::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  

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Friday, September 29, 2006

Me and the German boys

I believe I have written before about how I'm doing Advanced Higher German this year, and how I'm the only girl out of five students doing this course. Well, as of this week, I am the only girl out of FOUR students studying German at Advanced Higher level. Thomas, my pal in not-being-a-native-German-speaker decided that it would be more benefitting for him to do AH (or A-Level?) Chemistry rather than German, since he's planning on going to med school. A wise choise, I agree, but this leaves me in a class with one German boy, one half-Swiss boy, and one stranger from a school far far away who doesn't even stay for Thursday sixth period speaking session with the German assistant.
So now I am, every Thursday, stuck in a small meeting room (the chairs are very comfy, though) with three native German speakers for one hour, during which we are supposed to speak only German. So not intimidating at all, not at all.
And OK, so we don't really speak German the whole hour - thank God; I mean, I can handle the reading, writing, listening and grammar stuff, and even reading out loud with fairly correct pronounciation, but improvising on the spot? Not so much. So the German speaking part of the hour consists basically of the boys (because the assistant is really still a boy - only 24) talking fast enough for me to catch about two out of three words. The assistant says that if I'm not getting it, then I should please ask them to slow down, however, it's a bit distracting that he's a)Not a girl, b)Not weird as one would expect of a German who would choose to come to Scotland to teach secondary school pupils, C)Not unattractive and D)As I've alredy written, only 24 years of age, which coincides uncomfortably with exhibit C).
Besides, it's helpful for me to be forced to pay attention to every word - the hard part is when I'm asked a question I have to answer in German. See above re: improvising part.
Oh well, I won't make this any longer. I've got nothing more to say, anyway.
Nightie night!
QotD: Bethany Sloane: Why are we here?
God: [pokes Bethany's nose] Nweep. - Dogma
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-: Trina illustrated her blog at 22:04:-

Tuesday, September 19, 2006

Belgium

I've been promising to tell you about the JGHS music trip to Belgium.25.06.06-29.06.06 for a while now, and here the story finally is! I decided not to post it in bits, because I've been writing this in the same document and couldn't be bothered to divide it into two or three parts. So just prepare yourself for all 4594 words that you're about to read.
Actually, all those words of the first sentence are key - it wasn't just Belgium; 2/5 of the trip were actually the journey to and from Belgium. That is to say, 3 out of 5 days we spent in Belgium, and 2 days put together travelling. First it must be taken into account that it only cost 260 pounds per person, so it is not really that surprising, nor necessarily a bad thing, that in order to keep costs down, we travelled by coach and then ferry, instead of just flying straight over to Ghent. The coach ride to Hull took approximately 5 hours - a little less than I had thought before; the itinerary said the coach would depart from JGHS at 10 AM, and then we would board the ferry at 5 PM. So I just assumed those 7 hours would be spent on the coach. And they were, in fact, mostly; they included stopping twice for food and toilet visiting, one hour put together. Apparently it's in the law or something; when a group of some size or bigger is taken on a journey for a specific amount of time or more, two stops are compulsory. The seven hours also included waiting for at least 40 minutes at the Port of Hull, while Mrs O'Brien and Nathan the coach driver went to do something and/or talk to some people, before we could get on the ferry.
BI dropped me off by the archway entrance to the school slightly before 9:15 AM, when the senior vocal group members had been told to come, whereas the wind band members were supposed to come to the library at 9 AM. OK, so this might be too detailed, but there’s a reason. You see, I didn't remember where exactly we were supposed to come - there are three streets that JGHS is by, and usually coaches wait at either of two of those (if that sentence made sense to you, kudos). It just so happened that, when it was about 9:20 and still neither a soul nor a coach in sight, I realised that I was on the wrong side. I therefore had to walk the whole way around to the other side, and what do you know! There everybody is, loading the coach! Ach, I was embarrassed, but it wasn't a big deal, as we weren’t scheduled to leave until 10 AM anyway. There were about 50 of us pupils, and we were divided into family groups, each family looked after by a teacher. I was in the Heron family, looked after by Miss Heron. We asked her if we could call her "mum". She said no. We did it anyway - when we remembered, that is. Since the Heron family was so lucky to be the first one to get on the coach, I, Emma, Anna, Rosie and Neena got the backseat. Fun.
Picture this: 50 kids aged 13-19 (I assume). Estimated 6 hours in an enclosed space - a coach on the move. I would have felt sorry for the other grown-ups (because of course I myself am a grown-up), if the coach hadn't been equipped with two tiny televisions with DVD-players, and some people hadn't brought DVDs. To me, it felt like I had never before watched a film that early in the morning - but it was already 10:15 or so when somebody put Zoolander in the DVD player, and I'm pretty sure I've watched films earlier when I was younger, and even rather recently. Not sure how recently, though. After Zoolander was finished, somebody fished out Napoleon Dynamite, and after that, The Waterboy. I don't understand how Adam Sandler can go through entire films - and the shooting of them generally takes months, pending on size - speaking in some weird voice. He did it in Little Nicky as well, and probably some other films as well. He's that kind of an actor, I guess.
Like I already wrote, we were finally onboard the ferry at about 17:30 or so. I shared a cabin with Rosie, Emma and Anna, and it was tiny. Obviously. The shower integrated with the toilet itself, so I decided to shower at the hostel, when we got to Belgium, rather than there. Not using the shower didn't stop me from parttaking in the conspiring to "steal" the four small bottles of shower gel and shampoo that were in the bathroom. What? It was there for us, so why shouldn't we use it, regardless of location?
Dinner on the ferry was in the form of a buffet, at which all the passengers (I assume) on the ferry also had dinner. Oh man, there was so much delicious looking food there, and I stuffed my plate with as much as I could - including chicken, lamb, chips and salad. Alas, I forgot to take a photo.
Believe it or not, there was actually a disco on the ferry. Really. There was a bar, seats, a dance floor, and even a live cover band, with a female lead singer. To me it seemed kinda sad - I mean, this kind of band is what Simon Cowell frequently compares the American Idol contestants that he doesn’t like to. But the woman wasn’t a bad singer at all, and she seemed to be having fun, so good for her.
Us students had been instructed to assemble at the disco at 10 PM to register - check in with the heads of our family. Many of the students danced a bit. Or a lot. I didn’t. Not really my kind of music to dance to, so I just watched the bags and the cabin key. A funny thing. I was sitting on this kind of upholstered bench that was along the wall, and by the next table but on the same bench, an elderly couple was sitting. I had my camera up, and had taken a couple of photos, when the man leaned towards me and asked if I could do him a favour. Curious and surprised, I said sure, and he asked me to take a photo of some elderly guy who was sitting in a chair next to the dance floor, watching the kids dancing - there were also kids from other schools there. He said there was something wrong with that man; he didn't know what, but there was something wrong with him. I took the photo, and that was the end of it. A couple of times later the guy shot me a knowing glance, but I've no idea what this whole thing was about. I deleted the photo - it was kinda vague anyway; I haven't got a zoom lens on my camera.
The next morning we woke up early to have breakfast before the ferry arrived at Zeebrugge. I think it was at about 7:30 AM - but it was even earlier for us, because that was at Belgian time: GMT+2, whereas British time is GMT+1. So it was really like having breakfast at 6:30 AM. That’s, like, farm time. Well, perhaps not that early. Anyway. We had to have our passports inspected again when we came into the building after getting off the ferry (I'm not sure what it's called - I guess it's like an airport, only for ships instead of airplanes), and of course I spotted mine easily when Mrs O'Brien was handing them out - she kept all the passports with her, because of course a bunch of teenagers can't be trusted with such valuable and important documents - as it's blue, while all the others were burgundy. Man, people were so interested in it for that very reason. "It's BLUE? Can I see? Is this ICELANDIC? Cool!" and so on. Everybody was looking at each other's passports - more to the point, the passport photos, which got me to think of how freaking old mine is. Almost three years old! I’ve got really really dark hair in it - I had just dyed it when the photo was taken. It's the same one as on my debit card. Personally, I think I’ve changed a lot since I was 16, but people still said they saw easily that this was me.
Darn.
A drive from Zeebrugge to Ghent is supposedly about an hour, but due to some getting lost in the one-way-narrow-cobbled-stone-streets in the city centre, we arrived at De Draecke hostel at least an hour later than planned. We went in several circles up and down the same streets - a bit of sight seeing - before a good Samaritan, a regular citizen in fact, came on the coach and directed Nathan the coach driver to the hostel. A nice first impression of the Ghent people, yes? The people at the hostel were just as nice - what we saw of them that is. Mrs O'Brien was the one who told us what to do - the people who worked there pretty much worked through her. Because we were too early to check in, we had to stash all our stuff in some conference room on the first floor, before we headed out for a walk to inspect the town. Mrs O'Brien split us up into two groups, one of which headed for a cathedral called St-Baafskathedraal, and the other one went to a castle called, if I remember correctly, Gravensteen.Then after about an hour, the groups switched. However, this wasn't until after we had had our first ever lunch in Belgium. Naturally everybody was starved at around noon, having only had breakfast at approx. 7 on the ferry. So we were set loose in the city centre to find our own place to eat, and we had about an hour. It took us - Anna, Rosie, Emma, David, Alex and me - about 15 minutes just to find a suitable restaurant. The one we chose was a small, dimly lit restaurant/bar called De Koninck. The waitress there taught us how to say thank you in Flemish: danku. Apparently, the Belgians are very into cheese, and the onion soup-of-the-day I had had melted cheese on the bottom. It tasted god and all, but it was kinda weird; all of a sudden my spoon just scooped up a string of cheese, which I had no idea at all was in there!
The teachers had been very strict emphasising that we absolutely had to be at the appointed meeting place - a square in front of the castle - at twenty to two. Naturally most of us did that. But not everybody, no sirrah. And just guess who they were that were almost twenty minutes late? The teachers of course! They didn't all come at the same time, but Mrs O'Brien and a couple of others were the very last to show up! This caused much embarrassment on their side and much good-natured teasing and scolding on our - the students' - side.
The cathedral and the castle were both very impressive and, well, cool; I love to visit such old buildings, and 15th-16th century churches are always sooo big and well decorated and full of statues of saints and beautiful paintings of saints and Jesus etc. I estimate that at least a third of all the pictures I took on the trip I took in the cathedral and then Sint Michielskerk, in which we had the concert on Tuesday. That church is just as impressive, only a bit smaller. But do not be fooled by the adjective "smaller"; it does not mean that the church was at all small - only smallER than the cathedral. Because both are immense.
Anyway. Back to De Draecke, keys were handed out, with directions that we had one hour to ourselves before dinner would be served in the canteen at 6. I shared a room with Rosie, Anna, Emma and Alex. You know how in warmer countries they often don't have duvets on the beds, only sheets - like in every other American movie? Well, of course there were sheets at De Draecke. I didn't have a problem with that at all - it was quite warm - but I had never before in my life made my own bed with just sheets. I took a look at Anna's bed when she'd made it up, and had a bash at it. And I did it! First try, even! And it wasn't hard at all!
I don't remember what we were served for dinner, but I do remember that there was some chocolate pudding box waiting for each and every person at the tables - genuine Belgian chocolate of course. I didn't eat mine; I was still on a no-chocolate-or-sweets diet, but I brought it up to the room and took it with me back home and ate it later, a couple of days after the Leavers' Ball. It tasted quite good!
Later that night there was supposed to be a rehearsal for the entire group; bands and vocal group both. However, because of all the hustle and bustle with the band rehearsals - moving the instruments from and back to the bus, there simply wasn't time for a vocal group rehearsal. Mrs O'Brien sent us with Ms Heron upstairs to the conference room to warm up - those of us who weren't in any of the bands, that is - but we never ended up going through the songs. Mrs O'Brien said we'd just have to have a long rehearsal at the church the next day - the last one before the concert. We all wondered, weren't we supposed to have a long rehearsal then anyway? In addition to the one that was supposed to be that night. I think it reflected the general attitude towards the senior vocal group at the school perfectly, how this was handled; it's the least important musical group in the whole music department, which means it's always the last priority, even though it means only fifteen minutes of rehearsals once a week - ergo only two to three songs. You'd think that in a school which focusses so much on music and has such a big music department, they'd make more time and work for a real choir, instead of just gathering everybody who's interested - vocal capabilities present or not - once a year to perform one or two songs at the Christmas Carol Concert. There is no music department at all at MR, my old school, and they still got themselves together and put together a real choir about twelve years ago, I think, which has got quite good (it is, in fact, generally considered the second best college choir in the country, after the MH choir) under the leadership of Marteinn H. Fridriksson, the renowned and experienced organist and choir conductor at the Cathedral of Reykjavik, and I think he also taught at a music school in the city as well. And there was - is - actually interest in the choir at MR; when I was in it, the member count was about 50-60 or even more, but this was in 2003-05 - it might be higher or lower now. Even better, they have more than three songs on the repertoire, and rehearsals twice a week for an hour and a half at a time. Not to mention the full-length Christmas and Spring concerts.
But I digress. After the band rehearsals - during which us singers just sat around in the foyer by the canteen, where the rehearsals took place, and chatted - we had some free time to go outside if we wanted, but of course with a ten o'clock curfew. I went outside with my roommates minus Anna plus David. We didn't know where to go, so we just walked to the city centre (or a part of it, at least!) where we'd walked before, and whaddyaknow: there was a McDonald's not far from it. I myself hadn't noticed it before, but I don't know about the others. According to some map for young backpackers, there's only one McDonald's in Ghent, and it says there that "(they're) not telling where it is!" They being the people who wrote the tidbits of info that were in the map booklet. Alex and Emma wanted to go there to get something, while the rest of us waited at a table. For an international franchise (crappy) fast-food chain, they had actually tried to make it sophisticated; the tables were wooden and Habitat-esque, and there were huge gold coloured crystal (fake probably) chandeliers in the ceiling. Seriously. If it weren't for the standard McD's counter, and the golden arches outside and above the counter, you might have mistaken it for a real restaurant.
Of course we respected our curfew, and were back in the lounge/café at the hostel by 10 PM, where we were supposed to check in with Mrs O'Brien. She was a bit annoyed, because not everybody did so.
The morning after we had breakfast (obviously). The milk tasted kinda funny. After breakfast we had some time to get ready and do what we wanted, before we would go to the church where the concert would be held at three (or was it four?) o'clock. A bunch of us therefore made a beeline for a chocolate shop not so far from the cathedral we had seen the day before - we were starting to know that neighbourhood, the city centre I guess. Naturally a Belgian chocolate shop is a must-go-to when you're in Belgium! It was so cool - the chocolate was actually MADE there, in the basement! And there was this window in the floor (with a rope around it of course) so you could see down in to one of those machines that was stirring brown chocolaty chocolaty goodness, and a little bit of a counter where a man was pouring white chocolate into these forms to make the pretty pretty pieces. I bought some very delicious-looking plate of white chocolate wrapped in vintage yellowish paper with a blue waterpaint print of some woman walking. Really neat. I also bought a box with four fancy chocolates for mom and Bjorgvin. The white was to be for us all. Obviously I did not even taste it until I got back home!
On the way back to the hostel, we came across apart of our musical group; the pipe band was randomly marching through town, playing, with some of the others walking behind, and then they stopped on the square in front of the cathedral and continued playing. Some of the others had a big Scottish flag which they held high, or draped over their shoulders. Then suddenly out of the blue, somebody got the idea that they should dance ceilidh-dances to the music! And they did! Not me - oh no. I do not dance ceilidh dances unless in a large, dimly lit room/hall, where half of the people are as clueless as me. I also had my bag and my chocolates,which I did not want to break, and my camera, so I didn't exactly have my hands free. But I took a bunch of pix and a couple of short videos (I don't know how to post videos, and besides, my camera doesn't record sound).
I think it was around noon that we left the hostel with some brown-paper-bag-style packed lunches, Nathan the Bus Driver heading for Sint Michielskerk, where the concert would be held. There, of course, everybody rehearsed, but the Senior Vocal Group started, so we got to listen to the rest of the bands play. And they were all totally good. Especially the wind band, of which the whole group was mostly made. They played two pieces; A Walk in the Black Forest and Jack Sparrow's theme song from Pirates of the Caribbean, only arranged for a wind band, instead of an orchestra. I liked it so much that when I got home I downloaded it off the internet (the orchestra version). I tried to find the other one, but I couldn't.
We ate the contents of our brown paper bags outside the church on the bank of a canal, on which tourist boats floated by every two minutes. There were at least three boats containing school children (Belgian I assume) who waved at us and splashed water on each other as the boats passed. Obviously there were other people there, among them a couple of hippy-looking girls. One of them came up to us and asked in very crippled English if we had a lighter. She had to ask a lot of us until somebody actually understood her. It appeared that she needed fire to light her joint. Amusing yet interesting.
I think it was about a hundred people who showed up for the concert, most of them elderly citizens. I think they may just have been some group of tourists on a guided package trip for pensioners who happened to pass by and see the poster. Aside from that, I think the concert went fairly well, and people returned rather smiley to the bus.
After dinner (with a Belgian chocolate pudding thing in a box which I took with me back home instead of eating it there) at the hostel, we went on the canal cruise. That was my favourite part of the trip so far. It reminded me of how much I love just sailing on a small boat - albeit this was not quite the same thing as sailing on my grandpa's small boat on Dyrafjordur - and not to mention that it was incredibly beautiful. I've forgotten now what the guide's name was, but she was very nice. She told us all about all the houses we saw and the places we passed - it was really very interesting. I took a few videos on my camera, but unfortunately I can't post them here. I'm working on a YouTube.com thing though, so I might get them on the internet soon, at least.
After the canal cruise, we had some free time (curfew 10 PM of course) during which some events took place - I will not go into any details here - and which provided the entire discussion material for the rest of the trip. No one can say this trip was uneventful...
The Wednesday itinerary had only two bulletpoints; Bellewaerde and board ferry back to the UK. What is Bellewaerde, you ask? It happens to be a rather big amusement park in Belgium! And we spent the entire sunny sunny day there. It was heaps and heaps of fun - we went on all sorts of rides (though I sat a couple out on account of my epilepsy and all; I wasn't sure if they were safe for me in that way), even this one, which happened to be very wet (though the sun dried us up pretty quickly) and very fast. And no belts. This "Camp Niagra" ride was the last one we went on before we had to meet up with everybody and leave, and on our way back to the entrance a funny thing happened. We were walking past a bit of garden (it's kind of hard to explain, though now I wish I had taken a picture!) where a couple of men were working, shovelling some heavy stones and/or earth, if I remember correctly. One of them was really really buff and happened to not be wearing a shirt. Naturally, being girls and all, a few pairs of eyes stayed on him as we walked past. And when eyes finally had to be torn off because we were too far past, he actually whistled! Or winked or shouted something - I don't remember clearly! Remind me! He had, in fact, stopped working when he noticed how much attention was being paid to his sweat-shiny, tanned six-pack, and whistled (I repeat: maybe it was something else). Mh-mh-mh.
Although I wore my strapless tube top, so as not to get tan lines (strapless John Lewis ballgown that I was going to wear the very next day, remember!) the previously accidentally created tan lines did not disappear, faded a bit at most. Even though the weather was unbelievably good - not a cloud in the blue sky and the sun shone mercilessly down on us.
The whole journey back home, everybody was pretty beat, but a part (OK, the majority) of the travellers, including some teachers, defied the fatigue the last night on the ferry and danced ceilidh dances to salsa music at the bar, and did the Macarena. I regretted that I didn't bring my camera, as seeing teachers out of their natural habitats - with a stern face in their classroom - was quite amusing. I could have taken a silent video, too. Oh well. C'est la vie.
I was, for some reason, really irritated on the bus on the way from Hull to Edinburgh. I guess I was, like all the other sixth year girls, worried that we'd arrive so late that we'd miss our appointments - I know that Rosie missed her make-up appointment - or not have enough time to get ready. It's not as easy for us girls as it is for the boys; just take a quick shower, throw on a suit/kilt outfit and voila: ready to go. Anyway: we did arrive on time for me at least. However I was worried and tired and especially annoyed that I couldn't even try to get some sleep since Braveheart was playing really really loud - although a lot of people complained about the volume and tried to get the people with the remote/closest to the tv to turn it down. Well, my attempt at a solution was to stuff my earphones in my ears and turn up the volume on my "sleepy-songs" playlist on my iPod. Didn't work. The cries of the fighting and dying men at the Battle of Bannockburn still interfered with Ewan McGregor's soft vocals in his Moulin Rouge! rendition of Elton John's "Your Song". It wasn't until after we'd finally got back that Rosie, who sat next to me, could totally hear it, too. She was also annoyed with the Braveheart noisiness, though, so I wasn't interfering with her attention to it or anything. I think one of the reasons why I was so annoyed was that I am kinda sick of Braveheart, due to my having watched it scene-by-scene repeatedly during an entire weekend last September, while writing an essay on it. That's right: I think I know one of my mother's all-time favourite films better than her.
So. Well. That's about it for the JGHS Belgium Music Trip, but if you want to read on about the rest of the last day - which happened to be just as eventful, being the night of the Leaver's Ball and all - just click here (if you didn't already read it two months ago).
Goodbye tonight, then!
QotD: Angel: "Why would a woman I've never met even talk to me?"
Allen Francis Doyle: "Have you looked in the mirror lately? No, I guess you really haven't, no." - Angel
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-: Trina illustrated her blog at 22:00:-

Wednesday, September 13, 2006

Bzzzzz

I went to the zoo on Sunday with some people from school. It was fun; the weather was unusually nice, for the tenth of freaking September, and my face even reddened a bit! It's fading quickly now, but the point is: how and why is it even possible for me, the palest ghost on this side of the equator, to get red in September?
I'll tell you how: global warming, that's how it's possible.
Although I did not get stung, I also attracted no less than five wasps in the space of three hours. Seriously . They should all be dead by now. I guess they were just trying to find something, anything, to sting, now that their final hours were approaching; there wasn't anything about me that would attract insects with wings and sharp noses/rear ends. I was not wearing bright colours, I did not wear a strong flowery-frangrant perfume, I was not eating sweets, ice cream or anyhting sugary. They just flew up to me and were all "Excuse me, we would like some red-blooded Viking right about now. You mind if we sting you?" And this they communicated by flying up to my ears (apparently one all but sat on my earring), nose, throat and pretty much anywhere they must have assumed I could hear them. Unfortunately for them, all I heard was a faint "Bzzzzbzzzzbzzzz."
QotD: Richard: "Oh my God, I'm getting pulled over. Everyone, just... pretend to be normal." - Little Miss Sunshine
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-: Trina illustrated her blog at 21:54:-

Monday, September 11, 2006

Just saw

Little Miss Sunshine. I loved it. Abigail Breslin is the most adorable kid ever. As soon as the DVD comes out, I am buying it. I gave it a 10 (excellent!) on imdb.com. And it so deserved it. Totally lived up to the trailer. People actually applauded when it was over. And one person applauded during the pageant dancing scene!
Could I write an entire post without any subordinate clauses? It wouldn't be me. I usually have two or three or more. Therefore I will not attempt it. Good night.

QotD: Dwayne: "Do what you love. Fuck everything else." -Little Miss Sunshine
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-: Trina illustrated her blog at 00:48:-

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

After numerous references to him

in the Princess Diaries series, I finally googled Joshua Bell, the famous violinist, and found out that not only is he as talented as said to be, but he is also quite handsome. One character in the Princess Diaries series, Boris Pelkowski, is a violinist who worships Joshua Bell, and his screen name is even JoshBell2 (if I remember correctly). I think it was about time I looked him up, after reading so much about this classical music idol. Not sorry I did.

QotD: Ricky Butler: "Green sky at morning, neighbor take warning."
Ray Peterson: "Green sky at night?"
Ricky Butler: "Neighbor take flight?" The 'burbs
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-: Trina illustrated her blog at 00:23:-

Monday, September 04, 2006

How can money be the root of all evil, if shopping is the cure for all sadness?

I'm just sayin'.

Herer are some birthdays in the last few weeks, which I have neglected to report:
September 3rd - My mother's 39th (for the 3rd year in a row)
August 24th- My dad's 46th
August 24th - Cousin Viktor's 8th
August 20th - James Marsters (a.k.a. "William 'Spike' the Bloody")'s 44th

Happy birthday to all of you!
On a sadder note: Steve "The Crocodile Hunter" Irwin died today, at the age of 44. He was killed by a stingray barb through his chest, during a diving expedition off the coast of Queensland, Australia.

QotD: Thomas Andrews: "Sleep soundly young Rose for I have built you a good ship, strong and true, it has all the lifeboats you need." - Titanic (Well, we all know that didn't quite turn out to be true.)
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-: Trina illustrated her blog at 15:23:-

Saturday, September 02, 2006

Correction

I would like to post a correction for the entry posted Friday before last, titled Jobs. As I've already written, the main subject of that post, my mother, was a bit grumbly about it, and has now issued a formal complaint about some points.
Point One: She maintains that I do not, indeed, clean for her; I do it for the family.
Point Two: She also maintains that I do not, again, cook for her; I also do that for the family and myself, and would like to point out that everybody in the family - aside from 2-year-old Sigrun Ugla, pitches in by having their very own cooking day/-s.
Point Three: In relation to the above points - this hosuehold is not still stuck in the 50's, when the home was completely the a-la-Pleasantville responsibility of the mother. Therefore I am not helping my mother by cooking once a week and cleaning my own room and one bathroom once a week.

QotD: Rory: "Asher Flemming is dead."
Marty: "In bed?"
Rory: "No."
Marty: "Damn, I lost the pool." - Gilmore Girls
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-: Trina illustrated her blog at 20:02:-

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