Sometimes you find yourself in the middle of nowhere. And sometimes in the middle of nowhere you find yourself.

Post time's been sparse lately, but just so y'all know I'm living the life over here! For the most part. When I don't end up going down unhealthily long rabbit holes of reaction videos I thought I'd never see a reason to watch... but I understand now. I understand the appeal.

Seeing people get introduced to artists you enjoy is maybe a bit like reliving the experience of being introduced to them yourself. Back in the day.

It's nostalgic, and also gratifying how the things that resonate with you resonate with others, though at the same time what kind of world do we live in when we don't share such gratification first-hand, with people in our near vicinity? Instead we turn to strangers, who maybe have more charm and/or more tact in their reactions than people we know. Or just the time. To react in the first place. While we waste ours watching their reactions.

It's a strange phenomena isn't it?

Sometimes you learn a thing or two as well. Sometimes they catch nuances you didn't catch yourself. If you watch a specialist reaction you can for example learn how false vocal cords let the amazing Tatiana growl in Pisces, by Jinjer, or what the green color palette in NF's videos do to your mood, or how they manage so precise camera movements in Hopsin's recent videos (it's a Kira).

All this is plain and good but... I really will never understand how some people just watch other people play games. When they could play themselves. What's the point in watching a game?

I mean I hope I won't ever understand that. I hope I don't stumble into that rabbit hole too. I'm getting into more than enough rabbit holes lately.

I did however take a refreshing step away from all these sometimes so superficial aspects of the digital realm for a while, and visit good buddy Andreas up in Boden! After those intense B-day celebrations last week. To venture out in a winter we don't much have here, and catch some sunrays reflected on the massive scopes of snow they have up there. Like for real.

Here's me in Boden.

Read on...

Treat someone like a celebrity and they'll treat you like a fan.

No matter what the weather is like, bring your own sunshine!

Paraphrased I think! Originally maybe said by Anthony J. Angelo.

Almost forgot to post this this year! Just like I almost forgot about the day itself, but fortunately my nephew was visiting, and we met up with my sister and her boyfriend, and they bought semlor.

He'd been taste-testing different café variants for days prior too. There's a real semel aficionado right there! My own passion pales in comparisson.

So thank you Leif.

He bought the gluten-free special you see above from Tösses - a renowned Stockholm bakery - they already had orders for at least a thousand semlor when he stopped by, just before time came for the traditional Swedish Fika (that Wikipedia article apparently doesn't know that customary fika time here is either 11 AM and/or 3 PM - in workplaces usually both).

And it was delicious. A little rubbery, like the gluten-free alternations tend to be, but good. Fresh vanilla cream and plenty of cardamom.

You can see last year's semla here. :) Had that one with the same buddy I'm flying up to visit tomorrow, some things really are becoming routine...

No alternative home-made semlor this year though - parents actually did forget! But we've been partying all weekend and then some, with multiple cakes, and they're old, so maybe that's acceptable just this once.

Happy (slightly belated only in posting) Fat Tuesday y'all.

My dad's hitting a commendable age today, so Happy Birthday Dad! And Happy Valentine. And have a Happy Day everyone else!

Image source here. Haven't watched that video but it looks nostalgic... homage to the greatest era ever. Today both a personal birthright and grand numerical reason for celebration. So here's a dedication.

Time to jump off and eat some cake and stuff; honor a good dude, who's lived quite the live and pulled through... I wrote a poem in Swedish, but one more might be good too! Without this father figure I'm not sure what I would do. Or where I'd be. Who I'd be. Who I'd look to if in true despair or need. And would I have the free time, to spare on creative fares and deeds? Would I have time to here emcee? Would I have the view on the world I have - learned from all the turfs we mapped, growing up way further back in exotic burbs with turban hats? My sun spots dot me spotty, like I'm on the verge of black.

Learned piano, stirred some mats, even got a marching drum. We're all way back in Sweden now, but still look at how far we've come!

Eighty years? I hate the wear, but hope it'll still be great in here, with food and cake and awaking cheer. Ringing away the ancient years.

And here's to another ten at least, till once again we pen and feast, and honor this great tennis beast! Though he may not see the same play in me - I seek other ways to be. He still plays at least two games a week, can't age defeat, we take a knee.

Happy Birthday, BG.