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[08 Aug 2005|10:19pm] |
This summer I have watched movies and fried eggs. The end.
This fall I will cry in my new, strange bed alone in Copenhagen, but I won't have the money for eggs. The end.
At least, I'll always have, liek, literature.
1. Total number of books I've owned:
A wild guess would be 190. That would be including comics, but not including dictionaries. But my future plans include gathering a library, so I will need more.
2. Last book I bought:
Well, since I didn't pay for HP&HBP, it would be Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (Susanna Clarke), On the Road (am wild and alienated beatnik, yo), A heartbreaking work of staggering genius (Dave Eggers) or some Steven Millhauser short stories. I can't remember, the amazon deliveries have been pretty regular lately^^
3. Last book I read:
Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell doesn't really coun't because I'm not completely done with it^^ Not to say I don't totally love it, though. Before that, it was Book of Illusions by Paul Auster. I really loved that one, even if I didn't bother have long philosophical sessions with myself afterwards, pondering the nature of vanishing in order to exist.
4. 5 books that mean a lot to me:
1) Harrrrrrry Potter! Good. I got that out of my system.
2) Nine Stories (by JD Salinger). Some of them are totally intoxicating. The best 10 pages I've read in my life are still A Perfect Day for Bananafish. That story is just, arrrggg, I'm not clever enough to express it. It has the same kind of wit, weltschmerz and doom, wrapped in bright 1940s American colours that I love about Lolita.
3) Lolita (Nabokov)^____^ Well, obviously.
4) Hotel New Hampshire (John Irving). Wah, so amazing.
5) Painting the darkness (Robert Goddard). Hmm. I was pretty young when I read it, and I guess it's really just a detective story with a pretty farfetched plot, but I still vividly remember the gloom and fatefulness. The first book I read, that left me thinking, "God, I wish I'd never read this, because I don't think I'll ever be happy again".
5. Five people to take up the meme and answer in their own lj.
Everybody, really.
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[19 Jul 2005|07:46pm] |
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I was happy in my bed, trying to make HBP fanart. Dad saw it, and asked with great interest if it was supposed to be a lion. It really wasn't. I thought I was beyond the age where adults go "oooh, that's nice, is it a lion?"
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[13 Jul 2005|05:46pm] |
I was going to start my first job this Monday. My to-be employer had five times made it clear just how bad her memory was (I called her three times before she sort of remembered my name, and when we finally scheduled an interview, she forgot about that too, and I had to call her to find her. After that, I had to call her again to find out how it went). But in the end, I got the job and she was going to call me again about the details before I went on summer holidays, which of course she never did, but by that time I'd gotten used to it, and didn't think it mattered. When I just called her today, she had no recollection of ever having talked to me, and besides she didn't need anyone. She apologised a bit, like you do to stranger who behave odd, and I was completely taken aback and didn't have time to be angry. The process has taken about 2 months.
And I am very angry, of course. I can see that she probably has a brain tumour, and it's not her fault, but jesus god, never have I felt more like a righteously angry and very, very poor student. I really need that money, and with only a month to go before I have to back my current life down and move, it's not like it's going to be easy to get one now.
Anyway, I also feel very stupid because I didn't manage to scream at her over the phone. I called her back to ask if she was certain, and she was, still not a clue who she was talking to. I realised that I really need to learn to be pissed at people. I can do that for political issues, but when people treat me like shit and smile nice, I get all "er, that's alright then". If she'd just told me that she had no clue who I was, AND added that she was against homosexual church weddings, then maybe I could have got all torn up and scornful, but as it is, I am just a weak person. Fuckit. And I'm really hot and I've gained weight, so boo hoo!
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[12 Jul 2005|04:50pm] |
Hi, I just graduated.
And on a whim I've decided to 1) move to Copenhagen and 2) start university this fall, which is both the opposite of what I've had in mind for three years and very cowardly. Heeh. I'm only starting university because I couldn't deal with the big existential void that is No School for the first time in 13 years. Film and Media Science it's called. Last minute I caved and chose the most impossibly fun and useless subject I could think of. I am not grown up. I am a small child, and I am not ready to be 18 and make important decisions for my future, like what education I'm going to take.
Look, here is a picture of me with my perky little hat on, to prove that I went through it all:
I just got back from Scotland. Glasgow, Edinburgh and the godforsaken little Orkney islands (which may not even be Scotland, but actually Scandinavia, just for the added idiocy value). Glasgow was wonderully dirty and cinematic, except for the very ugly inhabitants. Isn't there some kind of indie art school in Glasgow? I kept waiting for dumb beautiful people to come running out of the Underground hiding places. Edinburgh seemed huge and beautiful and strangely boring.
I was in Scotland when the thing in London happened, but nobody there seemed torn up and in distress about it.
No, I was not there for half a year, only two weeks. God, has it been half a year since I updated my LJ? Well, that makes me feel strange, so I won't adress it, just write on like nothing's happened.
Besides, Harry Potter in a few days? I would have to update then anyway.
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[15 Dec 2004|10:56pm] |
What possesses a person to voluntarily sign up for writing a 9000 words paper on Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters & Seymour: an Introduction?
The most fatal hubris you ever saw. To be delivered Monday. Current wordcount: 545. Not gonna happen.
This, on the other hand, is fabulous.
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[09 Dec 2004|06:30pm] |
I am still the log-keeping kind of person, it's just guuh, allow me this half year of total inactivity. And please let me stay in the illusion that you'll all forgive me, once I get back to being a good, commenting friend again. January, or something. Promise.
I have updated the other journal sort of recently, though.
I've also written some poetry lately, which is funny because I'm the farthest from a poet you'll ever find. I'm way too embarassed to share, but the topics have been dogs, gardens, America and frozen pizza. All very zen, even the one about America, quite amazingly.
I'll share this one, though:
In the street there's lots of dog shit
and lots of flies, as these things go
And the flies get shittier and shittier
but they quite enjoy it, though.
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[03 Nov 2004|02:34pm] |
America is not my fault, problem or concern. It has nothing to do with me whatsoever, and I couldn't point it out on a map. What is this America you are all talking about? Is it a bird?
(I'm trying to distance myself from my grief here.)
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| Says I. |
[02 Nov 2004|06:34pm] |
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music |
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America - West Side Story |
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For, lessay, a month or so, I haven't been able to turn on my television screen without funny little stars and stripes popping up, or open a newspaper without the colour scheme being red, white and blue. That hasn't bothered me in the least, because like the rest of Europe (and most probably the entire world), I care an improportionate lot about America and their godforsaken ways. I care to the point where my stomach starts hurting. Now, even if the average, right-wing American (and probably some lefties too) find this strange, seeing as they couldn't give a flying fuck about Europe (except if they go fix up houses in Tuscany), it is very natural for me to care. It is natural, because somehow the U.S. is more important to Danish politics than Danes are, and I strongly suspect that Denmark is not alone in this. This is not a critique, it's the way the world works, but bite me if it isn't frustrating.
And this is why my petty little continent and I have been worried sick since the goddam spring. Because we cannot get to vote, like we so desperately feel we deserve. Instead, we're forced to watch some delirious half of the American population insist that discrimination of gays is more important than wars and common sense, or whatever it is that's possessing them.
I'm only saying it's tough.
Please vote well.
ETA
I thought I might add this, now that I'm being politically emotional anyway:
The European Parliament just vetoed (or whatever the thing they did is called) the new commission, because one of the members was homophobically inclined. For a moment, let's appreciate that we got some pretty alright ethics going.
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[25 Oct 2004|09:46pm] |
So this boy I know burned a CD for me, and the first track is that one you know, from the opening of Barbarella, where Jane Fonda undresses. This touches me beyond comprehension.
*
It's not that I don't want to update, it's just that the above is the only thing in the last couple of months that's worth reporting.
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[07 Sep 2004|06:38pm] |
Once upon a time, there was an ocean. In this ocean, there sailed a ship, and all the ship ever did was sailing back and forth, back and forth, always the same route across the water. On this ship lived the humans.
One of these was a little boy named Ernest. He had been sailing with the ship for his entire life, when he one day saw a blue seagull soaring above his head. Little Ernest was deeply startled, because in the ship's library, there was no mention of such a thing as a blue seagull. He read a thousand books, and looked at a thousand pictures, but there was neither depiction nor description of any blue seagull. Even so, Ernest could not forget what he had seen, so one day in class he asked his teacher.
"Sir, I have seen a blue seagull soaring above my head. Where does it come from?"
"What do you mean, Ernest?" asked the teacher. "There is no such thing as a blue seagull."
Ernest decided to forget the seagull, and months passed by. Then one day, he saw another one. His heart pounded wildly as he watched it disappear, and only too late did he realise that he once again had been the only one to witness the unusual bird. This time he couldn't forget it, though, and he went to his teacher again.
"Sir, I have seen another blue seagull, so it must be true that they exist."
"What do you mean, you silly boy. You mustn't let your mind trick you like that."
"But sir, the blue seagull flew west, and our ship only ever sails from north to south and back again. If the blue seagulls live far away in the west, we could have shared the ocean for hundreds of years, without ever knowing."
The teacher now became cross with Ernest, and asked him to be quiet, while the class continued their regular lessons.
A year went by, before Ernest saw the seagull again. This time it touched his hair, as it turned to fly back west. Ernest longed for the ship to turn and follow the seagull, but when he asked the captain, he was merely laughed at. Desperate, Ernest saw no other option than to jump in the water and follow the seagull alone. He cried and was afraid, because he had always been told that the ocean was empty, apart from the ship, and the only company he would find in the water were the bodies of the dead. But he knew that he couldn't live on this ship, now that he had seen the blue seagulls, so he jumped in. He was in the water for days, and he almost drowned, but finally he he found an island. Now he knew that the educated people on the ship were wrong. The ocean was not empty. On the island, Ernest built a small boat, and he sailed the ocean for many years, east, west, north, south, and all the directions in between. He always found food he had never tasted before, and animals he had never seen before, but he never found the blue seagull again.
Ernest was not a little boy anymore, he was a beautiful and wise man. But there was no one around him to appreciate his beauty and wisdom, and he had no one to appreciate in return.
Then one day, twenty years after he had left it, he saw the ship of his childhood again. The people on the ship were happy to see him after all these years, and he was happy to see them. There was a party in his honour, and he met his old teacher and the captain of the ship, and the teacher asked him:
"Did you find your blue seagull, Ernest?"
"No," Ernest answered. "But I found so many new animals, fruits, trees, flowers, insects, mountains and stars instead, I have not regretted that I left you."
The teacher smiled happily, and said:
"You see, I was right Ernest. I told you, you wouldn't find that blue seagull. I told you it didn't exist."
And the captain nodded when the teacher had spoken, and said:
"Thank God I didn't turn the ship when you asked me to. Then we would have sailed in vain for twenty years."
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| Short rant. |
[06 Sep 2004|03:11pm] |
Adressing the Honour The Dead Children memes:
How is putting a rose-icon in front of my MSN-username going to help, support or revive a Russian child? Must we really relish in phony internet mourning-orgies, to feel good about ourselves? Please. I urge anyone who actually cares to go and get a real opinion and make a difference. Go on, I dare you.
PS: This isn't directed at anyone in particular, and feel free to point out that I am a hypocrite myself most of the time. It's not like that's a secret anyway.
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| Le sigh. |
[03 Sep 2004|06:21pm] |
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Gah. So Denmark's name did come up in George Bush's speech at that goddamn convention. Apparently we're a great nation for our participation in that delicate Iraq incident. I was hoping he'd just say "Great nations like the United Kingdom, Australia... and so many others", but for once, he gave the full list. Hopefully everybody will have forgotten in the morning.
Why can't we ever be recognised as the great nation who first legalised porn, or the great nation who has a cute crown prince (even if that is actually Sweden)?
The great nation who sent a submarine to Iraq... it just doesn't have that ring to it.
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| Jake Gyllenhaal. |
[02 Sep 2004|06:24pm] |
Despite the subject line, I'm not even going to mention Brokeback Mountain.
Somehow this turned into the Jake Gyllenhaal appreciation week for me, dunno what triggered. It started Sunday, when I just randomly checked out his IMDb-profile, and it has so far lasted until now.
Yesterday, I saw Donnie Darko tree times in a row (though, the third time, I mostly just fast-forwarded between my favorite scenes^^). Today, feeling I needed to broaden my horizon, I bought The Good Girl and Moonlight Mile.
I'll admit I bought them for the fix, but the movies turned out to be better than expected.
( Kinda short reviews of Donnie Darko, the Good Girl and Moonlight Mile. Spoiler warning, you know. )
( ... and what really counts in a movie... )
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| Che, Emma, Food. |
[28 Aug 2004|01:39pm] |
Go see Motorcycle Diaries., like I did last night.
If you are into social injustice, it's really neat. If you are not into social injustice, but instead into manly, yet impossibly beautiful boys who can't dance, the movie delivers too. If you think Che Guevara is one dirty creep, then go see it, and think "aw, he was so sweet before he turned dirty creep". If you think Che Guevara is a modern Messiah, go see it and think "Aww, the Messiah is so cute when he can't dance".
***
So, knowing how the world works, I could die anytime. And I won't die, without having said this:
Maybe - Emma Bunton.
Shuttup. The video is a lot of boys in ties dancing really funny, and it's generally very awesome. So if you don't comment saying "Oh, you made me download the video, and it was glorious!" or "I already know this, it is so glorious!", then don't comment at all.
***
My parents are in Lübeck, but they'll probably be in Italy in a few hours. I wasn't invited, as it's a luuuv-trip. It became a luuuv-trip, when my dad ordered an extra ticket by mistake, and felt certain that cancelation was impossible, and he decided to take mum with him.
I'll just starve for a week back here, because there's just no way I'm using the money they left me on food.
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| monkey stuff. |
[22 Aug 2004|05:20pm] |
Mwahaha, I have a DeviantArt gallery!. Wonder why it took me so long.
Right now it's just everything I've posted in ![[info]](http://l-stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif) bartholdy, so you won't find anything new. But now that I have a scanner, I'm probably going to post sketches and a lot of ugly stuff in my other journal, and only the less ugly and less sketchy in that gallery.
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| Harry Potter, I am your father! |
[17 Aug 2004|06:50pm] |
Instead of writing something meaningful, I will write 'Harry Potter, I am your father!' 4 times, using whichever body parts I feel like:
Elbow: nhazrry pottder, ki zm your fathr11111111
Nose: yaqrry potter, i a your vfter1
Fingers, but with eyes closed: Harry, potter, I am yyr father!
Foot, wearing shoe: harry potyytetr.,., bi asm ylouyutrt fgastgghre12
This is quite a good meme. You should all do it, and say you gacked it from me! If you nick it, you can be whatever relative of Harry you choose.
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[26 Jul 2004|09:17pm] |
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music |
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Can't touch this - MC Hammer |
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I CANNOT WRITE, I CANNOT DRAW AND I SUCK AT COOKING.
So all the stuff I eat in my dark depression tastes like shit.
No wait. I logged on to say HAPPY BIRTHDAY skyeathena!, even if I am a day late and uncharming as I shout it.
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| Blabbity blahblah |
[20 Jul 2004|11:28pm] |
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mood |
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 good |
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music |
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Irish Blood, English Heart - Morrrrrissey |
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( Heh! )
From Hotel Gamla Teatern in Östersund, Sweden. I was there one night this summer, before we entered the darkness of Norway.
It amuses me, how I love taking photos like these. No deeper meaning, no particular talent, just pretentious flimsiness. It's really liberating^^ And the hotel was wonderfully ineffective. To the point where they considered writing it in the brochure, I think.
***
Today I delivered Overdue Book of the Week at the library, and convenientnly discovered that I can deliver and take out books automatically, which means no more fooling around at the counter, explaining that once again I have completely forgotten my 2-year-old-and-still-growing fine, and yes, how strange of me, given the 42 red reminders. Good for me.
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