I got an sms from an internetcompany yesterday: "WIN AN iPOD! All you have to do is answer the question: What color do most people associate with easter?" I might be crazy, but I think I know The Answer to The Question, The Question, The Question.

Clue #1 Emptying Ones Closet
In amidst the snow melting and the buds exploding and my feet getting wet from trudging through sludge I have come to a turning-point, a new level one might say. Never before have I gone this farr and therefor the discovery of how clear the air becomes once one has emptied ones closets of all dusty skeletons was even more amazing then one would expect.

Clue #2 Doing what you like and thinking of it as fun.
I've started practicing. This might sound dull, but it's almost as ground-breaking as the skeleton-discovery. What has happened? Suddenly time flies. I can easily spend two or three hours in a practice-room, dancing, doing my yoga and odd little singing-exercises, practicing poly-rhythm. And still you haven't counted the hours I spend saying ping while my guitar says pong (also called Tara composing). And the key: I actally enjoy it.

So, what does this sum up too? In this occasion of

Clue #3 The Hitch-Hikers Guide to the Galaxy

hitting the silver screen April 29th I will now reveal for you not already enlightened people not only the answer of the big easter-question, but that really big one, "The Question", The Meaning of Life, the Universe and -uh- Everything. It's not yellow, it's 42. Just give it some time. Some day we will all be 42, and after that it can only go up-hill. And you know it might actually not be that dumb. I actually, no kidding, found 42 as key number in The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying.

Jeg bor sammen m/en mann. Han heter Børre. Når et rør går tett stiller han opp og kimser ikke av å tilbringe lørdagskvelden sin m/å pusse på rørene mine. Han bor ikke i sengen min, ikke en gang i leiligheten, men i leiligheten over og jeg nyter lyden av de myke sokkelestene hans mot golvplankene som utgjør taket mitt. Men så - for en måned siden - dukket fremmede lyder opp. Først menet Åslaug å ha hørt musepiping i taket da hun dusjet en morgen, men de neste dagene ble vi enige om at noe større og langt mer dyrisk romsterte i etasjen over oss. Mysteriets tid var kommet. Jeg mente, som en naturlig antakelse, at det selvsagt måtte være en hund. Åslaug på en andre siden mente bestemt at det var ei høne. Men hvis nå dette var en hund? Skulle den ikke luftes? Børre er da en human mann!

Børre er skilt, men da jeg kom hjem på lørdag stod han og eks-kona på trappen m/en bylt i armene. "Hils på Oscar, skilsmissebarnet vårt!" Og der var mysteriet er løst. Oscar er en gris. En vaskekte stuegris! Stor, rosa og m/lange, kvasse, sorte hår. Og så stod vi der da. Meg og Børre og eks-kona. De så på meg m/et sånn "skal-du-ikke-klappe-grisen-vår-type-blikk" og etter en pinlig lang pause stakk jeg votten min fram og strøyk den over nakkehårne. "Han er veldig mennesklig, ser du. Litt sky" Så stakk Oscar hodet inn i nakken på Børre og gryntet.