I find it utterly alarming how many hits I’m getting via google searches for ‘Icelandic sluts’, ‘promiscuous Icelandic’, ‘Icelandic teenage sex’, etc. In fact, in the time it took me to write this post, one came through looking for ‘iceland, women, sex’. [Hey, punk! Go hump someone in your own neighbourhood!]

So many pervs out there who think Icelandic women or girls can provide some kind of illumination in their sad sad lives. Who knew?

Of course I attribute this to my Oprah and sex post. I just hope these dorks are equipped with enough grey matter to actually read and understand what is written there.

My friend G. got married today. Lovely. Second marriage for both and for once I truly believe in this one. They’ve learned the important lessons and are ready to enter into a union with eyes wide open. What more can you want?

EPI and I returned home to flop on the sofa and veg over Eurovision. Despite the collective Icelandic spirit being like a deflated balloon as a result of last Thursday’s elimination, the two of us actually managed to whip up some enthusiasm. EPI was rooting for France; I favoured Moldavia because they had an energetic rock song [not your standard sappy Eurovision fare] plus an old granny onstage beating a drum, complete with babushka-style clothing and gold teeth. Precious! Also, both of us were sort of on the side of Norway because they dared to do something different, what with their Kiss-style glam rock and whathaveyou. When it came to the voting, however, the entire Icelandic telecommunications infrastructure must have crashed because there was no way to get through, neither on our home phone nor the cell phones. [Told you we enter into it with gusto]. EPI managed to get through in the nick of time to cast France the one vote it probably got from this part of the world – they didn’t do too well, poor dears. In the end Greece took home the trophy and I suppose it was well deserved although honestly, my sense of judgement sort of takes a vacation once a year when Eurovision rolls across the screens.

It was pretty obvious, though, that this year Big Percussion and Folk-influenced songs were the order of the day. Which has the Icelandic pundist quipping that next year we should send Steindór Andersen, who does this particular Icelandic form of singing called rímur – an epic song or poem that is chanted or intoned in a very, shall we say, ‘unique’ way [sort of a drawling monotone]. Somehow I’m not sure it would be a hit with the general Eurovision audience. And as for other folk-oriented traditions in music… well, Iceland doesn’t really have any. I mean, this country didn’t even have proper instruments until a couple hundred years ago, and there certainly were not many places for dancing, what with the long, dark winters, the cramped living quarters, the struggle for survival. No – the Icelanders were concerned with things other than carving out a musical tradition. Which in turn means that we’ll probably never win Eurovision. Sniff.

Brilliant sunshine and bloody frigging cold. That damn northern wind has decided to move in on us for good, I fear. Current temps are 3°C and the sun came up at 03.53 and went down at 22.58.