My head in the clouds, the clouds in my head.

I have to take the yellow fever vaccine. I do not do vaccinations, at least not very well. I tend to faint, but not until a couple of minutes after, so that's twice in the hallway and once in front of the secretary's desk in the doctors office.

And that was just blood samples.

This is a full on, hardcore thou-shalt-not-die-by-the-"hand"-of-a bad-piece-of-fruit needle. Sorry about that, that was really annoying to read, wasn't it? I am terrified though, but not for the reasons one might think.
I am so poor, there's probably five year olds out there who could make me jealous waving their weekly allowance in my face.

So, naturally I'm going to Africa.. Because that is not expensive at all, nooo.
Malaria pills, i have to take malaria pills, because apparently the mosquito's are really taking over Banjul right now.
And my mom told me that her doctor told her that if you take the strong, most effective ones (pills, not mosquito's) you might end up feeling severely depressed or very aggressive.
And once again all i can think about is how bloody expensive it's going to be.

And also, i hate having to make important phone calls and walk out the door to complete useful and very necessary tasks.
So here i am, blogging, when i should really focus on scheming my way into more money instead.

Santa Lucia this was a very boring entry, i do apologize and promise that the next time i blog it will be about something useful, nice and intellectually challenging.

No, really.

And also, the garden gnome heist must be completed soon, and it hasn't even begun yet! I am still trying to think of a way to walk unnoticed through the entire pub with a one foot tall, very heavy statue under my jacket.
Not very easy when the average number of customers are three men, all of them staaaring at you aaall the time.

Will have to work on that plan.

Dying to feel alive.

Today i shall write about three things, all of them hopelessly unimportant.

First of all:
Sticky sweets. I quite like them because you don't have to hold on to them, they will hold on to you, and there is no demand of sharing them either since most people will assume that you have already licked them.
I also like the fact that long after they are gone you can still savour the sweet taste of rhubarb/strawberry/pear by sucking on your fingers. It's simply delightful!

Secondly:
My armpits. They smell of cucumber, it's a new marketing scheme I've come up with. I am nervously awaiting the hoards of guinea pigs (undoubtedly already moving towards my general direction from all over the country) to come and gnaw of my arms all the way to the sockets.
Ten year old girls all over the world will worship me if this works, it will the the ultimate way of attracting a new pet. If this works, this entry might very well also be my last as i have heard that it is hard to blog when you don't have arms.

The last of my late night pondering is this:

The difference between a habit and a tradition. Lets say you like to have a shower every evening. This is a habit. It is a good thing, by all means, but i have somehow always thought of a habit as a bad thing, even when you don't put the word 'bad' in front of it.
If you have one shower every year, lets say around Christmas time, then all of a sudden it is a tradition, and no longer a habit.
When i hear the word 'tradition' it always makes me think of mistletoe and hot cocoa in the snow. Nice things, in fact lovely things (if you ignore the fact that some obscure cults have traditions that includes the brutal slaughter of bright eyed, innocent children. That is not a very nice tradition).

So, my conclusion (at 4am this morning, so bear with me) is that if our belief in words were stronger then actual physical comfort, people would rarely wash. And if people rarely washed they would stink.

Shopping centres all over the world would be deserted, the smell would be too overwhelming. So, to put it simply: I am clearly in need of some therapy, and if people ever start to take this blog literally you will sooner or later find me dead somewhere, mutilated by minging, bankrupt retailers.

Now, if you will excuse me i am going for a shower.

Oh dear, was that your treehouse?

Just a quick update to mention the floor boards. I know this might seem insignificant to you, but to other people (not me) this is in fact a great source of grief, trouble and sleepless nights.

The dog peed on the floor, and, having a scary, abnormally big and smelly, half hellhound/half beast from the early Cretaceous period with a tiny sprinkle of fluffy kitten living in the house, we shouldn't really expect any less now, should we?

But honestly, the wooden floor boards are sort of.. curling up around the edges, like they're trying to get away from something acidic. I so do not want to be the patch of dead or dying grass in our garden, as i can practically hear the silent screams every time our lovely old beast trots out to empty her bladder.

And i swear, i only give her water to drink. She's like a magical beast, something out of the Arthurian legends. Give her water and she will pee 98% pure alcohol for you. On your floor when you are not looking.



You've got to love Molson <3

Oh, and you might have noticed that my blog titles rarely has anything to do with the post itself. That is because the titles are small reminders to me and myself only, about something ongoing but unbloggable in my life.
So, go on and guess, but knowing how my brain works you'll probably never be able to see the logic behind the titles.
If you do i shall be immensely impressed and give you my firstborn as a token of respect, general insanity and a tribute to the brothers Grimm.

So there.

The smiles of young men.

I just found a half empty mug of not-exactly-hot chocolate under my bed. It stopped me in my tracks for a while, simply because i cannot remember the last time i had one of those (hot chocolates, not bed. I've always had a bed except for that one time with the post it note and the kitchen floor).
Then it hit me, the day i tried a healthy alternative to Cadbury creme eggs, nearly three weeks ago. Now you might ask, what kind of pig is this girl? Leaving half empty mugs of non preservable liquid in her room for three weeks without even noticing.
Well, first of all, thank you for asking, and secondly i would just like to say that i am a very creative pig. I'd left one of my oil paintings to dry on top of the mug, and the mug itself was standing on a discarded piece of paper describing the polite Japanese word 'desu' in excruciating detail.

So what if i sometimes have new, exciting and slightly green lifeforms hibernating, waiting for people to accept the inexorable inevitability of evolution, in my bedroom? I still change my socks every day, sometimes i actually change them several times a day, but that's more down to the incontinent dog i live with then extreme hygiene.

Anyhow, i was going to talk about yesterday. Yesterday was Thursday, party night here in the village. In other words, the pub was cramped, we were nearly fifteen people in there altogether! I didn't even know that many people existed in Bulford, lately i have suspected the British Army for building empty houses, hiring a tiny, slightly intelligence challenged theater troupe to play the inhabitants, and then just left them here to breed for a few generations. All this to keep curious, enlightened people away so that the army could continue doing all their secret experiments without being asked annoyingly relevant questions about the abnormal feeling of eerie nothingness that seems to surround this area.

Back to my big night out, i spotted through the coaster filled air (you'd have to be there to understand what i mean) a face. It belonged to a boy and was somehow different from all the other faces. So i naturally assumed that this was the one i had been waiting for all along, this was the person to come and whisk me away from dead end 'suburbia' and show me the world from a different angle.
I was only half wrong. He was different then the others, he was south African and quite well traveled. This is always a good thing, but i shouldn't have gotten my hopes up to early.

'What are you reading?' he said and pointed at the book i had lying on the table in front of me.
'Orwell, Down and out in Paris and London.' He gave me a blank stare before he got a dead proud look on his face.
'I never read, I've only ever read one book in my life.' And that's where the fairytale ended on my part (i blame Disney for my romantic nature). I must admit i am getting quite used to this sentence, an alarmingly big part of the population use it regularly around me. I put them into two categories.

1. The people who only read the one, obligatory book you had to read in school.

2. The people who add, after the dreaded statement of non literate preferences, the words: 'And that is the Holy book, the bible, the only book worth reading etc'. It makes my soul itch.

But there is little one can do about such things, people have to make their own choices.

Which brings me back to my mug of moldy not-hot-chocolate, because it wasn't moldy, not green at all! A bit rough around the edges maybe (looked a little rough, i didn't taste it, i am not THAT curious), but no green stuff.

It's strange how some things just rot and decay when you leave it alone (pets, fruit, babies) whilst other things seem to develop a independent and unique lifestyle without any help or encouragement at all (pets, parents, the occasional wet towel).

It's so random how things and people end up, i find uniqueness very fascinating and quite terrifying at times.

Oh, and i can now play Yann Tiersens 'song title i cannot remember or even find online' on my Melodica. It's nice, i like it!

The cat is fine too.

For once in my life i am trying to do a bit of preparation. I am fully aware of the fact that my upcoming months in Norway will be quite boring, with the sparkling exception of my family and the few friends who still lives reasonably nearby.
So, naturally, i am forming a band with my brother. We had a brainstorming on Skype today, just to pick a name, and being who we are (a part of the Alberts clan) it kind of went out of hand a bit. Here are some of the best ones:

*A Cat Is Fine Too(something that turned out to be a quote from a sick porn comic,we ditched it)

*Laundry lovers (mine)

*A Box Of Fish With Tartar Sauce (Alex's of course)

*A Cat Born In An Oven Isn't A Cake (his again, he likes the long names)

*Albino Toilet People (Alex)

*Made In Norway (then we realized this might not be the truth)

*May Contain Nuts (me)

*Spice Girls (dumped for obvious reasons) (i mean, it's a horrible name)

*Big White Undies (Alex)

*The Dead Babies (me) (sorry)

*The Undead Babies (this somehow sounds better..)

*Blue Weed (Alex)

*Rainbow Kittens (me) (hey, I'm a girl, what can i say)

*Facepalm (Alex)

*The Bestefar Band (the granddad band) (me, i love my granddad)

*Ragnarokk Boogie (me) (my brother didn't even dignify it with an answer)

*Longcat Hallelujah (Alex)

*Box Full Of AIDS (Alex) (and, sorry)

*The Hat Invasion (me, i love hats)

*Basement Dwellers (Alex)

*Made Of Win (Alex)

*The Strongest Daddy (me) (after a quarrel with a friend about the subject)

*Cool Creatures (a name so obvious there isn't any point using it really) (i mean, it's us!)

So yeah, i think that's were we stranded and went on to other things, like this:

http://video.nettavisen.no/video/11525

My sisters audition tape for 'Norway's got talent'. Not top notch quality, but she has a lovely voice and got invited to the next audition round! If she get further then that, vote for her. I will post updates, she is going to Oslo for the next audition on November the 15th.

And i found a lovely scarf today, it was lying in the bushes, all wet and dirty. I picked it up because I'm a very disgusting person, and it turned out to be a very nice scarf, all stripy and grey and purple. I'm going to wash it tomorrow.

Don't patronize me.

Sunday blues and pumpkin sweets.

People ought to look up more, and i mean that in every way possible. Look up things they read and don't understand, look up interesting things they always wanted to learn, but never had the time to. Also, i think people should physically look more up, but maybe not when they walk around. I did that the other day and walked into a lamppost again. It really hurts you know, my cheek's still a bit sore. But the view was beautiful, and that is my whole point. The world is so breathtakingly beautiful right now, and most of the time it feels like i am the only person (around here at least) who can see it. I find that sad and annoying, and a little bit odd.

But that's enough 'deep' thoughts for today.

I bought a new lighter, it has a picture of a clown on it. I got this familiar, tingly feeling when i saw it. It was a nice little market stall with lighters of all shapes and colours, and i got the feeling again. Do you know what feeling i am talking about? No?

Of course you don't, you're not a borderline eccentric, are you?

Well, it's my 'pretty-shiny-simply-must-start-collecting-it' feeling. So now i collect lighters in addition to frogs, which means that if someone gives me a frog lighter i will probably offer to sleep with them or give them all my shoes out of sheer gratitude and giddiness.

Lately i am very emotional, strange things make me tear up, like fabric softener adverts and tiny, tiny baby mittens. It's probably just down to hormones or sugar levels or something.
But i must admit, if there was even the slightest chance in Jotunheimen that i was pregnant, i wouldn't have doubted it for a second, i even crave pumpkin lollipops!

Things are complicated, i don't feel like people appreciate complicated like they used to do. Or did they? Hell i don't know, i'm just rambling on because i'm bored. But i'm not going to write anything private in here though, i can just write stuff that only make sense to me.
I think a lot of people forget that a blog isn't really a diary, but more of a work-in-progress biography and for all of the world to read.

OK, i really need to go now, this is pointless, i am not even funny, just very close to falling asleep with my socks on. And i hate sleeping with my socks on.

Help Adam find his Eve (See, i can be cheesy!)

If you live in Norway you probably haven't heard about this guy:




His name is Adam Pacitti and he is looking for the girl of his dreams. Well, who isnt.. But this is different because Adam had in fact a dream where he saw the girl, and now he is trying to find her. This is a mediocre summary, you can get the whole story here:

http://www.thegirlofmydreams.co.uk



Seriously people, help him, spread the word! He is going to travel the world to look for her, so he might be coming your way. OK, it might sound mad, i agree, but i have spoken with him, and he seems completely sane. Just a devoted romantic, i think it's sweet really^^

So if everyone could just link to his site from their blog it might help!

Oh, and here is a bigger picture of the girl he drew... Not a very good picture one might add, but it shows the basics. Glasses, hair and such. If you know anyone looking like her, or if you look like her then send him an email with a picture and some words about yourself:



Ok, that's about it i think. If you want to help Adam in any way or have a suggestion, just email him, you find all contact info on the site.

Oh, and about my exciting day: Three people walked by outside the window today, and i made tea. Ah, the village life, never a dull moment.

R.

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Just to say that i now have a blog for all my short stories and poems. This far i only have three or four things posted there, but I'll try to get more stuff typed in and posted as soon as i can be bothered to do so.
Go and check it out:

http://www.cartepebus.blogspot.com/

OK, bye then!

Blame it on the Dijon mustard.

Well i just made a sauce that is so hot i can't feel my face and my nose and ears are bleeding.

It's very nice with pasta.

I don't know why or how it ended up that hot, i just put a lot of stuff in it, like almost everything from the fridge except for jam and those easter eggs that nobody wants to eat.
I am easy to please as i will eat everything put in front of me except for broccoli, Marmite and those funny looking easter eggs of course.
But enough about my dietary versatility, lets talk about something interesting!

Like the weather, it is dreary.

I also have some nice pictures to put out here on the interweb today, here is four from The New Inn in Amesbury this weekend:

Ladies and gentlemen, my friend Jake:




My other friend Phoebe:




And my other other friend Ben:




Oh, and here's one of me where it looks like i have a beak instead of lips, but it's just a bad writing habit i have. I suck and bite my lips and end up looking like one of those weird people:



Yes. I also have some costume pictures from Halloween, but i think I'll post them later. Adding pictures is a tedious and time consuming job.

I bought sushi from CoOp the other day and ate it sitting in a doorway while the rain was pouring down one foot away from me. It was like sitting in a little bubble, very nice. But then again, i always find pleasure doing the strangest things (mind out of gutter please).

I have an idea though, i am thinking about creating another blog where i can post all my short stories and poems. I don't know what to call it yet, but you will be able to find it on my blogger profile.
Thing is, i have lots of stuff to put up, but so much of it is handwritten, and since i am fundamentally lazy it might take a while before i get it all typed in.


And lastly, i don't really know how to react on the whole Ross/Brand incident. It was wrong what they did, but why should i have to pay for it? I like Late night with Jonathan Ross, it is a nice show. Ah well, six months isn't that long, and in the end i think it's the BBC who will suffer the most, not Ross.

By the way, i just found out that i love Elliot Minor! I think they're brilliant!


Ps. Edit to add, i noticed the pictures are looking a bit weird. No, I'm not gonna change it because i have no idea how to.

Good day to you sir.