Success is a kind of tea bisciut

I seem to have approached 'hunt for success' from the wrong angle lately.

It's apparently a kind of a tea biscuit, and not too difficult to produce either.

Check out the recipe for success here

but still, I must be doing something wrong...

Seems to be too many things in the bowl, things that do not mix well...and suddenly I realize that the recipe is in French and I don't get what I'm supposed to do now.

Being the good friends that he is, Malo sent me this auto translated version to help me get success.

And now I am surprised that I have ever had success with anything. First, you need to mount a couple of farms (preferably tight ones, if you can get your hands on such), then you put your pacifist thoughts aside and hand out a thorough old-fashioned thrashing.

It's not all muscle work though. No success without mi-mi lotion!

I assume it is something you can easily get your hands on if you live near a woodoo marked.

I don't, however, so I'm afraid it will be a while before I'll get to taste sweet success again:(

Meantime, I will have do do with this picture of success.

After Nosferatu fish and train transvestite service one want more

Two days after returning to Denmark I start wondering how to escape again:)

Not that I am particularly sad about leaving the tense heat, the packs of Jabba the Hut-like men hunting for local female company, or the worrying abundance of good whiskey in Thailand.

However, experiences such as Nosferatu-like fish, train transvestite service, and a band of marching kids in chicken costumes playing Smoke on the Water on tuba...well, they sort of call for more.

And magically, today I landed a deal that will cover the expenses to go to CHI in Boston this April.

It's time to go back to visit the Mr Sipowicz-clone I stayed with last time and maybe get invited to meat ball galore at the 'Itailan/Polish citizen of the year'-party with the Elk Brothers once again. Hooray!

Using cannabis cleverly to boost webshop UX

Hmm, after having a bit of time off after the defence I wish I had petty problems like making kick-ass robot cakes.

But, alas, for now I am stuck in reviewing Hell with no other distractions than skype, facebook, twitter, flikr, youtube, a few cool tech blogs and a newspaper. But it's still only 4pm and a particular evil review paper is staring at me from across the room:(

While avoiding it I came across this lovely film about an excavation of an Ant colony and immediately got the desire to go on excavation again. On top of that I got a paper on technology in archaeological fieldwork in the mailbox, and I start to wonder if it's a sign to go back to hard manual labour?

Hmm, maybe I should pack the old Lara Croft equipment for my Holiday in Cambodia and save shopping galore for later. We could do with another cranium lamp in the house, and I am sure Cambodia still offers archaeology to fulfil that exact wish.

Another career opportunity has also knocked on my door: I got some electrical stuff that I ordered online, and while many webshops put a little extra something in your package to make the shopping experience better, few actually know what works (UX people should pay extra attention here).

For example, my usual seed provider (you know: vegeables, flowers and such) always include a tiny bag of candy. Really tiny, really hard and probably really old (but not old enough to get the old archaeologist heart pumping:). Now, this new provider of elecrical supplies included.....a tiny bag of cannabis seeds(!)

Yes! Not pulling any legs here! (and if SonyE hadn't kidnapped my phone I would document it).

So I guess that if archaeologist/light designer fails I might make it as the village's first (?) drug dealer.

...oh, endless opportunities awaits:)

No more bribes untill I find Max and Greg on DVD

Today seems to be International Hooray for Obama day. Twitter is glowing, Facebook is glowing, fantastic.

On top of that - or maybe because of that? - I managed to get an extended deadline on the next games chapter and this time I was too clever to offer bribes such as robot cakes.

Last time I ended up covering myself in frosting and some sticky green apple-stuff. Never thought I should say this, but I really miss my Max and Greg video, featuring two gays in a gay kitchen giving tips on making really gay cakes. It was amazing, but now it's gone. Like VHS. I'm sure those guys could have shown me how to make a proper 3D robot cake on wheels and all, like the one below my lame attempt to 'robotify' ready-made brownies .

Not knowing how to make a cool cake that would make it to Sweden and having created a birthday cake that ended up looking like Jabba the Hut a couple of days before, I googled 'robot cake' for inspiration. Bad idea. Really bad idea.

Earth is apparently swarming with people who have nothing better to do than go berserk in cake decoration.
Some appear more like a social commentary, like this amazing Slayer cake that suggests a completely new and sweet side to metal fans.

Hmmm...what a wonderful idea for a theme cook book; Metal cooking.

More dirt and pain loving wedding planners on BBC, please!

Not having the energy or focus to actually write a decent post now, I will refer to my friend Christina's post on the Inner Man. We discussed it shortly Friday night over some bison vodka and Inuit throat singing, and concluded that inner man is a weird personality trait of (at least) female archaeologists.

Not working in archaeology any more, but having done my share of brick laying and dirt shovelling this weekend, I have too had a recent encounter with the inner man.

Oh, now I made myself thinking of being on excavation. I do miss it sometimes. Staggering around with a fully loaded wheelbarrow in the early morning...it's a certain kind of magic. And pain. And level of dirt under your fingernails. And cuts and bruises. And solitude.

I wonder whether choosing archaeology as your field of work is actually making a living out of your inner man? In HCI research it's not particularly useful. And would it not be difficult to live side by side with your inner man working as a wedding planner or a personal shopper?

Hmm..an idea for a fun future experiment or BBC TV series.

Seriously wasting time online...and then The Dawn of Projector Enhanced Flashing.

I was supposed to spend this week's peace working hard on the thesis. I managed to open Word and look at it...twice.

Seriously disappointing even for me.

To kill time I've surfed all sorts of wacky DIY/arts/tech pages and have been feeling stressed with all things I could do if I had more time and skills.
But then I stumbled over a 'Diaper cake to hide the Champagne' (diaper cake, WTF?), a 'cozy carpet made out of old t-shirts' (decorating with t-shirt patchwork?), and 'bird house made of chopsticks' (...?!?) and suddenly realized how in sane (though no doubt creative) many DIY'ers really are.

Which is why it almost came as no surprise when I found a flasher who apparently has tossed away the cotton coat in favour for projector enhanced flashing (and yes, he is butt naked at the picture...pure naked skin , duct tape, and car battery).
I honestly don't know what to think about it...I hate flashers as much as the next sane person but it looks actually pretty funny. I'm wondering if his incentive is turning a perv hobby into some kind of tech/art performance to avoid trouble with the law?

Exit cucumber Frog, welcome raspberry caipirinha and Pompon Finkelstein

Okay, it was not literally for ever, the cucumber frog. It sort of started smelling after a week in the fridge...
So, now I'm frog-less again and trying to cope with it.

Nothing is really happening - Kaare is away somewhere, it's 8 pm and I'm still fiddling around with the thesis. It's okay really, 'cause I am accompanied by my second raspberry caipirinha and some great old Buddha Bar tracks I dug up.

Kaare is going on holiday next week and I am starting to wonder how my health will cope with that. Seem to remember how I wrote my bachelor's thesis locked up alone in my flat with some bottles of Whiskey, a tiny mountain of cigarettes and some Swedish Knäckebröd.

Well, it went surprisingly okay that last time, so there is no need to freak out or go shopping for real food.