Hello! And goodbye!

Hello, every beautiful one of you out there! Awfully sorry that posts on this blog have become rather.. rare. I've been working, sleeping, drinking, laughing, sleeping some more and getting ready for China. I'm leaving tomorrow morning, and can't waiiiit.

I promise though, (pinkie swear!), that I'll be a #1 Awesome blogger of the world when I get back. And when I'm not eating things I probably don't know what is, at a place I most probably don't know where's located - I'll even try to take some pictures. Gonna be awesome, promise. I'll see you in a little less than two weeks. Hang tight.



And oh, while I'm all energetic and high on life: thank you, everyone single one of you, that reads this blog. And for those who comment aswell: I'm sending you virtual kisses over the net. It's heartwarming to see how people keep visiting, even though I've been too busy to actually blog. I like you, yum.

Caffeine with some extra caffeine on the side, please

....ah. Forget all I ever mentioned about not having to inhale crushed coffee beans dipped in Red Bull anymore. I forgot that I am a career woman; busy, busy, busy.

Haha, naaah. I'm actually just standing around at shipping arrangement, smiling at business people and showing lost men in suits where they're supposed to be. "Champagne to the right, boats to the left, enjoy!" Could get your money in far worse ways, I'd say. Well, then. I'll snort a box of coffee powder and run to work. Toodeloo, beautiful people.

"Where they go hardcore, and there's glitter on the floor."

Ah, summer! I'm finally done with my last exam, six hours of my life I'll never want to talk about again, and I'm not yet grasping the feeling of not having to study, not having to concider injecting coffee into my arm to make it more efficient. Aaah.

The past few days have been wonderful; I've been drinking cava, eating strawberries, running down the streets with my friends while making dinosaur sounds and in general dancing around like a idiot to silly music. The concept of planking? There have been attempts to grasp it. Jumping on notebooks and school articles? Yes, yes, they've seen tough times these last days. Oh, summer. I think I can like you.

On a sugar high

Thumbs up to the Starbucks-guy that entered my university yesterday, put an indecent amount of ice coffee on the tables and then left. Just like that. A few hours later I discovered that consuming more than three units of the nauseatingly sweet mix of coffee and chocolate milk will make your heart beat faster than a hummingbird's, and your general state of well-being will.. well, go straight to hell. I felt seasick until I fell asleep.

But oh man, the time before I crashed down from my high - I was a super student! Thank you caffeine! Three more days of chasing the bottom of coffee cups and working on those panda eyes slowly growing more visible. Three days - and then my final exam. Teehee.

There is a real life, and it's good

The last ten hours of my life have been spent in a sugar and caffeine-provoced frenzy, with a hint of bloodshot eyes and low speeches primarely made up by swear words and curses. I'm not complaining; I've chosen this myself. But sometimes, it's good to know there exists a life where I can see my friends without panic, books and academia:

Happy birthday Norway - you be so awesome

So much cava, so much food, so many strawberries consumed. But it's okay, it's allright - on the national day of Norway it's actually socially accepted to drink champagne from early on. And then cava is totally accepted as a companion to your brunch, lunch and dinner aswell. Hope you all had a great day, I sure know I did.

Bubbles and giggles are such a great way forget about the upcoming exams one might be frightened by!

Sky blue

The other day, I walked past a really old wrinkled lady, with white hair and a rather conservative dress. And sky blue cowboy boots. I loved it! And I kept fantasizing about why she would wear something like that - because you have to admit, blue leather it not usually what you'd think of when someone says "old lady". I don't, at least.


And, as I walked home, I started to think that maybe she'd been married to a strict man, one that followed the rules and dresscodes of society to the extreme. A perfectionist. And then she'd hidden those boots, (that she'd once seen at display in the window of a fancy shoe store, and just had to buy), in the back of her closet, for years, ten years, more, maybe even fifty. Every time he'd been away on a business trip, because he was a business man of course, she'd taken them out, danced in their perfectly furnished living room for a few minutes, and then carefully tucked them back in at their usual spot. It had been her escape from a life so full of routines, it could kill a man; a life so correct a nun would appear inappropriate. But she was not cruel - neither was he: he treated her kindly, so she could not leave him, people didn't leave husbands that didn't hit them, or drink too much, or gamble money on horses and football maches. And he didn't; he just lived his life, their life, correctly.

No matter how well he followed the rules though, he, as all people will once day, died. No well-groomed hair, no neatly buttoned shirt could help the man when his heart just decided to call it the day. Maybe she'd heard some sounds from his office that day, maybe she's noticed a thump, the silence that followed. But routines were made to be followed, and she'd kept still in the living room, working on her embroidery - a very correct and suitable hobby for a woman with respect for herself. And when she had walked into his office to tell him how dinner was ready, 4 PM as every day, he'd already been gone, far beyond gone even. And as a correct wife does, she kept calm, called the ambulance, put the dinner into the fridge so it wouldn't go bad, and then sat down and waited.


After the burial was done - done in a very correct and normal manner, mind you, she'd gone back home. She'd walked upstairs, slowly, her pink slippers carefully carrying her to the second floor. They'd been there, as always, at the back of her closet, behind perfectly ironed suits and folded socks. The word "correct" seemed to dissolve as she kicked her fuzzy slippers across the room, and let her toes feel the shape of perfectly sized blue leather boots that took care of them. As the jumped down the stairs - two steps at the time - they seemed to know they were out of the closet for good, the boots I mean, and they looked brighter than before, the colour more radiant than when they were new - ten, or was it fifty, years ago. And then, she walked all over the word, the cage labeled, "correct", and let her blue boots carry her onto the street - damn the dresscodes, the looks of strangers, the thoughts they might have! Because right then, she felt so young and free and glamorous, Hollywood seemed dull - she was shining, she was a million bucks and more.



...or maybe she just was a odd old lady with a strange taste in shoes. But I like to think otherwise. I think it's good for your imagination. (And wow mama, where did all these words come from?)

"My ancestors sent a little lizard to help me?"

Ah, I watched Mulan the other day. (Well, yesterday to be precise. But "the other day" sounds awfully much more casual.) And it makes me want to burn all my school books, dance around the fire and become a totally kick-ass Chinense warrior heroine.

Sometimes I wish we could switch between living in two different worlds; this regular one, and then one with more colour, more action and less realism. Things in movies always look so much better than this dull place we're stuck in. But, I guess the trick is to make the "normal" world we live in, become a more magical place. I won't have a little dragon like Mulan, but I guess it's possible to add a little more colour and action no less. Can't be too hard, can it?


This one goes out to my friend Linn. Because I'm sure she needs something to rest her eyes on:


And Blogger.com has been half dead and buried the last few days, so it seems like my previous post is.. gone. Don't know what's up with that.

The holy trinity

Coffee, sugar, music - the holy trinity of goodness that I'll be leaning on this last night. I've fought Karl Marx, I've wrestled the theories of postmodern media consumption; my neck is sore after far too many hours spent in front of the computer screen, and my eyes are tired after scanning the screen for typos and funny words. I'm not pleased - I never am at this stage - but I'm almost there anyway.

Ah, student life. It's charming, in it's own bizarre, caffeine-infused, insomnic way.

Enter: three days of awesome

Good morning, beautiful people! The sun is up, my tea cup full and my heart beating like a black metal drum kit; today, I'm starting my first exam. Media- and culture theory - a three-day adventure of coffee, angst and writing. Or something closely related to that. During the next days I'll giggle, I'll cry, I'll shout and I'll crawl on the floor, of this I am sure. I will however, convince myself that I am in total control of the situation. This will be fantastic!

Please excuse me now, while I jump around my kitchen, enter the cool zone and do the awesome-dance like M.I.A.:

My plan is, if nothing else succeeds, to make a living by dancing like this around the university. Feed me coffee, and I'm up for it.

Sunday secrets

Every Sunday, I visit PostSecret for an update in the love and hate, the anger and funny quirks that people share. Sometimes I just scroll down the page, other days I read every secret like it's the last thing I'll ever do in my life. But I love the concept of the blog. If you've never been there before; now's your chance.

"You and I are just pawns on a chessboard"

Ah. I just watched House of Flying Daggers (Shi mian fai fu), and it's so beautiful I don't quite know what to do next. The costumes are wonderful, the actors good. But the whole visual impact, the aesthetics? I swear - I was squirming, clapping my hands, giggling, shouting, all because it looked to damn good. Hollywood, can you hear me out there? This is why you're just not all that amazing:


If you haven't seen it before: go, rent it, get your hands on it, just go. If you have seen it before; why the hell aren't you watching it again?

I tire of you, I do

Sometimes I tire of all the popular blogs, especially the Norwegian ones. "Here's what I eat", "here's how I look pretty", "this is what I do to keep my body in perfect shape". Jesus. It's always written in such a way that it makes me wonder if there's another accepted way to live your life. When someone has to tell you how to look good, how to dress, how to work out, it's like implying that the way you're currently doing it just isn't good enough.

A semester of language psychology fucks up how I approach texts, that's true. But in a way, I think a lot of the blogs out there manage to fuck things up quite well without a deep analysis of language, implied norms and ideologies.


Image is linked to source.

Seriously people. Sometimes I tire of you.

I can dream, at least

Even though I'm stuck with heaps of books, notes, theories, big words and long sentences, I can at least dream about travelling. And believe me, I do. As the days left before my first exam wither away, the daydreams about other parts of the world grow frequent. Luckily, I can find comfort in the small things aswell; the snapshots from places I've been myself, the movies from places I once wish to go. This one in specific, caught my eye and interest:

You know you want to go there, meet the people, smell it, feel it. I mean, ah, I'm itching to get out of this country.

Being a movie star for three minutes

Sometimes, when listening to a really good song, I like to pretend I'm in a music video. Or in a scene of a fancy movie. Some songs just makes everything seem like a whole other universe; the melody blocks out everything else, the lyrics just.. fit. If not, I make the world fit to it. I create stories to the people I walk past, I give them missions and parts of a play only taking place because the music makes it possible. There's a lot of songs that does that to me - quite often it's solely based on how I feel there and then.

Today, I felt like the star featured in the music video of this song:

Kings of Convenience - Gold in the Air of Summer

Why the weekend should last seven days

This weekend has been the kind that you only seem to wish for, when your mind seems overloaded with academic nonsense and the road leading to your exams seems unaturally long. And yet - Friday came, the sun was shining and a few days off just seemed.. necessary.



Image walking down the street; the scent of flowers mixes with that of the dry road, you close your eyes and the sun makes yellow dots dance behind your eyelids. And it's all just so damn allright you don't know where to jump, dance, run or go. So I went everywhere. To a part of the city I rarely visit, to giggle and spend money on beer far too expensive for my taste - but just perfect there and then. I danced in the streets and I ate cookies in the night. I went to the park to eat strawberries, and I drank wine until our blankets couldn't keep out more of the chill of the night sneaking up on us. And I've met up with a lot of people - fantastic people, funny people, people I've missed and people I see every day. And, and, oooh!

It's just been so damned good I wish I could put it all into a little jar, and look at it and smell it and laugh at it all through the week. Sort of.