Quicksand Manor

Right now, I'm visiting my family in Norway for a bit. And it's nice. Mostly. There's just one thing I've noticed that really really really annoys me.

Things have an uncanny way of just disappearing.

Not because people 'borrow' things and don't put them back, that doesn't really happen anymore. I mean things get swallowed up by the mess. Eaten by the house. Disappear into a different dimension. I think 'I need this thing'. I look for the thing where I think it might be. It's not there. I look for the thing where it might have ended up if it's not where I thought it was, where it would be if I'd just put it down and forgot about it, and under the couch. Then, if it turns up at all, it will be exactly where I thought it was supposed to be. Or under my bed.

I know this is an internationally recognized phenomenon. It doesn't only happen to me. It just seems to happen a lot here. Plus it's super annoying.

Hey. You're My Project.

My sister is studying media at the moment. Right now, she has a photography assignment about 'someone with a talent'. Because she's lazy  I'm a brilliant artist, she has decided to do her project on me. This has involved some artistry and a bit of posing on my part, and lots of hard work and frustration (terrible model, bad lighting, and troublesome equipment) on hers.

Because I'm also a narcissist, I've requested a copy of the photos. You know, to kick start my modelling career. Or something. Some of the pictures turned out alright. Among them my new profile pic!

'By the way, you have to draw or paint a self-portrait'.

I think the idea here is about an artist's way of representing him/herself. You use your work to communicate who you are and what you stand for. There is no separation between the artist and the artist's work. I have actually done a project that gave me similar associations, though visually, it looks very different.

At work.

This one speaks for itself I think. Drawing stuff is always necessary, and pencils create pretty lines!

Still at work.

'I need you to draw or paint a union jack because you have to pose in a picture with a union jack and a tea cup' 

Because I'm, well, living in England and tend to try to limit my tea intake to about 16 cups a day. My boyfriend also happens to be an absolute addict and should really just be kept on a drip. He keeps saying he'd probably bleed tea. It's not quite true, luckily, because that would very possibly turn me into a vampire every time he had an accident. And that might increase the number of 'accidents'.

This one is kind of a disaster, but I like it.

Everything is kind of blurry and kind of horrible, because it's winter and we've got about an hour of daylight on a good day, though since i got home, an hour of daylight is close to what we've had the whole week. The camera isn't really up to the night photography challenge, and because it's f***ing freezing outside standing still is kinda impossible because I'm shaking. This picture might not end up being part of the actual project, but I quite like it. It's artsy. 

___

My sister had a different pick of the series, and told me the presentation went very well (she got a 5-/B-) . Apparently the teachers LOVED the concept, the variety and the finished pictures, but would have liked to have such things as lines and movement of the CD shelf mentioned in the presentation.  Oh well, positive feedback is positive feedback, and I'm happy to be a part of such an interesting project!

The Tea Tastes Different In Norway

Maybe it's the water. Maybe it's the milk. Maybe it's psychological. But the tea tastes wrong. And I'm constantly thirsty.

Actually... it's probably the water. It's the most difficult thing about living abroad. When I come back to Norway after being in England, the water tastes dirty. Back to England, and it tastes like chlorine. Adjustment is necessary, and being away for about a week, I just get enough time to adjust. I usually choose not to.

Life is a Lemon and I want my money back

I've cracked it. This song is all about tea. You order English Breakfast tea and accidentally got Lemon.
You'd like a full refund, and since tea is serious business, your day is ruined. As is the rest of your life when you think about it. Lemon tea!

Christmassy Cinnamon Coffee

The weather is cold and grey. Winter is coming. It's still a month left until Christmas, but hey - December soon. What you need is a comforting drink in front of the fire.

I'm normally a tea drinker, but days like these, I enjoy a bit of cinnamon coffee. It's the easiest thing ever to do, too:

1. Make coffee as you normally would. Instant works just fine.
2. Dig out your powdered cinnamon from the cupboard (if you haven't used it since last x-mas it'll be at the back, if you recently attempted the cinnamon challenge you may have to go out and buy some more)
3. Add desired amounts of sugar and cinnamon. Stir.
4. Add milk (you could probably skip this if you don't like your coffee white, and just go ahead and enjoy already)
5. Optional - if you've got a bit of whipped cream, put some on top for a luxurious finish. Sprinkle with cinnamon.

cinnamon sticks are added strictly for presentation purposes

Sit down, enjoy, and think about christmas baking for a minute. You know you want to.

Picture Sells a Scent

I was reading a girlie magazine today, and came across something unexpectedly refreshing. It was a perfume advert, of all things.

Let me explain. Perfume ads don't make sense. See, it's kind of hard to use a picture to sell a scent. You kind of have to sell an image. So to me, perfume ads say f**k all about the perfume, beyond 'beautiful women wear it. It makes you sexy and male models turn into drooling puppies.' Perfume ads are suggestive, they're beautiful, and it leaves you with no idea what the product might be like (unless it comes with a sample. That is brilliant). Just look at these (randomly chosen) examples. What can you say about these perfumes?

Kind of heavy?

Light and girlie, may contain pink roses?

Light and fresh?

That's just guessing, based on the ads. I have but a faint idea of what 'light and girlie' might small like, for example, or whether I'd like it at all. I'd say it would appeal to someone who likes a lot of pink, girlie girl, so probably quite sweet and not too strong. Alternatively, anyone who'd like to be Natalie Portman. These three adverts are gorgeous, but they essentially say the same thing. 

That is why I found this ad absolutely amazing. Yes it's beautiful, but more importantly, imagine what this perfume might smell like? I'm thinking maybe, possibly, a hint of daisy?

I absolutely love this ad. I want to try this perfume because of it.

Oh by the way, I don't own any of these images. They have been shamelessly googled.

Telephone Terror

It has been brought to my attention that I am not, in fact, completely 'normal'.
For example, I have been told that normally, people don't have a panic attack by the thought of making a phone call. I do. And despite previous statements to the contrary, people around me have come to realize it is not merely a matter of me 'being silly'. I am genuinely terrified of dealing with people over the phone.

Now I'm aware that many people find phone calls somewhat unpleasant, and I can come up with several reasons why I wouldn't be entirely comfortable with it.
- I much prefer dealing with people face to face, so I can see their facial expressions and body language.
- I'm afraid of being unable to hear/understand what people are saying, and they are unable to hear/understand me.
- I HATE having to lead a conversation. I never know what to say.
- You know that moment after you've dialed a number, before anyone picks up the phone? That moment of uncertainty when you don't actually know whether or not you've reached the person you're trying to get in touch with? That.

Well, these are all reasons why phone calls can be unpleasant, but downright terrifying? That doesn't really make sense. It doesn't explain the way my heart rate doubles and I start shaking when the phone rings, or why I need to sit alone in a quiet room with the door closed, with pen and paper or my laptop (or preferably both) in front of me, trying to control my breathing to stop hyperventilating in order to make a call. These are not rational reactions.

Furthermore, I don't know why I react this way. I can't remember any terribly unpleasant experiences in my childhood, in fact I used to phone people all the time. And I still remember being a kid with my first ever mobile phone. What ever happened? Could calling a wrong number a couple of times really have such a strong effect? I know I was a sensitive child but... really?

Did something happen that I have repressed?

Here choccy choccy...

It has been claimed that chocolate helps against depression, and I'm sure there's something in it.
I really wanted some chocolate today.

And I've got some, too... packed away in my backpack, along with all the other stuff I was supposed to bring back for my sister. And it's a massive one.

Basically, I am something of a personal shopper for my sister. She requests something, I go out and buy it. Quite a luxury. And if it wasn't for the fact that she's in a different country, I'd ask her to get it herself. Politely. NOT. Anyway. She asked for a Galaxy chocolate bar, so naturally I picked up the smallest one I could find, a christmas special family pack about the same size as the magazine I went out to get her.

Unfortunately, it's also quite suicidal, and currently screaming at me.

Bloody emo chocolate.

Chop, chop - there goes my hair!

Today, I had a haircut.

Not just any haircut, no no. A dramatic change.

Something so huge, in fact, that my hairdresser asked for permission to take before-and-after photos of me. I had my hair cut short.

I've enjoyed the long-blonde-hair look for well over a year now, but it's got to the point where I'm getting sick of constantly brushing it, and drying it... dear me, drying it! It takes forever!

Even my boyfriend admitted that, while he quite likes the look of my long golden locks, he is not so keen on the taste. I can see where he's coming from; long hair gets everywhere.

Now I have had short hair before, so I wasn't too scared having it all off again. Truthfully, I believe I can rock any hairstyle except the long look; long hair somehow washes my face out completely. Which is ironic, considering the cultural link between long hair and femininity, grace and beauty. 

I'm loving my new hairstyle, and can't stop messing with it!

Little Granny knits the "Skappel-jumper"

Norwegians will get the x-mas reference here... I hope

Every now and again, I enter what is commonly known as Granny Mode, and get a sudden and inexplicable desire to knit something. This most recently happened a couple of weeks ago, and as a knight in shining armour, the Internet was there to help me search for possible projects. Something other than "scarf".


This is how I came across something incredibly odd. It appears that my native country, Norway, has been home to something of a knitting craze over the summer of 2012. Young girls are teaching themselves to knit. Wool shops have been struggling to meet the demand for Alpaca yarn in greys, whites and browns over what is normally a rather quiet season. All in all, this is very strange behaviour and surely an early symptom of the zombie virus that will eventually wipe out the majority of the human population.

Actually, the Norwegian knitting hysteria is caused by this jumper, known as the Skappel-jumper because of its connection to celebrity Dorthe Skappel. The story, as I've understood it, is that she enjoys a bit of knitting, and has been photographed wearing her own, home made jumpers. As have her increasingly well known daughters. (I have to take the internet's word for that, as I am rarely exposed to Norwegian media in general these days and don't tend to follow fashion or gossip if I can help it) So, as people were getting more and more curious as to how one of these unique pieces of clothing could be acquired, Maria Skappel posted the instructions on her blog.

Norway went mad.

When I was a school girl, art teachers would face a desperate struggle every year to attempt to teach another group of kids to knit, with responses ranging from reluctant attempts to complete anarchy. Knitting just couldn't lose its granny image. Therefore, this phenomenon is quite extraordinary if you ask me. Which you do. Since you're reading my blog.

Now, for the very first time, I am starting work on a knitting project that is part of a fashion craze! I have chosen a different type of yarn though - as Alpaca yarn, and indeed any yarn with a high percentage of quality wool, is quite expensive. What I'm using instead is a 50/50 Meriono Wool and Acrylic for my thicker bit, and a fine yarn with small silvery sequins (31% wool) for added detail. Both from my local wool shop, that I went into for the first time less than a week ago and am now in love with!

My yarns and knitting needles, displayed so they just happen to show the labels clearly.

So, my Skappel-jumper
Because I'm a small girl, I made some adjustments. The pattern I worked from suggested to make it 80 stitches wide, I did 66. With the sleeves, I started at 28 rather than 40, and took it up to 52 as suggested.
And of course the yarn is different, as I've already mentioned.

The total cost of the yarn and equipment used was £51.47
broken up as follows:

2 pairs of knitting needles, one long bamboo and one 60cm round, total £6.20
1x 2 yarn/wool hand needles from amazon, £1.77 per packet of 2
8x Wendy MODE yarn, each £3.25, £26 in total
5x King Cole Galaxy yarn, each £3.50, £17.50 in total

It took me just under 2 weeks of intensive knitting to finish, and I'm quite happy with the result. Not blown away by it, there are some awkward bits - namely the seam connecting the sleeves to the torso - but hey, I made it myself!

I do feel a sense of pride and achievement to have knitted my very first jumper. I think it has also given me a new perspective of the value of clothes in general, in terms of the cost, time and effort it takes to make even the simplest of items. Making a jumper from good quality yarn, even taking out the potential cost of the labour, is not cheap. It costs more than you would typically pay for a (let's face it) better looking, finished product from somewhere like Primark. Even considering their materials are typically cheaper (bought in bulk and typically 100% acrylic), taking into account the margins needed to make a profit, imagine the value of the work going into producing each item? It can't be much?!

Parents and Sweethearts: How to sabotage a Girl's Relationship (with her parents)

Well people, confession time. I don't have a great relationship with my mother. Never had. It used to be very much up and down, but lately, it's been mostly down. I can't stand her company, and it alters my behaviour, so right now (which effectively means forever and ever and ever...) my mother is mad at me for being rude to her or something.

Now while my relationship with my mother has been up and down over the years - I blame my upbringing for many of my bizarre hang-ups and anxieties, though she did have her enlightened moments too, so it's been good and bad - recently, over the last couple of years, us getting along has depended on me being overbearing and smile through any bulls**t. That works just fine as long as the conversation doesn't get personal.

And that's just the problem. Lately, when we do get together, it does get personal. She clearly disapproves of my decision to stay in England and live with my boyfriend, and acquired a habit of putting in 'as long as you're okay with it' about five times a minute, which clearly demonstrates to me that, if she was in my shoes, she would not be okay with it, and I shouldn't either.

The funny thing about all this is, of course, what every parent of a teenage girl knows or will soon discover: telling her you disapprove of her chosen sweetheart, or trying to sabotage her relationship, will only ever damage one relationship, and that's yours - with your daughter.  And my mother knows this.

Years ago, I was dating a guy who was, shall we say, not right for me. My dad picked up on this straight away, of course. His disapproval was not at all subtle and I started avoiding my dad, spending more time with my boyfriend instead. When I eventually did come to the same conclusion, the boy wasn't right for me, it was something I discovered all by myself, without daddy's help. This was also when my mother confessed she knew it wouldn't work, she just didn't say anything because
A) She didn't want to damage our frail mother-daughter relationship, and
B) Because she trusted me to discover it for myself.

So what has changed? Why suddenly this urge to try to come between me and my boyfriend by coming in with constant, not-so-subtle digs at him? Why on earth does she think, if I have to choose between them, I wouldn't choose the one who makes me happy every day over the one I could never please?

It's MINE.