Write the night away, and dream the day away…

It’s that time of year again. When the days are getting longer, sunnier, and warmer, and all I want to do is roam, free as a bird, and take in the atmosphere of an approaching summer.

Then there are the exams. And essays. Those big bullies. They force me to remain inside, locked up in my room, or behind big glass windows in the library, laughing at me as I longingly look out on the sun-bathed city and harbour.

This year, another bully has joined the others. A bigger and badder bully than the rest. His name is Rugby World Cup. And he teases me with the prospect of drinking and partying all night long, and having a lazy as day the next day.

But my brain, bullied and beaten, recoils from its dark corner, and tells me that no matter how tempting it is to give in to the bullies’ taunts and bad influence, I must focus on my assignments first and foremost. And so I try to do that.

On the first day I wrote 1,100 words on a 2,500-2,800 word film essay. On the second day I added another 1,000 words. On the third day I decided to try a different approach and started all over again; 660 words on the third day. On the fourth day the New Zealand national rugby team, the All Blacks, were playing Australia in the world cup semi-final. Words written: 0. Beers consumed: roughly 7.

I can’t know the meaning of self-discipline unless I cave in once or twice, right?

On the fifth day, I woke up at 11am and then spent almost 4 hours reading Harry Potter. Word count so far: 281. On assignment: Zero.

Time to turn the day upside down and live out my fantasies while I’m awake and spend the dark hours writing without interruption…

The Return

 

In the 1 ++ month since I last wrote a blog entry,  a lot has happened. Not much has changed, but a lot of exciting things have taken place in my life.

The main one is that I returned to Norway for a quick visit. That’s the first time I’ve seen my family and friends in a year and a half, so that was quite exhilarating.

I was hoping for three weeks of sun, barbecues, swimming in the ocean and hanging out with friends all day long but, alas, I must have forgotten that I was going back to a Norwegian summer. That means max. 15 degrees Celsius and rain. Bucketloads of rain. Overall I got to experience roughly 3 whole days of sunny weather and temperatures above 20 degrees Celsius. But at least I got to see my friends and family.

Oh, and the day before I returned to Norway was the date of my boyfriend and mine’s 6-month anniversary, and we celebrated it with a romantic dinner at night. It was really sad having to leave the next day, but at least I got to spend that important milestone with him, which I’m thankful for.

I returned to NZ on July 12, two days after the uni holidays had ended, so it was straight back to uni for me – I even missed out on a few lectures. But now, a week and a day later, I’ve gotten back into the normal routine of going to uni, studying, hanging out with people whenever I can and, best of all – today I’m seeing my boyfriend again, for the first time in over a month! Ever since I woke up this morning I’ve had butterflies in my stomach at the thought of seeing him again tonight (at 8pm), and they are not getting quieter as the hour approaches; on the contrary!

I’m actually in a literature lecture atm, but I can’t concentrate, so I figured I might as well update my blog.

It’s good to return, no matter where to. The very word implies roots, which, whether I like it or not, I have. In different places. Family, friends and my childhood roots me to Norway. More friends, education, and the love of my life roots me to New Zealand. So travelling between the two places is not like travelling to ‘another’ place, it is always a return, to a place I call home.

Oh Armageddon, How I Love Thee

And no, I’m not talking about the movie. Although I do quite enjoy that, too.

I am, of course, referring to the crazy end-of-the-world prediction(s) made by the crazy religious American Harold Camping. “The End is Nigh” – on May 21 2011 the world would come to an end at sunset, meaning that it would start with a massive earthquake in New Zealand at 6pm and travel around the world from there (westwards, naturally, all so that the Americans could sit back and watch the apocalypse unfold on their TV screens before it hit them) – OMG I’VE NEVER HEARD SUCH BULLSHIT BEFORE.

And Camping knew that this was going to happen because he had “deciphered” clues in the Bible. Go check in to a mental hospital, dude. You’re one of those ludicrous religious fanatics, just so you know.

I suppose most of you already know that he also predicted the apocalypse in 1994. Hey, big surprise – it didn’t happen. In fact, the biggest natural disaster in 1994 (in the Western World) was probably the Jan 17 Northridge earthquake in Los Angeles, CA, which had a magnitude of 6.7 and killed approximately 57 people. Not exactly something to shout “doomsday!” about.

Oh and I almost forgot to tell you – I woke up to May 22 a couple of hours ago. And boy, was she a beauty.

You know, if the world did somehow end overnight, and this is what the world looks like after Armageddon, and I find myself stuck here because I don’t believe in the Bible BS, whereas all the Christians were swept away to be with God – then I’ve got one thing to say to all you believers out there: YOUR LOSS.

Also, your loss, our gain. A world free of Christians could only be a better one.

As a student, and an atheist student at that, last night I did what I do best in the face of adversity or, in this case, a crazy prophecy: I drank and partied like the world was about to end. But you know what? Don’t be scared, it’s not going to end, nor do I believe it, it’s just something we do pretty much every weekend.

We don’t need to think that the end is nigh to party like there’s no tomorrow. Because we are reasonable, intelligent young people, not brainwashed, but educated, and we know that the sun doesn’t stop rising just because some madman says so.

Love and other drugs

Hello, hello.
First of all: Happy New Year to you all. I hope 2011 will be a great year for everyone I know. Myself included. (And I think it will be.)
There hasn’t been much action on my blog in the last month, but that’s only because there has been so much happening in my life. Trust me, I’m still alive.
Three weeks and two days ago I met someone who completely changed my life. My past, my present, my future – it all looks entirely different to me now thanks to him.
(Warning: This story may contain sappy parts. Consider yourself warned.)
Here are the odds we beat: I’m from Norway; he’s from Upper Hutt. He lives in Christchurch; I live in Wellington. He’s in the army; I’m a student. I was visiting a friend in Upper Hutt; he had just come home for Christmas a few hours before. His best friend is my best friend’s best friend. He was on his way to a friend’s 21st with my best friend’s best friend; my friend and I were at her parents’ Christmas party, and got invited along to the 21st at 11pm.
I was tired and not intending to go, but said ‘What the hell, I’ll go’. We met when they came to pick us up at my friend’s parents’ place. Instant thought: ‘Holy shit. Hot guy. Tall guy.’
Turned out he is 6 foot 7. And in the army. That combination alone was enough to draw me to him. Then I discovered that he’s the nicest and most caring guy I’ve ever met, with a great sense of humour and an awesome playfulness. WINNER.
After the initial meeting we decided to meet again, and three days later he drove to Wellington to see me, and from then on we pretty much lived together for the three weeks he was on leave.
I’ve never been happier.
We went and did so much together, and there wasn’t a moment of boredom. I got to spend some time with him in Upper Hutt at his mum’s place, helping out with various jobs and exploring the place.
Then, of course, came the time for him to go back to his job in Christchurch.
I went out to Wellington airport with him to see him off, and it was so horrible saying goodbye. There were tears once he’d disappeared through the gate.
Now I’m counting down the days until I see him again, which will hopefully be on the 29th this month. Then I’m going down to Christchurch sometime in February, and we’ll go on a roadtrip down to Dunedin. Having something to look forward to helps me get through the days.
In other news: I’m moving to another flat before the end of the month, to live with friends. Tomorrow I’m going on a camping trip to Somes Island, which is the island in the middle of Wellington Harbour.
So much to look forward to, and all I can think about is how much I miss my amazing man down in Christchurch.

Twenty Candles

Just sitting here eating some chocolate love hearts. And listening to Christmas songs.

I got the chocolate from my best friend in Norway. Because today is my birthday. Or, well, technically it isn’t yet, because of the fact that I was born in Norway, which is about 12 hours behind New Zealand, but I only see this as an excuse to celebrate for 2-3 days straight, to make sure I cover my birthday in all the different time zones.

Holy cow. There was just a delivery for me. A basket full of flowers and stuff. From my family in Norway – thank you, I love you so much!! You just made my day.

I started celebrating my birthday last night, with a few close friends. I had an amazing night, and despite the fact that half a bottle of malibu and half a bottle of vodka was consumed, I woke up this morning feeling fine.

I’m still undecided about what I’m doing today. So far I haven’t made any specific plans, other than to tidy up my room (there are empty alcohol bottles and cans, dirty plates, cups, etc, general rubbish, and clothes lying around…), eat a fair amount of unhealthy food, listen to some good music, and reply to messages on Facebook. Tonight? No idea.

I prayed for some nice, sunny weather today, having celebrated my birthday in dark, cold and usually wet conditions for most of my life, but the weather gods didn’t really listen to me. It’s overcast and about 13C outside.

Whatever, I’ve got chocolate.

Movie night

This afternoon I bought a ticket for the midnight screening of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Part 1.

I didn’t plan on going to the midnight screening, because I’m not really that much of a hard-core HP fan (although I love the books) and not desperate to watch it straight away; I’d prefer to go with someone if I went, and anyway I assumed that all the tickets would be long gone. Then I read on the cinema’s Twitter page this morning that there were still some tickets left to the midnight screening tonight, and I was like, ‘why not?’

So during my stroll around Wellington this afternoon I stopped at the cinema and bought a ticket. I’m going by myself, but that’s alright. I’m sure the experience is going to make up for it. I wonder if there will be people dressed up as HP characters…

The “official” world premiere is, as far as I know, November 19. However, that doesn’t seem to apply to NZ. Here the date is November 18, and thanks to the time difference between NZ and Europe (read: Norway), and me going to the midnight screening, I’m going to see the movie way before anyone in Norway does. Wicked.

If I was a mean person, I’d run home after it was finished and tell all my friends in Norway who are HP fans everything that happens. But that would be cruel, and I’m not going to do it.

Before the movie I’m having a wee drinking sesh with one of my friends from Norway, who just happens to live in Wellington as well. I’m meeting her in half an hour or so, so I better get going.

I’ll provide you all with my opinion of the movie as soon as I’m able to…

Victory!

 

It’s almost all I can say!

My brain is so befuddled with joy at the moment, I’m finding it exceedingly hard to express myself. THE HOBBIT WILL BE MADE IN NEW ZEALAND!!!

Of course, this is as it was always meant to be, but still! Lately I’ve had to deal with essays, exams, job applications, CV’s, illness, limited entry course applications and so on, and to top it off, the whole Hobbit ordeal, jeopardising the entire future of the NZ film industry which I’m hoping to one day be a part of. NOT COOL.

Then this.

Whoa, the relief is like a physical weight taken off my shoulders, leaving me with a sense of great exhaustion now that I realise how heavily it actually weighed me down. I’m so happy my head is spinning. I’ll blame this on fatigue, but I actually shed a few tears when I logged on to Twitter and my brain recorded the words ‘HOBBIT’ and ‘NZ’ in the same sentence along with a whole lot of exclamation marks, and I understood that it was carrying a positive message. Although I am tired beyond words right now, I wish I could go out into the streets of Wellington and drink and dance and sing all night long. I’m sure there will be plenty of other people celebrating tonight, but alas, I will have to postpone my celebration.

After a long and bumpy road to gain the green light, the Hobbit production is finally on its way. With Sir Peter Jackson as director, shooting will begin in February next year, right here in Middle-Earth.

Everything is as it should be…

The Battle for Middle-Earth

…is soon coming to a town near you.

I always get my priorities right. Really, what would you do: Stay at home and polish an essay that’s due in the next day, or spend 3 hours outside, surrounded by like-minded people, supporting a cause that means the world to you? OK, so maybe that was a little biased, but hey, I have to do something to make myself feel better for once again downgrading the importance of getting this essay right. (I think that’s a lost cause, though; that’s why I’ve stopped trying. Now I just want to hand it in.) At least I’m fully prepared for an all-nighter if need be (and I’m sure it’ll be necessary).

But that’s not the main issue today. I want to say something about the rallies that were arranged today to support filming of The Hobbit in New Zealand. I arrived in Civic Square about an hour early to secure a good spot, watching the people from Weta set up loudspeakers and TV screens etc. I had fun trying to recognise people, however it wasn’t until Gino Acevedo turned up that my heart skipped a beat; he works for Weta as a prosthetics supervisor and did a lot of the special effects on the LotR trilogy, and even got a cameo in The Return of the King as a pirate (on the right in the photo below). It was exhilarating seeing him in real life, after seeing him so many times on the behind-the-scenes footage from the extended versions of the LotR trilogy.

The second arrow points to Sir Richard Taylor; he runs Weta Workshop with his wife Tanya and is the creative supervisor. The biggest moment for me today was seeing him, as he talked to the crowd several times, reading a statement from Peter Jackson himself, as well as sharing some anecdotes from the production of The Lord of the Rings, making everyone laugh. Man, I love these people. Liz Mullane, the casting director on the Rings trilogy also spoke to the crowd, and shared a few of her own stories from behind the scenes, to highlight the way NZ pulled together to get the LotR trilogy made, and how they sometimes hit a few bumps along the way…

My heart swelled with pride and affection at seeing how much people in NZ care about their film industry. It was something special to hear stories from the making of the LotR from the people who were involved in it, even though it happened almost 10 years ago. It still means so much to them, and judging by the response their stories received, it still means just as much to everyone else.

After the last person had said their piece (there were several speakers, including the mayor of Wellington, several Weta workers and a couple of filmmakers), people released colourful balloons that had been handed out by the people who arranged the rally, and everyone was in a really cheerful mood. I very much wanted to say something to Richard Taylor, but didn’t know what, so I just went over to where he was standing, and snapped a couple of photos before I left…

For more photos from the rally, go to http://picasaweb.google.com/randikleppe90/HobbitRallyInWellington25101002?feat=directlink

Only bummer of the day was that I brought my video camera, thinking that it was fully charged, only to discover as I began filming that I had less than 10 minutes of battery life left… So I got about half of the mayor’s speech, and none of Taylor’s, Mullane’s and Acevedo’s anecdotes from the Rings days. Sad face. But at least I got to hear it in person, and to me, that beats nearly everything. Almost as good as being there myself (the filming of the LotR, that is).

Now I really need to finish the essay. All of a sudden it’s nearly 6pm. And I still don’t feel a panic attack coming on. How weird.

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…

All shook up!

 

That was quite some news I woke up to this morning. The first thing I noticed when I opened my eyes was the sunlight shining on my window, which was a pleasant surprise after the horrible weather that arrived last night, with thunder and lightning, even hail! But you know what they say: After rain comes sun…

But the stark contrast between the sunny weather in Wellington and what actually goes on out there was pointed out to me the second I went on facebook and noticed several mentionings of an earthquake by my friends in the South Island. So I went to Stuff.co.nz to see what it was all about. I instantly found that there had been a major earthquake at 4.35 am right outside of Christchurch, magnitude 7.1 (initial reports said 7.4, but it was later downgraded). Several buildings were destroyed, and roads, power lines, sewage systems, water pipes etc suffered severe damage in many parts of the region. Luckily no deaths had been reported. The quake was strong enough to be felt over most parts of the South Island, and reports also claim that it was felt by some as far north as Wellington and Palmerston North. Personally, I don’t think I felt anything, although I did have a very uneasy sleep and woke up several times during the night. One of those times it may have been due to the earthquake, but I don’t know. If you’re interested in seeing photos of the destruction, this is a good site: Quake photos – they are constantly updated, as well.

 

I was supposed to spend as much time as possible today writing a philosophy essay which is due in next Friday, so that I can go out tonight feeling that I’ve done something productive, but I’ve just wasted away 4 hours keeping up to date with what’s happening down in the South Island, instead. The fact that it’s a beautiful day in Wellington doesn’t make it any easier to stay inside, either. I actually turned my desk away from the window so I won’t have to look at the perfect, blue sky while I’m trying to study… Desperate times calls for desperate measures.

I’m craving lollies/chips/chocolate. And I don’t have any. Aaaaah.

I once knew a funny story…

 

…but now I seem to have forgotten what that was, so let me tell you another one instead:

The brain really works in mysterious ways. Forget about any so-called deities working in mysterious ways – it’s your brain you ought to worry about. As late as this very evening on which I am writing this blog entry, I realised something very funny about the way my brain works. I had decided to make a very simple dinner, which I knew wasn’t going to fill me up, so I decided to have some ice cream before dinner (I know – I’m a Rebel with a capital R). The reason why I had what many people would correctly label as ‘dessert’ before my dinner is simply the fact that when I have ice cream I get so awfully cold (can’t possibly imagine why), and so I need to eat or drink something warm to heat up again. In this case, my dinner would restore me to a normal temperature. So I loaded up a bowl with yummy vanilla ice cream and ate it all up (it felt so good) whilst cooking dinner. When my dinner was all cooked I was just about to find a new bowl for it, when I changed my mind and cleaned the one I had just used for my ice cream, because otherwise I would have to clean two bowls. And I suppose you now see what makes this a funny story. No? Well, of course I had to clean the same bowl twice, anyway, so what’s the difference? But in my mind it was more work to clean two different bowls than it is to clean the same bowl twice. Also, when I went to sit down at the table with my dinner, I was just about to turn off the light in the kitchen when I realised that when I do that, my brain tends to think that the dishes I’ve used to prepare my dinner have magically vanished, which often makes me put off doing the dishes ‘till the next morning, and that is not a fun realisation to wake up to. So what did I do? I left the light on, of course. And you know what happened? I did the dishes the moment I had finished eating. I like to think that it was because of my awareness of the mysterious ways in which my brain works. I don’t think it had anything to do with me manipulating my own mind.

 

Guess what I’m doing tomorrow? Oooh I bet you are excited now. So am I, by the way. I am going to a pre-screening of the movie Going the Distance, which is a new romantic comedy starring Drew Barrymore and Justin Long, and is about the trials and tribulations of a long-distance relationship… I got free tickets from the very awesome Sony NZ (I don’t get paid to say that, honestly), and I am going to make it into a big night – that includes the 30 minutes it takes to travel (by train) to where the screening takes place, which is in Lower Hutt. I’ve never been there before, so that’ll be interesting. At least I’m going with someone who seems to know the place (better than I do, anyway). I’m also going to feast on unhealthy foods, so there will be no breakfast, lunch or dinner tomorrow.

What I’m loving this week: The weather. I spent an hour sitting in the sun down by the waterfront on Monday afternoon, and I got some colour on my arms as a result! Would you believe it – technically, if we go by the rule that the seasons are the complete opposite in New Zealand compared to Norway, it’s still only late winter here. Not approaching summer, or even early spring. Late winter. And it’s possible to get a tan from sitting in the sun for as little as one hour. I love it.

Another thing I love is the decaffeinated coffee I got from the supermarket today. Last weekend I consumed over a period of 72 hours more coffee and various other energy drinks than most coffee-drinking people probably consume over 2 weeks. It really messed me up, in more ways than one, so now I’ve put myself on a strict low-caffeine regime, and today I’ve only had one double-shot and one single-shot cup of coffee. Yesterday I had one triple- or quadruple-shot (is there such a thing?) and one double-shot. I am finding it really hard to cut back on coffee after the hard weekend, and suffered from a horrible headache most of yesterday. Today I really felt like just chewing on some coffee beans or something, and so when I went to the supermarket I spent about 10 minutes in the coffee section, trying to pick a decaffeinated coffee but always finding myself back in front of the normal ones. Eventually I picked up a bag of decaffeinated coffee and ran for the exit (well, not literally, but almost). Since I returned home I have had 3 cups of it. I love how it tricks my body into believing that it has got its caffeine kick, because it tastes like coffee, but I don’t have to suffer any of the side effects (plus, I can drink it all day and all night long – my life is complete!).

 

(There will be no more of this for a while.)

Nature’s poetry

It’s one of those rainy days today. Not one of those grey, dark and miserable rainy days, but one of those quiet days where the steady patter of rain hitting the ground is the only sound that can be heard. I love those days.

It also suits me perfectly, considering what plans I’ve got for today. I’m going to spend most of the day inside, reading stuff for my courses, while drinking delicious mochaccinos produced by my amazing new espresso machine. And tonight I’m going to the movies – I’m finally going to see Inception, which I’m sure you’ve all heard as much about as I have. I really wish I had someone to go with, but alas, that’s life. And I’m not one to stay at home because of it. I like to think I’m cool like that (or brave, stupid, sad; call it whatever you like).

I feel really at peace with the world and everything in it today. I’m not quite sure why, but I suspect that it has something to do both with the weather, and the fact that I watched my favourite film last night, In My Father’s Den, and there’s something about that film that just gets to me like nothing else does. It bares all my emotions, makes me feel vulnerable and sad, which makes me feel so close to the story it tells, and gives me a real sense of peace afterwards. There’s no need to tell (but I’m doing it anyway) that it’s my inspiration as far as filmmaking goes, especially scriptwriting. In My Father’s Den is subtly understated throughout, and emotions are expressed in the most poetic way without seeming fake or melodramatic; put simply, it all seems real. You have no idea what you’re missing out on until you’ve seen it.

I also feel very creative today. All I want to do at the moment is to sit down and focus on writing my screenplay (which has been in the making for several months now), but I know that I’ll regret putting off doing my course readings, because that’s what I did last weekend and it seriously ruined my entire week… So here’s the plan: I’m going to read as much as I can before going to the movies tonight – that way I won’t feel guilty. And on my way home from the movies I’m going to stop by the supermarket, pick up a bottle of wine, and then when I’m back at home I’ll allow myself to sit down with my laptop and a glass of wine and let my mind wander freely into this other, imagined world which I’ve become so well acquainted with over the last few months. I’ve grown so fond of my characters that you wouldn’t be wrong in calling them my imaginary friends… I know, how sad is that? But then again, how many writers have you come across that don’t empathize with their characters and act as if they were real, and not fictional? I don’t expect them to suddenly appear somewhere, or talk to invisible people around me, all I mean is that I can imagine their lives; their backgrounds, mistakes, fears, hopes, desires, and so on. They live in a parallel world in my head, and so far about one fourth of that world has been put down on paper, and I’m really anxious and excited about getting the rest of it out there, as well. I want to do them justice, and I want people to see them and know them like I do. They are real to me, like the characters in In My Father’s Den – I want to recreate that same magic in my script.

That’s one mocha down. It’s amazing what coffee does to me. It’s divine – the nectar of the gods. I better make another one.

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.

 

What is the use of a blog?

I have discovered that many people use blogs to express their anger/disappointment/sadness or other emotion towards something or someone. Emotionally upset people tend to update their blogs very often, presumably using it as a public diary to gain affection and pity from the readers. Or maybe they see the blog as some kind of Internet shrink.

Personally, I try to avoid writing a blog entry when I am angry or sad, and usually only update my blog when I have good news or a happy story to share with the (however few) readers of my blog.

I’ve heard many people complain about the use of Facebook as a place to complain and moan about one’s misery. I fully support the people who are against this. I don’t mean to hurt anyone’s feelings, but I’m really not interested in hearing all about your family problems or boy trouble or whatever it is that bothers you. I must admit that I do post status updates that are not always rosy and happy (because believe it or not, bad things do happen to me!), but whenever I post a status containing something bad, I always make a joke out of it or under/over-exaggerate to take away the seriousness; I’ve found that this also helps me to deal with the problem, whatever it may be.

For the past couple of weeks, I’ve struggled with a rental company, trying to get out of a contract which I signed based on a misunderstanding. They are refusing to let me out of it and are threatening to take it to the Disputes Tribunal, and I may end up being liable for all the money I already owe them according to the contract, which is going to make me completely broke for the next decade or so.

This problem is the reason why I haven’t updated my blog for a while. I was sure that if I tried to write something when I was in the midst of discussions with lawyers, the company etc, the entire entry would express murderous rage and depression and hopelessness, and that is not something I want people to read on my blog. There have been happy moments in my life lately as well, but these would have been overshadowed by a looming mountain of desperation, so I decided to avoid my blog altogether.

You are more than welcome to say that I shouldn’t have written this blog entry, because it does, after all, focus on my legal trouble. But you should have seen me a week ago – trust me, I’ve come a long way since then. The old cynic in me even made a guest appearance for some time, and I felt that the entire world was against me and that people were out to get me for goodness knows what reason. You can relax, though, I got over it. Whatever happens next, happens, and I can’t stop it. What’s done is done, and there’s no way I can change the past, so I’ll keep looking forward. Even if the worst were to happen; that I have to pay the rental company (which would probably add up to be about $5500), the consequence would probably be that I had to leave the country due to lack of funds – but I would just go back home, save up more money, and try again in a year or two. Yes, I would be devastated – obviously - but it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

This whole ordeal has really put me to the test, though. It has shown me that I can manage on my own (with support from friends) through hard times. I’ve grown so much as a person during these last two weeks. At first I was ready to buckle under the heavy pressure that the rental company put on me to pay, but I knew that something wasn’t right about the way the signing of the contract had been done, so I sought legal aid. They agreed with me and also told me that the rental company is a real bitch to deal with, as they’d had dealings with them in the past, but I assured them that I’m not going to give in – that I’m going to stand my ground.

So this shows how I think a blog should be used. Not as a space for crying over spilt milk or the hardships of life, but as a place where people can find motivation and learn to appreciate the simple things in life, even if it is through reading about the trouble-filled lives of others.

Even if I spend the rest of my life turning over grey stones looking for gold – without ever finding any – I’m not going to let it shine through here.

The people have spoken… We won.

Changing my secondary plan of staying at home tonight is one of the best decisions I’ve made in a very long time.

The All Whites, New Zealand’s national football team, played their first match in the FIFA World Cup at 11.30pm today, and I did not want to miss it. So my initial plan was to go to a pub to watch it, albeit I didn’t really want to go by myself, but I decided that if it was necessary, I would. However, due to a terribly hard day (with an early exam and some flat trouble), I didn’t feel like socialising or drinking, so I thought I’d just stay at home and find a website that had live streaming of the match.

After dinner I felt much better, though, and decided I’d go to the pub after all. A bit nervous, I left my flat just before 11pm and walked into town. As I entered the pub that was my first choice (Four Kings), I was shocked to find it already packed with supporters, some even had facepaint to show their support. I stood awkwardly by a wall and stared at the screens over the heads of other people (I guess that’s one good thing about being tall, eh?), trying not to get in anyone’s way.

There was a generally loud round of applause as the All Whites entered the pitch and the New Zealand national anthem started playing.

And just for the record – whoever says I’m not really a Kiwi, who do you think you are? You don’t know me. If you had felt 1% of what I felt when I stood there in that pub, you wouldn’t doubt me, you wouldn’t even be doubting yourself. My heart swelled with pride, so much it was painful, and I felt a desire to get up on a chair and sing along with the national anthem (which, thankfully, I didn’t).

There was an excellent atmosphere in the pub (note to self: future All Blacks games will be watched from there). The All Whites started out really well, which made people really enthusiastic about the game.

One of the things I was impressed to discover was that the people actually understood the rules of football. Not do I know when this became common knowledge in NZ, as football has always been a minor sport here, while rugby has been the area of knowledge for the common man.

As the match progressed, and the All Whites lost control of the game, some people became more subdued and some simply left. Traitors. Others (myself included) remained behind to support the guys to the end.

When about 10 minutes remained of the match I decided I’d better cross my fingers for luck, because I had a feeling that they could still make it a draw. So for the last 10 minutes or so I tried to keep them crossed – and they did get closer to scoring a goal – but every time they almost scored I forgot about keeping my fingers crossed in the frenzy that followed. After a minute or two I’d realise that I’d stopped keeping them crossed, so I’d do it again, and they would get closer to scoring again. So in the last (additional) three minutes, I kept reminding myself not to slip up, because we couldn’t afford it. So I kept them tightly crossed, and whaddayaknow – in the very last minute of the match the All Whites scored a goal!

(Now I finally know why my luck has left me – I seem to be giving it away in such kindly gestures as that.)

When the All Whites scored the final goal, it was like a bomb went off inside the pub. The entire room exploded – security guards, avid supporters, bartenders alike – everyone cheered as if New Zealand had just won the World Cup. (It is fair to mention here that the last time NZ qualified for the World Cup was in 1982.) Everyone missed out on what was said during the last few seconds of the game, but it didn’t matter – people were hugging strangers, cheering, jumping up and down and celebrating all over. When we vaguely discerned a whistle being blown and the referee put his arms up, the place erupted all over again. Wild applause and chants ensued for some time. Then people eventually started filing out, and as I exited I heard Dave Dobbyn’s song ‘Loyal’ being played over the loudspeakers from the upstairs pub and into the dark night outside, where people were standing in little crowds, discussing the game and smiling and nodding at friends and strangers alike.

As I started making my way home, I heard and saw cars tooting and hooting; people were shouting and cheering everywhere, there was a mile-long queue at McDonald’s, and there was a general feeling of festivity in the air, as if it was New Year’s Eve or a similar event (I heard on Twitter that somebody fired up some fireworks in Brooklyn – a suburb – which pretty much sums it all up).

I had to walk all the way back to my apartment, but due to my elated mood that wasn’t a problem, and as I was waiting to cross the road at some lights there was a taxi waiting for a green light just in front of me, and there I was, grinning broadly (and stupidly) all by myself, and when the taxi drove past me the taxi driver smiled and waved at me – totally made my night even better.

As of now, it’s almost 3am (yes, that’s three o’clock in the morning for those of you who may not be used to the whole am/pm thing yet), and I’m extremely tired (ah, yes, I mentioned that I had an exam this morning), but I feel too happy to go to sleep just yet.

Tonight, NZ was one, its people was one, and we all seemed to agree on one thing: We won. Maybe not in hard numbers in the football game, but in our hearts and in our minds, we achieved so much more than that. I think this showed that New Zealand has finally discovered the beauty and the passion of football, and I’ll be damned to say it was about time.

We are one

 

We are not heroes

We are a team

We are one nation

That shares a dream

And with pride in our blood

We will succeed

Because we are team New Zealand

We will fight until the end

We are Aotearoa

We are, we are, forever.

 

Well done, New Zealand and the All Whites!

Open spot!

So, for those of you that haven’t heard: Guillermo Del Toro, the guy who was supposed to direct the two upcoming ‘Hobbit’ films, has abandoned the project. Jumped ship. Fled the country. Left the director’s chair. Unlike most people who have commented on the news article at stuff.co.nz, I couldn’t be happier. For years now, I have been angry with Sir Peter Jackson for deciding to make ‘The Hobbit’ into a movie. Not that I object against that book being made into a movie. No, the problem was that it was too soon. Because ever since I first read ‘The Hobbit’, I’ve been wanting to make a movie out of it. I love that book so much, and leaving the responsibility of making it into a movie in somebody else’s hands is to me like leaving your children with a homeless guy, and trust him to know how to look after them. Unthinkable. Even if Sir PJ was the producer, and would have final say about the look and feel of the film, and although I loved the look in ‘The Lord of the Rings’ - ‘The Hobbit’ was my movie.

When I first heard that PJ wasn’t going to direct ‘The Hobbit’ himself, after he had said that they were planning on filming it, I was beside myself with fury, at least up until they said who the director was going to be: Guillermo Del Toro. When they said that, I basically gave up all hope. But two or three years later, here we are – the movies (oh, and I despise the fact that they are making it into two films) are yet to be greenlit, the pre-pre-production has been going on forever, however no actors have been cast yet, and now the director has just left the show. And I’m cheering on the inside. Give me another couple of years, and I’ll be sitting in that director’s chair. If another director shows up in Wellington before that to direct the movies, I’ll start an underground guerrilla war to sabotage them.

I almost choked on my coffee when I checked my Twitter account this morning and saw that two people had linked to news articles about Guillermo Del Toro departing ‘The Hobbit’. These things almost never happen. The alleged reason was that he had committed to a movie project that was supposed to last for three years – and now we’re looking at six years in total (considering the fact that he’s been living in NZ for two years or so already, working on the script and doing pre-production, and the movies haven’t even been given the green light yet). He missed his family and needed to get on with other projects, so he packed his suitcase and was out of here.

I think I might have some lobbying to do at Weta these next few months…

Caught in my immobile flight

Oh, the choices I have to make…

I’m currently sitting in my flat, trying to write a really important essay about Atonement, but my motivation is hiding (I think it might be hibernating) somewhere, so instead I’m just wasting time and playing around with everything that I shouldn’t be doing at the moment, like updating my blog, taking photos and listening to music (some music from The Lord of the Rings just started playing, so now I want to watch that). As you can tell, I’m also keen to read Harry Potter rather than write about that other friggin book. Besides, it’s so unbelievably cold in my flat at the moment; I think that’s why my brain has shut down. I’m unconsciously trying to conserve energy to heat up my body. I’ve put on three layers of clothes, slippers, gloves, a scarf and my bath robe, I’ve had a cup of tea and held my hands under boiling water, and I’m still freezing cold. Good to know that winter is just getting started…

To be quite honest, writing this blog entry has revived some of my brain, probably because I love to write when it’s not for something that someone else is telling me to do – I should get back to my essay while it lasts.

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.

Hurra!

I thought today would be the day to make my title Norwegian, seeing as it is, after all, Norway’s National Day today, on May 17. I’m not going to celebrate it in any way, though. I could lie and say that it’s because I’ve got two lectures and a PASS class today (which is true), but the truth is I’m not celebrating because I just don’t care… I’m in New Zealand now, and here we don’t celebrate May 17, so why should I? It’s not like they’d give me a day off from uni to celebrate, either. But I’m still happy today, which is why I decided to at least write a blog entry about it, and not let it pass in complete silence. Fact is, I’m really happy. I’m handing in my English essay today, and after that my next essay is not due until June 3, so I can finally breathe again for some time. And I’ve got coffee appointments for later on today, tomorrow and Thursday, so I definitely feel very much at home in Wellington now. I’m currently sitting on my bed in my pyjamas, bath robe, and slippers, enjoying two cups of morning coffee whilst listening to nice music, so yeah, life’s pretty good at the moment.

Something I made yesterday and glued to my bedroom window.

(OK so maybe I’m just a little proud…)