I'm listening

TANKER PÅ EN MANDAG

o Jeg sitter her og jobber mens jeg ser fram til lysere tider, og husker plutselig jeg ikke egentlig liker lys. Mørketiden passer meg egentlig fint, jeg har alltid vært en nattugle. Ikke det at jeg ikke liker sol, og midnattsolen er vel den beste type sol uansett, men... men ja. Lys liksom? Jeg er ikke lys, jeg er en mørk og sart sjel, eller det var iallefall det en fotograf fortalte meg en gang i tiden. Tullemannen.

o Jeg har vondt i hodet. Jeg har lyst til å plastre et mummiplaster på det, men det vil jo liksom ikke hjelpe, plaster funker bare på utsiden.

o Jeg har virkelig lyst til å tro at verden ikke er i ferd med å gå fullstending i dass, men det blir egentlig vanskeligere og vanskeligere å overbevise meg selv om at dette er faktum. Jeg lever litt i en boble, men selv det funker ikke helt. Vi ødelegger oss selv og jeg tror ikke noen vet hvordan vi skal stoppe det. Bortsett fra kanskje de folka som går rundt og gir ut gratis klemmer. Tror de er inne på noe, de.

o Jo eldre jeg blir, jo mer vanskelig blir det for meg å stole på folk.

o Den enste grunnen til at jeg lager en punktliste er at jeg er lat og ikke orker skrive en fornuftig tekst.

MAYBE, LIKE SERIOUSLY DUDE, I DON'T REALLY WANNA KNOW HOW YOUR GARDEN GROWS? OK! BECAUSE I JUST WANNA FLY, RIGHT?!

..argh.

Le Sigh

[Luke and Lorelai's first real date; they have just read a long story on the back of a menu, hence the menu line]

Lorelai: Hey, do you remember the first time we met?
Luke: What?
Lorelai: I'm just trying to remember the first time we met. It must have been at Luke's, right?
Luke: [nods] It was at Luke's, it was at lunch, it was a very busy day, the place was packed, and this person...
Lorelai: Ooh, is it me? Is it me?
Luke: This person comes tearing into the place in a caffeine frenzy.
Lorelai: [happily] Ooh, it's me.
Luke: I was with a customer. She interrupts me, wild-eyed, begging for coffee, so I tell her to wait her turn. Then she starts following me around, talking a mile a minute, saying God knows what. So finally I turn to her, and I tell her she's being annoying - sit down, shut up, I'll get to her when I get to her.
Lorelai: Y'know, I bet she took that very well, 'cause she sounds just delightful.
Luke: She asked me what my birthday was. I wouldn't tell her. She wouldn't stop talking. I gave in. I told her my birthday. Then she opened up the newspaper to the horoscope page, wrote something down, tore it out, handed it to me.
Lorelai: God, seriously. You wrote the menu, didn't you?
Luke: So I'm looking at this piece of paper in my hand, and under Scorpio, she had written 'You will meet an annoying woman today. Give her coffee and she'll go away.' I gave her coffee.
Lorelai: [grins] But she didn't go away.
Luke: She told me to hold on to that horoscope, put it in my wallet, and carry it around with me -
[takes a piece of paper from his wallet and gives it to her]
Luke: one day it would bring me luck.
Lorelai: [teasing] Well, man, I will say anything for a cup of coffee
[reads it, grows serious]
Lorelai: Um... I can't believe you kept this. You kept this in your wallet?
[sees his face]
Lorelai: You kept this in your wallet.
Luke: Eight years.
Lorelai: [emotionally] Eight years

SINT

I dag føler jeg meg skikkelig, skikkelig sint. Om jeg satt en tekopp på hodet mitt ville den begynt å koke. Det har egentlig ikke skjedd noe, men følelser med stor F preger livet mitt for tiden, så jeg er ikke så overrasket, for å si det sånn.

FAEN, altså. FAEN.

Blogg, Bloggere og Bloggest

One too many hearts

Jeg greier ikke slutte høre på The Bird and The Bee's valentines-EP "One too many hearts". Jeg vet ikke om det bare er det faktum at hele verden blir bitteliten og jeg kan ta på den med fingerspissene når jeg hører på sangene, eller at musikken setter følelsene mine i gang og får meg til å føle meg levende, men den står da altså på repeat mesteparten av tiden. Og det er rart, jeg hører vanligvis ikke på sanger mer enn en gang på rad.

Veggene mine er nesten fulle av ting; postkort, kalenderbilder og tegninger. Jeg får ikke til å henge det opp helt slik jeg vil, men det viktigste er at veggene mine skal fungere som en inspirasjonskilde, og få meg til å føle meg mer hjemme i mitt eget hjem. For jeg føler meg ikke alltid vel her, det er så mye rart av historie i disse veggene at det er vanskelig å tro på at noe nytt kommer til å skje, en ny dag vil begynne og jeg vil oppleve noe jeg aldri har opplevd før, istedet for at jeg bare våkner og gjentar gårsdagen. Rinse and repeat, liksom. Så derfor vil jeg omringe meg med kreativitet og farger; ting som inspirerer meg og ting som gjør meg glad. Materialismen tar litt på overhånd til tider, spesielt når det kommer til kjøp av bøker og filmer, men hei, jeg prøver bare å være glad, og når man er like enkel å gjøre lykkelig som meg er det så mye lettere å kjøpe et par søte postkort enn å søke dypt inn i seg selv og finne ut hva man bør gjøre for å våkne opp et bedre menneske dagen derpå. Det er trist å si det, men det er sant. Jeg er realistisk, men det betyr ikke at jeg prøver forandre meg selv.

Jeg tror det var det for nå. Makter ikke mer.

New Zealand

New Zealand virker som et fint sted, eller det er iallefall det jeg får intrykk av når jeg leser, ser film eller snakker om det med Vivian som har flyttet dit. Hun er en av heltene mine, Vivian, for hun følger drømmene sine. Tøffere enn toget tøffet hun helt til andre siden av kloden for å gå på skole og være tøff. Hun er heller ikke den eneste som har forlatt meg for bedre steder den siste tiden, og tankene mine går ut til alle de som har forflyttet seg. Jeg savner dem, jeg gjør det, og selv om jeg vet de savner meg også så var det tross alt de som dro. Og egoisten i meg kunne egentlig ønske at jeg også hadde dratt et sted, så folk kunne savne meg uten at det var deres egen feil.

Det gir ikke noen mening, jeg er klar over det.

Jeg gleder meg til jeg skal til Oslo. Der skal jeg bo hos Hege og møte barna hennes, stalke evas store kjærlighet og sikkert drikke en god del te med Karine og Fride. Det er så lenge siden jeg har sett noen av disse menneskene, men på tross av avstandene som tross alt er ganske store, er de folk som betyr ekstremt mye for meg. Det kan ta ganske lang tid mellom de gangene vi har kontakt, men det er bare noe helt spesielt å vite at det for det første finnes slike mennesker i verden, og for det andre at de faktisk vil være venn med meg.

Med meg. Oj.

Nå skjer det

Nå skjer det, nå skjer det, nå skjer det. Det er på tide at jeg tvinger fram "Kari 12 år" til allmennheten, dytter henne ut av hiet hun har tilbragt de siste iallefall 8 årene i, og setter henne i bruk.

Ja, jeg skriver på norsk. Nei, det har ikke tørnet for meg.

Jeg føler en forferdelig prestasjonsangst ved bruk av morsmålet. Når jeg skriver på engelsk greier jeg ikke bare utrykke meg bedre; jeg har også en unnskyldning om det jeg skriver ikke helt holder opp mot et nivå jeg føler jeg bør være på. Jeg er fullt klar over at ingen andre tenker slik når de leser resultatet, men det holder for meg, det er en usynlig sikkerhetsline som tillater meg å faktisk sette den digitale pennen i bruk.

Men hvorfor i helvette skal alt være så sabla bra da?

Se, her er jeg flink, jeg setter spørsmålstegn til norsk grammatikk. Man skal aldri begynne en setning med "men", men jeg gjør det uansett. "Klapp på ryggen", "Flink Kari", "..er det det du vil?". Jeg vet ikke hva jeg vil, jeg vil bare greie å utrykke meg uten å føle en usynlig tusen tonns lenke på foten, en kjetting som drar meg mot bunnen mens jeg prøver å svømme i havet av ord jeg har rukket å lært meg i løpet av mine 22 år på overflaten. Det man sikkert må satse på her er å strekke kjettingen såpass langt at man framdeles når overflaten om man vil; så får man heller dykke under om man føler seg litt ekstra modig.

Jeg er ikke modig. Jeg eier ikke mot. Hadde jeg eid mot, hadde jeg ikke sittet her i dag, da hadde jeg sikkert vært et helt annet sted, og vært veldig fornøyd med det. Men det er greit, det er ok, jeg gjør mitt beste for å akseptere meg selv og jeg vet at jeg ikke har kommet helt fram enda. Og for å være ærlig er jeg litt glad at det er slik det er, at jeg framdeles har mil å gå, framdeles kan se fram til det som ligger i siktet. Så lenge jeg ikke kaster bort hele nåtiden med å tenke på at framtiden vil bringe meg både det ene og det andre, kan jeg akseptere mine egne feil og mangler. Det går greit, liksom, når man vet man både kan og skal gjøre det bedre.

Nei, dette går ikke. Jeg greier ikke skrive. Jeg setter tankene på "papiret", men når jeg leser dem igjen er det bare et helsikkes rot, en stor knute av ord og bøyninger. Orker ikke, vil ikke, får prøve igjen i morgen.

"Men da gjør du det, da."

"Ja, da gjør jeg det."

Lazy!

Yay!

Hege and kari has gotten over their tequila angst! Party on!

Yep

Going out.. In public! Omg.

Pusi

All pretty like woha!

Edit from computer: MORE IRONY! This photo was taken by MY camera, before I sent it to Hege's phone, and THEN she sent it to MY phone, and I sent it from my phone to my blog, which is probably the silliest thing ever because I already have this image in my blog AND on my computer.

Ahwell.

Lanophone

Hahahaha.

Edit from computer: Ironically this photo was not taken with my phone camera, but with Hege's, quite some time ago. But anyway, this was my first visit to the world of lano photos sent to the internet from phones, which is incredibly silly and pointless in most cases. Especially this one. GO ME.

A Cold Wind Will Blow Through Your Door

When I Hated Him (Don't Tell Me)

It's been forever, hasn't it? I don't know why I stopped writing, or I sort of do, but I don't feel like explaining. Ah, it's the story of my life.

I don't want to explain.

I'm not having the best of days. I'm worried, and I'm moody, and I'm lonely and I'm cold. It's cold outside, but not the right kind of cold, not the pretty kind of cold, just the annoying kind, the kind no one really care for. It doesn't even feel good to be indoors next to a warm fireplace; the outside is all stressed out and all over the place. So you feel stressed out and all over the place, and you just want the weather to settle down. You want to settle down too.

I want a giant turtle plushie. So big it could cover all me, I'm sure it could console me, even if just a little. I JUST WANT SOMEONE TO HOLD ME TIGHT! (is it really that much to ask?)

I've been planning this entry for like a month, and then when I finally sit down to write it I cannot think of a single thing to write.

How depressing.

When pigs fly

An old fashioned love song

http://www.demonbaby.com/blog/2007/10/when-pigs-fly-death-of-oink-birth-of.html

Just felt like sharing this article with you all. While it is fairly long and the format isn't that user friendly it's a really good read, and I have to say that I agree with just about the entire article. It's a good read; so, well.. read it.

Also, go Trent:

What do you think about OiNK being shut down?
Trent: I'll admit I had an account there and frequented it quite often. At the end of the day, what made OiNK a great place was that it was like the world's greatest record store. Pretty much anything you could ever imagine, it was there, and it was there in the format you wanted. If OiNK cost anything, I would certainly have paid, but there isn't the equivalent of that in the retail space right now. iTunes kind of feels like Sam Goody to me. I don't feel cool when I go there. I'm tired of seeing John Mayer's face pop up. I feel like I'm being hustled when I visit there, and I don't think their product is that great. DRM, low bit rate, etc. Amazon has potential, but none of them get around the issue of pre-release leaks. And that's what's such a difficult puzzle at the moment. If your favorite band in the world has a leaked record out, do you listen to it or do you not listen to it? People on those boards, they're grateful for the person that uploaded it — they're the hero. They're not stealing it because they're going to make money off of it; they're stealing it because they love the band. I'm not saying that I think OiNK is morally correct, but I do know that it existed because it filled a void of what people want.

http://nymag.com/daily/entertainment/2007/10/trent_reznor_and_saul_williams.html

So long, and thanks for all the fish

Fuck was I

Love grows in me like a tumor,
parasites bent on devouring its host.
I'm developing my sense of humor,
till I can laugh at my heart between your teeth,
till I can laugh at my face beneath your feet.

Skillet on the stove is such a temptation,
maybe I'll be the lucky one that doesnt get burned.
What the fuck was I thinking?

Love plows through me like a dozer,
I've got more give than a bale of hay,
and there's always a big mess left over.
What did you do?
What did you say?

Skillet on the stove is such a temptation,
maybe I'll be the special one that doesnt get burned.
What the fuck was I thinking?

Love tears me up like a demon.
Opens the wounds and fills them with lead,
and I'm having some trouble just breathing.

If we werent such good friends I think that I'd hate you.
If we weren't such good friends I'd wish you were dead

Oh it's so embarrasing
I'm this awkward and uncomprable thing,
and I'm running out of places to hide

Unexpected Obstacles

Who Are You, Defenders Of The Universe?

I don't actually have anything to write about, I just feel like jotting something down. I am having serious problems concentrating, and it's taking a toll on my work. Shape up or ship out, like they say, it's getting to a point where it is now or never.

Ohwell, hopefully I can get better. I have to, right?

Hopefully.

I cannot keep down any food, I feel dizzy and disoriented, and I feel it is all justified because yesterday I made a comment about how I haven't really been sick in like half a year. Which is actually not true, I did have a weekend like this about 2 months ago or so. Hannes was here, he was sweet and helpful.. ugh, just.. don't think about it.

This is where it stops, before I start whining even more.

Crawling towards the sun

One of these things first

I have been ordered to write - I am writing. Hey, what's going on with you people? Personally I feel slightly dizzy and out of it; I've been working hard lately, so I decided that the arrival of a Friday meant that I would play hard too. It was fun, but the fruits I reaped aren't so sweet anymore. In a lot less complicated way of saying it I have a hang over.

Come and get me, boys.

Billy Ray Cyrus explains my feelings quite well in the song "Achy Breaky Heart":

But don't tell my heart, my achy breaky heart
I just don't think it'd understand
And if you tell my heart, my achy breaky heart
He might blow up and kill this man

You know you feel bad, but you do not want to admit it to your self. I guess what I went through this summer has left my emotions worried. They do not want to listen, they do not want to come out of their shell. I spent days in bed, not being able to do anything but cry, and now that things are.. so unbelievably and ridiculously frustrating and depressing and I am going nowhere I rarely ever feel a thing? I will always love you, Hannes, no matter what you do to me, but if you take my feelings I might hate you forever too.

It is just so beyond my grasp and understanding that someone who claims you are the love of their life can actually ignore you for days, weeks, like you are no one to them.

But enough about my stupid boy troubles.

My camera is full of photos I do NOT remember taking! Granted, I remember being there, and doing .. most of the things featured on them, but the fact that there are so many photos I do not even remember taking or that someone took kind of disturbs me. Ohmy. I went out with Susanne, who has yet to turn 20, so it was kind of limited where we could go. We met some funny people though, watched almost an entire movie (The Heartbreak Kid - it was a bad movie even to watch while drunk, which means it's a horrible movie to watch while sober), went bowling, ate at Subways, ran around, sat on the street and talked about how guys are fucking complicated and in the end one of Susanne's countless fans drove us both home. I actually managed to spill water all over my desk and fall asleep with my laptop in bed. In other words; a good night.

Today I am going to slow down considerably and do absolutely nothing. Yay.

I really want one of these:
http://www.wishingfish.com/610574.html
But they don't ship to Norway, so they can go suck it.

Now listen to Nouvelle Vague - I Melt with you. Goddammit.

Beat up the clowns!

Fluorescent Adolescent

How about.. how about I write an entry ignoring everything that really matters to me and pretend like the world is a happy-go-lucky place, catering to my wants and drugging me silly, happy, docile?

Yes, I do believe I will do just that. Now..

PILOT SEASON IS UPON US!

And my, what a turnout we have this year. I haven't been able to follow it quite as closely before, so this is a new experience for me, but the diversity, the high level of crap and the awesomeness actually surprised me. I'm totally in love with Pushing Daisies, it's rainbow sparkled murder-mystery-heartbreak thrown together to one strange package. The kind that makes you squirm and smile, but at the same time breaks your heart because you feel so alone when you watch it.

..yeah, this isn't gonna work.

I have lost my train of thought. I am incapable of writing anything right now, and it really irks me, because I feel the tingle in my fingertips, I feel the need to pour my thoughts (silly as they might be) out on this digital piece of paper.

My father tells me I should try to write a book, my mother makes me see people who will tell me what I should do with my life, me, I'm just trying to survive it all. And despite of everything; I miss your smell most of all.

The Devil Never Sleeps

Hand on your heart

One Two Three Four
Tell me that you love me more
Sleepless, long nights
That was what my youth was for

OLD teenage hopes are ALIVE at your door
Left you with nothing
But they want some more

Oh, oh, oh
You're changing your heart
Oh, oh, oh
You know who you are

Sweetheart, bitter heart
Now I can't tell you apart
Cozy and cold
Put the horse before the cart

Those teenage hopes
Who have tears in their eyes
Too scared to own up
To one little lie

Oh, oh, oh
You're changing your heart
Oh, oh, oh
You know who you are

One, two, three, four, five, six, nine, and ten
Money can't buy you back the love that you had then
One, two, three, four, five, six, nine, and ten
Money can't buy you back the love that you had then

Oh, oh, oh
You're changing your heart
Oh, oh, oh
You know who you are
Oh, oh, oh
You're changing your heart
Oh, oh, oh
You know who you are