Northern exposure.

I made this Moomin Björk for an article in Grapevine. It was fun to have a license to do the moomins. I've always liked them.

We just played a benefit show this evening. It was for a little kid that has Leukemia. I never feel like I do anything for anybody so I like to be able to help someone. I hope he and his family liked it. I had fun.
I'm at a hotel in Akureyri watching CSI, sort of, and playing a computer game. I would like to call it multitasking but to be honest I don't think watching TV and playing a computer game while blogging counts as multitasking. I bet you have to do something productive to call it that.
I hope the flight tomorrow will be less bumpy than the one this afternoon. I don't like reflecting on my life more than I have to.

When I was a kid my parents decided to drive to Akureyri to go skiing. I was ten and it was in the dead of winter. On the way back, after an almost nice weekend(I'll explain in a little while.)... where was I? Oh yes, on the way back, it started snowing. The snow flakes grew larger and larger and there was always less space between each flake. My dad kept complaining that he couldn't see anything. We were in a mini convoy with my uncle and his family and a third car I can't remember. As we drove slowly through the thickening snow storm I started worrying about my life. I sat in the dark, stared at the snow and thought about the end and how it was getting near. I even chose a photograph for my obituary. I can still remember the photo I chose. We ended up staying at some hotel or motel. I find it amusing that most of my memories are not of me being a blissfully happy kid but about a worried and almost morbid small old person. I even talked like an old person because I spent so much time in my mother's weird amateur theater group where all the plays happened in the olden days. (That is a long chapter and story for another time.)

I mentioned the weekend being almost nice. This was mostly thanks to my horror of a cousin. Two years older than me and a misbehaving creature. I sometimes suspected him being a full blown psychopath. During visits to my uncle's house my mother used to check up on me because my cousin had a habit of beating me up for no reason at all.
Anyway, during that dreaded weekend I was sitting in a ski lift with my cousin and a puny little kid around my age. I can't remember who he was but he was probably the son of one of my mother's yoga vegetarian friend.
This kid kept complaining about his fingers being cold. Through his chattering teeth he complained in the queue to the ski lift, then he kept at it in the lift. We were halfway up the mountain when my cousin suddenly turned to him and shouted: " I'll help you get warm by cramming your fingers up your ass and sew it shut!"
If someone would write a book about my cousin, it would be a mix of Catcher in the Rye and Darkly Dreaming Dexter.