Archive for the ‘Uncategorized’ Category
As of this January I am studying at the University of Tromsø, and this semester I have “blindly” chosen three single subjects to study while waiting to start my real degree come fall. The subjects I chose first were Feminist Philosophy and English word and sentence structure. One is due to my interest in feminism and the other is due to my interest in studying english. So I needed one more course to have a full schedule, and I wasn’t quite sure which one to choose.
My “boy”friend suggested Model UN, which I concidered. That was until his friend mentioned another subject: British and American Crime Fiction. A subject involving a lot of reading, a lot of talking about the books and re-reading them, and a written exam that I am dreading. And also: One of the most amazing teachers I have ever had. (This is saying something as I have had some pretty great teachers.)
Last week, which was the first class I attended after missing out on discussing Edgar Allan Poe when I was sick, we talked about the Arthur Conan Doyle-book “The Hound of the Baskervilles”, and the three hours spent in a classroom with a class in which I know no-one and a teacher who is most entertaining and educating had me inspired. I practically ran to the book-store to buy the next book: Agatha Christie’s “The Murder of Roger Ackroyd”, and I started reading that very night.
I have never concidered myself a big fan of murder mysteries, other than CSI and other similar tv-shows. This class is changing me. I love the Agatha Christie-novel, and I even enjoyed the story about the obnoxious Sherlock Holmes and his push-over accomplice Watson. And I can’t wait for todays class, when I will be better prepared than I was for the last class. Not only have I read the book, I also did some online research and read the chapter handed out to us on ideology in writing.
So: How amazing does this class sound?
Hyperactive greetings from a Frida who couldn’t sleep last night, and just has a cold shower to wake properly up.
Morning tunes: Katie Melua – Call off the Search 
Lately I have nauseated the people around me, and probably to some extent the readers, by being insufferably happy. The reason for my happiness is both simple and complex.
Simple version:
I’m in love.
More complex version:
The change in my life, when I moved to Tromsø, gave me a new kind of energy. The new subjects I’m studying are perfect for me. The feeling of finally being in controll of my life and getting somewhere gives me reason to get up in the mornings. And the man who is the object of my most obvious love is kind, caring and (for some reason I still can’t quite grasp the concept of) in love with me as well. Shortly: I’m in love with my life, my subjects and a man.
Oscar Wilde said to “Keep love in your heart. A life without it is like a sunless garden when the flowers are dead. The consciousness of loving and being loved brings a warmth and richness to life that nothing else can bring.” And being a man who sacrificed his social standings, his career and his health all for “The love that dare not speak its name”, another man (which was a criminal offence in England in the 19th century), I’m guessing he knew a little something about love.
My life felt like that sunless garden for some time. It is a cliché to say that love shone a new light, but guess what: There’s a reason to clichés becoming what they are. And the greatest part of it is: The more I love my life, the better it seems to get.
This incredibly happy and optimistic submission is not only my way to force my happiness down your throats, but also an attempt to outweigh my previous life-categorized posts of a more emoistic character (not a word, I know, I made it up…) and to let you all know that I have found happiness. For now, at least, and hopefully one that will last, no matter what the future holds.
Buddha told us that happiness never decreases by being shared, using the metaphor that “Thousands of candles can be lighted from a single candle, and the life of the candle will not be shortened.” I try my best everyday to make people around me happy. I smile, I try not to be mean, and I try to be the best person I can be. I believe that it is everyones shared duty to make the world a better place. And now I feel it returning to me: The joy and the happiness I wish for others are filling my heart, making it even easier for me to smile and be nice. And I can tell you something: This is the best way to be happy. Be happy, share happiness and it will return to you.
Those are my words of wisdom and sickening smugness for the night. I actually did mean for this post to be funny and upbeat, but I guess you’ll have to settle for what you get.
-Frida
Amazing how I can’t find the time, as of late, to write about semi-worthwhile subjects.
I suppose we should talk about Egypt. First of all, I haven’t actually researched what’s going on too in-depth and therefore I probably shouldn’t even be bringing it up, but why the hell not? As a paranoid, pro-“fuck-the-government” kind of person by nature, I have to side with the protesters. I would estimate that about 99.99999999999% of the time, government is fucking with its citizens. Revolution is a beautiful thing. That attitude of standing up for yourself against the big bad monster is simply…liberating. Of course, I might not feel the same way if I were the one(s) in power, but seeing as most citizens of planet Earth will never, ever, be the ones in power, I think it’s safe to say most of us feel the same. Naturally, there are those few dumb-asses that look at what’s happening on the news and say, “Those damn Arabs are always causin’ some kinda trouble!” (I may or may not unfortunately live in the same household as one said dumbass.) If they simply weren’t ignorant as all get out, they, too, would be on the side of the protesters. You know, that makes me think about Republicans- but that’s a whole different blog that should be saved for another day.
Being that I live in America and share a household with average Americans, I get to witness a variety of, how I shall I say, political absurdities. For instance, the news has made a bigger deal over the fact that Angelina Jolie’s schedule for filming a movie about Cleopatra will now be delayed due to the protests, than the actual protests themselves! WTF, man. Perhaps this is why most Americans (including myself) are poorly informed on just about everything. “Freedom of the press,” yes yes, but at what point do we reign them in and say, “Tell me the fucking truth!?” I will admit that I, myself, am aware that I could actually go seek the truth out there on the wild internet frontier and that I am just too lazy at the moment to do so, but that’s just me. Most people actually take their news for news. Sad, but true.
Well, in two paragraphs I’ve managed to blaspheme America, American news, government in general, and even Angelina Jolie.
My job here is done.
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I’ve kind of been getting into semi-crappy rock music lately. I won’t name names, I’ll just say that the bands in my current iTunes playlist are way worse than Tool, but not nearly as bad as Nickelback.
In other news, I don’t know what to do with myself this weekend. I shall have the house to myself from approximately 3:00 PM on Saturday- 10:00 AM on Sunday. I do have dinner plans with one of my besties on Saturday night, but other than that- nothing. Having a party is out of the question, seeing as I am uber-paranoid about our cats getting outside and running away/getting hit by the constant street-traffic. Hm.
Possibilities:
#1- Get drunk off my ass, by myself, while watching various YouTube vids.
#2- Somehow formulate some type of socializing event to attend.
#3- Shave my vajayjay and call it a night.
Or possibly all of the above?
Decisions, decisions.
Gah. I want to go on vacation soooooo bad. Vancouver, BC would be amazing. There are two reasons why Spokane sucks for a 20-year old: a.) Inability to legally drink, and b.) Shitty music scene. Vancouver is just plain awesome, they have this whole entertainment district that has many, many live venues and concert halls where surprisingly decent bands perform for like $10. Plus, the drinking age in BC is 19 so…..drinky drinky!
Well, I’m off to the store to get some bell peppers and joy. Toodles!
Sippin’ on gin and juice!
Literally, I am.
I’m getting crizunk tonight, bitches!