Ageism is RAMPANT here in Iceland. It's insane. Some areas have taken to forbidding people under the age of 23 to camp at their campsites. 

We are not talking MINORS here, I can understand how the legal age can be used as a blockade, but people up to 23 years of age. What does this tell us?

23 year olds can:

 vote, be a cabinet minister, can have a gazillion children, own real estate, hold a steady job, have graduated from university, can fly airplanes 

BUT I'LL BE DAMNED IF I'LL HAVE THEM ON MY CAMPSITE!!

If drunken rowdyness is such a problem at your festivals - don't have them. 

If you cannot handle it - stay away from it.

You know it's gonna be a drunken fiesta, don't blaim it on your guests, blaim it on the people who HOLD the drunken fiesta every single year.

I betcha people would say something if people over the age of 40 were not allowed at certain campsites, or people with unequal numbers in their age or whatever. 

A drunken buffoon is a drunken buffoon at any age, and it is unbelievably unfair to blaim a certain group of people for everything that goes wrong - annually - at your own festival.

Shoot, I was aiming for funny in my last blog... apparently sad and pathetic and "should-be-in-a-hospital" was the reaction I got... Oh, well... Anyway, it's a beautiful, sunny, Friday morning and I'm going to a birthday party tonight - and tomorrow night too, actually... Hopefully I can go up to the summerhouse this weekend, and even part of Monday... I would dearly love that, a chance to relax, lie on the beach and read a good book.
Beach, she says? Well, sortof, there is a lake and some sand in front of it, so yeah, beach. You take what you can get in this country....

Ooh, look, see, I'm am an Andy Warhol painting.
Toodles

So. Conspiracy. Yup. Conspiracy. Didn't think I'd figure it out, did ya now?
Yup.
First of all, most of my friends have fled the country. Inexplicably "out of touch", or "fallen in love with or in Norway" (dubious either way) or "touring the States and Europe with a famous rock band" or whatever... those who are not abroad claim oddities like mysterious foot ailments or "can't go kayaking because they carry the Emergency back-up phone for the Ministry of Foreign Affairs". Yeah. (isn't that supposed to be a big, red behemouth anyway?) (calling check-point Charlie?)(a banged up Nokia cell-phone just doesn't inspire confidence, even with the golden chain.)

And then... ahahah... see, it's a BIG mistery, it isn't just me being stuck in my dingy office while the rest of the staff is out cavorting in Creet (is that how you write cavorting and Creet? Probably not. So, my spelling is failing too.) or Barcelona... nope, it's the big Gaya too. The Powers That Be. God, Buddah, whoever controls things around here, Jakob Frímann or some other nefarious character.

In two weeks I have been horribly hung over, like, unusually, can't stand because of the nausea the whole day, hung over, TWICE. I've had my freaky migrane THREE times - once with the nice, new touch of PROSOPAGNOSIA. (Yup, I know big words. And I already complained about that one.)

But, wait, wait, wait... did I forget to mention my allergy, the itchy nose, the itchy, itchy, itchy nose? Itchy?

My freaky bout of exzema (who can spell that, anyway)? Leaving me looking like Mickey Rourke after a particularly nasty fight? Yes, people, I'm talking a shiner, biiiig and red, rashy kind of shiner, keep up with me here...

ohhh... and, yeees, let us not forget the unusally active ACNE...

NO, wait, wait, waaaaaaaiiiittttt for it - BLADDER INFECTION.

CONSPIRACY.
I QUIT.

Monday, Monday, Monday... after a 3 day weekend, I'm having trouble adjusting to being back at work. But, alas, projects await me and my cubicle was feeling lonely without me. Press releases don't just write themselves, ya know. Well, mostly not. My company invited us all out to dinner on Thursday and then we had the day off on Friday... very nice :) We went to the Tower, i.e. Iceland's first and only highrise, currently the tallest building in the country... which now boasts of a very nice restaurant, too.

The morning after was followed by a confusing migrane, mixing strangely with my hangover. The "normal" aphasia part of my migrane was accompanied by a heretofore unknown disability to recognize faces! Thank God it doesn't take too long to pass...

Other than that, the weekend went smoothly and mostly soberly, chilling out with friends etc... must go back to work now... catch you later.