Hairdos Through the Decades


Some people just seems to pull off anything, also any kind of hairdos. I mean, take Natalie Portman for example; she looks just as amazing being bold, short haired, long haired, brunette or blonde. Me, I am not one of those people, and this post is my shameful and quite frankly very embarrassing proof of that… f

My history starts around 44 years ago, where I was born screaming and kicking and not to mention bold. I have heard stories about 3 months old babies with quite a set of hair, while my bold, little head didn’t need scissors before the age of 3 (me on the left below).

After a few years, even my hair started to grow, but I never got this thick or curly hair I envied my friends for. I was stuck with my flat, home cut blonde hair and up until I started school, me and my brother had the exact same hairdo.




Then it was my turn to start school, and by then I had grown at least enough hair to have pony tails. Still home cut, obviously….



In my final year at elementary school, I got this great idea to cut my hair short and with a hockey neck (hey, it was the 80-ies). This had to be done at a proper hairdresser, but what we hadn’t thought of is that such a do has to be maintained at least monthly and that cost was not exactly in our budget. Every three months was more like it, leading to the do-being quite flat and straight up ugly (even by that decade’s standards) for the last couple of months. Add a couple of plastic ear lobes and you have the answer for why I missed out on my first kiss in elementary school.

At lower secondary school (ages 13-16) I came once again up with a not so brilliant ide; home perm. Picture this; a bit of a flubby girl with a tiny head, a botch home perm-do and a big, fluffy jacket of the cheap kind.

My at-least-I-have-a-bird-friend-do:

Sweet 16 do:

Confirmation do:

My last year at the lower secondary school, I (fortunately) stopped experimenting and went for a more safe do for a few years, and hey… I got my first kiss 🙂

My volleyball-do:

Throughout high school I continued to play it safe, with long, straight hair. My experimental inner self turned its attention to clothes instead, but that is another (and just as tragic) story.




Then I entered my 20-ies where I revisited my experimental side. At that time I practiced several times a day, so a short do was the most practical one. Even if it made me look like a boy….


In my mid-20-ies, i lived in Oslo and one day I just decided to color my hair black!! With my pale, white face and that terrible black hair, I looked more like a lucky-troll than anything else.


And of course, realizing my mistake and wanting my blondness back, I had to go through a more carrot-colored phase since I did not had the funds to do a proper coloring at a salon.


After a while, I regained my natural hair color, but I kept the short do into the new millennium.


At 30, I felt that my experimental phase was over and since then I have stayed away from both very short hair, perm, black color and home cut hair. I have, however, alternated between long and half-long hair.


My prosecco-happy-do:











I started this post by saying that some people can get away with wearing anything. Well, I have found an exception, because absolutely NO ONE can pull off this jacket to a cost of approx USD 7.500, even though many thought they could since the jackets were quickly sold out (#WhatsUpWithTheBratz).

Foto: Getty Images

Let it rain, let it rain, let it rain… (#Perfect)

For several weeks (that feels like years) it has depressingly snowed and snowed and snowed and the damn shuffle has now become an integrated attachment to my sensible (now blistering) office-hands both before and after my actual day job. With streets so full of snow that cannot be removed by plow trucks due to idiot car owners not able to read signs telling them there is a temporary parking prohibition in the city center, it is quite the adrenaline kick to try to move around.. Outside my own house, I now have to shuffle away additionally 5 meters of snow due to the missing access for the plow truck. And even then, people have been parking their cars at the plowing edge, making the street so small that now the plow truck cannot drive there at all and I have to wiggle around to even be able to get my car into my yard. Those cars (or more specific, their owners) have now become my personal hate objects (even though I know that if I had been in their shoes (or car) I might have done the same if I was desperate enough for a parking space…)

Just when there was actually not any room for any more snow and I was about to give up on the whole winter, the weather forecast suddenly promised rain! But, given that they also forecasted -7 degrees Celsius, it of course ended up in snow/ice (what the H*)# were they thinking???), I must admit that meteorologists in general and Yr weather forecast in particular also ended up for my seasonal hate list. Yesterday, however, we suddenly migrated to degrees on the good side of 0 and in the afternoon it finally started to rain. Of course, rain on lots and lots of snow, gives ice and slushy conditions, so today the streets are a mess and I fully intend to stay as much indoors as possible. But, on the good side, I was able to see with my own, blue eyes, how the snow had retreated to the point where I can actually start to see the floor of my terrace! It would of course be better if we had even higher degrees and lets say… sun, but at this point I am settling for ANYTHING that can make the snow go away.

Unfortunately there will be a few days with slushy streets, and with the stupid parked cars not going anywhere, I am not that optimistic about anyone coming to remove the ice/slush. So maybe I will just sit this one out and take the bus for the next few days. Anyways, I hope this is the last we will see of winter this year (or at least until I leave for Dubai and Tokyo in a week). I choose for now to be a slight optimist but with the option of blowing up if more white goo finds its way here…

Have I mentioned how much I really hate snow?

10 Things I learned from watching TV

Being a product of the first real TV-generation in Norway, which means growing up with at least a couple of alternatives to the national channel, I have found that there is much wisdom to be acquired from watching TV and here follows some of my learnings….

10. Size doesn’t matter

Tyrion Lannister from Game of Thrones must be the all time prime example of “You don’t always have to look tall to stand tall”. Go Tyrion… and yes, I am so longing for the final season..

9. Cultivation of wisdom

Star Trek – The Next Generation from the late 80’s actually taught me as late as last week something really obvious and yet something upon we often don’t reflect.

“The beginning of wisdom is: I do not know.” Data

8. Remember to be selfish (at least sometimes)

Maybe not something to linger for, but sometimes it is important to look after oneself. Not as often as George Constanza from Seinfelt of course, but still.. 

7.  Pursuit of happiness

The 70s show taught me that it is important to be surrounded by people who makes you happy. “Life is too short to spend it with people who annoy you” Red Forman.

6. Unconditional Love

Movies like Brigdet Jones og series like How I met your mother have taught me that you shouldn’t settle for less than a life partner that actually appreciate you for who you are (bingedrink of Pepsi Max, crow-like singing voice, flounder-like running style and all…).

“Shouldn’t we hold out for the person who doesn’t just tolerate our little quirks, but actually kinda like them?” Ted Mosby.

5. Cliffhanger in the last episode of the final season sucks! 

Not the only series that has taught me this, but Scorpion taught me that TV companies don’t give a shit about their viewers and have no scruples in killing off a series with a cliffhanger ending (#UpYours).

4. Families come in all forms and shapes

Series like Modern family has taught me that the modern core family is no longer a one-size-fits-all kind of thing, but comes in all shapes and forms and that the most important thing is to be a part of a family that will always have your back.

3.  The nuances of life

Well, back to Game of Thrones… This series (among others) has taught me that the world contains nuances and should be viewed through a black/white lens. It has shown me that even the worst of villains has a soft spot, making it hard to truly hate them. But, no rules without exceptions, and a big exceptions here is of course King Joffrey, who deserved everything he got and whom I really, truly, deeply hated (so much in fact that I applauded and shouted “In your face” when he met his demise”, also when I re-watched the episode some months later…).

2. Women are allowed to fart

It is a well known fact (or so I thought) that women don’t fart (or flatulate). We try to hold it in and clenches for our bare lives throughout the day. But, at some time it has to come out and our sore spot is of course at night when we are finally relaxed, which can result in a slow stinker or a fart of the more loud kind.

In 1998 I was blissfully ignorant of involuntary flatulating (lucky me, I guess..) until I watched “The Drought” episode of Sex and the City, when Carrie finally feels comfortable sleeping in Mr Big’s apartment, but then manage to let go of a loud fart in her sleep. Believe it or not, but that episode actually helped soften the blow when the same thing happened to me 17 years later when spending the night at my boyfriend’s house. So, instead of digging a whole in the garden and through myself in of bare shame, I claimed the right to disavow all actions performed in a sleeping state.

1. Shrinkage

“It shrinks?” Elaine Benes-

In 1994 I was 20 years and once again blissfully ignorant, and this time of the phenomenon of shrinkage (meaning the effect cold has on a man’s private parts) before watching “The Hamptons” episode of Seinfelt and I must admit I had about the same reaction as Elaine.

So, to sum up, much is to be learned by watching TV, so feel free to binge away… 🙂

Life with a big brother – A constant fight and a friend for life

Just to clarify, I love my brother. Even though we are quite different in personality and manner, I could not ask for a better brother (or for a better uncle for my son, for that matter), and I know that he would do anything for me (as I would for him).

When that being said… It was not always so easy growing up with a big brother and sometime during our childhood it was a matter of survival (metaphorically speaking, of course…).

The Monopoly Challenge

I have, to put it mildly, an overdeveloped competitive instinct and all games growing up were a fight for life and death (at least it felt that way). I especially have a tense relationship with Monopoly due games with my brother in early childhood. He would hide away money, pretend he was loosing and hence lulling me into believing i was winning, before he would go for the kill and ask me if I needed to borrow some money… I clicked of course, and more often than not, our game ended in a fight (I did have some anger issues back then..).

The Skiing Challenge

We used to do a lot of cross-country skiing back then and every ski trip was of course a competition. My sore spot was that I could throw a tantrum and my brother’s strategy was of course to get me pissed, something he often achieved. If I was in the lead, he used to walk on top of my skis (very annoying) and use his ski pole to make snow fall off the tree branches over my head and onto me and my neck. The goal was of course to make me click so that I would stop and attack him (something I often did) and then push me to the side and retake the lead (he is after all a couple of years older than me and was quite capable of doing that). This strategy of his worked more often than I would like to admit, since I at the time had no sense of strategic thinking or the ability to learn from my mistakes.

The Joke Challenge

We grew up in a house without modern utilities like dishwasher, microwave oven or even a functional kitchen. We were, however, early adopters of our own video camera, since our father was quite the film buff. One afternoon he asked my brother and me + a friend of mine to tell jokes to the camera. My brother then asked me which joke I was to tell, something I didn’t want to relieve. He kept on pestering me, however, until I caved and told him. When we started with the jokes, he was the first joker out and he….told MY joke!! Guess what happened.. Or, you actually don’t have to guess since it’s all on tape (link). I promise, it is well worth a look.

Then fast forward to my first day at high-school. New, big school and the feeling of beeing very small. Already before the first class, some older students I had never seen in my life (including some very fine masculin specimen) came over and asked if I was the sister of my brother. When I confirmed, they told me they had watched videos of me and my brother for an entire vorspiel the weekend before, so lucky me… Not exactly the start I was hoping for at high school, since I was not exactly an attention seeker at that time (that came way later…)

The Air Challenge

Already at a young age I was very into books and could spend hours and hours reading. My brother was not much of a reader and when he was bored, he would go out of his way to disturb me from reading. He would then place his hands between me and my book while chanting “the air is for everyone..” over and over again. Did I mentioned I had anger issues back then?

The End-Of-The-Table Challenge

OK, when you read this paragraph you will think this is a story from the previous century, but the fact is that we use to have a grandmother with some old-fashion way of thinking. We grew up in a home with more or less gender equality and with no gender bias. Grandmother, however, was another story and my brother knew how to use this to his advantage. For instance, if I had taken the place at the end of the table for breakfast, he would order me away from it. When I (of course) told him to sod off, he would tell our grandmother who in turn will ask me to move, since “in our family, the end of the table is reserved for the man of the house”. Not exactly a message that was well received by me, especially not with my brother grinning in the background.

The Protector

Up until this point I have only told you about the competitive relationship between my brother and me. I will emphasize, however, that most of my childhood memories are of a warm and good nature. For instance, he often took the blame after a fight, no matter who started it. One time, when he had locked me out and I, in a furious rage, threw my fist through the glass of the door, breaking it and making blood gush all over the place, he instantly called my mother and started the conversation to claim responsibility for the incident. He as also worked as my protector throughout my whole childhood, scaring away anyone wanting to harm me. The protector behavior lasted also through my high-school years, all though not quite as much appreciated at that time since he had a few good looking friends he threatened to beat up if they tried to make a move on me.

Dubai 2018 – The Gepi Story

For 8-9 a little fury toy-cheetah was purchased in the gift shop of Kristansand Zoo and he soon became my son’s favorite toy animal which he both slept with every night and brought with him on all our trips around the world. But, alas, there comes a time when all little boys outgrow their fury little friends, so in the past years, poor Gepi’s only view has been from the inside of a Box. To cheer him up a bit, I therefore brought him along for our Christmas trip to Dubai for the trip of his lifetime, and sent back photos to my son to try to guilt trip him for neglecting his little friend. At first he did not find that amusing at all, but after a while he thougt it was pretty funny..,.

Christmas Day Brunch at Jumeirah Al Qasr, Dubai

Yup, on Christmas Day we went back to Jumeirah Al Qasr hotel for brunch, and it even outdid the Friday Brunch we had on the same location just a few days before. This time we were joined by Christmas carolers, the buffet choices were even greater and we also got a visit from Santa, who arrived in a dhow and threw candy to the kids.

We skipped the Christmas market after the brunch and instead we went to Khoubba bar at Al Qasr, who has a wonderful view of the Burj Al Arab. Even if we were pretty munch stuffed, we managed to eat some snacks with our drinks while we watched the beatiful sunset over Dubai.

In case you are not inspired yet, here are some pics from the venue… enjoy 🙂

The Spirit of Christmas

We all have our traditions for how to get a perfect Christmas. For some that is to bake cookies, make the house shine for the holiday, invite friends and family for Christmas parties, cut their own tree, decorate the entire house, make tree ornaments, sing Christmas carols binge on not so healthy food. There is no correct answer to which traditions one should keep; every family have to come up with their own and they should not br critisized for their choices. The point is that traditions should give you a good and warm feeling inside, not make you feel like a prisoner. Familytime should be the priority, but that comes in many shapes and forms.

I felt for many years trapped by the expectations of my surroundings of what constitutes proper celebration of Christmas. But no more; me a and my family have chosen to follow our on path and for Christmas that path leads us to Dubai.

With that in mind, have a very Merry Christmas / Happy Holidays where ever you are and what ever way you choose to celebrate. Enjoy, and live & let live..