At the dentist

She's wearing a hijab I notice, and it's one of the very first things I notice too. I don't know why that matters, all I know is that I wont get any hair in my mouth and that she's covering her hair to respect her God, a win - win.

However, even if I don't raise my brows at her, many others do. As a matter of fact, I am more interested in that the lamp which is lighting up my mouth is of a brand called "Delight" and that her nimble hands work strategically and accurately over my set of dubloons. She must've had top-grades to get here, and it provokes me that people are still so crude as to question her position. There is a lot of racism in Norway.

Just by crossing the border to Sweden you will find twice as many coloured (if I am allowed to use that word) - and that is one of the other problems. Well, not the Swedes (not all the time) but the fact that words and expressions that has to do with races are all taboo. Segregation in any form - no matter how innocent - is being moulded into an impression of always being fuelled by hate.

By declearing words and situations as ways of racism - it enhances the ridiculous "differences" between people. The cartoon-character Tintin, which has been around forever with his little yappy dog is now calling back and aborting all future printing of one of the older albums. This particular story is set at an island where the "black" natives are displayed as "dumber" and "below" the more "powerful" "white". All of this caused by some silly student from Belgium that reported it as a white-dominating propaganda.

How saddenly pointless, by calling forth this as discrimination the cleavage between our wonderfully mismatching tits is rapidly increasing. I, for example can't hit Marius 'with the cloak' without it being "hate-violence" seeing he's Korean. Meaning of all stupid things, that seeing his skin is different from mine -my aggressive behaviour is fuelled by his "difference" and my "prejudice".

Sooner of later we are going to have to face the fact that refugees and other people from different cultures that want to live in Norway shouldn't be expected to leave all their traditions behind when coming here. It is part of their identity - who they are! All I demand is that they learn Norwegian, just like I would learn Arabic or Sankrit or Greek or Mandarin if it was me. Other than that we don't have the right to require much more of them, and in particular - we can't force their religion and culture off them.

You can take a girl out of the trailerpark, but you can't take the trailerpark out of a girl.

Hungover

The day after! What a powerful word, what a resolute waste of space.
One wakes up with a lust to die and spend the entire morning having quite similar urges.

The worst bit must be the dimness, that reality is shakily displayed through a film of confusion and pain. And cold. Goosebumps and a vocal chord that smells like cigarettes, not that I have been smoking, but everyone else has.

Hair has a horrible texture, like someone has had it down their throat and chewed on it.

It carries a beer scent, something much like hairspray, shoes, smokes and something bitter, it makes me want to burn it off. The heat would be refreshing too, in this cold.

I don't bother eating anything but a tomato, and I go to school still wearing last night's makeup - and all that's left of the beautiful, curled hair is a pathetic knot.

I'm sensitive to light, to sound, so fragile and tired - though most of all freezing cold. I had three hours of sleep, and now look like I fell from the moon in a bag of dead cats.

Turns out that I had written "Slave to the Rave" on the arms of anyone within reach. The other students look about as fresh as I do and have "Slave to the Rave" written up their arms, breath like deceased sea-urchins. God knows who gave me a permanent marker, a ridiculous idea. I try to look innocent, but it's kind of transparent - who else would do such a thing?

The teachers are nice, no loud noises, no double syllables, just simple, slow-paced tasks. They are too difficult, we want to sleep.

From Italy, in a mentioned state.

The life of Cleo

Today I tried to lie in the chair of our all-time favourite rottweiller, Cleo.
It made creaking sounds as I curled up on the ripped leather - the stuffing getting squeezed out of its various exits as I did. The chair is parked in the hall, so that whenever someone enter the house - she will be the first one to know. She usually greets you by spreading her legs and giving it all a good wash - just then to smile at you and wag her tail with mellow enthusiasm.

Depends who you are of course, she's a people-person, and she knows what kind of people she should wag her tail to.
It really depends on a persons rank in the food-chain, you know. For the sake of most people, she doesn't even get out of her chair, but she always wags that tail, no matter who it is.
For mum and step-dad, grandparents, long-gone siblings, aunts, uncles or any other rare species she'll explode out of the leather like a jet-furball and wriggle around the floor, erupting long whines and penetrating barks. She would look at them with crystalline eyes, smile from yoda-ear to yoda-ear and become soft as a living room cushion.

Of course, lying in her chair, and feeling much like a pineapple trying to fit into a paper envelope - I realize why she is so selective about her attention. Someone has opened the front door and is letting a draft in, to be honest I'd much rather lie here (most uncomfortably tangled up with my own body parts) and listen to the vast, odd and mysterious sounds of my own digestive system.

Much like meditation, neck-pains, the other strange burp being cramped out of me after the other, and then a strange contemplative stare creates a film over my eyes, a mild apathetic warmth spreads and suddenly a peculiar urge to scratch behind my ears with my toenails appear.

Imagine if it all fell down!

From www.DesignSponge.Blogspot.com

I was peacefully wiping dust and washing the large glass shelf at work today. Behind it is a grand mirror and there's spotlights all over it so all the wineglasses, carafes, vases, bowls and colourful glass plates sparkle immensely. It is quite a sight.
Well I was standing on a ladder, wiping this repulsive ranbow-spew-coloured glass plate, mainly while thinking of other things when a little girl and her mother walked past the store. They were walking hand in hand, her mother wanted to speed up, but the girl was walking slowly, pacing steadily past the store - taking it all in with her amazed gaze.
Before passing it entirely she stopped and looked up at her mother real serious and said; "Tenk hvis alt dette falt ned og knuste på en gang! Da ville det vært veldig farlig å gå der". Her mother just nodded, eager to get moving, and then they disappeared, the girl still sucking in everything she could from the shelf before disappearing.

I just thought it was funny how caught up she was in the consequence of the disaster.
"Think if all of this fell down and smashed at once! Then it would've been very dangerous to walk there".

Fascinating!

Tadaa! Suit- man

At the mall where I work there is this giant foodstore, and everytime I'm there, this very happy guy in a suit is mopping the floor. He smiles so broadly I am afraid this one time he will snap in two, and his eyes have become tiny slits from all the smiling - it is a wonder he can see at all!

He has what most people lack these days, at least in Norway, he is proud of his work! He does what he do with dignity! And everyone be damned to get up from their complaining arses and respect that. He probably knows that his job (mopping the floor in a big store) is not atop the foodchain - but it doesn't appear to have any effect on him.

-and in a suit! What a fantastic appearance! We all have lots to learn from him, especially how to smile like that.

Firefly, Sharpen Up

Grapefruit, Passionfruit & Yerba Maté

Attention drifting? Little grey cells all out to lunch?
Focus your mind with our all-natural Sharpen Up
formula. Tangy grapefruit and passionfruit,
buzzing with herbal extracts. Hello brain.

Contains Siberian Ginseng, Clever bits.


That's what I had to drink yesterday. If anyone know what Yerba Maté is, please tell me, I have strange blue spots on my feet, and frothy liquid is starting to pour from them.