Assessment 1

Articulation

The first assessment out of 8 for this term. They basically decide whether you pass or fail the subject (and if you fail one subject, you fail the whole year, sooo yeah), and come in many different forms. For articulation it was a 10 minute presentation. Easy, you say? That’s what I thought when we first got the task as well. But I fear short presentations are like paper cuts; sometimes loads worse than a bigger cut. 

But, at any rate, I passed. So, one down and seven to go. 

(For my folktale I did “kjærringa mot strømmen”, that got many surprised gasps and laughs).

Yorkshire Pudding

You don't know what you're missing 'til you tried it,

and when you tried it, you will form a permanent bond to it (also known as addiction).

Room Tour

(To view a bigger version of each picture, click on it) 

So, just to refresh your memory, this is what my room looked like after I’d slept in it for one night – i.e., what it looked like the day after I moved in.

Now, 7 weeks and a few days later: 

 

 And for this to be a complete tour, for you to get a propper feel of what it looks like, here are some more pictures. ;D 

 

(Don't forget you can click on one of the pictures for bigger view, and then flip through them all).

 The two last pictures are for three people home in Norway whom I reckon will recognise the items depictured (if you don't I will be very disappointed).

No Smoking Area

«Smoking is not permitted anywhere in this flat» 

This doesn’t seem to mean that much to some of my flat mates, as two of them are currently filling the kitchen with the stench of smoke; the little white sticks perched between their fingers. And it’s not the first time.

They say they didn’t apply for a smoking flat because then the whole flat would reek of it and the smell would get stuck on their clothes.

I don’t really mind when we have parties and a condom is pulled over the fire alarm. I guess that’s just how student life is, and there’s nothing really to be done about it. At the very least they open the windows and the smell would be gone in the morning. – Granted, the half full plastic cups sporting cigarette butts swimming in dead alcohol is not a charming welcome the day after, but I am willing to also tolerate this as a part of student life.

In the beginning the smokers in my flat would go outside, standing in the door opening ‘til they had satisfied their cravings, and come back in. It seems the walk to the entrance door has become too much of a hassle.

But it’s not worth it to get into a fight about. There’s another girl in my flat who finds it quite annoying as well, but we have come to the conclusion that we’re just staying here for one year, and for the sake of the relatively good atmosphere we got going in our flat it’s not worth it to be the “goodie two-shoes” of the flat. It’s just going to create a small hostile simmer under the surface between us all, and at the current moment there’s too much drama going on in the accommodation to add more to it.

So we vent silently to each other instead.

It's The Little Things

That make our day. 

So, we suddenly had some hours off out of the blue for some reason we don’t know. Instead of going home and getting started on homework (as a good student), I went to homebase, and it was as I was paying that it happened. 

There was only one counter open, and operating it was an old man. I was not really paying attention, and so I missed what he said when he spoke to me. 

“Pardon?” I say.

“How are you doing today?” he repeats, and it's just something about the way he gives me his full attention and actually looks at me instead of focusing on the machine that gives me the distinct impression that he sincerely cares.

“Oh, well, I’m quite good,” I reply slightly befuddled, before hurriedly smiling and adding, “how are you doing?”

“Good –well, so far so good.” He makes a face somewhere between a smile and a tired grimace.

“That’s good,” I say and he suddenly opens his arms, gesturing toward the doors only a few feet away, his face brightening - yet a tint of aged wisdom knowing to appreciate the simple thing we are given remain deep in his eyes. 

“And the sun is shining.”

“Yes, it is a very good day, actually,” I say, glancing out and briefly reflecting upon how warm this day actually is in comparison to the last weeks, my smile widening.

Then he proceeds to huff good-naturedly at the computer – and technology in general – as we wait for it to register my payment.  He tells me to be careful not to carry the lava lamp in a lying fashion (as that is what I bought), and wishes me a good day.

7 Aays In A Week

7 dinners to cook.

I took a picture of every (well, almost every) meal I had this week. This is more or less what I eat over here, with a few variations and not necessarily in this exact order. 

Before I came here, I thought I was going to have great trouble making dinner every day, that it was something I’d maybe do every once in a while but not bother with every day. Since it’s just me I’m making for. You know? And even though I am now making the quickest dinners I can, and taking loads of short-cuts, making a proper (as “proper” as a student dinner can get) food without having to suffer through it has come surprisingly easily. 

So, without further ado, allow me to present, my dinners:  

Monday

 Tuesday

Tuesday is my long day, from 9 'til 20.30, so I don't really eat dinner. I pack 3 bagels and some fruit that lasts me through the school day and when I get home I eat a slice of bread and go to sleep. 

Wednesday

(I had way more than this, though, ate 8 pancakes all in all)

Thursday

Friday

Saturday

This Saturday I went out to eat with some friends, to a place called Bella Italia (had a Calzone with biff marinated in Italian red wine. It was heavenly). But I don't eat out every week end - my wallet wouldn't survive it. 

Sunday

(Do you see the tomatoes? Do you see them? Good. I'm not being entirely unhealthy).