princessXdownfall's Journal

Isn't it annoying, how you always plan on doing things, but never get around to actually doing it? Lately, I've become a master at procrastinating. Those who read my story must have noticed that the updates are fewer than before. (But when it comes to stories, I'm not just being lazy, I promise.)

See, I even got a new editor. She bites me whenever I make mistakes (and when she feels like it, when she's hungry, and when she wants to go out, play, or just want a bit of attention).
http://i109.photobucket.com/albums/n61/alinaXstrange/Myneweditor.jpg


Yesterday, we performed the Christmas Oratorio by Bach. 'Twas fun, even the high bits. I've expanded my vocal range to F3-F6 now, and I'm proud.

Do you feel like broadening your musical horizon? Have a listen to the first song from the score. "Jauchzet, frolocket!"
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k0AH_0xpaJQ


Something I find a bit funny, happened while we were warming up our purty voices. I stood beside this man and was so freaking annoyed that one of the extra singers who had been invited to sing with us, sang better(as in using better techniques)than me. I didn't like the feeling of being less a singer than someone who didn't take lessons every week. My self-confidence kinda died.

Then it turned out he wasn't an extra singer. He was one of the professional opera singers we had hired. Self-confidence restored.

While I'm talking about the opera singers, I've to say they were superb. The woman who sung the solo alto parts had such confidence; the baritone had such a wonderful rich deep voice (he's on my "to-kidnap"-list now); and even the tenor had a lovely voice! Normally, I don't like tenors, thinking they strive too much when they sing, but this one had a perfect voice.


Enough about singing. If you saw the title, you're probably wondering where the ZOMBIES! are. I've been meaning to post my Halloween pictures, but till now I've forgot about it. So here they are :3

http://i109.photobucket.com/albums/n61/alinaXstrange/S7000721.jpg
A close-up of some of the makeup I put on one of my best friends.

http://i109.photobucket.com/albums/n61/alinaXstrange/S7000729.jpg
Here's me, about to eat my mad scientist's brain or get my brains blown out (notice her gun).

http://i109.photobucket.com/albums/n61/alinaXstrange/S7000718.jpg
http://i109.photobucket.com/albums/n61/alinaXstrange/S7000719.jpg
While I was putting on a bandage, Mau decided to help. Instant pain. (And no, she's not wearing a costume. She had been to the vet. But we did joke about her being an escapee from the mental ward; it looked like she was in a strait-jacket.)

Since I doubt I'll post another journal entry till... February, I'll just say Happy Christmas :3

I should be asleep. But of course, as school starts tomorrow, I am wide awake and online. Traditions never change, do they?

I've got a new neighbour. I didn't mean to scare him, I swear.


On the up-side, there will be regular updates from now on - that's if the world doesn't go splooch when they start up the Large Hadron Collider. Don't do like me and check what date you should fear.
I like mad scientists, but I prefer the Dr. Frankensteins. They are less inclined to wipe out the universe, if you get my drift. This kinda ---

I had to stop to remove my cat from my head.

--- ruins all my plans of taking over the planet.Maybe I can set my ebul and sinister---

Aaand kitty is back on my shoulders. I give up.

--- plans in motion earlier. I just need more members in my army. We are thirteen people so far, but if you wanna join and get a country, feel free. (Norway, Sweden, Finland and Ireland are already taken though.)


I was going to bed early. I logged off, tuned my guitar and sat down to play a little. I even managed to fasten a new string at my first attempt. I be proud.
But I was still not tired. Blah. Ramble.

So I took a shower, and probably woke up my poor neighbour.

I have pearls in my hair. At least that's what my shampoo says. Pearl extract. How the hell do you get extract from pearls, really?I think they are foolingus around.
Anyway, apparently my kitty likes it ' cause she sits on my shoulder, licking my hair. I had a towel wrapped around my hair - and she first jumped onto my shoulders, and then climbed up on top of my turban. It was one of the moments you really wish you had a camera.

She likes my hair a lot. Yesterday I woke up in the middle of the night because she was eating it. She's gonna hurl some massive hairballs if she doesn't stop. Maybe there's catnip in my shampoo.

Hmph. Now I'm tired. Finally. Natta.

Ah, summertime. Endless sunny days. Someone hand me something pointy, I hate the sun.

In other news, it's been some time since I updated my journal. In the meantime, I've gotten the world's most adorable bundle of evil - Mau or Minerva McSnurp the Bloodthirsty.
Usually I just call her miss Kitty Fantastico. Even though I've had kitty for a month and two days today, I still have to find her a proper name. Maybe "M" would be fitting, since both her names start with that letter.

I love her to bits and pieces. She shows me affection by tearing me to bits and pieces.


http://i109.photobucket.com/albums/n61/alinaXstrange/whateveygajkn047.jpg
(She might look innocent, but some days ago, she scared the living shit of a cat five times her size.)


Thanks to Lulu (blackenedlily),I got my behind into gear and started rewriting Traditions. Now I have some parts ready and regular updates can be expected every Monday for at least nine weeks.

I keep telling myself not to tackle Lulu and thank her for giving me the writing spark (whatever that is) back, but I don't think I'm listening to myself.

-insert ending here-

I sit down to write in this journal whenever I feel like I have something to tell about, something important, smart or just funny. But not tonight, not at one am this morning.

I've just had a nice week.

People should allow them to feel happiness. Know what the artists of the romantic era said? "Dort wo du bist nicht, dort ist das Glück." For those of you who know less German than I do, it means "Happiness is where you aren't."
Do you recognise yourself in that quote?

"If I only ace that test, if I only get that promotion, if I only get enough money to buy that car, if only... then I'll be happy," a lot of people seem to think. "If only."

Money, power and the right friends. Poor creatures.

I've danced around the living room to classical music, looking like a lunatic, but it made me feel happy - yes, caffeine definitely helped that feeling. Sometimes I randomly say "Know what, I'm happy."
Now I am a pretty easily amused, so it works for me. According to some other people, I should be deep in depression, and though I sometimes am, I have my bright days too. My jems. I collect memories, you know?

Walking to school, carrying notes, note-book and other shit I don't really need, cheers me up. (Okay, I admit that the walking-to-school-part wasn't very funny due a pair of shoes and too much ice, snow and water on the road, but the school-part was fun this week.)

My teacher in piano: chords, lets me play a Captain Sabretooth song.
We're putting up a jazz-mass, "Meditatus". The composer was cool.
I've been pwned by an eleven-year-old in Guitar Hero. ("What, you're supposed to press the white thingy?)
My piano-teacher gave me a cool new song. I'm a bear. Rawr.
My vocal coach gave me the score of "In Dreams" from the 'Breaking of the Fellowship'.
Poets of the Fall. New CD. Need I say more?
I've seemed to be more open. (?) I feel like myself again.  

And the unexpected turn of the week: the plumbing in my house died. The floor outside my apartment has been removed, and there's a half-metre deep hole right outside my door, and it's got a cavern-ish look. Going into the kitchen is a whole mission in itself - and it's incredibly cool.


Back to the subject of happiness.
I took the trash out thirty minutes ago. It took me a moment to notice that it was snowing, and another one to remember that I was only wearing my night-clothes.

I danced around the snow. In pink pants with furry kittens on. Still holding the trashbag.

Don't come tell me I need a posh car to be happy.

Now I have to go to bed and get some sleep before going to school (or rather, end up at hospital because I forgot about the hole outside my door, and fall down...)

Oh don't I love living ten metres away from where northern Norway's largest rock festival is held. The house shakes, no lies.  

Rock Mot Rus (lit. "Rock Against Drugs") celebrated its 25th anniversary last year. It lasts for two days, and each year around fifty teenage bands compete to win the rock-competition. While they do, they get to perform in front of a large audience, form contacts within the mysterious world of music ... and watch famous bands perform. This year, the really big guys were Dimmu Borgir.
Turboneger (Norwegian spelling, mind you!) A-HA, Gåte and My Midnight Creeps have been there before too, and a lot of bands have started up there. Take Madrugada for an example. (Seriously, YouTube them, else I will do something very nasty to you...)

... and it's one of the few places I can go and see lots and lots of other people who dress in black. Yay, no grandmothers who glare at me! (Because they saw that guy with the dreads and corpse-paint and fainted!) I am normal, woot!
The first time I was there, there was this emo-craze, but that is fading to die now. Can't say I mourn it - goths tend to wear more leather, these Matrix-ish trenchcoats and... err, you know I'm not saying no to discreetly ogle guys in leather kilts.

I skipped the first day this year, mostly because I didn't bother waste money on artists I had never heard of. So I sat at home, listening to Leiv Ove Andsnes' "Ballad for Grieg". (Grieg is the most famous Norwegian classic composer. Go listen, pronto!)
But Saturday was going to be... mediocre, I thought. I bought a pass, and Priscalia and I walked in and out of the hall all day. Had to support bands from out school, you know. I also realised tht I have inherited my grandparents' force-feed-people genes. I invited a girl from class home for dinner and ended up... almost force-feeding her. I be really sorry.

Then came the night. Since we didn't know any bands that were playing, we stayed at home and watched "Bridget Jones's Diary". We so shouldn't have. I was half an inch away from having a bloody laughing fit halfway into Dimmu's performance because I suddenly realised that Galder (one of the guitarists) looked like Bridget's uncle Geoffrey and I had lots and lots of sugar that day :3

And I am stupid, there is no doubt about that. Would you have worn a real corset and high heeled shoes if you knew you were going to a rock concert? Probably not, I hope. I thought that the 10 cms/4 inch heels would kill me, but I didn't even notice I was wearing them. Damn, I love those shoes! After standing for an hour and a half, my legs were starting to tire a little, but that was it. (However, walking home was not fun - high heels on an inch-thick layer of ice... just imagine it... and laugh.)

Two hours before Dimmu were scheduled on stage we walked/tottered to the venue and sat down in the back. At eleven, El Caco came on - another band you should look up. I'm a bit ashamed to say I'm no big fan of these bands. I just know about them. True fans would glare and call me a poseur, me guessed. (No, wait, they would have killed me for the title I put on this journal post, first...)

I will never get why the big bancs have to be at least ten minutes late. Why keep the audience waiting? It doesn't build up excitement, people get restless! Some even left. And they had two encores. Why leave in the middle of the set and pretend they were going...? It was like watching a classical music concert and wanting to kill the conductor for walking in and out between each piece.
Other than that, it was pretty awesome. We ended up close to the stage, even though we had plans of sitting down and just listen.

Apparently, Shagrath is very fond of making the crowd chant "Oy, oy!" and I'm not sure if I like it. From what I have gathered about about the Black Metal scene, one goal of the Black Metaller is to seperate himself from the commom (Christian?) crowd. It's hard to see the individuality in moshing and waving your hands around in the rhythm someone else gives you. Rant over.

I think a unison gasp passed through the crowd when Shagrath suddenly talked normally. What a pleasant voice. He should have been in radio (not singing/growling/sceaming), or read audio books. I'm sure fans would be interested in him reading Nasjonalsatanisten (the National Satanist, book concerning the BM scene in the 90's. Written by Erlend Erichsen, former drummer in Gorgoroth).

... but then I figured out why it isn't a very good idea to be standing some inches taller than everyone else. People tend to notice you. When they finished, I suddenly locked eyes with the drummer - who chucked his drumstick at me.
Way to go! Throw band-memorabilia real fans would go crazy over, at the one person who doesn't want it at all! (I might have been interested if he had included a second stick and a drum, though.)
But I was way luckier than the guy who got stick nr. two. According to rumours, the drumstick went up his nose. Got no idea of how that could have happened, but it's amusing.

Now I really got to stop talking about RMR or else I will have to report myself for advertising XD

Caffeine, tea, knitting, painting purty flowers, toffee, candy, Damian Lewis on TV tonight... I am happy.

... and someone might ask me why I basically tell you where I'm living. Am I not afraid of stalkers? Well, I am sadistic, and I am paranoid, and a bit hyper... and I have a sword beside my bed.

You have no idea of how happy I am at the moment. Yes, the chocolate I awarded myself with yesterday (I'm still working on eating it), does have something to do with my cheery mood, but I'm not just hyper.

Guess whose birthday it was yesterday? Yayness, I am finally eighteen, and an adult, according to Norway's wonderful and sometimes completely useless laws.

Finally I can order CDs from cdon.com. Last time I tried, the site told me that I had to be eighteen. Mwahaha, let's see who triumphs this time, I said to myself yesterday and went a tiny bit over the top when I found a lot of music I liked. I barely managed to stop myself before going bananas. "I can resist anything but temptation", said Oscar Wilde. At least I think he was the one who said that.


I am also very happy because I'm writing. A lot. On stories! That doesn't happen often. Till now I've finished four parts of my new story, Surviving the Day, and I've managed to write over 2000 words today. (The story is set in the Alex Rider universe, but will have no Alex Rider. I have big plans of posting when Quizilla has changed. Else than that, I've posted two chapters at Mibba.com, just to start up my account there.)

Normally I manage a hundred max, before I am distracted by something else. I'm very happy my internet was gone this "morning". (I woke up at two pm. after going to bed at five in the morning... don't I love not having to go to school...)

Also, I'm happy the story I'm working on, is coming together like it does. I've worked on it since April, and I can't even say how satisfying it is to know that the whole plot is worked out and woven together, and the whole shit makes perfect sense. Wootness.
I just want to dance, and believe me, I do.


At last, I hope everyone has had a wonderful day. Although I'd really like to have an Anti-Valentine's Day (where you tell people how much you hate them), it's nice to see that there's love out there.

Now, I am going to go work on that short story I'm going to send into a writing-contest :3

Yep. It's almost a year since last time.

Although I haven't posted anything in over a month, I am still alive. I've gotten some messages asking why I am such a lazy bum (okay, the people who messaged, didn't exactly say that, but it was close) and I might as well admit it.
I'm depressed, have low energy and don't really care about anything. That sounded emo, right? Ugh.

My great grandmother died last Saturday and I kind of have difficulties coping with that. It sort of ruins some of the Christmas celebrations, but heck, no one can decide when to die (except for those taking their own lives).
On the brighter side, I might be able to sneak into the church before the ceremony and try the church organ.

It's almost Christmas, and today is the last day in two weeks I will have a constant internet connection. No internet means no posting.

And, last, I have started thinking about trying to publish something. If I want to achieve that, I will have to send stuff to Norwegian publishers, thus I will have to write in Norwegian.
I'm working on a new story I am hoping to turn into a novel. I'll use Christmas break to write it out.

On a lighter note; I got my Norwegian story back from my teacher today and finally, got a 5+ I never knew I would actually like writing science fiction. Woot.

So, to sum it up, I have a lot of things on my mind. I don't want to post anything I'm not one hundred percent satisfied with, so Tatiana and Vladimir will have to wait some more.
However, to relieve those who really can't live without them, here's Vlad singing a Christmas carol:

http://www.keller.com/bass/OHolyNight.mp3

Happy whatever-you-are-celebrating.

I wonder what makes a human plan to massacre a lot of people. I don't want to think about what the person must have gone through to actually make that decision.
Bullying the so-called "losers" at your school can have fatal consequences. Think before you act.


But anyway, it has happened again. A school student has opened fire in a classroom and killed at least one person, believed to be the principal. Swedish and Finnish media, says that six to seven persons are found dead. They don't know whether the eighteen-year-old shooter is among the dead yet.
Poor man, I think, knowing the families of those he killed don't agree with me.

It's surreal that the thing I was worried about around noon today, was a meeting with my shrink. At another school were people my age fighting for their lives - in Scandinavia!
Here's where the Norwegian hypocrisy comes into the picture; when something like this happens across the sea, in America, we say it's a pity but we feel safe and think "It won't happen here". And then it happens in one of our neighbouring countries. Again. Our bubbles burst.


"Will I ever have to worry about someone in class suddenly drawing a weapon?" I don't like standing face to face to that question, and make a note of being nice to everyone I see - just in case.


Then comes the question what to do with this. The young Finnish man actually posted a video on YouTube yesterday. "Jokela High School Massacre".
Although I haven't seen the video, someone must have noticed it. Someone must have known about it.

Could someone have stopped him?


http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jokela_School_shooting

I am looking forward to tomorrow so much I'm acting like a little kid. You can blame it on the white chocolate I just cosumed.

The costume is 99,99% finished. I just have to glue some incredibly long nails onto my hands, paint them metallic (I'm a perfectionist when it comes to this!) and then paint my hands black. I bought this set of hundred nails because they were longer and cheaper than the "french manicure" sets they sold. Now I'm wondering what the hell I am going to do with the other 90 nails I won't ever use... -_-'

French manicure my ugly bum... why does it say "Made in Taiwan"?

BUT I WILL BE ABLE TO CLAW PEOPLE, MWAHAHA!

In case you don't notice it - I am smiling at the moment.


Sorrowfully I didn't get the time to make the gauntlets, and I skipped the boots too. I'll be wearing high heels instead. It generates the "click-clock" sound the Nazgûl get when they walk, and it makes me taller. I'll be ten centimetres taller than usual and tower over other people (who are lower than 1,87 m that is). Those who know me, know that this makes me very happy.

Woot.


Some hours ago, I tried the costume on and managed to walk around with it. I have to say I was very satisfied with the shredding.
Considering I was wearing seventeen metres of textile, had a really long sword attached to my waist and was balancing on ten cms long heels, I think I did well.

I can't wait to see my math-teacher's face tomorrow. I just hope she doesn't faint... (or, well, to be honest a widdle part of me hopes that. I was absent last Wednesday and didn't get the task the others have to deliver tomorrow...)

Talking about that; I should really be working on a task I have due tomorrow now, but I don't exactly care about Norwegian kings from the middle ages at the moment. I could tell my teacher my fell-beast ate my hand-in.

I even managed to scare my neighbour today, but that's just what happens when you come home with some litres of blood you decide to store in the fridge. I am easily amused, I tell you.
But I have no idea of what to make of the blood I bought. Thursday I'll check for recipes at one of the vampire-forums I'm member of (No, I'm no Sanguinarian.).

However, I was scared today too. I spotted these fliers hanging on all doors around school. They read "Pimp and Hoe" and I thought people at school were told to dress up like that tomorrow. Promptly I got nightmarish visions of it, and considered spending tomorrow hidden under my bed, socializing with the dust-bunnies.
I was luckily smart enough to read the rest, and understood that they will arrange a party at Saturday, and people can dress up like "pimps" and "hoes" there. Phew, I tell you. Phew!


Hyper, hyper, hyper!
I can't wait to walk outside tomorrow, walking up to random people and hissing, "Have you seen my fell-beast? I parked her right here just  a moment ago..."

While I walked home with Jack the Second, my new pumpkin, I got a new idea. Imagine a Nazgûl standing on the street, holding a sign saying "Free hugs".

Yup, tomorrow is going to be a funny day. 

I really have to go do that assignment now. Although I will be armed with a flail, a long and heavy sword and the Nazgûls' Black Breath, my teacher in history has made jokes about killing people with axes. I am not willing to take that chance. 

After that, I am going to watch the LotR and read funny facts about the movies. Nerd-alert, nerd-alert!

... and the new Alex Rider book is coming tomorrow. Snakehead! Woot.... too much chocolate.

Today I noticed another chain letter. I didn't have the heart to report it, although the persons who posted them are stupid to think that a petition that works like a chain letter will actually work and do something.

"Stray dogs are being skewered on hooks and dragged behind boats as live shark bait. The cruel practice takes place on French-controlled Reunion Island in the Indian Ocean.
A six-month-old Labrador was recently found alive, with a double hook through its snout and another through its leg. It is thought to have somehow freed itself from a fishing line, but other dogs and cats have been chomped up and swallowed by sharks."

Sure I pity the dogs and kittens, but another thought quickly surfaced. The sharks are killed too, but there is no petition for saving them.
What's wrong, why don't we care?

Okay, so the kittens and puppies are cuter and fluffier than the sharks, and we might have good reasons to stay out of water when a Great White swims past, but that doesn't mean we should kill them. Every shark longer than two metres is a potential threat (smaller sharks see the big human and flee) to a human being, but divers often forget that smaller sharks also have teeth and do not like to be petted or touched in any way.

In fact, sharks rarely attack humans if not provoked. A live human wouldn't seem very tempting, as we aren't part of their menu.
As it happens, sharks don't have hands, so they use their teeth to inspect unfamiliar objects. On top of that, some sharks hunt in murky water where they only can use their inner "sonar" to find prey.

"Oops, that tasted like shit!" thinks the shark and spits out the terrified diver/swimmer/surfer/idiot who provoked it, and swims away. (Yes, I know there are unprovoked attacks too.)


They aren't mindless eating-machines like how they are depicted in the movies. Sharks are intelligent creatures and have the skill to solve problems. They have even shown engaging in playful activities, have a complex social system and they are too curious for their own good.
But they have huge teeth, that's the problem right?


Media hasn't helped the shark's bad reputation. I read somewhere that the best-selling story line in tabloids is "Shark eats man", although in reality, it's the other way around.
They are sold as fish 'n chips in Australia. Flakes?! Yuck!
Shark fin soup is on the top of my list over things I hate, mostly because the method the fishermen use when they catch the animals is gruesome. When they catch a shark, it's pulled p on deck to have its fins cut off with a hot knife - then it's released again, to drown or be eaten by another shark. This is probably what happens to the sharks outside Reunion Island.
The dogs might be meeting a violent end, but it happens quickly.

As if the finning isn't enough, they are also hunted by sportsmen and hung up on piers while the sporty men stand beside the shark and feel superior.

I don't know if something is wrong with me - I just happen to like the streamlined shape, and see another side of them. I admit that I wouldn't be too happy if I ever met one, but then again I don't think anyone would be thrilled to face one of them. They happen to be an important key in the oceans, as they eat dead whales etc. If it weren't for them, you wouldn't have dared to dip as much as a toe out in the water, afraid some rotting cadaver would attack you.
They have been around for about a ten million years, and I hope we can keep them till we blow up the planet or something.

For those of you who still pity the Labrador; dogs have killed 144 humans in the US from 2001 to 2006. Sharks have only killed eleven.

Dog-paw soup... sounds good, doesn't it?

You have no idea how happy this strange girl is. Well, not exactly happy, but content, very content with life. (At the moment that is, I guess I will be depressive, going on hyper in the next five minutes.)

If you heard a scream, coming from Norway, some hours ago - it was me. I found that my sword had arrived in the mail, and I only had to go down to the post office to fetch it. I think I broke the speed limit when I cycled into town to get it.

Narsil is mine!

And for you retards who don't know what Narsil is - it is the very blade that cut the One Ring from Sauron's hand. Later, it was "reincarnated" as Andúril, the Flame of the West and handed over to Isildur's heir.
(If you don't know what/who Sauron, Isildur or his heir are, please PM me. My lovely mini-balrog has finally returned from "Balrog Boot-camp", and he's become an adorable, little bundle of evil [I am so proud!] and he could use a new toy- I mean a new friend, of course...)

I am going to be a Nazgûl for All Hallow's Eve (and day!) , and I am currently working on the costume. So far, I haven't finished anything, but I still have forty-seven days on me to do it. My mace is almost finished (it only needs another layer of paint and a stick, so I can hold it...), I have the base-layer of the cloak aaand I have figured how to cover my face when in the costume.
Other than that, I am starting on the gauntlets as soon as I figure out what to use. What sounds better - metal from soda-cans or cardboard I can paint on? (While using soda-cans will make it look like metal, I hate sodas. Maybe I can bribe someone else into drinking the soda for me. Any volunteers?)


Is anything else going on in my life? No, absolutely not.
This rambling about Nazgûls have made me more aware of LotR-fanfiction. When spotting another "You're-the-tenth-member-of-the-Fellowship-and-you're-like-in-love-with-Leggypoo-and-you're-teh-prettiest-elf-evah-and-you-have-a-ring!!!"-fic I almost lunged at the screen. My nose was a scary fifteen centimetres away when I realised that I was acting... strange, but then again, had lovely Jadey-poo shown me the worst slash-fanfic ever the day before.
Hmm... in need of bleach... was traumatized... poor Hobbits.


I am wondering whether to stop brushing my teeth now. After all, the Nazgûl had the Black Breath and were able to spread plagues... and if I want my costume to be as good as possible...  


Well, it's time to say "the end". My mace needs that new layer of paint.

I'm happy and feel incredibly content at the moment. If every human being in the world felt like this every day, we wouldn't have wars over money, power or religion.

School started today. I got out of bed pretty easily and had plenty of time before I had to drag my bum off to school. We started at 12 am - lucky, or I would have been in coma... I loaned "The Wish List", by Eoin Colfer of a friend yesterday and stayed up because I didn't want to put it down.

Must read... can't... sleep...

I showed up at school when I was supposed, listened to the principal's speech and followed the rest of my class into the classroom. We're getting a new one, and I don't like that. It'll never be the same again.
Then after getting our schedules and checking what subjects we're going to have this year (lots of music [we are going to learn how to compose!], history, Norwegian, mathematics [nooo!], Spanish, geography [ehe, someone's so screwed] and social studies), we went to say hello to the new students.

Førstiser.

After introducing ourselves (Alina, singer, second-grader), we played a game involving singing and dancing. I love drama - too bad we're through with those classes.

Then, suddenly the day was over.

Priscalia and I met our former Norwegian teacher, Torill. Apparently she doesn't want to teach our class any longer because of what some of the guys said about her.
I am going to miss her a lot, she is a brilliant teacher.

Got a hug though :)


Went down to the mall with some wonderful friends and had loads of fun.

When I was at the supermarked for the second time (to buy what I had forgot the first time), I was startled when Priscalia suddenly jumped out on me and said, "If I had been an assassin, you would have been dead."
The one time I don't pay attention to my surroundings - and she sees me. I'll have to change my habits. Apparently I'm not as bright as I think I am. I must pay better attention to people around me so they don't jump at me.

It was fun to fall down and pretend I was dead, though.

I got new shoes. High heels on 'em too. They are killing me, but they are so nice ^_^
Besides, my grandparents told me to buy a new pair. Too bad (for them) that they failed to say what kind I should get.

Me am happy.


Tomorrow, I'll talk to my former English teacher and ask if I can take up English again, as a private student. There is just no school without English.

Oww, my feet. Pity them.

... aaand suddenly school's over for this year. Well, almost that is. I have two lessons left.
Officially we're schooling till Friday, but we don't have to go to school the two last days unless we have something special to do... like my singing lesson tomorrow.

I haven't touched my guitar in two weeks and in about two hours I'll have to tell my teacher that I haven't really rehearsed the song I was supposed to play. On the other hand, the A-string was acting up on me.
At the moment I'm sitting, looking smug because I just managed to fasten it the way it's supposed to be. I discovered that I had made a mistake when I was supposed to tune it and the string nearly slipped out of the bridge.

"Damn it, I'm going to figure out how to do this even if I have to use glue!"

Note that I would never actually do something like that to my beloved Anon. My teacher, mother and soon-to-be stepfather would have killed me, not to forget - I'd be suicidal.  


It's still hard to believe that I got an A in English. (Yeah, I'm boasting, but I don't care.)

Our self-proclaimed-genius of an English teacher might have hit his head... or perhaps he's just demonstrating, like he obviously did one time.

I wrote an essay about "The Moose and the Sparrow";
"I don't think I like Moose either. I wouldn't have killed him though. Well, perhaps... but don't tell anyone."

He read my essay aloud to the whole class.


The teacher who teaches Norwegian brought chocolate cake today, so we love her very much. I was worried she might have poisoned the cake. (Half of the class has been talking behind her back - till some guys in class went too far by joking about killing and raping her. I felt the urge to 'research' some deadly poisons when they did and I wasn't planning on testing it on lab-rats.)

She gave us this wonderful poem (and gave me a B in Norwegian), that I want to share with the... perhaps two persons who understand it.

(Note; I'm not the best when it comes to translating things. I'm not used to switching between English and Norwegian and think I might have several errors that Word didn't catch. ...I hope Jacobsen never sees this, or else I am dead meat.)

NOEN, av Rolf Jacobsen                   Someone, by Rolf Jacobsen

Noen                                                Someone
stiger ut av vårt liv, noen                 walks out of our lives, someone
kommer inn i vårt liv,                        comes into our lives,
ubedt og setter seg ned,                 without an invitation and sits down,
noen                                                 someone
går likegyldige forbi, noen                walks past; not caring, someone
skjenker deg en rose,                      gives you a rose,
kjøper en ny bil,                                buys a new car,
noen                                                 someone
står deg meget nær, noen               is close to your heart, someone
har du alt glemt,                              is already forgotten,
noen, noen                                      someone, someone
er deg selv,                                      is yourself,
noen                                                someone
har du aldri sett, noen                     you never have seen, someone
spiser asparges, noen                     eats asparagus, someone
er barn,                                            are kids,
noen går opp på taket,                    someone walks on the roof-tops
sitter ved et bord,                            sits by a table,
ligger i hengekøye, går med rød      lies in a paddock, has a red
paraply,                                            umbrella,
noen ser på deg,                             someone looks at you
noen har aldri lagt merke til deg, noen  someone has never noticed you, someone
vil holde deg i hånden, noen               someone wants to hold your hand, someone
døde i natt,                                       died last night,
noen er andre, noen er deg, noen    someone is others, someone is you, someone
er ikke,                                              don't exist
noen er.                                            some does.

Extraordinary, isn't it...?

Well, someone must toddle off now. I got a song to rehearse.

'ello, my freaky darlings.

I can't access my beloved account, Irmela, any longer. I've waited nine days for the wonderful administrators here at Quizilla to help me, but I'm afraid they all have died and left us on our own. Good riddance.

Anyway, this left me with quite a problem; those god damned stories.
A person pointed out to me that this would be the perfect opportunity to rid myself of some stories I am rather... unsatisfied with. I won't do that. Not when I am this close to finishing it. Also; I'd rather stand for my mistakes.

To make a long story a bit shorter; I've decided to post 'The Traditions of Love and Hate' and 'A Meeting in the Dark' here. Complains are welcome, although I doubt anyone cares very much.
This means that 'Confessions of a darkened soul' and 'More than a Vampire Heart' are on hiatus. I'll continue them after I've finished 'A Meeting...'

And, yes, I'm ashamed over myself for doing this. But I seriously don't have the time to be on Quizilla all day. I'm moving from two places at once, I have my exams coming up now and I have discovered that I actually have a life outside Quizilla. Shocking.
(To be frank I've spent most of my time, sitting at the local library, reading. This week I have read eight books.)

I'll start posting small articles about writing - because it's simply fun to write them.


Summer-vacation is coming up in two weeks, and as always - I won't be at home. I'll most likely be at places without internet-connection. You can find me in southern Norway, Sweden or Finland. Good luck.
Talking - or writing - about stalkers; a guy followed me yesterday. It was a tad scary to be frank. But then again - I was armed with hot cocoa.


Eh, enough ranting for this time methinks.