Sjokoladepiken

Necessity

Wed, 13 Feb 2008 12:21:58 GMT

Can't... Breathe.....
Must... Type......

Considering the monumental amounts of dreadful that have managed to accumulate in the past week and a half, I actually have to say that things are.... not too shabby. You know, seeing as The Boy moved out, I'm so broke I've had nothing but ramen noodles and musli to eat for two weeks, most of my best friends have fled the city (or even the country), and Macbeth decided to commit Harakiri for no apparent reason - and take the last ten years of my life with him (the bastard!) - I'm in pretty OK shape. I mean, I haven't been hit by a truck yet (a real one, that is - the proverbial one, oh, about five times), both my grandparents are still alive; there is hope, I tells ya. I'm sure I put it here somewhere....

Seriously though. Nothing of much interest has been occupying my mind lately, but that isn't necessarily such a bad thing. I am learning to lead a life devoid of any kind of audio-visual entertainment, nutritious food or alcohol, which is turning out to be an interesting experiment. School is fun. I'm meeting friendly, smart, interesting new people, though of course also the occasional oddball (I like to think they keep my sane, even if only by comparison). I've finally got my glasses now, which means I'm studying again. I'm reading novels for the first time in six months. I'm manageing, somehow, to keep my shit together. And that isn't much, but it's something.

On again, off again

Thu, 07 Feb 2008 16:35:10 GMT

Yeah, so I thought I'd just pop in and say hi, you know, see how you were doing and all.

I have top-notch excuses for my absence, but now at least you know I haven't croaked it or anything.

All that pop

Fri, 18 Jan 2008 22:11:28 GMT

Top five things I'll miss about living with someone:

1) Waking up next to (or occasionally draped across) someone warm, soft and familiar, feeling protected and like I could just stay there forever (without anyone minding).

2) Having a reason to cook fancy dinners, keep the flat tidy and dress up on school days. Having someone to spoil, and occasionally, someone to spoil me.

3) Having someone there to share funny and interesting quotes, songs or YouTube-clips with when we're both sitting with our MacBooks in the evening.

4) Our enormous joint collection of books and CD's. Hundreds upon hundreds of marvellous pop recordings, and what probably amounts to three gargantuan bookshelves full (even though we only have two).

5) Absolutely everything.

Boys don't make passes...

Wed, 16 Jan 2008 21:56:23 GMT

These first few days of school have been almost perfect. Not in that 'skipping through fields of wildflowers with all my new-found soul mates and a copy of Waiting for Godot in my back pocket' kind of way (for one thing, I don't really ever have pockets), but more in the sense that I kind of have a feeling as to where this is going, because there has been a bit of everything already. I've met some lovely people, at least one of whom I'm sure I'll make great friends with, but also some of those who remind me why I need to toughen up a bit and not be so bloody nice all the time. Which is a shame, I suppose, but I'm coming more and more to terms with it: Some people just aren't worth the energy.

This thought was hopping about in the back of my head when I was picking out frames for my new reading glasses the other day. Yes, that's right, I am not the genetic 20/20-visioned miracle I thought I was after all. Personally, I don't consider this to be a disaster, because ever since my mum got her new frames a few years back I've actually kind of wanted glasses. I mean, they suit me, and I'm a sucker for anything that can so completely transform my look with little effort, like lipstick, or a nice hat. Anyway, the first frames my optician suggested fitted me perfectly: they were a gorgeous colour, the perfect shape and made me feel like a princess with a tiny Chanel camelia detail on each side. Unfortunately, that was exactly what was wrong with them. That whole 'sweet, fragile' thing is so very last season, dahling. My single New Year's resolution this year is to gather all the threads of my tattered self-confidence, and try to stitch it back up into a person I actually like being. And that is going to take more than just a camelia.

It took me a week but I finally found them, and they're so stylish it hurts.

Moreover, these will help prevent shortsightedness in the future.

Which is just too ironic.

Firsts. Again.

Mon, 14 Jan 2008 23:16:05 GMT

There is a strange sort of optimism connected to the first days of every term. I don't know exactly what causes it. It may be the first lectures of exciting new courses, books that make that first cracking sound when you open them, seeing old friends for the first time since before exams or making first impressions on new ones. It may be that fresh feeling of cleverness that always accompanies the promises you make to yourself about great working, eating and socialising habits. It may also have something to do with the fact that this early in the term, no-one is 'worse than'. You still have a shot at becoming one of the good ones, and more often than not a genuine hope that this year, you'll make it.

Whatever the reason may be, I'm going to enjoy this feeling for as long as it lasts.

Remove

Thu, 10 Jan 2008 00:07:49 GMT

I cannot recall the last time I was happier for a year to be over. I have finally broken up with 2007. Now all we need is closure.

It started out well enough. Life was good, or at least it was stable. I hated my job, my boss, occasionally myself, but more often than not the sheer predictability of it all would be comforting (though of course also frustrating). Summer came, and I spent an amazing month in Germany catching up with my old friends, Adventurous, Optimistic and Fun-Loving, whilst filling up all the holes which my mundane 8-to-5 job had left in my soul with copious amounts of culture and caffeine. Then came autumn, and the structure I had spent so many years developing - myself - fell to the ground.

I have not cried so much in years, and must have saved a fortune on eye make-up remover. The break-up was followed by a breakdown (you know, for the sake of balance). I lost it, and by 'it', I mean 'almost everything'.

In many ways I'm still stunned by how quickly it's all happened. I have to start over now, and I am not ready at all, which means I'll have to do what I despise most: 'just' take the plunge and see what happens.

And so 2007 came to an end. Always true to form, I got my grand finale of heartbreak and utter humiliation on New Year's Eve, but by then I was too exhausted to look back. It's 2008 now, and I got a ridiculously expensive make-up remover for Christmas. How's that for a sign?

So, 2007, it's over. There is no more 'us'. And it's not me, it's you. Goodbye.

Cheap and easy

Tue, 04 Dec 2007 20:16:21 GMT

Reply to this post and I'll

1. Tell you why I friended you.
2. Associate you with something - fandom, a song, a colour, a photo, a word etc.
3. Tell you something I like about you.
4. Tell you a memory I have of you.
5. Ask something I've always wanted to know about you.
6. Tell you my favorite user pic of yours.
7. In return, you must post this in your LJ.

Ugh, so much stuff going on at the moment. Two more days, then freedom. I'll be singing along with David Hasselhoff in no time.

Proud

Thu, 29 Nov 2007 14:50:24 GMT

I'm in study hall. I'm never in study hall.

Hours: 8
Espresso shots: 5
Pages read: 200
Breaks: 1 (very) long, 2 short.

I knew I had it in me somewhere.

Hibernation

Tue, 27 Nov 2007 22:04:41 GMT

If there is such a thing as a previous life, I'll bet I spent mine as a bear. I notice it every autumn: I spend the whole season trying to control the urge to EAT! EAT! EAT! And then, around this time of year, all I want to do is stay in bed under a warm, fuzzy duvet and sleep. Or, you know, do other things that one does under a duvet - read, cuddle, blog - so long as it doesn't involve anything even remotely resembling foot-floorboard interaction.

But, as it happens, I have a life. One filled with things that need to be done, like exams and coffee dates and wondering whether or not my bum looks big in this (the answer usually being 'yes, but in a good way'), activities with which hibernation does not mesh.

I really have no idea where I'm going with this, but I'll tell you: This getting-out-of-bed crap had better be worth it.

Goodnight!

Closed

Thu, 22 Nov 2007 23:16:15 GMT

"Failure is always the best way to learn", according to Kings of Convenience. Well it's a bit late for that, don't you think?

I'm not going to stuff your pretty heads full of useless information about my exam, but it did not go well. And now we're done talking about it. My brain is an absolute mess due to frustration, exhaustion, sleep deprivation and possible malnutrition, but I am glad to be finished (in oh so many ways).

Now then, which day is it today, Thursday? Things I Love Thursday, you mean!

(OK, enthusiasm is giving me a headache. Let's just... not do that right now.)

So I can honestly say that I ain't feelin' the lurve for very much at the moment. You'll have to make do with three things, as opposed to last week's ten, because right now I just need sleep. Buckets and buckets of it.

1) I love my computer.
You can see him in the photo in my last post - that's my Macbeth right there. Actually, pretty much my whole life as I know it is in that photo: my favourite coffee cup (the perfect shape, size and design for my tiny hands), my previously mentioned Marimekko notebook (it's very pretty, with yellow flowers on the cover) and my all-time favourite poster (which unfortunately belongs to Arne, and will therefore disappear after Christmas), my Sex and the City DVD box set (no explanation necessary) - this is, quite literally, my little corner of the world. Welcome.

2) I love tea.
Yeah, I've become a tea-drinker again; I keep ending up right where I started, and I'm beginning to think that maybe I really am a tea person. Which is a frightening thought, really, seeing as it would totally ruin my hip urban image.

3) I love my friends.
I know, what a cliché, right? But seriously, these are some patient people! Thank you for putting up with me, even when I act like a self-absorbed child. You know who you are. You're fabulous.

Tomorrow I've promised myself a Macbeth--free day, but that means that by Saturday I'll be practically bursting with amusing entry topics. And if not, I still have to introduce you to Basil, my mutant basil. He's such a charmer, you'll love him!

Now

Tue, 20 Nov 2007 17:27:26 GMT

Astroloboost

Sun, 18 Nov 2007 23:47:01 GMT

I'm sorry, I couldn't quite hear you there, how fabulous?

Study

Sun, 18 Nov 2007 17:40:49 GMT

I'm on my third cup of coffee, my eyes are red, my fingers covered in highlighter stains... Don't you just love that day-before-an-exam feeling?

Actually, it's not so bad. It feels nice to kick my brain about a little, see what it's capable of - usually I'm pleasantly surprised. Right now, though, I'm taking my umpteenth breather of the day to post a teeny tiny meme, courtesy of Ms. Alyndabear. There is always room for a little more self-indulgence, right?

Seven odd facts about me:

1) I have a most uncanny sense of smell.
I'm like a dog: someone's smell can determine whether or not I can stand talking to them for a longer period of time. This is unfortunate, seeing as some of my favourite people have kind of funky smells. My least favourite people, too, often have bad smells. The rancid stench of sweat, age and bad cologne just gave me one more reason to stay away from my old boss as much as possible. I am also extremely picky when it comes to perfume - you can imagine my frustration when my signature scent was discontinued.

2) I do not chew gum, eat liquorice or like any kind of sweets tasting of mint.
After Eights have grown on me (it took a long time), but other than that, no thank you. This is very strange, because in general I dislike very few foods. All the ones I do dislike, though, are in the 'sweets' category. I'm amazed that I'm not skinnier. Someone should ship me over to MIT and have me studied.

3) I prefer skirts to trousers.
This hasn't always been the case, but about a year after I finished high school I lost a ridiculous amount of weight, forcing me to get a whole new wardrobe. I bought a bunch of skirts and only one pair of trousers (which ended up being a bad fit, so they went to the Salvation Army). Today I have three pairs of trousers (two of which I had to buy for choir concerts, and the last acquired entirely by accident last summer). In comparison, I own somewhere around forty-five skirts.

4) My hands are very sensitive to heat.
Whenever I get my coffee in a glass or in a take-away paper cup, I look completely ridiculous, because I have to keep my fingers at the very top of the glass/cup, making it easy to spill and practically impossible to drink. Also, this is the reason I dislike doing the dishes.

5) I have a dark scar on my left hip.
I was ten years old. My family and I were in Germany, at this sort of Water World-ish place with water slides and a bunch of different pools. I tried one of the really big water slides, and got to the bottom, but before I had the chance to come up to the surface the next person - an adult - came down the slide and landed on top of me, so that I hit my hip on the swimming pool floor. It bled like crazy, and I had a funny walk and a purple hip for weeks afterwards. Also, I don't think I've been on a water slide since.

6) The first band I liked was Belle and Sebastian.
If you don't count listening to the Spice Girls, Aqua or Cleopatra in primary school (when you basically listen to what the other kids think is cool), this was my first encounter with outside-of-the-charts contemporary pop music. I must have been about thirteen years old, and I borrowed 'The Boy with the Arab Strap' from the library. 'He had a stroke at the age of twenty-four; it could have been a brilliant career.' I count this lyric as my first love.

7) The sound of the radio puts me in a very, very bad mood.
Having grown up in a house where the radio channel P1, and usually also the TV, was on everywhere, all the time, I now despise the sound of it. In general, low, buzzing background noises without structure (TV, radio, people's voices, someone else's music through their headphones) tend to make me grumpy (and if they don't cease, violent). This may also be one of the reasons why being on campus stresses me out. The intense buzz of people's various conversations is extremely exhausting to me.

Hmmm... Where shall my tag fall today? I think, perhaps, on aeva86, to get her blogging again. And on Julie, of course. And Heidi, because even she must have time for this teeny tiny pathetic excuse for a meme. And on aj_stalin, because she is stuck at home for the time being and needs to keep busy.

Now I'm getting back to my new best friends: my books. I wish you all a lovely evening.

Iron and Wine

Sat, 17 Nov 2007 22:46:15 GMT

This is one of my favourite songs of all time. It really is impossibly beautiful, and deserves to be shared.

Sad news

Sat, 17 Nov 2007 18:23:52 GMT

Speedy, also known as My Trusty Old Dell, is on his deathbed.
Peace be with him.

Performance

Sat, 17 Nov 2007 15:14:22 GMT

I'm not ready to admit defeat just yet, but this doesn't seem to be working out very well, does it? It's the Fridays and Saturdays that are the problem, simply because of the evening activity/tipsiness factor. I'll have to find a way to work around that.

Yesterday night was spent in the company of the lovely Mizz Dee and her posse. Supersoft and Radiostar were playing at Skuret, and I was pleasantly surprised by both. On Supersoft's part, this could have something to do with the fact that the last time I saw them play half the band were half-dead from various illnesses, but yesterday they played (and sang) brilliantly. It didn't matter that they stumbled a couple of times, that Ole (vocals) could barely hear himself for the first half of the concert or that the guitarist snapped a string; they sounded great and the audience had a fantastic time. Surely that must be the most important thing.

(Also, I got to talking with aforementioned guitarist's girlfriend, who turned out to be thoroughly lovely, and who is, to quote Lone, absolutely bursting with baby! I think I touched his tiny arse. I'm not going to tell him that when he grows up.)

Radiostar, too, were surprisingly good. Young, though - they looked more than a little like they were cutting high school biology class to be there - but they had some good stuff. And that singer? Could really sing. I mean, he was incredibly obnoxious, but when he finally just shut up and did his thing he was great. Unfortunately, the songs weren't. Sure, some of them had that bottom-jiggling swing thing going, but these boys seriously need to hire someone to write their songs for them, because this was like 'lyric writing according to the Yellow Pages'. I mean come on, it can't possibly be that hard to write a love song without rhyming 'take the chance' with 'romance'.
Can it?

Other than that, my life is exceptionally dull at the moment. Loads of school stuff, and trust me, you don't want to hear about that - Hell, I don't even want to hear about that! I went shopping (in the name of guilt-free retail therapy) for stationery and cute notebooks yesterday, and it was the definite high point of my school week; it's bad, I tell you. And indeed very dull.

The low point of my week took place at rehearsal on Thursday, when my fear of singing alone in front of people once again manifested itself, this time in the form of unstoppable crying. I don't mean that feminine tears-running-quietly-down-my-face kind of crying, I'm talking full-on violent sobbing. In front of, oh, say my entire choir? Yeah. And I hadn't even opened my mouth yet.

So this is how it goes: I become aware of the fact that I might have to sing - my heart rate quickens - I become short of breath - my whole body freezes up - I can't speak - I notice tears filling my eyes - I become dizzy - I can't breathe at all - I start crying, whilst not being able to breathe properly, thereby making all these horrible, choking noises - I run into the bathroom and sit with my head between my knees until I no longer feel like I'm going to faint. Basically, it's like a small anxiety attack.

And all because I'm afraid I won't be good enough. Every single time. Bet you can't imagine how cool I felt.

On a cheerier note, I have spent a chunk of my not-exactly-hard-earned cash on a ticket to go and see Iron and Wine in January. The last time I saw them was about a year and a half ago, and not only did that concert turn out to be the musical highlight of that year, it even salvaged my love life (my attitude towards music is nothing if not utilitarian). I doubt that will happen again, but I still think this is going to be a biggie. Another concert I'm dying to go to is American Music Club, and I might just treat myself to that one as a birthday present, but not before I know how badly the exams have gone. Then I can at least roughly calculate my February financial status according to the depth of the pit of bad mark depression, and the amount of comfort food and booze I'll need to climb out of it. There is a price to be paid for crappy marks, people. Quite literally.

Seeing as I have an at-home exam in this from Monday to Thursday, then four exams in five days two weeks after that, I won't be able to keep up this habit of vigorous posting, but I promise not to go AWOL. Now I'm going to break in my new flowery Marimekko notebooks and read, read, read for the rest of the evening. Wish me luck.

Things

Thu, 15 Nov 2007 23:06:23 GMT

Things I Love Thursday. Now, I have to clear something up: I totally stole this concept. Specifically, I stole it from Gala. And she does it much better than me, because she has a better blog, better computer skills and more time on her hands. But so what? I'm still going to give it a go.

1) Arrested Development.

I have watched almost all of the first series this week, and it is one of the funniest things I have seen on television.

2) Listening to Mark Kermode reviewing films on my iPod. The reviews are often more entertaining than the films themselves, and having him describe Elizabeth: The Golden Age as 'history as retold in a Duran Duran video' is just priceless.

3) Cream caramel sauce on fruit.

This is becoming an exam-month tradition - it's the one thing I can always make, no matter how few ingredients I have in the house. Cream, white and brown sugar, syrup, fruit. Eat too much and you get the stomach ache of the century, thus an excuse for going to bed instead of studying.

4) Faux fishnet stockings.

I buy mine from Lindex (even though they are terrible quality and get holes almost instantly), and they sex up any outfit in no time.

5) My tall, high-heeled, round-toed black leather boots. So versatile. So comfy. So sexy.

6) The autumn/winter lingerie collections.

Always so classy, with such rich, gorgeous colours and such beautiful detailing, because this stuff is not intended to be worn underneath skimpy white camisoles. Yummy.

7) Pale, rosy skin, berry-stained lips and sleek, super-shiny hair. The ultimate winter look for dark-eyed brunettes like me. I'm enjoying it before hat season starts.

8) Flight of the Conchords - a couple of Kiwi comedians that have made a musical TV-series that can best be described, according to Arne, as "'Singin' in the Rain' meets 'The Office'". Here's a clip:

9) Home-made soup and mashed potatoes. Two wonderful comfort foods that don't score too low on the health-o-meter either.

10) The sunrises at this time of year.

They are so beautiful, and I get to be awake for them. I love watching the sunrise on my way to school, but it's even better peeking at it from underneath the duvet, thinking 'oh, it's still dark out, I don't have to get up for hours yet'. Love that.

Which reminds me, I have to get ready for my date with my duvet. We've been going together for almost a year now, I think it's getting serious.

Bitch

Thu, 15 Nov 2007 17:56:14 GMT

Phonology will not get the best of me. I just hate that I need to study so much to avoid that happening.

So, 'sup people? I noticed you were much more keen on answering questions about your dinner than your personal problems, and I enjoyed your comments - or rather, having you comment - so much that I'll keep my questions on a superficial level for now. Oh, the sacrifices I make for my, what, fifteen-twenty-ish readers? God, how pathetic... Seriously, though: Thanks for commenting. Makes me happy, it does. (See? You blew Troubled Tuesday right there - no-one but yourself to blame, no siree!)

Speaking of Tuesday (again), I've noticed a slight change in my personality lately. I have always been the kind of girl who feels a lot. I listen to people's stories, and I understand their pain, I cry with them, that dress looks great on you, it's OK to wallow, honey, just let it out. 'Troubled Tuesday,' I thought, 'that'll be a breeze!' Well, that was before The Transition. Now all of a sudden I'm this extreme cynic - I'm no meaner to anyone per se, I just don't care as much - who would rather watch endless reruns of '7th Heaven' than listen to one more story about that guy and the mixed signals and that one time at band camp. At least then I wouldn't have to nod in that sympathising, head-tilting 'I feel you' way.

So I learned to say 'no' to people, meaning I finally got to call (off) some of the shots - go me! If I had felt anything at all, I'd have felt liberated.

And probably really, really mean. Because I know I'm one of them, I really do. I can whinge and moan and wallow in my misery like the best of 'em. But there is a fine, fine line between friend and psychologist, and when it is crossed too often I tend to lose the will to be either. Unless, of course, I get paid.

Now then, let's get down to business. I'm not here to be rude about my friends, because I love them, and also because you just don't do that. I had much rather talk about something we can all be point and laugh at, or at least be collectively annoyed by, together, you know, like one big bitchy family.

I really hate that they shut down La Sosta. It pisses me off. I'm not exaggerating, I seriously cannot comprehend why one of Oslo's best - and most popular - cafés had to be shut down to make room for an Internet café. Let's all say it together, just to fully comprehend the stupidity of this notion: An Internet café. Firstly, I didn't even know they made those anymore - the term has a very 90's ring to it, and you know why? Because in the 90's, people used them, they even needed them. Secondly, La Sosta had Internet - free access, might I add - and fantastic coffee. It did not have computers, but seriously, there are not that many square metres to go around in there, you might be able to fit two or three computers in there. I cannot for the life of me understand how anyone could consider that to be a financially sound concept. Finally, I don't believe for a second that anyone living in Adamstuen has any problems whatsoever affording Internet access and personal computers in their own home. Ninety percent of these people have money to burn, and the final ten percent go to uni (which, for the record, is just up the road) where they have online access for free. Now, how many percent do we think will be tempted to spend their hard-earned/-loaned money on 'fifteen overpriced minutes and a latte, please'?

I also hate Time. Yes, Time. I hate the way it's always running from one place to the other, never being able to stay still for even a second so that I can take a break from chasing after it and actually catch my breath instead. I despise Time like I despise other people's children, and life sometimes seems like one really long evening of babysitting. Yigh. Time is what causes me to relate to conversations like this.

It annoys me that my skin is acting out just because of a little weather and stress. From now on, I shall call it Wimpy.

It totally pisses me off that my favourite perfume, Glamorous by Ralph Lauren, has been discontinued. Who are these people, and why are they doing this to me?

As if that weren't enough, I've spent loads o'money stocking up on scent, so that now my shopping budget for the winter is shot to shit. Which means I won't be the owner of this

or these

any time soon.

Sometimes, when I'm too exhausted to be annoyed and/or bitchy-in-the-name-of-wit-and-entertainment, I check out what kind of shenanigans The Fug Girls have been up to lately. They do the whole 'bitching sans personal attacks' thing so well, making their website so lovely, laugh-out-loud funny but not cruel. Yeah, I'm not really there yet, y'know? I do not master the art of looking at this, for example, without at least placing part of the blame on the person inside, and I quote, The Most Heinous Jumpsuit Of All Time. My first reaction is not 'I'm sure there's a perfectly good explanation for this, so I'll just make one up for comfort until I hear the actual story', but rather 'Oh God, did she let her seeing-eye dog dress her again?' But to my defense, this woman is wearing Louboutins. I couldn't not act out, that's sacrilege!

Coffee cools off far too quickly. Someone should definitely do something about that.

Have you been annoyed lately? Of course you have. Why?

New Zealand

Thu, 15 Nov 2007 00:11:28 GMT

Yesterday I was supposed to feel troubled but didn't. Today I was planning this week's bitchy break, and instead? Nothing but, to quote Kris, 'peace on earth and goodwill toward men, even the ones who don't call when they say they will'. This is almost certainly because I hardly spend time with people at all these days, so I'm not given much to bitch about. Well that's how it goes, isn't it? Bitchiness is born from frustration caused by other people's stupidity, and one's need to distance oneself from it.

Well, I have been so successful in distancing myself from The Others that I now seem to be living in a completely different time zone.

Also, my funny went to sleep hours ago, and I wouldn't want to burden you with what's left in my head. Bitchiness is no good without a caffeine kick.

Remember, people: 'Wednesday' is a relative term. As is 'blog entry', it seems.

Umbrellah - ellah - ellah

Tue, 13 Nov 2007 22:38:18 GMT

And just when I thought my day wouldn't get any better, Arne stumbled across this little tidbit (for the Norwegian-speakers among you):

I'll tell you one thing, Montt: You can come stand under my umbrella any time you like.

Goodnight!

Diving

Tue, 13 Nov 2007 20:27:21 GMT

Well that's just typical. Today is Troubled Tuesday, my only whinge allowance this week, and I'm happy. Happy! What, it couldn't wait, like, one more day?

Something that definitely can't wait one more day, is my befriending my least favourite book, the evil pink one, 'Introducing Phonology'. I'm sure my fear of and hatred towards it will turn out to have been completely irrational, but up until now this has been the really 'wow, you certainly treat your books with care' one. The time has come for that to change, though. Everybody? I'm going in.

Yeah, sorry to short-change you on this one, but I have to juice my motivation as best I can. If you want troubles, there are plenty to choose from (school, boys, self-esteem, school, boys, friends, school, boys, boys, family, boys), but I'm sure they won't have magically sorted themself out by next week. You'll have your fair share of girly rants, all in good time (like tomorrow, which may have to be baptised 'Whiny Wednesday' after all).

In the mean time, how about you? What's wrong with your lives?

Different note:

Mon, 12 Nov 2007 19:33:36 GMT

It seems Jenna has deleted her wonderful blog, and all my makeup and I are in mourning. She shall indeed be missed, along with her unbeatable tutorials.

Also, I laughed more than a little at the first paragraph of this fashion rant, courtesy of the ever-faithful Ms. Jessica Fug.

Full

Mon, 12 Nov 2007 19:21:30 GMT

I am stupid. I just am. It’s like a law of physics or something, I just have to face the fact and get on with it. God, how disappointing.

You know what I was supposed to do with my morning? I was supposed to get up really early, have breakfast at Eva's, then spend the rest of the morning studying my arse off. And what do you think I did instead? I got up really early and had breakfast at Eva's, period. I spent almost four and a half hours having breakfast. And, of course, talking and laughing, swapping other people’s secrets behind their backs and all in all having a lovely time, but that is beside the point. I essentially spent half the day eating, and now I feel stupid. And full.

This, though, is not what I intended Munchies Monday to be all about. I was thinking more along the lines of recipes, cooking hints and whichever food-related funny stories I come to think of along the way. I mean, my flat is quite small, so I basically live in my kitchen (slash living room, slash dining area, slash study…), and something good has to come out of that, right? Because I may not be the greatest cook in the world, but eating? Eating, I know. ’Hello, my name is Elisabeth and I am a foodie.’ ’Oh, uhm *crunch crunch*, hi Elisabeth!’

I was doing this interview thing on Facebook a while back, and one of the questions I had to answer was ’What are your favourite foods?’ The answer to this, like that to questions about one’s favourite book, song, film, writer, colour etc., changes constantly. My answer at the time was ’Fruit, fish and Cheez Doodles’, and it is true, these are some of the good things in life. Along with wholegrain pasta, potatoes, all kinds of herbs and spices, beef, ’rømmegrøt’, freshly baked bread with butter, all kinds of soups, risotto, cheeses, dried strawberries, walnuts, veggies baked in the oven with olive oil and fresh herbs, everything with the word 'caramel' in the title… The list goes on. These days I have a particular weakness for all things healthy-tasting, because of my perpetual fear of getting sick again before exams. That means lots of fish and vegetables, water, white tea and home-made soup. A few weeks ago I craved ’man food’; fried eggs, baked beans, meat, melted cheese and, of course, beer.

What’s my point in telling you this? I have no idea. I suppose just to inform you of my undiscriminating love of all food (except liquorice, but seriously, who in their right mind would eat that stuff?). Food is such an important part of being alive, and my philosophy is, why not make the most of it and have some foody fun?

You know? I’m a big fat liar.

Here’s the real story. My relationship with food (much like all my relationships, really) has been nothing if not troublesome. There was a time when I was an emotional over-eater, and I notice the urge to stuff myself - mostly as a means of ignoring some other difficult business in life - still kicks in from time to time. Because of that, being full has been labelled a ’bad’ feeling. I’m used to it meaning that I don’t quite have control over, well, anything, therefore full equals guilty. And stupid. That basically means that if I am to indulge in anything, it has to be the cooking process, rather than the actual eating.

I started cooking when I was in primary school. It all began in Australia with a tasty salad or two, and then, back in Norway, I started baking. At some point, maybe when I was around ten or eleven, I had taught myself how to make a few fool-proof dishes - I would always lock the door to the kitchen during my experiments, and insist on doing it all on my own. I mastered the perfect lasagne. Juicy, oven-baked chicken with honey, toasted sesame seeds and orange slices. Lime cheesecake with raspberry coulis and ’walls’ of dark chocolate. I collected cookbooks, as well as books about cooking through the ages, nutrition, and food around the world. I still have no idea exactly when or why it all stopped, but I suppose it became a little too much for me in some way.

My passion for cooking faded into nothingness, and even though my culinary curiosity is back to a certain extent, I haven’t enjoyed it in the same way since. I hardly ever touch my cookbooks, other than perhaps to find a basic cake recipe or the ingredients in a good risotto. I miss the process of finding a new recipe, shopping for ingredients and following the instructions until my wonderful concoction appears, almost as if by magic. But the thing is, I don’t cook to impress people any more. I have no reason to. I can make fantastic soups and sauces, an apple crumble that will change your life and the best mashed potatoes you’ve ever had, but I never bother with anything terribly complicated, seeing as the only recipes I follow are those in my head.

This sounds quite dull, but in fact, following nothing but my instincts when cooking has taught me two things: independence and creativity. Admittedly I haven’t learned a whole lot of each, but seeing as I am by nature lacking in both these traits, a little goes a long way. Surprisingly enough, this is the kind of foodie I have become; no cookbooks, nothing fancy or even planned, just someone who enjoys the freedom of it. I think my love of cooking and writing are quite similar in their motivation, in that I get to do something I may not be extremely good at, but that keeps my creativity breathing, and feels wonderfully liberating on that completely self-indulgent ’personal level’ we are always hearing about. I sincerely hope this attitude will spread, and make an imprint on other areas of my life, but all in good time.

Now that I’ve got that bit out of the way, I ask you, what did you have for dinner? I had a made-from-scratch broccoli cream soup. It wasn't too bad, actually, considering the fact that it only contained four ingredients (onion, broccoli, stock cube, cream - and of course water).

Your turn.

Confetti

Sun, 11 Nov 2007 23:36:50 GMT

Today, the first snow fell. It wasn't much, and it didn't settle because it's still a little too warm out. Tiny flakes, floating slowly but determinedly down towards the unfriendly ground. Like leftover confetti from a party in the clouds, bearing a festive promise it was not able to keep. I'm starting to get used to that sort of thing now.

I have been idling my way to stardom today. I slept until noon, which almost never happens, and haven't left my pyjama bottoms since. I put off showering until just now, so my hair is still a bit damp, undecided as to whether or not it feels like behaving. It's just one of those days. Again.

I feel like Heather Armstrong's sub-heading, "All about my stupid, boring life", would be very appropriate for my journal nowadays, and whose fault is that? Entirely my own. I admit it: I'm not even making the slightest effort to have a life at the moment. This is mostly because of my being afraid my social life will start overwhelming me again (being one of those people who is physically unable to utter the word 'no', this can happen quite suddenly). Does the 'My flat is my world' philosophy help, even the slightest bit? Probably not. Am I happier this way? I doubt it. Do I acknowledge the possibility of a logical connection here in any way? Certainly not! Where's the fun in that? I like learning things the hard way. Gives me stories to tell my future grandchildren (of whom there will be how many if I keep up this routine?).

So what have I been doing with my time? Where did it all go? Let's just pretend for a moment that these aren't questions I ask myself several times each day, and try to come up with some good excuses, shall we?

- A small amount of studying has been achieved. Small, because I am lazy. And because I have been sick. But mainly because I am lazy. I seriously have an uncanny capacity for wall-staring.

- Some small-scale choir promotion has been attempted. I have landed us one very well-paid gig - and that must mean I'm off the hook for at least a couple of months, right? Such hard work, sending out e-mails. I mean, all that copy-pasting and send-button-pushing... I'm exhausting myself just thinking about it. Moving on, then...

- I have learned how to illegally download music, again. Like with knitting, I can never seem to get the hang of this, but today I've downloaded a bunch o' albums that I'm sure will keep me in tunes for a few months. Who knew The Bangles made so many great songs? Also on the list: Imogen Heap, Frou Frou, Belle and Sebastian and Joni Mitchell - most of this is sheer replacement of the songs lost in the Great iTunes Library Slaughter, but Court and Spark is new (and lovely!).

- I have mourned my once teeny-tiny waistline. By drinking copious amounts of hot chocolate. Uhm, yeah, no further comments there, except that I hope I’m pretty again by New Year’s, because flabby so doesn’t work with this dress!

- I have been scared shitless by the idea of the dreaded three-day exam in my worst subject being in exactly one week. Several times. Like now.

- I have been listening to Dr. Kermode's film reviews, and I'm still watching episodes of the spectacular HBO-series Six Feet Under when I've been needing an injection of geniune human emotion into my largely computer-based life.

- I have been to E-man’s birthday party. You know the guy, the one who caused my 2005/06 depression and basically fucked my mind up good and hard for about seven months? Yeah, we’re friends now. I kid you not, it’s pleasant, even. I just wish that was enough, for once.

- I have been blalking. OK, that’s possibly the most disgusting word I’ve constructed so far today. It was supposed to be a short, snappy word for ’blog-stalking’, as you may have noticed, but let’s just stick to the good old-fashioned concept of separating words by spaces, shall we? I’ve been catching up with Alyndabear, Princess Poochie, Amber, Stephen Fry, Heather and The Glamorous Librarian, in addition to all my real friends. I am sad to see that Jenna, my smoky-eye guru, seems to be taking more than a little time off, but other than that things seem to be going rather well. I am also surprised to see how many bloggers are actually taking part in NaNoWriMo - I had never even heard of it before last month - and as always I am frustrated by how incompatible Livejournal is with Bloglines.

- I have learned how to push a wheelchair. With, like, a real person - more specifically, aj_stalin, in it! In a heels and a mini, might I add. How impressive is that?

’Why did I have to push said wheelchair?’ I hear you ask. Ladies and gentlemen, I bring you the unrivalled highlight of my week:

Mika.

You know, the curly-haired, half Lebanese guy with the piano who just oozes glorious gayness whist singing ’Sucking too hard on the lollipop’? That’s the one.

Now don’t you go a-judgin’, for you can say what you will about the music, but that man has three things going for him:
1. An amazingly trained, controlled voice which never once slipped off pitch.
2. A stage presence which was just unbelievable - charmed my socks right off, he did.
3. The most beautiful arse I have ever seen on a man. It deserved a show of its very own, that’s how yummy it was.

It has been a while since a concert left me with a 48-hour adrenaline high, but this charming man hit all the right buttons. Also, I think the giant balloons, dancer with angel’s wings, furry animal costumes, faux shadow puppet theatre, confetti and Mika taking his shirt off towards the end may have helped a little. So far as tall and skinny goes, he was absolutely perfect. If I hadn’t been seated so far from the stage, I’m afraid to think what I would have done, but the words ’restraining order’ do come to mind.

Concience cleared - check. Mika praised - check. Hair dry - check.
I believe it's time for bed.

Drink drank drunk

Sun, 11 Nov 2007 20:17:30 GMT

So that went well... I completely forgot about the alcohol factor of Saturday nights, and being the perfectionist that I am, I need a sober proof-reading of everything that gets posted (or indeed written) here. Said proof-reading? More than revealed my somewhat amputated intellectual state of last night, which basically means that I end up having to combine the two topics du jour into:

Wittertainment Weekend! Now doesn't that just sound good enough to eat?

I'll be with you shortly.