""Well, that's fucked up" might be too kind"

I've taken a week off writing anything here, because I couldn't a) get myself to write about what happened, or b) get myself to write about happy fun things while the entire country was in shock and mourning. I think we're now only mourning... I'll let other people speak for me:

Excellent text by Øystein Runde, written last Saturday.

Incredibly moving by Prableen Kaur (Norwegian version) (English version), who was on the island when it happened, and managed to get away.


This week has made me so proud of my country, our politics, our PM, even our royals - who came to the hotel near Utøya on Saturday to talk to the survivors.

So many thoughts on this. Some newspapers/media (mostly international) have tried starting the debate about national security, the police force, and other issues, that I am sure we can discuss in great length in due time. It's not what we need right now though. What we need is to share stories about how all youth parties in Norway have seen an increase in their membership numbers. About the incredibly strong youths who survived the attack, and the girl I heard talking about her experiences there, as I was sat on a bus here in Tromsø, 6 days after the event, without her voice faltering. About how every official statement encourages us to join any clubs, parties or organisations, and express our views, no matter how far left or right they might be. How there is a constant emphasis that right wing extremists should still have as much right of speech as any other persons.

We need the emphasis on everything that is good, everything we've done right in this crisis, and then later we can review what could have been done better.

No, I can't

I'm actually speechless. I woke up to the message that there were about 80 people killed at Utøya, not ten, which was the number they gave last night.

I think, if it had "only" been the bomb in Oslo going off, we would have been much less shocked. Because we know that extremists can think explosions will help their cause, and this has happened in many large cities. What throws us (me, at least) is that the man (apparently) who placed the bomb in Oslo, then went to a youth camp and shot randomly at hundreds of teenagers. I don't approve of either happening as means to a cause, but I can easier understand the thought process behind the Oslo bombing. A youth camp? We're probably talking down to 13-year-olds. No.

Condolences to everyone who has lost someone. I can't find more words. I don't understand this.

Faen.

More about this tomorrow. I can't stop thinking about it.

Work and work

And house viewings and sleep and work and food and more house viewings and now sleep and then work and then WEEKEND and then time to do stuff and maybe unpack my photography books/workbooks from England, still in their suitcases...

A. S. Byatt - The Children's Book

 I started it at the beach.

 And finished it... Oh, I don't know. Inside.

Here's one of my old Falmouth photos to illustrate England.

Norwegians: don't bother reading this book.

English (normal English speaking people): go ahead, if you want.

English and Creative Writing/History/Media or any other kind of English degree: this is written for you.

It is a book set in the years between 1895 and 1919, which means it spans many important events, including but not limited to: Queen Victoria's death, The Boer War, The First World War... I found it interesting since the classics I read tend to be either 1800-1850 or mid-20th century. This is a modern book set a hundred years ago, and I found that I did not really know anything about that time in England.

The author is so clearly writing for an academic audience, it almost pisses me off. She only gets away with it because I've gone to uni in England, so I get some of the injokes and references, but I am equally aware of the references I miss completely. I can tell that they are there, but they mean nothing to me. Here is one I did pick up, as an example: The family in the story goes to see a puppet theatre show of E.T.A. Hoffmann's The Sandman. When discussing the play later, one of the boys talks about it being uncanny, and there is a lot of talk about automatons, etc. This was about twenty years before Freud's essay about The Uncanny, where he discusses The Sandman in detail...

There is so much you Creative Writing graduates would get that I don't. It was still an entertaining read though, mostly. The book has a mass of characters, and I spent the first hundred pages leafing back to see who belonged to whom and whether they might be related in some way. The middle of the book enthralled me, and I could hardly put the book down. The darker, seedier parts were particularly interesting... Then the author went, ooh, war, let's send all the boys there and see who survives, and that will be the exciting moments at the end of the book. Snooze.

Anyway, just thought you might enjoy it (if for no other reason, to snigger at knowing all the references to literature and history).

Today, I've been looking for apartments. Wish me luck!

Family and stuff

 Thursday night had Anna and Dina coming down for the weekend. Anna tries to look... serious?

 And Anna tries to use my camera.

 Saturday = work... Fun times. These are the Norwegian Mail cars, not so different to Royal Mail, I think. Very exciting.

 Family party: I was juggling a plate with cakes and cupcakes on my lap, whilst drinking Solo (almost Fanta, only different) from my left hand and Cava (almost champagne, just not from Champagne) from my right hand. Happy days.

My mum who claims she never looks good in photos. Actually, most of the time she is right...

Saturday was driving my usual route plus an extension, since there is less post in the weekends. It was also my last day with my mentor Rita, so Monday will be scary. I will be driving alone and have to juggle normal post, small letters, and adverts, at the same time as I am trying to remember the route correctly. Oh well.

After work I went straight to my aunt's house for a family celebration of her 60th birthday. I love our family gatherings, I have ten cousins on my dad's side, plenty of aunts and uncles, and plenty of cousin's children (I still haven't figured out the English system of first and second cousins, etc.), and it is always just lots of people sitting around eating cake and drinking coffee and watching the children and trying to catch up with what everyone is doing.

I never had dinner yesterday, I only had one bread roll with cheese, and then cake, cupcakes, and more cake.

I then went to Ingrid and asked for painkillers before we went to the cinema, whereupon she brought me a plastic bag full of white tablets with the letter "E" on them. Apparently they were some kind of caffeine painkillers. I trusted her, and it seems to have gone all right...

Harry Potter! Go see it, if only to properly finish the septualogy (?). I've enjoyed the Half Blood Prince, and Deathly Hallows 1 and 2, more than any of the others. Maybe it has just been a while since I read the books, so I don't really know or care if they have changed something. Maybe I just like David Yates' style of doing things, the cinematography is so beautiful... Although I didn't enjoy OotP, which he also made. Anyway. He actually did the best he could with the awfully twee book ending. And tied in some jokes from the first few films. And Rupert Grint and Emma Watson have actual chemistry here. So, I guess: If you're a massive fan, you'll love it, if you're a massive critic, you will criticise it, if you've become a pretty average critical fan like me, you'll think it's all right.

I need to read the books again, but at the moment I am quite happy to be finished with Harry Potter for a while. Someone said though (I hope this is true) that the first and the last spell to be used in the whole series is Reparo. Can anyone confirm this?

Dina is fierce

My niece, attacking the blueberry yoghurt

I love my sister and her fiancé for their child rearing tactics (also because I like them, and she's my sister and all, but in addition to that). Dina can wear pink, if someone else buys it for her. Her mother buys blue, purple, red, grey clothes for her, and her shoes have Lightning McQueen on them. When I met Dina yesterday for the first time since Easter, her mother said: Dina? How strong are you? Whereupon this little lady held out her arms, flexed her guns and went: uunnngh! Which is just amazing. She plays with dolls and tractors, and makes excited squeals of glee when she is allowed to go outside and play with some rocks.

I know you can't turn someone's personality. But you can shape the way they look at life; not as a princess who must be comforted at every fall, not as some brittle little thing that must stay inside and play safely and wear pretty clothes always. Dina might become a pink-wearing, giggly blonde when she is older. But she'll be a clever and strong one who likes hiking and motors and cars and can manage her own life.

Happy days.

Tomorrow I start as late as 6:30. This means I can sleep for half an hour longer, until 5:15! I am jumping with joy. Jumping in to bed. So happy there is no mail on Sundays, as happy as Uncle Vernon. HP tomorrow night, by the way.

What I have learnt and experienced recently

1. There is a Bichon Frise magazine in Norway. It comes out four times a year and two people in the small area I distribute post in subscribe to it.
2. Two of my friends met Nick Cave the other day. Yes, they did. This festival where I used to volunteer (but can't/won't this year) has got the most random line up ever, including Nick Cave (with Grinderman, not the Bad Seeds) (and yes, this year you would enjoy this festival, Emma Preuss) and Biffy Clyro. And so many random bands where I have seen half of them before, and not heard of the other half. I decided not to go this year because I'd either have to pay almost 200 pounds to get in or volunteer two out of three days, when the only artist I'd be really interested in seeing was Nick Cave. Also working 6-2 every day now makes me a tired, grumpy kind of person. At the moment it feels like everyone else I know is going though, and they're having fun, and I'm getting even more grumpy. Oh well. Point is. My friends met Nick Cave. Awesometimes. I am two handshakes away.
3. The good thing about Tromsø is that the weather is more dependable than Falmouth, and usually stays the same for a few days, or even a week. The bad thing about this is that when it rains, it rains. Today it rained continually as I was out delivering post.
4. Dina, my lovely niece, can almost say tante, which is aunt in Norwegian (and French and German, I think).
5. I don't know much about Edwardian England. I'll tell you about the book I have been reading when I am finished.
6. This news story is the best this week (because all the horrible/sad/serious stuff is just interesting and important to know about but not best): Chinese man walks 500 miles for his girlfriend (and 500 more)

Could complain

I have yet to find a permanent job, I have yet to find somewhere to live that is not with my parents and not ridiculously expensive, I have no clue what I am doing with my life past the next month (work in the Norwegian Mail). But I know I am just at the same stage as most of the people I know who have recently graduated from university.

And: I have a summer job, which will give me some money to possibly move out, and definitely to live. I have lots of friends here to do fun stuff with, especially now, but also after summer. I have a clue about what I want to do with my life after this year, or at least a few ideas about what I can do, and would love to do, I just have to wait a while for it to happen.

Sooo, yeah. Bedtime. Haha.

Saturday evening

 After swimming, showering, and eating all the carbs imaginable, I put on this dress and nail polish.

 In town there was all this pretty pollen stuff flying about in the sunshine, happy I'm not allergic.

 

 Then birthday party for Cathrine, here: Viktoria enjoying some beer and fresh air in the sweltering heat.

 Miss Birthday Girl herself.

Drinks, drinks, drinks, then town, then home at 4 am, then up today at 930 am. Fun fun fun.

We talked with people we knew from old, we talked with people we've met once or twice before, and we talked to perfect strangers for a while, in the late night, when we started playing a random miming game.

Today I had to be up early so I could go to bed early tonight, for early postal service start tomorrow. Gah. Decided to have a very chilled out day today so I am ready for my fun week ahead.

I've managed to read a lot of my book, and I've watched a few films. Flashdance (which I continually confuse with Footloose, no clue why) was a lot better than I expected. I loved the female character, she is so strong and continually stubborn to manage everything by herself. 

Also watched Gymnaslærer Pedersen, or Comrade Pedersen which is the English title (gymnaslærer means school teacher, but oh well, they've made the subject of the film more obvious). Heard so much about it, and most of the time I really enjoyed it, except for a few silly scenes, and the ending, which was just random. 

It is about (school teacher Pedersen who joins) the communist movement in Norway and how they idealised China and Russia, and how it kind of just fell apart after a while. Not sure exactly how accurate it is, but entertaining enough. Emma will be amused by this: In Norway the age limit is 11 (younger children can see it if they're with an adult as well). I am not sure how many sex scenes there were, but there were plenty...Wikipedia says: "The Norwegian Media Authority have a somewhat greater tolerance for bad language and suggestive content than certain other countries". I think so, yes.

In which I prove I am a viking

Well, not prove, really. I tell you I am and you believe me.

On my way home on the bus today, I saw there were loads of people on our local beach, and the sun was shining and the weather was amazing and even the wind was warm (this never happens). So I went home, changed into my swimming costume, shorts and a top, and bicycled over to the beach. And went into the sea. I was trying to remember the last time I was in the sea in Tromsø or Norway, and I am pretty sure the last time in Tromsø was five years ago when my friend from Nesodden (near Oslo, i.e., south) came visiting and she had to be able to say she'd been swimming north of the Arctic Circle.

Believe me when I said it was cold... Although not as bad as I'd expected. And now I have done it and proven I am a viking, even though I have no photos of the actual event, only my sandcovered legs/feet after. This feels great.

Early morning and early night

 This is me not really being able to focus at 6 o'clock in the morning, waiting for my bus. 

After less than five hours of sleep, hooray.

Haha, this is me coming back home at 730 pm and photographing some random stuff which turned out to be our letter box, which turns out to be exactly what I'll be talking about! If you zoom in, you can find my name and address. Except for the postcode and town.

So. I have a job. Which is definitely a good thing. As a post-lady, which I believe was Fess's contribution to the whole "mail man (no, sexist), mail woman (read it out loud and you see why), post woman (I shall start a new feminism)" - issue. In Norwegian, luckily, there is the gender neutral "postbud" which kind of means post messenger or post bringer, which I kind of am.

I am supposed to be there at 6 am, but until my Dad brings the car home from Denmark (yes, he is driving, yes he is mad, but it sounds like fun, almost), the earliest possible time I can be there is 7. Which they can deal with, which probably shows how much they need summer post drivers. So when I was waiting for my bus this morning, at 0605, I was already late.

So, looking forward to this next month? Kind of. Not looking forward to going to bed at 9 and getting up even earlier than I did today. Very much looking forward to getting to know the people I work with, and have a job that lets me drive a car for at least 3 hours a day. Also looking forward to having some money, and maybe be able to live on my own.

Even though it is Saturday tomorrow, and I have the weekend off, I can't turn my sleeping pattern too far away from the 9-to-5 (as in that is when I sleep. I work 6-130), and I am feeling properly knackered, so here I am, getting ready for bed at 10 on a Friday night. Oh joy.

In which you look at a photo of a post-lady

And a tired one at that. Do you recognise her?

More details to come.

Edit: today also happens to be my "nameday" which is something you don't really do in England... It is the Feast Day of St. Sunniva (which is only really celebrated in the West Country of Norway, but whatever. This is my day!)

Today I did stuff

Like meeting this most amazing person at VT, which has become our local. 
(Photo from last summer, I completely forgot to photograph her)

VT is short for Verdensteatret, "The World Theatre" which is the name of the first cinema in Tromsø, which now functions as both a café/bar (happy days) and, weekly, as a cinema for the film club. It's a bit like the Poly in Falmouth, only different. Photos someday. Freya and Emma: It's the record playing place we went to (where strange middle-aged men appear on Thursday nights to dance with young English girls).

Tomorrow, I'll write something longer.

In which I try to make things look pretty and sometimes succeed.

A stack of books that I've dug out from the loft and decided to read, because I have all the time in the world. I stacked them on the windowsill so they could look pretty...

 Then they fell down behind the sofa, because I had stacked them so inexpertly.

 And I decided to take this photo and say: 11 pm! I am absolutely loving this. The best feeling in the world is knowing that you are alive under the midnight sun, and that you will go to bed and get up again and it will be there all the time.

 Borrowed some films at the library today, since again, I have all the time in the world.

Our family's cat, Goliat (or Goliath, because I am so bilingual) finally came in today.

Went to the dentist today. Got my tooth fixed, then she went: oh, that'll be 130 pounds (equivalent). Will you pay by card? And I just laughed and had to ask for an invoice. Oh well.

I forget, when I am away from home, how clever cats are. Ours is a mischievous old alley cat (not kidding, we adopted him through the animal trust, they found him in town) and he knows perfectly well where he stands with me. He hasn't been home at all this past week, even though I have had the doors wide open at both sides of the house pretty much all day long (large windows, sunshine, greenhouse effect (although not the environmental one)). I think I heard him outside this morning at about 5 am, and I just refused to get out of bed (don't look so shocked, Jemma, he can handle it). So he came in, all needy and cuddly, tonight, and it was really lovely for a while. Then I caught him on the kitchen counter, drinking water from my mug, and I went up to him and said FY! (Norweg speak for bad! Although it's really more of an exclamation than a description of what you are), he jumped off the counter and ran to the door, knowing that if he didn't, I would throw him out myself. I then let him out and locked the door, whereupon he started miaowing like a dying baby the way cats do. Manipulative tomcat, you. I haven't let him in yet... He needs to be reminded what not to do.

Haha, I just reread that bit, and I sound quite harsh. Oh well. He could have come back sooner if he wanted, and he will be back tomorrow. Our property is full of nice fat mice and birds to eat, anyway.

I just wish someone would eat the seagulls... Discovered there's a pair with a nest quite close to our house. And their eggs are hatching around now, so all they do is fly in circles and cry. Good thing I am going to town tomorrow, or I might just go mad.

Jane Eyre (2011) (SPOILERS AHOY) (Seriously. In the first sentence.)

The proposal scene. Dudes. Yes. I love Jane in this. I love Rochester less, but he shines elsewhere.

I watched Jane Eyre last night, and all I could think throughout the film was "ooh, this relates to the book there, and they did this scene different from the Dalton version, but this scene quite close, and actually I thought the Stephens one was better done". While my friend and her mum had not read the book or had not read it recently, and were quite surprised (but also happy) with the film. For everyone's handy reference: I refer to the versions after who plays Rochester in them, since that is what most people seem to remember (although the Stephens' version of Jane was the best I've seen).

Timothy Dalton (also known as James Bond/Mr Skinner) - 1983 mini series

Toby Stephens (Maggie Smith's son) - 2006 mini series

Michael Fassbender (going to be Carl Jung against Viggo Mortensen's Freud, can't wait) - 2011 film

(It is unfair on the filmmakers to call the versions, as I will, Dalton, Stephens and Fassbender, but this is mainly for my friends and me, and this is how we will keep track on which is which).

The film is clearly made for those who have not read the book, which I think has led to it being more fast paced and easy to watch, which is a good thing. Now, I know this is a film and the other two are mini series, but I'm going to compare them anyway. I am well aware this is unfair, also to the 20-odd versions I have not seen.

The Dalton version is by far the most dreary, slow, overly theatrical version I have seen... But Timothy Dalton had me (and the other girls in the room) wanting to be Jane after about two minutes on screen. And, as Jemma says, he has the voice. Toby Stephens overdoes it a bit, I think, drawing his drawl and husky voice to the extreme at points. Yet he is the most convincing Mr Rochester by comparison with the book: 'I traced the general points of middle height and considerable breadth of chest. He had a dark face, with stern features and a heavy brow' (Brontë, Charlotte: Jane Eyre, 2003:167, London: CRW Publishing Ltd). Shame we seem to want a more handsome Rochester... Like Michael Fassbender. Those eyes... Especially in the Jane, you cannot leave me-scene. Oh.

The Janes are all right, both Dalton & Fassbender versions slightly too pretty for the book's Jane (I found a page, probably because I wanted to find it, saying the expression "Plain Jane" might come from this book). So, the Stephens version is most accurate when it comes to appearance, until Blanche Ingram appears as a ditzy blonde. No. And Adele is way over the top as well. I would love it if one version could just get it all right, or almost right. I think Fassbender is closest to that happening.

Key scenes: (there might be other important scenes but these are the ones they need to get right)

1. Lowood

2. First/second meeting

3. After the fire in the bedroom

4. Gypsy woman

5. Jane, haha, I was kidding about Blanche, sunset + thunder

6. Jane, you cannot leave me
7. Rivers family/OMG, we're related
8. End scene

1. Lowood is strangely short in all of them, as far as I can remember. It is actually quite a few pages in the book... I can't remember much of the others, but I think they were quite similar to the Fassbender version: Jane comes in, they take her fine clothes and give her coarse ones, she learns that it is harsh there, she has to stand in front of everyone for a day without food, she becomes friends with Helen Burns, who then dies (if you're still reading and can't handle spoilers, then seriously, stop), suddenly she grows up and leaves Lowood. It all takes about five minutes. In Fassbender though, they opened the film with her leaving Thornfield and running over the moor, crying, so the whole film is seen as a flashback (or several, long flashbacks) from the Rivers' house. Beats Thompson, where they start with young Jane walking around in a desert. Fairly confusing, especially when she is played by Lucy from Narnia.

2. Dalton wins on first/second meeting. As ridiculous as it is, you get the feeling that Mr Rochester should, and would, rest on a chaise longue with his sprained ankle, looking as arrogant as he should be. The others I can hardly remember. Only Fassbender jumping on to his horse very easily for someone with a sprained ankle. And Stephens weighing down Jane Eyre when she helps him over to his horse, so you would expect her to crumble together.

3. After the fire in the bedroom, also known as the hot scene... I just rewatched the others on Youtube, and I was surprised at how little chemistry there was betweeen Tim Dalton and Zelah Clarke. Not just the fact that the other versions were much closer to kissing (none do, which is good), and they stood closer to each other, but the others seemed more intense in some way, they ways they looked at each other, they ways both Janes tried to move backwards but couldn't for a while. Fassbender is also a very beautifully made version. And Fassbender himself is very, very attractive in this scene... That is personal opinion, but so is everything else here.

4. Gypsy woman: In Dalton, as weirdly done as it is in the book, where a grown up man fools a clever girl to think he is an old crone. I am all for following a book when you are making an adaption, but it is after all an adaption. Where you are supposed to adapt the source to your medium. It is difficult enough to believe in the book, but trying to show it just makes it ridiculous. Stephens hides behind a wall, and lets a real gypsy woman take his place, so he can control what she says, and it is a lot more believable. In Fassbender, it is not there at all. They have been clever enough to see it does not really have any impact on the story, and deleted it completely. I prefer this.

5. Jane, haha, I was kidding about Blanche: It is you I love. Do you not believe me? No, why would she, after the way he has treated her? Anyway. These scenes are all so similar, because they are all fairly close to the book. It has to be at sunset, then they kiss, then whoops, the weather is changing, we must run inside in the rain so Mrs Fairfax can see us. Well, that is how Miss Brontë wrote it. And I love all the Janes' acting in these scenes. Well, actually, not so much Zelah Clarke's. I think she tends to overact in general, and I think she finds it difficult to act in love with Timothy Dalton (I can't see why, he looks very good here, especially with his hair implants recently done). Anyway, melt.

6. Jane, you cannot leave me. I absolutely love the Fassbender version of this. He is crying (in a manly way) and tries to convince her that he has been good to his mad wife, that no one will care if she stays, unmarried but in a relationship with him, and he looks so devastated, because he knows she will leave. Stephens is just way way too sexual. I really don't think Jane's character would let it go that far (without going that far of course). In Dalton, there is so much hair stroking and running up and down stairs that it takes away the intensity of the moment. The book contains a long conversation, well, several long monologues from Mr Rochester, about his wife and the backstory, and how he fell in love with Jane, but there is actually no kissing, even though he tries.

7. This is just the long wait for her to get back to Mr Rochester. I only brought it up because, in the book/other adaptions, the fact that they are related is very important to Jane, as she has never had family before, and she does not care about the money. Yet it is such a random coincidence; the one house she stumbled over at the moor happens to be filled with cousins she never knew. In Fassbender, they do not mention them being actual relations, so when she gets the money, she just says; I owe you all for my help, and I would love it if we could all be brothers and sisters, we will share it equally and I will gain a family. And that is that.

8. End scene: I remember feeling warm and fuzzy and in need of Mr Rochester when we finished watching the Dalton version. As I remember it, they did the end quite well, where she comes back and pretends to be a servant, until he recognises her voice, love, happiness, etc. The Stephens ending is just annoying after they have done most of the series so well. They gather the entire Rivers family + themselves + some random children to be painted a family portrait of, since in the beginning Jane is left out of the Reed family portrait... And that is how it ends. Really? The Fassbender ending is just too short, too quick, too easy (I'm guessing they cut it down to get the film under 120 mins).

So, there we go. That was probably interesting for the... three other people I know who are interested in Jane Eyre (and the different adaptions). But I needed to write it out, since it was all I could think of while I was watching this most recent one.

I seem to have a thing for collecting versions of stories. I have done this with Pride & Prejudice, Robin Hood, Phantom of the Opera, and now Jane Eyre. Read the books, seen several adaptions (films, series, plays, musicals) and geeked out about it with other people. Lord of the Rings & Harry Potter do not count, because I have only read the books and seen the films, really, which I have done with plenty others.

I'm allowed to be romantic now while I still have the sunlight and summertime

 Monday morning I went to an interview that went well, but I'm waiting for another interview or two before I take a job... Then I went home and went to the beach! Bare-legged in my sundress and thick cardi and thick scarf.

 Just started reading this book Dominique gave me the day I left. It's starts in 1895, and I suspect it will continue to the first war, but I am still only at the beginning.

 Sometimes it is interesting, historical and fantasylike, other times it tries to be those things, and fails. I am enjoying it, though.

Picked some flowers on my way home and felt like I was back in the summers of my childhood, when 16 degrees was a really hot day.

I have been busy(ish), I'm just photographing the nice moments. Not the less-than-adequate sleep, not waiting for the interview, not the headache I developed from sitting in the sun reading for an hour, nor the cracking of my tooth as I chewed on a Fisherman's Friend after leaving the cinema in the evening... For which I am going to my dentist tomorrow. Fun times.

I also did fun things like seeing my friend Ingrid and having tea with her (and I mean tea, not the meal 'tea'), and meeting up with my other friend Ingrid and her mum and watching Jane Eyre at the cinema.

Today I have wandered around my parents' house feeling sorry for myself (re:tooth, sore throat, etc), drinking way too much tea, rosehip extract and blackcurrant toddy, read more in my book, slept in my jammies on the veranda... And picked up the mail. Very busy day. Oh, and I watched Hot Fuzz.

Listening to Jakob Dylan whilst drinking blackcurrant toddy

 I have become a photographer for cheesy lifestyle magazines. In my mind. But this is my parents' veranda at 6 pm on a summer's day, not bad.

 Granted, I was sat there in my woolly socks (not my thickest though) and my hoodie, but it was warm and nice and sunny and happiness occurred.

 These are Norwegian fish cakes by the way... Nothing like yours. They're not usually star shaped though, apparently my dad has bought some especially "for children", I'm not sure who these children are...

Random landscape photo (get used to this, my dears, there is not much else to photograph around my parents' house).

Today I went cycling for the first time since Easter, and it felt amazing. Especially when I came back and I was all "yeah! I'm getting back in shape" even though I only cycled about 10 miles. It's a start anyway. The last month in Falmouth was ridiculously filled with chocolate and alcohol and sweets and crisps and eating out and eating takeaway, and not enough excercise at all. 

Hopefully this month will counteract that, with less drinking (I'll probably end up with once a week, which normal people will find quite enough, and students will find ridiculously little) and more excercise: At least one bike trip a week, one swimming session a week, and hopefully some hiking once a week as well. Not for the sake of losing weight but for the sake of feeling better, healthier and stronger, which I really miss.

So yeah... This summer will probably just be me moaning about living at home, trying to find somewhere else to live, trying to stay in shape and trying to get a job. But hey, it might be accompanied by some pretty photos.

Also, Jakob Dylan is quite soothing to listen to. Try it.

Oi, English people! My first completely English post (I think)

 Celebrating my first English language post + my new post editor thingy with photos of people I will miss, but hope read this blog: first: Chris and Emma.

 Another Emma (Attwell) taken at her 1920s party just before I left.

 My dear Kay(ung Lai)

 My fellow Norwegian, Maja.

And Edgar, who gives some of the best hugs I have experienced.

Of course these are not the only people I will miss, and this is not ranked in any way (as you can clearly see by the lack of Dominique), these were just the people I had the most recent, good photos of. I will miss everyone... And I expect letters and postcards and things. I always reply!

Siste dager i Falmouth

Pappa mens vi venter, Tora og jeg hadde avtalt foreldredate der vi tok med oss foreldrene våre (Tora er fra Lofoten) på pub. Det var fint.

Min siste dag i Falmouth...

...var en veldig fin dag med sol og masse fine mennesker og nammismat.

Nam nam Cornish Cream Tea. Som er scones og te servert med syltetøy og clotted cream.

Blomster til Freyas foreldre, som har vært så utrolig snille og hjelpsomme mot oss de siste to årene.

Ja, så dett var dett. Ferdig nå... Regner med at jeg blir å dra tilbake på ferie nå og da.
Men som sagt, så startet jeg jo denne bloggen fordi jeg skulle flytte til England, og nå bor jeg ikke der lenger... Så fra og med idag skifter bloggen navn, og jeg sletter maillista mi og endrer språk til engelsk. Takk for meg! (Dere kan godt fortsette å lese altså, men nå skriver jeg for det meste for et engelsk publikum).

London, del 2, pluss Falmouth

Se så masse folk vi hadde på utstillinga vår! Det kjentes utrolig bra ut.

Josie fikk blomster, jeg tror det var fra familien, veldig koselig iallfall. Hennes bilder i bakgrunnen.

Pappa dro på besøk til Parliament i London, og der fikk de besøkskort som fikk meg til å tenke på fengsler...

Tilbake i Falmouth: på søndagen gikk jeg og mamma tur til Maenporth i tåkeværet. Her ligger kystvakten og passer på at ingen båter kommer nærmere kysten.

Mamma i godt humør. Hun elsker å bli tatt bilde av, akkurat som mormor.

Tro det eller ei, men seinere på dagen, i 2-3tida, ble det knallvær, og jeg satt ute i hagen hele ettermiddagen (3 timer) og ble helt utrolig solbrent. Bra da at jeg hadde på meg bikinitopp under en kjole med halterneck-feste, så jeg har fire fine linjer langs halsen.

London, del 1

Vi kom, vi bar planker og mdf-plater ned i utstillingslokalet, så fikk vi tre timer fri. Emily, Maja, Tora og jeg gikk på vintage-butikker og kafeer og spilte kort og domino.

Male male, hele dagen, vi var egentlig alt for mange folk, så det ble bare kaos.

Antonia er flink, og søt.

Alt ble ferdigmalt iløpet av torsdagsmorran (starta på onsdag), og her er jeg fremfor mine bilder på kvelden.

Mamma og pappa fant tilslutt veien ned til vår utstilling, siden det var 10 andre i samme bygning og vi hadde plassering helt nederst i kjelleren.

Utrolig slitsomme to uker, først med å få opp utstillinga i Falmouth, så utstillinga i London... Men nå er alt ferdig, og jeg klarte tilogmed å pakke bildene mine ned i kofferten og sende dem helt til Tromsø uten at noe knuste.