2 weeks to go!

I know I havent updated much lately...Ive been so crazy busy with my exams...I have my last one this Friday...and after that its holidays!!! I cannot wait! -Despite the horrible weather we have...with September temperatures in December, you dont really get that Christmas feeling... I did however get a small taste of Christmas this weekend. I went to a Christmas party with microbiology folks. Interesting experience, but lots of fun! Ive added some pics in the pictureblog...--->

- and will add some more later.

"Geeks R Cool"

A friend of mine, William, recently crossed the line between ordinary mortal and celebrity (kinda) when he starred in a music video. Some of you, atleast the Norwegian part of you, may know who Sergeant Petter is (http://profile.myspace.com/index.cfm?fuseaction=user.viewprofile&friendid=51757817), and if you dont, you certainly will after having seen this one. The video rocks and so does William in it. Stop asking me which one William is...I will get to it in a minute. I was one of the few who hadnt heard much of Sgt Petter (apart from recognizing the name), but after having seen this video I must admit I am intrigued. In fact, I might have to go buy one of his albums...So I guess the video works...since thats the point of videos. -And if it works on you too, its even better. Anyways; here's the video. Enjoy!

Oh, by the way. William is the cute student with glasses (the first one in a close-up frame)

My Mold

I've got mold now on a cloudy day.
When it's cold outside my walls get damp and gray.
I guess you'd say
What can make me feel this way?
My mold (my mold, my mold)
Talkin' 'bout my mold (my mold)

I've got so much mold now the spores fly around.
I'll get allergies the doctor said with a frown.
I guess you'd say
What can make me feel this way?
My mold (my mold, my mold)
Talkin' 'bout my mold (my mold).

I just discovered that my walls are a breeding ground for hairy fungus. Its literally sticking its ugly head out through the wooden panel in my living room...which come to think of it is unbelievably ironic considering that I have just started a Masters degree in microbiology...Not only that, my supervisor wants me to write about toxic mold in peoples homes...I can taste the irony...and it is bitter.

I guess if I play my cards right, I can do the fieldwork in my own apartment...

The guilty pleasure of shameful music

I remember everything!
I remember every little thing as if it happened only yesterday.
I was barely seventeen,
and I once killed a boy with a Fender guitar.
I don't remember if it was a
Telecaster or a Stratocaster
but I do remember that it had a heart of chrome
and a voice like a horny angel.
I don't remember if it was a Telecaster or a
Stratocaster
but I do remember that it wasn't at all easy.
It required
the perfect combination of the right power chords
and the precise angle from

which to strike!
The guitar bled for about a week afterwards
and the blood was sough dark and rich,

like wild berries.
The blood of the guitar
was Chuck Berry red.
The guitar bled for about a week afterwards, but it
rung out beautifully
and I was able to play notes that I had never even
heard before.
So I took my guitar, and I smashed it against the wall!
I smashed it against the floor!
I smashed it against the body of a varsity cheerleader!
Smashed it against the hood of a car!
Smashed it against a
1981 Harley Davidson!
The Harley howled in pain! The guitar howled in heat!
And I ran up the stairs to my parents' bedroom...
Mummy and daddy were
sleeping in the moonlight...
Slowly I opened the door, creeping in the shadows
Right upto the foot of their bed.
I raised the guitar high above my head,
and just as I was about to bring the guitar crashing down
upon the centre of the bed,

my father woke up, screaming: "Stop!"
"Wait a minute!
Stop it boy! What do ya think you're doin'?
That's no way to treat

an expensive musical instrument!"
And I said: "God dammit daddy!
You know I love you...

But you've got a hell of a lot to learn about

rock 'n roll!!"

I was looking for some music for my workout, when I came upon on old Meat Loaf album I have...Its one of those albums you're afraid to admit you love...so you kind of hide it behind some of the more "respectable" ones...Anyway, I put it on and realized I still know pretty much every song on the album. In case you are wondering its the "Bat out of hell II (back into hell)" album and the intro above is from "Everything louder than everything else".

"A wasted youth is better by far
than a wise and productive old age!"

Im not entirely sure I agee with that statement, but the song kicks butt. You can say whatever you want about old meaty, but he can make rock n'roll if he really wants to.

I admit that this is the first CD I ever bought (being 13 or so...), but I still love it...so shoot me.

A female secret revealed

I like to cry...

There. I said it. The cat's out of the bag. No turning back.

I like to cry. -But only if I can choose under which terms the crying takes place.
Example: You've had a long week, work has been a bitch, Uni has been a bitch and all you want to do is hang out and relax with a good movie. Now, any other person might choose a comedy. Gotta laugh to feel better right?
No.
I would choose a sappy chick flick.
Why you ask?
So that I can cry.

There is something cleansing and liberating with a good cry. The more tears you can produce and hence the more swollen you can make your face look, the better you will feel afterwards (-unless you have to step outside in the public eye of course)...And if you can manage to bring forward the sob that starts in your toe and moves up your legs and lower waist, through your stomach and out your mouth in short, deep moans, you've really hit the happiness-jackpot. We're talking a happy-trip better than any drug can induce. A good cry like that is cleansing, but it has to be a good cry...None of that "my boyfriend broke up with me"-cry, or "I just lost someone I love"-cry...-cries that make your stomach hurt for days and weeks and months. Those are awful and no one should ever have to go through those....I am simply talking about the voluntary cries. The cries you will have forgotten 30 minutes after you had them.

A good cry gives a feeling very similar to sexual release and I will bet my ass (if I just had one...) that you can ask any girl out there, -and possibly some guys too, about it and they will tell you this is true. A good cry makes your body relax, and it makes you feel twice as happy about your own situation as you did before you initiated the crying. Why meditate when you can cry?

So now you know guys. The secret is out.

Im sorry girls. I know I am telling one of womanhoods deepest secrets here...but I think the male population needs to know. They need to know so that they will leave us alone the next time we watch Ghost. No more of that "Poor baby"-shit. We aint crying 'cause we're unhappy! We're crying cause it makes us feel good.

So there.

Various forms of the Happiness drug:
North Country
Finding Neverland
Ghost
Philadelphia
City of Angels
Pay it Forward
Brokeback Mountain

Feel free to add your drug of choice.

One of those days...

-”You’re unlucky” is nothing more than a frame of
reference for the lucky, Mr Fisher. You are unlucky so that I may know I am not. Unfortunately, the lucky don’t realize they are lucky before it is too late. Take yourself for instance; Yesterday you were better off than you are today, but it took today for you to realize it. But today has arrived, and its too late. You see? People are never happy with what they have. They always want what they had, what other people have.

Sometimes when all your friends have other plans, and you are forced to spend a Saturday night home alone (yay to single-life...), what you need is a good movie (can you figure out which one?), rain hitting your window so hard you can hardly hear yourself think (if you could hear thoughts that is...) and something good to eat; For instance a good steak with potatoes and vegetables...a white russian to drink while making said steak with potatoes and vegetables, spanish pepper-& olive pringles and a big bag of chocolate...and a bunch of candles to heat up the cold apartment.
A decent end to a blue day.

October 1st

I saw a butterfly today.

First day of October…in Norway….and I saw a butterfly. You gotta admire that kind of stamina and will. That poor larva has probably waited all summer for its wings…getting fatter and fatter in the pupae, before it finally one (unusually) warm day of October broke out of its organic prison, happy and content of its newfound winged life. It looked happy. Poor ting wont get old with this weather forecast…

I wonder if you can be happy enough for a lifetime in one day.

Underwater photography

Don't you just love a good picture? Ive spent the afternoon checking out the pics on a friend's website. He has promised me to add some shark pictures he has as well (Ive seen 'em, and I will make sure he keeps his promise, - cause those are some F'ing good pictures).
I have added the link to the site over there ---->

But just to make it easier for you, I will hand feed it to you right here (on a silver tray even): http://www.gislesverdrup.com/

Enjoy!

Potatoes and traveling

”So…” You say. ”Where the F[insert obscenity] have you been?”-“And where the F[repeat obscenity] is my annual postcard?”

“Well…” I say while moving my right foot vicariously across the asphalt, pushing the gravel on top of it into little piles. “I meant to send you one…but I just never got around to do it. I was too busy.”

-“Im really sorry…” I quickly add.

Im not lying when I say I have been busy. For some reason unknown to yours truly, the summers get shorter and shorter every year. I had so many things I needed to do, - although I cannot for the life of me remember those things at the moment…So you ask “What DID you do?” And I tell you to shut the fuck up (why bother with censorship?) and let me do the talking…or typing…or whatever. I DID work…made some money that I spent on traveling, -which I will get back to later. I moved into a new apartment,-which I guess is the main reason why I haven’t been able to update this mess called a blog. I didn’t have any internet access for quite some time…”But you could have used an internet café or something like that” you interrupt.

This is the part where I slap you with the student newspaper I am holding in my left hand. You look surprised but you let it go.

Yes I could have used a café, but this is where the busy part takes over. When you spend most of your day at work or moving boxes from one side of town to the next, a puter is not the first thing on your mind when you are done….the bed is. Besides…whats the point of updating a blog when nothing new has happened in your life?

“But you could have written another one of those meaningless entries you always write” you say. I just shake my head. You are starting to get on my nerves…

So…back to my summer. The best part of it I spent with my friend Beat (lets just call him Beat to protect his privacy…between you and me; I think he is on the run from the law) and his family. Before I got there however I had a 26h travel from Norway to the US…and on the way I had to explain at least 4 times what a bottle of Aquavit is...(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Akvavit). I also had to convince an immigration officer that I was NOT going to Idaho to marry some potato-farmer and that I was in fact going back to Norway after 10 days. “But there’s nothing to see in Idaho! People don’t go to Idaho…they go to California or New York…Chicago even!” I had to bite my tongue and try not to laugh…Laughing at an immigration officer is a sure ticket back to where you came from…

After a delay in Minneapolis I finally got to hug the Beat and his youngest daughter who hugged me despite the fact that I looked like crap (probably smelled like it too). Bless her heart. Summer couldn’t have started better.

I never saw the immigration officer again…but if I had, I would have told him that Idaho has a lot to offer. You can climb sand dunes and burn your feet. You can look for snakes and other creepy stuff in the bushes. You can go to the horse tracks and win money on a horse that no one believes in (Go Bruneau!), you can fly rockets and loose ‘em in a cornfield, you can go to the drive-in and the Flying M (great coffee) and you can go to Hailey and listen to music and eat at diners.-Even party a little. But most of all you can relax and unwind…forget about the stress that is waiting for you at home. If you’re lucky and get to hang out with people like Beat and his family as well, you’ve really hit the jackpot! The sweetest family you can think of has its base in Idaho…the secret is out.

So its safe to say the immigration officer was wrong. I personally think he should be fired. For most foreigners the immigration officer is the first American they speak to upon their arrival…and he or she should be a representative for Americans in general. To have such an ignorant dork behind the Plexiglas is a shame…I should have told him to get out more often…The air must be pretty thick in that glass-booth. Next time I will hand him a bottle of Aquavit and tell him to come see me in Idaho when he gets off work. Who knows…maybe I can marry him and get a green card...Potato-farmer my ass…

I hope you had a wonderful summer as well. And I promise you next year I WILL send you a postcard.

Bronzing issues

"Summer finally arrived! I still cannot believe it. Not only am I done with my exams for the semester, but as soon as I finished, the weather changed from rain to sun as well! And those of you who live in Norway where I live know that this is a big deal. No one in the world talks about the weather as much as we do here in Bergen. We are used to rain, and so whenever the sun pops out, people fill the streets and you wont find a single available table at any of the outdoor restaurants/bars. We Norwegians know the significance of a cold beer on a hot day. -And we prefer to drink it in company with at least another 3 cold beers."

I wrote this last week...all happy and giggly...But I didnt get to finish it, so I saved it as a draft...And now I dont want to finish it. This is how summer is right now...and how it usually is:



I dont know what I did wrong...but summer seems to have left me.

But I am optimistic! Fortunately I am going away this summer, and from what Ive heard, its supposed to be sunny there...so we'll see...maybe I'll even get a tan! That has been one of my dreams for quite some time...You see, whenever there is sun, I turn pink. I am a firm believer in genes and heritage, and I believe that my forefathers were evolutionary adapted to snow and cold weather. Its not that long ago since Norway and most of Scandinavia was covered in ice...roughly 10 000 years ago if i remember it correctly (that would be about the time Hugh Hefner was born)...and if you live by hunting in a snowy landscape, it will be a benefit to you if you are very pale...So its not really my fault that I am a pale person...its in my genes. My great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-etc grandparents survived during the ice age because they were pale enough to sneak up on dinner....and hence, my genes believe its a benefit to me to be pale. I have tried to convince them otherwise...tanning lotion, sunbathing, tan-colored stockings...but nothing works. I am and will always be a pale or pink person. I guess if I spend a lot of time in the sun I do eventually get slightly tanned...but Im the only one who notice.

I do however think its better to be pale than lobster red. I had this poor girl in the store the other day...she looked like she was wearing a strawberry-red sweather, when she was infact wearing a sleaveless top...and ofcourse the top had to be pastel yellow, just to intensify the red skin. I cannot imagine how painful it must have been to go to bed that night...ouch! Wherever you are my dear lobster-girl. I hope you are doing well. My thoughts are with you.

I have been a lobster-girl myself once. Not a complete lobster though, but partially...chest and buttocks. Dont ask how i managed to burn both my chest AND my ass, but I can tell you as much as it included a deserted beach, a bored boyfriend and a big pile of sand. A burned tush is not comfortable...and definately not sexy once the skin starts peeling...but it was a kick-ass sandcastle! (What did you think we were doing?) Rhodes is a beautiful island, no doubt about it.

In fact, all of Greece is beautiful, and right now I wish I was laying on a greek beach with some greek God-looking fellow rubbing me in with sunlotion...His name should be Marcus....or Flavio...no wait; Zeus... Zeus should be with me right now, rubbing my aching muscles from yesterdays workout...feeding me grapes or something. But alas, Im stuck here, on midsummer night alone with the rain pouring down outside. Maybe I should go out in the rain and dance around the bonfire like everyone else...but no. I think I'll put on a good movie and pop some corn. After all, rain doesnt have to be that bad. It gives you an excuse to do nothing. And no one will judge you for being pale. - You cant get tanned in rain.

I guess the rain can stay. For now.

My granny and Bruce Willis

No, my grandmother is not dating Bruce Willis...If you're an employee of the National Enquirer, you may click the "back" button on your browser now.

However, my grandmother digs Willis. She loves to travel and refuses to join any seniors club because she doesn’t want to "hang around a bunch of old people all day". She has always been into action movies, and her favorites include any movie that has a car-chase involved,- or a big explosion. Now you may wonder how old she is... I could be an 11 year old kid talking about my grandmother who is 40 something in which case this whole situation would not be of much interest. Im sure Bruce Willis has tons and tons of fans that are 40 something...infact, I know he has...but I am not 11 years old. Lets,-out of respect for my dear granny, just say that she is past 65.

Last night I was having dinner with my parents and my grandmother, and after a couple of glasses of wine, she suddenly started talking about Willis. She was telling me what a man's man he is and how tough he looks. Now, I am not someone to disagree about Bruce being a handsome fella, I like the guy, I love his movies (which I have ever since my grandfather told me to watch Die Hard 2 many years ago),- and I figured my grandmother was just saying these things because she had heard me talking to my sister earlier about his upcoming movie '16 blocks' which hits the theaters here next week.

It wasnt until she started talking about one of Bruce’s movies, that I realized she was in fact talking about Willis because she really likes his acting. She told me about this movie she had seen many many years ago, where Bruce was running around on glass...and he was bleeding...and being vulnerable. And she told me that was the moment when she really took a notice to him, - and how she had 'kept an eye' on him ever since. The movie she was talking about was of course the first Die Hard, -to those of you who are from another planet, and this sparked a whole conversation about classic action hero’s and movies. It was eventually decided that Die Hard was the most believable of the big action flicks of the 80s while “the Terminator is of no interest, and Rocky cant speak properly”.

I dont know many people of my grannys generation who love action movies...but Im thinking I should take her to the theater next weekend and watch 16 blocks. After all, not everyone gets to have such a cool granny.

Exam season (not to be confused with spring)

The shattered water made a misty din.
Great waves looked over others coming in.
And thought of doing something to the shore
That water never did to land before.
The clouds were low and hairy in the skies,
Like locks blown forward in the gleam of eyes.
You could not tell, and yet it looked as if
The shore was lucky in being backed by a cliff,
The cliff being backed by a continent;
It looked as if a night of dark intent
Was coming, and not only a night, an age.
Someone had better be prepared for rage.
There would be more than ocean water broken
Before God's last Put out the Light was spoken.

Robert Frost


Yes you guessed it correctly! I am studying for my Oceanography exam...and I am very bored...-and uninspired. 2 weeks and 2 exams to go before I can start enjoying this season called summer. I hope those of you who are also studying, are doing better than me.-May A's flourish!

Ive updated the photoblog with some pictures from the constitution day..that will have to do for now. I have to go be a good student...or atleast try.

Happy summer to those of you who dont go to school. -And dont get lost or sick in India to those who get to travel soon.

Spring and creatures

Spring has finally come to Bergen.

I realized this the other day when a confused and groggy bumblebee crashed into my forehead. Ive always been amazed by bumblebees...their anatomy does not suggest they should be able to fly. But they really are cute...especially right after they've woken up from hibernation. I have no idea how many times Ive had to duck or jump to the side, just to avoid frontal collision with a bumblebee. They fly wherever they want, whether you are standing in their way or not. -Not because they are arrogant, but because they have no idea how to turn.

Wasps on the other hand are vicious and evil creatures, put on the planet to terrorize happy and content human beings drinking lemonade and ice tea in the heat. Although I have to admit Ive never been stung by a wasp...-as far as I know... I still fear them. My baby sister had a nice plan for saving the world as a kid. She was about 2 years old and decided she could de-wing all the wasps. She would pluck their wings off when they were resting in the shadows on the ground in the middle of the day...sometimes she would amputate their legs as well...Surprisingly enough she only got stung once, for which she mumbled; "ouch" while looking at her finger. Tough kid indeed. Although her plan clearly failed, it was a good initiative.

Along with the bumblebees and the wasps, the warm weather also brings out my archenemy. The queen of all feared beings (for me anyway); the spider . And I am at this very moment looking at the mother bitch of all spiders outside my window...Many have wondered why I have such an irrational fear of spiders but I have been through ordeals that most will never experience, and few realize how lucky they actually are in life...I have never been bitten by a spider, I honestly dont think we have many species that do bite in Norway, although I know we have a few, cause my high school teacher told me about a time he got bitten and his hand swelled up...but personally I have never physically been scarred by a spider. Mentally however is a different story.

I was tortured once.

It was my second year at the university. I had zoology as a chosen subject and we were at an excursion that took place over 5 days. I thought it was going to be a nice trip with forest hiking and sunbathing by the fjord, but in reality we were shipped off to a zoology concentration camp...

5 students were packed into one room with one tiny bathroom that had a shower over the toilet. Breakfast was every morning from 7-7.30...and if you were late, you could kiss goodbye to lunch, as lunch had to be made during breakfast. The entire day from 7.30 to 5pm was spent in the field…be that a forest/meadow/salt march etc...which would have been nice, had it not been for all the slave work we were forced to do. At 5pm we would return to the camp, and we (if we were lucky) had 30 minutes to get ready for dinner (imagine 5 students fighting over a toilet shower....6 minutes each). Dinner would end at 6-6.15 and thats when the real torture started. Thats when it happened...what made me so afraid of spiders. We were forced to spend the next 3 hours staring into all 8 eyes of different spiders and draw them and determine species. The first time was ok....the second was ok...but after having stared into the eyes of several individuals at a period of 3 hours each day for 5 days...You will get scarred. You will have nightmares. You will never be the same again...

I thought I liked spring...now Im not so sure anymore. I think what I need is a personal spider squasher...and by that I mean a man.

Happy spring everyone.

http://www.bumblebee.org/

Spring outside my window

*Hangs head in shame*

I just realized that I havent updated my blog in months! Ive been a bad...very bad blogger. My excuse is life. Sooo busy...sooo many things to do...so few hours in every day. Uni has been a bitch, one exam down 2 to go. And this thing called "friends"...has required a lot of attention as well. Good thing I love having the friends-thingy around. Theres nothing like a good party amongst fun people.

I would write something silly and completely uninteresting right now, had it not been for my sneepy eyes and heavy hands...Ive updated the photoblog...and I plan to update the movie blog...and a decent (or at least semi-decent) entry in this one should be in the works...but right now its sleep-time.

Uh oh! Getting sneepy...

Sov godt.

The Revenge of the Trees

So, Ive previously mentioned this lecturer I have…the one who has some minor language problems. She is a wonderful person and knows her stuff, she just has some issues with making herself understood. Today I was attending her class, a class that Im starting to really enjoy, mostly because of all the foreign students, and she was talking about trees and cultivated fields. I have to admit I was very tired…not enough sleep the night before, and the subject was slightly (read: very) boring. In these situations I tend to daydream a lot, and find myself wandering the streets of New York City or skiing downhill a nice snowy slope. But anyway, she was talking about grazing and how animals can affect the landscape, and she got my attention with a very simple but mind-boggling sentence: “When animals graze on trees, the leaves and branches on the trees are left at a certain hate” Now of course I knew right away that she meant “height” and not “hate” but it got me thinking…

What would happen if the trees suddenly became able to hate us?

Would they seek revenge for what we are doing to their cousins in the Amazon rainforest? Or what about the massacre you find in forest areas that are being removed to make room for city development?-or for the paper industry? Can you imagine the terror of having a full grown trunk of a tree chasing you? That’s a perfect Hitchcock horror-theme for you right there.

Ive always thought of trees as wise…I mean…I know they cant reason or think at all, but if they could, they would probably be very wise. Some of ‘em are old…very old, and they could probably tell you a lot. There are redwood trees that are more than 2000 years old! 2000 years of wisdom…I bow in awe.

Imagine the sneaky plans a 2000 year-old wise tree could make in order to catch you…the traps would be impossible to escape. Just look at those trees! They are HUGE! It would be like being chased by King Kong or Godzilla! I say no thanks.

Now that Im thinking about it, they sort of have made a movie about trees…although the movie only included trees, but Im sure you’ve seen Lord of the Rings? Remember the Ents? I might get some LOTR fans on my neck now, calling them trees…I guess they were shepherds of the trees? Anyways…they were kind of scary looking creatures…and I wouldn’t want to piss off one of those…









I guess we are lucky that trees cant hate us…or who knows? Maybe they can, they just cant show it to us…and if that is a fact, we will probably have to face their wrath at some point…Maybe at Armageddon. So I suggest that you all start being nice to the trees. Next time you come across a tree, give it a hug and don’t let your dog pee on it.

Save the rainforest: Race for the Rain Forest

Why cant we all just get along?

Whatever happened to dialog?

My apologies to you all, but I have to get serious for a moment here…

How did published newspaper-drawings of Mohammed the prophet in two small countries in Scandinavia, lead to the burning of embassies in the Middle East? - And a 5 kilo gold reward to anyone who kills a Norwegian, Danish or German soldier in Afghanistan? -A reward that will be paid by a Taliban commander…And are the rumors of suicide bombers in Afghanistan, ready to bomb Norwegian and Danish targets, true? If so the world is nuts…

I am not going to get into any politics here or a long debate…but I couldn’t not mention this. How can any Muslim believe that burning and destroying a country’s property or harming or even worse killing another person is the way to respond to something like this? How can they get any respect at all with that kind of behavior? ‘Cause ultimately, isn’t that what they are asking for? -Respect? I feel bad for the less extreme Muslims living in Europe right now…They might end up suffering for what a few extremists do.

And let me ask you this: If you are Christian, and some country other than the one you are living in, printed a provocative picture of Jesus Christ…how would you respond?

I am shocked. I am sad. I am scared of what comes next.

May Allah/God/Jehovah/(add your preference) be with us.

The demise of my mother tongue Part II

Last week I was ranting about my inability to speak and write Norwegian correctly. Although I still struggle with this humiliating problem on a daily basis, I think I might have spotted a light in the other end of the tunnel.

This light which I am speaking of came to me in an epiphany during one of my classes. I was attending my first lecture in "Scandinavian culture landscapes". Don’t ask me why I even signed up for this class...I doubt I will find use for this knowledge as a microbiologist...but hey, I needed some extra credits this semester…and I don’t mind reading about cows. Anyway, the Norwegian professor was speaking English...or he was trying to speak English. We had several exchange students from Germany and Spain and one from Slovakia or maybe it was the Czech Republic...and I wonder if they understood anything of what he was saying. He was talking about how the farmers would collect the "uraine" (urine) and dung from the animals to use as fertilizer, and how the landscape had changed over the years in all of Djurup (Europe)...intermingled with these words came pure Norwegian words as well as some correct English words.

I remember at one point, after having heard Djurup for the first time, I had to turn my head so that the professor wouldn’t see me smiling...I had a hard time keeping my act together trying not to giggle…but I glanced over at one of the exchange students and she was nodding her head, paying attention to what the professor was saying. And it dawned on me that maybe this guy is me in the future..?-Except that I will hopefully still be a woman...But maybe he is incapable of noticing his mixed language. All the Norwegian words intertwined with the English ones...he probably doesn’t even know! Norwegian words with an English pronunciation, and English words with a definite Norwegian pronunciation...

Its terrifying to get a glimpse of your future like that...I guess there is a reason why time travels are so hard to come by...besides the fact that its still fairly impossible, its also highly disturbing to see what’s waiting for you. Although it was also sort of comforting to see that there are others in the same situation...struggling with the same issues. I am not alone.

This has made me a lot more determined to fight my linguistic demons…

I shall not surrender!

The demise of my mother tongue

-Not to be confused with my mothers tongue...which I believe is in perfect condition.

It has come to my attention that I am slowly and painfully losing what was once known as my native language. Ever since I spent my eventful and highly interesting year abroad (more specifically the land of fat people and hamburgers), Ive had problems with the Norwegian language. I keep forgetting the most elementary grammar and spelling, and find myself writing English words in my otherwise Norwegian sentences at lectures. Of course it doesn’t help that the PowerPoint presentations are written in English, but the professor tends to speak Norwegian. -Well except for the Scottish dude we had a week or two ago who couldn’t pronounce the letter P without making fart noises with his lips. It was hard to concentrate on the subject matter, and I honestly don’t think I can remember anything of those two lectures.

But today I hit rock bottom. I was attending a Norwegian ecology lecture with English slides. I was being a good student, taking notes and trying to hear through the mumbling of the professor, when I tried to write a sentence that included the Norwegian word for pocket gopher. Of course it would have been a lot easier and quicker for me to just copy the slide and write “pocket gopher”, but I decided to write it in Norwegian: “Mulvarp”. I was staring at this word and thought to myself that something was wrong with it…but I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what it was. It wasn’t until my friend, who was sitting next to me, pointed out the missing “d” in the word that I realized I had spelled it wrong. He then proceeded to ask me if I was dyslexic. -Which I have never been, but was silently wishing for at that moment. Now, if you are English and reading this, you are probably wondering what the big deal is by spelling a word wrong. But the thing is; this is a word Ive known the spelling of for years and years…ever since I was a little girl watching cartoons with the little pocket gopher and his buddy Tiger. I realized at that moment that I have to do something. I am not exactly sure what that something is, but it has to be done. I have had too many incidents like this one the past 6 months to just ignore it. How to change this trend though, is to me a mystery. I am reading novels in English these days, my University textbooks are written in English, slides at lectures are in English, most of my emails are in English (except for the ones to my Norwegian friends of course), this blog is English, the movies I watch are English/American, so are all the TV shows…Am I losing my ability to communicate with my fellow countrymen/women? The thought is frightening.

I guess if it gets any worse, I can always move back to the States…

The Glasses

For those of you who've been nagging on me to get glasses; let the party begin! Yes you read it correctly! I finally got my glasses today. I was a bit surprised though to learn that my vision is just minus 0.5 on both eyes...I thought it was worse. But thats a good thing, so Im not complaining. And I love glasses! What a fashion statement you can make with a good pair of glasses! Woohoo!

Anyways, here they are:


Do I look intellectual?

The Hurricane Aftermath

Originally posted: September 26th, 2005

Current Mood: thankful

Have you ever sat down and really thought about your life? I mean, really thought about it? Where you’re going, what you want to do, what you don’t want to do and how you want to do the thing that you want to do? *phew* lost my breath there for a sec…

Lately I’ve been thinking about life…and how every decision you make affects it.-And how easily everything you have can be taken away from you. My plans for this year or for the rest of this year anyways, have already been altered…And there wasn’t much I could do about it. I’m not going to bore you with the details, but I had planned to follow some classes at the University, which got cancelled and now I don’t really have any classes I can take….not this semester anyways. But in a way this might be a good thing. I’m going to fall even more behind on my study-schedule, but it will give me more time to earn money…which I btw spent too much of in NYC. I’ve never been more broke than I am right now. Gosh, I had more money as a 6-year old than I have now…I had a savings account back then. Aaaaah the good old days. Pony tails, no hair on the legs, no worries,- well apart from worrying about the fraggles and whether they would make it back to Fraggle Rock before the mean Gorgs caught them…scary bastards. But my point is; I’m broke. So no school this semester gives me more time to save up some desperately needed money.

However, if I hadn’t gone to the US last year, I would have started my Masters degree right away and I would probably have been done with my education by now…looking for a real job.

I have to admit I’m content with my choice of spending that year abroad. It was good for me, both as a person and education-wise, and let’s face it, it was the best year in my 20-something life yet…but I can’t help thinking “what if” sometimes…

It also makes me wonder about faith vs coincidence. When something happens in your life, was it meant to happen? Or did something go wrong? Were you supposed to be where it happened? I remember reading a book by Stephen King on the issue…It was called ‘Insomnia’ and it had an interesting view on everything. Of course this is King so in his mind coincidence is two invisible bald midgets running around cutting in people’s auras with scissors…but the idea was that faith has a road laid out for us, and coincidence comes along and changes the paths we follow. So in a way we’re all meant to be something, but the choices we make affects what that final result will be. I think I like that idea. It’s comforting to think I have a purpose, and yet nice to know that I myself can decide what that purpose is,- by the choices I make in life. Did I lose you yet?

You may read this and wonder what this has to do with hurricane Katrina or Rita…and it doesn’t really have anything to do with it…not directly. But that disaster has made me think…about how short life is, about how coincidence can kick you in the ass when you least expect it, or even when you do expect it, and about how important it is to live your life as best as you can, and be as honest as you can to yourself and those around you.



Life is short and full of surprises. Im gonna try living mine to the fullest.

The Trip Home

Originally posted July 28th, 2005

Current Mood: relaxed
Current Music: Kaiser Chiefs - Oh My God

I finally got my butt home to Norway. Parents were pleased, boyfriend was pleased to be home again, dog was pleased…I am pleasssssget me back to NYC! No seriously, its nice to be home…but I miss New York.

The trip home was kinda stressful. We ordered an airport shuttle to come pick us up at the apartment in Queens. He was supposed to arrive 1:40pm, he showed up around 2:50…not even an apology…then the ASS (pardon my French) takes a HUGE detour all the way to the Bronx instead of taking the Queensboro Bridge over to Manhattan… When we kindly pointed out the detour he got upset and started arguing with us...telling us that he had to pay a dollar and fifty at the bridge. We then told him that the bridge is in fact free… His response was the following: “Well, yes the bridge is free, but that means it will be full of cars and long queues.” Since our apartment was located at Queens blv (which ends at the bridge), we could tell him that it was in fact not “full of cars and queues”, it was actually pretty empty that day….Geez what an asshole that man was. He picked up a couple of more passengers before he took us to the airport. Fortunately we always schedule more travelling time than we need, so we managed to get to the airport in time, but some of the other passengers he picked up were in a serious hurry…

The flight itself was very comfortable. SAS has comfortable airplanes between the US and Europe. Each passenger gets their own TV screen with movies, computer games and a radio, and they feed you at constant intervals, so the trip flew by in no time (pun intended). (I should get a free plane ticket for that kind of commercial).

When we finally reached Sweden, we were told that our next flight from Sweden to Oslo was delayed, so we were suddenly in a BIG hurry when we arrived in Oslo. Since Oslo was the first time we touched Norwegian ground after having been abroad, we were required to pick up our luggage and take it through customs, and then check it in again…Now imagine doing all this in 7 minutes….The luggage had to be checked in at least 20 minutes before our next flight was supposed to leave…and we had about 27 minutes. Impossible you say? We got our bags last but still surprisingly quick, basically ran through customs (you should have seen the looks on the faces of the Customs Agents…), fortunately we were not stopped…They probably saw our filled-to-the-point-of-exploding suitcases and decided it was too much work and no glory. From the customs area we ran around like confused rats in a maze at the main floor before we realized that the check-in area was upstairs. Once we got upstairs we came to the check-in area only to notice that the line was a mile long. What to do, what to do? 30 seconds to go and about 10-15 minutes of queue…We did the only thing we could do; play German tourists (no offence to Germans out there) and run to the front of the line. I was batting my eyelashes as hard as I could and my boyfriend was playing as desperate as he could and it worked! Our bags however were each at least 20-30 pounds overweight…He weighed one of my suitcases which was about 80 pounds heavy…almost 40 pounds too heavy. I gave him my Im-just-a-poor-very-broke-student look, and he let it pass. Phew!

Ok, so now we have checked in our bags…again, and we have about 20 minutes until our next flight is about to leave. So we hurry through security and out to the gate only to get the following message when we get there: “Flight number [thisandthat] from Oslo to Bergen is unfortunately delayed an hour due to some complications with the crew” Aka ‘we don’t have a damn crew for you ‘cause they are still in the air on their way from another part of the country.’ (!!) I just wanted to cry…

But a bottle of Fanta and a few book chapters later, we were on our way to Bergen. Finally!

It was a real treat to sleep in my own bed that night, after having been a year away from home…

New York City

Originally posted June 26th, 2005

Current Mood: blue

Some folks like to get away, take a holiday from the neighborhood
Hop a flight to miami beach or hollywood.
I’m taking a greyhound on the hudson river line-
I’m in a new york state of mind.

I've seen all the movie stars in their fancy cars and their limousines,
Been high in the rockies under the evergreens,
But I know what I’m needing and I don’t want to waste more time-
I’m in a new york state of mind.

It was so easy living day by day
Out of touch with the rhythm and the blues,
But now I need a little give and take,
The new york times, the daily news...

It comes down to reality-and it’s fine with me ’cause I’ve let it slide,
Don’t care if it’s chinatown or riverside,
I don’t have any reasons, I’ve left them all behind-
I’m in a new york state of mind.

I am going to miss this city...

The Big Apple and the Hairy Pancake

Originally posted June 18th, 2005

Current Mood: amused
Current Music: "I predict a riot" by Kaiser Chiefs

I just have to share this with you guys.

I had the weirdest day earlier this week. I was feeling a little claustrophobic in the apartment, and decided to take on Manhattan by myself for a couple of hours. I left the boyfriend at home and decided to do some birthday shopping for various family members. After a couple of hours shopping, I decided to go to Central Park to relax a bit…work on my tan, which is non existent at this moment in time, and do some people watching. I love watching people…just sit on a bench and watch people and their weird habits. Kids with ice cream all over their faces, upper west side ladies with their poodles walking by, tourists with big cameras on their bellies…they all belong in the park.

Anyway, I was on my way to that part of the park where they shot the kidnapping scene in Ransom (the movie with Mel Gibson). I can never remember the name of that area, but it’s a big open square with a fountain in the middle. Check out the movie if you don’t know what area Im talking about.

As I was walking down the stairs on one of the sides, I noticed a film crew at the bottom. I didn’t want to disturb them, so I decided to sit down on the stairs and wait until they were done filming. The crew consisted of 3 camera men, a director and what appeared to be a woman dressed up as a pancake or a gingerbread man. I could only see her from behind, as they were filming her towards me…meaning they probably got me in the background…She was buying a soda from a hot dog vendor, and they did a couple of takes. I noticed she had this long black hair attached to the top of her suit, and she kept waving it away from her eyes…it looked really uncomfortable in that suit, and it was a hot day.

After a few takes, they finished up and left the vendor, and as they were walking away, that’s when I saw the man. He had been standing behind the vendor out of my sight…Dressed up as a HUGE pink penis…with the balls hanging down in front of him. He had to lift up the balls when he walked, so that he wouldn’t trip on ‘em…and he could hardly walk…he was more jumping forward. You should have seen the penis walk…Anyway, that’s when I realized that the woman was NOT a hairy pancake…

I will never look at a pancake the same way… The worst part is that Im probably IN the freakin’ movie! The next time you find a hair on your pancakes…think of me.

After this whole Woody Allen typed porno movie was done, I walked over to the water line and sat down on a bench. Here I managed to be asked out on a date by a Upper East side art critic…we are talking major snob…in his late 40s, early 50s…wearing a white shirt, khakis and a straw hat…those of you who know me knows how weird that situation must have been…There I was sitting in my black baggy pants and a psychedelic tee…with my messy hair do…and this veeery slow talking middle-aged gentleman approaches me and starts talking about art etc. I was flattered, but surprised that this guy would even find me slightly interesting…I looked like I would feel at home on a skateboard…and this guy would probably feel very at home on a yacht or maybe a golf course. Anyways, like I said, I was flattered, but politely declined his offer to take me to an art museum, and he walked away pretty quickly after that.

It was getting late and I decided to walk down to Times Square and take the subway home. It’s a fairly long walk…but I was in walking mood. When I reached the Ed Sullivan theatre and David Letterman, I noticed another film crew with some spectators in the alley where Hello Deli is. Of course like a moth to a flame, I had to check it out. It turned out they were filming a spoof for Letterman’s show. The movie: Full Throttle with Herbie the love Bug is coming out soon, and they were filming something that was supposed to be a crime scene. Apparently Herbie was stolen and smashed and a police officer was talking to a young woman. I have a feeling this young woman was Lindsey Lohan…but I have to admit I’m not sure. I know she is in the movie…and it makes sense that it was her…But I can’t be sure until I’ve seen it on Letterman. She was a lot skinnier than how I remember Lohan…but we’ll see. It was fun to watch anyways. I will know Tuesday next week.

Holy guacamole! This entry turned out a little longer than I had planned…but it all happened in one day…one afternoon actually. I think its safe to say it was an eventful day…It just shows how much you can actually bump into in one single day in the big apple. I’m gonna miss this city…

UPDATE: They never used the spoof on the show...so Im still not certain who the young woman was.

The Trip

Originally posted June 14th, 2005

Current Mood: still melting
Current Music: Mean Mistreater - Accelerators version

Ok, I said I would get back to my trip, so I should probably tell you about it now, before the heat melts away the memories I have. So warm, so very very warm...

First came LA. Lala-land is big...very big. As we were flying over the city before finally touching ground, buildings were all I saw...buildings and concrete as long as my lenses could focus…I should probably tell you that Im slightly nearsighted…but lets skip that. LA is fvcking big. That’s all you need to know. (Did I just cuss?). The flight from NYC to LA was bumpy with a lot of turbulence, so it was nice to finally get out of the flying tin tube and onto the ground. The bags were collected quickly, and we (which would be my boyfriend and I) were on our way to the hotel. We knew little about the hotel, except that it was located in Hollywood right next to Manns Chinese Theater, you might know it as the theater with all the celebrity footprints and handprints on the sidewalk…geez…you should think celebs had enough common sense to stay away from a newly cemented sidewalk! Anyways we got to the hotel and were blown away! Great hotel! Im pretty sure I almost walked straight into Macy Gray in the lobby one night…she looked the same and sure sounded the same. Pretty lady.

Ok, get to the point, right? We met up with a friend of mine the first day. She is from Philly, and we stalked her to LA…so she had to meet us. She took us to a famous hot dog place, Pink’s, great hot dogs, and a drive through Beverly Hills and Malibu. A great time was had by all. The following days were spent at various locations in LA; Universal studios (fun!), Long Beach (neat!), Santa Monica (ooooh pretty!) and some other places. We walked up and down Hollywood walk of fame quite a few nights, since our hotel was right there, had a stroll at Rodeo Drive (“pretty woman, walking down the street, pretty woman”- love that movie), bumped into a couple of celebs after the Batman Begins Premiere…Liam Neeson has that fatherly hotness over him, and Ive always had lots of respect for Sir Michael Caine, so it was kinda nice to see them in 3D. Both great actors.

After 4 days in LA it was time to move on. Next stop San Francisco.

I simply loved SF! I have to say LA lacks charm…LA is just a huge city with lots of buildings…SF has the charm. We went shopping in Chinatown, had a meal at a restaurant which started very nicely…We were just about to finish our nice Chinese supper, when a huge rat ran by us on the floor. I think its safe to say we didn’t finish our meal, and left the restaurant for good. Other than that we had a great time. Alcatraz was fascinating, the hills in that city are insane! How those cars get over those hills, is still a mystery to me. They can be glad they don’t have to deal with lots of snow during winter…The curved road on Lombard street is a classic, the cable car was too cute and the beautiful Exploratorium, which you might recognize from the movie “The Rock”. Lots of animal life surrounding it. I picked up a butterfly who just sat there in my hand, waiting patiently until I was done taking pictures of it. I could have done the same with the turtles, but I decided to leave them alone.

We also met up with a friend of mine in SF. She and her hilarious boys took us to Alcatraz. We had a great time and I have to thank the boys for their patience…I know grownups can be very boring while sightseeing…That’s why I plan on never becoming one.

By the way, I will always associate SF with Segway…I don’t know how many tourists we saw on segways while we were there…which reminds me. We got to try one while we were in Long Beach, LA.

Anyways, that’s it. That was the trip. And what a trip it was.

Btw, its really difficult to actually fall on a segway...

The Pimple

Originally posted April 29th, 2005

Current Mood: creative
Current Music: Dream on - Aerosmith

I have no idea why Ive created a blog...I think Im just bored...and I like to write..so why not?

I guess this will be the kind of site where I just ramble about...For my friends first of all...and anyone else who might be interested.

Anyways. The pimple.

I woke up this morning with a pimple. And Im not just talking about any pimple...this was the mother of all pimples. The kind you can see from the other side of the street, before you notice the person who sports it. Im talking about the face altering kind that creates an extra lookalike nose in your face. I dont get many pimples anymore...And when I used to get them, I didnt get any of this magnitude...but this sucker had super-size me written all over it. I had felt it coming last night...you just know its gonna be big when it hurts to smile. Twas one of those undergrounders you cant see, but you know its there. Anyways, I had covered it up with toothpaste the night before. They say its supposed to help. Im guessing the person who said that made it up, because he or she wanted to see how stupid and desperate people could get. And desperate I was...

So the next morning, that would be this morning, I got up and took a look in the mirror. There it was...And i was faced with the dilemma. Pop it now and get a nice red scab in the middle of my face, or cover it up with makeup and look like I have a huge wart in my face? I decided a skin colored lump was better than a big red scab. So I spent the next 5 minutes trying to cover it up. [Kanebo facial powder *jingle plays in background* Does the deed!]. I spent the rest of the day smiling at people who stared, aching to go home and pop it once and for all.

So now Im sitting here...in pain. The sucker popped...and there was blood...lots of blood. My wounds will take time to heal...but Im sure I'll be fine eventually.

The moral you ask? No moral...just buy Kanebo...and boykott any circus with animals...aaaaand you might want to ask yourself why on earth you read all this.

Live it up!
~Ski

Incase you thought I have two noses:

Starting over

Some of you already know that I used to have a livejournal, but I have to admit that I have neglected it recently...bad Ski, very bad. I have no excuse other than the fact that my life became a little too boring for my liking when I left the States. But with that said, I decided it was time to give it another try. However, new country requires a new layout of the blog, so here it is; My new Blog (taataaaaa! Trumpets are blowing out eardrums and people are cheering).

I was going to copy my old posts and put 'em in this blog, but I cannot for the life of me figure out how to paste copied stuff into this blog! I know Im pretty green with puters, but this is an issue Ive never had before...sooooo untill then I will have to deal with two blogs.

Edited: Yay! I figured it out! Im not completely stupid after all!!