Oh well.

See, I KNEW I’d forget about this one, too. What is wrong with me?! Fucking hell, I can’t keep up with anything. Actually, that’s a lie, because I am doing pretty good with uni-assignments for once. Well, GOOD… I don’t know if it’s good, but at least I am writing and researching. *shivers* The word ‘research’ reminds me of stupid ass Karen, our lecturer for one of the modules we do.  I swear to God she was Hitler in her last life. She’s a fucking cunt with another cunt growing on top of it. I could write thousands of words on her, but I don’t want to waste my time on people who should go somewhere.

Over to something else… Like what? I dunno. The past few weeks have been pretty eventfull and busy, with uni work, classes, tutorials, trying to get a job (it’s impossible), parties, cinema, hanging out doing nothing… Pretty much. Things have changed a bit the past month, though. I am used to hanging out with Elkin and ask him first whenever something is up, whether it’s a party, cinema, uni, or if I’ve been sad or whatever. But, after we “finished” our difficulties we both took a step back ( I’ve taken several steps back now), and as he started to hang out with his college friends again, I got to know Kyle, who was in one of my classes this year. He’s the loud and funny one, but to be honest I didn’t really pay that much attention to him. Anyway, he added me on Facebook randomly, and we started talking (bullshit, mostly) everytime we were online. So, at Chris K’s birthday party I had promised to text him because of…someone… and I did, and it ended up with me and Kyle going on a roadtrip to Chingford and back to Southgate. Man, it was so much fun. So, after that we have pretty much been attached by the hip, meaning, if you see Kyle you see me. I really don’t mind at all, I think he’s fantastic. I love my little gang to bits and pieces, but it feels good making new friends too. Luckily he knows all of us so we can all hang out, which I love. I dunno why he’s so “great”, but it’s just the way he acts, kinda. Aw, I love him.

Other than that I have hundreds and thousands essays to write the next three weeks, so if I NEVER post here again it might be due to an early death.

I will tell myself to update more often. Yes, I will. YOU CAN DO IT.

It doesn’t have a headline yet

My bag filled with a camera, a bottle of pepsi max, a notebook, and a lot of other stuff, I got on the bus to Chingford to follow Kyle Wilson, a Middlesex University student, around for a day.

If I had known that we were going to walk as much as we did I would probably leave half of my stuff at home, but unfortunately I am not physcic.

After going to North Chingford instead of South, Kyle met me at Chingford bus station and surprisingly he wasn’t half dead after last nights drunken happenings.

We walked down a street in North Chingford, which is the “posh” area, with shops, restaurants and everything that belongs to a town.

Kyle used to walk down here everyday on his way to school, which took 45 minutes one way.

There was a typical off licence store on the way which is where he used to buy alcohol before he turned 18, to be able to party like most teenagers do. At least if they are from Chingford.

According to Kyle, it is very easy to bail on cab drivers, as long as they are illegal.

“You leave all the doors open and then you walk away”, he explains. The cab driver has to get out of the car to close the doors before driving after you, and before he knows it you are out of his reach. He can’t call the police either, because he doesn’t have a licence. It’s a safe plan.

Kyle decided to take me to his favourite place in Chingford, a hill called Obelisk, where you can see all of London, more or less.

While walking up the grass hill he pointed at a spot on the hill where his friend was stabbed in the face with a screwdriver. Wow, Chingford is really dodgy.

As we reached the top of the hill he talked about how this is where they usually went to drink and have fun when he was younger.

He climbed on top of a statue and told me that “the non-hungover Kyle feeds off of nature”, while clapping his hands together in an attempt to kill a fly.

While singing ‘Heart in a cage’ by The Strokes he walked over to a tree with a big hole in it, where a Japanese soldier used to sit and shoot people during World War II.

We walked down the hill, which was very muddy and slippery, before Kyle looked at me. “My mouth is dry. Is your mouth dry?” I am pretty sure that is the weirdest way to ask someone if they want something to drink, but we headed off to the off licence store across the road.

He wanted to get the Monster Munch which is supposed to make your mouth blue, but after looking for it for 2 seconds he decided not to get it.

Another hill was in front of us as Kyle started to sing another random song, rudely interrupted by his phone going off.

“I’ve spent too much money this weekend”, Kyle told his friend, which didn’t really surprise me after all the drunken calls I received the night before.

We arrived outside of his secondary school after walking for a bit more, and even though it was a rather nice school it looked a bit like a prison. After all it is in Chingford, so I suppose they have to make sure the kids won’t run away from teaching.

He wanted to break in for a little while, but decided that it might be a bit innapropriate, not to mention difficult because of the prison-looking fence.

We started the 45 minute long walk back to his house after taking a fag break outside of his old school.

As we were walking down a street, he was telling me how he doesn’t like ‘girly girls’, and while I was listening to him there was a car with a couple of chavs in it passing by, and suddenly a bottle of Friji flew out of the window.

“Friji drive by”, he said and grinned.

An ice cream car was in his street with its awful tune playing and an older man sitting behind the stearing wheel.

“Is that Pete?”

“You know the ice cream man?”

“He saw me growing up!”

It’s not new that kids love ice cream, but surely it’s not normal to be that close to your ice cream man, is it? I think it is for Kyle.

He started up his cute, little car as we got into it and we headed off to Southgate.

After 20 minutes of driving, singing and smoking, he parked outside my house and we walked to Southgate.

When arriving outside of Southgate station, Elkin was already there waiting for us, with Suzan showing up a few minutes later.

All of us walked down to our beloved pub, The White Hart, to attend karaoke.

Elkin and Kyle were both very interested in talking about games, especially Pokemon, while Elkin was drinking cider, Kyle surprised us all by getting a Coke.

Our good friend Alan, the karaoke man, showed up and greeted us before he put on ‘Sexual Healing’ by Marvin Gaye, making Kyle happy for some reason.

It took some convincing from our side to get him to sing something, but he gave in to us and handed in his note to Alan, who was happy to let this boy from Chingford sing ‘Friday I’m in love’ by The Cure.

“He’s pretty good”, Suzan said and looked at me while Kyle was singing.

Elkin and Suzan early departure left Kyle and me alone with our glasses with Coke, surprisingly sober, which is rather rare for both of us. Kyle and Elkin were put up to sing ‘Firestarter’ by Prodigy, but since Elkin had left Kyle got a bit nervous about singing it alone, so we left in quite a hurry to prevent that.

As we walked towards my house he admitted that he was a bit tired from getting “knackered” last night, which is understandable.

Cracks on the ground were to avoid by jumping from brick to brick, looking like a little girl.

“I reckon you could bring down Vivenne in a fight… Unless she knows kung fu! I bet she does. Write that in your feature.”

And so I did as he started to sing another song, a Bloc Party one this time.

After spending an entire day with Kyle I realised that everyday is like karaoke for him, considering how much he sings to himself in random situations.

Chingford was more fun than expected, while spending the day with Kyle was as good as I thought it would be. Yes, he’s great fun.

Long time no see?

I did warn you that I’d probably forget about this whole thing after a little while, and I did. Well, actually I didn’t forget about it completely, I actually had stuff to write several times. But, as soon as I came home I forgot about it and did other things instead, like laying down in bed to REST, but I ended up falling asleep everytime. Smart.

What am I doing here except from the fact that I am bored, refusing to go to bed before 11PM? I don’t have much to ramble on about, really. Unless you want to read about how I have managed to keep my room tidy for 3 days straight. Seriously, that’s very good when it comes to me. I had 14 (half-full) bottles in here. Why do I buy new bottles of water and coke when I have a half full one in my bag? It’s beyond me. I’ve always done that, though. My dad refuses to buy small bottles of soda because I finish half of them and then leave them somewhere random in the living room or something. I should start buying the big ones because they will probably last longer, too. The cans disappear within two days, because they are so cold and yummy. Mmh. Enough about soda.

My sister is coming this Saturday, which I am very excited about. Not that I haven’t seen her lately, but I love having visitors here so that I can show them around and act like an independent person, which I am sometimes. Really, I am. Not when it comes to money and tidying my room, but everything else is pretty much under control. I think.

Anyway. The last month has been a bit up and down for me, because I’ve had some problems with a friend of mine. But, it’s sorted out now (yes, I’ve said that 5 times before), at least it really feels like it is. See, I can get over stuff. Just give me some time. So ha!   Other than that I am scarily updated on Uni work, which is surprising since I am usually far behind everyone else. Teachers do speak the truth when they say that homework is important, I just realized, after 12 years of school. Way to go.

I have just finished a presentation where I had to choose one event published by four different publications, and I chose to read articles about how Heath Ledger won Oscar for Best Supporting Role. I was hoping he’d win, and I am very glad he did. Just thinking about his version of The Joker gives me goosebumps, he was so great in it, and in every other movie I’ve seen him in. Ah, Heath. It surprised me that he is only the second actor ever to win an Oscar posthumously, and that the last one was Peter Finch in 1976. NINETEEN SEVENTY SIX! That’s ages ago! Why don’t people win Oscars after they died? It’s not like the Oscar makes your career better, it actually does the opposite. It’s a curse, even. Well, that’s what they say. Halle Berry, remember her? Well, after she won her Oscar she’s been out of the radar for years. Apparently that happens to most of them. Kate Winslet is going to feel it if the curse will affect her, because she’s been nominated 6 times or something, and she won this year for her role in The Reader. Bye, bye, Kate?

I think I am going to bed now, seeing how I have to get up at 7:45AM for yet another seminar. Man, that’s early. It makes me want to cry. FOR AGES. At least I’ve done my reading, so I am prepared. Oh yeah.

Illegal for the wrong reasons?

After the 1st of January 2009 it was no longer allowed to buy sex in Norway, which is an attempt to stop the constant flow of prostitutes selling themselves, and to stop people from buying other people’s bodies to pleasure themselves. Most people find this law positive and they believe that this will stop prostitution in Norway. But, is the problem the prostitutes? I thought pimps were the problem here?

I talked to a friend about this and we agreed that the fact that some people aren’t lucky enough to have a partner must be their “problem”. If they want to satisfy themselves in the sexual way by having sex with a prostitute, shouldn’t that be their choice, not the governments choice?  I mean, there are several prostitutes thave have immigrated from other countries, and before trying to find a normal job, they have settled with selling their body to people instead. Why does the customers get punished for this?

That’s one way to look at it, I guess. The fact that the prostitutes have chosen to do it themselves.

But, there are prostitues who can’t choose. Because they have a pimp, who controls their money, customers and helps them out. Yes, that might help when it comes to living conditions and feeling that someone is taking care of them, but they are selling themselves even more than “free” prostitutes.  They are OWNED by a person. SURELY the pimps are the big problem here, right? Not the customers. Not the prostitutes. The pimps.

But, the government has decided to leave it like this. You are simply not allowed to buy sex. You are not allowed to pay a woman to masturbate in front of you, even though you’re not having sex with her directly. There are few ways to get away with this.

I am not saying that I want prostitutes to run around in certain streets and jump into cars, that is not what I am saying at all. I just don’t understand why the customers are the ones who have to suffer. It seems a bit harsh, I know, but what’s the point when people are going to buy sex somehow, no matter what? It will just be more difficult to find them now. And, let’s say that the prostitutes that are controlled by a pimp have to leave the country because of the lack of customers? Isn’t that getting a bit close to trafficking?

Don’t get me wrong, Norway is a great country to live in, but it’s a very naive country at the same time. The media, the politic and the politicians, the public itself… I have lived there for almost 19 years, and after moving to England a year ago, it’s so much easier to see how naive and “withdrawn” Norway can be when it comes to certain stuff.

I went to Amsterdam last summer, and when we were there we went to see the Red light district, which was extremely absurd and fascinating.  Why is it that prostitutes have those rights in Amsterdam, but nowhere else? When thinking about it, I have to say that it’s pretty smart.  If you want/need to sell sex to desperate people, at least you are safe behind a window, and there is a room ready for you and the customer, and nothing can happen because there is security there. It might not be the most normal thing, walking down a street watching half-naked girls licking their lips at you, but at least they don’t have to be scared, and they do not have pimps telling them what to do and when to do it.

My last point in this matter is rather funny, actually. I was reading an article on this at http://www.side2.no , which is a Norwegian entertainment website, and there was a big picture of sex toys and it said “This will no longer be legal to buy.” So, I thought sex toys were illegal now, which wouldn’t make sense at all (some journalists, huh?).  Anyway, after I realized that it was just a bad headline related to a bad picture, I read the comments below the article as they are always amusing. And, there was a discussion among some people which was pretty entertaining.

One person said that if it’s illegal to buy sex, it must be illegal to have a one night stand, too. At first I was just laughing, but then I continued to read and I realized that she wasn’t as stupid as I thought she was. Her main argument was that when you are out drinking with friends and you meet a guy, he normally buys you a drink and you start talking. Then, it gets later and you go back to his place and you have sex. If it wasn’t for that drink he got you, would you have gone home with him? Her point was that he pays for your drink and you go home with him, so technically he payed you for sex, because that’s what he wanted in the first place. I don’t know if I agree, but I find it a bit amusing.

I don’t know what the law should say instead of what it is saying, but I think there are other things that should be focused on instead of the customers. They aren’t the dangerous ones, the pimps are.

Image: The Red Light District, Amsterdam, Netherlands.

Another one of those dreams

Before you even read this, make sure that you KNOW that I don’t fancy Colin. That’s important. He’s ace, don’t get me wrong, but I do NOT know why he constantly pops up in my dreams. I think he might have an apartment there.

I am not sure how this dream started off, but I remember that Colin, me and a few others (I can’t remember who) were at The White Hart (duh) and we were in some kind of booth that doesn’t excist there at all, because it kind of looked like a living room in a pub. It had a table and a couch, kind of.  That’s not important. Anyway, we were drinking and stuff, and I think we were planning Anna’s birthday (it was in December, but that doesn’t matter), because we were supposed to celebrate that the next day with the rest of the HTE people. We had some kind of a cake on the table, which looked something like…

Colin and I were making fun of each other all the time, and his hair was a bit longer [not shoulder length, you dumbass]. Suddenly he starts kissing me [this is awkward] and we’re like… on the couch, making out… for ages. And then we stop, and he suddenly puts his hand in the cake and grabs a handful of cake and splashes it in my forehead and just… smears it out. He starts running and I put my hand in the cake and run after him and smear it out on his cheek, and he’s laughing his ass off, and makes his way back to the table, where he sits down. When I get there he has something in his hand, and he opens it and he has three blue pills. I grab two of them and swallow them and leave the last one for him. I got worried about him since he’s not on drugs, so I was walking around, affected by some blue pills, thinking about that. And then the pub is closing down, but the landlord gives us the keys and tells us to clean up when we leave.

A bit later Colin is all depressed, so I grab his hand and drag him downstairs [there is no downstairs in the pub, but okay] and open some door, and it’s my sisters’ old room. He lies down on the bed and so do I, and he looks at me and goes “We can’t do that again, you know.” and I am all like “I know that, you’re getting married.” And then some people are trying to get in, so I lock all the 5 doors [emergency exits and everything] and we’re laughing like whoa.

We make our way back to my house [the one I used to live in before Christmas] and before I know it I’m passed out on my own bed. I wake up early in the morning to go to the toilet, and a guy, Jens, from college walks past me [weird, haven't seen him for 2 years] and we say hi. I go upstairs and I look into Colin’s room and there’s a bunch of people there, I think they were his cousins and brothers. I go to the toilet and some guy walks in and he’s norwegian, so I talk to him for a bit before going back downstairs.

Then suddenly I’m at some ball, wearing a prom dress, and there are a lot of people there all dressed up. Colin is there, too, but I don’t talk to him. I tell two of my friends what happened and they are like “what?! you made out with Colin?? He’s getting married!”[having said that, 'White Wedding Day' is on the radio as I'm writing this]

Yeah, I don’t know.

The year that seemed like a month

During the holidays there have been several different TV shows and articles about how 2008 was. The sport events of 2008, the cultural news of 2008, 2008 the news year… Etc. I think I watched one or two of them, the norwegian kinds that is, and so far I have read one article, also a norwegian one. The TV shows were pretty okay since I’m not that updated on norwegian news or entertainment.

So, seeing how extremely bored I am this evening, I thought I’d write my own sum up of 2008.

January: Back from the holidays in Norway, and back to university. I was still living in halls, which you get pretty damn sick of eventually. I can’t remember much from this month, but I do remember that Heath Ledger died, which was a huge loss for the movie industry.

February: February was pretty busy with visitors from Norway, and the first people were my dad, Otto, and my big brother, Christian, who visited me in the beginning of the month. A few days later my friend Therese visited me, and we were pretty much drunk most of the time. Great times.

March: Wow, I have no clue what happened in March 2008. I went home for Easter, and that’s about what I can remember. Worked at the petrol station, and I remember that I regretted going home because it was filled with boredom.

April: Self esteem on its way up, I was getting happier and happier. Anne, a friend from Norway who went to my University, went out pretty much every Thursday, mostly in Soho. We had some great times even though one of those nights shouldn’t have happened. Enough about that. Loads of deadlines and uni work, but I handed everything in on time. This was also the month when I had to move out from the halls and move my stuff to the new house before going to Norway for the summer. Stress, stress, stress.

May: I came back to Norway on the 1st of May, and on the 3rd it was my brother’s confirmation, which is a Norwegian version of Bar Mitzvah, kind of. I started working on the 6th of May, and it turned out that the petrol station was going to be more like home than my mom’s/dad’s house as I worked a lot. The 17th of May is Norway’s national day, and I spent most of it with mom, my sister and brother.

June: People started to come back from uni and such from across the country, so it was mostly get togethers and stuff. In the end of June, me and my friend Tiril went on an interrail from our hometown, to go to a festival in Brussell.

July: The Interrail’s first stop was Berlin, Germany. Pretty epic city, where we spent about 20 hours before we took the night train to Amsterdam. Another epic city, and even though it’s more of a cosy city it’s fabolous. We met three Australian guys who were great, and we spent some time with them. Then we went to Brussell after two days in Amsterdam, and it was time for Rock Werchter 2008. We saw tons of bands and artists, and it was a great festival. After that I went to Homburg in Germany and visited one of my very good friends, Anna. It was totally amazing. We got tattoos, and this one was my 4th and so far, last. I ended up with a J on my right foot.For the rest of the month I worked, worked, worked.

August: I worked a lot up until the 17th of August. On the 19th I went back to London, and the first weekend I went on the London Eye for the first time with Anne, Maria, Rob and Grant, and let’s just say that Rob was a gentleman. Cough. August was really epic for me, because I had time to do all the stuff I wanted before uni started, and I went shopping, took pictures, hung out with friends and partied.

September: Did the same thing, nothing big happened, but uni started in the very end of the month. I think that’s it. Wow. At the last sunday of the month, we went to our local pub, The White Hart, and it turned out that they have karaoke every other sunday, so that was the beginning of a new tradition for Suzan, Ameena, Elkin, Phil and me. Also, I got a lip piercing.

October: More karaoke and uni work. We also had a great Halloween party at campus, and I went as Amy Winehouse (who has been a total wreck this year, fyi).

November: Stressful month. I turned 20 on the 19th of November, and we went to Planet Hollywood to eat, and I got really great gifts from everyone. My mom, sister and little brother arrived on the 20th and stayed till the 23rd. We did a lot of stuff and it was great having them here again.

December: Elkin’s birthday on the 6th of December, and we went to Qiquito and ate mexican food, before going on the fun fair in Leicester Square and tried pretty much every ride we could get on. On the 7th we surprised Elkin with a little karaoke-party at the White Hart. Suzan baked a cake, I baked cupcakes, and it was a totally win party. And a good after party. Hah. We had work to hand in, too, and on the 16th I moved out from the house into another house in the same area, before I went back for Christmas Holidays in Norway. Catching up, some drinking, movies, eating out, spending time with family… That’s about it.

It’s been a great year, actually I think it has been the best year so far.

Bring it on, 2009.

Do friends last forever?

This already sounds like one of those “I want to write a really deep blog post” things, but it isn’t… I think.

Last September (2007) I moved to London all by myself to study Journalism, because I have always wanted to, and living in London has been a dream since I was 10. Since then I have never regretted it, not even once, and I have never missed my hometown. Not even for a minute.  But, what’s different from last year is that I have more close friends now, because I am more social (I’d actually call myself over-social at times, and I am pretty sure some people would agree).  When I went home for Christmas Holidays last year, I was very excited and it was so great to see my friends back home, and time flew by so quickly.

This year, it’s completely different. I didn’t want to go home for Christmas, I just wanted to stay in London. Suzan might say that it’s for guy-related reasons, but that’s bullcrap (yes, Suz, it is). It’s just that I don’t need people at home as much as I did last year. I have good friends in London now, so it’s not AS important to me to have the old friends. Of course, I love them and it’s great to see them again, but it’s more… “Meh.” When I realized that it wasn’t as great coming home this year I felt really bad, because I seem like such a shitty friend. It’s not that, it’s just that I think I am too different from most of them. There is one that I just… don’t have the same “chemistry” with anymore, and it’s actually pretty sad, because she is a great friend. My sister assured me that it’s completely normal, but I can’t help feeling weird about it.

That’s kind of what I want to know. If you have known someone for a certain amount of years, does that mean that you’ll stay friends with them for longer than the ones you’ve known for a less amount of years? Because it seems like it. Or, is it simply the fact that when you start studying completely different things, it’s hard to keep each other interested? Actually, after writing that I think I have to agree with my second argument. It just makes more sense. Plus, it makes me feel a tiny bit less bad.

The thing is, I still keep in touch with most of my friends from high school, and some of my friends from College. It’s just that I have more in common with the ones from high school, because we have so many memories together, and we go way back, so it’s more of a reason to keep in touch.

Does it even matter? I’ve only lived away from home for one year. I am pretty sure I’ll have one or two left in 3 years, which is a bit different from the 10 I have left now.

Fail

I just read Suzan’s blog and I realized that I haven’t used my own in over a year. Major fail. I’ve tried to make so many blogs, but I forget about them and when I DO remember them, I’ve forgotten my username or the password or whatever, so I give up.

Anyway, I will try to use this one (it’s bookmarked now), because I need to write down weird stuff that happens, dreams, rants, pondering, pictures… You name it.

So, to start it all off:

I am getting a haircut on Wednesday (wow, last thing I’ll do before 2009) and I have no clue what kind. I need to figure it out. Now.

Fangirls

“The term fangirl can be used to describe a female member of a fandom community (counterpart to the masculine “fanboy”). Fangirls tend to be more devoted to emotional and romantic aspects of their fandom, especially shipping. Fangirl behavior can vary in intensity. On one end of the scale are those that, while harboring a crush on a particular actor or character, are perfectly capable of understanding that the fulfilment of the crush is never going to happen. On the other end are the girls who are said to be obsessive in their claims on a fictional character, even fighting with other fangirls over who ‘owns’ the character in question. Fangirl behavior can fall anywhere in this spectrum, but the closer someone is believed to be towards the obsessive end, the more derogatory the use of the term ‘fangirl’ to describe them is perceived to be.” (taken from Wikipedia.org)

His name is Julian Casablancas. He is the frontman and singer of New York City’s greatest band, The Strokes. He is handsome, he is tall, he is hot, he is smart, and he is very, very talented. But why do I obsess over him? Why do we obsess over celebrities?

I think we obsess over people because we need something to escape in. Some people escape their normal lives with drugs, some do it with work and some do it with other stuff. Fangirls escape from their normal life by dreaming about their obsession. Most of us know that we can’t have our obsession, but some of the fangirls do believe that they will end up with their obsession one day… If they only could meet him and tell him how great he is. But how do we know that our obsession is as great as we think? We don’t. I talked to a friend about this, and we found out that we create a personality for our obsession by reading interviews and reading stuff about them. It makes sense, really. I don’t know Julian at all, and I probably never will, (unless I move to New York City and stalk him like a crazy person) but I look at him as one of the greatest persons alive. And for all that I know, he is a great person. Sure, I know stuff about him that gives me the “right” to believe that he is as great as I think that he is, but I can’t know for sure.

But some people push it, they do. People get banned from forums for talking about how they want to kill their obsession’s girlfriend or wives, because they are ugly, bitches and stupid. And they may be ugly bitches, but it doesn’t make it right to threathen their lives. I obviously don’t like the fact that Julian is married, but do I want to kill his wife? Not at all.

Some fangirls don’t even care about their obsession’s career or work, they just care about the looks and their private lives. To me, that is plain stupid. I am a Strokes fan because of the great music they make, and I would be a fan even though their lead singer (and the rest of the band) weren’t hot.

I remember when I was obsessed over Michael Owen in like 2002, when he played for Liverpool FC. I had posters, tee shirts and pictures everywhere, and when he got a kid, I was crushed. And then the news about him being sold to Real Madrid came out, and people mocked me all the time; “So, now what? Are you a Real Madrid fan?” It pissed me off, and I was not a Real Madrid fan, I was a Liverpool FC fan. But, I guess it would be normal for a fangirl to start buying Real Madrid merchandise because her obsession played for that team. But I didn’t.

Insane fangirls scare me, they really do. Am I insane? I don’t think that I am. And I know that in a few years, I won’t even care about celebrities. I think.

I miss my credit card

I arrived in London at the 20th of September, with my wallet safe in my purse(handbag, or handbucket). Two days later, on my way home from central London with two of my new friends (BeeBee and Ewa) I was supposed to take the bus back to my hall, but I couldn’t find my wallet. I dragged myself and my bags all the way back to where I had last seen it, but it was nowhere to be found. I called my mom and told her how I had lost it and how I couldn’t find it. I think she wanted to yell, but luckily she did not.

A week later, she told me that my new credit card was put in an envelope and sent from Norway to London. I was happy and it was like “Yeah, in two or three days I’ll have my credit card.” No such luck. Royal Mail went on a strike the following day (4th of October), and the strike lasted for a week. As soon as it was over, I went to the Post Office and asked them when I could expect my letter to arrive. “2 or 3 days since it is international mail”, he said. This is 5 days ago, and my credit card is still NOT here.

I miss my credit card.