminal, but in some weird Scandinavian-Moroccan market. The baggage claim area (a room maybe 100 feet by 30) was filled to the brim with a lot of very good looking Icelanders and some very rude, smelly Germans. Yes, my people are rude and smelly. Fabulous. I did my best to be patient, and hold my ground but the large Germans ended up pushing out of the way as they pushed their caravan of luggage through the dense crowd. Amy went in search of her suitcase. This was far different than Steve and my experience last year when we wasted time shopping after the landing, missed the crowd at baggage claim and subsequently our bus to town. It was fantastic; my brain was completely over stimulated trying to pick out all the languages, and I was loving every second of the crowded mess.

As I mentioned above, last year Steve and I missed the bus, literally. This time around Amy and I found ourselves on the bus to Reykjavik at precisely 6:47 am Iceland time. Back in Minneapolis it was just peeking past midnight. Not having slept on the flight I was really starting to feel the jet lag. The weather outside was slightly chilly, and wet. A wee bit of rain was coming down but it was no match for the storm that had greeted me one year prior. I decided that we were extremely fortunate.

After checking in at the Hotel Loftleiðer we found ourselves briefly napping on two very clean and comfy twin beds. Around 11 am or so Amy and I headed downtown for food; the slight meal (however so wonderful) had not been enough to satiate my belly. We wandered down the main drag and somehow came across an Indian/Pakistani restaurant that we wanted to find during our vacation. Needless to say it was fantastic; fairly cheap and very yummy. I had the daily beef curry meal which was only around 850 kronur. (around 14 dollars, and yes this is very cheap for a meal in Iceland).

Amy suggested that we buy groceries for most of our meals and I agreed it was in our best interest. Last year Steve and I spent well over 200 dollars in eating out alone. We headed to a store called "BONUS", whose logo was big, black block letters and a pink pig who posed for the "O". Some signs had a coin going into the pig's back, piggy-bank style, and the coin also doubled as the accent mark above the "O"/pig. I bought strawberries, spelt bread (which is expensive in the US, but was cheap in Iceland, who knew), bananas (Costa Rican), and a bag of green giant carrots (which said "Produce of USA"). Of course I bought the obligatory Skyr, this deliciously thick Icelandic yogurt, and by the second day of our trip I was yogurted-out. Lugging our groceries downtown we stopped for a pick-me-up at an underground coffee shop. (Underground as in basement, not as in subversive of antiestablishment). I cannot express enough how fucking awesome the coffee is in Iceland. I need to find the brand name, but it's a coffee/espresso hybrid. Not quite coffee, but not quite espresso. Fucking awesome. Starts with an "L". Oh, I must find it! Update: I did find that coffee, it's called Lavazza Espresso!

So with groceries warming in our bags we went to the Reykjavik Library. Why? I guess because it was there. Apparently Icelanders love comics and graphic novels. I truly think comics are highly underrated and it was great to see shelves upon shelves of comics available for check-out. There was some local art hanging on the wall, by a comic artist and I snagged some choice photos. I believe the name of the creator was "Erro", with an accent on the "o". We headed out to find the Reykjavik Art Museum, but even with the help of several version of the city map we were unable to find it (until the next day). At this point we were famished and headed over to an internationally famous hotdog kiosk Baejarins Bestu, or City's Best, where patrons are able to order a "Clinton" hotdog (a hotdog with only mustard, named after a popular US president who apparently only likes mustard on his hotdog). I ordered two Clintons and added ketchup, and a sugar-filled Pepsi. Sugared drinks and hotdogs, what was I doing?? Icelanders are all about hotdogs, but ya know what, they ruled. And no fooling on the internationally famous as it was recently featured in Budget Travel magazine

Wednesday:

This was the first morning we were able to take advantage of the free breakfast included in our hotel stay. It was perfect: yummy and filling. There was his amazing homemade muesli that had hazelnuts, almonds, oats, and bits of banana. Followed by a tasty caramel-chocolate-apple strudel
, hash browns that were sort of prepared like a warmed German potato salad, scrambled eggs, juice, and a LOT of coffee. OH yes, and the obligatory pickled fish pieces, none of which Amy had the balls to even try!! You big pussy!! I say, when in Rome....do as the Icelanders do. After breakfast we decided to find the Reykjavik Art Museum, come hell or high water, or, more appropriately, come volcano eruption of earthquake. It was two doors down from the library, where we had been yesterday, and right on the street where the hotdog kiosk was located. Not sure how we missed it. On the first floor we were greeted by a large glass wall on which the cover of Art Spiegelman's MAUS was shown in frosted glass. Upstairs there was an entire exhibition of comic artists; most of the submissions were from Icelandic artists, but some hailed from Norway, Canada, and even some Drawn and Quarterly comics from the US were on display. The highlight of the exhibition was the entire room of Art Spiegelman's drafts and practice covers from MAUS, as I mentioned in my earlier post. Downtown we hopped on the Number 7 bus (our favorite as it's the only one that drops off at the Hotel Loftleiðer) and after a pit stop for Icelandic-labeled Marlboro's for Amy and a bus transfer we ended up at the Smaralind mall, the newest and largest mall. It consisted of two floors of very pricey boutiques, a couple of department stores as mall "bookends", and a movie theatre. The new Woody Allen movie was playing there but the theatre had not yet opened for the day. In fact, the entire mall was nearly void of people. I almost bought a t-shirt that said simply "IOWA: We So Corny!" because it seemed so out of place. Instead I opted for a photograph of the 50 dollar shirt and saved my money.

After riding the bus around for most of the day I went along with Amy while she had a beer at Nelly's until the music started to suck and then we went to Prikið where the music never sucks. When we opened the door New Order's "Blue Monday", my all-time favorite dance song, was just coming to a close.

Thursday:

This was probably our busiest day of the vacation. In the morning we peeked through the curtains of our hotel room only to find it raining steadily on the one day we were planning on being outdoors most of the day. Well, you just have to make do. I piled on the layers, then thought about it and piled on even more. Later that day, cold, went and happy as our tour guide called us, I was glad I pulled on the extra jacket. The shuttle to the Ishetar horse stables picked us up around 9 am. Here we were greeted with oversized, orange, riding pants and coats with hoods, and riding helmets. I couldn't believe I was putting on even MORE layers. It sort of felt like getting dressed to play in the snow when you're a kid on winter break (luckily I made a pee break right before). As we were matched up with horses that suited our personal riding experience, I was presented to a small Icelandic pony named "Vængur" (sounds like Winger) which means "Wing". He was a good pony, but I could tell he had a bit of attitude. He also liked to ride very close to the butt of the pony in front of him, which was not always a great idea. Some of the ponies had a tendency towards kicking behind them. It was a good solid two hours of riding, half walking slowly and half trotting which really hurt my ass, but it was tons of fun. The landscape was breathtakingly beautiful; picture the surface of the moon, black lava as far as you could see and huge crevices, all covered with a bright green moss. The wool gloves I wore became soaking wet in the first half hour, but it didn't bother me too much. Halfway through our trek we stopped to fix stirrup lengths and adjust our orange garb. One of the ponies accidentally kicked our tour guide and she started yelling at him in Icelandic. I found that when you scream Icelandic it sounds a helluva lot like German.

We made it back to the stables and I bid Vængur a fond farewell with a cheesy, touristy photo of myself next to my pony. There wasn't a moment to spare as we hopped directly onto the shuttle for the Golden Circle tour outside of town. The drive was about an hour long, and many of the people who had been riding with us that morning took cat naps as the tour guide rambled on and on about Viking lore and the history of the land and people of Iceland. It was too fascinating to sleep through and I ended up listening to all of his stories. He spoke of Thor the god of thunder and lightning, of Icelandic taxes paying for tuition for students at the University, and of the weather and volcanoes and such. We stopped for a pee break at a place called "EDEN" and had yet another fabulous Icelandic hotdog (pylsa). Again with mustard and ketchup; although it's worth noting that the mustard they used was this weird sort of spicy brown mustard that had an odd Grey Poupon look to it. It was awesome. Our Golden Circle tour took us to Gulfoss (the waterfalls), Geysir (and Strokkur which nearly drenched Amy and myself as it erupted), and the exploded volcano crater Kerið. On the way back to town the weather had cleared up and stopped raining.....for about 20 minutes, then it began to snow and as we arrived back in Reykjavik flurries were still falling.

Another nap at the hotel and then back out again. On the Number 7 bus we bumped into a drunk Icelander named Asta or Austa who went with us downtown and took us to a fancy restaurant called Laekjarbrekka where she let us use her "2 for 1" card for the bill. This was extremely helpful since my meal alone was 2950 kronur (around 50 dollars) and Amy's was nearly five thousand (75 bucks). On a side note, here's a website where you can see pictures of Icelandic currency.

The Laekjarbrekka restaurant is located in one of the oldest buildings in Reykjavik and it definitely had an old-world edge to the fanciness. (Is fanciness a word?) I had a salted cod meal with these amazing mashed potatoes and Amy had the lamb and lobster dish, an Icelandic version of surf and turf, known as "mountain and bay". Austa stayed for awhile and told us a bit about herself: she was 48 years old and had a son in his late 20s. She kept telling us she wanted him to marry a nice girl, and we got the distinct feeling she was trying to pimp out her son to us. I didn't think about asking her for pictures until later that night. When she was 16 she went to Norway for 6 months and worked in a hotel. She told us this was the best time of her life. A year later she answered an advertisement calling for hotel workers who spoke Norwegian and moved to Canada for a short while. At one point she said she was homeless, but I think she was confused with her English, which, as she became drunker, she tended to speak less of. I suppose it was because I was seated in a fancy restaurant, and was preparing to eat the most expensive meal of my life, but Austa asked me if I had been an old woman in my former life. I told her a lot of people told me that; I guess I'm sort of a grandma at times. I like table manners and I wear a stocking hat, glasses and braids and usually have a very serious look on my face. Other than that I don't know what tipped her off. I asked Austa if she had been to the United States and she replied that she had visited New York City while she was pregnant and Baltimore. Baltimore? I thought it was random and quite odd to chose to visit Baltimore, especially for a foreigner, but then I remembered that Icelandair flies directly to Baltimore, thus, they have a lot of Icelandic visitors. In fact, one of the cab drivers we hired was planning a trip to Baltimore that summer.

At one point Austa's cell phone would not quit ringing. She answered and then proceeded to have both myself and Amy say hello to her sister, who was decidedly less well-versed in English than Austa. All she managed to ask me was whether or not I was having fun with her sister, and then I asked her name, which I couldn't understand. Austa was very fond of saying "Right on, girls!" and giving high fives. However, she didn't feel comfortable saying "dude" and told us so when I kept trying to get her to say "Yeah dude!". She let two out and then shyly refused to say anymore. After dinner Austa wanted to take us downtown to party, but when she realized we had to wake up at 9 am the next morning to head to Blue Lagoon (which she approved of greatly) she walked us to the door of Prikið and said her goodbyes. I'm sure she's still nursing that hangover.

Friday:

We caught a last-minute bus downtown to get a picture of the best graffiti I saw on my vacation. "CRIPPLED LEGGED FLORIDA" was spray painted randomly in an alley. It was worth the extra trip. While Amy checked her email one last time I wandered around Old Town Reykjavik snapping pictures on a rare cloudless day. Unfortunately, we timed our bus incorrectly, and had to grab a taxi back to the hotel. Then we checked out and got on the bus for the Blue Lagoon, our last stop before heading to the airport later Friday afternoon. The Blue Lagoon is a hot spring spa located in the middle of nowhere. You look around and as far as your eyes can see it's lava fields and mountains and then BOOM there's a spa. We gave our tickets at the door and then headed towards the locker rooms. A sign consisting of a silhouette of a shoe with a line through it told us we were required to take off our shoes before entering the women's locker room. A sign hanging above the shoe rack read "Leave Shoes at Your Own Risk", but I figured it to be fairly safe. We were given plastic wrist bands that were implanted with a microchip. Inside the locker room we found ourselves in the midst of a LOT of nekkid women; not shirts off, or pants off, but full-on nudity. Welcome to Europe hehe. Our lockers were locked by slamming them shut, and then running and facing our micro chipped bracelets to the main sensor until it beeped and flashed green. On the way out of the locker room, towards the Lagoon I was presented with yet another sign requiring me to shower without my bathing suit; this explained all the fully nude women. Having already completely undressed in front of not only my friend Amy and a roomful of strangers, I felt that I deserved a shower with a curtain and hopped in after an old, naked women stepped out of it. I rinsed off and headed out to the water. Stepping in it was immediately too hot and yet at the same time perfect. The water is 2/3 saltwater and 1/3 freshwater and appeared to have a milky consistency. If you put your hand just under the water you couldn't see it there; it was that milky. I had read about the medicinal wonders of the Blue Lagoon, especially for people with psoriasis (Psoriasis Coalition represent!) so this was right up my alley. At its deepest point the water hit just around my shoulders. Floating was much easier due to the higher concentration of salt, and I found myself floating around on my back almost bumping into strangers left and right. Above the water moisture rose in such large clouds that you could see past the steam unless you swam through it to the other side. People seemed to disappear into the clouds as they walked and swam away. After about an hour in the water we realized we felt really, really hot. So we opted to go to the edge of the Lagoon and rest on the platforms, half in-half out of the water. The air temperature that day was only around 40, but it felt amazing after being dipped into the hot pot. The water was this amazing blue color because of the silica and algae, and the mix of the saltwater and clay stayed in my hair for 2 days after returning home. (It took about 8 shampoos to get out!) It was very relaxing. After having our fill of the spa, we ordered lunch and had our fill of excellent Icelandic salmon in the Blue Lagoon restaurant. Note: if you order a latte in Iceland, you get a cappuccino, at least at the Blue Lagoon's restaurant. It was the perfect ending to a wonderful vacation.
Despite the fact that the plane ride back to Minneapolis was nearly 30 minutes longer than the plane ride to Iceland, it seemed really short. I think the in-flight movie, Finding Neverland, really helped. I had been wanting to see that movie since it was in theatres but never found the time. I cried and cried and cried. Then I read magazines, and suffered through some awful turbulence right before landing in Minneapolis. I came home to a very lonely boyfriend, and an immaculate kitchen and living room. Laundry was even done and the clutter was all put away. Maybe I should leave the country more often.

Lynnette 1:38 PM