My Vagina is Angry

When I was a freshman at PLU I went to a theater show called the Vagina Monologues. I didn't know what to expect, but mostly had just gone to support my super cool RA Molly Feider who had a small role. To make it short--the show was 100% hilarious, entertaining, moving and most of all inspiring.

A quick note about the The Vagina Monologues: The play is made up of a varying number of monologues read by a varying number of women (although initially the author of the play Eve Ensler performed every monologue herself). Every monologue somehow relates to the vagina, whether it focuses on sex, love, rape, menstruation, mutilation, masturbation, birth, orgasm, the variety of names for the vagina, or simply the vagina as a physical part of the body. And most incredibly, the monologues are based on Ensler's interviews with REAL WOMEN from all around the world. She didn't just make it all up herself! The play is the cornerstone of the VDAY movement which Ensler began over ten years ago in 1998. The first V-Day benefit took place on Valentine's Day of that year. The "V" in V-Day stands for Valentine, Vagina, and Victory. The goal of the movie is to end violence against women and girls across the globe. There is so much to say about the movement and the play, but I think you have the general idea: The Vagina Monolgues is a part of this bigger movement catapulted by Ensler over ten years ago that raises money to help end violence against females. If you are interested in knowing more, check out the VDAY official website.

But back to that special day in February, 2005 when I came in contact with VDAY on PLU's campus... The first time I saw the show performed I was filled with a yearning to join up! I remember talking with Meredith (my endlessly patient roommate at the time) about how I would love to perform what I thought was the best monologue in the show: My Angry Vagina. I thought it was awesome because it was true, it was hilarious, it was real, genuine and did I mention you get to swear and yell on stage (and that it was encouraged!?)? I was, to say the least, intrigued.

So the first two years, I supported the Monologues by buying a ticket and being a sort of unofficial spokesperson around campus. The next year I tried out, and was cast in a piece called Wear and Say, in which I performed with two other girls (including Kristi Greenaway!) in a fun, random depiction of different womens vagina's personalities. If you want to see what it is like...here is a video I found on the tube:

That was fun, but I really wanted to be a bit... angrier. I am not sure if I planned on auditioning my final year or not. The auditions really snook up on me, as I was busy trying to run Kreidler basically by myself, distracted by finishing up my first collegiate attempt at soccer and well you know, I suppose I was also falling madly in love with Lars the Norwegian. So I don't really remember what my plan was in regards to the Monologues. The director asked me if I was trying out, she said that she was hoping that I would. It wasn't until later until I heard that she really hadn't been satisfied with any of the girls trying out for the role of Angry Vagina...because she had me in mind!! So I tried out, and got cast with my dream role (which I really believe will forever be the highlight and end of my acting career). Here is another video from the tube, of what I believe is a very successful take on Angry Vagina.

Where is all this reminiscing coming from you ask? Well besides the fact that VDAY is right around the corner...I also just received this link full of equally terrifying pictures of me from a PLU photographer who shot the Monologues last year. Look at your own RISK. For me, it was an amazing night...lots of people came to support me (even Brenda from as far as Seattle!) and being on stage is an incredible high. People laughed at me. In a good way.

So, the morals are: take a risk, put yourself out there, learn about VDAY, go see it if you have a chance, donate money if you can, educate yourself, ask questions, be supportive and open minded---but most of all don't be violent. Over and out.

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Hamar Kino

First of all, k's in Norwegian are usually pronounced like shhh and not the typical sharp k sound we are used to in English. So the word kino, or movie theater is pronounced shino, not kino like we would say it in English. Or if you are familiar with IPA, the Norwegian word for the movies would be like so: çiːno.

Now that we have that straight and you can successfully read the title of the post, I have to share a bit about Lars and I's recent experience at the kino. This story is a few weeks old, but even so, it just keeps spinning around and around in my head and making me laugh so I have to share.

First some background--for Christmas, my sisters sent me the Twilight series straight out of Forks, WA that I was doing my best to avoid. The whole vampire-teenage-angst-werewolf love triangle situation just didn't really seem all that appealing to me. So I was a bit surprised when the package that I ripped open in excitement was full to the brim with these lengthy books. I should have known they would suck me in because the fact my sisters Cori and Chris were hooked was the best indication of an addictive series; my sister Cori reads all the time and has great taste in novels. She has successfully recommended books to me for years. Chris, on the other hand, doesn't really read books--ever actually. So the combination of Chris's, Cori's and my sister-in-law Ashley's reaction to the books should have been enough to get me on the wagon.

So against my own wishes I started reading, and I was instantly happy they sent them to me--I was hooked immediately. I read the entire series in less than a week and my life was absolutely consumed by the books. I didn't want to do anything else until I could finish the story!

Even though I personally really enjoyed the impossible love story, it is also easy to understand why someone else might not. The books are a bit young, and they center on a love that if you are to analyze it, is a bit unhealthy and obsessive. I would argue however that they are books that should not be interpreted for much more than they are, and instead just enjoyed on the adventurous and mystical level that they reach us on. With that said, I found this hilarious Twilight bash online (click here to read) which actually made me laugh out loud. The author does admit to being as obsessed with the books as anyone else, but I think she also tries (in vain) to separate herself from the rest of us crazed fans (because that makes her a stronger woman, right? Right? Guys?). Even though I think she is holding back a bit, I also completely and one hundred percent agree and sympathize with the author's uh, frustration, or maybe it is better to just go ahead and qualify her frustration as a sexual frustration. I won't give any more away, except to say if you are also a Twilight fan that was waiting and waiting and waiting for the sex scene, than you might need to check out that link there. So funny.

But back to the movie theater...I was planning on meeting a girl named Imli (who may or may not be the biggest Twilight fan in the world) at the movies one Sunday afternoon\evening. I had finished the series, and wanted to see if the movie could even compete. It was Imli's 5th time seeing the movie since it had arrived in the Hamar Kino. Lars made the choice of his own free will to be nice enough to come with me (although I think he regretted it instantly later).

So we are sitting in the very front row, with quite a few unoccupied seats on either side of us. In Norway (and most European countries to my knowledge) the seats are numbered. There is no free seating like there is in the U.S.--each ticket has a number that corresponds with a seat. So a lady came walking in front of us, completely focused on finding Plass Nummer 6; it was obvious that it was of the utmost importance for her to be in the proper seat. Plass Nummer 6 happened to be directly on my right. Then a group of four girls came who were hoping to fit in the seats to the left of Lars, but as he and I were in seats 4 and 5 there wasn't enough room for all of them. They came down to ask the woman next to us if the three of us could just move down one seat to make room for the group of friends. The woman wasn't having it. She was insisting, louder and louder I might add, that she was in the right place and that she wasn't moving and that those were the rules! The young spokesgirl for the group of friends was slightly embarrassed as she walked away, and I felt a bit helpless watching as they were trying to decide who was going to sit on the floor so they could all drool over Edward's sparkly good looks in unison.

So I made a decision that Lars will probably never forgive me for (haha) and asked the woman if it was possible for her to just move one seat down so the girls could all sit together. The woman responded to me like no one had ever talked to her so nicely in her life, and agreed readily. I instantly made a new best friend that wanted to talk to me for the rest of the movie. Great. So maybe I regretted the decision a little as I had to repeatedly ask the woman to be quiet because we had to watch the movie and to stop asking me questions because I was trying to watch. But I was polite. As polite and as patient as humanly possible. It always feels good to reach out to someone who is obviously a little (or a lot) off the mark on the 'normal' scale and try to make their experience a little more enjoyable.

I was polite all the way through the previews mind you. It wasn't until about halfway through the movie that I couldn't hold back the laughter anymore. You see, this woman had been sporadically reading the Norwegian subtitles out loud to herself as the actors were speaking them on screen. I am pretty sure I was the only one who could hear that...but I am positive that the entire audience (which was packed full with 14 year old potential Norwegian supermodels and sometimes their obliging boyfriends, mind you) could hear her randomly yelling, and I mean yelling out key lines in the movie: 'Bella!' 'Edward!' She was yelling the characters names, and sometimes their emotions but I think I actually choked on a salty piece of popcorn when she started ad libbing the film with her own romantic interpretations.

All in all, it was a hilarious experience. Lars and I have interesting luck in movie theaters. When we went to see Stepbrothers in Tacoma this summer we witnessed a family meltdown which resulted in them getting kicked out. And then our recent mall purchases got stolen. And then the ninjas attacked. But I didn't find five dollars.

Also, if any of you are interested in reading an illegally posted (but now recognized by the author) link of Midnight Sun... vær så god. It is another version of the first book in the Twilight series as seen through the eyes of Edward...Come on, I know you all want to get in his head. ;)

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Lettin' Off Some Steam

Needless to say, Lars and I have been a bit stressed out lately. Luckily for us, we had the weekend just waiting for us so we could drink away our problems, I mean, so we could have a chance to let loose.

Saturday night while I was at work, Lars went out with the boys for a birthday dinner celebration. From left to right in the picture below you can see Sondre, Lars, Marek (from Poland), Knut, Martin and Halvor. Sondre was the birthday boy, or birthday man I suppose I should say. He just turned 30!

I was pleasantly surprised when the party train made a stop by my work. I served them up some beers and worked while they laughed it up. Once I was done, I hurried home, treated myself to a few drinks of my own, showered and hustled down to Nelly's, a bar right around the corner from our apartment. The place was packed, as usual for a Saturday night, but I knew just where to find the boys--right around the foosball table! We played and played until the bar closed...and then we headed back to our place for a 'nightcap'!


It was good to see some of the guys again that we don't hang out with as much; I hadn't seen most of them since my trip to Lillehammer when we first met. I was also really happy to get to know Marek a little better. When I first met him, my Norwegian was zero to none so we hadn't really had a chance to interact. And I was able to introduce him to tequila for the first time!

Sunday Lars and I took it really easy. We were going to go skiing with the boys but all the fun that we had had the night before caught up to both of us in a big, bad way. Guess there's always next weekend. :)

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Angry Americans

To fully understand the ridiculousness of an immigration office employee's recent statements, we have to travel back in time to November 7th, 2008 when I first visited said office. This day I went to the office with the hope of sitting down and talking with someone about my options and the best way to go about things in the quest to obtain a legal right to stay in Norway above and beyond the 3 months granted by my tourist visa. I never intended to turn in my application; I didn't have any money with me, or the passport photos I knew were necessary. Just going to INQUIRE. When it was my turn, I was welcomed to the counter with a friendly vær så god (which among other things can mean 'after you') and a smile. But I am telling you, as soon as that lady saw my passport her attitude took an abrupt 180. I explained my goal, and my purpose for being there and she looked straight into my eyes and said, 'Well you've just done this all wrong'. 'Uh...ok...the application, or...what do you mean?' 'Just everything. You can't just come here and get a job and start working. If I did that in America it just wouldn't work out would it?' Now, if I would have been a bit more assertive, I would have asked for my papers and my passport back and I would have walked right out of that office. However, that is not what happened that 7th day of November. I was desperate to find out more, and desperate to work it all out (and most likely, I was intimidated by the huge sheet of thick, clear plastic slobbered with forehead prints that separated me from this employee. So I continued to ask...and finally understood when she said that I had done it 'all' wrong that she meant I should aplly from within the U.S. and not from Norway.

Got it. Lars and I had both read that on the UDI site, but the problem is that the site and the laws contradict themselves so many times it is hard to keep it straight. Also, it seems a bit challenging aka, impossible, to have the incumbent job offer before you arrive in the country. But then again, maybe that's the intention anyway. But since I had in fact NOT applied at all, you would think she would just tell me that it is really best to apply from the U.S. and send me on my way... but no...

She had already stamped and notarized my application and she told me that there was a chance that it would be ok. I supposed that I had to go through with it. She told me she had all the information that she needed, but just needed the 1100, kr to get my application along its way. Oh boy, you should have seen the look on her face when I told her that I hadn't brought money with me. But I suppose you don't have to if you can just imagine a contemptuous voice saying 'Well it isn't free you know'. I borrowed the money from Ivana (I would say a friend, but that is a bit of a stretch) who was in the waiting room and hesitantly suggested that maybe, oh just maybe we should include the a picture that is requested on the top of the application. 'Yes, I suppose that would be good,' she answered.

So it would be easy to assume that this woman just had a huge bunch in her panties, or that she was just generally an unpleasant person. But I had noticed that she greeted me warmly, and that she treated the person before me with grace. So I suspected that it was something about me that really turned her off. I think I left the office thinking that it had to do with me speaking English to her during this interaction, which was something I felt guilty about already. I didn't know much Norwegian at all back in November (when I had been in class for about 2 weeks).

So it was with renewed hope that I visited the office again with Lars this Tuesday. I thought that the interaction should be a much more pleasant one now that I could converse in Norwegian. And I couldn't have been more wrong. After waiting an hour to have our turn at the plastic monster, we were greeted by the same, condescending, assuming, over-tanned and thus over-wrinkled, bitter, middle aged woman with the same suspiciously friendly 'vær så god!'. My spirits, which were already dwindling, dropped to the floor in a shriveled little ball. I took a big swallow and approached the desk and said in Norwegian that I got this letter in the mail. The letter has all the information that she needed, so luckily I didn't have to explain more than that. And 'luckily' for me, since there was a Norwegian person with me, she would successfully ignore me and talk in Norwegian as if I wasn't there and couldn't understand a damn thing -- even though I had explained to her (in Norwegian) that I could manage her language.

But it only gets better. As she read us the rejection letter I could feel Lars' tension mounting. You see, he has spent the past days researching the Norwegian laws and finding what I feel are more than just loopholes but instead actual paths that my application could have, and most likely would have traveled upon unhindered. To this woman's credit, she is not the one that has made the decision on my application, it is UDI who has done that. But Lars began to explain to her, that if someone (HER, for example) in this office could have helped me properly when I came in November and gave me some answers to my questions, then we could have done it the right way and avoided all this trouble in the first place. Her response to that was that of course she would help someone that came in asking questions, as she snook a nervous glance at me. Lars continued, and asked if there was someone that we could sit down with and talk to. Nope. Absolutely not. And with her next words I finally and completely understood her reaction and general attitude towards me. In response to the hastiness with which she, or excuse me, someone 'processed' my application in November she basically said, and I quote with my own translation and paraphrase, 'Well we just get so many angry Americans in here that think they have rights in this country, when they don't, so we just go ahead send their applications right away in so they can get their negative response.' It was obvious that there was also an implication that their negative response (was one that they deserve) and that they just send their application in (so they don't have to deal with us self-righteous Americans). Great. So that's when I lost it. I managed to squeak out the Norwegian equivalent of, 'But I wasn't an angry American...' before the tears really started streaming down my cheeks. I was so mad and overwhelmed with this woman's unfair prejudice that I almost left. She was truly unbelievable.

So that is the story. Apparently this woman hasn't learned a lesson that many of us learn in our early youth--that you cannot assume things about every member of a group based on the actions of one, or maybe to give her the benefit of the doubt, the actions of a few, or many.

I realize that I haven't even mentioned why they rejected my application because I have been so caught up with this hellish woman! But they rejected it on the grounds that I applied from within Norway and not from the U.S. So from here, I will be putting together an appeal which will include all the things that I should have had in the first place that make my request reasonable and much more likely to be granted. I have to appeal within three weeks, and then I am allowed to stay legally in the country for the duration of the appeal, which according the the UDI website is approximately one month. If my appeal is not accepted then I guess I will have to head back to the U.S. and try again from there. Who knows.

So now I just keep playing the waiting game. Love it.

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Nothing as silent as snow

The portrait of the right is of Danish writer Helge Rode. Today I was sitting down with a Alf, a regular at Poesi (when I say regular, I mean at least twice a day). He was sipping some Rooibos Orange tea and patiently helping me along in a Norwegian conversation. As we were watching the snow fall down outside I stammered out something about how the snow made everything seem so quiet. He miraculously understood what I was saying (I suppose after almost 70 years of life you are a bit more clever than the average bear), and echoed my thoughts much more eloquently with a quote from this Danish writer: Det er ingenting i verden så stille som sne (There is nothing in the world as silent as snow). I thought it was fairly brilliant, and I am also quite pleased that after 3 months of Norwegian class that I can also read\understand some Danish. Not bad.

But this Helge lady is absolutely right--the town is so still and peaceful with its snow cloak as a buffer.

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Not Good News

I'll make this one short. Lars' dad knows someone that works in the police department in Tynset (also who used to work in Hamar) and he asked him to look into the ambiguous letter that I got in the mail on Friday. Long dramatic story short...he found out my application for a work permit was denied.

Rejected: I am not really sure what this means. I know that I can (and will) appeal the process, and basically reapply. This has come as a shock to everyone (besides me...I had a hunch of what the outcome would be from a dream). But Lars' family, my boss, our friends, everyone that doesn't have freaky dreams was surprised...I am sure my coach would be shocked as well if I had told him. Everyone thinks it is strange and that there is no good reason for this decision. The contact in Tynset said that he thinks I just got unlucky. I am worried that I will have to go back to the U.S. for the duration of the appeal which honestly I can't afford to do right now.

I can't help but be really worried for my boss. If I left, he would be screwed as far as employees go, and I am also concerned that the way this situation looks on paper could be troublesome for him.

Complicated. A bit scary. Frustrating. Irritating. Sad. Strange. Overwhelming.

However, as far as being overwhelmed goes...the feeling that outweighs all is that no matter what does happen in the next weeks everything is going to turn out okay in the end. But still--yikes.

Oh yeah, it's snowing again.

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Søknad om Arbeidstillatelse

Basically every day my heart flutters a bit as I jam the key into our mail box (sometimes it sticks) and wing open the little metal door hoping that there will be something there for me...and especially something from the police replying to my request for a work permit, or arbeidstillatelse.

The past couple of days there has been absolutely nothing, zero, zilch in the mail for us--not even bills! I have been getting more and more anxious ... I am quickly running out of the money I had saved before I left and if I don't get paid soon I won't be able to continue paying my bills. Needless to say, the whole situation is a bit worrisome.

Then today it was as if all the mail from the past couple days had been stopped up somewhere and it came all at once: my bill for school, something bill-ish for Lars, a message that I had a package at the post office (!), AND a little envelope addressed to me from Hamar Politiet!!!!! I ripped it open at once to read the most ambiguous message imaginable:

Basically it just says that I need to come to their office as soon as possible to hear the verdict on my application. Ugh, would it have been so hard just to deliver a verdict and then ask me to come in? Something like, 'You are obviously a valuable addition to the Norwegian society and we are more than pleased to grant you permission to work in this country. Please come by the office to finish some paperwork' would have sufficed. Or if the verdict is to be negative, fine, great! But just tell me already! Something like 'You are American, unnecessary and unwanted. Get the fuck out. Please come by the office to finish some paperwork and also so that we can ensure you are getting the fuck out' would do the trick.

Whatever the reason is, whatever the verdict is--why can't they just tell me? Waiting is torture. My boss has also been getting anxious. He is asking me every time I see him if there is any news from the Politiet, and I always have to tell him no. So as soon as I heard something today, I stopped in to let him know. He dropped everything and called the man that signed the letter, some Bjørn Willy Otterstad, to see if he could find anything else out for me. Unfortunately this Bjørn character said that they cannot disclose any information over the phone. It has to be in person. Ok fine, Tuesday it is.

Also, it cracks me up that they so kindly suggest that I should come within in a week. Are they crazy? A week? Come on! If their office was open today, I would have been there as soon as I opened the letter! Lickety-split! I would assume it is fair to say that anyone who is awaiting on one of these decisions is in a similar situation as me--their life is hinging on the outcome of this application. And ever so conveniently, the office is only open on Tuesdays and Thursdays. I received the letter on a Friday. From what I can see, there is no worse time to receive the letter...I have the absolute maximum waiting time possible.

But at least I have been summoned. Now I just wait for Tuesday...

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Skal vi til Singapore?

Not only was today a beautiful day (a bit cold, but SUNNY and crisp), I was greeted quite unexpectedly as I was leaving my apartment.

First, I suppose it is important for me to share a tidbit about your typical Norwegian apartment building atmosphere. It is rare that anyone is even cordial when passing in the hallway or on the stairs. Most people just keep on walking; Norwegians find no reason to be unnecessarily friendly towards strangers. A girl that I used to work with at Poesi (she left for another job) told me that she has only seen her neighbor a few times, and all of them have been awkward to say the least. There was one particular incident that really exaggerates the issue at hand--one time, both Ida (my ex-coworker) and her neighbor were opening their doors to leave at the same time. As soon as her neighbor saw her, she gasped in shock and slammed the door.

Personally I have never experienced anything as extreme as the case of Ida's freaky neighbor, and I don't predict that that is a normal reaction for Norwegian cohabitants of a common building. I would say however that the norm is silence. Polite silence.

So this morning when I heard a hearty 'Good Morning!' (in English mind you), I was completely surprised. The greeter was a small Asian lady that, to digress a bit, smelled really nice. I had smelled her all the way down the stairs and was wondering who it was in front of me that clicked her boots so loudly and had to have bathed in a bucket of fresh spring flowers with a touch of tangerine juice on top. I was so taken aback that I just smiled and opened the door to leave. As I stepped through the door she said 'After you,' as if she had been holding it for me. 'Wow, what a beautiful day,' she continued as we walked towards the street. I agreed a bit hastily (wow, I have become more Norwegian than I realized) and started to make my way to school. I was going to be late. Something, I'm not sure what, made me stop and go back. I whirled around and asked her where she was from. This time it was her that was surprised. 'Singapore,' she answered. I asked her some more questions and learned that she is visiting a friend that lives a floor above me and that she will be here for ten days. And then she continued to tell me all about Singapore. 'It's in Asia...and it's a uh...first class society if you know what I mean. Like Oslo, but the standard of living is lower so there is more room for shopping.' She went on and on a bit, assuming that I had never heard of the place before (thank goodness she told me that Singapore is in Asia, I thought it was in that country Africa where it is really sunny).

Despite the fact that she assumed ignorance on my part, I was strangely attracted to this woman. She was so genuine and kind and I admired her for some unexplainable reason. We talked for awhile longer and she started to insist that I come to Singapore to visit. She was going to give me her address so that I could come and stay with her. 'I love it when people can come get to know my country,' she explained. Basically I had just met this woman and she was offering to be my hostess in Singapore. Cool.

I really had to get to school so I told her to come by my work tonight. Maybe I will see her, maybe I won't. Maybe I will stay with her for some time in Singapore someday, maybe I will never see her again. Either way, the interaction was as bright and cheery as the sun that greeted my face on the icy walk to school.

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Psoriasis

Hi, my name is Lisa and I have psoriasis.

Gross. But it's true.

Over the course of my life thus far, I have been known to have a few weird-o type skin irregularities from time to time, which everyone in my life has insisted are a direct result of stress. I guess now at least now I have a name for the beast--psoriasis. And yes, stress can trigger it. Before, I was always convinced it was a result of wearing my dirty sports bra or sweat-soaked Underarmour a few too many times without a wash.

Even though we know that stress can trigger it, psoriasis is quite a tricky bugger--no one really knows how you get it, what causes an outbreak and most unfortunately, there is no cure. At least it's not contagious, right? My skin is just all confused: a normal person's skin cells reproduce about once a month. In areas where I have psoriatic outbreaks, my skin cells are working a bit too hard; they are reproducing every three to four hours. I guess if you didn't think I was an overachiever (or a freak show) before, now you are convinced.

Luckily for me, however, my relation with psoriasis is not as intimate or serious as it could be. I guess you could say we are still in the courting stage. There are many different types, but the one that I am plagued with, and the most common type, is called plaque psoriasis. Things that can trigger outbreaks are the weather (thanks Norway), stress, diet, injury or allergies. Even though I am probably prey to all of the above unproven triggers, my outbreaks are very mild and contained. Thank goodness too....Some of things I have come across while educating myself really make me hope that mine remains mild.

Like pictures, for example. See the one above here that I found on the good 'ol world wide web. I am warning you now to NOT search for images of psoriasis...it can be a bit traumatic and I was honestly sick to my stomach looking at some. Search at your own risk, I suppose. There is nothing posted online that is as mild as mine, so I suppose I should just be grateful that I am more fortunate than others. And really, the outbreaks on my body are one thing. Tolerable. Yes of course having small skin irregularities has been an unforeseen and devastating setback to my career as a supermodel, but I can live with that. Scalp psoriasis on the other hand, I have had about enough of! Fortunately I have a LOT of hair so when it is inflamed it just looks like I have dandruff. But come on, no one wants to have dandruff either! I have to use these nasty smelling shampoos to treat my scalp and I am pretty sick of it. I just want my hair to feel and smell nice again. And I need a hair cut really bad. That's not psoriasis' fault, but I figured that while I was bitching I might as well tag that on.

Oh yeah, and to add to the mess, psoriasis can also cause inflammation of the joints--psoriatic arthritis. Apparently, anywhere from ten to thirty percent of people with psoriasis have or will develop psoriatic arthritis which can, by the way, become crippling with age and overuse. Good thing for an athlete to hear eh? When I visited the dermatologist this summer she told me that if you are going to develop p. arthritis it will usually act up about ten years after the patient's first outbreak of psoriasis. This little tidbit of information finally solves the mystery of my knee and wrist problems of the last two years (had my first outbreak around age 12).

To continue with my melodramatic 'tude---I just hope that I don't become a cripple before I have to flee from the Norwegian Immigration Authorites.

Ooh and this just in! Breaking news from the National Psoriasis Foundation: Psoriasis is also associated with other serious health conditions, such as diabetes, heart disease and depression. At least I have something to look forward to when psoriatic arthritis leaves me incapacitated in a wheel chair.

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Waiting for Wednesday with Wesley

Have any of you heard of Matt Wertz? Or do you like his music? My good friend Alana introduced me to him two and a half years ago or so. He is an amazing artist, and this is an amazing song that I filmed from live from The Triple Door in Seattle this summer-- 'Wesley, Why?'

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Godt Nytt År: 2009

Honestly, it hasn't been until today that I have thought to think of all the things that have happened this year:

I froze my ass swimming at Ocean Shores in January.

I played soccer on the beach in California.

I got cast as 'Angry Vagina' in PLU's Vagina Monologues.

I joined up with the 1 in 5 Campaign and emceed an event in The Cave.

I finished my last year of PLU softball.

I watched my first live birth and welcomed another niece into the world.

I volunteered.

I wrote a 20 page paper in Spanish, and graduated from PLU.

I watched one of my best friends from high school get married.

I spent more time in Seattle this past year than I have in my life I would guess...Pride Parade, Mariners Games, Pike Place, etc etc.

I reunited with a bunch of girls I studied with in Spain, spent a great weekend on Fox Island and boated under the Tacoma Narrows.

I hiked around Mt. Rainer, camped in the National Park and checked out Ruby Beach this summer on a great 3 week visit from Lars.

I chopped off 10 inches of my hair and donated it to Pantene's Beautiful Lengths!

I attempted two birthday surprises!

I moved to Norway, started taking Norwegian class and got a new job!

I traveled to Germany with Lars' family!

I spent my first Christmas away from my family and created a lot of new memories, traditions, and friends.

And finally, I lazily rang in the new year with Lars from our apartment balcony.

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XC skiing

Over Christmas, Lars and I had enough free time that we got to break out some cross country skis from the garage and see how I could fare. I had no idea how much different it would feel than the skiing I was used to in the past...

For those of you that are unfamiliar with cross country skiing, it is actually quite different than the downhill skiing I had been almost getting good at when I was about 15 years old. So yet again, any previous experience of mine was a bit off base. ;) Cross country skis are lighter, longer and narrower than downhill skis, and in my opinion they are much harder to control (although this could just be due to a lack of experience). You also use different poles. It is actually much more like walking or hiking--just on snow! Also, compared to downhill skiing, the terrain is relatively flat, but you also go UP hills as well as down. So, all in cross country skiing is a much more practical way to ski...it can not only be used for leisure and exercise but also as a method of transportation!


Also, as you can see above, a cross country ski boot is only attached to the front of the ski binding. The point is, that it is a bit tricky. And with two facts combined (that I haven't been on skis at all since I was 15, and that cross country is a lot different) I was less than graceful in my first attempt. And to be honest, take two wasn't all that pretty either. Lars and I borrowed some old skis from his parents so that we can have them in Hamar. We took advantage of New Year's Day to hit the 'slopes'.

After about a 20 minute drive, we were enjoying Hamar's skiing facilities. The place is called Gåsbu and I expect that Lars and I will be back again soon...maybe even this weekend!!

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Overraskelse!!

Every year Lars has had a get-together at his house with his best buddies from Tynset. It works perfect because everyone is already in the area for Christmas, and his birthday is on the 30th!

This year, however, Lars and I had to go back to Hamar a bit too early for work...which would have meant that Lars couldn't have his regular party with the friends he has grown up with!!--BUT his sister, mom and I planned a surprise party for him on Saturday night! All was going well...I had been planning it for almost three weeks and Lars still hadn't found out...and then, the day of the party we were using up one of Lars' Christmas gift cards and we ran into a friend of the family who blew the cover. At that point we weren't sure if Lars knew or not, but I suspected that he was onto us (because he always figures out everything!).

So he went to the movies with his friend Halvor and us ladies stayed home and prepared the usual elk casserole (which is absolutely delicious). When he came home, he wasn't very surprised but I think he appreciated the effort anyway, and was just happy to have his usual fest!

And even though the surprise was ruined, the party was a heck of a good time. By the time everyone was there, we were about 12-15 people who were ready to have a good time...and so we did!

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