My mind is a temple and whatnot…

Good morning!  It’s 2 am soon, and that’s technically not morning, but I won’t have time to write here when I get up anyways, so I`m cheating.  Early start in about 5 hours, second seminar on Feminist Writing.  If the teacher is even half as interesting as last time, it’ll be a good day.  If it doesn’t rain, and if my feet stop aching after 4 hours of wandering around with high heeled Sasha Gabor sandals today, it’ll be an even better day!

In short; high hopes and great expectations!

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I may or may not have had a very desirable plot bunny jump right in front of my nose while I was in class today, giving me an idea for what to write my Master’s thesis on (which I`m not supposed to do for another year), and it may or may not have involved comic books, fantasy movies, Satan, and various mythologies.

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Keeping afloat…

Right now I`m watching Medium and feeling much better than earlier today.  I finally started eating more normally again, and it helped me balance out.  I guess I`m doing okay.  Let’s just say that things aren’t going my way.  I am suddenly $15k in debt, and will be out of enough money to pay rent in less than two months.  I can only miss 1-3 seminars in TOTAL all semester, and I don’t even know if attendance was noted on Tuesday.  It was noted today, the first day and introduction of (the third) class.  And most of the other classes are terribly boring.  As in, I don’t even know if I`ve been this bored since I was 12.  I`m floating now, keeping adrift or something. We’ll see.  I really need a job!

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This city is making me ill.

Seriously, though!  I`m gonna go find if I can eat anything.  I`m no longer sure if it’s nerves, stress or hormones (not PMS) or all three together, but whatever it is, I`m sick of it. I`m sick FOR it!  And I`m sick of bursting into tears every few minutes for no better reason. So yeah, I need to fix this.

The nerves make me stop eating, which makes me hormonal, which makes me imbalanced, which in turn makes my nerves go suicidal. (Not me, not yet.)  If food is the (easiest) answer here, then consider me ready for some binging.  Except for the fact that I feel sick, and don’t feel like doing anything like consuming substenance.  In fact, I just want to curl up into a ball and recite poetry, until I forget why I`ve stopped eating (but am still obsessing over food).

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I just found out that I have a double seminar on Tuesdays as well, which I didn’t know of before now (and therefore missed).  I think it opened a dam or something, because now I can’t stop waves of sobbing to wash over me every five minutes or so.  I don’t know what to do!

This was my first seminar and info meeting, and I don’t have access to my page nor my school mail yet.  I`m stuck!  I don’t know if I missed something really important, first day ‘n all!  And I don’t have anyone I can talk to.

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Pardon my wordvomit, I just hate this kind of useless despair.

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Hoarding: Buried Alive

 OMG KILL IT WITH FIRE

EW EW EW!

Du vil ikke TRO hvor ille denne episoden er!  Herregud, dette er så ille at jeg tror det nesten ikke selv!  Æsj og fysj og for et TROLL den damen er, hun ligger på ræva i senga si mens alle andre rydder rundt henne, og KLAGER på alle de som vil hjelpe, og skylder på barna og sier det er dems skyld, når det er HENNES søppel som griser til HELE huset, og HENNES sprøytenåler som ligger på GULVET der barna (nesten voksne, men dog) går.  Nei, jeg klarer ikke engang beskrive hvor ille det er.  Og hun vil IKKE forandre seg, heller.  Skremselsfaktor = 100!

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I`m sitting indian-style, with a fan in front of me, with my laptop balanced half on me and half on an up-side-down clothes hanger resting partly on my one ankle. And yes, that’s exactly as precarious as it sounds.  Also, it’s getting a bit painful.

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I samme sekund som hovedpersonen i lydboken jeg hører på observerte et vogntog passere rett foran bilen hans, så fikk jeg en melding på mobilen som pep til med en tog-lur jeg ikke har hørt før. Det passet så bra inn i historien at jeg et øyeblikk trodde jeg hørte på et radioteater istedenfor en vanlig lydbok.

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Tram Tales

Alternatively, ‘Tales from the Trolley’.

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I don’t think it’s been mentioned here yet, but I have recently moved to Oslo. That’s a completely different horror story, though.  But I`ll include a tiny little link to the GPS  that was tracking my terrible driving, for your viewing pleasure. In my own defense, Oslo is a TERRIBLE city to drive in!  Doing so completely on my own, for my FIRST time?  It’s a bloody miracle I`m still alive, I`m telling you!

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Anyways!

On to the trolley / tram / electric bus or whatever we’re going to call it.

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I haven’t been on a trolley before.  Maybe I traveled once or twice with my dad when I was 4 or 5, but I honestly don’t remember.  I only remember taking the subway with him  and collecting empty bottles for fun and for container deposit legislation reasons but let’s not talk about how I earned my first dollar.

This is the tram in question. Well, one of them. There were two, after all.

The point is, I am completely unfamiliar with this type of transportary vehicle.  It is a mystery to me, in much the same way as using the public bus felt like a ride of terror the first few times.

So I managed to do a few blunders here and there, like calling my cousin twice to confirm I was where I was supposed to be; asking for help three times; getting out of my seat five stops too early… Not to mention getting on the wrong tram on my way back home! Oy vey.  Luckily, I noticed the wrong number in time and got off that trolley to wait for the next (and right) one.  Crisis avoided!   Phew…

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Other stuff that also happened today on the tram:

• We drove past a shawarma joint!  I silently rejoiced.
• I saw a kid falling off his alu scooter. Either that, or his mother slapping him so he fell.  I`m still not sure what exactly happened.
• We had to stop twice for a police car with full lights and alarms going.
• A lady with a baby pram got honked on a lot for crossing the tracks in front of us.  It was actually kinda scary, as we were speeding downhill and had to forcibly hit the brakes to stop in time.

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Learn ALL the poems!

I forgot to post the poem for Sunday.  Well, I’ll write it later.  No big deal.

I am now starting Week 12 of Project Memorizing.  Damn, time flies.

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I absolutely HAVE TO learn Dorothy Parker‘s poems for PM!

Holy crap, does she have a golden pen…  I simply must include her work.

Such priceless gold should not be ignored!

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Happy birthday to me.

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iHomeless

I am now #homeless. Here’s to my first day without a place of my own in four years, as well as the last day of being 22 years old. The times, they are a-changing.

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