Sunday

I just finished reading "The Brief Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao" by Junot Diaz, and it was beautiful and horrible and mysterious and grounded all at once. I loved it. A truly good book.

It's been a gloomy, rainy day today. Mostly read my book, and the newspapers and slept and had tea and watched Helge play games. We were out last night, at The Villa (whohoo!), was cool place. A little trendy, shit expensive of course, but what would you expect? Really?

Feeling a slight bit under the weather and haven't even brushed my hair, but there you go. It is what Sundays are for*.

We are going over to my brother's tonight, which is nice!

*They are not, contrary to what the church believes, for making a hella noise and being mean to other people. Seriously. Stop bashing my brains in.

"Of Bees and Mist" by Erick Setiawan

So I read this, among other things this summer, a book called "Of Bees and Mist" by Erick Setiawan. And because I really fought to not put it down, I feel like I have earned the right to give my review on it.

The main character Meridia is this quiet super beautiful girl that lives in a complicated world so full of emotion that they manifest into physical things. Like bees, and mist. While the idea is interesting, I quite liked it, I think perhaps it went a little overboard, and the symbolism became too real and too physical to make sense.

What Erick accomplishes though is to weave increasingly frustrating webs of conflict and despair, wrecking torment and destruction on his characters. No soul is left unharmed, and all characters hate each other with varying intervals. While this does appear interesting at first, fails to come full circle almost every time.

The numerous conflicts all solve or dissolve at whims, with no sacrifice or with no realistic tension. For example, the boy who brews intense hate for his father, is suddenly able to overcome all this, with no logical strength. Just like that. In a couple of minutes. Seriously. So the universe at this, falls short of carrying a trustworthy story. The build up of hate and love and violence when ready to explode, pops and fizzes unsatisfyingly at climax, because as the drama is clever, the wit can't seem to unravel them in any way to do it justice.

The book is wildly metaphoric and psychologic, and lives off emotion. And these can sometimes be so splendidly accurate and terrifying, the read is beautiful. But sadly, the thoughts and actions change so fast and don't connect to human attributes. This is like blowing up a teen drama by a zillion, let it loose on a strange universe and let it ravage unrelenting. A lot is magical here, and so everything that doesn't make sense can hide behind that. But unfortunately the universe is full of holes and lacks depth, and so it fails to cloak the many shortcomings.

The characters are described in words, not by actions, and so don't seem very believeable. Their attributes are simply spelled out. This becomes especially embarrasing when their descriptions fail to apply when the time is right. The man introduced as "patient and warm" get fits of rage, and displays coldness unparallel to snow. Secondary characters lack all dimension whatsoever, and seem to be added just as a convenience.

The story as a whole is indeed a saga, it includes a lot of people and a lot of places, while some of these are interesting, the writer is unable to carry the weight of so much mass. The book is simply too short. The central love story is quickly woven over a couple of sentences, and so we are shielded from learning more about our characters through happiness or through friendship or love. The only lessons are given in times of despair, severe pain and loss. A lot of terrible and dramatic things happen in this book. Absolutely all the time. And there is no end to the tormenting hardships that ravage the characters. The read as a whole, has focus on dreadful events, backstabbing, slandering and unrelenting drama, losing its point and its credibility with each occurring horror.

I wanted to like this book, but I hated it, stopped reading, thought the better of it, and picked it up again. The antagonist is brilliant in her manipulation, and the characters so easily fall under her might. But because of all the things that go wrong, people only seem to get more and more motivated by unmentioned forces. The changes are strange and explained by senseless things, like the spoiled, spiteful girl suddenly becoming warm and fantastic and amazing because she's pregnant. Yeah, fucking right. The character development we witness, is either physical or unexplainable to the circumstances. Suddenly bitter foes are friends "through quiet understanding". Molested souls show incredible, unbeliveable loyalty to their molester, and I don't know. Everything just goes wrong in an awfully detailed way, and then is fixed way to lightly. The conflicts are not handled seriously enough.

I think this book is "too easy", the mysteries lack backing, the characters keep going, though stripped of all hope, and strange hallucinating dreamlike events occur all the time, without sufficient strength to ring enchanting. Everyone are very bautiful, everything is very magical, and everyone are deceiving and strange and otherwordly. I thought I was the perfect audience, but I just think this book has too many logical flaws and not enough depth to be enjoyed, even by me.

Missing!

49 pages of my book!

Oh I am so distressed. My precious new book is missing several pages, and just when things were getting extra exciting! I can't well read on after missing almost fifty pages! What am I supposed to do?

Of course I sent a mail to the publisher! But that doesn't resolve things at this instant! Maybe I should be getting a kindle after all. Sniff. And Helge wont play any more L.A. NOIRE with me tonight, so I have to think of something else to do. Oh goodness I never thought this would happen!

If you find the pages, please let me know.

Help needed!

Err, this is an old (quite disturbing) doodle I found that I did in Paint.NET in its day.

I absolutely love snailmail! It is so amazing! It is almost as good as lights, or as lights in different colours. But yes. You people need to help me out some, and I mean it this time. I need a good concept for my NaNoWriMo in November (and I am totally planning ahead, as usual - even though it has helped me SQWAT! before) But there you go. I am a person of irreversible bad habits, like craving sugar first thing in the morning, always cross the road looking both ways (even though I KNOW it's a one way street). But there you go, again. I can't help myself.

I just better never start smoking. Sorry, I'll stop raving -- now, to the point. Yes! I need a concept, ladies. That's what I'm saying. I am usually never stripped for ideas, I have a couple on hold, but none that seem deep enough if you get me. It has to be a 50 000 word-proof idea. And that proves easier said than done. Every year. It has to be novel material, and I guess that shouldn't be all that hard *cough*TWILIGHT*cough* but at the same time we can't all write swooning romantic vampire novels. I guess that would make us all senile.

So yes. I'm happy to take ANY idea, please. Be it funny, sad, fantastic - yes, or even romantic, if we have to. And usually, the more psychedelic the better. It is easier that way. Please you guys, I really could use some input if you hear me, and it can't be more True Blood, because we all know where that'll take me *cough*. Yes.

OOooh Suuundaaay

Yeah, I'm sorry, it's just so awfully funny.

My closet has performed ritual suicide again. A perfect seppuku that could pride any samurai. I would take a picture for you, but there are levels of decency. It's all been put back to normal though, it's just that the shelves cave in on themselves sometimes because they're held up by these tiny pegs that they are just barely touching on each side because they're a little narrower than the cupboard. But anyway!

Hey! Trysil-Knut is on tv! Too bad I have to make pie. Haha! It looks bad, even from here.

Yes, today we are having dinnerguests! What do you know? That's only like the ... err... fourth time or something! So that ought to count for something. Such beautiful weather today, really stunning, sunny and delightful and all the leaves are starting to pop. Looks like it might be summer here after all. In other neeews, next week is the last for our annual project at school - we're lagging behind so it's going to be dirty, but there you go - it's not so easy to make games as what you might think! But then, we are hopefully finishing it one way or another, which means in turn, you can play it too! If you want.

Now where was I? OH! Yes, I have been so busy interneting that I have completely forgotten about breakfast. Can't survive on tea alone you know! Aaaand last but not least - before I go and ravage the fridge, here are the books I've bought this week:
(Of which, I have started three, but not finished one of 'em!)
"The Satanic Verses" by Salman Rushdie
"The Unbearable Lightness of Scones" by Alexander McCall Smith
"The Careful use of Compliments" by Alexander McCall Smith and
"Mistress Oriku, Stories of a Tokyo Teahouse" by Matsutaro Kawaguchi.

The End of Mr. Y

So yes, I have just finished "The End of Mr. Y" by Scarlett Thomas and I am just going to start by recommending it to all of you. At least all of you who feel like they are in for (and I quote): "... A thrilling adventure of love, sex, death and time-travel". Intrigued? Yes! So was I!

It's surely the best parallel universe since I don't know... Maybe Harry Potter? I couldn't put it away, even when it got scientific and philosophic. It's been glued to me for the past day and night. The humanity of this book is so intensely tangible, so frail, yet probably one of the strongest assets of this book, the characters. They are so brave, and so affected by emotion and compassion. Beside its tremendous theory - that will change your opinion on thought, and what thought is - this book is also absolutely packed with morale and love - all wrapped in a shell of her popping creativity. We get to discuss the youth of society, the effects of having a broken family, theories of language, faith and science - intertwined closely with the captivating narrative - a thrilling plot!

What a pleasure it has been, bobbing up and down in the refreshing waters of "The End of Mr. Y" and as I am happily still soaked in its cleverness - I hope this is not truly the end!

New Books!

The Oslo Tiger on Jernbanetorget.

Yesterday I want completely crazy and bought some new books after school. I just went into the bookshop and started browsing really. And I had just been looking for shoes in a shop further down, so torn not to have found a single desirable shoe. And then there were all these stories just piled up, all the way to the ceiling I suppose - and it was so easy to find something that I went scurrying from shelf to shelf, from crime to poetry to fiction. Though I did end up with a pile of only the latter - the freedom of reaching out and finding something nice was delightful.

So (you might not call me crazy, but I thought I was) I bought five new books. Because I needed to. I had to, in fact, I bought new books for all the good reasons for buying books that exists! I bought books because I deserved to, because I need something to read on the bus to work, because I love to read, because all the books I have I have read at least once (if I didn't like it) and some I've read six times! And I bought books because I am hungry for them, I look at other people reading and I envy them, you know. I wish I could sit there and dwell into a different world too.

Only this Easter I read three books, of which one of them I read for the third time. So the time was right. I can justify my insanity! Anyway - if you're interested, here are the purchases.

"After Dark" by Haruki Murakami (in Norwegian), which I've already finished, by the way, it was a little strange, and it was an interesting journey.
"The Swallows of Kabul" by Yasmina Khadra - which was brutal and horrible, it was good, very sorrowful though.
"The End of Mr. Y" by Scarlett Thomas
"20 Fragments of a Ravenous Youth" by Xiaolu Guo, which I've read by now, too. It wasn't particularly ravenous, but it gave an interesting insight of Bejing and the Chinese.
and "A Fine Balance" by Rohinton Mistry (in Norwegian).

What can I say? I better hurry up and read before I have to start to revise for exams! How are you, anyway? Here I am... Babbling about books! Please, do tell! :)

Books and my Easter

I'm back from Molde! (I came home Friday actually, but I have been way too lazy to tell you here, anyway). On your left hand you can see some pictures I took while there, mostly from the car though, but still! Whoptidoo.

Today the weather was really depressing, gray and wet, slight seeping rain clouding everything in a hushed mask of cold. On the positive side, I just finished the last book in the Twilight series! That means I read all four of them, "Twilight", "New Moon", "Eclipse" and "Breaking Dawn". I kind of liked them, they were a nice escape from reality (which means they have accomplished the most important task of a book). In some way I have been able to immerse in them, especially the first book - which made me feel all swoony like I believed in love, which was really nice. Obviously I don't need books to feel like that right now, so despite of their apparent ability to make your heart skip beats with the romantic spirit of a fifteen year old - there isn't really a lot to mention.

I am unable to put my finger on why I couldn't seem to devour them with the same thirst toward the end of the series, as the rhythm in the text was pretty much the same. I think it has to be because they were very chick-flicky and also extremely black and white. The good guys were very good (too good) and the bad ones were very bad, like evil. I thought the depth and diversity of the characters wasn't very impressive in other words. But I'm not going to critizise it for that, this is romance for goths and girls - a task it accomplishes perfectly. I wouldn't recommend them to anyone with many literary monsters beneath their belt, this is easily digested and easily enjoyed - unless you let yourself be annoyed by it's naïve blindness.

With an ability to let the defects fall through and with a little restraint - it's been a great read! Stephenie Meyer's writing can be very captivating at times, really. So thank you for that, Steph.

Right now I'm listening to "The Escape" by Harry's Gym - great Norwegian band. They have an extremely diverse sound, and many comforting elements to their songs. Wonderful. Definitely recommended. I hope everyone had a happy easter, too. I sure did myself! Sigrid was home for a bit, lurvely - and I met a lot of funky people out on Friday at Nicholas'. I think I'm still full from all the delicious food I ate in Molde (curtesy of Helge's mother) and the weather's been quite nice, so I am expecting summer even more eagerly than before!

Lighter than air

Everything is like a sugar high right now. My chest feels like it's so full of happiness it might explode! It's been so long since I've felt like this. I have felt sporadically happy the last few months - I have, but nothing like this. Not even comparable!

If you want to feel something similar I suggest you go listen to The Black Kids. Senseless, shameless happiness! Truly. Canned. Keep in handy for when you need some summer essence. Even though their music - and the glorious sunlight outside (and the fact that I babysat tonight and we made purple, turquoise and golden - glittery, feathery chickens for easter for hours) provides me with a great amount of happiness - I owe my current mood to the people I hang out with. Everything just seems so great at the moment. So, thank you!

I played the piano a little, and I "made" a song that I've called St. Prozac, it's quite short though, and I can't remember much of how to read notes so I just remember it in my head and in my fingers. That's quite incredible though, I think - that people are still able to create "new" music, at this pace - every melody should have been invented already. Pretty amazing. This world would suck so much without music. Speaking of which - I'm going to Roskilde this summer! Whoop! Yay! Forgive me for the complete lack of logic in this post. Here follows a list of books I have to read:

A Thousand Splendid Suns

The Da Vinci Code

The Inheritance Cycle (Eragon, Eldest and Brisingr)

The God Delusion

A Suitable Boy (both of them monstrous books)

My point precisely - Good night!

What I am reading

I handed in my laptop for service today. Such a great shame. I feel kind of lost without it. Don't know what was wrong with it either, yesterday it just didn't want to start anymore. But they're taking a backup of all my files - luckily the problem was not in the harddrive. So we'll see what happens.

As previously stated I am currently reading that "Twilight" book, the first book in Stephenie Meyer's series. It is most good, it really is. It is pushing absolutely all the right buttons, so I feel like I am walking around in a woozy state of being in love all the time - while as I am in reality laptop-less, cold and mostly lonely. How pathetic. But what a delight I have that book though.

It is a simple recipe really, and if I want to I can easily see through the author's tricks. But why would I do that? I don't want to do that. That would be stupid of me. That's why I read books, to escape from my quite uneventful reality. Whatever happened to the Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome that I ordered to come along and whisk me off my feet? Stuck in traffic?

On the other hand I am as usually being confronted with a main-character that shares many of the features with Becky Bloomwood in the "Shopaholic" book-series, Lena Kaligaris in "The Sisterhood of The Traveling Pants" and other equally annoyingly female book characters. I have to admit that Bella Swan is better than some of them, but I am still frustrated by the cowardness of presenting yet another shy, self-conscious, but obviously-very beautiful-without-realizing character. She appears to be complex, but she really isn't. And that bothers me slightly. On the other hand- again - why should I question it? This little escape decent, but this is without a doubt still a kiosk novel with outstanding qualities ready to appeal to any semi-goth, or semi-geeky, or just plain regular teenage girl.

Friends!

I feel a little left behind at the moment. It is like my eccentric personality has finally caught up with me in the end. Obviously I do not perceive it as punishment, as I am sure - if I wanted to know everyone I would know them now. But that's not the case. Everyone I DO know however, or most of them are -as you might be one of them, or at least know who they are - away for one reason or the other. And I have no problem with that, because that's not the problem. The problem is that I am not away. I am stuck here with all the snow, and I suddenly realize that I don't have anyone to play with!

In a way I have chosen my friends with a little too much care, perhaps. So now I am left eating too much food and watching American Idol - listen to Ye Meera Divanapan Hai over and over and similar activites. Like reading three massive novels in less than a month. I get to read a lot now that I don't have any friends! Right now I am reading both Cosa Nostra and the first Twilight book at the same time. Splendid. All the spare time even got me back into writing!

No really. Come home.

Glitter!

Sometimes I feel like there's not enough glitter in my life, or like there never really can be enough glitter either. 

We were out last night, so I've been fragile and a little reduced all day - but I got to see "Saawariya" again, so it was great, really! Just during the past months I've become more and more of a total Bollywood fan, I'm always searching for new, fun bollywood songs on youtube, or a good film on imdb. Even right now I'm listening to "My Dil Goes Hmm..." from the film "Salaam Namaste", it's terrible! Gosh, ever heard such a ridiculous song your entire life? Yeah? It means "My Heart Goes Hmm..." and it's horrible, it's just that it's so incredibly catchy.

I can't stop humming that song! Aaah! Still I don't want to see "Salaam Namaste" though, it looks lousy - especially in comparison to "Saawariya".  It doesn't look that esthetically appealing, where's the glitter, man?!

The glitter!

I'm on my third version of my romantic fairytale Soneera, I just never seem to get it right! But at the moment I'm extremely pleased, it's taking a popculture-tainted, dwelling atmosphere turn that I find appealing.

Soneera, based on a dream

I have yet again started to write a new book, which is terrible of me. It is a fairytale that I dreamt the other night, I just wanted to write it down as soon as possible, because I was afraid to lose the essence of it. Right? Working title is Soneera, which is a Sanskrit name that means "Clear Water" at least according to the internet. It is very much a fairytale, but also very much arabian nights and a little pshychedelic magic. Whoopdedoo!

As usual, music is playing a big part in this. While my other story P Lot was based on the song "Eve" by Emancipator, and AGXH-3 was based on "Being Bad Feels Really Good" by Does it Offend you Yeah? Soneera is based on "Curves" by Røyksopp and the soundtrack of Saawariya. It will be interesting to see how long this story will be actually, because technically my dream only lasted a couple of seconds.

Curves by Røyksopp:

What makes you sad just by thinking about it?

I took this picture in Lisbon last week.

Forgive me for not updating. It's not that I have so many things to do, it is just that I'm spending my time elaborately avoiding to do them. I wanted to make a post about sadness because Scandinavia can be a very depressing place at this time of year. Sure it is Christmas, but it is also extremely dark and cold. It's dark when you get up and dark when you come home. People are saddened by many things, loneliness, darkness, films, books, music - could be whatever. I just wanted to know what makes you sad.

These things I have listed below make me above averagely sad just by thinking about them, you'll probably have me in tears by the end of this post.

Bits in films that make me cry excessively: 

That part in Fur, when Diane tries to breathe in the air that late Lionel blew into the inflatable mattress.

The ending of Bin Jip when Sun-Wha and Tae-Suk are weightless when standing together on the scale.

When all the Who's in Horton Hears a Who try to make enough noise to save themselves.

In Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon, when Master Li Mu Bai and Yu Shu Lien, dying admit they have always loved each other.

The flashbacks in Dead Mans Shoes. (Definitely one of the best films I've ever seen, I'm not going to link to it, because it's best to not know anything about it and just see it!)

When All Cats Are Grey by The Cure starts to play in Marie Antoinette. 

When Kunlun starts to run wearing the cape of Snow Wolf in The Promise.

When Donnie and Gretchen are separated in Donnie Darko. 

When Jin sings to Xiao Mei while holding her in his arms in the snow in House of Flying Daggers.

When the messenger is waving the flag of failure in Hero.

Songs that makes me cry:

(Even just by hearing a snippet!)

Your Eyes Open by Keane.

Silent Sigh by Badly Drawn Boy.

O Mio Bambino Caro (Puccini) sung by Renee Fleming.

Green Eyes by Coldplay.

Any song Thomas Dybdahl has ever made, especially Henry.

Freedom of the Wa by Klaus Badelt.

The Man Who Flew Away by Husky Rescue.

Curves by Röyksopp.

Pulling Our Weight by The Radio Department.

The Drugs Don't Work by The Verve.

Books that make me cry:

Because of Winn-Dixie by Kate DiKamillo and Flowers for Algernon by Daniel Keyes, every flippin single time I read them. There are tons of other books that makes me cry, but these two books can make my bottom lip quiver just by thinking about them. 

Not to forget these three films that leaves me a little smudgy pulp with swollen eyes for several weeks at a time: ,

Juno, Bambi and Dumbo. 

I am extremely easily affected by these kind of things, and I believe that to be the reason why I'm almost always happy! All the above genuinely makes me sad and I can end up crying myself to sleep, but by the time I get over it (either by heavy Sean The Sheep or Knudsen & Ludvigsen therapy) I feel so light it's as if I could fly away any moment. Crying about one thing is a great way to get rid of other emotional luggage that is already in the system I suppose!

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.

Glad to see me?

We like dogs because they can be happy on a completely random basis. Their happiness and their affection toward us is pretty much conditionless - only thing we have to do is to on occasion scratch them behind the ears and give them a really silly smile. And really this is the most brainless smile we have, I feel silly just thinking about that smile. The only thing that can possibly make us look more ridiculous than when we are encountering our dog after coming home from work - is at the confrontation of babies.

It is rather harsh that some of the most easy to please always have to see our intimidating side. I consider myself a relatively happy person that can get easily excited from the most simple things - like christmaslights or soap bubbles. Thankfully, I am no longer a babychild and I am not a dog anymore either, so even though I am glad to see someone I don't have to put up with them snuggling their cheeks against my hands, or making me lick them far up their noses while giggling at me.

While our hopeless behaviour seems to be received with joy, I am starting to think that the positive response is based upon panic and fear. Actually they should be screaming and running away from us when we enter the room! They should write a bookabout it! Shouldn't they? The Art of Baby & Dog Etiquette, a book that can slaughter the myths of how they take pleasure in our madness. It would only be fair to be honest. After all we've put them through.

Sad stuff

Oooooh! I've got some drama for you! Some really depressing stuff. It is part of my new writing project, which is complicated. I've got most of the synopsis ready, so if you want me to I'll post it over at Fiction Chickens. (This piece of text is actually a part of "Ae ou oey").

He pressed her bird-like skeleton hard against him, her cold, white, shivering skin against his coat. The mute snowflakes rained slowly down on her hair, her chapped lips muttered, and even though it was silent – he could not hear what she said. Underneath her swollen eyelids he could see her dark eyes, tears emitting from them like walls of hot glass. And he could hear her now, with her dark hair wet and messy, clinging to her face, frozen lips saying his name.

She was shaking, her heart beat slower than he remembered, maybe because she had grown, maybe because she was dying.

He too –now shaking, whispered her name, squeezed her tight, tucked her wet hair behind her ears, held on to her small, freezing hands. The snow was as white as her, like porcelain. And he knew he would always love her. And no matter how long he would have to wait for help – he would not give up waiting this time. He would wait until they came, even though the blizzard would take his life, he would wait. And he would find no rest until they came for her. Came and helped her, warmed her up, made her laugh again. And at that point he refused to let go, so he stood up – with her shivering body in his arms. And on what was left of his exhausted feet; he started walking towards the city.

It was so strange because he could see the lights of the thousands of people that lived there.
But he knew none of the thousand people were looking at them, where they stood, even though she shone as the brightest light of them all.

Mother of invention, the underdog

In Norwegian class at school this semester, we have quite a big assignment about literature. We are set to read from 2-3 novels by one Norwegian author, or 2-3 novels by different Norwegian authors about the same theme. We are then to interpret, explain, analyze and by all means rip the books apart with words on a giant paper we are going to write about it. And I mean giant.

So, I have had some difficulty picking what authors I want to read, and I am running out of time on making a decision. There are many good authors out there, even good Norwegian authors, but at the moment I am not really that inspired - not with reading, writing Or drawing for that sake. I am trying to focus, but all I do is I pick things up and then fiddle with them a bit before putting them down again only to glare with an uninterested intensity at them.

Of course this draught happens every now and then, and only movies, music and literature is what which can kick my inspiration back into action, and everything will be sunny and simple again. So I was thinking, and only hypothetically; that perhaps if I did it well enough, I could invent a Norwegian author, three great plots and play around with them as I liked - if there's something I wouldn't understand, or if I ever got stuck - I could just mould it into what I want it to be like! I mean, I could come with the most deep interpretations, spout as much shit as I would like - and basically be free to do with it as I like.

Not would it just be a) exciting, b) challenging and by all means c) rewarding (if I can do it), but it would also be d) a great inspiration and something I could learn something from!

With a bit of internet-magickz, perhaps I could forge a bit of a story!

It's only a thought, but you know, maybe it'd be fun!

Cleo is wearing a funny corset to prevent her from licking her wounds

Spiderpig, spiderpig, does whatever a spiderpig does

I have very recently swallowed the new Potter book whole, "Harry Potter and The Deathly Hallows" was devoured, enjoyed and digested within two days. Of course I will make no comment on the contents or tell any secrets, because the words are so precious to me I could never dream of ruining them for you.

Naturally I admit, at parts it felt like she had run dry, and all this blabber about emotions made me tired, the result was that I got even more sad when something bad happened though, I cried - and big fat tears too, sobbing uncontrollably for certain periods of the book.
Though all in all I think Rowling finished it quite smoothly, perhaps the ending - the last word was 'good' - came as not short of an anti-climax to me. Not unexpectedly she made sure to tie all ends so that you knew the adventures of Harry Potter now are over, and even though she have made this quite clear to the press, I felt a little sting of disappointment.

The only thing which in this minute is keeping my mangled spirits up is that there is a slight chance that she might write other books, if not about that particular world which she has created, but maybe about something else. I'm not denying to be pointlessly attracted to the magical universe of Potter, I'm just saying that her enchanting writing will still be enjoyable to me, no matter what package it arrives in. Well nearly no matter.

For your own sake I hope you have not stayed clear of the seven books about Harry Potter, the controversy and publicity is not always overblown, I assure you, you will enjoy this. And if you are, much like I am now, lost with the feeling of dullness and insignificance after reading any of the books, I have several methods to get you out of the "Potter Depression Syndrome". I have, however the need for some new methods, so if you know any - please keep me posted. Thank you.

Perhaps, in desperation I am going to read this whole piece about How to Stop Being a People Pleaser in WikiHow, I have always been such a shameless pushover.

Ssssshiiiireeeeee, Bagginsssssss

This wonderful woman has made her very own Bilbo Baggins mini-home!
It's absolutely fantastic!

I want to make one too!