lectrix_lecti: (Cat peeking)
I'm alive!

Warning: The Xbox 360 game Oblivion is highly addictive.

I scrapped the attempts at nanofiction I wrote for the art meme. This is going to take quite some time... My dear [livejournal.com profile] suedeiohead, since you missed the meme post, I just might include you anyway. But don't expect anything.

This Oblivion addiction is an absolute bitch to fight. I have the day off and am rather frantically mucking about on LJ, hoping that I'll manage to stay away from the Xbox and get out of the house and do the errands I was supposed to do on Saturday.

Somehow, probably when my husband wrestles the controller out of my grasp, I actually clean and knit and read a bit and even sleep some. Which is nothing less than amazing.
lectrix_lecti: (Autumn)
There's absolutely nothing more wonderful than an autumn day off from work.

If that day also involves the husband shaving off his godawful two weeks' worth of beard growth, pay day, having the most delicious pizza ever at Hell's Kitchen, making one's escape from Hell's Kitchen when the hipsters start pouring in to pickle themselves in alcohol and buying a new, warm, lovely coat, it's pretty perfect.

What's not so perfect is that some bloody thing always has to ail me.

My constant companion of this spring and summer, the cough, has gone away. Which is nice.
The idiotic pains that felt like a goddamn prolapsed disk has gone away (thanks to good shoes, I think). Which is nice.
The recurring pain from hell that has haunted my back for years hasn't made an appearance in ages. Which is nice.

So now my eyelids appear to have decided to act up, going all dry and puffy and itchy and sore and even fucking flaking. I go around all day and try desperately not to scratch my eyelids to bleeding shreds.

I went to the apothecary today and barely got to open my mouth before the pharmacist bustled off and fetched a cream for ultra sensitive and irritated eye area. That's how bad it looks - she saw what I needed.

Good dog, I hope it works.

Also, please don't let this be a new and interesting allergy. Say, to my eyeliner or mascara. I'm about as allergy free as they come. I have some issues with nickel and perfume, but nothing else, and I prefer it to stay that way.

In other news, our wedding photo is back from the very kind pro who offered to polish it up for us, for free I might add, and is now ready to be copied and distributed to various family, not to mention getting transformed into thank you cards. Things like that, which was exactly what we hoped to avoid by practically eloping, keep pasting themselves onto the to do list. Woo. But still, the photo looks very nice - many, many thanks to our friend.

Oh, and I bought more Carnivale. All is well in the world, provided my eye cream does what it's meant to do.
lectrix_lecti: (Thinking empty thoughts)
There's something exhilarating about shopping Big Expensive Stuff like, say, kitchen stoves. You walk into the shop, looking at several stoves and failing completely at pretending to know anything about such things, because the stove you already own is as old as you are and completely sans nifty features, and all of a sudden you've gone and bought one.

One that cleans itself and all.

And you walk out of the shop feeling like you haven't spent any money at all, because it was paid for with a card and you're not carrying anything, and you feel a bit light-headed because you have this vague notion that in a couple of weeks you won't have to wait for twenty minutes while the oven heats up, and you'll have a nice, shiny new thing in your kitchen instead of the rusty, creaky, battered old thing that currently resides there.

But it's all a bit hazy and unreal, because you don't get to unpack the shiny new thing when you get home and put it in its place.

Speaking of shopping; I now have a pair of absolutely perfect black cotton trousers and a pair of dark grey jeans. Never underestimate the power of boring chain stores*. And we have a new phone, which we sorely needed. It's sad having to get rid of the ultra cool Jacob Jensen phone that has served us well for nearly a decade, but that's the way of all things. Excuse me while I wax vastly philosophical over a telephone.

But it sure looks lovely.

The new one doesn't look anywhere near as impressive. It just looks like a... well, phone. Cordless. Black. Simple.

But it's very far from ugly, because we don't want ugly things in our home. Hell, even the LCD screen cleaner kit we bought today looks like it won a design award.

Yes, I care deeply about such things. I can't bear living among ugly, worn-out things. I have, and I grew restless and uneasy. I need a bit of beauty around me.

Such as the Morten Krogvold poster we have on the wall which I bought at a flea market for the price of a chewing-gum and a lolly, or the stereo which is very 70's retro, or our furniture which is all blond wood and straight lines and no frills.

By the by, has a single person featured on MTV Cribs selected any of their furniture or wallpaper themselves? All those houses look like the same decorator did them.

Plus: book shelves are beautiful by default, provided they're filled with books and not with china and various knick-knacks. There is much book shelf beauty in this home.

And soon, very soon, will one piece of distinct ugliness be replaced with a sleek white brand new piece of, if not beauty, at least aesthetic pleasantness.

*Lindex, for those of you who know of them
lectrix_lecti: (Computer INA-X)
320 GB external hard drive is in da house, ready for media files. Time to free up some internal hard drive space for games, but I digress.

The real point is; should I now pay up for Audiophiler? It's a lovely program, but will we ever get around to use it properly?

Plus; there's lots of Google shit pre-installed on the new hard drive. Sheesh, why don't they install cameras in our houses already, omnipresent buggers.

In other news, somehow "part-time sick leave" apparently translates to "there will be Very Important meetings every day that I have to attend - sick leave, bah humbug". I was supposed to have Monday off. Yeah, right. I was also supposed to have today off. Again, yeah, right. I made my escape early and still ended up working, proofreading a friend's manuscript (at least she bought me a late lunch). I was planning on not setting foot in the office on Friday, but nope, meeting it is.

And, completely randomly to finish this off: every pair of nice black trousers I own is worn out. There are absolutely no nice black trousers to be found in the shops.


Aug. 29th, 2006 11:42 am
lectrix_lecti: (Spirited away)
There's a really angry man outside, who's been swearing non-stop for about ten minutes. If he didn't repeat himself so much, I would have been impressed. As it is, "FUCK FUCK WHORE FUCK" *kicks garbage can* "WHORE FUCK WHORE" is just boring and mildly annoying.


More and more, I'm regretting that we didn't just quietly get married and never ever told anybody. I fear that a supermassive family get-together is being planned by my in-laws.

Now, the husband-to-be has a nice, small, manageable family. I don't, and I suspect they're not factoring in my various ex-sisters-in-law, nephews, nieces and even great-nephew. They did ask how many siblings I have, who in themselves almost outnumber my boyfriend's entire family, but as far as I know, they didn't inquire about other people who count as my family.

But I really, really need to push those thoughts away. It's their production, not mine. We're spending our wedding day doing nice, quiet things on our own just the way we like it, and if we have to endure a great big family thingamajig when we get back, fine. We don't have to do any planning, and we get to spend the big day itself in a way that suits us.


I don't suppose anybody finds crocheting interesting. That's really too bad.

I seem to have developed an addiction to making these floppy girly scarves. A got her soft green one, the first I made, and was very impressed (but she's rubbish at any craft and is very easily impressed when somebody makes something with their own hands). Have finished L's vivid green one, started a black one for myself and bought grey yarn for mum's (she was none too subtle when she saw L's, dropping very blatant hints about how nice and soft and warm and unusual it was).


I finally got around to fixing the embroidery I accidentally ripped loose on my wedding dress, and was floored when I realised that the sequins on it aren't sequins at all - they're tiny discs of mother-of-pearl. Goes to show how much attention I paid to it... But it's lovely. I think I need to take some close-ups and treat everyone to the pretty details. I bet you can't wait.


It must be such fun to be insane enough to believe you are Otherkin.
lectrix_lecti: (Coming through)
Going out for drinks with A Good Friend is faintly ridiculous the day before the hen party I so reluctantly agreed to let Another Good Friend arrange. I did however manage to go home before I got drunk, which was quite impressive, considering that tonight turned out to be one of my biannual "beer tastes good for once" happenings.

I hope they're not planning on giving me beer tomorrow. Hard liquor, please.

Got a (cheap) garment bag today, and a tripod. Purchasing the latter means that maybe I can get the damn macro/supermacro down. The days of the shaky hands fucking up the focus are over.

I also went and had a long and interesting talk with my boss, got overly excited because of what I'm supposed to do this autumn and have basically acted as hyper as I'm able to all day. Highly unusual beaming and bouncing has occurred. White chocolate mocca might temporarily have had something to do with that.

On a not so happy note, my oldest friend's father has had a brain haemorrhage today, which means that she can't come tomorrow. Bugger. And yes, I'm completely selfish about this and only think it's a pity because he can't babysit her son. Truth be told, I've never liked her father.

Bed. Wake up early tomorrow and kick boyfriend out to buy a suit (does this sound familiar, [livejournal.com profile] she_dragon?). Play with camera and tripod. Play with friends. Yeah.

Oh, and there's this.
lectrix_lecti: (Clucking bell (Blackadder))
I tidied up a pile of my shoulder bags today, ending up cleaning three and binning four, but the interesting bit is what I found in them.

Let's have a list, shall we.

  • Various receipts and outdated train timetables

  • 2 bags of sugar, apparently acquired in Rome

  • 1 refreshing towelette, also apparently acquired in Rome

  • 1 brownish-tinted lipbalm (the only lip-related thing with any colour I own, have been wondering where that was)

  • 1 mobile phone headset (which went missing about a week after I bought the phone last year)

  • 2 excellent gel-ink ballpoint pens

  • 1 craptastic gel-ink ballpoint pen

  • 2 yellow markers, dried up

  • 1 refillable Ronson lighter, in beautiful gunmetal grey and silver colours (bought at the Tivoli in Copenhagen, where there's a brilliant tobacco shop)

  • 8 (eight. E-I-G-H-T. For fuck's sake) non-refillable lighters

  • 1 pocket hairbrush+mirror

  • 1 camera bag, belonging to my Nikon APS

  • 1 book (Truman Capote - Music for Chameleons)

  • 1 microfibre cloth for cleaning glasses (been looking for that one for ages)

  • Jesus fucking Christ in thigh-high boots.

    Note to self: if something goes missing, look in the various shoulder bags.

    Note to self 2: when refilling a Ronson and checking if it works, and it doesn't, it's a bad idea to peer into it to see if anything's blocking something while still attempting to light it. It's potentially bad for fringes and eyebrows. Only marvellous reflexes will save said hair areas. Thankfully, one does have marvellous reflexes.

    The irony is that I was looking for a specific bag. And didn't find it.
    lectrix_lecti: (Terminal Beach - Ballard)
    Saw Dead Man's Chest yesterday, and... um. It was fairly mediocre, I think. A stack of memorable scenes (Keira stabbing two of Davy Jones' crew at once, lots of things rolling madly around, Davy Jones puffing smoke out of a severed tentacle, yeah) and not much else.

    Oh, I enjoyed it, and I wasn't bored for a second, but I really have to think to remember any of the plot and the goings-on. The Curse of the Black Pearl stuck far more in the brain.

    DMC reminded me a lot of The Two Towers; the poor film stuck in the middle. The story and most of the characters have already been established, now we're just waiting for the finale.

    In other news, the damn heat has been somewhat broken by a minor thunderstorm last night. Today, the air is fresh and the world looks clean, and I finally slept well and feel rested.

    Plans for the day: go fill out a fucking form (note the alliteration) about going abroad while on sick leave, buy more Calabria coffee (the south of Italy is vastly underrated in several fields), buy some handy stuff for the vacation and call the mail order company that promised to deliver my goods on Friday and now casually mentions it will take 7-10 days.

    That last one will gimme occasion for some delightful rage, I suspect.

    ETA: No rage. Sorted. Whew.
    lectrix_lecti: (Not to be reproduced)
    Wtf wtf wtf, suddenly all hits to my journal show as [livejournal.com profile] deadmanshake, while the IPs blatantly don't belong to him. Unless he moves from India to the UK to Norway to the US in hours...


    Look! It's lovely 14-eyelet DMs with twin zips, discreetly placed on each side of the lacing. And they're mine.

    Well, they will be, when I get a package from Cloggs. I saw them in a shop today, and made a drooling spectacle of myself, but they were sold out in my size. Rather than going on a presumably futile hunt in Oslo shops on Monday, I went and ordered them.

    I so love the zips. At age 18 or so, I would have scoffed enormously at something as pedestrian as zips on my DMs, but I've grown old and weary and very bloody tired of spending an extra half hour on my footwear each morning. Haven't owned zipless boots since I was about 23. My 8-eyelet DMs are sufficiently annoying to lace, thank you very much.

    I also got a pretty light green thin knit shrug to go with the wedding dress. It should go well with the dress. The shop had that shrug in a very nice dark beige too, and as they marvellously were on sale, I just might go get that too. They're highly useable as everyday wear, as well as being fine for my usual toned-down style of dressing up.

    Aaah. Now, if only Israel would get the hell out of Gaza, things would be fairly well in my world.
    lectrix_lecti: (Default)
    I've started on The Battle of Spain. Beevor mentioned at the signing that it's been well recieved in Spain, except for some neg from extremist factions on both sides, which should mean that the book isn't particularly biased.

    He mentioned the rather interesting fact that the Spanish civil war is one of the few conflicts where it's primarily the losers who have told the tale and written the history.


    Dropped by the library today, noticed the books for sale rack and bought T. Coraghessan Boyle's The Road to Wellville. I've read (and loved) Riven Rock and The Tortilla Curtain, so I can't wait to start The Road to Wellville. Oh, and I've seen the film a couple of times. I'm probably one of the very few persons on the planet who actually like it.


    It's still miraculously hot and sunny. It's getting to the point where I'm longing for some rain.


    I think I've found my wedding dress at Norway Design. The problem is that I only saw it in the window on my way to the Beevor signing and didn't get to look at the price tag, which no doubt is going to make my eyes bleed. Not to mention my bank account. Ho hum.
    lectrix_lecti: (Percy Wells 1 (grin))
    Today's entertainment.

    And I say unto thee: thou shalt not get tattoos in languages thou don't friggin' understand.

    I loathe "Chinese" and "Japanese" tattoos. If you don't know Hanzi or Kanji very, very well, just steer clear of them. You might think they look cool, but my first thought whenever I see such a tattoo is "I wonder if this person knows even the tiniest bit about these characters, and I wonder what it really means, as opposed to what this person thinks it means".

    The Hanzi Smatter site also points out bad penmanship, characters placed upside down and other such atrocities.

    Another interesting point is that such "symbols" are the cheapest tattoos you can get, so the tattoo artist is likely to not care much about the calligraphy and correctness.

    Of course, if someone who reads this happens to bear such a tattoo that they know what means (i.e. they know their Hanzi or Kanji) and it's a good piece of calligraphy, they don't need to get offended. Any others might want to send a photo of their ink to Hanzi Smatter.
    lectrix_lecti: (Tea)
    Helvetes LJ som bare støtter utvalgte HTML-tags. Jeg tenkte det kunne være smått stas å legge Underskog-feeden på brukerinfosida, men neida - et halvt blikk på koden var nok til å ferske at det var bare å drite i.

    Derimot konverterte jeg til Firefox i går, etter lang tid som ihuga Operatilhenger, og har nå oppdaget til min fryd at jeg kan kjøre Underskoghappenings rett inn i add-onkalenderen. Wheeee!

    Overgangen til Firefox kommer av to ting: jeg har flere Gmail-kontoer, og Firefox har en add-on som håndterer denslags. Videre har man Gspace, en søt liten add-on som sørger for at du kan bruke Gmailen din som fildelings- og lagringsplass.

    Og nå er jeg tindrende fornøyd fordi kalenderen tar Underskoggreier. Du, så praktisk. Det er det neateste jeg har sett på lenge.
    lectrix_lecti: (Percy Wells 5 (stormy sky))
    I'm reading Christopher Brookmyre's Be My Enemy and having occasional incidents of actual laughing-out-loud.

    As I habitually read several books at once, I've also started Orson Scott Card's Speaker for the Dead, but I got sufficiently caught up in Brookmyre to put Card aside for a few days, and, amazingly, to not start His Dark Materials yet.

    In other news, we've got new neighbours. They apparently think it's an ace idea to let a pint-sized kid take a big fucking Rottweiler for a walk each morning. The hellhound takes no interest in me, thank the gods, but yesterday it got pissed off at a passer-by. Witnessing a big mean-looking dog trudging after a stranger, barking and dragging along a powerless little child, was more than mildly unsettling.

    It's tempting to tell the lad's parents (parent, maybe? I've only seen his mum) to take their dog out themselves, and that it's fucking irresponsible to let a tiny child do it, but people who own Rottweilers are generally not all that open to criticism. I suppose we'll just have to wait for the beast to bite someone or drag the kid under a moving car or something.

    Oh, the humanity.

    Today's good news: The Libertine is finally shown on an Oslo cinema, as of tomorrow. Sadly, I'll be out of town, or I would have bought tickets for the opening. I've waited patiently for the DVD, not expecting it to make it to the cinemas here at all, but there will be no more worries.

    A little later...

    Guess who locked herself out of her office, in a deserted building?

    Guess who had to run to another building, look for a master key, not finding one etc etc ad nauseaum?

    Guess who had a major hassle just getting access to a bloody telephone, so she could call security and get them to let her in?

    Ohgodohgodohgod the embarrassment when the guard person showed up.
    lectrix_lecti: (Default)
    I've asked about what kind of grades it takes to get admitted to the master programme in general literature, and was told that sure, my grades will do nicely.

    I just might start. A course or two a term, and a term's leave to finish the dissertation. Hmmm.

    Of course, I regret that I didn't go for linguistics instead of literature. I did a few terms' worth of linguistics and philosophy of language, but I spectacularly failed my master level semantics exam... I also regret that I didn't just go for Japanese or Portoguese or some other pretty pretty language.

    Since I can't get the master studies started until autumn at the earliest, maybe I should find a nice evening class in some language or other. Maybe German-for-people-who-really-know-the-language-but-have-gotten-rusty. Or French in the same vein.
    lectrix_lecti: (Default)
    First, the Holocaust revisionist conference in Tehran. I must admit it's quite refreshing to see other nations than the US attempting to police the world, what with the Iranian president suggesting that if they decide that Holocaust happened (a bit delayed, that), they will consider suitable punishment for Germany, such as giving over land to establish a Jewish state, so Israel can cease to exist. On the other hand, irrational minds are always very, very scary.

    Second, The Vineyards got a review in Dagsavisen I rather agree with, and amused me by opening with "as soon as Gluecifer steps down from the throne, The Vineyards are ready to take over" or something to that effect. Good point.

    Third, yesterday Tom Spanbauer's The Man Who Fell In Love With The Moon arrived from Amazon. And I finished it yesterday. 368 pages and a good chunk out of my night's sleep, but I couldn't bring myself to putting it down for longer than about five minutes at a time. Holy hell, what a novel. The imagery, the oddly constructed sentence gems, the story. The play with identities and self-defining. The traces of magic realism. It's funny and sad and ugly and beautiful and thrilling and epic and convoluted.
    Thanks muchly to [livejournal.com profile] dew_dropped, who recommended it.
    lectrix_lecti: (Default)
    Despite getting a new band tee last night, I will spare the Constant Weadews another view of my breasts violently distorting a print. Actually, this could be a trick remark, as the print is placed so high that The Curse Of The C-cup doesn't affect it, but I'll still spare you yet another chest photograph.

    Went to The Vineyards' release party at Last Train last night, realised that it's been some time since I've seen them as they've gotten better, and our little household went home with one CD and two tees.

    This might be considered a wee kickoff for one of the most thrilling concert months ever, with Thåström, Seigmen and Depeche Mode lined up.

    In other news, bloody Hard Rock Café Oslo has taken it upon themselves to interfere with Last Train's gigs, prohibiting gigs on Fridays and Saturdays and before 23 pm any other days. The wankers actually manage to blame it on the noise (oooh, hard rock indeed), instead of admitting that they're scared shitless of tiny Last Train a couple of meters up the street nicking a dozen or two of their customers.

    Not that the newly opened Hard Rock Café will manage to get much cred or a suitable celebrity clientele in Oslo, no matter how much effort they put into repressing their friendly neighbourhood proper rock café. Native rock stars are secterist and snobby, and have their own hangouts (Last Train among them, of course). Hard Rock will probably only manage to attract Pop Idol has-beens and the like.

    By the way, brownie points to anyone who knows the "Constant Weadews" reference.
    lectrix_lecti: (Default)
    Today, I hate my job very very much (except from getting to sort out a really cool problem, which makes me kinda pseudo-vicariously cool) and I can't wait to get home.

    Being the Jungian personality type I am (not to mention that I'm obsessed with Jungian personality types), I need to gather strength for tomorrow's housewarming party at a friend's (and wham, there goes both Nick Cave and Velvet Underground in the head - All Tomorrow's Parties), I crave some serious alone time before events such as that.

    Maybe I should continue tagging old LJ entries. Or start ripping the dreaded last batch, alphabetically, of the CD collection. It annoys me so much that whenever I want to listen to Violent Femmes, the only song I have is the one off the The Crow soundtrack. Plus, I need XTC.

    The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova is damn good, by the way. I had a moment of utter disappointment, screaming "INCONSISTENCY!", and then she sorted it neatly out in the next paragraph. Whew. I'm eagle-eyed and extremely short-tempered when it comes to inconsistencies in novels, a legacy from the literature studies, I suppose.

    Me bloke's working the late shift at the library today, so I'll be having dinner all on my lonesome, which today I suspect means pizza at Justisen. Wait. No. It's Friday, which means that Justisen will be brimming with aprés-work beer drinkers. Bugger.

    Sometimes I wish I liked to cook.
    lectrix_lecti: (Default)
    Yesterday, I went to the hi-fi shop to see if my headphones were back from service and was told that because AKG is currently switching to another import/service firm in Norway, they hadn't even been sent over yet. Had to stamp down on a hissy fit, and good thing I did, because the clerk went to check with the manager just in case, and the manager told him to get me a new set.

    Brand new K26!

    Besides, work is going very well indeed these days, the boyfriend got me this and a very beautiful silver thumb ring for my birthday, we've decided where to go on our summer vacation and we've got plane tickets for Madrid in April.

    All is well.
    lectrix_lecti: (Default)
    It would seem that even though you've been a complete idiot and lost the guarantee thingy you got when buying your AKG K26 P headphones, you still get them serviced for free. Or, in the case of your snapped headphones being non-repairable, which you will find out within a week, you get brand new ones. As a bonus, the manager at the hi-fi shop was really nice and didn't mind at all (at least not visibly) that you scared two other customers badly as they stood next to you and overheard your K26 brokenness discourse - whilst jacking their own freshly bought K26s into their iPods. It was, however, made clear that it was probably your own fault that the headphones broke in the first place.

    The observant reader will by now have figured out that "you"/"your" in this context is easily replaced with "I"/"my".

    I contemplated getting Sennheisers, but found that there was absolutely no way I could stand the thought of any headphones but my lovely AKGs. I'll cheerfully take a discussion on K26 vs. PX 200 any day. Not that I actually think Sennheiser headphones are of anything less than outstanding quality (but please, do ask me what I think of PortaPro), but I've tried on the boyfriend's PX 200s and find that I vastly prefer my K26s.

    Now, all I have to do is somehow survive another week without proper portable music.
    lectrix_lecti: (Default)
    I find it slightly disturbing that I've managed to get more done at work today, puttering about in a semi-hungover/sleep depraved haze, than I did yesterday and the day before that put together. I can't wait to find out what grave errors I've made while my brain has been taking today off but my hands have been busy.

    The faculty Christmas party was obviously fine, since I'm a zombie today. I didn't drink much, but what I drank was of the whisky variety, and it appears Upper Ten gives me more of a hangover than other such beverages. Or I can blame the one glass of cognac I had, because cognac tends to make my head somewhat heavy.

    Of course, there are some things to bitch about, like how the vegetarian dish was a rather sad little feta salad and then a pile of soggy ratatouille, accompanied by a white wine that was bland and a red wine that tasted like raspberry juice. Or the fact that there were exactly two whiskys available, Upper Ten and Chivas Regal, I'm no huge fan of either. Or the IT guys again being in charge of the music, of which they know sod all.

    Then again, I pulled out The Outgoing Witty Persona and had very nice chats with lots of people. And a not so nice instance of being outed as familiar with little dried green leaves, damn and blast. That's not a thing to mention when surrounded by staid grown-ups, thanks a fat fucking bundle. The worst thing is that I've never discussed that subject with the outer, he took a wild guess and I was taken massively aback and couldn't fake innocence for the life of me.

    I narrowly avoided dancing with one extremely cheerful co-worker, and ended up discussing gingerbread baking with him instead. There is no subject I'm unable to chit-chat about when I'm in the mood to be a conversationalist.

    Staggered home far too late and got next to nothing in the way of sleep, so I will now sneak off early from work, go home and keel over.

    July 2009

    S M T W T F S
    5 67891011


    RSS Atom

    Most Popular Tags

    Style Credit

    Expand Cut Tags

    No cut tags