Made in Italy

Remember when I was so excited about Giorgio Locatelli adding me as a friend on MySpace? Well you probably already know that my religious views are generally about food, and that I worship Gods like James Martin, Gordon Ramsay and the Goddess herself, Nigella Lawson. That in general I have the opinion that the way to a girls heart is usually through her stomach, and that there really isn't much of a party without butter.

Well I thought I might recommend some literature for you (not because I am obsessed with making you believe the same things as I do, or in any other way become convinced about the same things as myself. But simply I'd rather give you a tip for something nice to read. Honest).

In fact I gave this book to my aunt for her birthday - because hopefully she could treasure it as much as I do. It's very easy to read. It's packed with delightful stories that make you smile and feel all warm and fuzzy, accompanied with series of magical recipes and pictures that will make your mouth water. In many ways it's not the most practical cookbook, seeing it is rather great in size (not a monster of a book, but close) - but on the other hand it contains so much to know about olive oils, cheese, bread, prosciuttos, pasta, vegetables, ice creams - well, simply, everything.

Every now and then "Made in Italy" takes a short break from the informative side and has a little story about Locatellis life for you. Absolutely wonderful. I have had to restrain myself from devouring it instantly. In a lack of better words, this book is fantastic. I think you should read it.

Russ is over

Soo.. That's a wrap.
The russetid is officially over, and it's very sad, as a matter of fact - it's very very sad :(
I've completely lost my voice, all you hear is a loud, high-pitched scraping sound when I try to speak, so I haven't been able to talk properly since May 16th! If this continues much longer - i will go crazy! Speaking of which - gogo May 17th! YAY! Happy Snoreway Time!
I'm sure there's looaads to tell, like that the four of us (Ulrik, Jakob, Elin and myself) drank a crate of beer inside a phone booth for a russ-knot, and later we woke up some teachers at six in the morning! (One of them had baked buns for us, she was supernice). It snowed as well, in fact - it was the coldest May 17th for fifty years.

Go team, we fail at climate, indeed. I put some before/after pictures pre/past russetid here, to describe everything in pictures for you.

And here I am, doing what I do best! In fact, exactly what I am going to do now, and have done for some 16 hours. Sleep!

Personal space

So speaking of personal space, of which I happen to have in an abudance - why in the first place would the concept of disliking the close approach of a fellow animal be uncomfortable? The phenomenon of personal space was introduced in a zoo, and naturally been a subject that could grope anyone into fascination, even of late. Obviously, it has to do with territory, but based on something primal, it now probably has more to do with precaution and intimacy than habitat.

For a long time (like let's see, yes! From way back in the grand Chinese emperors' time) it has been known that important, or famous people can feel all the more important and/or famous if they have larger personal space. Being untouchable is status.

According to our treasured Wiki, our personal space is breached if a stranger is closer than 70cm in front of you, 60cm on your sides - and stunning 40 cm behind you. This space is often called "the bubble".

Now, I think that most people feel that ones "bubble" shrink in proportion to how much one has had to drink. This only if some cheesy beaver has put alcohol in it, obviously. As water has little known effect on personal space, unless you are in a swimming pool - when which I can imagine, your bubble grows again. Taking a full bus somewhere, packed with people, more like "forces" you to wear a decreased bubble. Being naked or somewhere you've never been before often inflates the bubble furthermore. So let's test the idea.

Your name is Brian. Hello Brian. Brian has been drinking. You with me? And he is on a bus, naked, in a strange swimming pool. How big is your personal space?

Maah

I don't feel very well :(

Today I've brought two different kinds of brown cheese on my matpakke, so I can feel extra Norwegian.

I see you baby

Shakin' that ass
Shakin' that ass
I see you baby

My name is Grandma Funk, - ya!

Edit: You don't know who Groove Armada is, do you? Huh?!
Grandma Funk > You

Happy Birthday Hans-Jørgen

Lol! We went rollin' on ze bus, the Red Lion last night. It was actually kind of awesome, Eivind did a lot of homo-erotic things which made me temporarily deaf and blind. He also had my permanent marker taped to his hand and called himself "Edward Marker-hand". Hardcore. He actually did manage to pull some chick from some other bus, can't remember which, but I mean, yeah, sweet.

The weather is beaautiful, I was home at seven this morning so I only had time to run home, eat and put some more wool on (because even though it's sunny, it's getting colder - for some peculiar reason). Actually I woke up with my head on Hans-Jørgens behind :D

Anyway, I giggled like a little girl yesterday, must've been the icecream, because I usually don't giggle as much. The carpenters working on our house asked me about how late I was home this morning. Funneh!