The start of something new

So, I’m just sitting in my room procrastinating before I’m off to my second study group (aka “gossip central” as of now). Suddenly I decided to do a google search for blogs in Wellington to see if my blog would show up. The top result, however, was Victoria University’s student magazine, Salient. So I had a look at their page. And I’m glad I did. Their latest blog entry is entitled ‘Salient 2011. Has Editors. Needs Everything Else.’

Anyone remember how I said I’m going to join their crew to get some experience for my future temporary career as a journalist? Yeah, that’s still the plan. So I read the entry, and at the bottom it said ‘Expressions of interest by Wednesday the 3rd of Nov.’

Whoa, that’s tomorrow.

I immediately wrote an e-mail expressing my interest in helping out in any way I can. I can’t quite believe I made such a “bold” move just like that. Especially considering I wrote that I’d do pretty much anything for them. Ahem…

I never found my blog though, and now I’m curious to know whether anyone would ever find/read it if I didn’t advertise it on every other page I maintain on the World Wide Web.

Google works in mysterious ways.

Carlson, Brady, Lessing, Stalnaker, Armstrong, Mill, Feinberg, Montague, Neill, Carroll, Hume…

In case Mill didn’t give it away; these are some of the philosophers whose ramblings I’m reading at the moment.

You might detect a slight resentment in that sentence. Allow me to say that you are correct if you think you do.

I wonder how I’m going to feel when I wake up tomorrow morning. Considering I only read one philosophical essay yesterday (John Stuart Mill’s “Of the Liberty of Thought and Discussion”), I was surprised to discover this morning the instant I tried to sit up in bed that I felt like I’d been poisoned or exposed to some other evil; the world was spinning faster than it has ever done while I’ve been under the influence of alcohol, and when I finally managed to stand up I crashed into every bit of furniture in my room in my attempt to get to the bathroom. (And of course I will attribute this weird physical state to having read philosophy.) As I stumblingly found my way back to bed, I was determined not to let the swaying sensation keep me from studying harder than ever before for my philosophy exam (which is next Wednesday), so I fell back into bed, pulled the covers up to my chin, picked up the course reader and continued reading (Edward Herman and Noam Chomsky’s “A Propaganda Model” this time – it’s not even a proper philosophical essay, just a bunch of numbers). My attempt was stymied, however, by a sudden attack of drowsiness – so I dozed off for a couple of hours, and when I finally woke with a jolt it was past midday. Sigh.

Anyway, the instant I awoke I continued my perusal, and I just kept reading and reading and reading throughout the day. I didn’t even stop for the customary meal breaks, meaning I read all day without a single bite of food – unless you count three cups of coffee with a ton of sugar as a nutritional substitute. I didn’t take a break until 7.30pm, when I went to the local fish ‘n chips shop and bought a hot-dog and some chips to take home. (Unfortunately it takes just long enough for the food to be prepared for me to walk down the road to the liquor store and buy a bottle of wine and walk back up to the fish ‘n chips shop in time to pick up the yumminess.) So I got home, and read another essay on freedom of speech and the free press. Damnit, I actually decided today (I swear it was peer pressure – those bloody philosophers) that I’m going to spend a couple of years as a journalist. I suppose that’s what I’ll do to pay back my student loan once I’m back in Norway after I’ve been deported…

Guess what, I’ve decided to join Victoria’s student magazine, Salient. It totally kicks ass, and I feel way more confident writing in English for a larger audience now (I mean, I got an A+ on an English essay this year – not to sing my own praises or anything) than I did at the start of the year. That’s going to help me get a job at a newspaper or magazine at some later point in life, I suppose. Plus, I love to write, so why not?

But I digress. Back to philosophy readings. My brain has turned to custard. Information overload. On several occasions today I found myself laughing at something the philosopher wrote (Feinberg is exceptionally funny), and now I’m worried about my sanity. Is the philosopher actually funny, or am I completely missing the point? Also, what I fear now is how I’m going to feel tomorrow morning, considering the amount of philosophical texts I’ve read over the past two days increased by 400% in a single day. If reading one essay makes me feel like I’ve been on a sea voyage for the last four months and only reached land yesterday, I’m scared to think what effect reading so many more essays today will have on me tomorrow…

But even all this mad studying has its silver linings. It allows me to crawl into my own world of solitude without feeling asocial. Yesterday I did what I said I’d do a couple of days ago; I packed up my philosophy course book and my notes, and went to the Wellington Botanic Gardens, where I have found ‘my’ spot, which is rarely disturbed by other people, plus it’s relatively sheltered from the wind but gets all-day sun. So I went there and lay in the sun for a couple of hours while going over my notes. Sa-weet as. Turns out tanning and studying aren’t as mutually exclusive as previously thought.

All the thinking has also stirred my brain from its slumber, and last night, while I was trying to go to sleep, I had the most important epiphany of my life. I suddenly had a pre-conceived idea for a short film in my head, and I knew straight away that that’s going to be my debut. It just clicked instantly – it is my film, my idea, which no one else has come up with, and which no one else is likely to copy, in fact. I’m so looking forward to the time after my exam next week, when I can finally sit down and write it out, and even create a storyboard; I know exactly how it’s going to look. What’s so brilliant about it is that it’s so simple; I can probably make it without any funding whatsoever, which means that it’s the best kind of short film to be making as my first. I’m so excited!

PS. Facebook, consider yourself no longer part of my life. This separation is good for us.

Home hospitalisation…

 

If you ever want to know what Hell feels like, you should try putting yourself in my current situation (not that I understand why anyone would want to know what Hell feels like) – I’d be happy to trade with you.

I won’t give out all the details, but the gist of it is that I suspect I have a kidney infection. What does that mean? you might wonder. Well, google it. The point is, it’s not pleasant, and it all began last night. When I realised that all was not well, I took two panadols (painkillers) and went to bed to read something for my media course. After a little while, what always happens when I’ve taken painkillers, happened: I fell asleep. Sometime in the middle of the night I woke up with my course reader cutting into my throat, realised the lights were still on in my room, and felt an excruciating abdominal pain and an intense need to, uh, pee. Fast forward to me returning to bed and wrapping myself up in my duvet and blanket and trying to ignore the pain, which also emanates from my back and sides, arms, and neck, and experiencing chills racing through my body, and a dull pain in my stomach. Then imagine me lying there for ages, writhing in agony, trying to get comfortable enough to go back to sleep, and thinking about taking more painkillers, but deciding not to do so because moving even the tiniest bit hurts so much. That pretty much sums up my night. After a while I did go back to sleep (or passed out, who knows), and when I woke up this morning I did actually feel better, but I’d decided to see the people at the Student Health Service, and I stuck to that plan.

I only have one lecture on Wednesdays, and that’s a Media Studies lecture at noon, which lasts for two hours. Seeing as my personal attendance record is perfect, I was not intending to miss or skip that lecture, so I went over to campus earlier than usual to see a nurse at the Health Service building. They got me in really quickly, and the nurse set up an appointment with a doctor after I’d seen her, because of the back pain I’m experiencing. If it wasn’t for that, she would have said that it was just a urinary tract infection and given me some antibiotics for that and sent me home. So 5 minutes later I saw the doctor, who prodded me and asked me questions, and then decided to give me some antibiotics. He didn’t specifically say what he thought it was that’s wrong with me, so at first I just assumed that it was nothing more than a UTI. However, I soon became suspicious that it was something a little more serious than that.

First of all, I can’t just write off this pain in my back as a random co-incidence, because I cannot begin to describe just how terribly painful it is. I’ve never felt anything like it. Secondly, and this is what really made me suspicious, is that when I went to the lecture afterwards, my condition definitely deteriorated. I felt sick, weak, fatigued, I got a mean headache, and throughout the two hours I spent in the lecture theatre, I had chills come over me and I sat there shivering, feeling more or less like a sack of potatoes someone had tried to teach to sit up straight and look presentable. I felt awful. Thirdly, when I got back home, I discovered that two of the main symptoms I’ve experienced are the two main symptoms of kidney infection. Fourthly, the antibiotics most commonly prescribed for UTI does not match the antibiotics I got from the doctor, so my guess is that he thinks I have kidney infection but didn’t want to say anything to me? I know it’s a little far-fetched, but even if he was being honest with me, I still think that what I’ve got is a little more serious than a UTI.

After I’d been to the lecture I decided that I was in no shape to be spending the rest of the afternoon in the library to write the rest of my philosophy essay; which meant that I had to ask for an extension. So I went looking for a form to fill out and was told that there was none – I had to talk to the course coordinator in person, or e-mail her. The receptionist I talked to also urged me to get a medical certificate from the Student Health Service, because that would definitely help. So I went back there, and talked to the most incompetent woman I’ve ever met, and left not having a clue what came out of it (if anything at all), almost in tears because I felt so sick and tired, and a little stressed out.

Then I went home, where I did everything I could to make myself comfortable, and I had a large cup of coffee, before I read on the Internet that I should avoid caffeine when I’m on antibiotics. Gosh. That means one week without coffee. If the kidney infection doesn’t kill me, the lack of caffeine surely will. At the moment I’m lying in bed wearing my pyjamas, with a hot-water bottle on my stomach, in freshly laundered sheets, listening to music and trying to ignore the thudding headache I’ve got. As much as I’d like to work on my essay, I just feel too sick to be able to concentrate. And fuck, do I want chocolate.

Right, I think it’s time for a nap now. I’m so tired and sore all over, and sleep always helps.

Same old story, reloaded

 

Ah, the break is over. I’m not sure how I feel about this.

On the one hand, it’s great to get back into the daily grind, because I love being busy, but on the other hand lies the problem that I didn’t do enough work over the break, so now I’m going to be overwhelmed by it for the rest of the trimester. I don’t like the sound (or thought) of that, especially considering how I’ve got other things I’d rather do in my spare time than read my course texts and write essays… I’m going to give out my CV to several cafès in Wellington as soon as possible as well, so if I get a job that means less spare time and less study time. Eeek.

But hey! Let’s (always) look on the bright side of life. Maybe I worry too much? Today, the first thing that met me at uni was an A for the first project we did in Film101. Now that’s good news. But instead of celebrating, I spent the entire afternoon preparing the essay that’s due in on Friday, ‘cause apparently you can’t just write a philosophy essay like you can with most other essays. You have to understand the problem and actually state your own opinion, so instead of writing a draft today (which was the initial plan), I spent several hours just reading about public art and its purpose… When I felt like I was actually ready to write something, I realised that philosophy essays are written in a completely different style than what I’m used to, so I had to look up the guidelines online and read through them, which cut back another hour of my precious time. In the end I left the library without having written a single word for the essay itself, but I think I got all the basic preparation out of the way.

And did I mention that we had like 17 degrees outside today? It was pretty awesome.

I made my fabulous chicken and corn soup (with rice) tonight, it was better than ever, and it’s the first time in ages I actually cooked a proper meal that included meat. I’m so full at the moment. I’m feeling way too content and relaxed…

Chocomania

 

Every woman knows that it’s her very own best friend and worst enemy – the chocolate bar.

I confess that I’m a huge fan of these blocks of divine goodness, and I don’t care how “bad” they are for you – I eat my fair share of chocolate, and as long as it’s just every now and then, and I don’t indulge in every other unhealthy food that money can buy, I don’t see a problem with that. I’m also very active, so a bit of chocolate just keeps me from becoming too skinny (although my clothes are telling me that that has already happened – either that, or all my clothes have suddenly expanded two sizes).

 

If you ask me, the best accompaniment to chocolate is, first and foremost, coffee. As I have recently purchased an espresso machine, I can now make those delicious coffees you normally get at cafès in the comfort of my own kitchen, which has infinitely improved my daily life. A good book and some instrumental background music really tops it off. For however long those “ingredients” last, I’m in my own personal heaven.

I’m all set to write an(other) A+ essay, with these things at hand. (There will be no dinner tonight, by the way.)

Standing tall

I. Love. Wellington.

I won’t venture to tell you the entire tale about last weekend. It’s too grand to be put on my blog. On any blog.

I will, however, say something about it.

There I was, sitting by the bar at Public, my favourite place to hang out on a Saturday night. That place always comes with some good stories. The first time I met two lovely women from Auckland, whom I’ve been invited to stay with if I visit Auckland some time. This time I got dragged over to a table surrounded by basketball players. I was introduced to all of them, and I can honestly say it was some of the best company I’ve had for a while. They were all so tall, I felt tiny for pretty much the first time in my life! When they said they were a basketball team from Hamilton I pictured a group of amateurs. Silly me. Last night (Sunday night) I decided to do some research about the team, and it turned out that the Waikato Pistons (which is the name of the team) are the best team in the basketball league (or whatever it’s called), and that several of the players have played for the Tall Blacks, New Zealand’s national basketball team, and/or famous teams overseas. I was a little bit wow-ed. I’m glad I didn’t realise this on Saturday night. Tipsy as I was, I probably would have been a little starstruck. I know, how lame. So I’ve just figured out that when I’m a famous director I just have to be a little tipsy whenever I’m around all those big names, and I won’t be intimidated. Awesome.

Anyway, it was a night to remember. That’s for sure; I got home at 7 o’clock. In the morning.

I swear everything is still happening in slow motion. Still slightly hungover? That’s a possibility. Also, I’m still waiting for my voice to recover. Having to talk over the music for 5+ hours sort of killed it; not to mention that having to talk even louder in order for those tall guys to hear it way up there was a bit of a mission.

Thankfully I had the best Sunday possible, in Tawa, with the best company.

I wonder if I have time for another coffee or two, or three (or four?) before heading over to uni. Or maybe I should just buy a red bull. Yeah, that sounds better. I’ve also got a bottle of Coke. I better get ready. I just got out of the shower (aaah!) - I’ve had such a lazy morning; I got out of bed at 10.30 am. But I guess I needed that sleep, having suffered from sleep deprivation all yesterday (I got 4 hours of sleep Saturday night). It’s going to take me the rest of the month to recover from the weekend. Haha. I’m sure you all got that.

I better go.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.