feeling numb

Dear Diary.
Now I'm in the US. Been for 2 days now. Realizing time moves too fast. And I'm wasting it.

Can you pay my telephone bills?

Dear Diary.
Today is my last day in Norway! Yeeha! Anyway... here's my to-do list for today:
Go to insurance company to pick up insurance.
Go to SATS training center to tan and show them airplane tickets as not to pay fee this month.
Buy stuff at Kiwi for family.
Buy batteries, at least 4.
Find out address in Michigan.
Finish packing. (Remember to bring all financial gadgets and bills!)
Tidy up my mess throughout the house.
Clean bedroom.
Clean bathroom.
No more, methinks, so
Fix myself and go go go!
There's my day for ya!

it is indeed snowing!!!

Dear Diary.
The world is upside down, turning around. Its craaaaazy. I look out the window and I see the world fading with the snowfall. Can't it stop? I mean, snow is cozy, but its so impractical. I can't wear the shoes that I like and I have to tuck myself in clothes like an eskimo. OK, that IS cozy too, but only for Christmas. I wish there would be tons of snow for Xmas and then none the rest of the year. Guess I'm in the wrong country for that, huh? I will never get what I want for that. But in less than 2 weeks I'll be flying outta here. Weeeeeeeee! And then to another cold place... Oh well, there will be less snow there than here, at least.

do i have to write something here yet again?

Dear Diary.
Seeing drunk celebrities is... well... actually hilarious. At least this one was. Can't stop giggling.
I really like it when things are sorting out for me. When I realize things. Its good.
I'm bored now.

processing through complaining

Dear Diary.
I've had a migraine for over 24 hours now. It has decreased over the many hours, but going to work today was still a pain. I only get migraines when I'm exceptionally stressed. I don't feel stressed, which is the scary thing. But I haven't had an attack this strong since IB2. That is a freakishly long time, come to think of it. I always try to think of other things, realixing, pleasant things, when I get the worst shooting pains. Although the vision blurring is worse. Enough of that.

hey... too little, too late

Dear Diary.
I can't even begin to tell you how much I'm looking forward to going to the US in December. Sometimes I think my mentality is quite American. Not in the "I love Bush and I've never been outside the US"-way, but a different way. It'll be so much fun, that's all I have to say.

whenever i'm down, i can't call on anybody

Dear Diary.
I just realized I have very few friends here, where I live. To be exact, if you actually want the pathetic number, I have 3. 5 if I count a couple of my colleagues, but I rarely hang out with them. I'm not saying that it is bad to have few friends, but I have very little in common with them. They are not people I can do a lot of things with because they don't like to do the things I do. In addition to the fact that they aren't extremely good friends that I can talk to about anything. I know that I'm complaining here, but I feel down and I don't like it.

what i want is what i want

Dear Diary.
I've found out that I need a boyfriend. Scary, but true. I need a boyfriend because then I'll have a reason to tidy up my bedroom. I'll have someone to lean on when I'm not at my strongest. I'll have someone to push me so that I'll get what I want. Someone to lend me his big sweaters when I'm cold. Just someone to talk to and also yell at. I wish I had that.

whatever makes you happy

Dear Diary.
Now I finally have a fast internet-connection. That feels so good.

born to rule the world, that's me

Dear Diary.
I'm doing great right now. Although I went on a binge drinking spree last week, everything is stable now. Must remind myself to pick up my student loan, it will come in handy SOON.
I feel happy and stable now, which is the reason for me not having a lot to write, but as soon as I'm down in the dumps something will come up. I really miss my doggie, hope she's doing alright in that big country overseas. Apparently, the place she lives in is crawling with bunnies. Or rabbits. I'm not sure which. Anyway, that makes her go loco, pulling my sis out and about and into the bushes. Hi hi...
I will be mailing my ballot-request ASAP, as it is important for me to vote now that I can. I'm one of the few people in this country that can actually do something about you-know-who. (Trying to stay away from any political statement here) Even though it is a tiny vote, it will matter. Every vote matters even the tiniest bit.

Così così, oggi non sta molto bene...

Dear Diary.
House messy. And cold. I rule the world. I do. Seriously, I do. Whatever I say, goes. Whatever I do, is for the good of people. For humans. For humanity. But honestly, screw you.
How come I always want to talk I don't have anything to say? And when I do have something to say, I sit down and shut up. Because I want to.
I have this song in my head. Not even a song, but a piece of music. Classical music. It runs through my head over and over, escalating on a steady level. I guess I could find out which composer made it, but I'll live. I won't bother to run and turn on my fantastic classical hits cds.
The cds are kinda a contradiction in themselves. When you hear the expression classical hits, greatest classical pieces, etc, you think its dumb, right? But I'm not a connaiseur (please shut up if i misspelt that one) in any type of music. Yes, honesty is killing my credibility right now. But I do like classical music, even though I do not listen to it "the right way". As with any other type of music.
THAT'S my taste for YOU, darling!

the sun will never go down on me

Dear Diary.
Lovely day, lovely day, another 12 days and I will get paid. So not the next Monday, but the Monday after. Seems a very long distance from here. In 3 days my family leaves. That's too freaky to even think about, I just assumed the day would never come. Its just too unreal.
The sun is shining now. Of course, as today is a day I'm working. Inside. I bet that on Sunday there'll be a hailstorm or something. This summer the weather gods have hated me. So have the god of money and the god of friendship, as well as the god of willpower. Yikes.
A change is coming, it has come, I can feel it. Finally I'm doing something that makes me happy, something I know brings me closer to my goals and/or dreams. Finally I feel contempt. Not happy, no, but contempt. Happiness is overrated. When I am happy, it acts as a lightning bolt. I don't have to explain that comparison, do I? You are smart enough to understand it.
In only 4 hours work starts. I guess that means I have to get off this compy and get dressed, some studying must be done before the earning of cash.

Disappointing shocker

Dear Diary.
Worked at that stupid place again today. Any "normal" person working there goes insane. Any insane person working there sinks deeper into their insanity. I am crazy, I'm not just unwell.
Saw Fight Club yesterday. For the first time. My little sis wanted some action, I persuaded her to rent Fight Club. And don't I regret it. I see this film as a sucky action film trying to be clever. Had the director chosen to go for only one of the directions in this movie, it might have been good. The actors were great, though. But seriously, don't see this film. See Pulp Fiction or A Beautiful Mind. Not this piece of ****. When you set out to make a cult classic, this is the result. An embarassment.
And I thought it was really good!

write an article for the times instead

Dear Diary.
Chicken Tikkamasala is for dinner today. House cleaning is the schedual this evening. No, actually, I mean organizing. I do love organizing. It seems weird coming from me, being one of the messiest people in the world, but I am actually fixated with organizing. The reason it never gets done is because it requires a lot of tidying up before the fun organizing part starts. I'd love to Feng Shui the entire house, but that is never going to happen.
I hate poetry. I really hate it. Poets are a group of people that think they are too DEEP and COMPLICATED to be authors. So, they write a lot of bullshit. No, I'm not too stupid or too dumb to understand their "poetic language" or whatever you might call it. Me, myself, I love imagery and hidden meanings, etc. I just think there's a limit. What poets often do is make a dry loaf of bread seem like a wedding cake. It's got all the right cream and ribbons and loads of other decorations. But when you taste it, its boring, flat and maybe even disgusting. Had they put a little bit more effort into their ingredients and/or craftsmanship, they could at least have made waffles! But no, to them the important part is the exterior, the first impression. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying all poets are like that. Yet a good handful of them give you that vibe.
I just don't like poetry.

yikes! what was she thinking?

Dear Diary.
I had this horrible dream. At least, to me, it was horrible. You see, my fam's moving to the states for one year and I'll be staying in our big house with one tenant, a friend of mine from Disney. She's renting a room on the ground floor, quite big, you see.
Well, here's the dream. That room was slightly longer in the dream and my mom had split it in two unequal halves. My friend was supposed to stay in the bigger half and four old ladies in the other. Three of them were 75. In this dream, I thought it was a dream and went along with it. But later I realized this wasn't a dream and blew up on my mother. I was so angry, I think I'm still stressed. Funny thing was, our entire family was visiting and they all supported my mother. The reason I was so mad was because I knew she had gotten these old ladies to watch me. Thing is, I actually said, word by word. "I thought I was dreaming this, but it is true!" I got so mad I pushed a tree over and carried it around.
Then I woke up and realized that the whole thing was REALLY just a dream. Phew! Or else it wouldv'e turned out to be a real live nightmare.

one sticky day in august

Dear Diary.It has been a hot couple of weeks. I'm sitting here, feeling like a moist cucumber. I know, disgusting comparison, but that's really how I feel. Nice, innit?
There's a bug at the StudentWeb at UiO that I suffered, but hopefully they are fixing it now. At least they should be, considering I reported the damn thing.
In less than 2 hours I'll be sitting at work, bored and sweaty. What a nice thought. Almost makes me smile... The heat is making me delirious. Cheers!

you can fix it yourself

Dear Diary.
I feel so satisfied with my choice of study at UiO. I'll be starting on Italian Litterature next week and I can say that that's the single thing I've been looking the most forward to do since Disney. Except, of course, moving out of this country. But that'll come later. That is a promise I've made to myself.
I enjoyed a "welcome-lecture" today and it kinda tipped me over the border of pondering whether or not this is something I am interested in. To the "yes"-side, fortunately. I have never looked so much forward to studying in my entire life. Now I see it as necessary relief from a busy schedual of working and smiling, working and smiling.
Other than studies, my life is, as usual, a drag. But hoping for improvement.

everything is everything

Dear Diary.
Things are gonna change. And not for better.
But change is important. Even though I might not like it, it is still change, and change makes the world go round. I can't stand this place anymore. This country. Yet I'm staying here for a while. At least another year. I wish that people would stop being so angry, negative and pessimist. Yet I feel it coming on when I live here. Every slight detail annoys me. But I don't explode. I sit back and let it gnaw away at my mind. That's the way it always has been.
I feel I've lost a friend. For that, I've cried. But it was somebody's choice and for that I will not forgive. I will not forget. When my advice is only taken when it is convenient to that person, I understand that it does not matter to them. Then I realize I don't really matter to them, at least not compared to others unmentioned. It is devastating to me, but it is real.

i wish you'd never met him

I,
We used to sit and talk about this for hours on end. Now you suddenly don't care about what I have to say. I have only tried to help you and I've only been myself through it all. I'm sorry you can't accept that, so go fuck yourself.
F,
Geez, I'm so sorry I didn't stop right there and talk for half an hour, I was already late for work because of the fucking subway. Are we that good friends anyway? Plus, I never wrote anything on your website, so fuck you too.
Now I feel you guys deserve each other. You're so special anyway, both of you, right? Not shallow, stupid, childish and backtalking like me.
Appreciate life. Because it is truly a gift. That goes for both of you.

weaving and weaving

Dear Diary.
Today I downloaded and played a game called Loom. I remembered it from when I was little and fortunately found it. I love the mood of that game. The plot, the surroundings, everything, is so timeless and enchanting. Then again, I kinda have a thing for those old games, as an example, KQ6 is another favorite of mine. But Loom... is thrilling. I'm just sad there haven't been made sequels to it. Yes, this is what I do when I'm under the weather. Reliving those freaky old memories. But I'm tired. G'night.

baby i got your money, don't you worry

Dear Diary.
I hate being sick. It makes me think too much. And when I do that, I get upset. I cry. Well... at least almost. There's nothing to see on TV. I just realized that yesterday. At least there's CSI today. I love CSI. You see, for some reason I'm not in the mood to read books. I love and adore books. But I'm certainly not in the mood for them. I don't know why? Why?
I think I'm growing. I hope I'm growing. On the inside, of course. It certainly feels that way in the way that I get tired of everything. Everything that used to amuse me. I'm not looking forward to anything, which is sad, as I feel a person always has to have something to look forward to, in order to stay sane.
In other words I feel loca and depressed. And I'm not earning any money either, being sick. Enough with the complaining. I'm actually a fortunate person, am I not?

Sometimes I run, sometimes I'm scared

Dear Diary.Now I'm scared. Of the future. If I could turn back time and stay in Florida forever, that's what I would do. Because my life there was better than anything else I've ever experienced. Sometimes I want to be a child. I don't want responsibilities and I certainly don't want to grow old and die. OK, maybe I want to stay 21 forever. Some responsibilities are good. They come with benefits. I like benefits. Who doesn't?
I've come to think of my current existence. It's so lonely. Very few friends are around me at the time and the ones that are are either too busy, too broke or they just don't want to spend time with me. At least that's the way it feels. There'll be no vacations for me this year. That's allright, I don't really care about vacations any more. All I care about is my ordinary life.
Could someone please get me a job in Italy, before I go crazy in this land of cold psychopaths?