Ice cubes are srs bsns in this household TYVM

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31.05.13 @ 4.20 am

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30.05.13

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29.05.13

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27.05.13 @ 17.25

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Did I mention I HATE warm temperatures?

Oslo is THE WORST!

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18.05.13

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17.05.13

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You had ONE JOB, duvet cover!

ONE JOB!  And that was to keep me warm and snuggly and toasty and happy. Welp, YOU FAILED.  And don’t you go blaming me, this time!  I know I sometimes kick you off during the night, or tangle you beyond recognition; But not this night!  I was completely under your cover as I apparently started freezing in the early hours, going so cold that my brain, instead of waking me up, sent me into very unhelpful REM sleep,  aka a nightmare.   #ScumbagBrain

Here’s the nightmare mix:

The premise of the Hunger Games (though without the technology and actual death), with apathetic teammates (we were divided in two) who gave up on life, I kid you not, when eating blueberries became too much effort to keep alive. The setting was that of my childhood cabin in the woods, with said woods being more like a swamp than the boreal forest, although plentiful blueberries were apparently a thing.  Add my sister’s horse (with my sister for a very short while), which I had to ride through a big underground cement parking lot, which was my only tool for saving the now-apathetic douchnozzles.  Then add in a cameo by Hannibal Lecter (old Hopkins!Lecter, not hot Mikkelsen!Lecter, more’s the pity) at the end, just to tie everything up in the creepiest bow there ever was.

I finally woke up after quite a long time in my horrifying REM AU, freezing my proverbial balls off.  After checking the clock (which told me that it was much earlier than I usually wake up) and figuring out how to cocoon myself successfully without going back to sleep (I was still terrified), I finally warmed up.  I figured I might as well wake up now and pay by staying zombiefied for the rest of the day.  Heck, maybe I`ll even fall asleep a bit earlier next time.

.

You had one job, duvet.  ONE JOB!

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12.05.13

It’s not that late in the evening here, but I am acting as if it’s 2 am and as if I have had a drink (or three), giggling at everything because everything is silly and I find everything hilarious.

I haven’t slept properly in a week, which probably accounts for the obvious sleep-deprivation and minor headaches, but I have been in such a good mood that I simply don’t care, just drinking my tea to quell my raging sweet-tooth.

I also finished a fic just now that I only read because the tags said “Moral Ambiguity & vaguely gay european scooters” and I was intrigued.  Then the author notes at the end were just.. “The original conclusion in my outline for this was, I shit you not, THEY STEAL VESPAS TO REPRESENT LIBERATION FROM MORALISTIC OPPRESSION OR WHATEVER” and it took me several minutes to stop laughing.  Well, giggling like a moron, more like it.  I`ve been giggling like a moron all day.

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Pastel Contrasts

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I resisted the urge to title this something EMO

I haven’t been home since Christmas time.  I have been holed up in my nice little apartment in the big city, doing pretty much nothing, without a single trip home to break the monotony of being non-productive.

Things were starting to look up last month, as a plan to travel home for a few days started to form.  May was to be my visiting month.  Then things really started to look good, as my dad agreed to drive by and pick me up while at the same time picking up a load of boxes stuffed with my stuff (as I will move out of here this summer).  It was the perfect opportunity, as I finally had a week off from school as well.  I made plans, something I don’t often bother to do.  I called my stepsis, and we had a conversation (written mostly in CAPS and exclamation points) where we gleefully pondered all the things we would do together (mostly involving Vikings and Tumblr-related conversation).

Then the SMS comes.  My dad has bad news: Since my brother is visiting home that exact same week, there’s nowhere for me to stay.  I can come after he’s gone, of course, but not this weekend.

I message my brother to figure this out, because we didn’t know our plans coincided.  First he asks me; since I`m supposed to go the same time as he is, if I want to travel with him.  This makes me so happy I almost start crying.  I tell him about my dad’s plans.  He reminds me about there being no space. Realization hits me, and I almost start crying again.  He then implies that he thinks it’d be awesome if we both could go at the same time. My tears start spilling at this point.  But I have finally realized fully what “no space” means, and have started resigning to the fact that my week will not come to pass.

Dad still wants to pick up my stuff this weekend.  He’s going to drive by, take a bunch of my stuff, and then leave me here.  I think that’s the worst part.  Not that my week home has been shortened so significantly that I might as well cancel the whole thing, having to message my school buddies who already postponed our group work sessions because of me, telling my stepsis that our weekend is blown, but that my dad is going to drive into the big city to pick up my stuff and then leave me.

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