Parfait Amour

One of Anniken’s friends is getting married in a month and for her bachelorette party Anniken promised that I’d make them a special drink. Not a terribly bad idea – if I actually knew anything at all about mixing a drink. Summer Surprise is a tasty and refreshing drink, but it was a lucky fluke and at least half the credit has to go to Hans Olav. My second drink, Awesome Autumn was a half-assed attempt by the pool in Spain and it’s basically a Screwdriver with a bit of lime.

But any challenge is a good challenge and for this one I decided to go all in. Any true artist has a vision and my vision was a purple cocktail in a sugar rimmed glass, garnished with a couple of maraschino cherries. So I set off searching the interwebs for stuff that could make a drink purple. BOLS Parfait Amour, with a soft and gentle taste of rose petals and orange with a subtle hint of vanilla, looked like it could do the job. I wasn’t too sure about the rose petals – I can’t really imagine that they taste very well – but I like both orange and vanilla. So I ordered a bottle. Licorice is also a nice flavor and I ordered a bottle of white Sambuca as well. It helped, of course, that my sources told me the happy couple enjoyed both purple and licorice, too.

When all the ingredients arrived, I sat down with Anniken and tried to put together a drink worthy a bachelorette party. It got interesting – I don’t think I’ve ever been drunk while there are still kids playing outside.

Part Two

The weekend was quiet, a little too quiet in terms of support issues. Of course I don’t mind, but when it gets too quiet, I get nervous. Is it the dreaded calm before the storm? As I’m writing this, three RAID controllers are probably failing in the data centre.

I’m not usually a superstitious guy, but when someone says “no major support issues this week”, I tend to knock on wood.

Friday’s Kompisfestival was a success, me and Terje dominated the dance floor – or at least a couple of square meters of it. I’m not sure if you can call what we do “dancing”, but at least we’re having a good time and that’s the most important thing. The DJ was a bit of a moron who didn’t take requests. What gives? If we had come for the music and paid to listen to him DJ, I could have understood him, but the fact was that the organizers had paid him to play. In my head that means that he should take requests. Maybe he had a reputation to maintain, what do I know.


Another weekend is finally here, a very welcome break from a work week that has been rather mad at times. I’m not going into details, let’s just say that I don’t like to get up in the middle of the night. A man needs sleep to function properly.

This weekend you can once again tune the idiot box to more Formula 1 action, this time from Turkey. I taped both of today’s exercise sessions, but have only had the time to watch one of them so far. The exercise sessions are usually kind of lame compared to the qualifying and the actual race, but there were a few spins – Ralf Schumacher spent more time turning his car in the right direction than driving it, I would be very surprised if this is not his last Formula 1 season – and David Coulthard’s RB3 had a fuel leak that caused it to catch on fire. Probably unaware of the engine fire, he continued around the track until the track marshals managed to stop him.


Tonight I’m attending the annual Kompisfestival. Not sure if I should bring my camera or not. Probably not.


No, not me. I haven’t been to a party in a while and I’m not really missing it. Either I’m turning to an (even more) boring fart, or it’s because work is hampering my mood and the need to attend any type of social gathering except for going to the movies. I’m hoping the latter is the case and I should do something about it.

New life with both socializing and exercise starts again next week. It’s a good time to start because the guys at work are starting to return from their summer vacations and I’m off support duty for at least two weeks. I’ve never been any good at this start-a-new-an-better-life-thing, though, if you have been reading my entries over the years, you know exactly how bad I am at it.

Someone in one of the first floor (that’s “ground floor” if you’re a fish and chips regular) apartments decided to have a party last night. They played some really, really loud music. There is of course nothing wrong with that – I might be turning into a boring fart, but I’m not a old fart yet. We heard the music quite well all the way up to our fourth floor apartment and when they started to play “Girls Just Want to Have Fun” by Cyndi Lauper over and over again, I was pretty sure it was the gay couple downstairs who had invited a few friends over. But it was not, it was just a stereotype failure by me.


This weekend Gine and myself are in Stockholm to celebrate Tomas’ graduation. The flight went fine. Gine said it was the worst landing she’d experienced, I’m not sure if I can agree with her. It was a bumpy ride, and the pilot had a hard time getting the speed of the approach right, but I’ve seen worse. The real problems began when we went to pick up our luggage as no luggage was to be found anywhere. I expect that a possible reason for the problems was this:

Picture taken with a Sony Ericsson K800i