Taken

When I was 8, I got kidnapped. I never saw my family again. Well, technically it was the day before my eight birthday, on the last day of school.
I was short for my age, though not particularly skinny. That was soon to change. My abductor was italian, but sometimes spoke in english as well. Before I was taken I'd never heard italian, so I nevr knew for sure that that was what he spoke. As I could understand the odd word of his english, I just figured I didn't speak english very well. Which was true of course, I only knew some because I kept asking anyone who would answer what different words meant. People soon got fed up, so I stopped asking. I'd always been good with languages though, and was one of the first in our class to crack the reading code when we got our first proper reading book. However, I didn't understand what a man who didn't speak norwegian was doing in Norway. At least I don't think he understood, he never answered me in a language I understood, norwegian being the only one of course.
I was reported missing the very same day. The police, and later volunteers searched the entire forest by my school. I sometimes used to walk through it on my way home if I wasn't in a rush. Which I certainly wasn't that day. It was 20 june 1997, and I'd just finished the last day of school before summer. I sometimes wonder how things would have turned out if I hadn't walked through the forest that day. There was no point searching the forest of course. By the time I was reported missing I were nowhere near that forest, although I cannot know that for sure, me being unconscious at the time, but I was either in the back of a van or locked up in a basement somewhere. A basement I would be stuck in for the next 3 months. I only know about the van because I was still conscious when he put me in the back of it. I distinctly remember a needle, but that is all. Next thing I know I'm in a dark basement, having no idea how far we'd driven or where we were. Not that it would have made a difference knowing how far we'd gone, I never was very good with geography and never paid attention when we were driving anywhere, so I probably wouldn't have been able to guess where we'd ended up.

The first couple of days I was sure I'd be rescued. After all, every child ever kidnapped on TV was rescued by a team of very clever FBI agents. Usually one of them would be a pretty woman. Later I was not so sure. I soon lost track of what day it was or how long I'd been there. In the beginning I'd get 3 meals a day. Usually bread with cheese. I never really liked cheese, but soon learned to eat it, otherwise I'd get a beating. Some days I had to go without food. On days like these I'd fill up on water, although that meant I'd be constantly running to the toilet. However that was better than feeling comletly empty. I'd often fall asleep from exhaustion, and I'd sometimes think about my little brother. He was only 3 year old when I was taken, and I wondered if he'd remember me. I was never worried about my parents forgetting me. 'Cause adults don't forget people as fast as children do. At least that's what I thought.

Weird films

I'm not sure we're meant to understand them, but they get you thinking. I guess that's what makes me like them so much. The mystery that's the human mind. Who's claiming to know humans anyway? We're all fucked up. If one cannot understand oneself, how is anyone meant to understand? What is understanding anyway? Is it knowing what people are feeling/thinking? Or is it knowing why they feelthat way/think that? Does anyone know at all? Sometimes people seem to know what you're thinking. But maybe it just seems that way because you want them to know. A subconscious wish to be understood without telling anything. Maybe just having them know, without wanting them to do anything about it is what we want. 'Cause who can change the past anyway?

Også kom storken...

Det flyter med babyer. Det er faktisk blitt slik at de fleste jeg kjenner som nettopp har fått barn er yngre enn meg. Personlig så kan jeg ikke tenke meg å få barn anytime soon. Hva er greia? Okei, ungen får ikke gamle foreldre når han/hun vokser opp, men er det egentlig en fordel? Skal noen som knapt har blitt voksne selv være i stand til å ta seg av et barn, og oppdra det til å bli et godt menneske?
Selvfølgelig er det unntak, noen takler det å bli foreldre som ung veldig bra, men er det egentlig noe å trakte etter? Det går ann å vente et par år...
No entendiendo

I want to scream!

Her pakkes det for full maskin. Eller nei, det gjør det ikke. Jeg har pakket de tingene som definitivt ikke skal være med hjem i sommer. Nå tenker jeg at jeg skal fordele klærne mine i ja, nei og "hvis det er plass" bunker. Oh the joy...

Black and white

Just dive

I wish I was a unicorn, so that I could fly away
No need to come back, free like a bird

It's just one of those days

That is all...

Just beat it

Sometimes crying is a good thing, sometimes it helps.
But if it happened more than 6 months ago, there's no point crying yourself to sleep.
So why then, can I not let it go?

Barbie's full name is Barbara Millicent Roberts

Nyttig informasjon ikke sant? Nei? Men litt morsomt er det jo å vite litt sånn rare fakta.

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• Kyr kan gå opp trapper, men ikke ned
• Google skulle egentlig hete "backrub"
• Det største maleriet på jorda er et 72437 kvadratmeter stort smilefjes
• Verdens korteste krig varte i 38 minutter
• En kakerlakk kan leve opptil 9 dager uten hode sitt
• Elvis var naturlig blond
• Griser svetter ikke
• Ketshup ble solgt som medisin i 1830 årene

Flere artige men unyttige fakta finner du her

Lay your hands on me

1.Put Your iTunes, iPod or media library on shuffle
2. For each question, press the next button to get your answer.
3. You must write down the name of the song no matter how silly it sounds!
4. Put any comments in brackets after the song name.
5. Tag at least 10 friends.
6. Anyone tagged has to do the same, because fun pointlessness spreads like a virus.



If someone says, “Is this okay?” You say?
Illegal

How would you describe yourself?
Don't go knockin' on my door (lol)

What do you like in a guy/girl?
Let love lead the way

How do you feel today?
You're the storm

What is your life’s purpose?
Who do you think you are

What's your motto?
Down the street to 301

What do your friends think of you?
Open your heart

What do you think of your parents?
Daddy's car

What do you think about very often?
Bottle of jesus (ehm, okay.....)

What is 2 + 2?
Contagious

What do you think of your best friend?
Round round (???)

What do you think of the person you like?
Valerie (once again: ???)

What is your life story?
Just friends

What do you want to be when you grow up?
Love comes (???)

What do you think of when you see the person you like?
Luther played the boogie (haha)

What will you dance to at your wedding?
If I don't have you

What will they play at your funeral?
Hodet over vannet (Head above water)

What is your hobby/interest?
2 become 1

What is your biggest fear?
Sunshine (or not)

What is your biggest secret?
Whose bed have your boots been under? (not quite)

What do you think of your friends?
When Susannah cries

What will you post this as?
Lay your hands on me

Just in case liksom

Jeg åpner vinduet, stikker hodet ut for å se om mine foreldre har gjort det samme. Det har de, altså åpnet vinduet. Jeg lukker mitt, det er for kaldt. Facebook er tregt. Jeg skal bare sjekke kommentaren på en wall-post. Jeg vet egentlig hva det står. Det er jo begrenset hva man kan kommentere på "Gratulerer med dagen=)". Hun kunne ikke like gjerne sagt, "jo, takk det samme", det var jo ikke god jul jeg sa. Jeg sjekker likevel, folk overasker jo stadig.

The plastics have come to town

Jeg tenker at hun sikkert er penere uten sminke. Ikke det at sminken gjør henne direkte stygg, men det ser ikke så veldig naturlig ut. Hun har platinablondt hår. Hun har sikkert brukt rettetang. Hun har trange jeans og stor boblejakke, for det har alle de kule kidsa. Så hva er greia med ti lag brunkrem? De fleste legger nok ikke merke til annet. Hun er sikkert penere uten sminke, jeg håper det.

You know you're in Norfolk when...

• ...there are more speed cameras than anywhere else in the country
• ...you get overtaken in the 30mph-zone
• ...you're almost the only one using the car's indicators
• ...people drive in 60mph on tiny roads with no clear sight around the corner and there is not enough space to meet another car
• ...you are about the only one not speeding
• ...you can't understand what half the people say because they're mumbling
• ...there's a Tesco around every corner

Some road observations:

• About half the cars to overtake you are black
• The only cars you driving slower than you are lorries or driven by people talking on the phone, lighting a cigarette or people over 60 years old
• Some people drive in 40mph in the 60-zone and 60mph in the 40-zone....

I've been to Fakenham, and I love everything except the other drivers.

Å reise

Noen ganger tenkr jeg at det hadde vært mye enklere å gi opp. Reise til et annet sted. Forlate alle som tror de kjenner deg. Bli en ny person, man kan være hvem man vil. Kanskje er det det jeg liker med nye plasser, man får liksom starte på nytt. Ingen vet om den gangen i 8. klasse da du dret deg ut, ingen vet at du egentlig ikke snakker med folk. Det er ingen som vet hvorfor du er litt tilbakeholden. Ingen kjenner deg og det er befriende. Men noen ganger er det litt godt at de vet hva du tenker, at du ikke trenger å si noe, de vet det likevel. Det er en vanskelig balanse det der. Tenk å kunne reise...

Long time, no see

Etter en lang (ufrivillig) bloggpause er jeg endelig tilbake. Mye har skjedd, blant annet har jeg returnert til Aberystwyth :)
Jeg har lært at London, Heathrow er en fantastisk kjedelig flyplass. Jeg tilbrakte nemlig 6(!) timer der da jeg skulle tilbake til Aber. Grunnen til bloggpausen er i hovedsak mangel på internett, innflytting og registrering. Også har jeg kjøpt bil :) Får ikke hente den før forsikringen går i orden, men det blir ikke lenge til, men først skal vi gjøre byen utrygg. Snakkes...

...

She walked past him without noticing. He looked at her, cuursing under his breath. Why did she have to be here? It would not end well, he felt it, an icy feeling in his stomach. He watched her as she approached her friend at the bar. He looked around the room, spotting trouble at once. The guy looked and smelt like trouble (although he could not actually smell him). He approached Analeigh and Juliet, whom had clearly not seen him coming. He felt his muscles tensing up, wanting to interfere, at the same time knowing it would not be appriciated. Analeigh had noticed him now, gesturing to Juliet that they should move, the music much too loud for talking. He felt his intestines squirm as the guy followed them. The girls had stopped now, talking to some girls they knew. They were hugging and smiling. he couldn't help thinking how pretty she was when she smiled, her green eyes shining even more brightly. The guy had stopped too, but was watching them still, looking like he didn't want any attention drawn to himself. A waste of time obviously, being the only guy in here not wearing jeans and a t-shirt. His leather jacket standing out more than his behaviour. Also, he was by far the oldest guy in here, well maybe except the barman, Mr. Rose, who would turn 55 next wednesday. He looked around again, Analeigh and Juliet leaving the other girls and heading for the toilets. What was it with girls anyway, going to the toilet every 10 minutes? Was the girls toilets so much more interesting than the gents?

Svimmel

Alt er uklart. Du reiser deg, men vakler. Kroppen skjelver. All energien er borte, all kraften brukt opp. Musklene arbeider ikke som de skal og du må anstrenge deg for å reise deg opp. Du er svimmel. På en god måte. Gleden starter i magen, du smiler til et mindre pent speilbilde. Svetten siler. Du har tatt den helt ut, og det er herlig.

Karbonadedamen

Karbonadedamen er godt voksen (men det skulle man ikke tro). Hun er på fjelltur med sin mor. Ved ankomst etter tildeling av rom:
Karbonadedamen: -Mamma, kan ikke du kjøpe en pepsi til meg?
Se for deg en femåring som syter, og så ser du for deg en voksen dame som gjør det samme. Ikke veldig sjarmerende...
I dag serveres det fisk på Jøldalshytta. Karbonadedamen spiser ikke fisk. Kokken må lage karbonader. Karbonadedamen får karbonader, hjemmelagde fancy karbonader. Hun vil ha ketchup og jeg slår henne i hodet med en kjevle ,så det får hun. Hun surmuler hele middagen til tross for at hun får spesialbehandling. Da synes jeg den 12-årige gutten som sa "nam" da jeg kom med salaten og som smakte på alt han ble servert var mye voksnere.

I'm back

Da har jeg også kommet meg ned til sivilisasjonen. Her er en liten oversikt over hva jeg har gjort siden sist:

• Opplevd kulde type dongeribukse-under-joggebukse-og-t-skjorte-under fleece-under-hettegenser-kaldt
• Besteget Trollhetta
• Vært med og satt ut garn
• Gjort opp fisk
• Opplevd at tiden går fort samtidig som den går sakte
• Møtt Karbonadedamen (mer senere)
• Stoppet i rutinekontroll av politiet. Null i promille selvsagt ;)
• Opplevd å få besøk av traktor kl 23:50
• Trent til jeg ble svimmel
• Tegnet en stygg hest
• Lært nye uttrykk som;

-Hurtiggrøting

-Kongrokailln (aka spiderman)

-Persille=golfbanestrø

• Funnet skilt til "Fjellheim"
• Fulgt skiltet mot "Fjellheim"
• Lest en barnebok kalt "Uglen som var redd for mørket" av Jill Tomlinson
• Besteget Geithetta
• Snakket engelsk med en spanjol
• Lest Harry Potter bok 3-6
• Falt ned trappa

See you later

Bloggen kommer ikke til å bli oppdatert de nste 4 ukene da jeg skal jobbe på Jøldalshytta. tviler på at de har internett der.
Snakkes.