Skål to an eventful week of poker, pirates, beautiful girls and all that jazz, and skål to another week of the same.

Well, Alt Prom turned out to be quite a fun night, after all, despite the inherent silliness of SWS. Ballistic ping pong, and matrimony, all in one night. It's amazing what refusing to speak english can elevate your evenings to a whole new level.

Some old letter I found while cleaning out my dusty computer. I'm surprised at myself, honestly.

( Dear Wanja/SPEAK, )

Jeg takker for fantastisk mat. Han svarer at klokken snart er 22.00. Slike øyeblikk er nydelige.

HEIA SØRLIE!

Titanic was a brilliant inspiration, who would have thought?

Pardon my sporadic monosentenced entries as of late, but well, there's a life to live and windows to fog.

Thanksgiving is an interesting event. It is basically celebrating those unspoken American values which have been so commonly accepted and to a certain extent loved in Europe. Excessive eating to such degrees that you are forced to bring an extra shift of clothes to make up for the sweat patches as a result from the extreme metabolism rate your body is forced to maintain, and to the explosive expansion of girth in the manner of hours. But that's that, really. No judgement passed - it was a fine meal, and an even more entertaining following Monopoly match which resulted in a glorious financial empire without peer.

My first post from over the ocean is not going to be much different than the usual. Then again, my posts are hardly uniform - they only share one characteristic: they all contain, What the hell. . . shall I write in some incarnation or other. However, this time around, to diverge slightly from the tried-and-true formula, I shall instead begin with:

How the hell . . . shall I write it.

Hardly the eternal question of mankind, but nonetheless a challenging one. The root of the problem is not finding a subject, but rather conveying it. The subject is America. Or rather, my first week in the country of sugar-coating and political correctness. Quite a few things have happened, among them a chewing out for cursing too much, two football games, cheerleaders and dress codes, and a general corruption of everyone's Christian soul and moral fibre. Norwegians know how to get things done.

Though one should never start a paragraph or sentence with firstly, I shall (but nonetheless cleverly avoiding doing so in the first place). Firstly, there is the American system of education. My experiences with it so far have been nothing but surprisingly pleasurable - that is, as long as I can keep my mouth shut. When I do not, mayhem generally ensues, after a spell of general fawning over my non-existent British accent (which is generally European, not British - but what can you expect from someone whose only source of said accent is Hugh Grant?). Purely academically, the schools are a pushover. Indeed, I was worried of being able to uphold a C average before I left, but it has now become apparent that it poses no problem whatsoever.

A short digression is warranted on the subject of U.S. History - something is very wrong with a country when I can simply guess and keep a 90% success rate. Mind you, I am not complaining too much. Just being hypocritical. It's what I do.

Speaking of which, cheerleader uniforms strike me as funny coming from a school system which has serious issues with students showing more skin than their lower arms and necks. Truly, why don't we simply introduce sharia and get it over with already. Other than that, I have no complaints on the subject of cheerleaders, apart from a general complaint on the subject of the stereotyping they suffer from. Most of the ones I conversed with were quite intelligent, and provided rather enjoyable conversation. Beauty and intelligence are not mutually exclusive.

This, in any case, was my conclusion after spending three-and-a-half hours with the entire team during a bus ride. How I managed to become the only fellow on a bus full of beautiful women is beyond me, but this is a country of opportunity, after all.

Immediately following this was my second American football game (where the foot rarely touches the actual ball, but I shall withhold my criticism for now) which was an event, not to be remembered, perhaps (though we did trounce the other team thoroughly - Go Panthers!) but one which granted insight into its importance in a community such as is common in these parts of Tennessee. In itself, the game is rather dull, but as I have come to realise, this is not the focus of these two-and-a-half-hours where men have mandate to kick each others arse and women to flash as much of their legs as womanly possible within a two-hour time-span. But rather, it serves much like the weekly church attendance as a focus point of the community, where people get together, exchange gossip and generally eat to get disgustingly fat.

All of these seem to be important elements, along with the feeling of rooting for your own team, which is an experience in itself. One which American football caters to, because it is a game of not so much tictacs as it is brute strength and screaming.

On another note, it seems that if you've an accent; looks, personality and pretty much everything else are besides the point. Because if you emphasise your Ts, and sound like an idiot, you are going to get run down by crazy American women.

Whom I love dearly, mind.

Sitting at school during economics - always entertaining that. You can just feel the stimuli from such an.. an interesting subject...

Can't you just feel the sarcasm? Spend five hours a week staring at Excel. It was useful for about, oh, three weeks? Ah well. No point in fretting. I shall be productive or the dogs shall harry me till I am bleeding and weary. Hunted. Jees. The dogs.
If that didn't make sense to you, then don't worry - if it did, then please don't kill me :D It's a joke, it's a jo.. no, no not the knife! Oh, not the eye oh god! Not the eyeeee!

Yes.

Now that I am as one-eyed as the Valfader I shall move on to the greener pastures of Elysium... Oh, wait, I'm not dead. Fine and dandy (taste the influence).



On a more serious note, I just started reading up on the Rocknes accident - for those of you who don't know, a norwegian merchant vessel hit shore and capsized in a fjord. 18 people were killed and quite a few are still missing - presumably dead now. Amongst them are primarily Phillipinos as they make up the main body of our merchant vessel crews. Since I am not a very pious person, praying isn't my fortè, so I will stick to dedicating my thoughts to the people who lost near ones, and those whose fate is still unknown.


"Nå går vi rundt"