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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