Tuesday 21 December 1999

Pic of the day: "Prepare yourself" says the text on this shop window at H&M. I bought a grey shirt there. It was half price, three days before Christmas. What are they doing, charity? Anyway, I like their slogan. It very nicely sums up the feeling here in Norway. There is no Y2K scare here, but rather a serene Millenium expectation. As if people are waiting, patiently but expectantly, to enter something new and great. Like going to college for the first time, or something. There is a slight nervousness, yes, but mostly optimism. I had not expected it to be this way.

"Till the end of time" whispered a thought in my head. "??" "Title for the next diary" explained the thought. "Is something about to happen?" thought I, worried. But the thought was gone. Later, as I sat in front of my computer, I tried to recall where I had heard that before. It was eerily familiar. I could even hear a rhythm, almost a melody to it. I tried to sing it ... and suddenly, the song by Chris de Burgh:

Up here in Heaven, we stand together,
both the enemy and the friend, 'till the end of time;
Up here in Heaven, we are forever,
there is only one God up here, for all of the world.

It's from his CD "This way up". I loved that song. Oh, and unless I am gravely mistaken, the guy is Irish. Though I am sure it is applicable many other places too.

Had another long convoluted dream this morning, some of which is already gone missing. But I remember I and my boss and a couple young ones (at least one of them was a younger sibling of my friend "Superwoman"). We were making our way back to known territory after some hair-raising adventure when in a gray underground tunnel my boss suddenly stopped following us. I went back. She was losing it, was panicked and confused, breaking down, afraid of moving forward, huddling in a corner. I felt such a deep empathy for her, because I recognized my own feelings. I very gently and slowly took her hands in mine, and I could feel her angst like a physical energy coursing through her. I then took a nearby light bulb, and still holding hands with her, I held it up in my right hand and made it shine, brighter and brighter. "You have to convert the fear" I explained, "make it into warmth and light." As the energy radiated from us, several of the nearby light bulbs brightened visibly, and her fear gradually subsided.

You know, it is not quite that easy in the waking world. Then again, in the waking world, she has not had a breakdown yet. Surprisingly.

Later in the dream, I talked with Supergirl's father and talked about how bravely his son has acted during our return to civilization. (As indeed he had.) I also talked about the friendship between his son and me. (This boy in the real world died at the age of 19 from a heart problem he was born with. I could certainly relate to that, having grown up in the shadow of death myself.) We sat by the edge of a natural pool of still dark water near the road, and our eyes filled with tears as we talked about the young boy.

Dreams of empathy, and from me? I guess we all have our suppressed sides.

This may be sort of obvious from context, but then again I am male and so everything is possible: No, there was nothing erotic about the whole holding hands thing in the dream. For some reason, I am pretty near as non-horny as I've been in my adult life. And that even though it is nearly full mooooon. It feels slightly strange when I think about it, but I rarely do. It could be that the systems are finally shutting down (hey, I'm almost 41!) but most likely, this will change with a holiday surrounded by delicious girls. Still, it's a nice starting point.

Yes! Today is the last day before my holiday vacation to Oppegård, if all goes well. A few practical things. As I hope you've noticed, Supergirl's family have moved. They still have the same phone number, though, as it is in the same area. Still if you want to contact me, you may first want to try my mobile phone (92800445), or a text message to my mobile phone, or an e-mail to my old address (itlandm@online.no). I suspect that my new address (itlandm@netcom.no) will not be available from there, as it depends on calling internet via Netcom's 1515 prefix, and not all households have this yet.

I guess I should be packing. I am sure to forget something this time around too. I just don't know what. I've also bought some literature for the train. The Secret of Shambhala by James Redfield, the New Age guy ("trust synchronicity!"). It is a novel, follow-up to The Celestine Prophecy and The Tenth Insight. People tend to either love or hate these books. Some people seem to treat them as more than novels, more like holy scriptures. In the long run, I think that will lead to disappointment. It's only a novel, people.

Oh, and I went out and had a haircut today. I remember last year I showed up all hairy and Superwoman chased me off to get a haircut on one of the last days before Christmas when everywhere was packed. Not again.

OK, that was all. Update may be spotty during the near week, I expect to be back the night before December 28. (I am not going to stay there "till the end of time", much as I would like to.) I will try to handle e-mail (to my old account) but even this hinges on the indifference of a particularly fascinating young woman. If she has other ideas, they take precedence. (Don't get any dirty thoughts here. Movie and dinner is the limit. Or was that dinner and movie? As long as I don't even remember that, I guess my chastity is fairly safe.)