Was provided with a lift to Malmoe by sis and her boyfriend, even applied dinner at their place before honorering my appointment with cousin Thor. Good of them to see me to his door – saves me a penny or two everytime they transfer me from the Danish to the Swedish soil, and I hope to be able to repay them in some small way when I’ll help them out painting their apartment, soon. Good to see them again, and they gave us a pre-Christmas present in the form of a smoke-detector I’ll find the time to install soon enough. ~~~ Equally good to visit with Thor. Saw some four films as late evening turned into a decent four o’clock before going to bed. He’d purchased pasta-plates towards preparing a magnificient lasagne, absolutely held its own. He should do some more cooking on his own, I think, he’s good enough at it and would save himself a bundle of money. Of course this would also mean spending a bit more time than seems the case now in cleaning out the place; I’m dumbfounded every time I’m in his kitchen. It’s a bachelor’s life at display, what with some hundred and fifty three and more gallon Coca-Cola bottles, stacks and stacks of empty milk-cartons and other assorted trash, empty beer-cans and Red Bull-soft drink cans stacked high. I am not ever kidding. The floor of his bathroom, that’s an account transscript in the corner, three empty toothpaste wrappings on the sink, knee-high one wanders in clothes, toilet-paper rolls tops the trash-can. On his dining-table, crusted bread from last week, some kind of butter or what ever the hell it was, fortunately sealed in its jar but if ever one opened it… Those sort of things. It’s a bit discouraging at first, but one gets used to it and I couldn’t say that I myself did a whole lot better when I was on my own. Well, a little better, perhaps. A lot, in fact. But I’ve near always been, shall we say, ‘refined’, in matters of keeping house. ‘Anal’, perhaps a better word, truth be told. And, frankly, all the trash at his place combined and stacked on top of each other could not conceal the fact that he’s a great guy, great fun to be around and I’m glad he accepts my calls. Mentioned, did he, that he was unsure of how he would be spending his Christmas; took the liberty to invite him with me to mum and dad’s for the holiday. Hope he accepts, but remain uncertain of his feelings in the matter. Fact remains he’ll be turning his mother down, I think, and that’s perhaps not something he’s quite ready to go ahead and do. Will he ever be, I fear it’ll take him until the day she passes away. A horrible thing to say, but for the hell of it I had mum to back me up on this and I so wish I knew exactly what he’s about when it comes to that subject. Would very much like to assist in his struggles, if he has any, with his mother. Shit, I’m pretty fucked up but in recovery when it comes to that very subject matter, and I might be able to do some good with what I’ve come to learn about myself over the course of the past half year. I’d certainly like to try, but he’s less than accessible in that area, and there’s little I think I can do. Mothers. What can you do. See someone with a degree in psychiatry, I guess is the proper answer for that one. Some serious soul-searching sure as shit goes into renouncing certain parts of our heritage. ~~~ Saw ‘Oh Brother, Where Art Thou’ – ‘Deer Hunter’ – ‘The Unsaid’ – and ‘MASH’. First one good though didn’t make my list of films to see again. Second one already there, third time around it proved ever the charm is always was. Powerful, powerful film. Less so ‘the Unsaid’, with Andy Garcia struggling his less than finest. ‘MASH’ was simply awful in its structure, I can believe they put this thing out in the seventies but they would’ve fared worse in the eighties and beyond. Lucky timing on their part, especially director Altman’s. A few good laughs and very little else. Went to bed, as mentioned, around four, woke up at a bit to ten, rested until eleven. Five and then some hours – always horrible at sleeping in strange places. Went for rolls and had’em to the last film of the visit, ‘the Dish’. Australian dramady about the satelite disc station relaying the tv-images of austranauts Armstrong and Collins, I believe it was, walking on the moon for the very first time. Liked this one a lot, which is almost always the case when I bear witness to true stories involving great human feats, as certainly landing and walking on the moon proved to be. Magnificient comedy parts, too. They don’t take themselves too seriously, which is where subtle jokes fall flat. This kind of subtlety leaves it to the viewer to gain what he or she invests and, well, comprehends. Cannot recall a Danish premire of this one, so I guess they left it out of the loop, to their shame. Nice structure to it, too. Couldn’t much say anything bad about this one. ~~~ Back around three. Wet from riding my bicycle in the rain, three straight days I have come home and been like that. Girlfriend could not conceal her excitement any longer and presented me with a present she’s been working on for days on end, a sown Christmas-calender gift quilt, with pockets for gifts and all. Then two tickets for a Christmas caberet at the Tivoli. She’s really been spending a lot of time and money to make me happy, and happy I am and will remain for a healthy beat to come. Will – unbeknownst to her, naturally – transfer some money into her account, for there’s no kind of fairness in always being at the receiving end, which is much how it feels these days. ~~~ Tomorrow Sunday. Am hoping for a quiet day.