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An illustrated regular |
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Saturday, October 29, 2005
Tale as old as time
My new friend Anna's 17th birthday was yesterday, and to celebrate it, a group of girls went with her to see Beauty And The Beast, the musical, at the Playhouse on Thursday. It was so good. Amazing, in fact. The woman who played Belle had such a good voice, Gaston was incredibly funny, looking practically exactly the same as in the Oscar-winning animated movie - clothes, long, black, stiff and shiny hair, painted-on abs and ridiculously pompous American accent (although I don't know how his accent was in the movie, since I've only seen the Icelandic dubbed version. But the pompous part I'm sure of). And the tiny kid who played Chip was sooooooo cute! Everytime he said something, the whole audience chuckled and said aww and oooooh. The loudest aww's came in the end when he was a boy again (Do I still have to sleep in the cupboard, Mama?). I smile even just thinking about it!
Lumiere and the clock (forgot his name. Maybe Cogsworth?) were also really funny.
QotD: Beast: "I want to do something for her... but what?"
Cogsworth: "Oh, there's the usual things; flowers, chocolates, promises you don't intend to keep..." -Beauty and the Beast |
Tuesday, October 25, 2005
The lady on the second floor
A 92 year old lady called Mrs. Fersch lives on the second floor in my building, right above us. She paid us a couple of visits right after we moved in, telling us that because of her weak heart, door slamming wasn't good (which we didn't), but disguised the message very carefully in a polite comment. But we could see right through her. She told us other things, also carefully disguised. Because of this, we weren't particularly fond of the poor old lady, although we, sarcastically, disguised it carefully ourselves. But just last week, mom had to do some project for one of her folkloristics classes, taking interviews with people about superstitions and stuff like that. And mom figured that Mrs. Fersch, being 92 years old, might have a few stories to tell. So she went upstairs one day and had a long conversation with her, and got to hear many a story. Mom told me a couple of them, and I want to share them with you.
On weekends, there is often a lot of hustle and bustle outside our building. The little lawn by the croquet club's house seems to be some kind of meeting place for young teenagers out to "have a good time" - i.e. getting drunk on weekend nights, often starting at around dinnertime and going on through the night. Once upon a time, the noice outside was so much, that Mrs. Fersch fetched her police hat and badge that her father had given her (he was a policeman) and stuck her head out the window, shouting at the kids. Turns out that most of the noise was coming from a boy and a girl having loud sex right by the wall (i.e. standing up, I think), moaning and yelling. Wether they stopped after Mrs. Fersch's interference, or finished their little live-making there by the wall I can not remember.
Another story is from a loooong time ago. During WWII! People were really poor here then. Once, Mrs. Fersch's friend told her that she had met a mother of five or six children, infants to 14-year-old (or so), who was taking care of them and her home completely alone, while her husband was in the army. The children looked like skeletons, because she could barely afford food for them. So one day, feeling extremely sorry for that poor woman and her family, Mrs. Fersch's friend gave her some money, wether it was a shilling or a pound I do not recall (that was a good amount back then). The next day, Mrs. Fersch's friend paid the family a visit to see if they were doing better. They weren't. The woman hadn't bought bread for her children. Turned out that she was a devout Catholic, and her priest had stopped by the day before. Because of her lack of money, the woman hadn't been able to donate a few coins to the church's fund or charity fund or sth, for a while. So either she voluntarily, or the priest talked her into it, donated the shilling/pound to the church. Her children were starving, and she gave the freking church what little money she had been given to buy them something to eat! From that day on, Mrs. Fersch practically despised the church.
Another story from the WWII period. She had a little boy about a year before her husband went to war. He didn't come back until three years later. When she heard of his return, she told her then four-year-old son that Daddy was coming home. Know what the poor little boy said? "What's a daddy?" He and his little friends didn't know what a daddy was, because all their fathers were in the army for years. All they knew were their mothers! Isn't that sad?
Well, those are only a few of the stories Mrs. Fersch has to tell of her long life. I have to say, even though I didn't meet her myself, we all like her a little better now. After all, she's just a sweet old lady!
Nightie night dears.
QotD: "I'm doing all of this to save your ass, but what I really wanna do is drop you on it!" -Baby, Dirty Dancing
(p.s.: update 29.10.05) |
Saturday, October 15, 2005
So long and thanks for all the fish!
I just watched The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy for the second time. It is actually quite entertaining. The song that the dolphins sing - So Long and Thanks For All the Fish! - is so funny, and it is good fun to sing along to.
I went to the Edinburgh University Library on Wednesday. She hasn't got a library card yet (it's a long story which I myself don't really understand, but in short: she doesn't have a card for the big library, only for the tiny one in the School of Scottish Studies building), but she had to get a photocopy card, which she could only get there, so the escurity guard let us in to go to the helpdesk. You see, only university students get to go in there to study and borrow books. After mom had got her photocopy card and a temorary library card which allows her to go inside and study and read books, but not to borrow them, we went up to the fourth floor, where, among thousands of others, the folkloristics and ethnology books that mom might need for her studies are.
And man is it big! Like, huge. ENORMOUS. You could easily get lost in between all these shelves. They are so close together, that not even two people can walk through side by side. People who are overweight would have to get someone to find books for them - they are that close together!
And I was enchanted by it. I would so love to get to go there and do my homework, next to people my age who are genuine university students, in between roaming between the shelves reading a few pages of random first edition books that were published in the 1920s.
But, alas, I have to wait a couple of years before I can do that. And I accept it - I totally do. It would be that way if I still lived in Iceland. I would be patient - await my time. MY TIME WILL COME! No, I am patient. It's just that every time I walk through the campus and past the university library (it's a good short-cut to get home from Nicholson Street), I get this feeling; wishing that I were one of them - that this were my school.
When mom and I were going out of the library, after spending almost an hour (or more!) in there, talking to the girl at the helpdesk and then scannig the shelves on the fourth floor; I saw a stand on which a bunch of newspapers were lying; free ones. So I grabbed a copy, just out of curiosity. Turned out it was the The University of Edinburgh school newspaper - Student. It's actually an interesting read. I'd take Student over the Scotsman any day. I mean, this article is quite interesting, as opposed to this one.
Well, I reckon it's time to go to bed.
G'night honeys!
QotD: "Leave this to me. I'm British. I know how to queue." -Arthur Dent, The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy |
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
I googled my name for pictures, and aside from loads of pictures of the Icelandic minister of education, who's my namesake (only Katrin's her middle name; she's got another first name), and a horrible school picture of me from MR, I found this one. I painted this when I was in primary school - in seventh grade. It's on my old primary school's website! Did I show potential or what?!? (Sarcasm.) |
Tuesday, October 11, 2005
I didn't win a teddy bear in the raffle last night, like I wanted
I went to my first ceilidh last night! And it was sooo fun. For those of you who do not know what a ceilidh is, here's the Scots Dictionary definition:
"A ceilidh (pronounced kale-ee) is an informal social gathering with folk music, singing, dancing, and storytelling. This kind of gathering, which is popular in the Highlands and the Islands, is normally held in someone's house. In the rest of Scotland, a ceilidh is more of an organized evening of entertainment. Ceilidhs take place in hotels or halls hired for the evening and involve Scottish country dancing to music played usually on accordions and fiddles. Some dances are for couples and some for larger groups. The word is Gaelic."
The South-African committee at my school organized this ceilidh to raise money for the Zwelibanzi high school in South Africa, which is a sort of a "friend school" (forgot the English word!) of JGHS. It was for senior students (S5-S6; 16-17/18 year olds), as well as teachers and parents. As I mentioned before, it was really fun. There was a band, consisting of musicians that played the fiddle, the keyboards and some instrument that I think was a banjo, and they played Scottish folk music. Before they started each song, they said what dance it was, and then they sort of "taught" the guests how to do it (Although many of them had already learned some of the dances in primary school). I only danced three dances, but they were, like, 5-10 minutes each. I could barely get the hang og half of them, but then again I've never been good at learning steps. But I still had some good fun. Everybody was asked to wear something tartan, and some people wore kilts (including me), some had this sort of a ribbon wrapped around their shoulder and waist, in their "clan tartan". I even saw a girl wearing panty hose with a tartan pattern. Some people only had a little ribbon in their hair or tied around their wrists or waist. Yours truly did not only wear a kilt, but also had a tartan purse. I just happened to have it in a drawer - I bought it a couple of years ago on a sale in Skarthusid. I got a couple of compliments on it!
There was also a raffle, to raise money, and I bought a row of tickets (5) for a pound, but I am sorry to say that I did not win the teddy bear I had my eyes on.
Here are pictures from the ceilidh. I apologize that many are a little vague, but it was dark and I had to use the night flash, so it comes out sort of weird. But many are fine.
Ah well. Good night then.
QotD: "I'm a bloodsucking fiend! Look at my outfit!" -Willow, BtVS |
Sunday, October 09, 2005
The Body
I was watching the episode of Buffy where she finds her mom dead, The Body, and even though I've seen this episode umpteen times, my eyes still get teary when Buffy says "We're not supposed to move the body!" and then cries, and when Anya talks about how she doesn't understand that "there's just a body, and I don't understand why she just can't get back in it and not be dead anymore!". It's just so incredibly sad.
Tears!
QotD: "But I don't understand! I don't understand how this all happens. How we go through this. I mean, I knew her, and then she's, there's just a body, and I don't understand why she just can't get back in it and not be dead anymore! It's stupid! It's mortal and stupid! And, and Xander's crying and not talking, and, and I was having fruit punch, and I thought, well Joyce will never have any more fruit punch, ever, and she'll never have eggs, or yawn or brush her hair, not ever, and no one will explain to me why." -Anya, BtVS |
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
Happy birthday lil' bro!
It's Matti's 11th birthday today! Congratulations, big guy!
*Sniff* They grow up so fast! *Sniff*
QotD: Xander: "Man, words can not describe how much I hate this place."
Giles: "It's dreadful."
Anya: "It's like communism." -Buffy the Vampire Slayer |
Tuesday, October 04, 2005
Pics!
I'm working on loading the loads of pictures I've taken on my digital camera and are currently waiting on my computer doing no good to nobody but myself. Therefore I have decided to share aas many as I can with all of you, and you better look at them. Because what are pictures for if not to look at, I ask you?
So here is the site where you can find albums, and among them are pictures of my new home on Leven Terrace, Edinburgh.
QotD: Oz: "Guys, take a moment to deal with this. We survived."
Buffy: "It was a hell of a battle."
Oz: "Not the battle. High school. We're taking a moment... And we're done." -BtVS (what else!?!) |
Monday, October 03, 2005
Joy!
My aunt Audur Lilja had a tiny little boy this morning (I can't say for sure if he's really tiny, as I've never actually met him, but I've heard that he is)! I've seen two pictures of him, and he is just the cutest little thing! Right after Sigrun, of course. No, I'm just kidding. They're equally cute and adorable. I just can't wait to see my little cousin, whenever that will be! I just hope I'll get to see a millionandone pictures of him. His name is Tomas David. I'm not sure if his last name will be Thomasson or just Zahniser, which is his father's last name. QotD: Oz: "I can see why you'd be upset... That was my sarcastic voice." Xander: "You know, it sounds a lot like your regular voice." Oz: "I've been told that." -BtVS
Anywayz. Congratulations Audur & Tommi! And Sunna Dogg and Andri Freyr, congrats with the new baby brother (I trust someone will pass those greetings on?)!
I had Senior Vocal Group rehearsal today at lunchbreak. This is a great group, I'm sure, but my gosh how I miss the MR choir right now. At home they have rehearsals twice a week, and ahour and a half each time (last time I heard, i.e.). The lunchbreak at JGHS is 45 minutes - the rehearsals are supposed to start when half an hour is left, but both of the times that I've been, it's started at about 13:20-13:25, when only 15-20 minutes are left of the lunchbreak. Excuse me, but that is just not enough singing for me - 15 minutes per week? That's why I'm also going to be in the Senior Choir (like most of the members of the SVG), but since I can't make it to the rehearsals that are every Thursday after school (babysitting my lil' dear sis), so I have to go to extra rehearsals on Wednesdays during lunchbreak, which are for those who can't make it on Thursdays (sorry for the calendar, but I really am making a point here). What I suspect is that the Wednesday Senior Choir rehearsals will go just the same way as the SVG - 20 minutes of singing before the bell. So all in all, that's... hmmm... forty minutes of singing per week, as opposed to three hours, with an occasional mass every couple of months. Yeah, I think I'm 
missing that a little. But it's totally worth it I think. Because sometime in December around Christmas, the school will have this annual Christmas carol concert, in which all (I think) the instrumental bands and choirs will play and sing. This concert will be held in this concert hall called Usher Hall, which seats no less than 1500 people, maybe more. I'm really looking forward to that. Being a part of such a huge choir (there are a few) and such a big concert - that's gotta be a rush.
Saturday, October 01, 2005
Spot the difference
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