Soundtrack: Rolling Stones - "Anybody seen my baby", "Gimme Shelter". So. What's going on, you may care to inquire. I am being absent and absent-minded at the same time, which works wonders for my study routine and leaves my blog site...lacking in updates. For which I am sincerely sorry, and I really wish I had more time on my hands, more time to spare, but such is life, ladies and gents, gotta be a proper student, do my job, etc - and got to get my non-holidaying life back on track! - which has me constantly on my toes and which makes a downright busybody out of me. Consequently, I fill my days with reading, organizing, registering, chatting, confronting more and less helpful people, shopping (books, because it makes me clever, apparently), shopping (other stuff, because it makes me happy!) running about, generally, whilst cooking or clicking or consuming 7-11 food, whenever that becomes the most convenient alternative, preferrably: gorging myself with canteen chocolate cake, when I have a moment off and can please my conscience too, combining cake with course reading. Which means a happy brain in almost every way. Even more ways. Fortunate arrangements, yes please. Also, have managed to communicate with both the infamous StudentWeb and the (that is, its) appointed info centre assistants without throwing stuff at walls or throwing stuff at them, impressingly enough. I kept my cool and my voice down and my feet on the floor, as I discussed the problems in a decent, constructive, co-operative manner; I even managed a smile. And a fond thankyou, since the guy actually was able to help me. Scara's learnt self-dicipline; now, how about that! The year starts off with better behavious, from myself and others, less enrolling difficulties, improved cantine food (cake was delicious indeed), gorgeous books to induldge in, no horrendous teachers (for the time being, and my lectures haven't really started yet, so: we'll see about that, but I allow myself some hope!), and - first and foremost - some superb award-winner news to return home to! Came back after a long day in town, and a long walk back - because I decided to throw in some exercise as well, while I was at it - only to find Kate Winslet popping up in every single corner of the internet, having won no less than two Golden Globes last night and receiving congratulations from all over the place. She gets a bunch from me too, of course; being a numer one Kate fan ever since "Titanic", and somewhat annoyed at her not triumphing over the past couple of years, I obviously deem this most appropriate and righteous and wish her all the best, she's truly deserved it. The best one out; keep up the good work, lady! Moreover, she made me cry (!) with her very emotional, very beautiful and exceptionally well intercut tankyou-speech (the last one); where we got to see her and Leonardo DiCaprio smile and weep and blow air-kisses simultaneously. 'Nuff to make me all soppy. Now I can't wait to see that brilliant film they're both in - which won't arrive in Norway until late February, or something like that, which comes as no big surprise but a big letdown nonetheless. Hate those import rules, I really do. Still, Kate won! And she's brilliant! What's even more amazing, and impressive, and tearjerkingly fantastic: Mickey Rourke, the one and only, won himself a best actor award for "The Wrestler"; marking a definitive comeback for the somewhat unlucky-in-showbiz (or just incredibly-bad-at-choosing-roles) actor genius, whom I've always admired and whom I've secretly adored too - haha - for ages, and at last they've learnt to appreciate his ever-so-undeniable abilities! Find it a bit unfair, though, how they keep calling this his ultimate return to the screen; after all, he was awesomeness impersonated in "Domino", and who could forget his puppy loving, purple clad, villain wannabe in "Once Upon a Time in Mexico"? Oh well. Point is: now everyone is aware of his presence and hopefully it'll gain him some proper roles in the future. My problem is, to finish off this Golden Globes rant, that due to the above-mentioned Norway-import-nonsense I haven't actually seen any of the movies nominated - save from a precious few, like "Wall-E"; congrats for best animation award! - and "Mamma Mia!"; guh. (Meryl could've won, though.) What else, I haven't actually seen any movies at all recently, which says even more about my business, worries me insane, and is utterly frustrating in every sense. I hope to radically increase my watching frequency over the next couple of weeks, as I get settled (in) and everything calms the fuck down and I can think again. For the moment, I just try to keep up and tag along, and I'm not that stressed, I just want to do the stuff I want to do and not only the stuff I have to do. Return to habits, not hectics! In other words: Scara might've become more civil, but she hasn't changed that much. Which is good, I guess. Got to go soon, for it's getting late, but let me just add: David Tennant is back from back trouble, thank goodness and hope he is (or will be) 100% recovered by now, Amy Winehouse is getting a divorce, at last, and getting better - so it seems - whereas Gisele Bündchen (personal model favourite; she is wonderful!) is getting married, and Fergie just got married, congrats both, and I've got a new neighbour whom I'd like to marry. We've met once. He has curly hair and lovely dress sense and is absolutely adorable, and I'm sure he's either gay or taken or both. Last but not least, and back to celeb news; Billie Piper is utterly adorable with her new-born son Winston, as pictured waltzing about on some Miami beach, where she's holidaying still and where I'd also love to be. To keep her and hubby Laurence Fox companied, ideally speaking, or just enjoy the sun and stillness for a while. That'd be lovely. Instead, I'm surviving Bergen wind and rain, and surfing only on the internet. Worrying about endless reading lists, escalating study loans, demands and efforts and spring wardrobe, film knowledge, book shortcomings, and other trivialities. And everyone else is earning millions, showing up at award shows, dating hunks, looking tanned and toned and grinning broadly. Yeye. Such is life, as the getting-wiser woman said.
Og: bare et lite poeng til, før man burde ha avsluttet, og over på et annet språk for de aldeles innvidde. Man overlever som kjent ikke Bergensk regn uten regntøy, men et lite tips ville kanhende vært å kle av seg denne ukledelige mundur før man kommer inn i trappen så man unngår å skremme vannet av trappe-sittende spanjoler, utvist fra kjøkkenfesten for å røyke; selv om dét muligens ikke er helt lovlig, men hvem bryr seg; og stakkars fyren så ut som han fikk fullstendig sjokk og røyken i nesen og verden i hodet, idet jeg kom subbende forbi. Med ork, stønn og flagrende gevanter; jeg så antagelig ut som myrmonsteret. Full av vann og med hetten på snei og flagrende Bergans-stoffer i alle retninger, som beskrevet, idet slike jakker ikke akkurat er små og diskré. Supplért, naturlig nok, med ballongbukser som ikke puster for fem øre, samt absolutt-ikke-vanntette joggesko, paraply i hånden og ullsokker utenpå. Lekkert. Jeg tror jeg må ut og kjøpe meg en skikkelig regnfrakk og kun bruke regnsettet mitt i nødstilfeller der ingen ser meg. Og tror jeg er monstrøs, med onde intensjoner og væpnet til halefinnene. Eller hva det var. Jeg er jo ikke det, jeg er bare føre var og alles klar og synes både været og klærne egentlig er ganske dårlige. Men, som jeg skrev til min mor da hun lurte på hvordan været skulle melde seg fremover: man må lide for uskjønnheten også. Noe i den duren. Ytterligere bør man, til tort og svie og inngående lærdom, ikke putte mobiltelefoner nedi lommer de kan falle ut av, slik at de faktisk faller ut og havner bak sengen og jeg ikke finner dem. Den. Og den lå der en god stund før jeg endelig fant den, og ikke nok med det - den stod på lydløs, og lo for seg selv, og jeg hadde jo uansett ingen andre telefoner å oppringe den med, og jeg ble en smule panisk. Hvoretter jeg nå legger den der jeg kan se den, til enhver tid, eller helst i en egen lomme i sekken der den ligger helt alene og surmuler og synes jeg er litt teit og overforsiktig, assa, men til pass for den. Møkkatelefon. (Og Scara har fått ny mobil, ja, hvis noen ennå lurte på dét. Men samme nummer!) Aller siste poeng, for idag: Mövenpick-makroner (med nougat!) fra Berlin, som jeg har spinket og spart på helt til nå, er eksepsjonelt god nattmat - skikkelig usunt, skikkelig dårlig for tennene, og skikkelig fantastisk velsmakende. Men som den kloke og taktiske sukkerelsker jeg er, vet jeg at nattmat går på neste dags spise-kvote, les: søtsak-kvote, hvilket vil si at den forsvinner i et unevnelige dragsug, helt usett, hvilket medfører en lykksalig, lettet-gjørende konklusjon om at om natten kan man spise så mye man vil, spesielt makroner. Hjerneføde, i skrivende ånd. Stund. Noe. Natta, nå!