::The Yellow Book::

An illustrated regular

About Me
name: Katrin
age: 21
location: Reykjavík, Iceland
nationality: Icelandic
msn: trinagunnars (at) hotmail (dot) com
reading: Mansfield Park, by Jane Austen. Old Arcadia, by Sir Philip Sidney.
listening to: My iPod
watching: Buffy DVDs, How I Met Your Mother and Gossssssip Girl
likes: sleep, Pepsi Max, YAs by Meg CabotTV and my late cat, Joakim
dislikes: Techno, mathfish  

   Blogs

             + Aldís María        
 
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+ Kolbrun
  
+ Erla
  
+ Gulla
             
+ Anna Margrét     +Eduardo

 

      Other links

   + My blogger.com profile
  
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+ Pictures/myndir 2005-2007 (Scotland)
  
+ KatSpace
  
+ Poet Katrin
  
+ Gavin DeGraw
  
+ My Bible
  
+ Meg Cabot official website
  
+ See This Movie
  
+ He with whom I compare all persons of the opposite sex
  
+ Officially a fan
  
+ Ugla
  
  + My old high school
  
+ My old college
  
+ The Uni Choir
  
+ Uni Choir chat
  
+
  
+ The BOG
  
+ Reykjavík weather

 

   Credits

   Host- Blogger
  
Skin-Blogskins
   
Designer-Dawnwake

 

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Wednesday, July 26, 2006

I'm off, then

I'd like to apologise for the lack of interesting blog posts in these last few weeks. My excuse is that I only can be bothered to go all the way back to our old place for the internet connection every other day or more seldom, and then only for 1-2 hours, during which I often cannot be bothered to write a long, interesting post. I blame the weather - it has some kind of dulling effect on me; there are a lot of things I just cannot be bothered to do.
This will probably be the last post in a while, perhaps weeks; I'm leaving for Iceland Friday morning, and we won't have any internet where we'll be staying. Perhaps grandma will let me write a short note, after SUB and I get up West (strange Icelandic geography. Don't ask.) the week after mom and BI's wedding.
I hope that by then, this blogger.com nonsense will have been straightened out. For some reason, all the options for bold, italics, pictures, hyperlinks etc. have disappeared - I'm writing this in a Blog This! window just to get some of those. You did notice how dull the last post looked, didn't you? Well, at least that wasn't because of my laziness - it was because of the blogger.com messed-up-ness. (I love making up new words.)
My little sister has finally learnt how to say my name. Or as close to it as a two-year-old can; I am now, instead of the occasional Gagi, Mami or Dadi, Katti. Pronounced like Matti - our bro's name - only with a 'K'. It's not quite Katrin yet, but she yells it everytime she sees me and everytime she's looking for me, so I'll take it. She's started to hug me again, too. There was a period when she just did not want me hugging her - I guess I was in the doghouse for some reason. Now she comes running if I hold out my arms to her. It really is wonderful.
Ach, time to go. Hope you'll take a few minutes to watch the video I posted below - I did that through google, not blogger.com, nota bene - it's about my favourite author, Meg Cabot!

Michel: "I feel like crap on toast." - Gilmore Girls
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-: Trina illustrated her blog at 17:53:-

A VidLit featuring author Meg Cabot

Want to know what a bestselling author does all day? Watch this VidLit Video to find out!

Meg Cabot, born Meggin Patricia Cabot, also writes under the pseudonyms Patricia Cabot and Jenny Carroll. She has written and published over 40 books for teens and adults, and is best known for her New York Times #1 Best-Selling book series The Princess Diaries, which was adapted into "The Princess Diaries" movies by Disney. The 1-800-WHERE-ARE-YOU series has a TV show based on the books called "Missing" on the lifetime channel. More than 15 million copies of her books—both young adult and adult—are in print worldwide. For more about Meg, visit www.MegCabot.com and www.MegCabotBookClub.com.

Recently released and forthcoming books include: Ready or Not, Avalon High, Size 12 is Not Fat, The Princess Diaries Volume VII: Party Princess, Queen of Babble, and How to Be Popular.
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-: Trina illustrated her blog at 17:13:-

Monday, July 24, 2006

Work ethics begone!

I've given up. I've given up on trying to muster up some self-discipline every day to try and teach myself French. It is the summer holidays now, anyway; why shouldn't I just... holiday? Self-discipline is for school (or work, but I've been idle in that respect since last summer), and if there is one season during which it's OK to be undisciplined and spend time irresponsibly. And I've got only four days now before we go to Iceland, so my time to spend irresponsibly is rapidly running out. So I've decided to put the French aside until school starts again; after all, I'm going to have more than enough free periods - though apparently Advanced Higher courses require much work outside of the class room; not a bad thing at all, it just means that I'll have something to do with my chasm of time between classes.

QotD: Duckie: You know what an older women does for me?
Iona: Changes your diapers?
Duckie: Touché - Pretty in Pink
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-: Trina illustrated her blog at 17:05:-

Sunday, July 16, 2006

Too hot! Too hot!

Too hot! Too hot!
The sun seems to be in a good mood these days - she just cannot stop smiling at us here in Edinburgh. Well, the whole United Kingdom, in fact. I think I might be the only one a bit bothered by this. Sure, I like the sun and the heat and all - to some extent. The heat has been in the high twenties (degrees Celsius) the last week/s, and the forecast predicts similar weather for the next five days (the five day forecast of course). This wonderful weather is messing with my work ethics, as well as my wardrobe. The first week after school ended officially, I set myself a schedule to follow every weekday; 9 AM: Wake up, ingest meds. 10 AM: Get out of bed etc, have breakfast. 11 AM: Take SUB outside in order to give mom peace and quiet to work. 12:30/13:00: Come inside, have lunch. (13:40-14:00: Watch Neighbours on BBC1) 14:00: Start studying French, preferably two units of my Teach Yourself French text book. 15:30-16:00: Should have finished the two units. 16:00-18:30: Whatever, perhaps go to Leven Terrace for internet access, perhaps read. 18:30: Dinner. After dinner: Wash the dishes (MANUALLY!!!!). Evening: Whatever I please.
The first week, this went fine. Conscientious gal all over again. Then the weather got great. Like, skirt-and-tube-great. So I stay outside with SUB and sometimes Matti for a bit longer, then I join them and mom on an intended lunch picnic at the Royal Botanic Gardens which turned into a whole day thing; we were back at around 16:00, and so on. Suddenly, not so conscientious anymore. So I think, screw the work ethic, I can just study later. But the thing is, I can't. There's always something else to interrupt me; I decided on the 2-4 schedule because that is SUB's nap time, so the flat is nice and silent, and I can shut myself in my room to study in peace. I've got to get back on track if I plan on finishing this French course before we go to Iceland - at the moment I'm at unit 13, out of 25. But really, I don't have to finish it this summer; this is just a goal I've set myself. I've got more than enough free periods next school year to finish the French text book - however, I would like to just get it done, and constantly putting it off just means disappointing myself. What I have to finish this summer, though, are A Portrait of the Artist As a Young Man by James Joyce, for English, and also Jane Austen's Sense & Sensibility, and preferably also Northanger Abbey and I would also looove to get started on Emma. But I do know that's an unrealistic goal, so I just hope to finish the first two I mentioned before I go to Iceland, and bring Northanger Abbey with me.
So you can see my dilemma.
The other thing that bothers me about the sun. Because the dress I'll be wearing and mom and BI's wedding is strapless, I can't wear a t-shirt or even a tank top outside, so I won't get tan lines. I have to wear a strapless tube top, and I've only got one. I'm getting pretty tired of always wearing the same clothes when I go outside - now I usually just put them on before I go outside and change right away when I get back home. Don't want to get that brown Dorothy Perkins tube too... worn...

QotD: Logan: "You do realise you're putting yourself at the cross here."
Rory: "Meaning?"
Logan: "There will be all manner of Huntzbergers in the audience."
Rory: "Oh, I can avoid people with the best of 'em."
Logan: "I didn't say people, I said Huntzbergers." - Gilmore Girls
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-: Trina illustrated her blog at 16:43:-

Monday, July 10, 2006

Congrats

Italy!
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-: Trina illustrated her blog at 17:48:-

Friday, July 07, 2006

Nothing in particular

Yeah, nothing in particular today, because I'm still working on the Belgium music trip post, which I will not finish within the short time that I've got online today.
Here are links to my most recent - and rather big - internet photo albums:
Lagganlia
JGHS Leavers' Ball
Belgium music trip

QotD: "Maybe it's 'cause of all the horrific things we've seen, but hippos wearing tutus just don't unnerve the way they used to." - Oz, Buffy the Vampire Slayer
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-: Trina illustrated her blog at 17:24:-

Sunday, July 02, 2006

Maturity

Whoa, as I am writing this, the sky is afire with thunder and lightning! And it's pouring rain. And more.
OK, so now for the last couple of days at Lagganlia: Saturday June 17th and Sunday June 18th (when we didn't really do anything except get our things together and watch Mulan in black and white. Well, cat's out of the bag!).
June 17th is not only the Independence Day of Iceland, but it also happens to be the birthday of Katy and Hannah Wr., this year their 18th. Therefore, there was much celebration. Present opening took up a while, even though they didn't receive some from everybody (I gave them each a hotel soap bar wrapped in a tenner, as I had accidentally forgotten to buy them presents). They had also bought a fair amount of party supplies, such as a load of balloons, flags, banners etc. A lot of us didn't bother to get dressed until before or even after dinner, we just stayed in our pj's. It was a cozy day in. Like every day, some of our human mermaids went swimming in the river, while the rest of us watched the Rocky Horror Picture Show - fast forwarding through most of it and only watching the songs, of course singing along. As I've only seen the film once before, I didn't know the songs and remained therefore silent. After dinner (I've forgotten what was served!), a time was set to start the birthday party. Because even though all the guests were there anyway, there has to be a specific time to start the partyin'. The birthday girls settled on half seven. Or was it eight? I forget. Anyway. We all dressed up to the nines - or sevens, perhaps, if nines would be the amount of fancyness that was worn at the Leavers' Ball (see photos here!). Before the party officially started, I and a few other girls, went for a short walk to visit the horsies that were grazing not far from Lagganlia. Unfortunately I forgot to bring my camera, and could therefore not take photos of the cute little filly. I, to my big surprise, found a plant which in Icelandic we call "hundasura", directly translated as "doggy sour" or sth like that; I don't know the English name of it. Anyway, this is a plant that I grew up picking and eating wherever I could find it, even just a patch of leaves in the grassy area outside my playschool, and as far as I know, all Icelanders know of it and/or have at some point had a bite. Therefore I was a bit surprised that the girls looked at me like I was a vegetating animal or something when I let out a small squeal when I spotted it, went over, picked it up and started eating the leaves. I explained about the edibleness and the tastiness, but only a few dared have a bite. Well, I certainly liked tasting some "hundasura" after 11 months of sobriety in that respect.
At the party, some pink champagne was drunk, some chocolate birthday cakes were eaten - after the candles had been blown out of course, - some music was played on Issy's speakers which were connected to sb's iPod/mp3 player, something else was drunk, conversations were had, drinking games were played; ordinary birthday party actions of course. Then there was something slightly out of the ordinary; there was a group of S6 kids from some Dundee high school who had come on Friday and observed us with curiosity - a big group of seemingly 17-19-year-old girls alone? Without teachers? Or adults? At Lagganlia? What is this? Well, somebody thought it would be funny and even interesting to invite those kids to the party. Most were timid and shy and kept to themselves, didn't say much, chuckle some, and I had a feeling they were chuckling at us. They didn't last long - I was inside so all of the "action" that I caught was that they were going in and out and in and out, saying they were going to get some other kids or something. So much for the socialising of country kids and big city gals. Their teachers, however, were not too happy that their dear precious innocent (yeah right) shepherds had been inside a lodge with 20 girls and alcohol - alone... We didn't get it. Inviting them over was just a friendly gesture. However, the next morning as a friendly gesture payback, one of the teachers threw a basket ball with all his might against the wall of our lodge, in the hopes of waking us up early. Haha? That's just too mature for teachers, isn't it? Of course, we were already up - some of us at least.
Sunday, like I already wrote, we spent packing our bags, eating as much as we could - for there was sooo much food still left over; the shoppers had hugely overestimated the combined size of our stomachs - and cleaning. When everything was ready, and the small coach had even already arrived - the driver came early so he could get some sleep before 4 PM, when he had been hired to drive us back to town - there was some board game playing and then some Mulan watching. I'd never seen that film in English before, and I thought it was - surprise surprise - way better than the dubbed Icelandic version. In the English version, Ming-Na, who played Dr Chen on ER talks for Mulan. That was really neat - just for once, a female heroine not voiced by Sigrun Edda Bjornsdottir. For years, she and Felix Bergsson always dubbed the main boy and girl in the Disney animated films, such as the Aladdin films, Beauty and the Beast, The Lion King. And Thorhallur "Laddi" Sigurdsson always dubbed the funny character, like Timon in the Lion King, Mushu in Mulan, the Genie in Aladdin, either the candelabra or the clock in Beauty and the Beast. He’s got a funny voice.
Anyways. The Lagganlia people said we could just leave the food for them and the people who would use the lodge after us - they needed it! This was a relief, as we would have had to bring most of the food back with us - divide it between us - and throw away the rest. And nobody likes to throw away food.
On the way back, it seemed most of us were very tired after all the exertion of being on holiday away from home, as opposed to the chattering excitement that reigned on the bus on the way to Lagganlia. I used the three hours it took to get back to Edinburgh to finish Size 12 Is Not Fat, and empty the battery on my iPod. Just in time!
QotD: Giles: "Here. I suspect your mother will want to, er… put it on the refrigerator."
Buffy: "Yeah. She saw these scores and her head spun around and exploded."
Giles: "I've been on the Hellmouth too long… That was metaphorical, yes?"
Buffy: "Yes." -
Buffy the Vampire Slayer
p.s. If you haven't seen them yet, you can find pictures from Lagganlia here.
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-: Trina illustrated her blog at 15:12:-

Saturday, July 01, 2006

How a kilt is traditionally worn

Man, the last few weeks have been so eventful, and I'm falling behind in blogging about them! I've still got one more tale of Lagganlia, then it's the whole Belgium music trip, and of course Thursday's JGHS Leavers' Ball! Since the last one is still fresh in memory, I'll write about that in this post, and as I assume the next few weeks will be rather uneventful, I'll take it one day at a time...
So. Thursday, June 29th. Woke up at 5:45 AM British time, on the ferry from Zeebrugge, Hull-bound. Breakfast at quarter to seven, arrived at Port of Hull at about 8, coach left at about 8:30, after some delay arrived at JGHS at 14:30. This left me an hour to get home, take a shower, dry my hair, before I had to go to Celeste Beauty Spa to det my make up done (by a very nice woman named Thursa), then an hour and 45 minutes to do my hair and get dressed, before I had to get to school. All in a hurry, of course. But I managed! After greeting - and photographing - some of my elegantly dressed graduating schoolmates (alas, only a few classmates!), the ceremony started. Not being among the ones graduating, I found a seat in the second row in the audience, next to some father no doubt, who frequently chuckled as the now former sixth years were handed their progress files (nope, no folders with exam results here; as a rule, the SQA doesn't send them out until August!). I don't know if the man was laughing with joy, or if he was secretly making fun of the kids, but he was obviously not just laughing at his own kid - whose identity I don't know - because he laughed at lots of them. I just smiled, just like everybody else. This was a happy occasion. After seeing all my yearmates (I just made that word up, fyi) formally leave the school, knowing that I alone was left to do this a whole year later, there was a champagne reception. Of course everybody was still smiling. I congratulated a few people, among others my registration classmate Saffiya. She was standing with her parents, and for the second time ever I was told that I resembled Nicole Kidman, this time by Saffiya's father. !!!!. He said that I "could be a double for Nicole Kidman." Excuse me? I think it may be the hairdo - the last time somebody commented on this, Miriam H., I was also wearing my hair in a chignon. I think I'll start doing it that way more often!
Three coaches took the whole class of '06 to the Balmoral, during which ride I saw a proof that it is not just in Rob Roy and Braveheart that Scottish males wear the kilts according to tradition; a couple of boys in the coach in front of the one I was in mooned the world. Nice.
When we got to the Balmoral, one uniformed usher after another showed us to the room where the ball was to be held. I took a picture of the menu, and Hannah B, who was sitting next to me, graciously modelled all three courses for me. (I'll post a link for the internet album with the photos from prom as soon as I can get them uploaded!) Needless to say, they were all delicious. After dinner, some tables were cleared off the dancefloor and for a while some '80s music was played, while the ceilidh band set up. Shortly after, the ceilidh dancing started, and my oh my do the Scots love to dance traditional dances. And not surprising at all: it's really fun, even if you don't know the dances step by step. Before each dance, the band gave simple instructions, but just saying the name of the dance, a lot of the kids knew how it went. I, of course, was like a chicken, but it was fun all the same, and after a few minutes (each dance is up to ten minutes!) I usually got the hang of it. Usually. I kicked off my shoes before dancing, as my shoes have slight heels and are not completely fastened (and can therefore easily fly off), and the brand new - disposable - M&S tights I wore bore new memories after each dance. From now on they will only be worn cut up in my hair, after being washed of course. I also put on the convenient short, small jacket before dancing, in case the dress would slide down just a little. Alas, one time it didn't make much of a difference - the dress twisted so much that when the dance ended the zipper was at the front, and a little black showed. I have no idea, and don't want to know, if any more black had showed while I was dancing.
When most everybody, including teachers, were either tipsy or even pissed, and sweaty from all the dancing, I witnessed a second proof of how the Scottish traditional costume for men is worn. And this time a little more explicitly. I was standing by the dancefloor where the huge windows were open, to get some fresh air, when a rather smashed guy whose name I don't remember (obviously I can't remember all 100+ names, most of whom I didn't even know!), who had just finished a dance, came and took a seat on the window sill by which I happened to be standing with a couple of other girls. However, the little crack of the window that was open was not nearly enough for him, so he opened it up completely, and climbed out. This could only end in trouble, one way or another. Some of his friends who came over to try to coax him inside again assured that he had climbed higher heights, so this was nothing for him. However, drunk as he was, he hadn't remembered that he was wearing a kilt, and so when he was climbing out, the lower part of his attire slid up his things, revealing the family jewels to everybody in the vicinity. When informed of this after he was back inside, all his drunken self said was something along the lines of, "Oops. Sorry". No shyness there...
The ball ended at midnight, and everybody headed to afterparties or whatever plans they had. I went with Anna, Katie, Lyndsay and Emma F. to Lyndsay's house to relax for a while and get something to drink before heading out to the Links, where most of the S6 had decided to spend the night - the whole night that is. 10 minutes turned into 40 minutes. After a mobile conversation with Sam, Katie informed us that at the moment everybody was at Ewan's house ("Who's that" I asked), which happened to be in just the next street to Lyndsay's, so we decided to go see who was there before going to the Links. And, it turned out, everybody was there; including the people we had previously agreed to meet at the Links. Well, OK then. At this party, I again witnessed how a kilt is traditionally worn, this time only partially. Thankfully. It was an unpleasant sight, which I will not describe in detail, only that it involved two drunk guys, an umbrella, and a bum.
Having watched people having fun while under influence, and knowing that I couldn't do that myself, nor that I could stay up all night with them before going back to school the next day for the end of year assembly and to get our yearbooks - While shattered of course - I found it too depressing to be around anymore, so at about 2:30 AM I called a cab to go home. It just so happened that right before I left, the police had been called by annoyed neighbours, and the party had to be broken up, so as I was leaving everybody was heading to the Links to spend the night there.
So as not to stand out from the crowd, I slept perfectly still on my side, so neither my hair nor make-up was ruined. Much. Then when I woke up I put on my whole outfit, aside from the messed up tights and not-so-appropriate-when-recently-woken-up shoes, which I replaced with heel socks and white low-top Converses. Then I took the bus to school - with mom's umbrella while walking to and from the bus stops of course - and what do you know, I arrived two hours after everybody else, who had stayed up all night and come to school at 8 AM, wearing their ball gowns or kilts. We received our yearbooks, signed and signed, and then took our seats on the stage in the hall (!) during the end of year assembly, while only a part of the rest of the school was cramped into the hall. After some performances the younger classes had rehearsed during alternative timetable week (when I was on the Belgium music trip) the song Bamboleo, which the S6 Diversecity (and no, this word is not misspelled) dance was danced to, was played, and we all walked out of the hall, down off the stage by a few red-carpeted steps that had been added for this purpose, together. The younger classes both frowned in jealousy, smiled in adoration, or (mostly) laughed at us, probably because we were still wearing the clothes from the night before.
For about an hour after the end of year assembly, there was more signing, goodbyes were said, and there was tear-shedding (not by me, nota bene; I'm not leaving :( Though I was a bit sad to see everybody getting to leave for uni or a gap year or whatever, while I was left behind to stay on another year with a new S6 class) by some. It suited the overall mood that it was pouring rain, as opposed to the warmness of Thursday.
So. I think that's it. This has been my account of the last two days of my former S6 classmates at JGHS.
QotD: "Will the people in the cheaper seats clap your hands! And the rest of you can just rattle your jewellery." - John Lennon
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-: Trina illustrated her blog at 21:19:-

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