Random round-up

This entry is brought to you by Reduced Alex, with exams and a party coming up. Will get back to pretending to be interesting in a few days.

I've spent 7 hours in the kitchen today, cooking. Which is remarkable for me: I very rarely cook, besides helping my mother out. Today it was a joint effort. An entrée, main course, cakes and various desserts, all for 15 people. From the recipes of a Norwegian haute cuisine persona. If this this is not good I will take an oath never to return to the site of cooking ever again.

Was the antithesis of chic yesterday: a jacket that is a cross between a duvet and a parka, no make-up, stringy wet hair and a backpack. I take a lot of space when I'm 'me', and it entails looking composed. Someone in some tv series spoke of women who 'wore heels at 10 am', I do. And I'm used to catching mens' eyes, not being overlooked as a plain girl in a huge jacket. Good to know that I can blend in, a kind of city camo.

There was never a recounting of our beautifully drunken Halloween, was there? Better late than never. I feel like reliving it to drown my Russian sorrows. Kristine and I spent 8 miserable hours not sleeping on the bus to Trondheim, to visit Katrine. We were cheap and decided to take the bus, at 11 pm so we would arrive fresh-faced and happy the next morning: no important classes lost, and optimal time spent drunk with Katrine. No sleep was had, whatsoever. And do you think Katrine had steaming cups of coffee waiting for us? We had to go buy instant coffee. The horror! Though Trondheim did have something called 'Sweet Chili Coffee', a cappuccino sweetened with some sort of chili syrup, divine for approximately five sips.

We spent Halloween in the company of a very drunk, lovely boy named Ali. He dressed up in bad drag: a sequined dress thing that reached to approximately the top of his thighs, the kind of stay-up stockings that plummet down when you move outside your door and really bad red lips. We had to teach him how to walk, talk and be girly. I had a sort of out of body, meta experience with my own femininity: by the end of the evening we had him sitting beautifully, and me getting comfortably wide-legged. Ali turned out to be better at flirting than the rest of us combined: he stole hugs from all the men in sight. I don't quite see how he got through the evening without taking a few punches to the head.

And I cannot stop listening to 'Sexy Bitch', no clue why. I don't particularly like it.

Random round-up

This entry is brought to you by Reduced Alex, with exams and a party coming up. Will get back to pretending to be interesting in a few days.

I've spent 7 hours in the kitchen today, cooking. Which is remarkable for me: I very rarely cook, besides helping my mother out. Today it was a joint effort. An entrée, main course, cakes and various desserts, all for 15 people. From the recipes of a Norwegian haute cuisine persona. If this this is not good I will take an oath never to return to the site of cooking ever again.

Was the antithesis of chic yesterday: a jacket that is a cross between a duvet and a parka, no make-up, stringy wet hair and a backpack. I take a lot of space when I'm 'me', and it entails looking composed. Someone in some tv series spoke of women who 'wore heels at 10 am', I do. And I'm used to catching mens' eyes, not being overlooked as a plain girl in a huge jacket. Good to know that I can blend in, a kind of city camo.

There was never a recounting of our beautifully drunken Halloween, was there? Better late than never. I feel like reliving it to drown my Russian sorrows. Kristine and I spent 8 miserable hours not sleeping on the bus to Trondheim, to visit Katrine. We were cheap and decided to take the bus, at 11 pm so we would arrive fresh-faced and happy the next morning: no important classes lost, and optimal time spent drunk with Katrine. No sleep was had, whatsoever. And do you think Katrine had steaming cups of coffee waiting for us? We had to go buy instant coffee. The horror! Though Trondheim did have something called 'Sweet Chili Coffee', a cappuccino sweetened with some sort of chili syrup, divine for approximately five sips.

We spent Halloween in the company of a very drunk, lovely boy named Ali. He dressed up in bad drag: a sequined dress thing that reached to approximately the top of his thighs, the kind of stay-up stockings that plummet down when you move outside your door and really bad red lips. We had to teach him how to walk, talk and be girly. I had a sort of out of body, meta experience with my own femininity: by the end of the evening we had him sitting beautifully, and me getting comfortably wide-legged. Ali turned out to be better at flirting than the rest of us combined: he stole hugs from all the men in sight. I don't quite see how he got through the evening without taking a few punches to the head.

And I cannot stop listening to 'Sexy Bitch', no clue why. I don't particularly like it.