And the other day (actually that was today, earlier today, just a few moments ago) I experienced that my chocolate was leaving crumbs all over. And I think "Oh! A Chocolate crumble!" but it's not. I know what you're thinking, it wasn't mice poop. I know you have rather low thoughts about my lodgings, but please...
Anyway, you are doomed if you get chocolate crumbs on you. Because when you try to pick it up - it melts right away. Right into the fabric. It truly is hopeless.
And I am faced with these situations on days like these when I have postponed this extremely awful assignment to the last moment and punish myself with chocolate. Because I deserve it.
Chocolate crumbs!
fml.
Showing posts with label paranoia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label paranoia. Show all posts
2
Games for Wii - and stalking
As you all know I bought a Wii! And I finally got to give it a spin last night - I do have a lot of experience with Wii previously - but not with the games that I've dutifully played the last few days!
I tried "Eledees" first, which had me at hello with its adorable packaging and delicious colours. The game in itself however lacks charm in every way. The Eledees are electric creatures that you search for, find and collect using a "gun" of sorts - pointing at the screen with the Wii-remote. You can use the power (in Watts) from the Eledees to turn on lights and electrical appliances. And this is about as interesting as it gets. The house has zero personality, like the characters - and it has about as much depth as the vague, slapped-on story that is so extremely lame I wont even bother retell it.
I did find pleasure in wrecking the place completely in my desperate search for more Eledees. This meagre pleasure was ruined though - when the game then for no reason required me to be quiet and handle anything breakable with care. If I exceeded the noise limit or broke six things - the game ended. Thanks a lot. How to make a slightly fun game, a completely lame one. The wonderfullness of the packaging was clearly outsourced as the game reflected only some kind of nine-to-five teal-coloured retirement home.
But then I played "De Blob" and I was excited beyond reason. As the lead of a colourful revolution against the reign of the black and white, evil "INKT" - De Blob (a blob taking on any colour) bounces around the pale world and brings colour, charm and happiness with him by colouring everything -- buildings, trees and citizens. His likewise oppressive crew "Color Underground" helps him along and gives plenty of challenges along the way.
This is easy, straightforward, nothing amazing - with excellent little clips in-between levels that convey a simple story in a slapstick-charming way. This is a wonderful game for children, needless to say - a perfect game for me too! This totally sucked me in and I'm enjoying it a lot. Progress is clearly visible and you get special achievements for having coloured all the trees, all the landmarks or completing all the challenges etc. The controls in combination with the occaisonally straying camera can be a little disheartening and unprecise at times, but that usually is the fate of most Wii games - and when something doesn't work as intended - it's usually my own fault.
I kept waiting for the Achievement screen to pop up, but then I remembered I wasn't playing on the Xbox! Silly me.
So yes, there you go - one definite "stay away!" and one "warmly recommended!"
And when it comes to stalking, I was only going to say that I find myself stalking Helge almost every day. I put his clothes on so I smell like him and then I feel all warm and fuzzy walking around the apartment. Pretty scary you think? I'd be scared of me, too. Trust me. I actually am, a little bit.
I did find pleasure in wrecking the place completely in my desperate search for more Eledees. This meagre pleasure was ruined though - when the game then for no reason required me to be quiet and handle anything breakable with care. If I exceeded the noise limit or broke six things - the game ended. Thanks a lot. How to make a slightly fun game, a completely lame one. The wonderfullness of the packaging was clearly outsourced as the game reflected only some kind of nine-to-five teal-coloured retirement home.
This is easy, straightforward, nothing amazing - with excellent little clips in-between levels that convey a simple story in a slapstick-charming way. This is a wonderful game for children, needless to say - a perfect game for me too! This totally sucked me in and I'm enjoying it a lot. Progress is clearly visible and you get special achievements for having coloured all the trees, all the landmarks or completing all the challenges etc. The controls in combination with the occaisonally straying camera can be a little disheartening and unprecise at times, but that usually is the fate of most Wii games - and when something doesn't work as intended - it's usually my own fault.
I kept waiting for the Achievement screen to pop up, but then I remembered I wasn't playing on the Xbox! Silly me.
So yes, there you go - one definite "stay away!" and one "warmly recommended!"
And when it comes to stalking, I was only going to say that I find myself stalking Helge almost every day. I put his clothes on so I smell like him and then I feel all warm and fuzzy walking around the apartment. Pretty scary you think? I'd be scared of me, too. Trust me. I actually am, a little bit.
by
Tora
Luxurious poverty
There is just so much that has to be safely acquired and stored within the four walls of our apartment right now.
There is "Alan Wake" and "Red Dead Redemption", we do have our precious toaster now - but what about all the films we need? We need "Avatar" for some safe get-away, there's both series and the special episode of "Green Wing", and I haven't actually BOUGHT Keane's "Night Train" either. So this'll be crazy! And I need a phone, because I am currently exploiting the kindness of my younger brother by borrowing his old one. And I should get some new summer shoes... And a shelf for the DVD's and a dresser in the hall, and snowboard goggles and boots for next season. That alone could shake you thin!
But then when I have all these things. Who needs money? :D I will be very busy, and very very happy for a very very long time. Exactly the way I am now.
Floorboard Dining
Yeah, I wish I could explain this. But I just found it, and as far as I recall it was an idea I had for a videogame about apple jam.
I think we are getting just a slight bit obsessed with this bacteria thing. There's anti-bacterial soaps and wet-wipes and if we get the chance we'd carry antibacterial in aerosol cans and just give us a body splash whenever. And when the bacon-flu "struck as worst" we couldn't possibly have gotten more phobic. Every snort, every hiccup, every leaf falling - it was the sound of a lung-splitting, pus-spraying showering sneeze evenly coating your presence in a wiggling film of deadly flu.
I can't say I didn't take precautions either. But I work in a shop and had a lot of contact with random people - and also their infected money - but didn't catch it. At least I don't think I did. and I haven't got a clue why, it really didn't make much sense. Hey, I even ate from the floor!
Some people think it is disgusting to pick up food you've dropped and eating it anyway. And sure, I wouldn't do it in most public places. Tee hee. But you must understand that it has merely become a part of my lifestyle because I have no choice. A human with my coordination, and with my love for food - what am I supposed to do?
Can you even imagine how skinny I would've been if I didn't eat whatever I dropped?! Maybe I wouldn't even exist!
Whhuueeeooaaa?! Oh, and I don't eat muesli off the floor usually.
And Cleo, you better move in with me, because I am eating much more off the floor now that you can't beat me to it.
Err. And what about you,? Do you eat things from the floor?
Weirdos and Children
A strange man with a walrus mustache (it really made him look like a walrus!) was peeking into the shop today, while talking to himself. This side of town surely has its rich selection of originals, I must say. There's the one-legged guy playing fetch with his invisible dog, the hairy one who sits in the park and drinks beer, the one with the glasses taking the bus back and forth all day, drinking chocolate milk - and there's the creepy lady with the shopping bags that really does look like a living dead, but who surprisingly talks and behaves frighteningly sane and actually quite nice. That is, when she is not wandering around slooowly, staring right ahead. So far on the other side to where I have moved now, I have noticed nothing weirder than the old drunks sitting on the railroad-bridge far up the main street.
But I suppose I'll find them soon enough, and I mean, the stereotype football-supporters are definitely there, and I think they are quite weird. I do. Speaking of weird there is also a primary school near us and all these first graders are walking alone to school - which is fine, but it hit me how small they are. I mean, this might seem like an outrage to you, but - children are tiny! They really are! I don't know at what point I was supposed to realize - because as a child I always thought grown-ups were so enormous - and obviously I am one of them now. But it just hasn't quite set previously.
I remember as a child whenever I was with my dads side of the family who are all part American or American - or Norwegian and they would often speak English to each other. I guess sometimes you can just express yourself a lot better in English, but I was always frightened when they were talking over my head like that, I never told anyone but I was convinced they were plotting to eat me. I was actually really scared.
That's a way growing up, huh? Later I have discovered that they usually just say uninteresting things when talking above the childrens heads anyway, well - at least not half as interesting as it would be if they were planning to eat someone.
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But I suppose I'll find them soon enough, and I mean, the stereotype football-supporters are definitely there, and I think they are quite weird. I do. Speaking of weird there is also a primary school near us and all these first graders are walking alone to school - which is fine, but it hit me how small they are. I mean, this might seem like an outrage to you, but - children are tiny! They really are! I don't know at what point I was supposed to realize - because as a child I always thought grown-ups were so enormous - and obviously I am one of them now. But it just hasn't quite set previously.
I remember as a child whenever I was with my dads side of the family who are all part American or American - or Norwegian and they would often speak English to each other. I guess sometimes you can just express yourself a lot better in English, but I was always frightened when they were talking over my head like that, I never told anyone but I was convinced they were plotting to eat me. I was actually really scared.
That's a way growing up, huh? Later I have discovered that they usually just say uninteresting things when talking above the childrens heads anyway, well - at least not half as interesting as it would be if they were planning to eat someone.
.JPG)
The clouds from the car.
Efterklang at Chateau Neuf, it was lovely.
Shared two buckets of beer with Ulrik.
Random grafitti about the bird flu.
Make-up
I don't know why we spend so much of our lives trying to improve the way we look. It is probably the biggest and most common obsession of all humans (perhaps except from among Lapps and Eskimos, generally - the people in the snow have given up). I don't know, I think I spend about twenty minutes - half an hour a day (at least) trying to fudge on my mask of sanity before leaving the house, not to mention trying to shape my birdly head-nest into something that would at least look like hair. But then I do wear a lot of make-up, more than anyone I know who's not a goth, anyway. And so I guess this time-consuming process is more dominating in my world than in others.
Not only do I spend (probably at an average) three and a half hours a week just trying to look sane, but I am always left at a loss on the "nightwear" rule. Because the basic rule when you go out bar-hopping, clubbing or to a party somewhere - is that you do this wearing about 30% more make-up than you do in the daytime. This means I have to spend about an hour wedging my face on with an ironing board, two buckets of cement, a sledgehammer and a fondue fork (whilst curling my head-nest with a bunch of heavy-duty bolsters*). -- And I regularly come out looking as a clown anyway, absolutely nada like Megan Fox. Nada.
So, if you like me, sometimes feel like beauty-treatment and cosmetics is taking over your life (Audun); save time on grooming by skipping showers. You can simply simulate that you're showering while on the bus to school. Apparently this method is
A. Entertaining
B. Fun to do
C. Relatively dry (unless someone spit on you)
D. Cheap - saves the hot water, and the shampoo!
So, as I can't seem to rid myself of the habit on wearing face-paint before entering every day warfare, for now I am simply going to infuse my invigoriting cassoulet of smells with a splurt of sweat and a knob of pollution that's been allowed to yeast in my pores for a little while longer!
Now that's pretty disgusting! Smudge some pus on the bus!
*For you curious types - yes, apparently the make-up ritual is quizzically similar to construction work
Ex-ham
Many hams live in our modern society, everything from roasted ham with mustard, to christmas ham, parma ham or traditional Norwegian cured ham live alongside us every day. In the name of fine cut pork rump - they have delighted and enriched our primitive cultures for hundreds of years, helping us become civilized and fantastic. Needless to say, the human to ham ratio is a tranquil and beautiful symbiosis. In fact, this is one of the finest examples of how food and mankind can collaborate and recreate peacefully in the name of love.
But of late our once very bright and shiny lifestyle has been increasingly threatened by dark, looming clouds. Statistics reveal that over 19,5% of teen hams suffer from various types of either reactive- or endogenous depression or bipolar disorder, while a shocking amount of 36% of fully cured hams bear the same symptoms. A common result of this is that hundreds of hams each year simply stop being hams altogether.
Those who stop being hams are known as "ex-hams", while they aren't always sneered upon - it is common that even the most persistent ham is never able to return to a normal life. This is known as "hamlessness". Most ham societies reject their hamless and leave it upon us humans to pick up the sorry rests of them.
By the heart and eager of many charity organizations most hamless are emitted into a "Help the Hamless" program where they are given a new home and a shoulder to cry on. But despite the kindness of many merciful souls, millions of "hamless" or "ex-hams" still linger helplessly in the dark alleys and streets of our cities. The depressive state and feeling of hopelessness that the ex-hams are going through is similar to that of what millions of students suffer each year - of which we have derived the term "Ex-am", or "Examination".
You should because of that not be surprised by the suicide rate of hamless hams, and how this indirectly results in deceitful curriculums that change overnight, angry old teachers that rolls dice to determine your grade - or simply the fact that it will be beautiful and sunny and everyone but you will have fun for the entire duration of your revising period. This terrible commotion is usually topped with an awful gnawing feeling in your stomach and an increased lust for ham, or more commonly - bacon. While as this does sound terrible.
At least, you're not dead.
Good luck with your exams everyone!
But of late our once very bright and shiny lifestyle has been increasingly threatened by dark, looming clouds. Statistics reveal that over 19,5% of teen hams suffer from various types of either reactive- or endogenous depression or bipolar disorder, while a shocking amount of 36% of fully cured hams bear the same symptoms. A common result of this is that hundreds of hams each year simply stop being hams altogether.
Those who stop being hams are known as "ex-hams", while they aren't always sneered upon - it is common that even the most persistent ham is never able to return to a normal life. This is known as "hamlessness". Most ham societies reject their hamless and leave it upon us humans to pick up the sorry rests of them.
By the heart and eager of many charity organizations most hamless are emitted into a "Help the Hamless" program where they are given a new home and a shoulder to cry on. But despite the kindness of many merciful souls, millions of "hamless" or "ex-hams" still linger helplessly in the dark alleys and streets of our cities. The depressive state and feeling of hopelessness that the ex-hams are going through is similar to that of what millions of students suffer each year - of which we have derived the term "Ex-am", or "Examination".
You should because of that not be surprised by the suicide rate of hamless hams, and how this indirectly results in deceitful curriculums that change overnight, angry old teachers that rolls dice to determine your grade - or simply the fact that it will be beautiful and sunny and everyone but you will have fun for the entire duration of your revising period. This terrible commotion is usually topped with an awful gnawing feeling in your stomach and an increased lust for ham, or more commonly - bacon. While as this does sound terrible.
At least, you're not dead.
Good luck with your exams everyone!
I don't like you!
I think Norway kind of overloaded as we won the Eurovision songcontest on the very night before our national day. Everyone were running around in the streets screaming, singing "Fairytale". On my way (running) late for work today, I heard it thump out of a taxi window. And on May 17th everyone we're just so excited that they almost talked to strangers. Which is extremely rare up here, we pretty much stick to our own.
The only exception is on May 17th, because nothing is such a grand display of unity and of loving thy neighbour as the disgusting behaviour of Norwegians on May 17th. It's almost unappetizing. But being a reflected young woman, being influenced by other cultures and lifestyles through the wonders of globalization I manage to realize that perhaps the warm and hearty approach we have to strangers on this exceptional day - should be how we always behave towards each other. We could obviously skip a couple of the overly gooey gestures, but keep the concept at least, of being pleasant to things we're unfamiliar with.
We can't exactly hide the fact that our "civilized" population ia absolutely packed with prejudices. Particularly racism. I don't think it shines through very clearly a lot of the time because the topic is so extremely taboo, and everyone are being so meticulous about disguising it as being racist is considered medieval and primitive - which is true, obviously.
It's just that some types of racism is difficult to cloak, Norwegians hate strangers, we really do. I wont say we are abnormally paranoid or hostile, it's just that we're so evasive. We avoid confrontations, just like we're avoiding the problem at hand. We wont trust anyone with anything, but if we do as an exception, we wont hesitate to say "I told you so" if it goes wrong. We get along with our neighbours just because we have to. And we're also positively the first to break out a prejudicive remark or crack a joke on the topic. It comes extremely natural to us, perhaps a little bit too much.
I'm not saying we're all like that, an extraordinary lot of us are enjoying the variety of people, food, music, work, art or whatnot that is brought to us from other cultures and adopted by our own. I wonder how often a Norwegian haves taco, or stir fry, or chicken tikka masala or even just kebab without actually considering how lucky we are to be able to enjoy this delighful variety of foods - and why. Well hello you, I tell you something - your grandpa sure as hell didn't dig the chicken tikka out of the ground at his classical Norwegian farm. This topic is actually quite hard to write about, because it's so moronically unlogical.
But anyway, a japanese couple came into the shop and bought a lot of cutlery from me, they were so joyous that they gave me a piece of chocolate before they left! Thank you!
The only exception is on May 17th, because nothing is such a grand display of unity and of loving thy neighbour as the disgusting behaviour of Norwegians on May 17th. It's almost unappetizing. But being a reflected young woman, being influenced by other cultures and lifestyles through the wonders of globalization I manage to realize that perhaps the warm and hearty approach we have to strangers on this exceptional day - should be how we always behave towards each other. We could obviously skip a couple of the overly gooey gestures, but keep the concept at least, of being pleasant to things we're unfamiliar with.
We can't exactly hide the fact that our "civilized" population ia absolutely packed with prejudices. Particularly racism. I don't think it shines through very clearly a lot of the time because the topic is so extremely taboo, and everyone are being so meticulous about disguising it as being racist is considered medieval and primitive - which is true, obviously.
It's just that some types of racism is difficult to cloak, Norwegians hate strangers, we really do. I wont say we are abnormally paranoid or hostile, it's just that we're so evasive. We avoid confrontations, just like we're avoiding the problem at hand. We wont trust anyone with anything, but if we do as an exception, we wont hesitate to say "I told you so" if it goes wrong. We get along with our neighbours just because we have to. And we're also positively the first to break out a prejudicive remark or crack a joke on the topic. It comes extremely natural to us, perhaps a little bit too much.
I'm not saying we're all like that, an extraordinary lot of us are enjoying the variety of people, food, music, work, art or whatnot that is brought to us from other cultures and adopted by our own. I wonder how often a Norwegian haves taco, or stir fry, or chicken tikka masala or even just kebab without actually considering how lucky we are to be able to enjoy this delighful variety of foods - and why. Well hello you, I tell you something - your grandpa sure as hell didn't dig the chicken tikka out of the ground at his classical Norwegian farm. This topic is actually quite hard to write about, because it's so moronically unlogical.
But anyway, a japanese couple came into the shop and bought a lot of cutlery from me, they were so joyous that they gave me a piece of chocolate before they left! Thank you!
Took this by the river. Norway is pretty in the spring. No?
The Bacon-Flu
It has been decided that I love the chosen one most. No, really. I gathered that people are becoming quite paranoid about this whole swine-flu thing. So before you defenestrate all your house-pigs and shriek your heart out while running for the hills - take a breather and read the information below. It is simply some very basic precautions and procedures for the endurance of the Swine Flu pandemic, and it goes like this:
1. To prevent any more panic, the Swine flu is from now on known as The Bacon-Flu, because it sounds much nicer and not so scary.
2. If contaminated with the Bacon-Flu - make sure to draw a pig's nose on your face mask to warn others when out in public.
3. To improve your immune system, add a spoon of cod liver oil to your cornflakes every day.
4. Keep a wickedly gorgeous hairdo, like that of Noel Fielding, to fend off the virus.
5. Listen intently to Untrust Us by Crystal Castles to stimulate your underground electric look and keep in shape.
6. Bacon can be eaten as normal, the subtype H1N1 (Bacon - Flu) does supposedly not transmit through food.
Drink!
Don't forget Earth Hour today at 8:30 p.m. (your own local time!)
Today I've had almost an entire carton of Innocent mango and passionfruit smoothie - though Suzanne had a little bit too. I think smoothie might be one of the best things ever, seriously. It's so incredibly delicious and this one was so thick it was almost creamy (like Bailey's - mm, creamy!) but i mean there are loads of things that are nice to drink.
-- Like ice-cold Norwegian tap water! Mm! Seriously, it's possibly the best beverage out there. In a way it is almost worth it to visit Norway just to have a nice big, dewy glass of refreshing tap water. Yum. We have the best water in the world.
The texture and appearance of water has actually always fascinated me. It's so weird that something so powerful and heavy can be see-through like air - or that it can smell like nothing, and feel so different depending on the temperature of it. Oh! And that it can be hard as ice, soft like snow or just untagible as steam! Also I love the sound of running water, the light tinkling and the calm rythm of it - or the sound of it being poured out of a bottle in glugs. That's such a wonderful sound!
The thing about drinks is that it has (just like food) developed from being just thirst-quenchers - actually some have even completely deranged from being so - to become symbols of social status, objects of fashion - reflecting our inner self. When "Sex & The City" hit its peak - everybody drunk cosmopolitan. Or when Bond in "Casino Royale" differed from his usual choice of shaken martini and ordered a new drink (called a Vesper). Which according to the film is made like this: "Three measures of Gordon's (gin), one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it very well until it's ice-cold, then add a large thin slice of lemon-peel". - The sales figures for Kina Lillet shot through the roof.
It is no longer considered high fashion to drink Coca Cola, in some circumstances I bet it's even looked down upon (not where I hang out). What's in the 'now', then? Organic? Without additives? One of your 'five a day'? No, wait, it's 'good for you' - isn't it? Silly? Yes I think so. But it is ever so much part of our life as consumers as of any other aspect of our lifestyle. We always do unhealthy things to our body - eat things we know are not good for us - smoke, drink alcohol, vanity surgery, you know. It's not necessarily because the brands and manufacturers are shouting at us from every angle, or that we do it because we know it'a unhealthy - right? We (in most part, I would think) do these things because it tastes good, or makes us feel good.
And we allow ourselves to be manipulated on this part, like I would buy almost anything that looks good, I know that - I'm weak. We like to be surrounded by things that please us, it's only natural. What surprises me then - is that people would make their choice out of guilt. Choose the sugar free alternative "even though it doesn't taste as good" or buy the organic option "despite the fact that the colour is a bit off". Like, hey! What happened? We should be responsible, I really think that we should. We should take adult decisions that reflect what we think is the mature, sustainable thing to do. We should not be made puppets of the average opinion, and live life based on what others tell us to do. Organic products aren't even good for the environment - least of all sustainable! We should rather choose because we - ourselves - truly believe it is the right thing to do by our own, free will. And this is hard, because we are subconciously brainwashed by the opinions of 'the world in general'. So what is the right choice then?
If we think the unhealthy option is right, then just chooce this treat less often, and rather do and eat, wear and drink the things we really like without feeling bad about it. Nothing makes life worth living like a bit of sin in between all the good-doing. And that's because life is just like a box of chocolates, by each bite we get fatter and fatter, but we still drink Bailey's - because it's mMm, creamy!
Today I've had almost an entire carton of Innocent mango and passionfruit smoothie - though Suzanne had a little bit too. I think smoothie might be one of the best things ever, seriously. It's so incredibly delicious and this one was so thick it was almost creamy (like Bailey's - mm, creamy!) but i mean there are loads of things that are nice to drink.
-- Like ice-cold Norwegian tap water! Mm! Seriously, it's possibly the best beverage out there. In a way it is almost worth it to visit Norway just to have a nice big, dewy glass of refreshing tap water. Yum. We have the best water in the world.
The texture and appearance of water has actually always fascinated me. It's so weird that something so powerful and heavy can be see-through like air - or that it can smell like nothing, and feel so different depending on the temperature of it. Oh! And that it can be hard as ice, soft like snow or just untagible as steam! Also I love the sound of running water, the light tinkling and the calm rythm of it - or the sound of it being poured out of a bottle in glugs. That's such a wonderful sound!
The thing about drinks is that it has (just like food) developed from being just thirst-quenchers - actually some have even completely deranged from being so - to become symbols of social status, objects of fashion - reflecting our inner self. When "Sex & The City" hit its peak - everybody drunk cosmopolitan. Or when Bond in "Casino Royale" differed from his usual choice of shaken martini and ordered a new drink (called a Vesper). Which according to the film is made like this: "Three measures of Gordon's (gin), one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet. Shake it very well until it's ice-cold, then add a large thin slice of lemon-peel". - The sales figures for Kina Lillet shot through the roof.
It is no longer considered high fashion to drink Coca Cola, in some circumstances I bet it's even looked down upon (not where I hang out). What's in the 'now', then? Organic? Without additives? One of your 'five a day'? No, wait, it's 'good for you' - isn't it? Silly? Yes I think so. But it is ever so much part of our life as consumers as of any other aspect of our lifestyle. We always do unhealthy things to our body - eat things we know are not good for us - smoke, drink alcohol, vanity surgery, you know. It's not necessarily because the brands and manufacturers are shouting at us from every angle, or that we do it because we know it'a unhealthy - right? We (in most part, I would think) do these things because it tastes good, or makes us feel good.
And we allow ourselves to be manipulated on this part, like I would buy almost anything that looks good, I know that - I'm weak. We like to be surrounded by things that please us, it's only natural. What surprises me then - is that people would make their choice out of guilt. Choose the sugar free alternative "even though it doesn't taste as good" or buy the organic option "despite the fact that the colour is a bit off". Like, hey! What happened? We should be responsible, I really think that we should. We should take adult decisions that reflect what we think is the mature, sustainable thing to do. We should not be made puppets of the average opinion, and live life based on what others tell us to do. Organic products aren't even good for the environment - least of all sustainable! We should rather choose because we - ourselves - truly believe it is the right thing to do by our own, free will. And this is hard, because we are subconciously brainwashed by the opinions of 'the world in general'. So what is the right choice then?
If we think the unhealthy option is right, then just chooce this treat less often, and rather do and eat, wear and drink the things we really like without feeling bad about it. Nothing makes life worth living like a bit of sin in between all the good-doing. And that's because life is just like a box of chocolates, by each bite we get fatter and fatter, but we still drink Bailey's - because it's mMm, creamy!
Opportunities
I wonder how often we end up doing something by choice - only later to get that pressing feeling that "it all just happened so fast". Our perception of a situation definitely changes over time. I know of a moment I have felt like a complete idiot - in retrospect I have replayed every annoying second over and over in my head - but when I have mentioned that particular idiotic situation later, I have been praised for my actions. Gah! I know! We poison our own memory, don't we?We are too hard on ourselves. Especially Norwegians I'd say. We often get complexes on how we appear to others because standing out of the crowd isn't considered "safe". We got shops here called "Blend" - because to blend in is a good thing. We undermine our ability to be unique (both in appearance) and in qualities. We think we have to be good at everything and look like a supermodel. The result is that we get depressed on how average we look and our skills seem - because we don't ace every subject and get laid every fortnight. That's because people aren't like that, we're bound to be restricted in some areas because we're not wonderwoman! (Not all of us, Sigrid). And it may sound like an excuse to underachieve - but actually it should rather be an inspiration to really gleam and be confident about the things we know how to do.
If Norwegians got better at clearing their (our) throat and step up and show what they (we) can do - well, I am sure at least some Americans would feel momentarily impressed, even intimidated. And even though being confident is often misconcepted as being supercilious and arrogant - there's a middle way. It is actually possible to act like you know what you're doing in a convincing and enriching way without being a bitch about it.
We let opportunities slip by "so quickly" I think, because we think it is wrong to be better than others. What truly is wrong though, is to be as bad as everyone else. So don't let yourself be kept down in fear of people raising their brow at you, especially not if you are going to hate yourself for it later.
Ravenous Röyksopp
As you may be well aware of - Röyksopp have shockingly allowed their entire new album (Junior) to be heard for free on their website even though the official release date isn't until March 23rd. Pretty far out!But on the other hand everything leaks out on the interwebs pre-release anyway-- so they might as well pretend like they approve of it. And all the fans are most likely going to purchase the album anyway (and if not - that still doesn't matter) as most their income from this release will probably be from live performances. So far I'm really falling from the track featuring Lykke Li - "Miss it So Much" it's cotton-candy sweet, an excellent tune - really. I'm not yet convinced, but I'll listen through some more while paying attention and then come back to you with a full review (if you like).
Also a kick to prejudice in general. I am so sick of it. What is the point of judging everything by its cover? Nobody has anything to earn from it, not short term, not long term. Nothing. In fact - the most inspiring and rewarding acts are those of allowing to be influenced by new impulses, meeting new people, new cultures, new music - new ways of life. While some may have reason to be sceptical, nobody have reason enough to treat other people unfairly when they don't even know them. Just like with gays! Who people kiss or sleep with really isn't any of my business just like who I kiss and sleep with is no one elses business. So as long as I don't get judged by who I love - I wont judge anyone by the same.
I feel we have the right to be judgmental when someone is getting hurt - and sometimes the one getting judged is the victim. So when you are being judgmental, you are worse than anyone. If I catch you doing it - I wont be merciful in my verdict!
I'm hungry :<
(Illustration done in paint.net)
43,2 - and You!
I'm sure Foss get's his little bum slapped more often than this blog gets a hit (which is in this moment at average 43,2 hits per day over the past two years and eleven days). Considering that I visit this blog about thirty times a day, and sometimes I double-click the refresh button, added with the "followers" of this blog - means about 2 hits are done by random people I don't know each day. Statistically. Which is interesting. Who are you?
Over the course of the last four days I have had (actually quite accurately) four people whom which I had no clue even knew this blog existed - randomly express their interest for it in person. (Well, not exactly interest, more exactly their discovery of it, but you know what I mean). It always kind of freaks me out, really, honestly - I know that what I'm writing is online and that it's out there, but I rarely do take into consideration that it's actually read by someone. Or anyone except from the ones I already know reads it. It is also quite amazing because I haven't actually written anything here, have I? Not really. There isn't actually anything here, these are just words put together to make sentences - of nothing!
And when people confront me and say they have read my "stuff" (I like that word, it is fitting) it inspires me so much. It also makes me feel guilty for wasting their time by not really putting anything of actual interest into my posts - so I'm sorry for that. And if you're unhappy with the content I suggest you assign me to write about a specific topic, no problem! I am happy to fulfill your wishes. But until then I can tell you that I like the shape of eggs, it is a nice, soft kind of shape - which unlike a perfect circle - has mobility issues. Interesting.
(The illustration I did in Paint.net).
Hello today
How are you?I feel uninspired.
Waves of unintelligent, monotone emotions are flushing over me each day. I am unable to find meaning in anything that I do. I go to school, I do what I have to do, I eat, I read books, I listen to music and I sleep. And while no day is the same I feel like everything is slipping. Gently, almost unnoticably slipping - but now that I'm aware of it, I can't stop thinking about it. Everything is slipping into a dull, unsatisfying pattern. My days have no point, there's nothing that I am actually looking forward to. None of the things I do feel rewarding or even interesting. I can't seem to locate any passion in my actions at all. I might smile, or laugh - and I might mean it. But the reasons I get up every day are things I do not feel like doing at all. Don't get me wrong - it is not as if this emotion has suddenly appeared - I have felt like this a million times before, even many years ago.
So why does everything have to feel so pointless?
It is so immensely ungrateful, and I realize - uninteresting for me to be raveling about this - especially online. And I can't blame the people that surround me, that I love - and so forth for the fact that I am feeling down. Everybody seem to appreciate my company, it's not like I'm being alienated or neglected. This is just my confused, spoiled brain that is probably transferring a misconcept of the meaning of life to my subconcious right now. I know! But still, even knowing that, even being painfully aware of the fact that I am living a better life than most - I can't help feeling that my existence is fuelled by routines. Nothing feels rewarding at all. I go around and I live my life, but that's not what it feels like. It feels like I am wandering around without anywhere to go and if I let myself -I start crying for no reason. I'm fighting tears almost every hour I am awake. Why?
I don't understand.
Paranoia! Panic!
I am intruigingly composed considering it's Friday the 13th today. While as I might normally come off as a calm, down to earth - peaceful person, I can in truth become superstitious at times. Even I can! I know, even I!
Cats are adorable, but I don't understand their body language any more than I can read klingon (sadly, I don't know how to). So when someone tell me that a dark, untameable animal with a vicious mind means bad luck when crossing the road from the left on a Thursday evening in Chester - I might believe it. You know. Why not? But if I get another one of those annoying retorts that the eight-legged monsters bring luck-- I'll snap like an electrified clam.
Actually I did break a mirror once. Sometime way back in my childhood, I can't quite recall any details. But I remember blaming that mirror whenever something bad happened later. But that must be a lot more than seven years ago- so now I blame the Chinese. They didn't do it, they didn't cause it to happen. But it's their fault. You see? Blaming someone for an unfortunate incident will make you feel better. It might momentarily relieve you of negative represalia from people you might have offended, but for the reference-- probably wont keep you out of jail.
You know, right - CSI got eyes everywhere.
Today, in the western world, bad luck means something completely different from what it meant back in the day. I suppose the word "luck" is abused to some extent. While as your wife dying in labour, crops failing, well drying up, kids getting the plague and you getting stabbed by a troubadour could be "bad luck" during the middle ages. Missing the bus, spilling coffee or maybe even just tripping over deserves the title of misfortune these days. I know this is an exaggeration, but -- you know- we pretty much abuse every word we use! Especially the word "tired".
But that's not what this post is about, this post is about panic! So, my advice to you is simply to forget what day it is today and pretend like everything going terribly wrong is just a coincidence. Works for me!
Don't Freak Out™.
I am at work, I might collapse from boredom. 
Cats are adorable, but I don't understand their body language any more than I can read klingon (sadly, I don't know how to). So when someone tell me that a dark, untameable animal with a vicious mind means bad luck when crossing the road from the left on a Thursday evening in Chester - I might believe it. You know. Why not? But if I get another one of those annoying retorts that the eight-legged monsters bring luck-- I'll snap like an electrified clam.
Actually I did break a mirror once. Sometime way back in my childhood, I can't quite recall any details. But I remember blaming that mirror whenever something bad happened later. But that must be a lot more than seven years ago- so now I blame the Chinese. They didn't do it, they didn't cause it to happen. But it's their fault. You see? Blaming someone for an unfortunate incident will make you feel better. It might momentarily relieve you of negative represalia from people you might have offended, but for the reference-- probably wont keep you out of jail.
You know, right - CSI got eyes everywhere.
Today, in the western world, bad luck means something completely different from what it meant back in the day. I suppose the word "luck" is abused to some extent. While as your wife dying in labour, crops failing, well drying up, kids getting the plague and you getting stabbed by a troubadour could be "bad luck" during the middle ages. Missing the bus, spilling coffee or maybe even just tripping over deserves the title of misfortune these days. I know this is an exaggeration, but -- you know- we pretty much abuse every word we use! Especially the word "tired".
But that's not what this post is about, this post is about panic! So, my advice to you is simply to forget what day it is today and pretend like everything going terribly wrong is just a coincidence. Works for me!
Don't Freak Out™.
I am at work, I might collapse from boredom.
Teaaa
Oh Mickey you're so fine. You're so fine you blow my mind - hey Mickey!
*clap clap*
I'm sorry, yeah I know. I owe you one.
Curiosity
Oh please, I know I am always told that I defend my own laziness when criticizing something. But I was just standing around, looking at people passing me when I realized why I in real life find skinny women to be uninteresting. Let me allow myself to semi base this on the song "Me and My Imagination" by Sophie Ellis Baxtor. Because even though it is not the same point she is confronting - I am going to write about something down the same alley at least.
Skinny, thin women - longlegged, wide-eyed - with high, sharp cheekbones; they look great. They look great in photographs, in expensive dresses, they look great in a film or in a music video - light and fragile like starved birds. I have always found beauty in the human skeleton, I have, really - it is fascinating and wondeful like a cathedral, a praise to God in its architechtural genius.
But in reality. In reality there is nothing unsolved or mysterious in skin and bones, nothing to be curious about. There are few curves to explore but the dents in between the ribs, few areas that would feel soft or comfortable to the touch. Obviously there is no use in having a wonderful build, when you have no weight to compliment it. This has become an obsession, especially in showbusiness - our ideal for beauty is inconveivable to most, and has grown forth by photo manipulation and CGI. What can I say? I am not saying that you have to be a berg of intergalactic scale, or even close, to be attractive or alluring. But focus is sliding from "Being able to give birth to healthy children" and "Being able to survive the winter and lift heavy loads" to "weighing as little as possible".
In the UK, nearly 2 in every 100 secondary school girls suffer from anorexia nervosa,
bulimia nervosa or binge eating disorder.
Weight loss and getting healthier are often misconcepted for being the same thing. Becoming healthier doesn't necessarily mean that losing weight will get you there. Having a healthy varied diet, living a good life, moving your body and being in general at peace with your own body - does not concede with our beauty ideals.
An estimated 10 per cent of female college students suffer from a clinical or sub-clinical (borderline) eating disorder, of which over half suffer from bulimia nervosa.
Needless to explain, this does not account when being overweight, but obviously there is a difference in being fat and feeling fat. What defines being fat? Every body is different, no body grows or develops the same way - therefore, not every human body can be 175 cm and still weigh 45 kiloes. And whatever happened to having fun? When the ideal of being thin completely dominates our ability to enjoy ourselves - then what is the point in living? "She looked great in everything she wore, but she never let go. She was a killjoy."
An estimated 1 in 3 of all dieters develop compulsive dieting attitudes and behaviors. Of these, one quarter will develop full or partial eating disorders.
Don't change who you are and what you are for the sake of fitting into something that society is telling you to fit into. Because I love you, and I will always appreciate you no matter what you look like. I'm not telling you to ignore the common concept of beauty, I am telling you to sacrifice it for the sake of your health, your human body.
I'm only saying you should "... Leave something/For me and my imagination..."
By the way, this is my post #800!
Skinny, thin women - longlegged, wide-eyed - with high, sharp cheekbones; they look great. They look great in photographs, in expensive dresses, they look great in a film or in a music video - light and fragile like starved birds. I have always found beauty in the human skeleton, I have, really - it is fascinating and wondeful like a cathedral, a praise to God in its architechtural genius.
But in reality. In reality there is nothing unsolved or mysterious in skin and bones, nothing to be curious about. There are few curves to explore but the dents in between the ribs, few areas that would feel soft or comfortable to the touch. Obviously there is no use in having a wonderful build, when you have no weight to compliment it. This has become an obsession, especially in showbusiness - our ideal for beauty is inconveivable to most, and has grown forth by photo manipulation and CGI. What can I say? I am not saying that you have to be a berg of intergalactic scale, or even close, to be attractive or alluring. But focus is sliding from "Being able to give birth to healthy children" and "Being able to survive the winter and lift heavy loads" to "weighing as little as possible".
In the UK, nearly 2 in every 100 secondary school girls suffer from anorexia nervosa,
bulimia nervosa or binge eating disorder.
Weight loss and getting healthier are often misconcepted for being the same thing. Becoming healthier doesn't necessarily mean that losing weight will get you there. Having a healthy varied diet, living a good life, moving your body and being in general at peace with your own body - does not concede with our beauty ideals.
An estimated 10 per cent of female college students suffer from a clinical or sub-clinical (borderline) eating disorder, of which over half suffer from bulimia nervosa.
Needless to explain, this does not account when being overweight, but obviously there is a difference in being fat and feeling fat. What defines being fat? Every body is different, no body grows or develops the same way - therefore, not every human body can be 175 cm and still weigh 45 kiloes. And whatever happened to having fun? When the ideal of being thin completely dominates our ability to enjoy ourselves - then what is the point in living? "She looked great in everything she wore, but she never let go. She was a killjoy."
An estimated 1 in 3 of all dieters develop compulsive dieting attitudes and behaviors. Of these, one quarter will develop full or partial eating disorders.
Don't change who you are and what you are for the sake of fitting into something that society is telling you to fit into. Because I love you, and I will always appreciate you no matter what you look like. I'm not telling you to ignore the common concept of beauty, I am telling you to sacrifice it for the sake of your health, your human body.
I'm only saying you should "... Leave something/For me and my imagination..."
By the way, this is my post #800!
Time fly! Smile!
It's a nice morning in many ways, it is quite enticing and light outside, even though it is still early, and still undoubtfully winter. We are all eagerly anticipating spring - with such a naive spirit I suppose, it might seem we are not fully believing it will ever come. Norwegians do this a lot I think, we all like to think about better times ahead - and we helplessly forget the good time we should be trying to have right now.When I move out I want to have my own place, just a roof over my head that I can shape into whatever I want. A place where I am free to break all rules of regular housekeeping, not by the means of neglecting housework or keeping it untidy. That I have to wear a cauldron over my head because the items in my fridge are celebrating the anniversary of their expiry date in a loud fashion. --I mean break the real basic rules, like not having identical plates or cups, have an own cupboard just for glitter, christmas lights all year round - store the sugar in a jewellery box. If more people found general happiness in such things as these, maybe they wouldn't be bombing themselves and each other to bits all the time. But then a lot of the reason for conflict is that so many people are unable to mess around with basic rules - because they have nothing to mess around with. No home or no family.
It annoys me how much I live for the sake of tomorrow. Always preparing or expecting something that is to come - oblivious to what that is here and now. Such ungratefulness to complain about what we have to save up for - or what hardship lies ahead, when we at least can reasonably expect to live until that day comes. Time flies! Remember to put a smile on somebody's face today! Because ultimately - you live a good life when you catch yourself smiling often, and find that others smile in return.
Spam and hair
Do any of you get those spam-letters from Danish-sex-short stories.dk? I'm just asking, for no particular reason. Or, because I get them on my hotmail sometimes. I think the correct address is danskesexnoveller.dk, or something, you can't really be sure with those danes. (To make it more confusing, the word for short story is "novelle" in Norwegian and in Danish).It's hard to describe exactly how much fun it is to read the descriptions on those e-mails, because you've had to have heard Danish to understand what massive comedy potential it has. Everything sounds funny in Danish, I'm sure you could tell me I've got terminal herpes in Danish and I'd still laugh my ass off. I think erotic short stories has a lot of comedy potential in themselves actually, and then imagine them in Danish. Aaah, just the thought makes me laugh.
If I find one in my inbox again, I'll be sure to let you know. and maybe I'll dare to read it just to make my day. In other news - the Russian hairdresser that I pass on my way to school is always styling a wig whenever there's no customers there. And when I passed him the other morning - he had two customers, looked like mother and daughter. But the interesting thing here was that they all had the same haircut. The hairdresser, the mother, the daughter and the wig. They looked a bit like medevial troubadours. I wonder if they will go touring.
(I drew that sheep in paint, by the way. But it's all true, they cover it up, but it's the truth)
Puffed Rice
Puffed rice is actually quite nice I think, it's cheap and chewy and it can be used for all sorts of things. Like pillow-stuffing, imitation maggots, navel fluff substitute, to dam up when you're having a nosebleed, and when you are in the need of cellulites and you can't wait for it and you can just stick some puffed rice under your skin right away. Puffed rice also sounds to straightforward to be real, it sounds like a codename for a drug. It really does.
Puffed rice is though very convenient when you wake up and you really want 3000 of something. Don't get me wrong here, I really, truly like puffed rice, I really do. The thing with puffed rice is though that it tastes next to nothing, but if it does taste something, it tastes I imagine what a small rodent farts in your mouth after having an alternative health enema tastes like. Especially those chocolates with puffed rice in them, though I suppose if that floats your boat I can only suggest you get another bag of those, or see someone about it. Which is fine by me, honestly.
Also another thing is that puffed rice is just steamed rice grains that have been under a lot of pressure, someone could say that it's sort of like lumps of coal becoming diamonds. Well, it sort of isnt. It sort of just becomes slightly bigger grains of rice that sort of weighs almost nothing and that sort of doesn't taste anything and sort of lacks a purpose. It is like dropping your dunking biscuit in your hot beverage and forget about it! Because by the time you come back to get it, right - it's twice the size but it's disgusting, it is also terribly hard to get rid of. It is not as if somebody comes over with an empty cup, knocks and goes "Sorry, I ehm-- could I borrow a cup of mushy biscuit? No? You don't have any either, eh? Hmm. Well could I have some puffed rice?" That never happens, they never really ask for that. They ask tricky questions like "Where were you last wednesday? Do you know this man? Is this your Calamari?"
And what am I supposed to say to that? "Hey dude, chill man, come in and have some puffed rice!" I can't say that-- seriously!
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