The life of the amazing Nomad

Well, there's the moving van!

2007-03-02T10:45:00.000-08:00

Hi guys, I'm moving to a wordpress blog, you can find me at www.acamelherdersdaughter.wordpress.com

peace and bariis!

Acacia Trees

2007-02-01T16:02:00.000-08:00

I think I'm in love.

I think I'm in love with acacia trees.

I miss Africa.

Memoirs of the Civil War: My Uncle

2007-01-31T04:43:00.000-08:00

There are many things that happened to my family, relatives or friends of the family during the civil war and the flight away. Some are funny, some are sad and some are gruesome, but they are all true. Despite everything that happened, I can’t seem to remember anything, I was after all still in diapers. Yet, I do recall my uncle, a victim of the war. He’s pretty much my worst memory, ever.

My uncle was a doctor; in fact he had just received his doctor license when the shooting began in Mogadishu. Being unaware of this, he went to a café by himself to drink something in celebration and was later planning to take the whole family out for dinner. Something happened in that café. No one knows for sure what happened, and all we know are bits of what he told the family while babbling. It may sound weird, but my uncle was a sane man when he entered that café, yet when he left it, he was insane.

No one got the chance to investigate whatever happened, the war broke out and we were forced to flee. The family took him to Syria for medical treatment and some place to live of course. The Syrians were great, they helped out and the doctors did everything they could do, but with no success. My mother wanted to bring him up north, but the government told her that there were no legal grounds for doing such thing. Hence, we spent every summer travelling down and visiting him and my grandmother who lived in Syria together, along with some other relatives.

Here is where my memories come in. I can remember him quite well, he was a tall man. For a child, I was four at the time, every grown up is huge. Nonetheless, I recall him being taller than my mother and my mother was quite tall. I also remember that he was really skinny. I don’t recall ever seeing him eat a full meal. My grandmother and mother used to feed him, but they gave him porridge and soft meals, even then he couldn’t eat much or else he’d vomit. He had difficulties with swallowing I think. He had greyish skin was growing grey hair, although he was in his late twenties.

I mentioned that my uncle became mentally unstable. He would babble in some weird language for hours and then suddenly pass out. Sometimes, he used to go out and get lost, my mother and brother would spend hours or maybe days searching for him. He used to prefer sleeping in the courtyard. In Arab nations, traditional houses often have courtyards. They’re apart of the house, but at the same time it’s outside.

There is one incident with him that I remember quite vividly. One day I woke up before everybody else and for some reason ended up playing in the courtyard. My uncle saw me and called for me. He had a whispering voice and it used to break. I actually used to be afraid of him. Well, he called for me and I approached him. He held my hand and smiled at me. The first time I ever saw him smile. The scary thing was that his eyes weren’t smiling. I’ve heard people jokingly saying that some guy has dead eyes, but my uncle really did have dead eyes. There was not even a spark of life in them. They were dark and hollow. I remember that summer really well. It was the summer I was four, my brother bought me a beautiful summer dress, my favourite thing in the world were my pink sun-glasses and my uncle smiled to me with his dead eyes.

Three months later he died.

A petition for unity in Somalia

2007-01-25T14:08:00.000-08:00

Take time to read it, if you support the message, don't hesitate with signing. May Allah bring peace to the whole world and may the Horn finally get some stability!

http://www.thepetitionsite.com/takeaction/544365865

Not wanting to go out, when you're supposed to go out even though no one is forcing you to go out, but you feel that if

2007-01-20T05:25:00.000-08:00

...you don't go out, you're not fulfilling these expectations and all though the consequences won't effect you physically nor change your life drastically you realise that by not going out you'll hurt the feelings of those who asked you to go out and those who you're supposed to meet, yet nothing is planned, an impulse, moment of blackout when you told all these people around you that - yes, I will go out on saturday afternoon to see you - a binding agreement one could say.

the words were uttered, they escaped from the tip of my tounge to the ears of my beloved ones.

...so now, although I really don't want to go out because it's snowing and cold, I have to go out, because there was an agreement, there was a deal if broken wont lead to dramatic consequences, but it will with no doubt hurt your conciousness.

Amazing sister

2007-01-14T05:41:00.000-08:00

On snow and creativity

2007-01-12T09:50:00.000-08:00

snow
white snow
polluted snow
yellow snow
snow

Snow zucks.

Two of my friends are planning to create a hiphop duo, they turned to me for ideas on a potential name. They thought that I were creative. I'm not creative. I'm dull. Do you guys have any ideas?

- I suggested "Gangs of Oslo" and "Boyz II Mathematicians".

Death over the french verbs!

2007-01-11T12:10:00.000-08:00

J'ai écrit
Je n'ai pas écrit

The joy of memorizing french verbs. Oh how I look forward to the day french verbs won't be apart of my schedule nor will I have to sit in a cold class at 8:10 and listen to my sweet but o' so boring french teacher.

Damn you french fries. Damn you!

Tu as écrit
Tu n'as pas écrit

The best tunes on my MP3 right now

2007-01-10T05:20:00.000-08:00

Down - Amel Larrieux

Carelessly I let you santer in
And out of the chambers of my heart
Disguised as a gentleman
Heartlessly and much too much again
You quickened you steps as you left
And that's where my soliloquy begins.

Bombs over Baghdad - Rage against the machines

Make a business for yourself, boy, set some goals
Make a fat diamond out of dusty coals

Earn my affections - Amel Larrieux

you’re a beautiful mess

-but every attic has a treasure

It's the end of the world as we know it - R.E.M

A tournament,a tournament, a tournament of lies.

Offer me solutions, offer me alternatives and I decline.

The years after menopause

2007-01-10T05:16:00.000-08:00

Ten days since my last post, I’m getting better at this. Alright, my New Year resolution is to update my blog on a daily basis. Starting from this minute, I mean day. I’m actually making tea now, not right now, not in present continuous, but in this period of time. I’m waiting for the water to boil, and I’m in my room whilst my mother, brother and an unexpected guest are chatting in the living room. This seems quite irrelevant, but it’s essential for what I will say later in my post. Ok, water boiling, just a sec.

I’m back, had to serve the tea aswell, and that’s exactly it. Being the only girl in this family consisting of a brother and a social mother, I’m forced to spend an amount of time in the kitchen making tea, if not that, then cooking dinner or making snacks. Hey, I aint complaining. I wouldn’t want my darling mother up all the time, besides it’s tradition, and I consider myself a traditional Somali chica. Yet, our tradition requires the female to spend a lot of time in the kitchen cooking, if not in the living room serving. That’s not to say that the Somali woman is oppressed, I think we’re quite liberated compared to other cultures. Nevertheless, our liberation starts when we are past menopause. Yes, the Somali woman is liberated and free to do as she pleases as soon as she gets the status of being ‘old’ or atleast close to old.

It’s common knowledge that the elderly Somali woman can sit in a congregation consisting of men and debate on various issues. The elderly Somali woman enjoys so much respect, admiration and honour. One of the things that doesn’t make me fear old age, on the contrary, I’m looking forward to it.

As I said, I aint complaining, but sometimes I do wish that my brother stood up and made the tea whilst I sat someplace quiet and relaxed. On a second thought, I make darn good tea, people should have the opportunity to taste it and praise yet another of my fabulous skills.

Love Rain by Jill Scott

2007-01-01T12:40:00.000-08:00

Met him on a thursday,sunny afternoon
Cumulus clouds, 84 degrees
He was brown,deep
Said he wanted to talk about my mission Listen to my past lives (Word?)
Took me on long walks to places where butterflies rest easy
Talked about Moses and Mumia Reparations,
blue colors,memories of shell topped adidas
He was fresh,like summer peaches S
weet on my mind like block parties and penny candy
Us was nice and warm,no jacket,no umbrella,just warm
At night we would watch the stars And he would pyhsically give me each and every one
I felt like cayenne pepper,red,hot,spicy
I felt dizzy and so near the heavens and miles between my thighs
Better than love,we made delicious
He me had,had me he
He made me tongue tied
I could hear his rhythm in my thoughts
I was his sharp, his horn section
His boom and his bip
And he was my love

Happy New Year - Retrospective look on 2006

2006-12-31T12:39:00.000-08:00

I would like to wish all of you a really happy new year. This year has been quite troublesome and fascinating, to say the least. So what have I done and what will I remember from 2006?

Creating a blog: That was a turning point for me, I've never been good on doing something on a regular basis, but I've tried. It's really nice to put ones thoughts on the paper. Besides, I've met some really nice people (-wink wink).
Starting at the Norwegian High School: It doesn't sound like a big deal, but in Norway the high school is the last step before university and before adult life. One also has to choose which direction in life one wants to take during high school. So, my high school is dominated by kids from the better and wealthier neighborhoods in Oslo; the majority have rich parents and I've never seen so many Gucci and Jean Paul clothes in one area. Anyway, I adjusted to them and they adjusted to me, so me going there has proven to be rather eductional, on many levels.
The death of Saddam Hussein: I compare Saddam with Stalin, besides the fact that they both had moustaches, they developed their nations in many ways and they put their nations on the map, in other words. Nonetheless, their good actions were shadowed by their less good actions and ideologies. Killing their people, eliminating possible opponents and creating a totalitarian regime. Saddam's death is not the end; it's not the begining of the end but rather the end of the beginning.
Israel and Hezbollah conflict: One could say Israel - Lebanon conflict, but that would be a lie. The lebanese government were passive bystanders to the whole battle, they didn't even do much to help their internal refugees. The conflict went on for a month and two days (12 july - 14 august). Lebanon took much of the beating; infrastructure in Lebanon was severely damaged and thousands of lebanese and isrealis were forced to flee. The war took 1,400 lives, and most of the dead were lebanese civillians.
War in Somalia: It's still going on, subhanallah. It started with ministers, sponsered by USA, that terroized the people of Mogadishu. An islamic organization got rid of these ministers, but later declared that they wanted to seize power all over Somalia. This put the government in a thight position and they chose (unfortunately) to seek help from Ethiopia. This had a counter-effect, the majority of Somalis who already opposed Ethiopia saw this as betrayal and UIC who claimed patriotism gained much popularity. This week, Ethiopian soldiers moved into Somalia, pushed the UIC out of Mogadishu and the government could again gain control over the lost areas. As of today though, the battles have restarted in the town of Jilib, close to Kismayo. One of UIC's last strongholds.
The Noble Peace Prize: It was given to Muhammed Yunus, a Bangladeshi bankier who popularized micro-credit and helped bangladeshi women out of poverty. Giving him the peace prize showed that peace isn't a specific term anymore, it has become more vague actually.
The Muhammed (pbuh) cartoons: Denmark published it and then Norway published them. The cartoons which portrayed our noble prophet in a disrespectful and mocking manner; a riot started in the arab/muslim world which resulted into everything from blocking danish export articles and vandalizing Scandinavian embassies. Luckily this has calmed down.

That's all I can remember, if I've forgotten something very important, feel free to remind me!

HAPPY NEW YEAR!

May 2007 prove to be better than 2006!

Eid Mubarak

2006-12-29T12:38:00.000-08:00

I'm rather busy, hence I must make this really short:

Eid Mubarak brothers and sisters!

May Allah reward our brothers and sisters in hajj for doing such an honourable and important yet difficult task. Ameen.

May Allah help our muslim brothers and sisters in Somalia, Iraq, Palestine and all nations where injustice and poverty is found. Ameen.

May Allah forgive our sins and the sins of our deceased. Ameen.

May Allah reward us Jannah and shelter us from the flames of Ja'hima. Ameen.

May Allah shelter us from the darkness of the grave and let us be among those who wait peacefully for Judgement Day in their graves. Ameen.

May Allah rid injustice, awful epidemics and poverty from the surface of the earth. Ameen.

May Allah grant all our wishes and put imaan in our hearts. Ameen.

My brothers and sisters, I wish you all the best, enjoy tomorrow!

Allahu akbar, allahu akbar, allahu akbar; la illaha ilallahu, allahu akbar wa lillaahil 'hamd

Banana on the side

2006-12-26T08:22:00.000-08:00

“Milk, sugar and toothpaste, that’s pretty much it. Oh, and don’t forget bananas,” my mother said as I left the house and headed towards the masjid. On my way I pondered over this banana-obsession my mother has; for any other person that tag message wouldn’t have any deeper meaning, but for me it was a surprise seeing that I bought three kilos of bananas the start of the week.

Then again, it’s not only my mother. It’s me, my relatives and pretty much all Somalis I know. For Somalis, or at least the majority of us, the banana is an essential part of our lifestyle. That curved form, appealing yellow shell and delicious taste.

Drool….

A rice dish with banana on the side, spaghetti dish with banana on the side, soup with banana on the side and of course traditional canjeero with banana. Somehow the banana creates a balance, a harmony in our taste bud. Salt, sour, spicey and sweet. It’s pure mathematics.

I volunteered once; no I was forced to volunteer, at a family gathering. My job was to cook and we cooked until dawn. Made delicious food and then when we served it, the first thing that was uttered wasn’t a compliment to the chef, oh no. One of the uncles exclaimed: O dee mooski mee? (But, where are the bananas?)

Thus when I entered the grocery store, said hi to the illegal immigrant behind the counter, grabbed a bunch of bananas and paid for them, there was a large grin on my face. My thoughts went to all those Somalis who would rather starve to death, instead of eating a plate of food without banana on the side.

“On a traffic light green means go and yellow means yield, but on a banana it's just the opposite. Green means hold on, yellow means go ahead, and red means where the hell did you get that banana at...”
- Mitch Hedberg

The nature of Somali weddings

2006-12-25T03:26:00.000-08:00

She walks in with artificial grace. The long, white bridal gown with the veil seems so ill placed among the exaggerated bling and colourful garments the guests are wearing. Old, sweaty aunts clap their hands and welcome the bride in a traditional matter as the crowd lead her and the tail of six bridesmaids to the podium set for them. The podium consisting of two gigantic chairs, reminding me of fairytale thrones, whilst they’re probably rented for 50$ an hour at the local Somali shop. On the podium there are also normal chairs, reserved for the many bridesmaids and anyone having the urge for 15 seconds of fame. Yes, finally the white ghost takes her seat, whoops; I mean bride takes her seat.

After that, all the guests who’ve been standing and clapping their hands until they couldn’t feel them anymore return to their seats. The table ranging is of no significance, because you’ll probably have to change your seat anyway, see you will most likely be seated in a table with old aunts giving you remarks on your look and criticizing you for not being married or you’ll end up with a group of young, oestrogen filled girls chatting about getting married and giving you remarks on your look.

Seeing that the tables are arranged in a horseshoe form, there is plenty of room to dance. Oh yes, dance. The band, there is a band of course, is made of four, sleazy men with oversized white suits (for the occasion) and lots of gel on their frizzy hair. To your horror they start singing, love songs, Somali love songs or if the party is really really wild, the four sleazy men look down at the crowd and sing (rather sour): I want it that a way.

What about the dancing?
Well, naturally not all people have the groove and oddly enough those who have the groove aren’t the ones who start dancing. Infact, there’s always this one weird uncle who starts shaking it. Then he drags equally weird aunts with him. Sooner or later, often sooner, a young crowd joins them and starts the jiggy. Yet none of them have any rhythm rythe men try to fusion Saturday Night Fever with the best of hiphop dancing but the women are definitely the most remarkable species on the dance floor. None of them actually move their feet, they rock from side to side with their hands held up high as if they were in tuned into slow motion while running.

Where are the honor guests in this feast? They’re well situated on the podium, I say they because I forgot to mention the groom. Although that’s really not a surprise, the groom is the least significant person in his own wedding party. The camera man zooms into the bride and tries to capture every thread on her gown. Understandable really, because her dress seems more joyful than she does, the bride gazes down at her guests with a grumpy look on her face and the only time actually smiles, the smile is so forced and fake that one would wish she simply remained grumpy.

I shouldn’t be so harsh on Somali weddings now; there are many advantages with them. Ok, not that many, I usually sneak to the kitchen or buffet after three hours of pretending to enjoy myself, , pull out the little goodie bag I brought along and secretly shove a lot of food in it. Then I grab one or two sodas and find myself a nice seat outside in the fresh air and start consuming as much food as possible – (thank God for the diric, never makes you feel fat). Then I stare at the stars and dream away; hope that my wedding won’t be filled by fake people. In my wedding, I’m going to smile.

Flood in the Horn

2006-12-12T01:20:00.000-08:00

http://www.nytimes.com/2006/12/12/world/africa/12flood.html?hp&ex=1165986000&en=117f1690f3c0f8e4&ei=5094&partner=homepage

Perils of Somali Flood: Hunger and Beasts

YAGLOO, Somalia, Dec. 5 — This is a village of growling stomachs and sharp cheekbones.

Joao Silva for The New York Times

The worst flood in 50 years has submerged the village of Yagloo, where a child took shelter under a tarp.

Joao Silva for The New York Times
In Buladonka, displaced Somalis lined the banks of the Shabelle River, waiting for aid. Somalia’s anarchy has frightened off most aid groups.

Residents of Yagloo are stranded beside the Shabelle River.
The people here are surrounded by floodwaters that have drowned their animals, submerged their crops and swept away their homes. They are slowly starving, unable to sustain themselves on unripe fruit and filthy water.At the faintest hum of an outboard engine, some 200 villagers, essentially the entire mobile population of Yagloo, run to the banks of the swollen Shabelle River with empty baskets and expectant eyes, hoping for powdered milk, a few handfuls of grain, some malaria pills, anything.

“You! You! You!” they yelled at a passing boat, which unfortunately on this Tuesday morning was carrying only journalists. “Don’t forget us.”
They held up mud-streaked palms and pointed to a darkening sky. More rain was on its way.
The floods here are yet another installment of a nation in crisis. At a time when Somalia seems inexorably close to an all-out war with Ethiopia, with a destructive potential that could dwarf the countless deaths from the last 15 years of anarchy, a deluge has arrived, plunging Somalia’s breadbasket underwater, creating the conditions for an extended famine and taking the area’s woes to a whole new level.

Experts say this has been the worst flood season in East Africa in 50 years, and hundreds of people have already drowned, starved, succumbed to waterborne diseases like cholera and malaria, or been eaten by crocodiles.The other day, not far from where Yagloo’s children played on the riverbank, a set of unblinking yellow eyes hung just above the surface of the water. “They are hungry, too,” said Muhammad Ali Gnani, a local aid worker.
He later pointed out a huge crocodile carcass rotting in the bush, sizzling with flies, that his guards shot after it had eaten a boy. Crocodile attacks have been a problem across East Africa, as the drenching rains have driven hundreds of thousands of people from their homes and left them exposed in rising river waters teeming with wild animals.

Some people have refused to be rescued, like a group of herders in Ethiopia who were trapped on shrinking pieces of high land. They said they would rather die next to their cattle than live without them. Ethiopia alone has lost approximately 500 people to the rains. Many climatologists blame global warming for the erratic weather, which brought drought last year and left the earth as hard as concrete — and as impervious. When the rains began to lash down, the water just pooled.

In Yagloo, which is about 30 miles north of the Somali capital, Mogadishu, villagers are stranded on a thin spit of mud between the overflowing Shabelle and the lake where their homes used to be. The water, which is the creamy brown color of tea with milk, is so deep that in some places all you can see are the pointy tops of straw huts sticking out. A few flip-flops and plastic bags float by. When it starts to pour, people duck under plastic tarps, if they have them, or huddle in shivering groups beneath banana trees. Dinner is typically green bananas or boiled mangos. When it comes time to sleep, families curl up together in soggy blankets.
The other day, two elders sat around talking about a way to persuade God to spare them more rain.

“If only we could sacrifice an animal,” said Ahmed Mahmoud.
Finishing the thought, Hussein Hassan said, “But all our animals have drowned. His shoulder blades were so sharp that they nearly poked through the thin, wet shirt clinging to his back.
The floods have already pushed people on the wobbly edge of survival past the point of no return. Yagloo’s cornfields, part of Somalia’s crucial Shabelle agricultural belt, are marinating in stinking water, which means no crops to eat, much less to sell, next year. In neighboring villages, it is the same, with piles of melons stacked alongside submerged roads, the fruit cracking open with rot and a crust of fuzzy white mold creeping out.
“No doubt about it,” said Muhammad Fuje, an official with the World Health Organization in Somalia. “Next year, there will be famine.”

This is not purely a natural disaster. Somalia has not had a functioning government since 1991, and one result has been a shamelessly neglected infrastructure. That includes a dam near the Shabelle that recently burst, unleashing a cascade that swept through villages and carried off several children in a swirl of brown murkiness.

Few aid agencies have come to the rescue. Southern Somalia’s reputation for chaos and bloodshed has scared off most foreign aid workers, leaving the bulk of relief efforts in the hands of a new Islamic administration that is increasingly distracted by the prospects of war with Ethiopia, its larger and more powerful neighbor. After the Islamists came to power in June, Ethiopia stepped up its support of a rival group of Somali leaders in Baidoa, a city farther inland. Recently, the two sides have been building up their armies.
“We’re doing our best to help the flood people,” said Abdulrahim Ali Modei, the Islamic courts information minister. “But we need some help from God.”
So far it does not appear to have come. The rains started in September. They were supposed to stop by November, the end of a normal rainy season. But this year they are predicted to drum on through January.
All this water has fed a wild beauty along the river. Huge mango trees lean over the water. Herons skim to a landing in the swamps. The light changes dramatically by the minute, shifting between intense sunshine and sudden, stormy darkness, as if a fickle someone controlled the whole sky with a dimmer switch.
At the close of another long, wet day, a little boy with a hard round belly and no pants stood on Yagloo’s riverbank fishing with a bare hook.
“The fish nibble,” said one woman watching him. “But they don’t bite.”

Commitment issues

2006-12-06T02:23:00.000-08:00

I think I have commitment issues, don't fret I'm not talking about relationships (I live in complete celibacy) but in general. I easily get passionate over things, but I simply can't continue doing the thing over longer periods. Don't misunderstand, I fulfill my duties, but never my hobbies. For instance, a while back I decided to write a novel, I spend to months doing it and puff, where's that novel now?- Seriously, you tell me, I must've forgotten it and deleted it.

Another example; knitting, yes, I knitted for a while. A while meaning two weeks. I was getting good at it, almost had a scarf there, but now where is it? - At the bottom of my closet.

It really gets irritating though, that I can keep on doing one thing for a longer period and then succeeding in it. Man, I have commitment issues.

Five Cartoons From My Childhood

2006-12-06T02:16:00.000-08:00

Ok, my mother hated cartoons, she hated videogames and she hated McDonalds. So I never went to a McDonalds restaurant with her, I only played videogames at my friend's house and cartoons, well I used to watch them behind her back (-that sounded really naughty, but seriously, I used to be an angel)

Here goes the list of the day, five shows/cartoons I shall never forget:
1. Sesame Street - one of the shows my mother approved and loved by the way.
2. Ninja Turtles - not one of her favourites, too much violence, but come on- NINJA TURTLES!
3. Scooby Doo - she actually approved this one aswell, a bit scary though. Ok, the new version of Scooby Doo sucks, nothing beats the classics.
4. The Flintstones - I loved the flintstones: Barney, Wilma -I miss them.....
5. Tom and Jerry -need I say more?

Five Political/Historical Books I Must Read

2006-11-26T07:57:00.000-08:00

Here goes the list of the day:

1. Das Kapital - Marx' lifelong work, the fundemental of communism.
2. Mein Kampf - Again the fundement of a political ideology which got widespread and is spreading today.
3. The Art of War - Sun Tzu, shall I say more?
4. Orientalism - Edward Said, it is said that this book might explain the myth created around the so called "clash between civillizations".
5. The Origin of Species - I'm no darwinist, but you have to know your enemy right?

The Outsider Cliche

2006-11-26T07:33:00.000-08:00

I'm an outsider.
It's not something I chose, it's just that my behaviour and personality is described as "outsider-ish" in youth terminology. Then again I have no problem with being labelled as an outsider, it has never been an issue actually, infact I've emphasised my label on many ocasions. In my circle of friends there aren't many outsider, on the contrary, the majority are as mainstream as they get. Some are on the verge of extreme average-ism. They love my outsider behaviour, I'm the corcky, eccentric and unique friend. I love my role, it fits me very well, my friends love this role, because they can then speak of their eccentric friend.

Lately I've realised that my personality and lifestyle isn't as unique as it used to be. My Palestine-scarf, shaggy clothes and alternative lifestyle isn't so outsider-ish as you'd think. The other day I met a bimbo with palestine scarf, reading Confucius and drinking bitter green tea. I was shocked, I was disgusted, my world was shattered in small pieces. As I moved on, I met more outsiders, outsiders who weren't really outsiders, just trend-outsiders. You know, emo kids who don't know what emo is, taoists who think tao is the misspelled word for tea, not to mention palestine-scarf wearing political activists who can't point out Palestine on the map.

Being so naive and sincere as I am, I figured why not crash the political rally held by our local youth socialist party when to my horror I found out that they were praising materialism and discussing the latest Gucci collection while wearing t-shirts with prints of Ché in a room decorated with red, the color of communism.

Ah, the hypocricy!

To think that the lifestyle which promotes spirituality and anti-capitalism has turned so materialistic. To think that kids who live the capitalistic lifestyle hang up posters of Ché on their rooms. Such a disgrace.

Such a disgrace that outsider-ism has become mainstream.

Five Things On TV That Get On My Nerves

2006-11-25T12:29:00.000-08:00

So, here is the list of the day. Five things on tv that get on my nerves, they're many, but I've managed to shorten them to the five worst.

Here goes:
1. Commercials - you're watching a breathtaking, awesome movie or show and it reaches its peak, when suddenly commercials comes on. It's highly beneficial for the producers of course, not so beneficial for average Janes and Joes.
2. Theme songs - they tend to get stuck on my head. It can very well be an irritating song, nonetheless, when it's stuck, it remains there. I find myself humming.. aarrgh....
3. Sex - everything on TV includes sex, absolutely everything. Animal channels showing animal orgies and even advertising films on daytime when of course the little children gaze in this damned box called TV.
4. Biased newschannels - names such as Fox, CNN and NBC come to mind.
5. Materialism - back to commercials here. I like to look at myself as an unmaterialistic, spiritual person who value the emotional things. But the commercials have the ability to stir my materialistic side. I find myself craving things I really don't need....double arrgh....

Can a human being be evil?

2006-11-25T12:17:00.000-08:00

Wikipedia:

Evil is sometimes defined as the absence of a good which could and
should be present; the absence of which is a void in what should be. In most
cultures, the word is used to describe acts, thoughts, and ideas which are
thought to (either directly or causally) bring about affliction and death
—the opposite of goodness, which itself refers to aspects which are
life-affirming, peaceful, and constructive.

I've been pondering over this for a while now. Previously I used to think that a mislead and ignorant being would pursue evil acts, but the person wouldn't be evil. Even from the describtion above, you see that evil is described as acts, thoughts and ideas. Can a person lack goodness, lack consience?
If you look at the "bad" people through history, you'll notice that whatever they did was based on doctrines they believed were right, some had a troubled past which contributed to their hatred against certain groups. I'm certainly not defending these people, but it would be incorrect to describe their personality or soul as evil when they had humane sides, when they didn't bring sorrow and death over other people. So, my point being, can an unprovoked person be evil, can a human being be evil?

Temporary gone

2006-10-31T07:03:00.000-08:00

Due to a temporary meltdown of our computer at home, I must take a vacation. Internet cafes are to expensive for my tight budget and I hate sitting at school (which I currently am). Very well, don't miss me too much :D

Big macs to all of you...

Kill Bill -Wiggle Your Big Toe

2006-10-16T02:15:00.000-07:00

I recently saw Kill Bill.

Yes, I'm still a girl.

It has been on the market for the last 3 years, so one could say that I've been delaying it. The cover turned me off actually, this blonde chick wearing a yellow leather outfit. Logic told me that it would be much sex, unnecessary nudity and alot of violence and cars.

My logic failed. I actually digged the movie. Indeed it was an incredible amount violence, totally unrealistic amount of blood and disgusting (in a very intruging way) scenes.

Chopping heads off.

Chopping hands off.

Chopping dicks off.

Chop Chop Chop... It was japanese cuisine meets the italian mob in a restaurant owned by Quentin Tarantino and influenced by futuristic, kind of avant-garde movies. Oh, and Uma Thurman people, what a great act and a great role.

The prologue captured me instantly. Uma beaten up, looking up to an anonymous person who shoots her at the end. The first chapters, Uma waking up from a coma and eating a dude's tongue - he had it coming though.

Oh, and that first fight between Uma and that black chick. Matrix all the way, I was just waiting for one of them to fly up in the air.

I'm looking forward to more chopping this weekend - Kill Bill volume 2, here I come!

P.S: Guys, the SAMURAI SWORDS, I practically fainted when I saw them. I definitely want to own a samurai sword.

P.P.S: The touch of japanese anime was simply the sweet glaze of a heavenly cake.

Really, really BAD DAYS

2006-10-14T12:34:00.000-07:00

Ever had those days when you don't even have to leave bed before you know that everything, I mean everything, is going to go wrong? In my 16 years I've never truly had a bad day. For some it may come as a shock, but it's the truth. I've had bad hair days, bad school days, bad holidays - but all 24 hours or1440 minutes never occured terrible to me. Never, until yesterday.

I slept well, the first terrible sign. I tossed and turned in bed, rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and reached out to grab my telephone and look at the time. Innocently I thought that the alarm didn't go off yet because I woke up earlier than planned. But to my despair, the amazing digital watch said 08:25. To readers out there, this exact time will not raise any feelings, good or bad, but to me....Well, one can easily say that I paniced. Infact, panic is to nicely described. In the back of my head a bell rang, alarming me, telling me that I was late for school. My first class started at 08:10. To further explain my panic, I should add that I have to take a subway to school. The subway leaves the nearest station at 08:40 and drives (is that the correct term) 20 minutes before I get off in the central station and walk another 10 minutes to school. In other words, the trip to school takes approx. 30 minutes. You can imagine the stress I felt. Ever tried brushing your teeth while putting your clothes on? - Don't try that at home. Well I ran, fully dressed, I ran. Down the stairs, out to the street and to the subway station.

I'd love to say - "Just in time"

But no.

I arrived a minute after "just in time". Where I could gaze at the back of the subway as it drove away, not knowing that it nearly brought tears to my eyes.

So I waited. It was cold. Damn cold. October shouldn't be this cold. Right, I sat there for 15 minutes until the next subway came.

It was packed, to say the least. It was humid and there was a distinctive smell of urine. But I managed. My aura had a blue tone and I tried to absorbe and chanalize my positive energy. However, my silent meditation was brought to an abrupt end when a nice lady spilled her hot coffee all over me, the stop before my final destination.

"Oh sorry, I'm so sorry!" She exclaimed
"It's alright, I'm fine..." I stammered.
"Hmm, why shouldn't you, it's just coffee, it could be worse" she then laughed. I looked at her surprised, not knowing exactly what to say. I knew what to say, but I couldn't decide whether I should say it. Yet I mumbled it when the subway stopped:

"Sure, it could be napalm".

So I reached school. Exactly two hours after I should've been there. There is no humiliation like the one you feel when you suddenly enter a room and all twenty-nine faces stare at you simultaneously. Wondering: Where the heck has she been?

Well, I stayed in school. Yay, the only bright side was the A I got on my math test. So after 7 hours in school, or in my case 5, I headed home. Walked calmly to the station just to find out that my line was delayed. First they said 5 minutes, 5 minutes turned into 10 - 15 - 20-25 ooops, 30 minutes! And it's the middle of the rush hour. Hurray!

I got home an hour after I should be there. Sat down releaved and reached for my bag to grab my science book and start revising for the test on monday. But...but...where is the book?!

It's in my closet in school!

Blah....terrible day yesterday....

It's been a bad day.Please don't take a picture.It's been a bad
day.Please.

I'm Spiderman - Yay!

2006-10-10T09:33:00.000-07:00

You Are Spider-Man

Quick and agile, you have killer instincts (literally).And that kind of makes up for the whole creepy spider thing.

What'>http://www.blogthings.com/whatsuperheroareyouquiz/">What Superhero Are You?

One gigantic load of crap

2006-10-10T09:29:00.000-07:00

Your Hidden Talent

You have the power to persuade and influence others.You're the type of person who can turn a whole room around.The potential for great leadership is there, as long as you don't abuse it.Always remember, you have a lot more power over people than you might think!

What's" Your Hidden Talent?

Me, a leader? I think not!

Dreams You'll Never Accomplish

2006-10-05T14:45:00.000-07:00

Five things I'd like to do before I die, but I most likely won't do:

1. Bungie jump.
2. Bagpack through the world.
3. Participate in an extreme Greenpace action (-like tie myself to a tree in Amazonas).
4. Egg all the leaders in the G8 summit.
5. Form a totally new political ideology.

When I was kid I wanted to be a lawyer with a superhero alter-ego. A weird dream for a young girl, but I was heavily influenced by the ninja turtles and superman. I've come to realise that my childhood-dream will never come true, mainly because it's unrealistic. Nonetheless, there are many dreams that aren't completely unrealistic, which I don't see myself accomplishing. Nr. 4 would have serious consequences, they'd probably think I was an islamist and ship me to Gitmo, but bagpacking for instance. I can't just leave all my duties and obligation and bagpack, or could I?

Hmm, I don't know....

I challenge you to list up five dreams you don't see yourself accomplishing.

A belated Ramadan Kareem guys!

2006-09-28T10:50:00.000-07:00

Yeah, ramadan is back, yuppie!!!!
Good food, great company, closeness to Allah and hours upon hours of hunger and thirst. Yuppie.

I, along with my dearest computer have been sick, hence my rather late blog post. But I've managed to sneak into an empty internet cafe and steal some time. Ok, I can't give all the credit to my amazing Alias skills, but also to a friend of moms who owns the place. I'm so gullible and sweet, that people give me stuff for free - free access to internet, food, smiles, diamond rings, jaguars, cruise around the carribbean - you name it!

Anyway, yet another list:

What makes me pissed off during my fast

1. People eating infront of me and at the same time saying: "I feel sorry for you, it must be hard not eating from sunrise to sunset" then they take another huge bite of their burger...

2. Grumpy muslims. Hallo! The whole point with ramadan is to be nice and friendly. I know that you're hungry and as a result rather irritable, but you do say wa'alaikuma salaam back when a nice, somali chica smiles and says salaamo aleikum...

3. Islamophobics, yeah, I can handle them the other months of the year, but ramadan is a nonono. You don't diss islam infront of a fasting person, that's just not right and you better expect some verbal arsewhopping...

4. Coming late from school and barely managing to whip up some iftar, but when you finish you realise that there are still 20 minutes till sunset - subhanallah! I hate that!

5. Yes, the final thing that makes me the most pissed off during ramadan: Not waking up for Suhur because you reckon that sleep is more important than food, but when you wake up you instantly regret, because the rumbling of your tummy is unignorable..

Ok, one must not be pissed off during ramadan, but this does make me angry. Ok, next I'll post some good things, oh and a list of what to do during ramadan - sort of check list .... insh'allah

My Africa

2006-09-17T13:05:00.000-07:00

I am black and I am proud of it.
I am black and I am damn proud of it.
I am an African woman with intelligence and sensibility, who is capable of accomplishing great things.

Africa is a continent with many possibilities, many aspiring individuals and a rich heritage which needs to be explored and understood by the masses.

But Africa is associated with the primitive. Women in wild dances around the fire with barely nothing on. Africa is Serengeti; living in luxury in the Savannah and admiring the African nature while one turn a blind eye to the famine, the poverty, the diseases, the corruption and the injustice.

Africa - ignored but yet exploited.

Why is it that my Africa is in this state?
Why is it hard to find an uncorrupt and democratic African nation?
Why are so many Africans abroad content with living in ignorance and spending every penny they got on materialistic items?
Why do some celebrities claim to help Africa, but then show up in an orphanage in Sierra Leone wearing blood diamonds?

I ask why. The only word stuck in every African's tounge, a word so simple but yet so heavy and bitter.

Africa is bleeding, Africa is crying, Africa is hurt.

I'm damn proud of being from Africa, but I'm ashamed over my fellow Africans.

For Africa to me... is more than a glamorous fact. It is a historical
truth. No man can know where he is going unless he knows exactly where he has
been and exactly how he arrived at his present place.
- Maya Angelou

The joy of making lists

2006-09-17T12:15:00.000-07:00

So I recently read "Naive, Super" for the fifth time in my life. I think "Naiv, Super" is translated into english, despite the fact that it was originally written in norwegian (so hurry up, buy it!). It is one of my favourite books. Actually, I hated it after the first time I read it, but it's quite like abstract/contemporary art. At first you are provoked and disgust, but then you learn to appreciate it.

Anyhow, the book is about this twentysomething guy who has a life crisis. He doesn't know who he is, and the plot of the book is him finding himself and finding the meaning of life. He meets amazing people on this path, including a little kid who becomes on of his bestfriends and he meets an awesome girl. Also, we learn that he has one good and one bad friend. The good friend studies meteorlogy (study of weather) and is currently in Svalbard, alone in an observatory. They frequently exchange faxes. The bad friend is rarely mentioned, but the readers understand that the bad friend is materialistic and chauvinistic. Ok, one remarkable thing that the main character does, is that he makes lists. He loves making lists. Being inspired by this, I've decided to make lists - only five points in each list.

What irritates me:
1. Smokers
2. Pop-ups
3. People who speak in a monotone voice
4. People who push other people - I don't care where - I simply hate pushers
5. People who laugh really, really, really loud and very, very, very long. They drag the laughter out...

What makes me happy:
1. Flowers, especially spring flowers i.e light coloured flowers.
2. Children playing outside
3. Talking a walk on a sunny day
4. My nephews' hugs
5. Reading fiction

To Forgive and To Forget

2006-09-08T11:09:00.000-07:00

My mother is mad at me right now. She claims that I'm one cold-hearted, selfcentered young brat who gives a shit about what's around me. She couldn't be more wrong.

The whole incident started a while ago. To give you an idea of what the huge deal is about, I'm going to describe a scenario. Let's say that "Al" is married to "Mary" and they live a seemingly happy life with their two little daughters who're three and four years old. "Mary's" family is a troubled family who seem to dislike their daughter's success in life. Anyhow, "Mary" is an easily influence girl, her family convinces her that she should make "Al's" life a living hell - don't ask me why. Which she does. Eventually "Al" moves in with his sister and mother who love him and whe also love "Mary" despite her faults. "Mary" manipulates "Al", she calls him and tells him that she regrets everything, he goes back to her, she says that they are in desperate need of money and he pours her with money. "Al" is a successful career man with good economy. But then, an hour later she yells at him and throws him out, yet again, it's like an evil circle.

This goes on for a long while. "Mary" and "Al" go to councelling, they talk with family members and friends who try to mend their relationship. "Mary" comes with tons of lies about their life, she claims that Al has mistreated her, beaten her up, yelled at her, she claims that he treats her like his doll or something - which is untrue, "Al" truly loves "Mary" and everyone who talks to them know that. Nonetheless, this goes on for a long while. "Mary" even speaks badly of "Al's" mother infront of her, she yells at his mother-in-law outdoors, in public, for no reason. Well in short, she is a bitch.

At the end, they manage to fix things up. "Al", is sent abroad to work with a project for his company. "Mary" is left alone with her daughters and her husband's family (they don't live together, but they close). Even though she comes with rude remarks, bad behaviour and an arrogant face, she did also manage to call truce with her mother-in-law.

One day, "Mary" comes to her mother-in-law's office and complains about how things are tough in her life and how she cried for hours this morning, because of all the chaos in her life - according to herself. The mother-in-law then goes home and sits down with her daughter to explain things. She claims that "Mary" is a lonely young woman in desperate need of company and friendship. She suggests that her daughter should visit "Mary" and the kids, talk to "Mary" and be friends with her.

The readers should know that "Mary's" sister-in-law had a premium seat while all the troubles in the family was on. She was the shoulder that her brother cried on, she was the one who took care of the kids when their mother just ran away and slept over with her bad friends without giving a notice. She was the one who cheeered everyone up, who let people let their frustrations over her. The readers should also know that the sister-in-law and "Mary" were very close before all of the problems occured, she trusted "Mary" and loved her like her own sister. Yet, when she confronted "Mary" she was told to keep her young mouth shut.

So now the mother-in-law wanted "Mary" and the sister-in-law to be friends.
Should the sister-in-law simply forget the mayhem that was caused by "Mary" and forgive her?
She couldn't. She simply couldn't knock on "Mary's" door and give her a big hug. Being polite and showing respect to "Mary" wasn't the problem, but being bestfriends? Hell no!

Was the sister-in-law wrong?

The Boondocks - probably not the first time I'll talk about them

2006-09-07T11:07:00.000-07:00

Any semi-afrocentric, intellectual, revolutionary soul should know who Huey Freeman is. If you don't, please leave my blog and never come back [that's a joke, I need all the readers I can get]. Huey symbolizes the ultimate, young black soul in the era of technology. He is realistic, sort of paranoid and very (emphasis on very) afrocentric. This little kid doesn't let illusions blind him, because believing in illusions weakens your mental strenght and intelligence.

Talking about the protagonist of the Boondocks would probably fill books-volumes, actually when I get the time and chance I'm going to write a thesis on him. Therefore, I choose to discuss one specific episode that I watched (today actually). It all started with Old Mr. Freeman wearing Bill Cosby glasses, Riley took advantage of this by telling reality-shows such as "Extreme Makeover- Home edition" and "Pimp My Ride" that his Grandad is blind. Mr.Freeman played along, although rather sceptical at first. I think (although I'm not the world's greatest analyzer) that today's episode was (according to my interpretation) about the increase of Reality Shows in our world. Even though some are good, bottomline is that the majority of them use people's pain to gain popularity and rates- but on the other hand people take advantage of the reality shows need to take advantage of people. Man, I'm making little sense now. Also, it featured Huey who thought that a federal agent was shadowing him, later the agent turned out to be a child of Huey's imagination.

Paranoia is one creepy thing. I mean, sometimes I feel that someone is stalking me and then it turns out that the thing moving right behind me is my own shadow. But, on a serious note, paranoia is a serious thing and some people are pathological paranoid (is that a word?) or obsessive paranoid. People who believe that someone is following them all the time. I don't think that I'm paranoid, I just believe in wicked conspiracy theories, I guess I've read way too much Dan Brown.

Cheerio guys, tomorrow if God wills it!

[OPM (official private message) to firefly: the nomad took a great vacation, but the nomad is back to spread her nomadic thoughts and absurd opinions-how would the world survive if she didn't do that? Umm, by the way, I'm adding you to my buddy list- you're way too cool to not be apart of it, damn, that was one lousy sentence- you're cool and all, but I didn't formulate that eloquently enough]

Where did all the chubby girls go?

2006-09-06T10:04:00.000-07:00

Actually, I was about to bury the big booty topic when a nice Faarax (i.e a somali man) posted following comment:

Alla, Alla, dumarka jirka ah, soo jiidasho wacanaa...U know wat, no body wants skiny gul oo lafaheeda ku mudayaan, also no body wants a bag of maize. so u need to be medium. being Buxom is beauty, nice body is pleasing like nice booties and midium sized boobs.

It surprised me, it amused me and it did of course make me think - (thank you by the way, for leaving such a mind-provoking message).

What is medium? Where do you draw the line between fat and chubby?
I guess those questions goes to all of you readers.

Chubby girls are a rare sight on the movie screen and on TV. Reality-shows, such as America's next top model, break the hearts of young, beautiful and healthy girls by telling them that they're unfortunately too big for "haute couture". Which is true, the catwalk features anorectic girls who puke between each clothes changing.

Incredible that the woman with curves was once regarded as the symbol of beauty, almost a sex symbol. If you take time to gaze at paintings from the renaissance and the baroc, you'll find portraits of chubby and giggling women, proud of themselves and proud of their body. In certain cultures, a fat girl is a wealthy girl and hence she is the most desirable woman in the society. But in the western hemisphere, this mentality is more or less laughed upon.

Back to the 21st century in our part of the world. Clothes are designed for skinny girls, girls are brainwashed to think that skinny is attractive and if you're not skinny- well then you have to have big tits and huge booty. Is it impossible to have mediumsized breasts, normal behind and a little fat on the belly? Why are girls with visible ribs and famine-look the beauty icons?

I know that many guys are against this modern, skinny, beauty icon, like the guy who posted the comment. Yet, there most be many who support it, seeing that this is a widespread phenomena?

Fat girl with a booty

2006-09-05T12:49:00.000-07:00

Yes, I've come to realize this terrible fact. I am F-A-T. I'm not a chubby sweetheart like Drew Barrymore, oh no, this chica has fat on her booty. Big butts maybe hot according to Sir Mix-a-lot, but it sure aint hot according to me. The only solution I have is to start training again. The summer made me loose my training routines and hence I lost my perfect figure. Lord, I've eaten too much vanilla ice and too much barbeque. Damn you summer, damn you!

Last Sunday, I made an amazing training schedule, I was going to run everyother day, of course I didn't predict disease. Therefore, I'm sitting here, warm as hell, with a kleenex all over the place. I hope my mother comes home soon, I miss my mummy, she always makes me tea. Correction, she used to make me tea. Ever since I turned 16, she has stopped pampering me when I'm sick. On the contrary, whenever I'm sick, she start criticizing my lifestyle and blames it for my weakness which resulted to my sickness. Geez, it sucks being a young adult.

Back to my world of big booty. I think huge butts is a genetic thing. It doesn't only run in my family, but in my whole race. Somali women have big booties, yet having a big booty isn't synonymous with being obese. Actually, I adore my curves, but a huge belly isn't being a curveous, hot dame. MOST GET RID OF HUGE BELLY. That's my new slogan for life, forget Carpe Diem, it's all about sit-ups now.

Do you guys know that having a booty is a trend now? It seems as though every celebrity wants to get a piece of the cake. It's not in to vomit between shooting of the various scenes, oh now, it's about sticking socks in your panties to get an ass. Some celebrities are blessed with natural booties, J-Lo and Beyonce for instance. Yet, your booty has to be big and bouncy, not big and saggy- if you know what I mean.

Anyway, there has been to much talk about booties tonight, I must bounce - cheerioes-

P.S: I apologize for the rather long vacation I've taken, but fear no more, the nomad has returned and has decided to become an active bloggah!

I'm walking on sunshine!

2006-05-06T05:43:00.000-07:00

There are so many flowers, they're everywhere. I've packed down my winter/autumn clothes, there are only light and bright clothes in my closet. At summer time I'm always happy, as if I've been hibernating the last months and I'm finally living now. I feel like a butterfly who just got out of her pupa.

"Three little birds, sat on my window. And they told me I don't need to worry. Summer came like cinnamon So sweet, Little girls double-dutch on the concrete."

Children characterizes summer, when you see them at the playground with summer outfits whilst each and everyone enjoy a popsticle. Summer is when you wake up from the singing of the birds and the sun shining through the curtains and right at your face. Summer is rain pouring from the sky, big rain drops falling right at your face while you run home barefooted.

Just yesterday I was waiting for the subway, I had a job interview (-by the way I got the job) and while waiting I was talking to a classmate. The sun was shining right at me, normally I'd be irritated, but I just loved it. It tickled in my face. It really felt good.

"I'm walking on sunshine , wooah I'm walking on sunshine, woooah I'm walking on sunshine, woooah and don't it feel good!! "

To whom it may concern.

2006-05-02T09:51:00.000-07:00

The somali people has lived in diaspora the last 15 years. Somalia is a country without a people, the few who still inhabit the horn of Africa depend on help from somalis abroad, others live below the poverty line. Both of these groups look for open lines to reach the riches in the western hemisphere. It's quiet understandable, any man wants the best for himself and his family. Somali has been stuck in the gutter for the last 15 years, in a civil war which has taken tons of lives both physical and mental.

I was born in Somalia, I take pride in speaking this amazing
language and the nomadic culture is in my veins. I am a Somali in every possible way. Yet, I've never stepped on Somali ground, I've never let the air above the Somali ground blow in my face, I've never tasted the salty water in the Somali coasts and I've never felt the strong feeling of belonging- the true feeling of belonging to a nation, to a people and to a national spirit. This right which is probably among the greatest rights of all has been taken away from me by people who never sensed it, despite the fact that they were around this national spirit all the time. My right to belong somewhere was taken away by men who let their desire for money and power inflict millions of human beings, my right was taken away by the men of evil, men of greed and men of inhumanity.

Perhaps I should carry a grudge towards these men, but I forgive them, I forgive them with all my heart. They didn't know what they did, men who don't understand their faults are men you can't blame for anything. It's like taking a drunken man to account. I forgive you. You've thrown me out of my land, you've stolen my sense of belonging and you've put me in diaspora in a country which I'm a regarded a foreigner, last but not least, you've made me rootless.

People ask me why I'm here, and I tell them about the civil war in my country. Stunned they ask me why it has lasted in 15 years and I remain silent. Warlords in the horn of Africa, I forgive you, but please tell me why it has taken 15 years to heal a wound that you created. Where is the antidote?

Camping last summer!

2006-05-01T06:32:00.000-07:00

Ok, more pictures.

I remember where I took these pictures. My brother had a brilliant idea last summer, why don't we go camping by the lake. Of course camping by the lake sounded like an amazing thing to do that day, the sun was shining and birds were singing along with the whisper from the wind.

When we reached the campingplace, after two or three hours of driving from the capital, we found out that the place was somehow reserved for the white population of Norway, it was an unwritten rule. They didn't exactly throw us out, but the animosity and tension was easy to sense. Nonetheless we had an amazing barbeque dinner, a lot of bathing and playing-Fun was the keyword for that day. Beat that you racists!

2006-05-01T06:28:00.000-07:00

Some pictures I've taken with our lousy camera. It's really not lousy, I just have low selfesteem and bad photography skills.

Veronica Mars, stress, nonsense, books and laziness

2006-04-30T16:24:00.000-07:00

Being a private detective sounds really fascinating. To wear huge trench coats, sneak around and investigate, puff huge cuban sigars and talk with a fast, yet precise voice. It's a dream come true. Of course I've always associated private investigating with old black&white action movies from the forties. Yet a Veronica Mars concept wouldn't be so bad.

It's May the 1st tomorrow. I'm free from school. After running an errand for my brother my schedule for tomorrow is rather empty. I have a science test coming up which I must get an A+ on-or else, and then there is an oral presentation of a mathproject, then there is this history test about Europe post-world war II, not to mention the two hours math test next week and then there is this stupid french presentation about racism which is least of my worries.

Mom is gone. She hasn't passed away, no she is out of town. I miss her, with her around I feel more calm and relaxed, without her I'm stressed out and grumpy. My brother thinks that she'll be gone till mid-may. I hope not.

Perhaps it's riddiculous to write a blog in english seeing that I write and speak norwegian more often, and the fact that I live in Norway should have an effect on what language I write in. However, for some reason I believe that my opinion will be heard if I write in english. Surely it'll be heard if I write in norwegian aswell, but not by the masses. Although I'm the only visitor of my humble blog. I don't make sense, yes I'm aware of my lack of "making sense" right now.

There are so many books on my bookshelf right now which I haven't read. What's wrong with me? I used to read so many books before, now I hardly have time or energy to do so. I recently bought two new books, "Naiv Super" by Erlend Loe and "Maskeblomstfamilien" by Lars Saabye Christensen- both norwegian authors, both amazing.

I'm watching TV as I right this and there is a show about luxury homes etc. Alas, man invented riddiculous inventions in order to be productive in his laziness. Why on earth would someone need a remote control for the toilet or the fridge?

A simple, yet informative introduction about me

2006-04-29T14:11:00.000-07:00

Hi, I'm the amazing, frozen nomad who currently resides in the country called Norway. Perhaps you know where it is, perhaps you don't, neither way I really don't care. I like camels, chocolate, beards and books. Not necessarily in that order. Seeing that camels are hard to get up here, I am satisfied with watching them on animal planet. The seemingly innocent channel. I have news for you my dear reader, animal planet promotes unsafe sex. There are animals jumping on each other out of nowhere. Fortunately camels are a bit more modest than that, shame on you, you horny elephants.

Anyway, I'm quite paranoid. I believe that people are after me and I always assume the worst of people. Ok, that's an exaggeration. My level of paranoia depends on my mood. At times I'm quite naive.

I love chocolate and I wholeheartedly believe that chocolate will play an important role in finding the cure for cancer and aids. Chocolate is so practical, healthy and enjoyable. My mother disagrees with me when I say healthy, she mocks me. Do you hear that, my mother mocks me. She claims that my chubbiness is a direct consequence of my chocoholism. My mother has signed me in at ACA-anonymous chocolate addicts. It's quite nice during these meetings. I've finally realized that I have a problem with chocolate, but I still hold on to my theory on the cure for cancer and aids.

Evolution is a theory created to explain why some people act like baboons. Think about it, you see a man who's making a total fool out of himself and you can laugh it out and say that he's genes are similar to a baboon's genes. People, you ought to realize that some people are stupid, regardless of genes.

Speaking of monkeys, why do people always portray Bush with a monkey. Did monkeys ever invade a country while holding on to an opinion by a disillusioned man? Hell no!
Monkeys are honorable, except baboons of course, leave them alone.

My back is hurting right now so cheerio!