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Rick Rossovich

My life so far.


layers of meat

Stream of Consciousness Posted on 2008-10-12 02:06PM

Eva made lasagna tonight. Maybe the best one she ever has. She was explaining to Isabel that a kilo of cow is necessary for a large glass dish. As she was cooking it I was scraping six layers of wallpaper off the entry of Izzys Flat. I put a thin layer of plaster over the entire wall and then a half hour later scraped the paper off like wet skin. A Centurion Exfoliation so to speak.

Anna Britta lives upstairs, she’s about 90 and has lived here more than 75 years. If she complains about any noise from the renovation I’ll graciously offer here a complimentary exfoliation. She’s a sweetheart really and is full of piss and vinegar. I brought her some Blueberry pie but she wouldn’t open the door. Eva went back later and knock as well, then she looked through the mail slot and talk about lasagna, her place so full it was layers of time. A neighbor thought she was dead in there a couple of months ago so they called the Fire Department and they broke through the upstairs window on the street. It was a scene, glass everywhere! She wasn’t home obviously or dead. They couldn’t get through the front door because the association, which is the individual owners of all these 34 apartments chose Italian made security doors that are similar to a bank vault. Morons! People are so afraid here in Stockholm. The doors have zero charm and in fact the handle broke off of Izzys and Eva was momentarily trapped in the apartment until she figured out that she could escape via the balcony door.

My neighbors and I are part of an association that’s called a Foreningen. We make all our rules and keep our building in check. I don’t live here though, my two kids do. I just paid for it and created the spaces. Check-out Roy’s Studio on HGTV in America. We did a show about it. That design/build took a few months and has been some of my best work.

Isabels place is turning out equally as well but different. She’s a beautiful young woman and that’s why I put a bench seat in the shower. My Swedish plumber thinks I’m crazy of course.

It’s all about layers. just use enough meat.

I don’t know who is reading this. I’ve only told Bruce and my neighbor Annette who has the farm next to ours. She’s a famous Landscape Architect who lives in Amsterdam and has the farm to escape Holland. Funny thing, she won’t talk about gardening and that’s all I ever want to talk about. At least to her, just to provoke her. She gave me some beautiful plants and bulbs though this year and Hein, her husband put about 50 small fish in our pond as well.

I think I’ll alert Vince I’m writing this so he can have another activity while he lays in bed with 6 dogs. a cat and some type of bird I think. He’s my acting coach. I never train though and I’m out of shape obviously. Vince is 80 this year. Time to exfoliate! Actually it was always about stripping away the layers in Acting Class. Getting to the meat was the trick.



Shrine update, don’t pop the balloon

Stream of Consciousness Posted on 2008-10-12 05:27AM

The makeshift Market Meltdown Shrine has been altered and it doesn’t bode well. The Giant Banana that I had dressed in baby and doll clothes was stripped bare. This was no easy task as the clothes were actually pulled onto the banana and wrapped with a coiled bicycle lock to the steel downtrend sign. Someone managed to leave the banana undressed but still coiled. This tells me that the markets still haven’t found their bottom. In a true capitulation someone would have peeled the banana and eaten the stuffing. Monday might be another selloff but another way to look at it is the banana is still ripning. I hope someone eats it before it falls much more.

Speaking of Fall, Eva and I walked up to Kronobergs Parken and were treated to an amazing display of color. The park is also a good option if you want to watch dogs drop turds or kids scream. Somehow on the way a purple balloon blew into my arms. Some hidden meaning I haven’t connected yet. I carried the balloon for close to an hour before I spotted a small girl out of the corner of my eye running towards me and nearly into traffic. She was mesmerized obviously by the maniac with the balloon so I calmed her mother and explained that Purple Balloons just look like balloons to dogs because they are color blind. She was amazed, she didn’t know. I gave the gasbag to the little girl and warned her that it could pop and then it wouldn’t look like a balloon anymore. She didn’t care, she was busy talking to it.

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Talk about gasbags.

This is my first October in Sweden in 25 years so I’ve never had the experience of the almost liquid color of the Maple trees. It’s saturated and the light is so pure.

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