Opting out

 

A couple of days ago I was asked by the editor of the local newspaper in my home town back in Norway to participate as a blogger on their new website due to be launched in a couple of weeks’ time, and I’m absolutely thrilled to say that I agreed to do it. I’m not yet sure exactly what it involves, all I know is that I’ll be sharing the task with 7 other people, each posting once every 8 weeks. Another blog to maintain, excellent. That ought to get my creative juices flowing.

Speaking of, I have a theory that Facebook kills my creativity. Lately I’ve been trying to study for my exams, so naturally I have spent a good 18 hours every day procrastinating on Facebook. And in less than two weeks my exams will be over, so I’ll go back to spending on average 8-10 hours a day on Facebook again. This has got to stop. So today I made an executive decision to deactivate my Facebook account for an uncertain period of time – all I know is that I will not activate it again until after my exams are over. If I’m past the sweaty palms and fevered dreams stage due to my abstinence from Facebook at this point, I will consider extending my absence indefinitely, to see if this will increase my attention to various creative projects I have started but not made any progress on lately.

This desire to be creative (and thus, to do something to make it happen) has been greatly spurred on over the last few days by the drama surrounding the production of The Hobbit, with the latest reports saying that Warner Brothers have decided to move the production offshore. Apparently they want to shoot it in a studio in England, where they shot Harry Potter. I am simply outraged by this development. Ever since I first heard that The Hobbit was going to be made into a film I’ve had mixed feelings about it, because ever since I first read the book, I’ve wanted to be involved in the making of the film version (preferably I would be the one making it). So at first I was against Sir Peter Jackson directing it. Then they announced that Guillermo del Toro would be the director, and I decided that I’d rather have PJ direct to keep things consistent with the mood and feeling of the LotR trilogy. Then GDT dropped out, and the whole thing was stuck in limbo for a while. It hadn’t been greenlit, the studio was bankrupt, there was no director – the problems seemed to be neverending, and the film destined not to be made. Then, just as we heard words of progress, some Australian douchebag union decided to royally fuck things up. There was a boycott of the film, demonstrations, marches, secret meetings, press statements, verbal abuse, anxiety, still no green light – and all of a sudden came the press release from the studios that the film had been greenlit, PJ would direct, and shooting would commence in February 2011. But wait… There was nothing about where it would be shot.

The fight instantly on between a handful of countries all wanting not just a slice of the cake but the whole goddamn thing, The Hobbit seemed set to be pried from the shores of Aotearoa. Tax breaks, cheap labour, no Australian unions – England, Scotland, Canada and several Eastern European countries all put their offers on the table, and Warner Brothers took the bait. According to the newspapers today, representatives are coming down to New Zealand next week to arrange the moving of the production offshore. After all this time, New Zealand is set to lose one of the bound to be biggest franchises of the next decade.

One of the main reasons I decided to study in Wellington was that The Hobbit was supposed to be made in Wellington during my stay here (originally there were reports that shooting would commence in March this year, but we all know that never happened), and now that is no longer the case, and the long-term effects of this move is likely to more or less shut down the smaller film industry in Wellington, I see no future for me here. Maybe I should transfer to London? I hear they make some films over there…

Break on a budget

 

So.

 

I’m on holiday.

 

It’s the semester break. As I’m not doing any courses over summer this means that the first half of my first year as a university student is over. I had my only exam on 15 June, and since then I haven’t been doing much. Unless you count the flat rental company business, but that’s just something I got involved with to avoid dying of boredom. (OK that last bit was a lie, but sometimes I think to myself that considering that it’s me we’re talking about, it might as well have been true.)

Unlike many of my fellow students, I have already had a two-week break, and I know I shouldn’t be complaining at all, thinking about all those poor students who had their exam(s) only yesterday and will only get a two-week break in total. I get four weeks.

When my break started I was really excited about it. Really. I was supposed to be moving to Mt Victoria, spend lots of time outside and explore Wellington and hang out with people. So far I’ve accomplished two out of four things: I’ve been spending a lot of time outside, walking all around Wellington. However, after I’d walked around Central Wellington a couple of times, I realised how bad it was for my wallet, as it is so easy to fall into the trap of buying coffee/lunch/a snack at one of the hundreds of cafès while wandering about. So I decided to approach the idea in a different way. It was time to go back to being a tourist.

The first thing that came to my mind was that I still hadn’t seen the famous location used in The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring where the four hobbits tumble down a hill and land on a forest path. It is conveniently located in the forest on Mt Victoria, so on a rainy and cold day I defiantly put on some warm clothes, packed a minimal lunch and set off. I despise looking like a tourist, but there’s no denying I must have strongly resembled one, when I made my way past Cuba Street and Courtenay Place dressed in wind-proof trousers and jacket, carrying a light backpack .

I eventually found the location in the forest (I think), snapped a few photos and started making my way back. Of course, it had been raining all the time, but as I was halfway home it stopped, and we didn’t get any more rain that day. It makes sense.

After that wee excursion, I have stuck to wandering about the city itself, mainly because I can’t think of any other ‘nature’ tracks around this area. So I’ve walked along the waterfront a couple of times, strutted through Lambton Quay and up and down The Terrace on several occasions, walked down Willis St (pretty much all of it), sat in Courtenay Place looking for Sir Ian McKellen and otherwise explored more or less every side street in the CBD. All the while trying not to be lured into spending all my money on the fantastic winter sale bargains.

Of course, it’s impossible not to buy anything when the shops sell most things for under half price, but after I went completely crazy once or twice, I decided that it was about time I imposed some ‘safety measures’ on my spending to avoid going broke. So what did I do? Well, for starters, I bought a ten-pack of noodles. That’s food for a week. Then I went and bought a pair of shoes. I think I’m pretty good at getting my priorities right.

I also decided that I’m not allowed to spend more than about $10-15 each day, and if I spend more than that in one day, it means that I don’t get to spend anything the next day. This seems to be working fairly well. Because I try not to spend any money, I spend a lot of time checking out various shops and supermarkets to compare prices on things I want and/or need. I’ve recently decided to make vegetable soup/stew a weekly meal (after I’ve killed the ten noodle packs, mind), so I wanted to compare prices of the various ingredients. First I went to New World, then I went to a place I’ve never been to before, which turned out to be an Asian supermarket. When I had walked past the fruit and vegetables that were placed at the front of the shop, it was like entering another world. I don’t think I would have been able to name or even identify a single product beyond the fruit stalls. It was glorious – so many weird things, it was simply amazing. Anyway, the Asian supermarket won – their prices were way lower than New World’s, thankfully. My wallet let out a sigh of relief.

So far I’ve been doing most things by myself. No, wait. Everything. I’ve been waiting for a couple of people to be in touch, and I’ve tried to arrange things with others, but no one seems to be keen, or they are busy. Hmph. But this Sunday I’m going to meet some of the All Whites players with a friend from Dunedin who’s in Wellington for the week. Yay, human contact at last.

Today was a wee cracker of a day in Wellington. Absolutely gorgeous. I spent about three hours walking around the city, and bought a loaf of white bread, European style, and some ham, and then I treated myself to a mochaccino at my favourite cafè in Lambton Quay. When I got home I made a late lunch, and I enjoyed every last crumble of it.

Now I’m just going to let some photos sum up the past week, as this blog entry is getting a wee bit long.

 

Growing Wings

I have now lived in Wellington for more than four months, and needless to say things are only getting better. Which is something you should all be able to tell from my blog, and the fact that I don’t update it nearly as often as I would if things were not that good.

I feel like I’ve managed to settle in nicely, but of course, me being me, that is exactly what makes me want to “break free” again, so my latest idea is to move. To another part of Wellington. The reasons for this decision are many and, let’s say, occasionally on the strange side of the fence (one of the reasons involves a broccoli. Enough said?).

It didn’t take me long to decide where I want to move to. When I first arrived in Wellington I wanted a place close to uni, because I imagined that I would be spending most of my time there, but now I have seen what it’s really like. Mt Victoria is not that close to the university (see picture), but buses run on a daily basis back and forth between Mt Vic and uni, so no worries there. Besides, I’m planning on getting a job soon, and Mt Vic is much closer to the places in the city where I could see myself getting a job, which means that I’ll be able to work in the weekends without having to get my driver’s license and a car first to be able to get to and from work.

I sent a text to a guy this morning, about a room that is available in a 5 bedroom house on Mt Vic, which I really want to get. The rent is the same as I’m paying now, so that would be perfect. I just hope he’ll text me back soon…

It would be so cool to actually live with other students, in a proper house, with two (2!) bathrooms, a back yard with a deck and a bbq… That’s how I imagined living as a student to be like, so please, please, please text me back and say that I can have the room.

Standing ovation

I think I’m finally getting the hang of this. Writing essays, I mean. My English essay on the gothic genre is due in tomorrow, and seeing as it’s not my favourite course (that’s an understatement, by the way), I decided it’d be best to start  writing it early so that I could go back to it and make changes after I’d had some time to re-consider. So I finished a rough draft about a week ago, but I had written heaps more on it before that, the only problem was that I didn’t really know in what direction I was going, so I wrote lots of random things that didn’t make much sense, so when I had completed the draft I had written more than 3,500 words, and the essay itself is only supposed to be 1,500 words… Then the plan was to develop that draft throughout the rest of the week, but it never happened (to my defense; I was concentrating on my media essay which was due in two days ago, and which was way more important to me). So today, after several internal discussions, the good person sitting on my shoulder beat the person sitting on my other shoulder, and I went to the library at 2 pm, only knowing that I had to stay there until the essay was finished. Once I started writing, the words just came flowing to me, and the essay had been completely re-drafted and re-written within the next 3-4 hours, and by the end of that time I was so pleased with it (and had half a dozen epiphanies about the text I was writing about) that I just plotted down my references, saved the document and went home. Seriously, it’s getting so easy to write an essay now, I love it. I have to applaud my accomplishments.

*Clapping.*

Thank you, thank you very much.

Bring it

I’m finally ready for winter. Last week I bought a bath robe, so I can wrap myself up in it when I step out of the shower and am hit by the sub-zero temperatures (OK, that’s an exaggeration, but you all know what I mean). I’ve been wearing it around the flat, whether it’s morning, night or in the middle of the day. It’s warm. But what I soon discovered was that a bath robe didn’t help for my feet, which are always cold. I’ve been looking at slippers for some time now, but I thought I’d be alright by just putting some warm socks on. Alas, how wrong I was. So yesterday I wen’t to The Warehouse and bought a pair of slippers. I love them. So, so much. I only take them off when I go outside or get into bed. Oh, and does anyone want to try to guess which colour they are? I spent about 15 minutes thinking about it last night, but I’m still not sure. They seem to be some kind of purple-grey or whatever.

If you know me, you’ve probably seen my incredibly flattering new profile picture on Facebook, in my bath robe. So you’ve seen it on me. But just for the hell of it, here’s another photo of it, in stand-by mode.

I think I might actually survive the winter living in a non-insulated flat now. I’m never cold anymore. I’m almost hoping for some really cold weather to hit us soon (we had 19 degrees yesterday, sigh) just so that I can see how well my slippers and bath robe are working to keep me warm.

 

By the way, yes, this is an attempt to make amends for my bad “attendance”. At least my intentions are good.

Weekend Blues

You’d all be forgiven for thinking that I’d quit updating my blog. These last few weeks I’ve been terrible at it. Who knew that that’d happen when I got a social life?

Anyway, today’s Saturday. I’m not sure what I’ll do today, but what I do know is that I should be writing my English essay which is due in on Monday (in two days, I know), but I really hate that essay, and I must admit I’m kind of hungover from last night. Last night was supposed to be amazing. I was going to watch the season finale of Supernatural and, as my bewildered mind told me, talk to a friend in Norway on the phone. For some reason I got the time zones mixed up, so I imagined that Norway was 12 hours ahead of NZ when actually they are 12 hours behind. Sorry about that, dear friend. Let’s try that again tonight.

I did, however, get to watch the season finale of Supernatural. Twice. (I had to.) This is what ultimately ruined my night. But don’t worry, I won’t say anything about what happens. But when I started watching it, I was eating pizza and sipping chardonnay. When the episode was finished, I started on the chocolate, opened some bottles of beer, gulped down some more wine and stayed in my room for the rest of the night. I couldn’t leave, my eyes were too red and puffy for me to be around other people. Unintentionally, I got a little drunk, so that eventually my subconscious self succeeded and I had to get into bed because I felt a wave of extreme tiredness wash over me.

When I woke up this morning, I felt lost, like I had nothing more to look forward to, and I also realised that I haven’t got any plans for tonight. But then again, I should be writing my essay. However, I still feel like getting drunk. Argh, Supernatural, what have you done to me?!?

The Great Escape

 

 

Ehrm -

 

Hello.

 

Please accept my sincerest apologies for my long absence. Sometimes life catches up with you and forces you to slow down. Everything happens at once. There is no way out of it, you just have to wait and see. Follow the current. There is no other option, the current is too strong, anyway. But now I’ve finally managed to paddle my way to the shore, after a long run down the river. I think I’m standing on my own two feet, but they are strangely weak. I stand up, and feel disorientated. The river has taken me too far, and I look back, seeing past all the things I missed, trying to see where the current got hold of me. It’s impossible, it’s too far back. The only thing I can do now is to look forward and start making my own way down the rest of the river. Stay out of the current, stop and think when the situation calls for it, and try to enjoy the ride. I’m travelling down a one-way lane, my mind focused on one thing only, keeping fellow travellers close but at a distance. This is my adventure, and I am not ready to share it with anybody else just yet.

 

Come Saturday

I’m really looking forward to tomorrow night. At 6pm this guy (see below) is performing for free at a bar in Wellington called Mighty Mighty, and guess who’s going? That’s right, moi.

I suppose I should tell you who that is: that, my friends, is none other than Kiwi musician Dave Dobbyn, who became very popular in New Zealand in the 80’s, and has written and performed many songs that are now part of NZ’s culture (he’s particularly well-known for having written the soundtrack music for the animated feature film Footrot Flats, a classic Kiwi cartoon), such as ‘Slice of Heaven’, ‘Welcome Home’, ‘Loyal’, ‘You Oughta Be in Love’ and many more. The reason he’s performing for free in Wellington this weekend is to celebrate the start of NZ Music Month (May 2010). Dobbyn has been active in the music industry since his first debut with a rock band called Th’Dudes way back in 1979. This is a guy with musical credentials, so I’m excited about watching him live. After all, he’s a national treasure here in New Zealand.

This is where I belong

I have never felt more at home in Wellington than I do right this moment. “Why?” do you ask. Because it’s raining.

Not like, drizzling. It’s actually raining. Properly. The best part is that it’s still incredibly warm (we’ve had 20 degrees today) and hardly any wind; so big, heavy raindrops are falling almost vertically, with an occasional warm gust of wind just to make you smile. And such great timing! I didn’t have my first tutorial until 3pm, so I had the entire morning and most of the afternoon to just do my own thing, so this morning I put on a pair of shorts and went into town to do my grocery shopping. However, even shorts were too warm, but I mean, I saw people wearing large coats, boots, scarves, hats and so on, so I guess I’d look even more ridiculous if I’d taken my light jacket off and walked around in a T-shirt and shorts when apparently, it’s almost winter. I walked past a shoe shop with a big sign in the window which said: ‘Weeeeee! Winter is here!’ I just smiled at it and kept walking.

Then when I was walking to university I felt a raindrop land on my head, and a minute later I’d walked straight into a shower, but once you manage to get inside a building you’re pretty safe, because you can walk between all the buildings without having to go outside. It kept raining during my tutorial and the lecture I had straight afterwards, and then I was off home. I was lucky, though, because the rain came at a slight angle and hit me on the back, which makes it more pleasant than annoying. Before I was halfway home (it only takes about 5 minutes for me to walk home) I was contemplating just staying outside to play in the puddles and get soaked to the skin, but then I decided against it just because I started thinking about the song ‘Bowl of Oranges’ by Bright Eyes, which begins with the words ‘The rain, it started tapping on the window near my bed’ and this made me want to play it in my room, so I went home.

Oh and lest not forget: I got a test we had before the Easter break back today, and I got an A-. It made my day.

(Completely intentional blurred movement by the way…)

Back to varsity

After two very long weeks of holidays today was finally the day when I got to go back to university. Yes, I really am this enthusiastic about studying. It was great seeing some familiar faces again and asking people how their holiday had been. Before my first lecture one of the girls I know told me that I should do something (I happened to tell her that I’d been looking forward to going back to uni), and mentioned tramping clubs. I didn’t know that such a thing even existed, but apparently Victoria University has one, and I am definitely interested in signing up for it. They arrange weekend tramping trips all over the country, which sounds totally awesome. I get to go tramping, see more of the country and meet new people at the same time! I couldn’t ask for anything better.
VUW tramping club – the tramping club’s web site. I’m so tempted to sign up!

The Miracle

Guess who’s got a ‘coffee date’ tomorrow at 1pm? With a boy? You’re right, that’d be me. And I’m so excited it’s ridiculous. It’s amazing what a brief night out on the town can bring you. Finally, a decent bloke who was kind, interesting, funny, etc, and he invited me out for a coffee. It’s been a long time since I was this excited about a Tuesday.

Hurry up, Monday, go away.

The Wall of Shame

Just playing around on a boring Saturday afternoon…

I don’t want anyone to say that I can’t make fun of myself…

…and here’s a tribute to my friend:

I picked out all the “failed”/funny photos from me and my friend’s trip around the South Island, and our stay in Wellington.

No offense intended! :-)

Coffee break

After a long morning of studying (OK, I made that sound worse than it actually was – I’ve been reading a detective novel for one of my courses. It was fun and work at the same time.), I finally have time for a break, consisting of afternoon coffee and a bite of chocolate. I’m not complaining.

An anecdote

I just remembered something. I was sitting on my bed just now, with a bowl of Cadbury ice cream in one hand and Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone in the other hand, listening to The All-American Rejects and thinking that I should close the curtains, because it’s dark outside now, and people can see in more easily. Realising this, I also realised that I often change clothes and/or get undressed in my room without closing the curtains first. My across-the-road neighbours must love me. But that’s not what I was planning on sharing. What I had in mind was something that just came back to me, which happened a couple of weeks ago.

Like some of you might know, I live at the top end of a long, steep road, and on the day I’m telling you about I was walking down the road to catch the bus into town. The road is lined by houses on both sides, which are mostly occupied by students. This day my walk down the road started out like any other day, I was listening to my iPod and minding my own business, when all of a sudden I looked up, turned my head to stare at the buildings on the right side of the road and saw, to my astonishment, about four people sitting on the roof of one of the highest houses. They were happily chatting away with each other, and when they saw me staring at them, they waved at me, and I waved back. To put it MLIA style: I still have no idea what they were doing sitting up on the roof, or how they got up there. I have not seem them up there since. Either way, it easily made my day.

Motivated

Sadly I’ve been feeling less than averagely motivated to read my course books lately, so to boost my love for reading and hopefully find some motivation, I went to a book shop today and bought Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone… I’m sitting here staring at it now, wondering if it was such a good idea after all. I know what’s going to happen when I start reading it. I won’t be able to put it down until I’ve finished it, and no more studying will have been done. But I say what the heck, I deserve to have fun and to find my inner child every now and then. Hogwarts – here I come.

10 Facts

…about Wellington.

1. It’s really not that windy here. Windy? Yes. Extremely? Nah.

2. There’s a saying in New Zealand that the further south you get the friendlier people become. This, as well as the city’s position on the North Island, has caused some people to claim that Wellingtonians are not that friendly. This is not true. Let’s face it, the entire country is rather far south, hence people all over the country are friendly.

3. The hills in Wellington are not that bad. Yes, there are some steep sections, but keep in mind that the steepest street in the world is located in Dunedin, not Wellington.

4. The airport. Yes, that’s right. It’s a scary location, and windy, but after several arrivals to it, and as many departures, I can with my hand on my heart say that I was only afraid that we were going to crash into the ocean once.

5. It might be nicknamed Wellywood, but I haven’t seen a single Hollywood movie star or film director yet.

6. There IS always something happening in Wellington. Seriously. Walk down the street, and you’ll find something for you.

7. Te Papa, the country’s national museum, which is located at the waterfront in Wellington, is actually THE coolest museum ever.

8. The city is famous for its high ratio of cafes/people, which is great for a coffee enthusiast like myself. So far, my favourite is Caffe Astoria in Lambton Quay (the fanciest area, I reckon).

9. It is really compact. I have walked from ‘corner to corner’ of the city several times, in one day. Great for shopping without having a car.

10. The buses DO run on time. Beat that!

Who killed the Easter Bunny?

Hello. I’m sorry I’ve been AWOL for so long. It’s not that I haven’t had the time to write anything, nor that nothing interesting has happened lately; on the contrary. If you know me even just a little bit, you should know that I work best under pressure, so when I had an hour to kill before a lecture at uni I would update my blog, but now that I’m on holiday and my schedule consists of doing nothing 24/7, I find it hard to get anything done.

So, last Wednesday, my second last day at uni before the holidays, I was invited to a party. It happened during my very last tutorial that week, and the girl who invited me was none other than the girl who knew Anette (see earlier post; ‘Surprise, surprise’). The party was the day after, at Natasha’s flat (she lives with 8 other people, so many of their friends would also be there). Luckily I felt really social and happy on Thursday, so I walked to the place feeling confident and slightly tipsy, thanks to the alcohol I’d already consumed. At the party I was thrown right into a dance with three other girls, to Beyoncé’s ‘Single Ladies’. I then proceeded to talk to several other people, both male and female, a rat called Bosh and a cat which name I didn’t quite catch. I met a guy with a ukulele, who let me hold it and play a few random notes, talked to an awesome dude about Supernatural in the crowded back yard, stood in the toilet queue without having to use the loo but talked to more people and let them go before me to the toilet, did a bit of DJ-ing in the dance room and danced with some of the guys, before I decided to head home. Oh, and I got a phone number, written down on a piece of paper, tucked into my hand as I was leaving. *Melt*. I also made some new facebook friends, which makes me feel good.

The next day was less of a blessing. I got out of bed about three times that day, only to use the toilet or to get some food/drink. Not only did I have the sorest back in the history of sore backs (from carrying four bags of heavy groceries home on Thursday morning), but yeah, there was a hangover. A wine hangover, which is by far the worst kind of hangover as far as I know.

On Saturday morning I felt almost even more sorry for myself. There was no easter egg or easter breakfast waiting for me (I’m not even sure it was the right day for it?), so I cooked a simple breakfast with eggs on toast, and ate some Cadbury milk chocolate. Then I went into town, where I spent too much money (on stuff that I actually need, mind you). I got a new pair of shoes, a thin jacket, a late birthday present for my mum and some folders to keep my uni notes in. And yeah, I bought a small bag of Cadbury Chocolate Eggs, with a caramel filling, to make up for the lack of a traditional easter egg. Way to spend Easter Day or whatever it’s called.

Since Saturday I’ve just been chilling, watching movies at home, reading ‘The Turn of the Screw’ (which I’d decided I wouldn’t allow myself to be scared of, but it’s impossible not to), trying to get used to having another woman staying at the flat (my flatmate’s girlfriend, I assume, arrived from Hong Kong on Sunday or Monday, and she’s staying here for two weeks), and just attempting to stay away from the shops, to avoid spending more money.

I managed to get round to doing some sit-ups and other exercises two days ago, and I kept up the good habit yesterday, so I’m determined to do it today as well. I need to get some abs going.

 

That will do, bitches. I’m going AWOL again.

Mission Impossible I

Aaaah, you know that feeling when you finally get to sit down on a Friday night, put your feet up, and just relax? That’s the feeling I’ve got right this moment.

Yes, it’s been a hectic week so far, but the last 24 hours were by far the worst. Remember last time I had an assignment to write? I started writing it at 11pm the day before it was due, and it worked. I got it done by 3am, and when they gave us the marked assignments back on Tuesday, I found that I’d gotten an A-! That pleasant surprise aside, let’s return to the second essay I had to write. It was for the same course, which I feel I’ve got the hang of, more or less. Unfortunately for me, this second exercise was more demanding than the first one’d been… I sat down with my notes, books and cup of coffee before 8pm (or 20:00) the day before it was due, so I felt confident that I’d have finished writing the essay by 3am this time as well. However, the more I studied the essay question, the passage in the book we were supposed to analyse and the terms we had to apply, the more I despaired, and the easier I got destracted. But as usual, after I’d scribbled down some rubbish in the first paragraph, the sentences started flowing more freely, and this would soon prove to become my next big problem. The essay was supposed to be about 600 words long, and at a point where I wasn’t even close to finishing, I had written close to 1100 words… So I just pinned down my remaining arguments and then started trimming the text (more like butchering it, in fact). When I felt confident that I wouldn’t get penalised anymore, I shut the computer down and went to bed. This was just before 6am, and I think my flatmate got up right after I’d turned my light off.

I woke up at 11am this morning, feeling rather rested, so I got up and had breakfast and all those things. Then I looked over my essay again and managed to make it about three words shorter, so the final count was 706 words… Desperate to get rid of the essay I went quite early to uni and handed it in before 3:30, when the deadline was 5pm. Mission accomplished!

I then went into town and treated myself to a frappucino (it has been such a lovely day here!) and went to the supermarket and got some groceries and loads of coffee (I have to write another essay during the weekend).

So after a long week where I’ve been stressing every single day about these essays, I am now one down and one step closer to the Easter break! When I got back from the supermarket I cooked tea, a stir-fry which I’ve been craving for ages. I opened a bottle of wine, a rosé, which I just got from the supermarket as well, and enjoyed my dinner while listening to music. The perfect Friday night, if you ask me.

Surprise, surprise

Sometimes everyday-life becomes extraordinary. Like today.

I had struggled my way 3/4 through another Wednesday, which is the only day of the week when I have to get up early, because I’ve got my first lecture at 9am.

I had one tutorial left, which would make up the eighth hour I spent at uni in a single day (continuously). I was so tired, and just wanted to go home and get started on my English assignment which is due in on Friday. Not to mention that I was starving. Anyway (I get easily sidetracked), there I was, in my Media 101 tutorial, suffering silently and begging for it to end. I must admit I wasn’t being very social with the two other people in my group (we were supposed to analyse the music video for Michael Jackson’s ‘Billy Jean’), Alex and Natasha, but eventually we started talking. After some time talking about how we didn’t understand what we were doing, Natasha asked me where I’m from, and I told her that I come from Norway. She wanted to know if I spoke Swedish, and I said ‘No, I speak Norwegian, but I understand Swedish.’ She then informed me that she’d lived in Sweden for two and a half years and only returned to NZ just over a year ago. When she asked me where in Norway I’m from I used the same point of reference that I always use, which is Bergen (I ask the questioner: ‘Have you heard about a city called Bergen? You do? Yeah, well, I come from a small island just south of Bergen.’). Incidentally, this girl had heard about Bergen, and when I mentioned it, she tilted her head, and asked me in a doubtful voice if I happen to know a girl called Anette Loland (Løland). Instantly, I knew that the name was familiar, and after two seconds of twisting my brain I knew where I’d heard it before: She was in a newspaper back home before I went on my exchange to NZ in 2007, and the article was about how terrible EF (the organisation we both travelled with) had been at looking after her while she was on her exchange to NZ. When I read the interview way back in 2006 I got a bit scared by the news, so I contacted her to get more details about what had gone wrong, and was even invited to talk to her face-to-face (which I didn’t). So when I’d remembered all this, I told Natasha that we’re not exactly friends, but that I know who Anette Løland is, and I’ve been in contact with her. We were both quite astounded at this; that we would meet by chance, and actually have a mutual acquaintance from Norway!

Natasha’s mother works with STS, another exchange organisation, and apparently they had had Anette stay with them for a while after she’d been neglected by EF and needed a new place to stay, so they were like good friends and everything! We couldn’t stop laughing at the ludicrous fact that this was happening; it felt surreal and, like Natasha put it, ‘It was a stab in the dark’ when she’d asked me the question in the first place, because, I mean, what are the chances of something like that actually happening?

I definitely think we can call that kind of discovery an ice-breaker. We had something in common, so when the tutorial ended, we walked up the road together and conversated like old friends.

Thanks, Anette, I owe you one.

Mad World

”I was so free. The world was my playground, the soil my arena.”

- Cameron Duncan, ‘DFK 6498’

Tonight, Wellington will be my playground. You’ve got to make the most of the time you’ve got when you’re young. Sooner or later it’ll be over.

”If there is one thing that I’ve learned from all I’ve been through, it’s that you only regret the things you didn’t do. No regrets, guys. Not tonight.”

- Cameron Duncan, ‘Strike Zone’