Under construction

July 22, 2011

2011-07-22T22:50:00.001+02:00

It's a sick, sick world.

Who am I?

2011-05-14T15:21:00.002+02:00

Today, I applied to the candidata psychologiae program at my university.

It was a little bit strange, because I have such mixed feelings about whether or not I'll be accepted. To be completely honest, I don't know if I want to be in that program, or if it's just hanging on to something I would do better to let go of.

It's been six years since I was first applying for the bachelor program in general psychology. Looking back, it seems like a very arbitrary choice for me to have made. I just woke up one day, and because it was time to decide what to do with the rest of my life, I did. Don't get me wrong, I think psychology is great, and it's not that I don't have an interest in the field, but I can't help but wonder if my choice was simply a fluke.

When I was a child, I wanted to be an artist. I didn't draw every day, or even every week. I did like drawing, but as it is with most children, it was just a random image of an intangible future. I don't know many people who have actually become what they said they wanted to become when they were six.

Then, in my teens, I decided I wanted to be an architect. I don't really know why. Perhaps it was a modification of the previous dream of becoming an artist, but for years, I told everyone who asked what I was going to be when I grew up that I'd be an architect. I had my heart set on this profession without ever really knowing what it would mean.

When I got to upper secondary school, I chose to do advanced math and physics, the subjects that would allow me to get into the school and the program I wanted to get into. I did poorly in both. After a disastrous first year with a sadistic teacher, I lost all motivation to even try. I wouldn't get it anyway. It was a vicious circle; the more I failed, the less work I put into it, and the less work I put in, the more I failed.

Then came the time to apply for university. I didn't even bother applying for the program I had been dreaming of getting into for years. Instead, I put a bachelor degree in psychology at the top of my list. I got in, and the dream of becoming an architect had been replaced by a dream of becoming a psychologist. Except I don't know if it can rightly be called a dream when the main component is chance. A BS in psychology just happened to be at the top of a very long and random list when my university applications were due.

Don't get me wrong, I found the material fascinating, but two things about the transition from upper secondary school had me struggling again, like I did in math and physics. First and foremost, the lack of structure had me flailing like a fish out of water. There was just too much freedom; no mandatory attendance, no mandatory homework, no mandatory papers, no nothing. Just show up for the exams at the end of the semester and spew forth what you've absorbed. Of course, that ended up being exactly what I did. I showed up for the exams and I wrote 10-15 pages of bullshit, wherein lies my second problem: I was smart enough to pull it off. It seemed like no matter how little effort I put in, I'd always end up with okay results. Not good, mind, but decent.

Average.

That was never good enough for me before, but somewhere along the line, it started being fine. I could never motivate myself to open a book when I didn't have to. Maybe I was scared to find out that I actually was average, that it wasn't the fact that I didn't study, but the fact that psychology was just too difficult for me. To this day, I'm still not sure which it is.

Regardless of results, however, over the past six years I started very much defining myself by my area of study. For better or worse, I was a psychology student. That's what I've been for six years, and I think that's at least part of the reason why I've applied to the CP program. I don't know how to be anything else. I can't let the last six years have been for nothing.

Can I?

In addition to the CP program, I've applied for bachelor programs in English and Comparative Literature. While I have no doubts I'll be accepted into one of these, the thought of being an English student or a lit student seems all wrong. At the end of those, I'll most likely end up a teacher, which has been my dreaded back-up solution for years.

More than anything else, I feel that as I'm growing older, I'm being pushed into a conical box. The further along the path I go, the less room I have to move. My face is pressed up against the wall, and I'm looking out on all the possibilities that aren't really possibilities anymore. Not for me. They might have been options at one point, but for whatever reason, I decided on other options, and now it's too late.

I can't climb out of my box.

Two years today.

2011-04-07T13:08:00.000+02:00

She's been gone longer than she was here. How is that fair?

The world is an ugly place.

2011-01-24T01:02:00.008+01:00

Since my father gave me his old D-SLR camera last summer, I've taken thousands of pictures. I can spend hours outside, just walking around and looking for beauty. I've found it too, every single time that I've gone outside, and I'd like to think I've managed to capture some of it as well. I've photographed breathtaking sunsets, droplets on red flowers, and reflections on water. I've taken some pictures that I love, some that I hate, but never one that I regretted taking.

Until today.

The picture above was taken at 3:18 this afternoon. If you look closely, there are two people standing underneath it. They're kinda hard to spot, and they're clearly not the focus of the picture. I didn't notice them at all. In fact, in the picture I took just a few seconds prior to this one, they're nowhere to be seen. I did, however, both see and hear the woman who rushed over to me and started yelling at me about taking her picture. She was quite obviously a druggie. I don't know if I unwittingly photographed a drug deal, or if she just objected to having her picture taken, but either way, she was not pleased. I honestly thought she might punch me in the face or smash my camera. I was in tears. Luckily, her friend told her to stop scaring me, and she eventually got out of my face, without breaking it or my camera.

I'm thankful for that, I guess. But I'm not thankful for this ugly piece of the world that I was shown today.

Happy 2011!

2011-01-01T12:55:00.001+01:00

I hope you all had a merry Christmas, and that you all have a happy new year ahead!

Operation Kill All Fruit Flies is successful!

2010-12-03T22:49:00.004+01:00

I am very pleased to announce that I have become a very accomplished fruit fly murderess. I have managed to almost totally wipe out the entire population that had taken up residence in my apartment. There are still a few buzzing around, but I hope to have them eliminated by the time I go home on Tuesday. If not... well, then I hope they freeze to death while I am home for Christmas.

Aaaaaaand again.

2010-12-01T07:57:00.002+01:00

My exam for literary science starts in exactly one hour and three minutes. I have not slept, except to doze off for a few moments, only to be rudely awoken by a stray thought about Crime and Punishment, or Joseph Andrews, or dadaism, or Hegel, or any of the things that I was supposed to have learned about this semester.

I am screwed. Here's to hoping that I can at least get something down on paper. And that they will not ask about Joseph Andrews.

Fuck my life. Seriously.

2010-11-28T19:09:00.003+01:00

A while back, I bought a pineapple for the purpose of making smoothies. Fast forward a few weeks, and I just now remembered this. Guess who's got a ton of fruit flies in her kitchen?

Yeah, that's right. I do.

I'm trying to catch them by putting a bit of orange juice mixed with dish soap in a jar and leaving it where the plastic bag containing the pineapple used to be. I've also turned off the heat and opened the window, hoping that the little pests will freeze to death. I really hope it works, and FAST!

I feel old.

2010-11-27T14:28:00.002+01:00

In the spirit of exam procrastination, I was looking around for some tv show to watch. I saw 90210, and I decided what the hell. I liked the real 90210, so why not give the new one a go? I wasn't under any impression that it would be good, but then again... the real one wasn't that good either.

It was better than this though.

I was only four years old in 1990, so obviously, I didn't watch it from the very beginning, but I remember coming home from school to watch this every day. Norway is generally a liiiiiittle bit behind on the times when it comes to daytime television. I bet I could still find Full House being aired somewhere, if I just looked for it. Beverly Hills was just one of those shows that they used to run over and over and over again.

I did, of course, have a big crush on Brandon and Dylan. Kelly was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen and I wished for long blonde hair and a brilliant smile like hers. Brenda was cool, and she and Brandon set themselves apart from that glitz and glamor that the other kids were wrapped up in.

I expected the new characters to be a little bit like them, but I was very much mistaken. I was a little surprised that "Brandon" was black, and he was adopted rather than Brenda's twin. He's also not the sweet guy that you just instantly love. I think "Silver" is supposed to be the reincarnation of David Silver, but I can't really tell, because she's a girl, not a little dork, and she has anger issues because of something Naomi did to her a long time ago. Speaking of Naomi, I can't figure out if she's like Kelly or Donna. She's certainly set up to be Kelly, with the whole 'most beautiful and popular girl in school' thing going on for her, but she seems to have a sprinkle of Donna in her as well. And then there's Ethan. I think he's supposed to Dylan, since he's a surfer, but that's the only reference I can see. That, and he's with the Kelly character, but they're already hinting at a connection with "Brenda".

I know that I probably shouldn't read so much into the characterizations. It's a spin-off show. They don't have to stay true to the characters from the old show. I was just expecting it, that's all.

That's not what really bothers me about the show though. What bugs me is the drama. I've only seen forty five minutes, and I've already seen adoption angst, cheating, a drug deal, purse snatching, a nasty video posted online, a fight, lying, more cheating, ex-boyfriend/girlfriend drama, unwanted teen pregnancy and subsequent adoption, and probably a whole lot more that I can't think of off the top of my head. Someone should seriously tell the writers that they don't have to fit everything into the first episode. They should save some for the rest of the season.

Ugh.

2010-11-26T07:09:00.004+01:00

Someone really ought to teach me how to sleep the night before an exam. It's 7:09 AM, and I don't think I've done more than doze off a few times. Sleeeeeeepy!

I suppose I can always hope for state congruent memories to kick in though, at least for grammar. Did you know that if you learned something in a certain state, you're more likely to remember it again if you find yourself in the same state? I.e. if you learned something while you were under the influence of for example amphetamines, you'll have better recall for the material you learned if you do amphetamines again. I'm not entirely sure that it works for sleeping, since you know... lack of sleep generally reduces your ability to do most things, but... Here's to hopin'!

Also, did you know that 'ought to' is a modal auxiliary? This means that it has meaning (or modality!) on its own, and it use is colored by this meaning. 'Ought to' is similar to 'should' and signals strong probability or obligation, though it is more objective than what 'should is'.

Look here, BBC!

2010-11-24T21:41:00.003+01:00

I came across this in a friend's blog today. Apparently, the BBC thinks that the average person will have read only 6 out of their Top 100 list. So let's see how my reading habits compare, shall we?

1 Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
I have indeed. Both in English and in Norwegian.

2 The Lord of the Rings - JRR Tolkien
I tried. Didn't work. It's a bit too slow paced for me.

3 Jane Eyre - Charlotte Bronte
Yep.

4 Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
So many times, it's not even funny. I think I've read the first book 5-6 times. I've also read book 1-5 in Norwegian, before deciding that I couldn't be bothered to get copies in both languages.

5 To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
Yes.

6 The Bible
The whole thing? No. Parts of it, yes. The Illustrated Children's Bible that was given to my sister for her baptism? Probably close to a hundred times. What can I say, I wasn't the cynical agnostic with atheist leanings that I am today back then. Though I suppose I was a sucker for the stories rather than the religion.

7 Wuthering Heights - Emily Bronte
Yep. Twice.

8 Nineteen Eighty Four - George Orwell
It's sitting on my bookshelf, but I haven't had the time to read it yet.

9 His Dark Materials - Philip Pullman
No.

10 Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
Yep. I found it quite entertaining.

11 Little Women - Louisa M Alcott
Mhm.

12 Tess of the D’Urbervilles - Thomas Hardy
No.

13 Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
No.

14 Complete Works of Shakespeare
I do have a copy, but I haven't read all of it.

15 Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
No.

16 The Hobbit
I tried, once upon a long time ago. Does this seem to be a pattern with me and Tolkien? I can't remember if I finished it though. I might have. But if I did, it wasn't particularly memorable.

17 Birdsong - Sebastian Faulk
No

18 Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
No, but I want too!

19 The Time Traveller’s Wife - Audrey Niffenegger
Yes. I was not particularly impressed, but it was decent.

20 Middlemarch - George Eliot
No

21 Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
Yep. Multiple times, both in Norwegian and English. Actually, I've only read it once in Norwegian, and it wasn't even 'proper' Norwegian, 'cause it was a copy my grandmother gave to me that had belonged to my great grandparents. It was practically Danish. Anywho. Wonderful book. I love it.

22 The Great Gatsby - F Scott Fitzgerald
Mhm. I read it on the plane to Las Vegas last year. Quite enjoyable.

23 Bleak House - Charles Dickens
No.

24 War and Peace - Leo Tolstoy
No.

25 The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
Almost ashamed to say it, but no.

26 Brideshead Revisited - Evelyn Waugh
Nope.

27 Crime and Punishment - Fyodor Dostoyevsky
Yep. It's quite entertaining, though I had my work cut out for me trying to keep everyone apart. They all have a gazillion pet names.

28 Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
No.

29 Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
Own it! Bought it a few weeks ago, but haven't read it.

30 The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
No

31 Anna Karenina - Leo Tolstoy
Tried. Found it incredibly boring, but I was only 16 at the time, so I think I will try again at some point.

32 David Copperfield - Charles Dickens
Yep. In Norwegian only, and it was years ago.

33 Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
Yep. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe is my favorite!

34 Emma - Jane Austen
Own it. Haven't read it.

35 Persuasion - Jane Austen
Own it. Haven't read this either. It's because I bought a Jane Austen collection, at a point in time when I really didn't have time for reading. I've been meaning to set up a list of books I own but haven't read at some point, so that I can finally get through them all.

36 The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis
Hey, didn't we already cover this? I have read it!

37 The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
Yep. It's very powerful!

38 Captain Corelli’s Mandolin - Louis De Bernieres
No

39 Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
Mhm!

40 Winnie the Pooh - AA Milne
I know we had a copy of it, but if I've read it, I've forgotten.

41 Animal Farm - George Orwell
Twice. Once for school and once because I usually enjoy books I've been forced to read a lot better when I reread them without being forced. I did quite enjoy this the first time around too though.

42 The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
Yep. And 2-3 of his other novels. I was initially impressed with his work, but he's a one trick pony, in my opinion.

43 One Hundred Years of Solitude - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
No

44 A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
No

45 The Woman in White - Wilkie Collins
No

46 Anne of Green Gables - LM Montgomery
Isn't this a series? I know I was given a book years and years ago, called Anne & Marilla in Norwegian. I think it's part of this series.

47 Far From The Madding Crowd - Thomas Hardy
Own it. Haven't read.

48 The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood
No
49 Lord of the Flies - William Golding
Yes. For school. Must try to read it again at some point, 'cause this was one of the ones I resented being made to read.

50 Atonement - Ian McEwan
Yep!

51 Life of Pi - Yann Martel
No.

52 Dune - Frank Herbert
No.

53 Cold Comfort Farm - Stella Gibbons
No.

54 Sense and Sensibility - Jane Austen
This was the first book I read in English, actually. I think I was 13 at the time. I've read it a few times since. It's lovely.

55 A Suitable Boy - Vikram Seth
No.

56 The Shadow of the Wind - Carlos Ruiz Zafon
I was given this book for Christmas a few years back, but I haven't actually gotten around to reading it.

57 A Tale Of Two Cities - Charles Dickens
Own it, but haven't read it.

58 Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
No.

59 The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time - Mark Haddon
No. But it's sitting on my bookshelf, ready for consumption.

60 Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
No.

61 Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
No. Want to though.

62 Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
Yep. One of my favorite passages of all time is at the beginning of this book.

63 The Secret History - Donna Tartt
No.

64 The Lovely Bones - Alice Sebold
No.

65 Count of Monte Cristo - Alexandre Dumas
My father has it somewhere, but I haven't read it.

66 On The Road - Jack Kerouac
No.

67 Jude the Obscure - Thomas Hardy
Started, but I never finished it.

68 Bridget Jones’s Diary - Helen Fielding
I have indeed. Many times.

69 Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
No.

70 Moby Dick - Herman Melville
No, but I want to! We read Bartleby the Scrivener for school one time, and I quite enjoyed that!

71 Oliver Twist - Charles Dickens
I started this a couple of weeks ago actually, because I came across a very cheap copy and bought it. But alas, exams are screwing with me.

72 Dracula - Bram Stoker
Yep! I read it while we were in Vegas last year.

73 The Secret Garden - Frances Hodgson Burnett
No.

74 Notes From A Small Island - Bill Bryson
No.

75 Ulysses - James Joyce
No, but this is one of the books that I have vowed to read, just so that I can say that I have.

76 The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
No.

77 Swallows and Amazons - Arthur Ransome
No.

78 Germinal - Emile Zola
No.

79 Vanity Fair - William Makepeace Thackeray
I want to.

80 Possession - AS Byatt
No.

81 A Christmas Carol - Charles Dickens
No.

82 Cloud Atlas - David Mitchell
No.

83 The Color Purple - Alice Walker
I've seen it at the bookstore and considered buying it, but I haven't yet.

84 The Remains of the Day - Kazuo Ishiguro
No.

85 Madame Bovary - Gustave Flaubert
Ahem. Will you believe me if I say yes? Because I'm supposed to have read this for school, but... I haven't.

86 A Fine Balance - Rohinton Mistry
No.

87 Charlotte’s Web - EB White
No.

88 The Five People You Meet In Heaven - Mitch Albom
No.

89 Adventures of Sherlock Holmes - Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
All of them? No. But I've read a fair few. I have the complete collection.

90 The Faraway Tree Collection - Enid Blyton
Nope.
91 Heart of Darkness - Joseph Conrad
No. My best friend wrote her BA thesis on this though, and she loves it, so I want to.

92 The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
Nope.

93 The Wasp Factory - Iain Banks
No.

94 Watership Down - Richard Adams
Nope.

95 A Confederacy of Dunces - John Kennedy Toole
Nope.

96 A Town Like Alice - Nevil Shute
Nope.

97 The Three Musketeers - Alexandre Dumas
This was one of my favorite stories when I was younger, but I haven't actually read it, just listened to a children's version on tape. I own a copy though, so I must get around to reading it.

98 Hamlet - William Shakespeare
Tried to, many years ago. I was too young for it at the time though, I think.

99 Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - Roald Dahl
One of my favorite books when I was younger. My teacher read it to us at school, and I've read it many times on my own as well. It's been a while since the last time though. I must look into getting a copy, 'cause I always borrowed it from the school library before.

100 Les Miserables - Victor Hugo
I so want to. Les Miserables is my favorite musical, so I'm very interested in reading the actual book.

Twenty seven books out of a hundred. That's not bad, I guess. That's 4-5 times the amount that the average person has supposedly read. What I really need to do though, is read all the books I own, but have never opened. It's kinda ridiculous. Especially considering the ones mentioned here are not the only ones. I have a veritable mountain of books that I've bought because I want to read them, but don't really have the time to.

A heartfelt letter

2010-11-19T12:50:00.001+01:00

Dear hormones,

Please stop toying with me.

Love Heidi

Three candles.

2010-11-11T10:36:00.004+01:00

Today, Maddie would have been three. Instead she's forever frozen at a year and a half. It's so unfair.

Boys and shooting stars

2010-11-06T04:01:00.006+01:00

I met a boy.

It was Monday afternoon. At five forty, I ventured out my apartment. My hair was still wet from the speedy shower that I had postponed for as long as possible because I didn't really want to go outside. I had to though, because I'd promised I would participate in a study on gambling.

I got the call last Friday, and I was flustered, because the person on the other end spoke English to me, and I wasn't sure whether it was because he thought that I needed it, or because he needed it. I almost responded in Norwegian, but I caught myself after a pause that was too long, and said that I was available. I didn't think much of it until the Monday when I had arranged to be at the faculty building. I'd had a long day with an early grammar lecture and a literature seminar, but there was no way out. I said I'd participate, so I couldn't not show.

I considered skipping the shower. I mean, who cares if some old, bald researcher sees my greasy hair and the t-shirt with the offensive slogan? But in the end, probably because I arranged to go out to eat with my friend after the experiment, I managed to coax myself into the shower.

On my way across the bridge, I saw a shooting star. I remember it very clearly, because I haven't seen them very often. The last time I can distinctly remember seeing one was when I was twelve years old. I was outside past my curfew with two friends, one boy and one girl. The boy, I had a crush on. The boy had a crush on the girl. We were lying on top of a wooden castle in a playground, just looking up at the stars, and there were a lot of shooting stars to see that night. Most people think that shooting stars are rare, but they're not really. I read somewhere that you can see them every ten minutes or so, usually. But I guess I just don't have time to look up at the night sky that often, so when I saw the shooting star that night, it was still special. It was big and bright, and gone almost before I realized that it had been there.

I reached the faculty building, and took the elevator to the fifth floor, because I was late. I was supposed to be there at six, and there was only a couple, maybe three minutes left. When I walked out of the elevator, there was no one there, which I thought was odd. Where were all the other participants? I thought I might have ended up in the wrong place, because stoned monkeys could probably find their way better than I could. I was studying the floor map intently when a door opened. I turned around just in time to see a dark head of hair peer into the hallway. I thought he might be looking for me, but he didn't say anything, and he was at the opposite end of where I expected to be picked up for the experiment. So I waited some more. The head of hair appeared a second time, and this time he spoke to me. He asked me if I was Heidi, if I was here for the gambling experiment. I nodded and smiled, thankful that I wasn't in the wrong place, although, admittedly, my lack of ability to navigate had caused me to be a little late.

I crossed the hall, and it was then I got a good look at him. Rather than old and bald, like I had imagined, the German accent on the phone belonged to an absolutely gorgeous young man with beautiful blue eyes and dark hair that begged to be played with. He introduced himself as Leon. I smiled and said that my name was Heidi, although we had already established this. I followed him into the room, and he explained that I needed to put on a pulse monitor. He held up a watch and a strap that he said was supposed to go around my chest. It needed to touch my skin. I asked him if there was a place I could put on this device, because the testing rooms had little windows in them, and while I didn't exactly think that he would peek, I try not to make a habit out of stripping off my shirt in places where people can easily see it. But he assured me that he wouldn't look (I might have blushed a little at this, I'm not sure), and I went into the tiny little room and took of my sweater and the tank top I was wearing underneath. My hands were actually shaking a little bit, but I managed to get the strap around my chest, and the watch around my wrist. He gave me a questionnaire to fill out, regarding my gambling habits, which are pretty much non-existent. Then he told me to relax for five minutes so that he could get a reading of my base heart rate. I sat in the little room on my own for those minutes, and suffice to say that my thoughts weren't exactly relaxing, and my heart rate was... kinda high.

When I was done, two other test subjects had arrived, and he was a little flustered, so he asked me what I'd been doing. I told him and then he directed me towards the computer in the little room, and told me to follow the instructions on the screen. I did as I was told, and it was over in no time at all. I think it's safe to say that I do not have a gambling addiction. Then I was given a final questionnaire that asked me about how I felt during the gambling portion. It also indicated that I not have a gambling problem, and, if my textbook on motivational psychology is anything to go by, that I suffer from depression. But that is a post for another day.

Then it was time to leave. I didn't want to go, but I couldn't really think of a way to stay either. I asked him if there was a way to get the results, once they had them. He explained how long it would take to get the results, and then how long it would take for them to be published in paper form. And then there was nothing more to talk about, so I put on my coat and left.

When I got home, I cursed the world for letting me meet him in this kind of setting. I had his phone number, so I decided to do a bit of good natured stalking. Don't judge. You don't know how extremely gorgeous he was, and well... I told you what he did to my heart rate, didn't I? He had texted me the same day to remind me to show up for the experiment, so it was easy find out what his full name was, and that made it easy to find him on facebook. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I know it's totally creepy that I did all this, but you know what?

The world is a cruel bitch for letting me meet him like this. I'm still hoping for some kind of miracle to throw him into my path again. I don't believe in love at first sight, but I do believe in attraction It's silly and stupid, but as far as attraction goes...

I'm head over heels.

OMG! Freaking out!

2010-11-04T14:55:00.001+01:00

I got my first work request email just now, and although I know I speak English fluently, I'm nervous! Not so much for the actual translation, but the technical aspects. Help!

I'm quite possibly the dumbest person on the planet.

2010-11-01T07:40:00.003+01:00

The night between Saturday and Sunday, I noticed something peculiar: I looked at the time and it was 2:08, even though I distinctly remembered looking at the time not too long ago, and it was 2:45. I concluded that it was daylight savings working its magic. You'd think, since I'd mentally commented on this, I'd able to remember to check my cell phone clock before going to bed to make sure it's the right time.

I didn't.

I don't like the AM version of 6:30.

It never stops.

2010-10-27T14:11:00.000+02:00

I was going through the list of new posts in my google reader this morning, and one of the blogs mentioned something that was published on Marie Claire's website a few days ago. It's written by Maura Kelly and titled Should "Fatties" Get A Room? (Even on TV?) Basically it's a belly-bashing piece about how disgusting it is to be fat. It makes me sad. And it makes me angry.

It's been more than a decade since I felt that my body was good enough. The first time I felt fat, I weighed a grand total of sixty five pounds. I was a pretty normal sized kid at that time, but I weighed five pounds more than a girl who was a year older than me. It seems like such a silly reason to feel fat now, but back then, it really made me feel like a baby whale, an image which my mother promoted when I reiterated the story to her, and she said that it wouldn't hurt to watch what I ate. She did, of course, not mean to say that there was anything wrong with my weight, but that's what I heard.

In the years that followed, I never stopped feeling fat. I felt fat all throughout secondary school and upper secondary school. And then suddenly I didn't just feel fat anymore, I was fat. For me, it was a self-fulfilling prophesy. Already at a young age, food became something that wasn't just nutrition. It was a reward and a comfort. Pretty much anything could be used as an excuse to eat. A bad day at school could be fixed by a Snickers bar. A good grade on a test should be celebrated by a bag of cheese doodles. And so on and on and on.

I'll freely admit that I struggle a lot with food. I know what I should eat and what I shouldn't. But it's almost a compulsion. I'll be halfway through a chocolate bar, and I'll think that it's not really that good, but dammit, I'll finish it anyway.

I can't help think that people are judging me when I eat in public. I'm certain that the cashier at my local grocery store thinks 'of course' when she scans in a bag of chips and a bottle of soda. If I'm eating ice cream with my friends on a hot summer day, I'm sure people think that I should have some water instead.

Maybe it seems a little ridiculous to think that way. But then again, maybe it's not. Maybe the reason why I think people are judging me is because they are.

My initial response was: Hmm, being overweight is one thing — those people are downright obese! And while I think our country's obsession with physical perfection is unhealthy, I also think it's at least equally crazy, albeit in the other direction, to be implicitly promoting obesity! Yes, anorexia is sick, but at least some slim models are simply naturally skinny. No one who is as fat as Mike and Molly can be healthy. And obesity is costing our country far more in terms of all the related health problems we are paying for, by way of our insurance, than any other health problem, even cancer.

She's got it partly right. The obsession with physical perfection is unhealthy. But pray to whatever higher powers you believe in that you're on the right extreme. I don't think anyone can deny that being sickly skinny is more acceptable than being overweight. Just turn on your TV, or open a magazine. The fatties are few and far between, and if they're there, they're usually there to be miserable because they're big. Because it's impossible to be both big and happy.

Also, if some slim women are simply naturally skinny, wouldn't that indicate that some women are also naturally heavier? When I was twelve years old, I lamented to my mother than whereas my friends could eat crap all day and not gain a gram, I simply had to look at it to gain five pounds. There are differences in our metabolic rates, and I'm not one of the lucky ones.

As for anorexia being sick... yes, it is. But morbid obesity is not? Do you really think anyone would choose to eat themselves into an early grave if there wasn't some part of their psyche that's fucking with them, just like there's a part of the anorexic's brain that tells her to starve herself to the same end?

So anyway, yes, I think I'd be grossed out if I had to watch two characters with rolls and rolls of fat kissing each other ... because I'd be grossed out if I had to watch them doing anything. To be brutally honest, even in real life, I find it aesthetically displeasing to watch a very, very fat person simply walk across a room — just like I'd find it distressing if I saw a very drunk person stumbling across a bar or a heroine addict slumping in a chair.

Let's switch out 'fat person' with 'black person' or 'homosexual person'. Does anyone have a problem with me saying that I'm grossed out by homosexuals kissing? I thought so. So why is it okay to say that you're grossed out by overweight people kissing? Why do you even care? But sure, let's send all the fat people to Siberia or the Sahara desert, where they can be affectionate with one another without grossing others out.

And with regards to alcoholics and heroine addicts, I don't feel distress when I see them stumbling or slumping resepctively. I feel sad, that their addiction has taken them to this terrible place. But it's also not very comparable to what overweight people go through every day. An alcoholic has the choice to never have a drink ever again. A heroine addict can choose to not have another hit. No one argues that it's difficult for both of them to make this choice. But an overweight person can never make the choice to stop eating. Every single day, they're going to be faced with their addiction, but for us, it's not supposed to be hard. We're just going to eat a little less. That's not hard at all.

Now, don't go getting the wrong impression: I have a few friends who could be called plump. I'm not some size-ist jerk. And I also know how tough it can be for truly heavy people to psych themselves up for the long process of slimming down. (For instance, the overweight maintenance guy at my gym has talked to me a little bit about how it seems worthless for him to even try working out, because he's been heavy for as long as he can remember.)

But ... I think obesity is something that most people have a ton of control over. It's something they can change, if only they put their minds to it.

Let me define discrimination for you: it's the act of making a distinction in favor or against a person or a thing based on the group, class or category to which that person or thing belongs to rather than on individual merit. And forgive me for pointing this out, but wasn't she saying just a paragraph ago that fat people kissing makes her uncomfortable? Does a normal sized couple also gross her out with their public displays of affection? How about an anorexic couple? If they don't, that makes her, by definition, a sizeist jerk.

And unless she has actually been a truly heavy person trying to slim down, she has no idea how tough it is. She might think that she does, but she has never fought that battle. I'm sure she's fought her own battles with anorexia and bulimia (which, by the way, shouldn't that be an indicator that she does not have a healthy view on this issue?), but it's like saying that a depressed patient fully understands what difficulties a schizophrenic faces.

Though I do think that, as a 'former' anorexic and bulimic, she should have some sort of understanding of what a less than favorable body image does to a person. She should know what it's like to look at your body and see everything that's wrong with it. And she should know that hurtful comments such as these help no one. No one but an insensitive asshat would tell an anorexic that her body is gross. She hates her body enough without outside help. But an obese person doesn't?

And if obesity is something most people have a ton of control over, why are there so many obese people? Does anyone really think that anyone chooses to put themselves in a position where they hate their own body, and gives society the 'right' to ridicule them? Because make no mistake about it: it is acceptable to discriminate against a person based on their weight. Oh, maybe we don't talk too loudly about it, but I've read accounts of people peering into shopping baskets to see what that fatso is buying, I've been called a fat cow, and I've heard over and over how lazy I am from people who have never so much as glanced into my daily life.

(I'm happy to give you some nutrition and fitness suggestions if you need them — but long story short, eat more fresh and unprocessed foods, read labels and avoid foods with any kind of processed sweetener in them whether it's cane sugar or high fructose corn syrup, increase the amount of fiber you're getting, get some kind of exercise for 30 minutes at least five times a week, and do everything you can to stand up more — even while using your computer — and walk more. I admit that there's plenty that makes slimming down tough, but YOU CAN DO IT! Trust me. It will take some time, but you'll also feel so good, physically and emotionally. A nutritionist or personal trainer will help — and if you can't afford one, visit your local YMCA for some advice.)

It sounds so easy, doesn't it? Eat less, eat better and move more. But like I've already pointed out, if it's really that simple, why aren't we all at our ideal weight? And why aren't we telling anorexics to 'just eat more'? Or bulimics to 'just stop throwing up'? Or cutters to 'just stop cutting'? Or depressed patients to 'just be happy'? If it's that easy to snap out of it? Because it's really not that easy!

Obese people know that they should eat less, eat better and move more. Us fatsos aren't dumb. We understand the concept very well, thank you very much. To give this advice in this holier-than-thou, snooty and condescending manner... it's not helping. The most difficult task can be boiled down to easy steps, but that doesn't make the task any less difficult.

What do you guys think? Fat people making out on TV — are you cool with it? Do you think I'm being an insensitive jerk?

I think fat people making out on TV - and anywhere else - is totally okay. They're people too, so why not? The fact that she thinks otherwise makes her, in my eyes, an insensitive jerk. Just read the suggestion she makes between the lines.

Fat people offends the world simply by existing. Lock them up so we don't have to look at their gross bodies.

It'll make you smile!

2010-10-26T12:13:00.001+02:00

1. Go to google.
2. Type in "who's the cutest?"
3. Press "I'm feeling lucky."

Disappointed. Again.

2010-10-17T14:38:00.002+02:00

I'm a middle child. I have a brother who is four years older than me, and a sister who is six years younger. I'm not the much anticipated first child, nor am I the last baby.

It's a difficult position to be in.

I have no doubt that my parents love me. They probably love me every bit as much as they love my siblings. It's just that sometimes, it doesn't feel like it. It's not about great big gestures of affection, or anything like that. It's about tiny little things. Things that I feel silly about noticing.

My parents are usually late in picking me up from the airport when I'm coming home from the city. I've been told many times to start walking, they'll be there soon. This has never happened to my sister.

I've lived in the city for over four years now, and my parents have never visited me here. They've driven me down here for the start of the school year, but they've never come here just to see me. My friends' parents come at least once per semester, if not more often. My parents used to visit my brother when he was away at school. He lived a lot closer, it's true, but that doesn't soothe the sting.

This year, my sister got a big birthday party with lots of cake and lovely food. For my birthday, I got to spend most of the day home alone without any presents, and my mother made food I don't like for dinner. Sure, it was my sister's eighteenth birthday, and my twenty fourth. I don't begrudge my sister her party. Eighteen is a big deal. But the contrast was just so enormous.

My mother has admitted that she would rather ask me to do things than either of my siblings, because I'm much more likely to do what she asks. I suppose that's a testament more to my siblings' unwillingness to help out than my parents lack of love for me, but you know what? It still makes me feel like the one that does all the work with none of the praise. Because praise? It's unusual in my family. You're more likely to hear 'why didn't you clean the bathroom as well?' than 'thank you for cleaning the kitchen'.

They never suggest that I come home to visit them. My friends' parents are practically begging them to come home as often as possible, while mine don't seem to care at all whether I come or not.

A few days ago, I got a text from my sister asking me whether I'd like to go home two weekends from now. Dad's paying. Well, I called him up to check if they had any flight times in mind, and it turns out that my sister is going on the first plane of the day, while I have lectures to attend, and would not be able to go at that time. Instead of suggesting I come on a later flight, he said 'Oh well. There will be other weekends.' But I know there won't be. I've lived here for four years. I know the pattern. I go home for Christmas, for Easter and for the summer. I.e. when there's a reason to, other than 'we just want to see you'.

I could go on. But I'm already depressed.

Watch.

2010-10-15T11:33:00.000+02:00

It's gonna be a good season

2010-10-10T21:21:00.004+02:00

I love Hell's Kitchen. I love Gordon Ramsay. I love it when he screams.

...

Yeah, that's what she said.

I've just started watching the eighth season, and it looks like it's going to be a wonderful one. How do I know?

Raj actually had the nerve to imitate Chef Ramsay. While he was in the room.

Sabrina said that Nona should go home because she snores. What are they, twelve?

One girl said that she hadn't worked with Chinese food before. They were making sushi.

One girl said that she was paired up with the Asian girl for the sushi challenge, so she would do well. Because Asia isn't fucking huge or anything. The girl she was talking about was actually Filipino. Potayto, potahto, right?

Vinny decided that the sides weren't getting made fast enough, so he advised the customers not to order them.

I have a lot of screaming to look forward too!

Go me!

2010-10-09T16:32:00.002+02:00

I bet you're wondering how the hell I managed to do this.

It was quite simple, I assure you. I was making myself a smoothie with my kick-ass new blender. It turned out a little thick, but I figured it was just because I'd used frozen berries. So I gave the glass a little tap. Which lead to an impromptu face mask, made up of raspberries, blueberries and orange juice. Turned out the smoothie wasn't so thick after all.

I shrieked, leaning forwards as quickly as possible, because... it's a reflex, I guess, born out of not wanting to get crap on my clothes. And then I realized just how much of the smoothie had ended up on my face. It just kept dripping and dripping, and splashing in all direction. See how it got nearly all the way up to my knee? That's impressive, innit? It also reached the wall, the fridge, the cupboard, the leg of my desk and, obviously, the floor.

It's a good thing I have a wonderful sense of humor.

(No really. I would have been pissed about having to clean up the mess, but I was far too busy laughing. I'm gonna be snickering for a long time about this... not least because I'll be reminded of it every time I look at the violets splatter spots on my white wall!)

Oh. My. God. Make it STOP!

2010-10-01T11:30:00.004+02:00

I posted a while ago about a possible pineapple allergy. Well, I figured out that it's probably not pineapple. How? Because a week after I posted that, I found myself resembling a blowfish again. It's really not pleasant.

So I thought to myself, what the hell am I consuming on Thursdays that's making me swell up like a tampon you dropped in the toilet? Then I remembered that I had bought sandwiches in the school cafeteria on both days. So I decided to lay off bready things for a while.

Sadly, I'm doing the blowfish impression again. I've got a fat upper lip, the crook of my elbow looks nasty, I've got rashes on both my hands, my eyelids are swollen, and I have quite morbid fantasies of flaying my face because it itches so damn much!

So again, I had to play the thinking game. If it's not pineapple, it's not bread, what then? It's not like I'm some kind of adventurous eater here. I'm the girl who's suspicious of sauces that are white. I don't eat butter. Potatoes gratinated in sour cream makes me gag. Salmon is just about the nastiest thing I can think of. Hell, fish just plain sucks. My friends and family all make fun of me for being the pickiest eater in the world, and you know what? I get it.

I am not an adventurous eater.

So there weren't a lot of options. I wracked my brain, trying to think of something that I had consumed on all my blowfish days. And then my baby blues fell on the mug on my table. Cafe au chocolate. Did you know you can be allergic to caffeine?

Well, you can. Guess what the symptoms are! They're quite lovely!

(If this is too long to read, feel free to skip it. The conclusion is that there's a strong possibility I have a caffeine allergy.)

1. Skin problems. Hives, eczema, rashes, acne, severe itching. Check. Check SO MUCH. When I was in school, I sometimes got called Baby Hitler (I know, it's terrible >.<) because of the bright red rash I'd get under my nose, like a mustache. The crook of my arms is rarely free of eczema. I had to see a doctor to get rid of my acne. And I'd like to cut my face off because it itches.

2. Headaches and migraines. When I was nineteen, I woke up one morning to a very severe headache. An 'oh-my-god-I-honestly-think-my-head-is-going-to-split-open' kind of headache. It never really went away. I've had a headache more or less continuously for five years. Obviously, the pain isn't constant, but I think nothing of having a throbbing head, because I'm used to it. So check.

3. Anxiety and panic attacks. Sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night, and I'm absolutely 100% certain that I'm going to die right there and then. The only thought in my head is 'It's happening, this is it, this is it.'. A few weeks ago, when they tested my hearing for the study I'm participating in, my heart was thumping so loudly that I was afraid it was going to interfere with the results of the test. Just because I had to sit in a chair with a pair of headphones on and push a button when I could hear a tone in my ear. I actually shiver when asked to speak in front of people.

4. Can't concentrate. I used to be a straight A student. I was the conscientious kid that always did my homework after school. Now, I get C's solely because I can bullshit pretty well. I used to read a lot, and I thought nothing of finishing a book every couple of days. Now, I own a ton of books that I've never read, because I still see myself as someone who likes to read, but I get a few pages in, and I can't concentrate anymore. Sometimes, I even forget how the sentence started by the time I get to the end of it.

5. Tongue, glands or throat swelling. I'm not sure about this one, but a while back, I had a doctor's appointment to get checked out for hypothyrodism. One of the symptoms of that is swollen glands. I had swollen glands. Also, my tongue sometimes feels too big for my mouth, and sometimes, I feel like I can't breathe because my throat is too tight.

6. Heart racing, palpitations. Did I mention the incident when I was having my hearing tested? Well, it's not uncommon.

7. Angry, irritable mood. I can't stop complaining, about the silliest things. An online friend saying 'chaaa' instead of 'yeah'? Cannot stand it. People who are late for lectures? Hate them with a burning passion. Lecturers who say 'uh' frequently? Would like to murder them. People wanting to get past me during break time at lectures? God, they're so annoying. I could go on and on and on and on and ON.

8. Fatigue. Sometimes.

9. Dizziness. Not really.

10. Extreme jitters. Last week, when I had some coffee during the break of my eight am lecture... if I hadn't been at a lecture, I would have been bouncing off the wall. I was literally rocking back and forth like a bona fide nut jub because I just could not sit still. After one can of iced coffee.

11. Chest pain. I've been worried about having a heart attack since I was sixteen. I've mentioned it to my doctor several times, and he's always said that it's probably nothing, since I'm fairly young, and I don't feel pain during heavy exercise.

12. Depression. Have you read this blog lately?

13. Numbness in face, hands and feet. Lately, I've been worried about diabetes (why, yes, I am a hypochondriac), because my left foot tingles, like it's sleeping. My hands sometimes feel the same way.

14. Muscle pain. Not sure. Sometimes.

15. Shortness of breath. I can never seem to build up any kind of stamina. Never. I get out of breath no matter what I do.

16. Flu/cold like symptoms. Not really.

17. Vision problems. I sometimes see subtle lights dancing in front of my eyes that move if I move my eyes.

18. Delusions/hallucinations. I... don't think so?

19. Cold sweats. Yep.

20. Eyes swollen shut. Not completely shut, but... it's not very comfortable.

So how's that for a laundry list of symptoms? I really need to go see a doctor and get tested. You know what sucks though? If I do have a caffeine allergy, I'll have to give up coke. And possibly chocolate. I'm not sure I can live with that.

List of symptoms, courtesy of Energy Fiend.

MEGAN FOX - speedpainting by Nico Di Mattia

2010-09-19T18:49:00.000+02:00

It is taking every ounce of will power that I possess not to order a graphic tablet right now.

Can you see the pattern here?

2010-09-17T09:32:00.003+02:00

07:10 - I wake up.
State of socks: Not actually wearing any, but they're dry.
State of pants: Not wearing those either, but they are also dry.
State of brain: Half asleep.
Weather: No idea.

07:20 - I get out of bed
State of socks: Still not wearing any, but as far as I know, they're dry.
State of pants: Also still not wearing pants, but I'm pretty sure they were dry at this time too.
State of brain: 73,2% awake. Approximately.
Weather: No idea.

07:40 - I get dressed after a shower
State of socks: Dry.
State of pants: Dry.
State of brain: Awake. Ish.
Weather: No idea.

07:55 - Time to leave
State of socks: Wet in places.
State of pants: Wet in places.
State of brain: Sad.
Weather: Raining.

08:05 - Walking across the bridge
State of socks: Soaked.
State of pants: Soaked.
State of brain: Deeply unhappy.
Weather: Pissing down.

08:15 - Lecture on Wuthering Heights
State of socks: Soaked.
State of pants: Soaked.
State of brain: Bored.
Weather: Pissing down.

09:00 - Break time!
State of socks: Sopping wet.
State of pants: Moist.
State of brain: Still bored.
Weather: Pissing down.

09:15 - Lecture commences
State of socks: Sopping wet.
State of pants: Moist.
State of brain: Miserable.
Weather: Pissing down.

10:00 - End of lecture
State of socks: Wet.
State of pants: Pretty much dry!
State of brain: Hmmm.
Weather: Pissing down.

10:15 - Lecture on consciousness, learning and conditioning
State of socks: Soaked.
State of pants: Soaked.
State of brain: Miserable after seeing which lecturer is speaking.
Weather: Pissing down.

11:00 - Break time!
State of socks: Sopping wet.
State of pants: Moist.
State of brain: Irritated.
Weather: I'm actually not sure, because the lecture hall doesn't have windows, but if I were to guess, my money would be on 'pissing down'.

11:15 - Lecture commences
State of socks: Still sopping wet.
State of pants: Still moist.
State of brain: Utter despair.
Weather: Still not sure, but I'd hazard a guess on 'pissing down'.

12:00 - Lecture is over
State of socks: Wet.
State of pants: Dry!
State of brain: Relieved.
Weather: Pissing down.

12:15 - Lecture on Wuthering Heights. Again.
State of socks: Soaked.
State of pants: Soaked.
State of brain: Fuzzy.
Weather: Pissing down.

1:00 - Break time!
State of socks: Sopping wet.
State of pants: Moist.
State of brain: Relieved.
Weather: Pissing down.

1:15 - Lecture commences
State of socks: Sopping wet.
State of pants: Moist.
State of brain: Very sad.
Weather: Pissing down.

2:00 - Lecture is over!
State of socks: Wet.
State of pants: Dry!
State of brain: Dead.
Weather: Pissing down.

2:17 - Bus leaves for hospital
State of socks: Soaked.
State of pants: Soaked.
State of brain: Dead.
Weather: Pissing down.

2:35 - Bus arrives at hospital
State of socks: Soaked.
State of pants: Sopping wet.
State of brain: Dead.
Weather: Pissing down.
State of being: Lost.

2:45 - Inside hospital
State of socks: Soaked.
State of pants: Soaked.
State of brain: Dead.
Weather: Not entirely sure, but I think it's pissing down.
State of being: Lost.

3:00 - 9th floor of hospital
State of socks: Sopping wet.
State of pants: Wet.
State of brain: Dead.
Weather: Pissing down.
State of being: Not lost.

3:25 - Still on the 9th floor
State of socks: Wet.
State of pants: Dry.
State of brain: Dead, but slightly worried.
Weather: Pissing down.
State of being: Lost, it turns out.

3:35 - On the 9th floor of a different hospital building
State of socks: Sopping wet.
State of pants: Sopping wet.
State of brain: Mostly dead.
Weather: Pissing down.
State of being: Late.

3:40 - Having my hearing tested
State of socks: Sopping wet.
State of pants: Sopping wet.
State of brain: Worried.
State of heart: Thumping.
Weather: Pissing down.
State of hearing: Excellent.

3:45 - Having my dexterity tested
State of socks: Sopping wet.
State of pants: Sopping wet.
State of brain: Dead.
State of dexterity: Very right-handed.
Weather: Pissing down.

3:50 - Looking for bus stop
State of socks: Soaked.
State of pants: Soaked.
State of brain: Dead.
Weather: Pissing down.
State of being: Lost.

4:00 - Find bus stop just as bus arrives.
State of socks: Soaked.
State of pants: Soaked.
State of brain: Dead, but panicking nonetheless.
Weather: Pissing down.
State of money: Missing.

4:15 - Back in the city center
State of socks: Soaked.
State of pants: Soaked.
State of brain: Dead.
Weather: Pissing down.
Primary destination: Pharmacy to get painkillers for friend.
Secondary destination: Chocolatier.

5:00 - Back home, finally.
State of socks: Soaked.
State of pants: Soaked.
State of brain: Deader than dead.
Weather: Pissing down.

5:05 - Still back home:
State of socks: DRY! Accompanied by hippo slippers.
State of pants: DRY! And of the sweatpantsy kind.
State of brain: Deader than dead. Luckily, you don't need a functioning brain to watch Green Wing. Or bug a friend into ordering pizza.
Weather: Pissing down.

Yeah, yesterday was kinda hellish. If you paid attention all the way through, that was nine hours of socks and pants in various stages of wetness. Nine hours. Also, I think I might want to marry the bus driver who let me on the bus when I couldn't find my money! Whatever your name is, I love you man, seriously!

Friends don't wake friends up

2010-09-14T10:25:00.003+02:00

I am not a morning person. I never have been, and I never will be. I was sleep deprived from age fourteen to eighteen, because I had a paper route, and despite having to get up at 5:20 AM six days a week, I rarely went to slept before midnight, and it wasn't exactly unusual for me to stay up even later. I'm not even joking. I learned to function very well on little sleep.

And then I started university. The ability was completely destroyed, because I still loved late nights, and I could sleep as long as I liked most days a week. Actually, for the past four years, I've had a schedule that is not particularly hurt by staying up way past midnight. And it's become a bit of a habit, staying up late. I think nothing of being up until four. In fact, yesterday, I was up until three, despite knowing very well that I had an eight am lecture to go to.

... I guess this part indicates that I can still rock the late nights, because I was up and about at seven forty, and my... ahem... smiling face could be seen in the second last row of the lecture hall at eight ten (the lecture starts at eight fifteen... I wasn't late!).

I know it's probably not a good approach to my daily schedule. Sooner or later, I'm going to have to acquire a sleeping pattern that works better with the world around me, and not just on the internet. My money is on later though, simply because... well, I love late nights.

Which brings me to the moral of today's story: if you ever need to contact me about something trivial that can wait a few hours and it's early in the morning (or even early-ish), wait a few hours, please! I thought all my friends knew this already.

Apparently not.

Strange?

2010-09-10T01:42:00.003+02:00

My first impulse, upon realizing that hey! I might have a pineapple allergy, was to go buy another one of the pineapple smoothies that made me want to scratch all the skin off my body in the first place.

Note to self

2010-08-20T13:31:00.001+02:00

The next time you go out to photograph the sunset near water... BRING BUG REPELLENT!

No more lies.

2010-08-14T01:03:00.003+02:00

I am tired of being lied to. I'm tired of people lying for no reason that I can see.

In some cases, I get lying, I really do. It might not be a particularly noble thing to do, but I get it. I understand little white lies to spare someone's feelings. I understand lying to save your own ass. I understand lying to save someone else's ass.

I understand lying for a reason.

What I cannot for the life of me fathom, is that people lie for the hell of it. Not to spare feelings, and not to get out of trouble. Just because they can.

I just want the truth. Or at the very least, no more lies.

Goodbye C.

2010-08-13T01:36:00.001+02:00

I guess I have to let you go now, my imaginary prince.

I'll miss you.

Shock

2010-08-12T02:16:00.002+02:00

I just got an email from someone I never thought I'd hear from again, offering explanations. Everything she said conjured up more questions.

My mind is spinning.

I don't think he meant for me to be amused...

2010-08-11T21:32:00.002+02:00

I was out walking today, and at about 8:45 pm, my phone rang. I looked at it, and saw hidden caller ID flashing across my screen. But surprise! It was not my little buddy, it was a telemarketer! Never mind the fact that it's illegal for them to use hidden caller ID in Norway.

Anyway, he started the conversation by saying that he was not trying to sell me anything. In fact, I would not have to pay a dime! He had all this stuff to give away, and he wanted me to have this book, and that book, and that book, and he would even throw in a water pitcher from Rosendahl! Doesn't that sound just so swell?

And then he got to the catch, which was, of course, that there was a small sum of money to be paid, but in exchange for all this stuff, how could I not be interested. Except, of course, I was not at all interested in shelling out money for three books that I was not remotely interested in reading and a water pitcher from Rosendahl. I said so.

It was apparently the wrong thing to say. Imagine that! He was so incredibly pissed off, and he asked me how I dared waste five minutes of his precious time like that! I thought that was a bit rich coming from a telemarketer calling me at nine pm, so I said that he was wasting mine, so why not?

Then he called me a jerk and hung up.

I'm scared.

2010-08-04T20:57:00.003+02:00

I just got off the phone with my mom. She and my father were at the hospital in Trondheim today, to get the results from a gene test that my mother took a while ago, because my mother had cancer a few years ago, and my maternal grandmother died from cancer before I was born. The initial tests indicated that my mother didn't have the mutation they were checking for, but more extensive testing has revealed that there is something that's not quite right. So... I guess I need to get tested at some point as well.

I know ya'll are jealous...

2010-08-02T13:16:00.002+02:00

just another day in July

2010-07-27T11:42:00.006+02:00

I haven't been a big birthday person since I was a little girl. Back then, it was easy to get excited about birthdays, because children can get excited about anything, and people cared about making it good. But, as I grew older, my birthdays have started getting... well, I guess ignored is a good a word as any.

I don't mean that there is absolutely no acknowledgment that it's my birthday, but usually, it might as well be any other day in July. Most of the birthdays between 12 and 20, I don't even remember, because my parents usually throw me and my sister a joint birthday party, because our birthdays are both in July, but because I'm the oldest, my sister gets all the attention, even at the party that was actually held on my birthday. My 16th birthday was spent on Crete, without presents, without anything special happening other than a toast at dinner, and birthday hugs from my parents and my sister. My 17th ended in tears. My 18th was spent at taekwon-do camp, with a present and a hug from my cousin, and a smile and a happy birthday from the guy I had a huge crush on. Last year, and the year before, I had to hint about what date it was before I got the hugs and the happy birthday wishes.

But it's always been okay. I don't care if I have a huge party with lots of presents, and I don't care if every single friend I have remembers to wish me a happy birthday. But yesterday? Yesterday was just a whole new level of blah.

I was woken up by a happy birthday text from my uncle, whose birthday was also yesterday. You'd think that was a auspicious start, but when I get a text, my phone screams profanities at me, which I usually think is amusing, but it's not the greatest thing to wake up to, especially not an hour and a half before you intended to wake up.

My parents shouted happy birthday just as they were leaving to run some errands. I had breakfast alone, and I opened the one present I received yesterday. It was a gift certificate from my sister, because the book I'd asked her for is not yet out, though I didn't know this when I asked for it. It's a perfectly good present, but it's hard to get that excited about a piece of plastic with a number on it, especially since I knew perfectly well what it was the moment that it was handed to me. That was, by the way, on Sunday morning, because my sister left town that day.

My parents came back, and my mother said they had no present for me, because they got me a computer for Christmas. Which would have been fine, if they hadn't told me that they thought no present to open whatsoever on my birthday was a bit sad, so I was kinda expecting something small, like a book or a DVD. But no. There was nothing. I know it's silly, and selfish, and awful of me to be disappointed, but I was.

For dinner, rather than making something I like, my mother made a chicken and veggie wok that I absolutely detest. And then she left for work. My father left to run some errands, and I was home alone for hours. When my father came home, we had strawberries and ice cream, which was nice, but whereas my sister got a party, four kinds of cake, and an incredibly expensive set of knives for her birthday, I didn't even get the one cake that I'd asked my mother to make for me. I was unceremoniously summoned to make my own bowl of strawberries and ice cream, and while I was eating, my father berated me for not doing enough stuff that day.

And that's pretty much it. The one thing that was kinda nice was that my best friend posted a birthday thread for me on the forum we run together, and it included a picture of Ben McKenzie. I kinda spoiled the surprise by telling her to post a birthday thread for me, because it didn't look like she was going to do anything, and I wanted at least some attention, but oh well.

Next year, I've decided that I don't have a birthday. It's just going to be another day in July. That's what it usually is anyway.

Happy birthday to me.

2010-07-26T17:57:00.002+02:00

As far as days go, this one is perfectly decent.

As far as birthdays go, this one is perfectly sucky.

Stairs with a view

2010-07-16T23:59:00.001+02:00

I was on my way downstairs to me room, and I happened to look out the window.

Happy Birthday.

2010-07-15T23:18:00.000+02:00

Happy 75th, grandma. I miss you.

Still lovin' the camera!

2010-07-10T23:25:00.001+02:00

Are you guys getting bored of my pictures yet?

Tough!

I love my new camera!

2010-07-09T15:02:00.005+02:00

So. I couldn't resist taking some more pictures today. I ended up with approximately one hundred pictures of my mom's various flowers. Plus some weeds that I thought looked interesting. And some landscapes. Wanna see?

Putting the camera through its paces

2010-07-08T23:12:00.003+02:00

... well, not really. I'm a photography noob. Before today, every time I tried going outside auto mode, the pictures came out sucky 99% of the time, and that other per cent were flukes. But I was reading up on stuff last night, and today, I had a blast running around with the camera. I'm hugely fascinated by clouds. And, apparently, wheat.

In the two hours I was outside, I managed to take 223 pictures. Well. Actually I took more, because I ended up deleting the ones that were obviously awful when I ran out of space on my memory card. I've just looked through all 223, and decided which ones I like enough to share with you. I'm left with ten. Impressive, eh?

Happiness is a new camera!

2010-07-07T18:46:00.002+02:00

My dad randomly asked me if I wanted his old camera, a Canon DS126151. What do you think I said?

Screw you, Mother Nature!

2010-07-07T14:46:00.001+02:00

Oh, how I hate being a girl! Someone hand me the pain killers!

Um. Okay.

2010-07-04T10:08:00.002+02:00

I applied for a job. A translating job, that I will be able to keep throughout the semester without interfering with my studies. The application wasn't very strenuous; I just filled out a form online, and I attached my resume, which, I'll admit, is not very impressive, seeing as the jobs I've worked so far, are mostly summer jobs.

Fast forward one week.

I got an email from the company I applied with, telling me they needed another resume, that included these specific details:

My mother tongue

Country where I did my primary education

Translation experiences in detail

My present residential address

Place of my birth

...

Did I mention that I included a resume when I first applied? Yeah, I did. With all the above information, either outright stated or implied. I didn't specifically say that I'm born in Norway, but seeing as my mother tongue is Norwegian... I thought they would have guessed. The only thing of what's listed that I didn't include, is my translation experience.

Because I have none. Which was also made quite clear by the resume I sent, seeing as it clearly states that I have been a university student for four years, and every job I've ever had was listed, neatly in chronological order even! Guess what? None of them were translating jobs!

Oh well, I'm off to spell things out for my future employers!

(Small aside: translation experience is not a requirement. They just need someone who speak both English and another language fluently. Which I do.)

Degree

2010-06-20T15:27:00.004+02:00

I totally have a degree in general psychology now. Wow.

I've also given my parents more ammo in the 'Heidi is a flaming pessimist" arsenal. My dad asked me how my thesis paper had gone, and I told him I hadn't checked, because I was afraid to. I knew it had gone badly. The night before my deadline, I was crying for hours because of a negative email my advisor had sent me. In retrospect, I see that I might have jumped to conclusions because I didn't feel like I'd done a good job. Anyway. After my father asked, I decided that I might as well get it over with. So I turned on my computer, and logged on to check the results.

I got a B.

Really, Nuance? Really?

2010-05-28T20:03:00.002+02:00

Lately, I've been looking into acquiring Dragon NaturallySpeaking, so that I won't have to type up things that I've written by hand, because I find that to be a pain in the ass. However, I'm really glad I did some research on the program first.

Apparently, the company charges for customer support.

I can't decide if it's a terrible idea, or a brilliant. On one hand, you're going to get a lot of angry customers who feel that support for their faulty program should be free. On the other hand, there's a lot of money in taking candy from children. Which, hello! is really what this is. If you call them, that's twenty bucks. If you send them an email, that's ten. And guess what folks? This program apparently has a lot of problems. Maybe that's why Nuance doesn't care about keeping their customers happy? They've got enough money from the suckers who already bought the 100+ dollar program, expecting it to, you know... work.

The end of the world

2010-05-10T01:10:00.000+02:00

Ever since I was old enough to realize what death entailed, I've feared it. I clearly remember lying in bed when I was 12-13 years old and thinking of what it would be like to not exist. I never really stopped thinking about it. I can't really wrap my head around non-existence, that I will one day cease living. At the same time, I am painfully aware of that one day, I will. In fact, I can't stop thinking about it.

Sometimes, I lie in bed and chant to myself 'I don't want to die, I don't want to die', as if I need to specifiy that I want to live. Other days, I lie in bed, and I look from my left wrist to the rack of knives on the kitchen counter, and I think 'what if'. I know I'm not really going to slit my wrists, because the only thing I'm more scared of than having to live my life, is to not get to live it. But I look at the knives, and I think. I think of simpler times, when there was no responsibility, when my life had a direction, when there weren't so many big questions that needed answers. I know that life is never going to be like that again, and it makes me so unbearably sad. Because my life right now? So far away from my sweet carefree childhood that I wonder how I ever got from there to here.

My childhood was idyllic. I was raised in a rural area, where there was no need to lock your doors, because nothing would happen. My parents weren't afraid to let me go off exploring. My neighbors all knew my name. I was friends with every single person in my class at school.

But it's all slipping away. Like a metaphor for my own existence, the world is catching up with the paradise of my childhood. People I grew up with have died of drug overdoses. People I went to school with have died in traffic accidents. My childhood friends have suffered through life-changing decisions, and debilitating illnesses. We have to lock our front door if we're going out now. Children can't leave their bikes unlocked outside of the elementary school anymore. There's so much violence, where I thought there would never be any.

It's all slipping away from me.

And me? I'm slipping with it. I'm in such a bad place right now. I've been thinking about seeing a therapist for months. I've even got the phone number saved on my phone. It's been there for months, but I haven't made the call. There's always an excuse not to. From a purely logical point of view, I know that these things I'm feeling, they're symptoms of depression.

But what I'm feeling isn't logical. I'm scared to discover that this bad place I'm in isn't really a bad place, it's just me, screwing up my life. That I'm stupid and lazy, and I was silly to ever think that I could be something. Most days, I can't even get out of bed, let alone do anything.

I just want it to stop.

Um. Okay. That's sick.

2010-04-19T14:10:00.002+02:00

I'm starting to run the first tentative analyses on the data I'm working with for my BA thesis, which concerns the prevalence of mental problems, and particularly symptoms of eating disorders, in obese children versus children of normal weight. At first, I thought I must have screwed up the scoring something fierce, 'cause it seemed to me like the skinny kids had all the highest total scores for body dissatisfaction. But I went back and checked a few of the surveys, and I realized I haven't made a mistake. The ten highest scores belong to children of normal weight. That's kind of sick.

What sleep pattern?

2010-04-17T06:01:00.002+02:00

You know it's bad when your Canadian friends, who are six hours behind you, start going to bed before you do.

Britney Spears

2010-04-16T15:16:00.002+02:00

I haven't liked Britney Spears since 'Oops, I did it again' (which is, in my humble opinion, one of the lamest songs ever sung), but look at this. I still don't like her music much, but this? Takes guts. And I applaud her for it.

A year ago today

2010-04-07T11:14:00.000+02:00

Rest in peace, Madeline. The world misses you.

Gee, thanks for all your help.

2010-03-30T21:42:00.003+02:00

Remember me mentioning that I started playing World of Warcraft? Yeah, still playing, despite not really understanding why I keep coming back. There's just something about leveling that intrigues me. I love that little flash of light around my character.

Anyway. A few days ago, there was a new patch released, and apparently, people have had a lot of problems with installing it, including me. I would go to play, the patch would start downloading, it would get to 70 percent, and then it would tell me that something went wrong and shut down completely. The error message suggested that I should try uninstalling and then reinstalling the program and then attempt to download the patch again. If that didn't work, I should contact technical support.

At first, the reinstallation worked. I managed to get the program patched, and you would think that was the end of it. It wasn't. The next day when I went to play, the patch started downloading again, for some reason. And it gave me the same error message as the last time. I wasn't particularly keen on uninstalling and reinstalling again, because it took me an hour and a half last time, so I decided to send an email to technical support. Their website said that it should take no more than 24 hours to get a reply.

Two days later, I finally received my answer, which was basically no answer at all. There was a somewhat personalized greeting at the beginning, and then a whole lot of technobabble that I assume was copied and pasted into the email. Problem? There was no indication that they had even read my message and were trying to figure out what was wrong in my individual case. Apparently, I'm supposed to experiment with the ten different possible fixes they provided me with. I might have a lot of time on my hands, but you know what? When I go to technical support, I expect technical support for my problem. I don't want ten different solutions that might or might not work, I want one solution that will most likely solve the problem, and if it doesn't do that, I want another suggestion. I realize that they're probably busy with all the emails about the new patch, but come on. This is ridiculous!

It's a day for the history books.

2010-03-29T20:35:00.002+02:00

I started writing my BA paper today. Finally. As we speak, I'm 131 words into a paper that needs to be at least 2000 words by next Friday, and 7000 words by early May. Looking at the example paper that my counsellor gave me to read, I'm actually not that worried anymore.

I don't know what to say...

2010-03-21T04:31:00.002+01:00

It's 4:30 in the morning. Yeah, I'm still up. But that's not the point. What is the point is that my phone just rang. Three times. Now, in itself, that is not so unusual. This time, however, the caller ID wasn't blocked. It was a number that my phone did not recognize. I looked up the number online, and what do you know. Black on white.

A name.

I'm so angry right now, I am actually shivering. Of course, I can't be a hundred per cent sure that it's him, but my stalker's M.O. has been to call me some time during the night, at a time when most normal people are sleeping. No one else ever does this. No one! I don't even get drunk calls from my friends, because my closest friends are just as asocial as I am.

The third time he called, I answered it. I don't know if it was a good idea, but I'd just seen his name, and I was fucking pissed. If I were chained up in a room with him on the other side of it, I'd gnaw off my limbs to get at him, I swear. Anyway. I answered the phone. He was all nonchalant and stuff, asking me if he could come see me! I asked him if he had any idea what time it was. He replied that he'd just gotten the last bus home. I take it that meant that he knew perfectly well what time it was. But normal people don't get off the bus at 4:30 in the morning and think "hey, I should call someone who I barely know!" Because while I do know who this guy is, he's more of an acquaintance of an acquaintance of an acquaintance. I can't even remember whether I've actually talked to him before. If I have, I certainly didn't say anything substantial. And I sure as hell didn't give him my number.

Maybe he was drunk. I don't know. He didn't sound terribly wasted, but being on this particular bus would indicate that he's been in town drinking. But that is no excuse. I don't care how sloshed you are, it is not normal to do something like this. It's just not. It's creepy as hell.

When I confronted him about calling all these years, he said that he's only called me once before. It could be true, I suppose. But how many night time stalkers can one girl have? I ain't even that pretty, and seeing as I can't remember whether I've talked to him or not, it probably isn't my razor sharp wit that had him hooked. I can see no sane reason for this guy to be calling me ever, let alone at 4:30 in the morning.

So why is he calling me?!

Perfect timing. No, really, perfect!

2010-03-19T03:27:00.003+01:00

As I've mentioned many times before, I'm a member of a few online writing communities. Actually, they're role playing games, but I've always felt that this term carries a bit of a kinky stigma, so that if I say I'm an online role player, people think I spend my evenings cybering or something. So I usually say that they're online writing communities, because that conjures up a much better image of what it is I do. Basically, I create characters for the sake of interacting with other people's characters, and we think up plots together, then play them out. It can sometimes be about sex, but most of the time, it's not. What kind of situations you get into depends a lot on the kind of game you join, but for me, it's normally everyday stuff with a little twist to make it interesting.

A few months ago, I joined a game with a character that I adored, but who I always knew was going to be a bit difficult to play, on account of his stats being rather different from the other characters. On a site where the majority of characters are students in their early twenties, my character is a thirty-six year old lecturer who pretty much loathes all his students. Yeah. I enjoy making things difficult for myself. But this one girl came along and offered to create a new character for the purpose of playing with me. I eagerly accepted the offer, and we started writing together. Then, around mid-December, she disappeared. Between then and now, she's barely been online at all. If she was online, it was to tell us that she wouldn't be online much. Which was okay, I understand that role playing is just a hobby, and sometimes, it needs to take a back seat to real life. But however understandable it is, it left me hanging. Having put a lot of work into this character of mine, I of course wanted to play him. Then one day I had an idea for a plot that I think would be great to play out. But I was apprehensive about it, because I didn't want the other girl to think I was ditching her. This new plot idea was never about trying to get out of the plot the two of us had together, it was about getting to play a character that I worked hard to create, and was initially stoked about playing.

Today, I finally made the decision to go forward with my idea. It's been more than three months since I've really talked to the other girl, so I thought it was safe to say that she wasn't coming back. So I set about trying to find someone who wanted to play out my idea with me. I told another role player friend of mine about the plot, and she said she was interested. Eventually, she even decided to take on one of the characters I needed. I was ecstatic.

Then, not even an hour and a half after finally setting things in motion, the other girl logs on. She's talking to me on AIM as we speak.

Perfect. Just perfect.

Well, that sucked!

2010-03-15T10:53:00.004+01:00

The fire alarm in my building goes off once a week or so. Which in itself is very nice.

Take a moment to note the sarcasm.

But this morning it was super extra nice, when I was rudely awoken by the howling alarm, and while I was trying to ignore it...

(Ahem. We tend to ignore it when the fire alarm goes off. On account of it going off once a weeek. The day there's actually a fire, there will be a lot of dead students.)

... while I was trying to ignore it, I heard someone knocking on my door. I hoped they would go away, so I stayed put. In bed. They knocked again. Then there were some scratching noises, and the sound of a key being turned and I realized that there were people coming into my apartment.

Catching a load of my bedhead and my jammies. Jammies which consists of a soccer jersey and hipsters. Also? The table in my apartment, which is clearly visible from the front door, has no less than two empty coke bottles, four dirty cups, an empty packet of Smash chocolates and various other items to complete that outrangous bummy student look.

Why couldn't this have happened last Monday, when my place was still pristine after cleaning it? Or better yet, not at all!

Love gives me hope!

2010-03-13T23:01:00.000+01:00

Click!

Wow. Just... wow.

2010-03-10T22:31:00.004+01:00

I'm thinking about getting an appointment to see a therapist, because things have been really bad lately. So I looked up the number to the Students' Psychological Health Service. The waiting time is apparently 5-7 weeks. Which, in itself, is pretty bad, but well... understandable. They offer free psychological help to thousands of students. But I coincidentally clicked the Suicide Help link (don't worry, I'm not actually suicidal. At least I don't think so.).

Page not found.

Wow. Just wow.

Dear World,

2010-03-10T22:08:00.001+01:00

You suck.

Love me.

The bucket list

2010-03-06T16:21:00.000+01:00

After Charlie died, I've been thinking about death a lot. Which, in itself, is not that unusual, because I'm pretty much an angsty person, and that's the way it always been. The thoughts about death started when I was around 12-13 years old. Around that time, my maternal grandfather died, which I'm sure fueled the fire. When I was fifteen, my paternal grandfather died, and my paternal grandmother died four years later, when I was nineteen. My maternal grandmother died before I was born. My mother was diagnosed with cancer when I was twenty. My father had a blood clot in his leg just last year, reminding us of our family history of heart attacks. So yeah, I've been confronted with death and the possibility of death a number of times. But never have I've been really confronted with the death of someone my age. Sure, I've read about teenagers dying, and twenty, thirty and fourty somethings, but they were always people that I didn't know, people that had no influence on my life in any way. With Charlie, it wasn't like that. With Charlie... it was kind of odd. He wasn't a part of my "real" life. He was just a faceless person that I enjoyed talking to online. When he died, nothing in my life changed. I do everything I used to do, and there is no 'gap' where he used to be. The only difference is that he is not logged on AIM anymore, but even when he was alive, that wasn't anything strange. So everything is the same as it always was, even though Charlie died. Except the person that I am. I am different because of Charlie's death.

One of the things I'm most scared of, is to die without living a meaningful life. I'm scared to be forgotten. If this day brings about the end of my existence, then what will people remember me by? They'd find me snuggled up under a dirty duvet (I've been meaning to do laundry, really...), with my computer perched atop my lap. They'd find a ton of dirty dishes, and a ton of unread books, and unseen DVD's. That's pretty much my life, you know. My computer, menial chores, books and movies. Pathetic, isn't it?

Oh, I'm sure my family and the few close friends I have would be sad. My best friend's life would change dramatically if I were no longer in it. Of course, that matters to me, to have touched her life like this, but apart from my family, she is the only person I can think of who would be affected by my death in a major way. The old friends I have from when I was a kid? I rarely speak to them anymore. The people from my taekwon-do club? They never knew me that well in the first place. The online writing communities that I'm part of? Well, I'm just someone on the other side of a computer screen. The people I go to school with? They wouldn't even notice I was gone.

So. In the spirit of making life meaningful, here's a list of what I want to do before my time is up. My bucket list.

Have a book published. Not just any book, a book that means something to someone.

Have a child.

Be in love.

Have someone be in love with me.

Get married.

Finish every book listed in '1001 books you have to read before you die'.

Watch every movie listed in '1001 movies you have to watch before you die'.

Read Ulysses.

Learn to speak Spanish.

Get a black belt in taekwon-do.

Adopt a child.

Be a foster mom.

Learn how to make my own clothes.

I will probably add to this list. But this is all I can think of for now. So. What's on your bucket list?

WoW.

2010-03-05T21:10:00.000+01:00

Yeah. Wow. Remember what I said about World of Warcraft just a little while ago? I said it was something that I would probably get bored with really easily. But guess what I spent literally all day playing today? Oh yeah. World of Warcraft.

Geek.

Heidi-ology

2010-03-01T13:53:00.002+01:00

Stole this from Wishing4One. Would post something... well, interesting, but oh noes! Life is not interesting right now.

FOODOLOGY:

What is your salad dressing of choice?
I don't like dressing. It makes things slimy. I don't put slimy things in my mouth.

What is your favorite sit-down restuarant?
Erm. I'm a student. I like whatever feeds me okay food cheaply.

What is your favorite fast food restaurant?
Kewpie in Lima, Ohio. Their chocolate malts... Man, I want another one of those!

What food could you eat every day for two weeks and not get sick of?
Anise pretzels. Apple scones. Potato dumplings. Fried leftover potato dumplings.

What are your pizza toppings of choice?
Me and my Norwegian self never really figured out what exactly toppings are. Well. I know it's what goes on top of a pizza (... duh?), but what is included in this term? Anything other than the tomato sauce? Is cheese a topping? Anyway, when I make pizza, I use ground beef, onion, garlic, various spices that I find hiding in my cupboard (oregano, basil, the like), and cheese. Lots and lots of cheese. God, I love cheese.

How many televisions are in your house?
Just one. I'm only one person. I really only have two rooms. One is a bathroom. I don't really have need for that many TV's.

What color cell phone do you have?
It's black with a wee bit of red here and there.

BIOLOGY:

Are you right-handed or left-handed?
Right-handed, with a touch of ambidextrious-ness.

Have you ever had anything removed from your body?
Does a mole count? That's the only surgery I can remember having. Oh, wait! I did have a baby incisor removed once, because the tooth that was supposed to be there was too far to the side. It was actually kinda gross. For months and months, I had a chain that went from my braces into my gums, where it was attached to the stubborn tooth to sorta... pull it in the right direction.

Have you ever been knocked unconscious?
Nope.

Have you ever fainted?
Twice. Once when I was home alone sick and taking a bath, I stood up too quickly, and went back down even more quickly. The entire bathroom floor was soaked, and I was SO scared my mom was going to ask why the rug was wet. The second time was early early in the morning when I was going out on my paper route. I usually ate breakfast after the paper route, but that day I was really hungry, so I decided to have an apple first. As I was walking into the living room with said apple, I just fell to the floor. I can't even remember being gone, but I woke up just in time to hear my mother coming out of the bathroom asking 'did she faint?'. No, mom, I'm just taking a very impromptu nap right here on the living room floor. But she insisted on doing my paper route that day, so I could go back to bed! Yay!

BULLCRAPOLOGY:

If it were possible, would you want to know the day you were going to die?
Holy crap, no! Isn't it bad enough knowing that you are going to die?

If you could change your name, what would you change it to?
Heh. My taste in names changes. So I guess I'd just stick with Heidi. I sometimes wish my parents had named me something a little more Norwegian though. Both my siblings have fairly Norwegian names, but me? Nope. The suckiest part about being named Heidi though, is that most people are sure they can pronounce it right, but they actually don't. Or... they do pronounce it right according to their dialect/language, but not according to my language and dialect.

How many pairs of flip flops do you own?
I think one. That I've worn like... once.

Last person you talked to?
My best friend came to borrow money for the bus to the airport. She's going home to her parents for a week.

FAVORITOLOGY:

Season?
I never could decide. All the season are great in their own way. I love for the return of sun and warmth, summer for the lazy days on the veranda with a book and cool summer evenings, fall for the pretty colors, and winter for snow and for Christmas. But I also hate winter for the cold and walking through slushy snow, summer for the excessive heat, and spring and fall for the neverending rain.

Holiday?
Christmas! It's the only holiday that I really celebrate.

Day of the week?
Saturday. Nothing to do, and you know you've got all next day to relax as well.

Month?
December. I just love preparing for Christmas.

Color?
Blue. And yellow.

Drink?
Depends on my mood. And the temperature.

Alcoholic?
Erm. I'm notoriously picky, so I don't actually drink that much. But I do like Battery Beach Tea in small doses. And Lynchburg Lemonades.

CURRENTOLOGY:

Missing someone?
Yes.

What are you listening to?
The buzz of my computer and the tapping of my fingers on the keyboard.

What are you watching?
The screen of my laptop. Duh.

Worrying about?
Life.

What's the last movie you saw?
I... actually don't remember. I think it might have been Dirty Harry. Gotta love Clint Eastwood!

Do you smile often?
Erm, I don't know? How often does an average person smile? I think I'm fairly easy to make smile, but I don't know if I'd say that I smile often.

If you could change your eye color what would it be?
I wouldn't change my eye color. But I do sometimes wish I had that darker circle around my iris. My eyes are too dark for that circle to be really visible.

What's on your wish list for your birthday?
Don't know. New books and DVD's?

Can you do a chin-up?
I can do assisted chin ups? Hahaha!

Does the future make you more nervous or excited?
Nervous!

Have you been in a car wreck?
No.

Have you caused a car wreck?
No.

Do you have an accent?
Everyone has an accent. It's impossible not to.

Last time you cried?
A couple of weeks ago.

Plans tonight?
Taekwon-do practice.

Have you ever felt like you hit rock bottom?
I'm a strange mix between pessimist and optimist. Things can always get worse.

Name three things you bought yesterday?
Nothing, nothing, and nothing.

Have you met someone who changed your life?
No.

For the better or worse?
Erm...

How did you bring in the New Year?
At a party.

Would you go back in time if you were given the chance?
Oh yeah!

What songs do you sing in the shower?
None or whatever song is stuck in my head at the time.

Have you held hands with someone today?
Nope.

Who was the last person you took a picture of?
Can't remember.

Are most of the friends in your life new or old?
Um. I don't know? I guess you could consider most of my friends to be old friends? My best friend and I have known each other nearly a decade, and my other friends that live here, I've known pretty much since I moved to the city four years ago. But I have friends that are much older friends than these, so I guess they could be considered new friends too?

Do you like pulpy orange juice?
Ew, no.

Last time you ate peanut butter and jelly?
Oh, jeez. A year ago, maybe?

What were you doing at 12 a.m. last night?
Baking!

What was the first thing you thought of when you woke up?
Can't remember.

It's official.

2010-02-25T18:58:00.003+01:00

I am an über-geek. The last couple of days I've been watching The Guild and I guess I was inspired, because I got it into my head that I wanted to try World of Warcraft. Yeah, like I needed another stupid and pointless activity to help me not do proper work. Anyway, so far, there is no sign of the famous addiction that everyone keeps talking about. I can actually see myself getting really bored with this really fast, 'cause at the moment, I'm just running around a lot. But who knows? Maybe this time next week, I'm gonna be skipping showers and lectures alike to spend just a little while longer WoW'ing.

Happy Nonsensical and Pointless Holiday!

2010-02-14T16:04:00.004+01:00

Or, you know... happy Valentine's Day!

Still hurtin'

2010-02-10T15:31:00.003+01:00

I can't stand this, I really can't. Charlie's best friend read his journal, and there's stuff about me in there.

"Heidi? Charlie -really- adored her. They had the most ridiculous conversations sometimes."

I really adored him too, despite not being given enough time with him. Not nearly enough.

I remembered a conversation we had this morning. My best friend and I usually have matching AIM statuses, and they're usually sick, morbid, dirty or all of the above. That's just how we roll. One night, not to long ago, it was "I'm in the mood for some CHINESE! *wink wink nudge nudge*". Charlie IM'ed me, saying that he too was in the mood for Chinese. I couldn't do anything but bust out laughing, because, as innocent as the statement may seem to the uninitiated (though I personally find it painfully obvious), it's actually not referring to Chinese food. It's referring to the super cute Chinese waiter at our favorite Chinese restaurant.

Also, he could pronounce my name. He went and looked it up, because I once told the writing community that they thought they could pronounce my name, but they actually couldn't. It's a very subtle difference between sounds and intonation. Even Norwegians get it wrong sometimes, because the pronunciation that my parents use (and thus, the one I consider right) is very localized to the place I grew up. So he probably couldn't pronounce it, despite trying to find out. But he went and looked it up.

Someone from the writing community said that the car accident was caused by a drunk driver. He survived. An idiot decided to get drunk and get behind the wheel, and now Charlie is gone. FOREVER! That's a long, long time. I'm going to be without Charlie much longer than I actually had him. You never know what you have until it's gone. Such a tired cliche. But man, is it ever true.

Hurtin'

2010-02-10T05:00:00.002+01:00

I miss you Charlie. Been thinking about you all day. I've cried a lot. How can I wrap my head around this? It's just not possible.

Thoughts about Charlie

2010-02-06T22:02:00.001+01:00

I never really got to know Charlie. It would probably be more accurate to say that we knew of each other, rather than that we knew each other. We were part of the same writing community, and only recently did we start talking to one another at AIM. We hit it off instantly, or at least I thought so. It made me happy to see 'hello gorgeous' flash across my screen, underneath his screen name. He was easy to talk to, although if you ask me today what it was that we talked about, the few times that we did get to talk, I would have to say I don't really know. It was mostly nonsensical things, about stuff we'd written or were planning to write. Sometimes we told each other about life in general, and about the people in it. We never said anything important.

His death doesn't really affect my life in an obvious way. There is no number on my cell phone that I will never again see flashing on my caller ID. I won't scroll by his number when I'm looking for another. There is no face associated with this person, no twinkling pair of eyes and no teasing smile to lament in their absence. There is no distinct smell that will remind me of him when it tickles my nostrils. There is no possession of mine that would bring back memories, no place to go to trigger remembrance. I don't even have the records of our conversations. It's like he was literally a figment of my imagination, except I know he wasn't, because if I look up his screen name in my buddy list, it's still there. He's just not online right now.

He died last Saturday. We didn't hear about it until Thursday night, and then we had it confirmed yesterday. That's almost a whole week that he was dead, and I had no idea. I didn't even think about his absence. This kind of thing is normal. People have lives outside the writing community, and if someone doesn't log on for a few days, or even a week or a month, I assume they're doing real life stuff with real life friends in real life places. Sometimes they disappear entirely, never to be seen again, and I never think about it. That's just the way it works. Sometimes, they come back though, and most of those times, we go on talking as if the absence never happened. Maybe Ill'll say 'hey, I haven't seen you in a while' and then they'll explain that they've been busy, or their internet went nuts, or they've been down with the flu. Simple, everyday explanations to be accepted without really thinking about it, because the people you know online aren't like your real life friends, and you understand and accept it when real life takes presendence over the people on the other side of the computer screen. It's normal. Hell, it's even healthy.

I expected Charlie to be back before I even started thinking about where he might have gone off to. I expected him to log onto AIM and tell me that work has been crazy, and that he can't wait to start writing again, and what do I think about this new idea? If it weren't for the fact that one of Charlie's real life friends belongs to the same writing community, I'd never stop expecting that. It's such a strange thing to think about. I have a very exstensive buddy list, both on AIM and MSN. Most of them, I don't talk to very often, but some, I've known for years. Some of them know things about me that I would never tell the real people in my real life, because it's so much easier to vent to your computer screen and to the unknown, but still familiar face on the other side. And if they die, chances are, I won't know. I'll think that real life got too hectic. Maybe they'll come back some day, maybe they won't. I'll just carry on with my own life until one or the other happens.

Except this time I can't. There is no maybe. Charlie died. He's not simply 'not online'. I won't log on to see his screen name any more. That breaks my heart, maybe even more than it has a right to. Like I said, my life hasn't changed because he's gone. I still wake up in the morning and go about my day. Charlie won't be here, just like he wasn't here last Friday morning, because he was sleeping, or working, or whatever it was that he was doing on the last full day of his life. My life isn't different at all. But my heart is.

RIP CHARLIE.

2010-02-04T23:51:00.002+01:00

I'm sorry we didn't get to know each other better.

Ugh!

2010-02-04T13:55:00.003+01:00

I was unexpectedly asked to speak in front of my web design class today. I was actually shivering. Shivering! How sad is that?

Thanks for the giggle, PETA!

2010-02-02T15:33:00.003+01:00

This probably isn't supposed to be funny. But I still laughed my ass off!

Fuck fuck fuck fuckity fuck!

2010-01-30T14:14:00.003+01:00

I'm writing my BA paper this semester, and I'm supposed to turn in a counsellor contract, signed by me and the woman who is supposed to guide me through the writing process. I've known about this since before Christmas, but I left the city quite early, and I didn't get a chance to go see my counsellor and have her sign the contract, so I sent an email to the person we're supposed to give the contracts to and asked her when they were due. She told me February 1st, and I breathed a sigh of relief. It could wait until after Christmas.

Except, when I came back to the city after Christmas, my counsellor didn't have a chance to see me until January 26th. Cutting it a bit close, but okay. I figured I could have the contract signed and then drop it off at the correct place afterwards. Except the woman who's collecting these things wasn't in her office. I thought fine, I'm going back to see my counsellor on January 28th, I'll drop it off then. Except I forgot. Then I thought, fine, I'm going back on January 29th, I'll drop it off then. Except the woman wasn't in her office. Again. Now it's the weekend. February 1st is on Monday. I was going to send the contract in the mail, and then hope it would arrive by Monday. But then when I went to get it and pop it in an envelope, I couldn't find the notebook I'd left it in to avoid it getting crumpled. I must have forgotten it in my counsellor's office on Friday when I was using it to make notes about the survey I was working with.

Excuse me while I go have an aneurysm.

Like I said, the deadline is Monday. And I have no idea if my counsellor will be in her office that day. She says she works from home a lot now, 'cause she's writing an article and she's finding it easier to concentrate when there are no distractions from her colleagues. If she's not in her office on Monday, I'm fucked. And I have no way of knowing whether or not she will be, because it's fucking SATURDAY, and neither the counsellor, nor the woman who handles the contracts is likely to check their emails until Monday. Which is a little bit late to find out whether the counsellor's going to be in her office or not, or whether it's okay for me to turn in the contract after the deadline.

Here's to hoping the stars align themselves on Monday, and that my counsellor will be in her office, the contract woman will be in hers, and that I actually did leave my note book in the counsellor's office so I can get this damn thing turned in.

That's a first!

2010-01-18T14:55:00.003+01:00

I like school I've always liked school. I was a very good student until I started university? Then it went downhill. Fast. Why? Because the courses I take lack structure, and I am no good at structuring myself.

But this semester, I signed up for a course in web design and web esthetics, 'cause my best friend is taking it, and I needed another class to make up my credit quota. We have homework! And I'm excited about it! My younger self would have scoffed and rolled her eyes quite expressively.

(Of course, some of the excitement is due to the fact that I've dabbled in web design since I was 14, and it'll be great to finally learn it properly!)

I wanna go back to Vegas

2010-01-05T02:06:00.002+01:00

Any brilliant ideas about how my friends and I can make approximately 20 000 bucks fast so that we can go to the Star Trek convention in August?

Waaaaaaaaaaaaanna!

2009: A summary

2010-01-01T20:07:00.001+01:00

¨Stole this one over at Burlap Condoms, 'cause I'm bored and I am a weirdo who actually enjoys filling out these things.

1. What did you do in 2009 that you’d never done before?
I went to a Star Trek convention in Las Vegas. If you had told me a year ago that I would be doing that, I would probably have laughed. I still maintain that I'm only a Trekkie Lite though.

2. Did you keep your New Year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I never make New Year's resolutions.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
No. But I have a friend who's pregnant!

4. Did anyone close to you die?
Thankfully, no.

5. What would you like to have in 2010 that you lacked in 2009?
Oh, the usual. A great boyfriend would be nice. For several reasons. Cough cough. Money would also be nice. A shitload of it, so I can pay for a trip for four to Vegas, seeing as two of my friends can't afford to go to the Star Trek convention again, and I don't want to go without them, but would still really really really like to go. Oh, and better grades would be nice.

6. What countries did you visit?
The US and the UK.

7. What date from 2009 will remain etched upon your memory, and why:
No idea. Nothing particularly noteworthy has happened. And even if it did, I suck at remembering exact dates, because I rarely know what date it is in the first place. As long as I know approximately what day it is, I'm good!

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Erm... I don't think I did anything special. Maybe I did well on my exams? They've probably posted the results by now, but I don't want to check, because I really think I did well, and I'll be so disappointed if I didn't.

9. What was your biggest failure?
I flunked one of my courses before the summer. I thought I'd done well, then too.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
No. I stayed remarkably healthy, despite gallivanting through the US and the UK at the height of the swine flu mania. Of course, I think the swine flu hype is a bit of a storm in a tea cup.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
Heh. I don't do a lot of shopping. Barely any at all. Apart from books and DVDs. I bought the Gathering Storm a few months ago! I thought that was a good purchase. But I've probably bought something better too, I just can't remember it right now. OH! Maybe my digital kitchen scales? It's been very helpful!

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
Um. No one were exceptionally good this year. Maybe my best friend? She got an A on her bachelor thesis!

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
The ex-roommates. They told me one night that they needed to talk to me, and sat me down in the living room to tell me that they had decided to move out, which effictively meant that I had to move out. I might understand their reasons for wanting to move out, but I have trouble understanding why they had to go about it the way they did, talking about it behind my back and waiting to tell me until the decision had already been made. Even a little 'hey, we're thinking about moving out' would have been nice, but no. Just "you're homeless in three months. Sorry."

14. Where did most of your money go?
The trip to Vegas was rather expensive. Other than that, my DVD collection grew. It usually does.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Vegas, baby!

16. What song will always remind you of 2009?
No idea.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
i. happier or sadder? About the same, I think.
ii. thinner or fatter? Thinner!
iii. richer or poorer? A little poorer. But only financially, and I'm glad I spent a shitload of money to go to Vegas. I'd rather have the memories of a great time than the money.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of?
Exercise and studying.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of?
Eating chocolate. Sorta. It was fun while I was eating it!

20. How will you be spending Christmas?
This Christmas? Or Christmas in 2010? Oh, what does it matter? I always spend Christmas with my family.

21. There was no #21. I don’t know why there was no 21.
I don't know either.

22. Did you fall in love in 2009?
No.

23. How many one-night stands?
None. I did have one offer though... from a very drunk fellow.

24. What was your favorite TV program?
Oh, I watch so many of them. I'm a CSI junkie, so maybe that? Though I did love Heroes and True Blood. And Ugly Betty! Oh, and Hell's Kitchen (I don't know whether to be scared or turned on by Gordon Ramsey!).

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?
No.

26. What was the best book you read?
I've almost finished The Well of Ascension by Brandon Sanderson. Before that, I read Mistborn by the same author. I didn't actually enjoy Mistborn that much, but I still have to read the two other books in the triology. Though... it's not that bad, I suppose. Just... not great. Oh, and I feel that I should mention that before this, I read Sula by Toni Morrison. See, I do sometimes read smart books as well!

27. What was your greatest musical discovery?
There was a band called the Chakras at a music festival I went to this summer. I also discovered a man named Mark Kozelek who was at the same festival. Apperently, he's quite famous, but I'd never heard of him before. I do love his music though!

28. What did you want and get?
A new laptop! Score! Also, an iPod. And weight loss. Though technically, that's not done yet.

30. What was your favorite film of this year?
The new Star Trek movie was great. Oh, and I love love loved East of Eden with James Dean. And Rebel Without a Cause.

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you (optional)?
I had a movie marathon with my best friend. I turned 23.

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Better grades, more money and a boyfriend who's great in bed.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2009?
Casual.

34. What kept you sane?
Who says I'm sane?

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Zachary Quinto comes high up on the list. As does Chris Pine. And, as always, Ben McKenzie.

36. What political issue stirred you the most?
Gay rights.

37. Whom did you miss?
As always, my late grandmother.

38. Who was the best new person you met?
I was quite excited about 'meeting' Leonard Nimoy, William Shatner, Connor Trinneer, Dominic Keating, John Billingsley, Anthony Mongomery and Zachary Quinto. Although, I suppose I didn't really meet them. It was very 'hi and bye'. But still. I was in the same room.

As for real new people... I don't think I met that many. I'm outrageously asocial.

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2009:
I never learn.

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year:
No thanks.

Why can't he just STOP?!

2009-12-31T03:29:00.005+01:00

I just had the worst scare of my life. My stalker called again a few minutes ago. My phone was set so that no one but family and close friends can reach me, but since I'm awake, I saw the phone flashing. I shrugged it off, as I usually do, but I can't help but feel a little extra wary after I know he's just called, especially when I'm at my parents's house. I tend to listen closely for any indication of someone lurking around outside the house. Usually, I hear nothing but the usual creeks and squeaks of a nearly thirty year old house, the wind and sometimes the clothes line slowly revolving. I manage very well to freak myself out with those sounds, but tonight was different. I actually heard noises of someone trying to get in. I swear, my heart was close to jumping out of my chest and all I could think was 'oh my god, this is it, this is it, this is it.' I was so sure that he was outside, and I was about to come face to face with him. I was paralyzed. I literally had no idea what to do. I wanted to go wake my parents, but in order to do that, I had to exit my room, which is next to the back entrance, where I thought I heard him. But it was either that or just wait for him to come to me. So I mustered up all the courage I could find, jumped out of bed and opened my bedroom door.

IT WAS MY FUCKING SISTER, WHO I WAS ONE HUNDRED PERCENT SURE WAS ALREADY SLEEPING.

She apparently had trouble opening the bathroom door, and from inside my bedroom, that sounded like someone trying to open the back door. I don't think I've ever been so relieved to see her before in my life, and it just got to be too much for me. The mind-numbing fear, the thumping heart, the rapid breathing, the rush of relief to see a familiar face instead of a madman with a knife. I broke down crying, and I was shaking like crazy, so my sister stood hugging me for a good five minutes. She started crying too, 'cause I startled her, and then we just started laughing at the tears running down both our cheeks.

I really don't get it. It's been four and a half years now. And I haven't answered the phone in almost as long. But he still keeps calling, and I act all cool about it, but it freaks me out to the point where I'm afraid to go to sleep in my parents house. I don't want to tell my mom, because she will just start to blather about catching the guy again. Sure, I think it would be great if they could just find out who this guy is and make him stop calling me, but really? I have no faith in the possibility that that event will ever take place. The police just wants me to deal with this by changing my number, which just... misses the point entirely. It's not the fact that he calls that freaks me out. I can set my phone so that his calls don't wake me up. But I can't set my brain to ignore the knowledge that this person exists. I don't know who he is, or where he is. I don't even know if I have anything to be scared of. He could be a harmless jerk. He could be a crazy axe murderer just waiting for the right time to strike. He could be something in between. The only thing I know for sure is that he does exist, and that's the scariest part of this whole deal.

Old friends

2009-12-29T00:08:00.002+01:00

I hung out with one of my oldest friends today. I met her when I was only 5-6 years old, and there was a time when we were thick as thieves. But life happens, and life has taken the two of us to live in two different cities for most of the years, so we rarely see each other. In fact, we didn't get a chance to get together this summer, so it's been over a year since I last saw her.

But the great thing about this old friend? If we'd had the opportunity, we'd still be thick as thieves. Years have passed since we hung out regularly, we're both very different from what we used to be, and we both have new friends, but no matter what happens, I'll always know that when we get together, all that disappears, and we can talk about anything. Which we do, with gusto, for hours and hours.

Winter wonderland

2009-12-27T19:42:00.001+01:00

It arrived a few days late, but finally the world outside my window is white!

Spoiled rotten and loving it!

2009-12-25T01:17:00.003+01:00

I had a good haul this year! I love my family and friends so much, and they're amazing gift buyers!

From my parents, I got a new computer, which I sorta asked for, but did not expect to get, because I thought it'd be to expensive. Of course, my parents told me that it's both this year's Christmas present and next year's birthday present, but I don't mind that at all. I have a new computer!

From my sister, I got a copy of The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency, which I've always sort of wanted to read, because I hear they're good, but haven't really wanted to read because they don't really sound like my cup of tea. If I have a cup of tea. There's a good chance that I don't.

From my brother, I got a suitcase, which... I won't lie, I'm not too excited about. Yeah yeah yeah. I'm a materialistic bitch. Sue me. I like useful things, I do, and I have actually been contemplating buying a new suitcase because my old one ended up cracked. But I'm a child at heart, and I prefer to buy the useful things myself, so that I can get cool presents at Christmas. Though I suppose I have my friends for that.

Speaking of my friends... They were good this year. And coordinated! From ex-roommate number one, I got season one of Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, which is one of the things that I specifically told them I wanted. In my gang, telling people what you want can be a double edged sword, because as ex-roommate #1 once so eloquently said it: "I don't want to buy you anything that you want!"

...

Obviously, she meant that she doesn't want to get me anything that I know I want, but this year, she was too lazy to figure out something clever to get me. As was ex-roommate #2, 'cause she got me season three of the same show, plus two Marlon Brando DVD's, 'cause she never got around to buying me a birthday present this year.

My best friend also forgot to get me a birthday present this year (apparently, July 26th is a very forgettable date...), so she too got me multiple presents. The first was season three of Deep Space Nine. Coordination? I like it. The second present from her, and my favorite present this year (apart from the computer...) was an anthology of Samuel Beckett's dramatic works. That's awesome with a side of fucking fantastic right there. The final present from her was David Malouf's An Imaginary Life, which I'm probably not going to be able to make heads or tails of, but she's going to talk my ear off about it, and then I'll end up loving it as well.

Then, from my cousin I got a box of chocolates (yum!) and a copy of a book called Dream Warrior by a woman named Sherrilyn Kenyon. I've never heard of it before, so I'm curious to read it and find out what it's like.

Finally, I got monies from distant relatives in Oslo. A lot of money! They have money coming out their ears, no grandchildren and only one daughter who makes a crapload of dough herself, so they like to spoil us instead. Which I have no objections to.

Oh, and I almost forgot, I got a DVD called 'What happens in Vegas' from a girl that... erm... I guess considers herself a friend of mine, but who I consider to be more of an acquaintance. Sure, I hang out with her from time to time, when the ex-roommates invite me over (they live with her now), but I don't think I'd ever hang out with her if it weren't for them. Anyway... the DVD seems to reflect the shallowness of our relationship quite well, seeing as it's starring Ashton Kutcher and Cameron Diaz, and it's about people that get drunk and married in Vegas. If I have a cup of tea, this is definitely not it.

But all in all, good haul this year!

Merry Christmas!

2009-12-24T13:51:00.001+01:00

In Norway, we open presents on Christmas Eve. And I'm going to go ahead and let complaints about Christmas becoming so commercial be damned, and say that I can't wait for tonight! Presents!

Weight blindness

2009-12-18T01:21:00.003+01:00

Seeing as I have a lot of time on my hands now that my exams are over, I've started to read a lot of blogs. In particular, I'm reading weight loss blogs, because that's what I'm preoccupied with at the moment. I've lost a lot of weight since last May, and I really want to keep going until I reach a weight that I'm comfortable with. Reading about other people's successes and failures is really motivating for me, though I don't think I'd ever be comfortable enough to do what they're doing, and put my "weight loss journey"* out in public. I don't want my own mother to know exactly what I weigh, so a bunch of strangers? Not happening.

Anyway.

As I've been reading these weight loss blogs, I've noticed something: I have absolutely zero talent for comparing the way my body looks to the way other people's bodies look. Zip! I'll be looking at a progress picture of someone and think "oh, she looks like she's about my size," only to find out that she's actually a hundred pounds heavier than me. That's kind of thought provoking.

2009-12-15T22:05:00.002+01:00

Today has been eventful. Mildly speaking.

My mother and I went to the gym around one o'clock, and then after, I jumped into the hot tub while my mother prepared dinner. When I was done, I walked casually into the kitchen, and my mother was hunched over the stove in a very odd way. She said it was just gas, and that the tea she was drinking would help. But it didn't. So she asked me to keep an eye on our dinner while she went to lie down. By the time the food was done, she was still not feeling better. She was feeling worse actually, and it was starting to look pretty scary. She was on the floor, hunched over the couch, and very obviously in a lot of pain. So I went to sit by her and stroke her back. It instantly took me back to that day nearly three years ago, right after my mother had had her first round of chemo. It started almost exactly like this. The half hour it took to drive her to the hospital was the worst half hour I've lived through, and I was so relieved when we were finally there, and the doctors could give her a shot for a pain. And another one. And then it was over. But today, I was the only one in the house, and there wasn't really any reason for her to feel this badly.

I was sitting there, thinking over and over again "please don't die, please don't die, please don't die!" My mother is generally a suck-it-up kind of person, so seeing her in pain isn't something I've witnessed too many times, which makes it extra difficult when it does happen, because you know it's bad. Nothing we did seemed to help ease the pain. Because my mother has had her ovaries, her uterus and part of her bowel taken out due to cancer, she is a bit more susceptible to volvulus, which is what we were scared of when the pain didn't go away. She called the doctor's office, explained the symptoms, and they told her to come in right away. That didn't really help with that 'oh my god, my mommy's dying' feeling I had. But you can't think like that, you just need to do whatever needs doing. So I drove her to the doctor's office, and as we were driving, the pain finally subsided. It turned out to be just gas. Color me relieved! But sheez, I'll be totally fine with this never happening again.

More evidence for my hate affair with the fashion industry

2009-12-14T18:08:00.003+01:00

My mother is having sinus surgery this coming Thursday, and today, she had to go to the hospital for a pre-surgery consultation. I had to buy my "sister-in-law"* a Christmas present, so even though she had plans to leave at 8:45 AM, I said I wanted to come. My mother gleefully agreed. Why so gleeful? It wasn't because she would get to enjoy my glorious company. I know. Shocker. Instead, she was gleeful because my presence would allow her to partake in one of her favorite activities of all time: picking out item after item after item of clothing that I tell her I don't like, then give me the look and say that I should try them on before passing judgment. She usually only gets to do this once a year, when I, once again, come home for Christmas without a single scrap of clothing that she deems worthy to wear when visiting relatives for Christmas festivities. So, needless to say, this is something she approaches with great vigor. Last Christmas, it ended in tears. Really.

As we were driving into the city, she mentioned casually that she wanted to go look at some digital cameras for my sister. Sure. Fine. Great. I wandered around the store for 30-40 minutes while she quizzed a very eager salesman of the pros and cons of a Nikon Coolpix and a Cannon... erm... something. In the end, she said she wanted to think about it, which is code speak for "call my husband and hear what he thinks I should do." And we left. But we didn't take the same short route back to the car. We crossed through the mall, and surprise surprise. We just happened to walk past a clothes store with some "cute" shirts on display outside. "Look, isn't this nice?" I looked. Raised my eyebrows. Told her I didn't like it. She told me to try it on anyway. I covertly rolled my eyes, and took the shirt from her to go find a dressing room. Protests are futile. Then, on my way to the dressing room, a stack of jeans caught her eye, and she caught one of the employee's eye. Suddenly, I had three pairs of jeans to try on, plus the original shirt, three other shirts, a tank top and a cardigan.

Don't you just love my mother?**

Of the four shirts I tried on, she bought two of them. You wanna guess what sizes these shirts were. The first was a perfectly reasonable medium. It was a bit loose around my shoulders, but a teeny tiny bit tight around my tummy. The second? A whopping XL, that fit... not quite snugly, but it was certainly not baggy either. What is up with that? Really?! Really?!

However, my mother also bought me a pair of jeans, which kinda sorta made up for the frustration with the enormous gap in the shirt sizes. Why? Because it's a size smaller than my smallest pair of jeans. Go me!

* She's not really my sister-in-law. Just my brother's girlfriend. They've been together for... erm... six-ish years now.

** My sister would probably love it if this happened to her. But it doesn't, 'cause she likes to shop for clothes herself, and because of that, she always has things to wear that won't embarrass my mother in front of relatives.

What to say when words are cheap?

2009-12-03T17:21:00.003+01:00

My best friend's grandmother passed away today. Since we're generally more of a silly, fun-loving, ever joking twosome, it's hard to know what to say to her. When my own grandmother passed away nearly five years ago, while I was still in the States, there was nothing anyone could say. There still isn't. I still miss her and wish things could be different somehow. I'm sure my best friend feels the same.

But I still wish there was something I could do to make it better.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas...

2009-12-02T13:31:00.002+01:00

My exams are TOTALLY over now. Like WHOA. OMG OMG OMG OMG! I feel blissful. And kinda giddy.

What's more? I think I might actually have done well on both my exams. I saw the questions and I KNEW what to write. I didn't have to doodle for an hour hoping that an association would just come to me.

Like I said. Blissful. And giddy.

I win.

2009-11-30T21:40:00.001+01:00

I need a shotgun.

2009-11-22T00:40:00.005+01:00

Tonight is the night of the annual Christmas party in my building. Which was fine earlier in the evening, when I couldn't actually hear them. But as the party goers drink more, the volume gets ever louder. I've been able to hear the music clearly for about fifteen minutes now.

So far, they've played Aqua, Paradisio and Vengaboys.

...

Aqua, Paradisio and Vengaboys!

Decision making time

2009-11-20T15:06:00.002+01:00

I was supposed to have written my BA paper last semester, but because big serious projects scare the hell out of me, I decided to postpone it, and rather retake some subjects that I didn't do so well in. Last November, I went to a meeting concerning the bachelor paper solely to find out how I should go about postponing it. Actually, it was more like a lecture than a meeting, so I had to sit through about an hour of... well, lecturing before there was any chance of asking questions. And what I heard? It scared the crap out of me. So when I got the email this year about the meeting, the irrational dread of actually going kicked in immediately. This year, I wouldn't be going there only to find out how to postpone. I'd be required to find a group of people to write with, and to choose a topic right off the bat, literally 45 minutes after having been presented to the options for the first time.

But it was less scary than I'd anticipated. This year, they told us that they couldn't force us to pair up to write the paper. If we want to write alone and there were enough counselors and topics, we can do that. Which is a relief, because I'm not good with people, and the idea of being judged academically on something that's not just your work doesn't sit quite right with me. So, the plan is to write alone if I can, but I've opened myself up to writing in a group if that's going to get me the topic I want, seeing as there are only thirteen topics to choose from.

Instead of giving us 45 minutes to decide, this year, they gave us a week, but reminded us that the topics would be handed out on a first come, first served basis. So now, two days after the meeting, I've already emailed the administrator my list of prioritized topics. I was actually pleasantly surprised at how interesting most of the topics were. Of course, that made it that much more difficult to decide which topic I would like to write about the most, but after a round of reading project outlines, I finally came up with an order that I like:

1. Time out
Have you seen the show Supernanny? It's basically about a professional nanny who visits families with problem children and tries to help them eradicate the problem behavior. If I get this topic, I'll be looking at the show and its methods through academic eyes, explain the learning principles behind the methods, how they are used and discuss critically the ethical and moral questions of using them. Doesn't that sound great? I already love Nanny 911, and I'm hoping I could incorporate these shows into the paper as well, though I don't know how doable that is when I only have roughly 7000 words at my disposal.

2. Peronsality Inventory for Children (PIC): Differences in scores for obese children and children of healthy weight.
Also an incredibly interesting topic for me, seeing as I've struggled a lot with my weight since I was very young. This is not a theoretical paper though. I'd actually be helping out with real research. Someone pointed out that they're using the BA students to do the dirty work for the real researchers, since the things we'll be doing is plotting the scores from 90 questionnaires that have 420 questions each. In case you were wondering, this is mind-numbingly boring work that takes forever. At the end of that, we get to run analyzes on the numbers though. Which kinda scares me, because the statistics class that is supposed to prepare us for this kind of thing? Yeah, I loathed it. Most of the papers are empirical though, so unless I get my first choice, I'll most likely have to use SPSS (statistical analysis program) to get my paper written. Which is bad. But at least I'll have help.

3. The connection between mother-child separation, social stress and anxiety behavior.
Again, interesting topic for me personally, 'cause I'm a pretty stressed out and anxious individual, and I have suspicions that my mother was a little bit 'out of it' when I was born, because her mother died while she was pregnant with me. Anyway, we'll be using newborn lab rats, and dividing them into three groups. One group is going to be separated from their mother for three hours every day, the second group for ten minutes, and the third group not at all. When the rats are grown, we're putting them through a EPM procedure, which basically means putting them in a plus maze. A plus maze is a box shaped like a plus sign, and two of the 'arms' are closed, while the other two are open. I suppose where the rat chooses to go is a measure of anxiety behavior.

4. Perceived stress and achievement in patients with functional stomach ailments.
What is it with me and the stress topics, eh? This is about how the connection between functional stomach ailments (as opposed to somatic stomach ailments, where you can point to something and say 'this is what's causing it') and coping in every day life. Not that much to say, really. But it's interesting!

5. Goal orientations, life satisfaction and academic achievement
Put simply, people either have mastery goals or performance goals. Mastery goals are about, well... mastering what you're doing, whereas performance goals are about performing in front of others and not necessarily about knowing what you're doing, as long as you look good doing it. We're studying the connection between students' goal orientation in relation to their life satisfaction and their academic achievement. Personally, I think I'm more of a mastery goal type of student. Which is the bad orientation. Boo me!

6. Testing cognitive control abilities with an auditory attention paradigm
This is the fanciest topic. The aim of the project is to apply and evaluate a new short version of a recently established auditory attention paradigm that will allow for an economic application in future basic and clinical research projects. I heard that there would be fMRIs involved. Cool, huh? I assume a lot of people is going to want this one!

7. Validation of sleep hygiene scale
Another 'dirty work' paper. We'll be studying nearly 500 students, and the aim is to validate a new scale that assesses how electronic devices, like cell phones, TVs, computers, etc affects your sleep hygiene. This hits pretty close to home for me, seeing as I rarely go one night without using my computer!

8. Spatial hearing on speech sounds
This is the least explained project of those we can choose from, and I think that might be why it ended up so far down the list. The only thing it says on our handout is that we'll be studying spatial auditory attention and the cocktail party effect, using healthy people in a sound lab.

9. Do patients with somatic illnesses report more stress than patients with functional illnesses?
This is very close to number 4. Basically, we're checking which patients are more stressed: people with actual, palpable illnesses, or people with ailments that aren't rooted in an actual physical problem.

10. Socioeconomic status and health behaviors
Easily explained, we look at rich people and poor people and determine who is more concerned about taking care of themselves.

11. Does it pay to take experts' advice when gambling?
Yeah, we've gotten to the boring paper topics. See how this waaaay down my list? There's a reason for it. I don't think anyone is going to want to write this paper. I don't know why they've even included it.

12. Internet gambling - what's the trend over the last two years for Scandinavian Bwin-players?
Boring. Boring boring boring. It's more statistical than psychological, in my opinion. If they'd presented it as a topic related to addiction, it would be far more interesting, but nooo. Boring.

13. Existential psychotherapy.
The second and last theoretical paper. It says something about how much I would loathe to write this paper when I picked the statistics-instead-of-psychology papers ahead of this. Anyway. According to Wikipedia, "Existential psychotherapy suggests that in making our own choices we assume full responsibility for the results and blame no one but ourselves if the result is less than what was desired. The psychotherapist helps his or her patients/clients along this path: to discover why the patient/client is overburdened by the anxieties of aloneness and meaninglessness, to find new and better ways to manage these anxieties, to make new and healthy choices, and to emerge from therapy as a free and sound human being." Sounds like a load of pretentious bull to me.

...

Is that a bad thing to say? Ech. It still sounds like a load of bull.

Two candles.

2009-11-11T23:54:00.002+01:00

Stupid. Stupid stupid stupid!

2009-11-08T13:34:00.002+01:00

Last Sunday, my phone rang, and it wasn't my parents. This is actually quite unusual. My phone is sad and lonely, partly because I'm sad and lonely, but partly because the friends I want to talk to, I talk to in person or on various instant messenger system. It's free! I like free!

Anyway. My phone rang. I didn't recognize the number, so I had an idea what the call was about. And I was right. She wanted me to answer a few questions. Being bored, I agreed and subsequently spent twenty minutes of my life answering dumb questions about which power suppliers I've heard of (answer: the one I use...) and which words I associate with services that I have never ever used (answer: pass times three million). At the end of the conversation, the chick asked me if it was okay that they send me another questionnaire in the mail. And here's where the stupid comes in.

I said yes.

I should have realized that, hello! If it's too long for them to do it on the phone, it's probably far longer than any questionnaire that I ever want to complete. I was right again. It arrived in the mail yesterday.

It's 65 pages long.

And polar bears walk the streets of Oslo

2009-11-06T11:55:00.003+01:00

Yesterday, I was having an IM conversation with this American girl that I met through an online writing community. She calls herself Icelandic, and claims to have grown up in Denmark, and lived in Iceland for years before she moved to the states. And yet, she managed to say the following things to me:

Heidi: "I went swimming today."
Heidi: "I love swimming!"
American Chick: "Wasn't it cold?"

...

At this point, there were a lot of things I could have said, but most of them approached a level of snark that's not considered polite by most people you don't talk to that often. So I settled for saying "In a pool, silly!"

American Chick: "Was it heated?"

...

Really? Really?

Creep!

2009-11-03T22:25:00.003+01:00

Okay, so Norway isn't exactly the most talked about country in the world, and as a result, people from other cultures aren't all that familiar with what is stereotypically Norwegian. Well, allow me to educate you. We're cold and unapproachable. We don't smile at random people on the street. We don't talk to strangers unless drunk. In fact, the only way to befriend a Norwegian is by way of alcohol. Lots of it.

But today, I met someone who clearly had not heard this. I was talking a walk, and I was strolling along, listening to music and minding my own business. Then this guy smiles at me. I smiled back, but kept on walking. He followed me. I could see that he was trying to talk to me, but I was listening to music, and really had no desire to chat. Except he didn't get that. He kept following me, and fell into a pace that matched mine, so that he was walking next to me. I popped my ear phones out to see if maybe he had a question to ask. He did. Personal questions. What's your name? Do you live in the city? Where? Do you go to school here? What are you studying? What are you gonna do when you've finished school? Do you have a boyfriend?

At this point, I was starting to get really creeped out, because, although being told I'm beautiful is nice, it's not that nice to be told so over and over again by a Nigerian stranger who seems overly interested in being my friend. Even after I lied and said I had a boyfriend (a jealous boyfriend, even) he wouldn't quit. So I texted my best friend and told her about this creepy guy that was following me, hoping she'd get the picture and call me. She did. Except I'd already managed to shake him by just turning a corner very abruptly and telling him I really had to leave. But chatting to her, she reminded me that the exact same thing had happened to her on her way home from our place last year. And it's happened to a few other friends as well. Apparently, there's a group of guys in the city that start talking to random Norwegian girls, I guess hoping that they'll fall madly in love and marry them. I've got news for them though.

Not. Gonna. Happen. Ever. No chance in hell.

All they're managing to do is to creep out the poor girls. And violate pretty much every social norm that Norway has.

Sexy Spork!

2009-10-29T22:48:00.004+01:00

Click!

Holy smokes! I'm quite partial to the looks of both Zachary Quinto and Chris Pine, just as they are, but I've gotta say that together, they make for one very lickable guy!

I foresee a night of much pain

2009-10-17T15:40:00.000+02:00

Fabulous, but ow-so-hurtful: my new pair of heels!

A dose of confusion now and then...

2009-10-11T04:03:00.003+02:00

I think it might be a sign that I should turn off my computer and go to sleep when instead of 'confession is good for the soul' I read 'confusion is good for the soul'. It even took me a few moments to realize that it didn't make sense.

Oh em gee!

2009-10-08T22:40:00.001+02:00

Tonight I saw John Cleese live. How awesome is that?

Why am I awake?

2009-09-29T06:32:00.000+02:00

Would you look at that! Six has an AM too! I'd forgotten about that.

And the world's bitchiest friend award goes to...

2009-09-26T14:58:00.004+02:00

Yeah, yeah, I know I'm a cranky bitch, but is it really too much to ask that people don't assume that I can and will drop everything to go do something with them?

I had plans today. I was going to clean my apartment, then go to the gym, then have a long shower, do a bit of much needed self-pampering, and spend the rest of the night vegging out in front of the TV with my favorite movies. I know that my plans are trivial and totally changeable, and it's not as if they're asking me to spend an evening with the reincarnation of Jack the Ripper, but the thing is that my friends always do this. And I hate it! I'd be so much more inclined to do stuff with them if only they would think of asking me sooner than a few hours in advance.

That's what she said!

2009-09-16T13:00:00.001+02:00

"Not long after, there is mention of goodman Brown grasping his staff."

...

I can't believe I wrote that in a school paper!

The Death of a Dirty Dancer

2009-09-15T11:26:00.002+02:00

Dirty Dancing is one of my favorite movies. It's just one of those movies that most girls love. When I was younger, I used to put it on and watch a few minutes every morning while I was eating breakfast before school. All in all, I must have watched it hundreds of times. I never get sick of it. It's a beautiful movie.

And then this morning, a headline on my start page caught my eye. "Patrick Swayze Dead at Age 57". He died from pancreatic cancer, 20 months after having been diagnosed. I think I'm gonna dig out my Dirty Dancing DVD again tonight, watch it and remember how much I wished for a man like Johnny Castle.

R.I.P. Patrick Swayze.

Viva Las Vegas - Part III

2009-09-13T17:24:00.000+02:00

Oh look! It's only been a week and already I've written the third installment of The Las Vegas Chronicles! Maybe by the time I've covered the entire trip, I'll actually be able to say 'stay tuned' at the end of the post and mean it.

(Is that laughing I hear?) (If it is: shut up!)

Anyway. Thursday was the first day of the convention, and it was off to a really bad start when I got out of bed without a good night's sleep yet again, but a breakfast special consisting of eggs and pancakes with lots of maple syrup managed to cheer me up enough. It's amazing what you can do with sugar.

Obviuosly, since it was the first day of a four hour convention, it started off kind of slow. The on stage program didn't start until noon-ish, and it kicked off with a music video (for some reason, there were a lot of music videos made by fans being shown.) Then the first "celebrities" made their appearance. Notice the air quotes. I had to include 'em, 'cause I had no idea who these people were. No clue whatsoever. See, I like to classify myself as a Trekkie Lite. I enjoy watching the shows. I enjoyed the new movie. I've professed undying love to Dr. McCoy (DeForest Kelley, not Karl Urban.). I will happily engage in long conversations about the relationship between Kirk and Spock, mostly of a less serious nature. Ask me to quote obscure Starfleet regulations, and I guarantee you there will be a blank look on my face.

But for those especially interested, the people on stage were Tony Todd, Suzie Plakson, John Schuck, Spice Williams-Crosby and William Morgan Sheppard. They were mildly amusing. When they were done, there was a bit of a gap in the stage program, so we went to check out the vendor room, which was basically a huge room filled with various Star Trek memorabilia, plus a few effects from other sci fi shows. We had a blast checking out all the different booths and planning how to best part with our money. I was trying to be a little prudent, 'cause we still had quite a few days left in Vegas, and I figured that the vendor room was going to be there all weekend, and if I had any money burning holes in my pockets come Sunday night, I could spend it then.

The next big thing on stage was Max Grodenchik, who played Rom on Deep Space Nine. He was never one of my favorite characters, but Mr. Grodenchik is actually pretty funny in person, so it was worth seeing.

After Rom, it was time for JG Hertzler and Robert O'Reilly to take the stage, and they were dressed up as Martok and Gowron, their characters. Their performance was the first really awesome event of the convention. They were absolutely hilarious, though I have no idea how they were managing to run around like they were in Klingon costumes. The theatre was cold as a freezer to the rest of us, but I imagine that Klingon costumes could make a trip to the North Pole a nice and toasty experience.

Then there was another break in interesting stage events, and we took another spin in the vendor room, until Jonathan Frakes and Michael Dorn were up. They played Commander Riker and Lieutenant Worf on The Next Generation, and they seemed to take great delight in parodying Patrick Stewart, which resulted in a discussion among my friends about whether it is simply because Patrick Stewart is easy to make a parody of (let's face it, he is!) or because he's a bit of a pompous ass in real life.

After Riker and Worf, the show was pretty much over for us, despite there being a few more performances to go. It really was a slow first day though, with all the obscure "celebrities" that only the hardcore trekkies were interested in listening to. Like I said I am most definitely a Trekkie Lite, and the rest of the girls aren't really hardcore either, so we opted to go find dinner instead. It was surprisingly difficult, actually, though we did manage to track down a place in the end.

When we had some food in us, we went for a walk along the Strip, and we were gonna see the fountain show at Bellagio, which is supposed to be pretty spectacular. We wouldn't know anything about that though, 'cause it was too windy out, and they cancelled it. We trekked over to Treasure Island instead to catch the pirate show, and we waited there forever, because surprise surprise, it was windy there too, and they kept tricking us by saying 'wait five more minutes', maybe we'll do the show. By the time they finally told us they weren't going to do the show, I was about ready to pass out, I was so damn tired. I was actually hoping that they would say that they weren't doing the show, 'cause then we could go back to the hostel and I could get some sleep. Which is what happened.

And that's day three of the Las Vegas Chronicles. As boring as the first two? Yeah, I know, but hey... it's my blog. I can be boring all I want!