Good question! But I don't think I have a very good answer to it. Well, I have had a cold, drunk lots of tea, gone for a whizz, coloured my drawing, eaten waffles, watched TV and Black Books, been to work, walked home from downtown at 3 in the morning just to come home and drink some more tea! Well, today I am feeling a whole lot better! That is a good thing, don't you think? Yes you do, how pleasant.
How are you? Have you done anything interesting? Oh! Oh! I got my shool-computar today, that was quite nice, I don't know if it is working yet, but hopefully I will find out soon enough. I most likely will. I still have that bacon bandage plastered to it, and everyone still believe it is a real piece of bacon! Says as much about what they expect of me as it does about them! Why would someone stick a piece of bacon to their laptop? Why would they do that? Though I suppose it is right about too late anyway, the people I hang out with are the outkasts of the outkasts.
It is much like, if the geeks had an even geekier overlord, or, if the nerds had like a, a, senate, well then we wouldn't be in it. But anyway, we qualify for the weirdness. Marius with the cloak wore chainmail to school the other day, Tobias and I shared a bag of Sniggles (which is a biscuit) they were actually Liv-Elin's, but I don't think she wanted them. Anyway Elin opened my banana at the wrong end, so I had to open it on the other side as well! She kind of brought the Sniggles on herself.
Yes Tobias also programmed his calculator yet again to solve supernatural acamdemic-levelled calculations for both physics, maths and chemistry, because he is a supermonstrous maniac! Martin had a stray hair standing straight up on the top of his head like an antenna, other than wearing his japanese anime-t-shirts I asked him what the weather would be like tomorrow, though the forecast was not on yet. Sindre is quite possibly "ooo-oo-oooh", meaning possibly riding his bike on the other side of the road, nothing wrong with that of course, it's just interesting how his "friend", Hugo seems not to have noticed it yet.
So that's it, that makes us, that makes us six. Wow that is a damn lot. I would've guessed four. Weird with those numbers, they don't always sound or feel like how much they really are worth.
I am so sorry for not posting, it is just that I have been a bit occupied. Right now I am at work even, it is my lunch though, so I am quite sure I am allowed to blog. Cleo is very tired, yesterday she was all desorientated and she didn't eat anything, something which worried us considerably.
Today, however, she has eaten well, taken her pills and even wagged her tail loosely. She is dreading the body she has to wear to prevent her from ripping up her many stitches, and she is probably wondering what the hell is going on, because naturally, she has no bloody idea.
His hair curled in a certain direction behind his ears, she had noticed that. His eyes would mostly stare with a modest and mild intensity, so it was hard to tell when he was really interested in something. In a way he wasn't all that confident, she thought she would always go with someone very sure about himself, but it was something about his uncertainty that attracted her, strangely. She found herself hopelessly lost in his stunning gaze. She could stand there for minutes just staring into his eyes, even when he wasn't looking at her, something he rarely did.
To her their distance was insignificant, the large space between them was just empty matter, it was just loose, transparent liquid that parted them indifferently. What the distance was to him she didn't know, she knew very little, not just about the distance, but also about him and about many other things. It was not as if she was slow, it was just that the world never mattered much to her, she was not alive to gather as much knowledge as possible, it never concerned her. Her eyes were windows into a world created around him, around his smile, around his eyebrows, around his ears, his hands, his magnificent eyes, around his nose, his cheeks, his feet and his rounded, mellow voice. What else of life unravelled, she never took note of.
Every precious, golden moment she saw him, she saved inside her, like a secret box she opened every now and then, to let the sun shine upon her. The life she had lived before she loved him she couldn't remember, she never had many real friends. The teachers at school had forgotten the sound of her voice, she never did her chores at home, she never did her homework, she just sat, for hours, little glass tears prickling down her pale cheeks, staring into her secret box of him, letting the sun warm her up. Like a soft hand around her heart, making it beat like it was supposed to.
The only thing she could see was the flawlessness in him, the beauty of his existence, the importance of his life, and the only thing she truly treasured was her secret box of sunshine, kept safe within the shell of her pale skin.
One day, it was a rainy day, but she had not noticed, she was on her way to school. The streets were grey, covered by a thin layer of ocean, making them glisten with the darkness of the clouds above. She did not know any of this, because inside her the warm sun was shining, her everlasting summer safe within her ribs. Before her the bus came out of nowhere, and she ran to catch it so she would not be late to see him that day. She ran so she would not miss him, and running through the rain her eyes were blurred, but she saw him there, at the back of the bus she saw the back of his head, she knew what way his hair curled. Every cell of her paleness knew it was he, for no reason she waved while she ran, hoping he would see her.
He did nothing as she stumbled in her own wet boots, as the sea of the streets enveloped her, as she became one with the grey, as the speed of a car hit her with force. Drenched with cold rain and sun warm blood she lay there, the sun inside her was put out silently, and nobody had known it shone at all.
A list of terrible, terrible music (and some not so terrible music) I will hear later and think of this summer:
Parlami d'Amore - Negramaro These Words - Natasha Bedingfield Relax, Take It Easy - Mika E Raffaella è mia - Tiziano Ferro Destination Unknown - Alex Gaudino D.A.N.C.E - Justice Love Will Tear us Apart - Joy Divison Take a Look At my Girlfriend - Supertramp Tidløs - Postgirobygget By the Monument - Maxïmo Park You Are Dreaming - Shout Out Louds Me and My Imagination - Sophie Ellis Baxtor Sound of Freedom - Bob Sinclair Music is My Hot, Hot Sex - CSS Umbrella - Rihanna Ft. Jay-Z Suburban Knights - Hard-Fi Summer Sun - Koop
A handy list I can keep for later and laugh at it and maybe break it into nice little chunks and feed it to the birds. Like my younger brother never said, music is best enjoyed sideways, with a handsomely strong cocktail and a bag of chips at the beach.
Pretty ruddy if you ask me, I don't like it, really, it is unflattering and silly. And there are lice in it, I don't like lice, they disgust me. Especially school lice, they are the worst kind of lice. Why can't they just go away?!
Off with you, school lice, you vermin, you pests, away with you all, you are repulsive and smell of filthy, bobbing cardboard chicken.
I need this nightgown to wander and frolick around a delicious Jane Austen landscape, overlooking a romantic lake mirror-like and silvery. I will walk along a path from my cottage where I spend my time reading poetry and drinking tea. As I walk I will be touching the grass with my fingertips and look at the turbulent weather while looking pale and scrumptious, my hair flowing over my shoulders like a silky waterfall.
This is my official Politically Engaged day, as you might remember from last year. Politically Engaged day is my offical day for spouting and retorting angry comments about the corrupt Norwegian society, to anger a... er... mob, or a... er... a riot, a crowd, or a, something. This means that the upcoming elections both in Norway and US & A, public appearances of upbeat politicians, the national budget, the upper as well as the lower regions of the rotten hierocracy would be up for debate. Unfortunately for the sake of freedom of speech I am not in Norway at the current time.
Quite naturally this means I am not nor do I mean to be very engaged or enthusiastic in the world of politics.
Excuse me. Just a second. I will write you a little verse about politics, so that you may continue to enjoy 'Politically Engaged Day'. I am very very politically engaged I hope my enthusiasm does not seem... er... staged The insides of our town hall is plagued quite possibly by possum.
With help of the wonders of Webinterworldaglobalwidenet the date is set to the 14th of August, next Tuesday(!).
With love, Tora from the past. (1345 hours, 08.10.07)
Well it is about time someone said something! Don't tell me you have not noticed the stunning likeness between Matthew Macfadyen (Spooks, Pride and Prejudice, Death at a Funeral) and Dylan Moran (Black Books)!
1 pair of firework-sparkly earrings 23 pairs of shoes 2 shock-green snakeskin underpants 3 mismatching orange stockings with umbrellas
1 bottle of cold white wine 1 stick of watermelon chewing gum 1 bottle of "Cat, I'm a Kitty-Cat" perfume grapes
Anyone said kick-ass holiday? I CAN'T HEAR YOU! Sayonara Snoreway! Enjoy the Sh/now! (Or the rain, but s/rh/ao/iw/n didn't work as well, you see).
I'll be in Italy again if you need me, I'll be back next Monday, don't worry about it. I left you some lamps and some biscuits. The holy biscuit is locked safely in a carrot-coloured tin on top of my rickety wardrobe. If you need the holy biscuit the key is..... .... You sneaky sneaky you, I nearly told you everything!
Well, if anything happens, just about anything else you need to know is in my "Last Will n' Testament™" (sorry about the coat-hangers, Skjalg (Stinky), but I felt like someone I trusted should get them).
Music to listen to while I'm away:
Maxïmo Park - By the Monument Maxïmo Park - Books for Boxes The Thrills - Don't steal our Sun Feist - 1234 Feist - Honey Honey Kasabian - Butcher Blues
It never occured to me before that Kelis' "Milkshake" was actually referring to a kind of booty-shake, a shimmy of sorts. Why I am telling you this is probably just as surreal as the idea was to me at first. Who knows, I might be wrong, and my milkshake ain't bringing a single soul to my yard. Perhaps that is for the better.
Did you know that a bear can actually gain as much weight as it wants without ever becoming dangeriously obese? The bear will continue to grow in size, of course, but it will not be a hazard to its health - in fact it is crucial for it survival! That is why bears eat honey and porridge, also they like to munch on a sleek filet o' salmon, preferably smoked on toast with a bit of scrambled egg.
The king of the forest, also known as my sister Hagrid (Sigrid), has a lesser servant, much like a 'Lord', or a 'Sir', if you like, called a Mousse, a Chocolate Mousse. Much like a stag, the mousse has corny braids on its head, made of whipped cream. The Chocolate Mousse also likes to paint his toenails and wear bracelets.
"Excuse me?" he said, because as nobody else had reacted, he felt obliged to. -"Yes?" she said, and did a little jump to move the baby to a more comfortable position on the side of her waist. "May I ask why your child is wrapped in plastic-bubbles and tinfoil?" He pointed at the baby, though she probably did know where it was already, he felt it made the question seem more natural if he pointed. -"It is in case I drop him of course, so that he wont break". He took a discreet step backwards. "Ah, of course. I see, er, I was just... Curious".
And he felt helpless, because he had no idea what to retort. Quite honestly he didn't see why it couldn't make sense either.
At work, which can be very quiet during summer, there's a game one can play which is called "The PLU game". PLU is the code for each piece of glassware or other items we might have in stock, also known as ASW.
The game is quite simple, you randomly tap six numbers into the cashier to register an item, and the one who gets the item that is worth the most, wins!
Sometimes one can become a little too competitive and start looking up the most expensive items on the computer at the back. Anyway, yesterday it was so quiet because of the good weather, so Heidi and I took turns in walking around in the other shops.
While Heidi was ojn one of her trips, I was driven to insanity by boredom, and ended up playing the PLU game. And don't we sell a bucketload of odd things? Prices are in Norwegian Kroners.
212121 - Stiftviskelær "Winter"-19,- 174423 - Pins USA/Norway - 29,- 181818 - White wine - 49,- 264512 - Bell with Moose in sunset - 59,- 161616 - No Text - 75,- 264589 - Mirror zink - 119,- 177444 - First Step 17017BB - 1799,- 191919 - Postbox B541 STEEL - 2399,- 207447 - Yellow Plate 550mm - 12 000,-
You might already be familiar with my Italian friend named Dario, Dario Esposito. Mr. Dario is my age and he takes me out on his scooter to show me the wonders of Italian nightlife. Now if you are wondering why the hell this italian diegos would take a git like me out on his pearly blue-metallic bike - the answer is quite simple; the beach-blonde hair.
Now, Tora is interested in seeing the scenery, the people, the streets, the houses, the shops and restaurants that are all buzzing with excitement at the nightly hours. Tora wants to see Italy from the Italian point of view; from the back of a girly moped with a big helmet falling down over her eyes, arms clinging around a person with a name ending with an 'o'*.
Now, Dario, kind of on the other side of the scale, wants to go to dark places with a view to make out. Like cliffs looking over the peninsula fitted with a convenient bench, a sandy beach, or what else on his bloody endless list of "good places for making out".
You know what I should do? I should make a map, I should write a book, no? "Tora e Dario's Guide to Romantic Beaches of the Amalfi Coast Perfect for Snuggling and Making out". I might have to work a little on the title.
So it happens that Mr. D took me out to a pier, on the outer side of the concrete docks massive rocks had been heaved to shield the beach from the waves. Obviously this pier already had some snuggling couples at the very end, looking over at Naples, watching fireworks and doing mindblowing excursions to the locking mechanism of bras. I am sure the brain activity at that pier was just as powerful as during a professional chess-tournament.
Again Tora felt the need to state further that she really wanted to see the world, and not hug noses. As usual this wasn't very popular in particular, and all Tora got as a response was "perché??" ("why??"). Well, bright-lights, that ain't easy to explain with such a limited vocabulary, besides I don't think it would have been any use to turn to verbal abuse. My second attempt of escaping was to step down from my high, sparkly and new golden shoes - and run for it.
Well technically I had no chance of walking (or running) all the way home, and I had no intention of hurting his feelings, I had made him take me were I wanted before, it just took a good while to make him do as I said. So, left with few other options than intense physical-contact, I started to jump from one giant rock to the next. It was a really nice place, the waves and the view was all really romantic -he knew what he was doing alright.
In Italy a girl don't simply jump from rock to rock, they just don't do that, all they do is to sit on their bums, complain, make-out, and argue, a lot. That's it. So when Dario to his surprise started to jump after me in a real girly way, trying hard to catch up - he asked me if I was a "sporty -girl". Well, honeycakes... Not the least bit. I kept keeping a good two- to three rocks distance, and asking him really far-out questions to divert him. To some extent it worked, but it didn't last long before we were approaching the face-eating, big-brains at the end. When he caught up he took my hand, and we jumped a bit back again. To my despair he sat down, and made me do the same.
Obviously I continued to ask stupid questions, like "what is 'glass' in Italian?" ("vetro") and so on. Though at some point he made some stupid compliment about my light hair, and I said that he has such beautiful brown eyes, because he really does. But he looked at me, baffled, and said stiffly "No, my eyes are black, nero", and I laughed and said (he really doesn't have black eyes, seriously) "Yours are black, and mine are blue". This time he looked into my eyes in a very cheesy fashion and corrected me confidently "No, they are... Azzurro".
I couldn't do nothing but laugh! They are not the least bit azure, they are slightly more gray really. But romance it appears, do not really take interest in such insignificant details, and so I couldn't say anything, he was so serious.
It didn't take many more dumb questions and uninterested glances at him before he placed me back on his moped with the big helmet on my head and drove me around for a bit. At some point his "mamma" called and told him to come home. He drove me to my door, and I stepped off the bike, handing him the helmet, but when reaching for my phone - a Norwegian coin fell out of my purse. Dario looked incredibly fascinated, so I gave it to him and told him how much it was worth in Euro's, (about 20 cent) and he laughed at its worthlessness, but took hold of it as if it was a wonderful treasure.
With his "black" eyes he looked through the hole in the middle of the coin, and he smiled at me. Before I could do anything he had taken off his necklace and put the coin on it, then to put it back around his neck. He was still wearing it when I left Italy a week later. Though before leaving, in fact he refused to leave, he insisted to have me kiss him goodnight. With big puppy eyes he told me sadly that if I would not kiss him a last time he would not sleep tonight, and he looked at me as if he was asking me to buy him an icecream. I told him this was absolutely ridiculous and that of course he would sleep, but as I had said this he rubbed his big eyes with his fists as if crying, and there was no way I could say no. So I kissed him goodnight, and I laughed, because he was pathetic yet irresistably cute, what kind of thing is that to do, anyway? Begging to get kissed? Pretty sad if you ask me, azure or not, pretty damn sad!
*Like for example, Mario, Dario, Wario, Enzo, Raphaelo, Massimo, Donatello, Stephano, or Leonardo, you know.
The norwegian language use comparisons to determine a persons behaviour or certain abilities a person has. Most languages do this, it is just that we compare you with things that do not even remotely make sense, take these for example:
Treig - ost Slow - cheese :A person which is slow or lagging behind.
Moro - klump Funny - lump :A person with a sense of humour.
Mase - kråke Nagging - crow :A person that just doesn't shut up.
Papp - skalle Cardboard - head :A person not particularily bright.
Rote - kopp Messy - cup :A person not tidying up after him/herself
Surre - hue Buzzing - head :An oblivious person, a bit dim.
Fille - frans Raggy - frans :A person not dressed very nice (Frans is a name).
Of course I know that Gym Class Heroes have made a cover version of Supertramp's Take a Look at my Girlfriend called Cupid's Chokehold.
I know the little cupids are adorable and have the most funky dance in their video - but all the hip-hop is pissing me off as much as that disgusting Red Hot Chilli Pepper song Hump da Bump. (Grrrrrrr... that song does annoy me just thinking about it).