Speechless.

There are few people out there that can really spellbind me with their writing, but I believe Adam Young is one of these selected few. Whenever I read his blog posts I am nothing short of mesmerized. His way of describing his emotions and happenings in his life is nothing short of immaculate. (With the odd typo here and there, however, but with that skill of writing, who cares?!) Reading his posts is almost like diving into his mind and exploring the gorgeous things that are going on inside of it - and what a beautiful mind it is (excuse the movie reference; that was not intended).

He a devout Christian, but this reason for me adoring his writing is far outweighed by his beautifully described musings. He has the ability reserved only a few to not touch on a subject and barely scratch the emotional surface of it, but rather to touch on a subject and hold on to the emotion, the episode, the image, for a much longer time than many others. When you think that all words have been used and the topic has been exhausted, you're suddenly served another platter of delightful collocations, metaphors and other imagery.

This is one of those blogs wherein you're left with a fuzzy feeling in your stomach and a sense of serenity whenever you're done reading one of his posts; especially after having read one of his more profound gems. (Because that's exactly what they are - gems.) It is always so intriguingly satisfying to experience the unfurling of the story he writes about in your head. As if it were a bud slowly opening up and becoming a beautiful flower which you cannot see before you've read the entire post. Color me overly poetic if thou wishest, but I'm truly fascinated by his writing skills. It's almost as if I wish he were to write a novel of some sorts to get all of this indescribably beautiful writing on paper and stuck between two covers.

How refreshingly reassuring it is that there are people like him out there. Guess this indicates that there is, in fact, hope for this poor wretched world of ours. That there is a light - however faint - at the end of the all-too-known tunnel.


Signing off (mesmerized),
Elise

Procrastination

Think I've used that word as a title for a previous blog entry, although I'm not quite that sure. I might be relating this to something else rather than just a mere post.

Things are ok. Gotten good results for 2/3 mandatory assignments. Now trying to write up the final assignment, i.e. the description of my Master's thesis project. But I just can't be bothered at the moment. I've already done some research into articles and studies I can refer to and read up a little on them, but the energy level willingness to do anything just isn't there. In other words, once again I experience the well-known urge to procrastinate.

I'm sure you all know that "procrastination is the enemy of time" (or at least I think that's what my mom usually says), but in a sense there's something quite nice about focusing on something else rather than just your academic passion(s). Just like today, which I intend to make into a "sewing day" wherein I'll be folding pajama pants and... eh... something else. I must admit that this kind of fits with the whole housewife concept of the 50s and 60s. All I need is just a polka-dot dress, an apron, cat-eye glasses and red lipstick, and I'm there. :) And to be honest, at the moment I don't mind either!

Lately I've been totally immersed in this period (post-Baseballs concert syndrome, a.k.a. PBC syndrome). Not only did this period involve the reconstruction of the gut-wrenchingly immense damages after WWII, but everybody just seemed to have such a happy-go-lucky attitude to life, perhaps to make amends for the bleak war years. And then at the end of the 1960s the world lost its innocence; or should I say that that the youth lost its innocence. We were finally forced to see the world as it is and we were completely disgusted by what we saw. Again. But this time it was not caused by a deranged madman as had happened just 20 years prior to this time. It was caused by a supposedly helpful, generous, good and decent world power.* And perhaps as a consequence of this (including several other factors, obv.), the youth had a fervent need to escape from their lives. Enter hallucinogenic drugs, psychedelia and Oriental religions to find something to cling to in the midst of all the pessimism and disappointment of life.

Looking at footage from the infamous Woodstock music festival of '69 I find I laugh out loud when I hear their opinions on several issues. The naiveté of people back in those days is nothing short of risible. They seem so lost; damsels in distress - even the guys. If they really were fitting representatives of the youth culture back in those days, let's just say that the evolution from that until how we are today is nothing short of impressive (and fortunate, to say the least).

Anyway, these are just random thoughts not to be taken seriously (that is, if the reader may be offended of these general musings). Now, to ramble off to watch James Bond... One of those classic ones... :)

Signing off (sashaying over to telly),
Elise

------------------------------------

*Mind you, I do not adhere to those people who generally despise the US. Sure, the whole issue with the US monitoring/supervising areas outside their embassies in Norway, Denmark and Sweden is extremely frowned upon. At the moment, at least, media focus has been on this, which in turn has generated a general sense of disdain. However, if we look at the more general picture, if it hadn't been for their intervention in several global conflicts fewer of them would have been resolved. Color me naive if you wish, but if you have the means to help others, by all means do so - but an elaboration on this will be reserved for a future post.

*awkward silence*

Men are confusing. I'm sure they think the same way about us, though.

A couple of months ago the electricity was all out in our building and I'd ventured out in the hallway, as I heard some other people talking there. I talked to one of my neighbors there and we sort of had the same interests and shared the same kind of randomness. He was interested in watching "Monty Python and the Holy Grail", so I lent him my DVD. He also asked me if he could come over some day for a cup of tea or something, so I said "Yeah, sure" and left it at that. This was in September. Now it's November and I've only just now gotten back my DVD and still no sign of that coffee or tea thing. You who know me reasonably well, know that I am an old-fashioned gal. In other words, I strongly believe that the guy should make the first move instead of me, be it in terms of a friendship - as was this case - or something "more substantial", if you will. Not a peep from his part for over 2 months. I even went as far as to ring his doorbell several times (when I hadn't gotten my DVD back). He himself had asked me to do so, but there was no answer whatsoever. I even left plucked up the courage to stick a post-it note yesterday on his front door to ask him if there was supposed to be any get-together. The note's still hanging there and I haven't heard a peep from him. As in so many times before, there appears to be this infamous awkwardness hovering between our front doors when it comes to getting in touch with each other.

This is something totally beyond me. The few times we'd talked together, he himself expressed the ridiculousness of not getting in touch, as we only live 5 steps from each other. Yet he still doesn't get in touch, at least as far as I know. So my question is: Why does it have to be so difficult to converse with members of the other sex? Why should it be so difficult to initiate a strictly platonic friendship with a guy? Why is there such an insane amount of awkwardness in this process? Is there anything that can be done at all to prevent or remove any kind of tension? Again, why is this process so difficult?! I mean, I can talk to them and strike up some excellent conversations - there's no problem in that department - but ultimately it seems as if there's always this kind of strange cloddishness in the air between us. And that's what bugs the living daylights out of me.

Furthermore, if he didn't mean what he'd said or if he'd changed his mind during these past few months, it would be nice to actually be informed about this instead of leaving it all hanging out there like a dangling participle. If he doesn't want a friendship, that's entirely fine by me, but I'd appreciate being informed instead of just sitting there wondering if it was something I'd said. Heck, I stuck a freakin' post-it note to his door. If he doesn't want to knock on my door and tell it to me straight, he could at least have had the decency to respond through another post-it note. Just saying. Bah.


Signing off (inelegantly),
Elise


(Edit: He answered my post-it note and showed up.)

The missing link (pun intended)

Just finished watching "The Linda McCartney Story" (again). I must say it's quite amazing, really, to see two people who have such an incredible connection. I mean, you don't need a movie to establish the fact that Paul and Linda had one incredible relationship and such an immensely beautiful love for one another (and for their children, for that matter), but watching interviews and movies of this sort kinda makes it all the more... well, alive, in a sense. I mean, they were indeed soul mates and best friends; the latter especially being the case after the Beatles broke up and Paul was at rock bottom. They were so similar in so many ways: idealists, passionate animal rights activists, vegetarians (obv.), artists in their own right and I bet great parents to their kids as well. Theirs is a relationship I truly admire. Obviously besides that of my parents, which is the epitome of all successful and tightly-knit marriages of my knowledge (of course I'm biased).

I love watching people and sensing such a connection between them. A platonic connection is one thing, but this is a completely different ballgame. Sensing this kind of unified vibe from them, yet not bordering over to the tacky and lovey-dovey mush, now that's nothing short of awesome. And reassuring, mind you. Reassuring in the sense that there is hope for mankind.

I have a tendency to fluctuate a bit when it comes to watching the news. Sometimes I simply have to watch it like there's no other option, but other times (like these past few days) I simply can't stand it. There's too much negative energy being released in this world. If it isn't a coverage on war and/or a conflict involving physical violence, then there's rape, mugging, corruption, blackmail and insincerity. I tell you, there's too much of this crap. Way too much.

Those are the times when I'm reminded of something Elizabeth Bennet once said (*sigh* P&P again...): "The more I see of the world, the more I am dissatisfied with it; and every day confirms my belief of the inconsistency of all human characters, and of the little dependence that can be placed on the appearance of either merit or sense." *scoffs* You and me both.

Yes, I realize I do sound like some old hippie when I say all of this, but I really lose faith in humanity sometimes. Just like in times like these. Ergo we need to focus on all the good stuff; acknowledge the bad stuff happening and try to do something about it, but not let it get to our heads. Or else we'll all go mental. So focus on the little things; even the tiniest specks of goodness that can brighten up your day whenever you feel like there's no hope in the world. In a larger scale, perhaps look at the people you admire and try to change your life accordingly to -- pardon the cliché -- make the world a better place in your own little way.

Ok. Rambling again. Not sure if that many people out there will be bothered reading yet another long sequence of nonsense, but just needed to get this out. Bet several of you readers know what I'm talking about.

Watching this movie kinda made me a little envious of the relationship that Paul and Linda had. My initial reaction, now as after the first few times I'd watched this movie, was one of sympathy for Paul, really. Looking at how his life has been after his wife died, you kinda start thinking that these women he's been seeing are sort of thought to be compensations for Linda. They're not at all immaculate, but at least he might believe that they show a small reflection of his late wife. Hence why he clings to them. However, the most overriding reason would probably be that he can't stand feeling alone. Now that his kids have all grown up, many of which having families of their own, he is searching for another "post-soul-mate" lifelong companion again. Hence why he remarries. Then when the relationship starts getting a bit iffy, he/she/they file for divorce and he's left alone again. And continues searching. I'm probably not the only one who's got this theory.

Anyway. A slight digression there. As I said, I kind of envy the relationship Linda and Paul had. This was the following reaction I had. Missing having that connection with someone. Having one with your parents, friends, and relatives is one thing, but sometimes you kinda wonder how you're going to turn out in the end. I am a firm believer in that there's one person out there who's meant for you. I believe that God's plan for us is to give us a series of individual challenges here on Earth and when we pass a certain number or kind of them, we may be entitled to get to know this person with whom we're going to spend the remainder of our lives here on Earth -- and meet more challenges; this time together. Either that, or be a spinster/bachelor (cf. in my case, be the "weird cat lady"), or serve Him. Whatever He chooses.

I have my moments wherein I start thinking about where my "mystery man" is, my "missing link", if you will; if he's wondering where I am, what he's doing, or even if he exists. Or if he does exist, if he ever wonders if I exist. I eventually reason out that if he does exist, we already have a special subliminal subconscious connection; that our souls communicate with each other even though we ourselves are unaware of the other's existence or response. Cute thought? Probably. Naive? Not in my mind, it ain't. As most of us already know, there are more things between Heaven and Earth, so why should not this be one of them? We are still quite unaware of the mechanisms of the stirrings of the soul, so again, why not? I've already gotten way past the phase wherein I was simply in love with being in love. It's a long process, but I've started to see past that now and really focus on the inherent connection.

So yeah, I'm still constructing my future at the moment and I'm still waiting per se, but I've asked Him (and him) that he not enter into my life just yet. Not until everything is settled. This thing has to be put on hold at the moment. And if I'm not wrong, he probably feels the same way, too. It's all up to what He wants, though. I'm kind of excited to find out.

Anyway, enough rambling, more sleep. "But before we go" (Kermit the frog revisited), I thought I'd share one of my all-time favorite songs with you -- coincidentally being Paul's homage to his soul mate.





Signing off,
Elise

So... uh... long time...

You know you haven't been visiting/writing in your blog for a long time when you forget you have an unmoderated comment pending in your comment inbox. Huh.

Anyway, it's been a while since I've been able to really just sit down and post something random here. Guess both me and my blog self have really been on a hiatus for quite some time.

I do get times wherein I just want to write something on this humble pink blog, but nothing seems to really come out the way I want it to. Am I losing my knack at it? Or have I just subconsciously abandoned it? Hm. A question that will most likely remain a mystery.

Or, well, maybe not.

Over these past couple of years, I've been feeling somewhat confined in terms of what I should write both here as well as on Facebook and Twitter. I guess for some reason that the whole idea of publishing things for the whole world to see had become somewhat intimidating for me through these years. Consequently I haven't allowed myself to really let go and write about all the things I really want to write about. I've feared public scrutiny (in more ways than simply through this blog, Facebook and Twitter, mind you), which in turn has led me to become more insecure as a person. Overly careful, some might coin this; or even neurotic. For those of you who really know me, you may perhaps know what I'm talking about, and if you don't -- well, sometimes when I may seem quite calm, inside there might be utter chaos.

This is what I want to do something about, really. Last night I realized this; I had a small equivalent of an epiphany, if you like. What I need to do is really just to pucker up and stand up for myself. It may sound clichéd, but last night the message really came through to me. So yeah, it really dawned on me how influential social acceptance has been in my life up to now. Perhaps it's time to break with some of this. Refrain from worrying about what other people might think of what I believe in and do and just not give a rat's ass about it.

But it's funny, though, to think about how influential other people's regard for you have on yourself. I believe other people influence us more than we are even aware of. I guess mankind is quite pack-oriented. We have the classic dominant personae in our society - both considering society at large as well as in smaller communities, even groups of friends - and we have those that are more, shall we say, subordinate; the people who are guided by the dominant parties and who do little to exert power or influence, seeing as they consider themselves to be a weaker element in the group anyway. Then there are the people inbetween, who are influential to the dominant parties, yet still subordinate per se. I see this division in all kinds of settings, especially in group settings like our group of friends, colleagues, classrooms, even in my own family, though the distribution of these three might vary from group to group.

Ok, this may sound quite tedious to you, but it was quite an eye-opener to me, really.

Anyway, better dash. Off to Bedfordshire soon, just need to pray the rosary first and we'll see if I'll be bothered to stay up any further tonight. :-)



Signing off,
Elise

Right.

And so the student finally became a teacher. A strange experience, I have to say, but nonetheless quite satisfying; especially seeing as this had been my dream since more or less... err... I first heard my mom tell me stories about her own teaching experiences when she was one. It all really sounded so much fun -- a lot of hard work, mind you, but fun. I guess topping this off with low pay (at least as far as Norway is concerned) will give you even less of a reason to become a teacher. However, what influenced me at the end of the day was not only Mom, but also the teachers that I've had over the years since Elementary up to this day. Many of these people had this kind of twinkle in their eyes, this kind of glow while they taught us. They were really "in to" the subjects they were teaching and had this vigorous enthusiasm that rubbed off on all of us -- at least as far as yours truly is concerned. That and the willingness to listen to us pupils/students to better their classes and adapt their skills to better suit our own skills and personal characteristics. All of this is what I admire in these people. All of this has influenced my decisions in life. All of this fueled the fire, if you like.

My parents have also been a huge influence on me. They have always been influential and supportive of me in whatever decision I've had to make in life. Influential in the sense that I've always listened to them when they told me about their experiences in life and their advice based on that and their perception of me. This may perhaps sound a tad controversial to some, but for me this has been more of a positive influence rather than a means of "brainwashing" me into becoming what they want me to be. (There is a difference. :-)) Consequently my parents have also been supportive in the sense that they have let me evolve into my own person, if you will.

Um, I don't really know why I write this here, but I guess I just wanted to get this down on... err... pixels? Yeah, that works.

Signing off (@ work, for now),
Elise

Well done, Germany!

Excellent song! Got me dancing around the room for ages! Still dancing in my head! It's about time they won!



Britain came in last? IS THAT EVEN HUMANLY POSSIBLE?! Apparently yes, when you do a Cliff Richard 80s remake of "We Don't Talk Anymore" with backup singers who sing slightly off key more than once, just enough to be annoying. *snorts, points and laughs disdainfully* Guess that's what you'll get when you get a below-par Waterman production. His songs used to be better.

Meanwhile, I'm impressed by how well-organized it all was. Great opening sequence, great English grammar (with a few glitches here and there, but nothing worth commenting on). Over all the contestants were great. Competition was tough this year; THANK GOD the Eurotrash stuff was almost wiped out! For some reason Greece still seems to cling to this whole testosterone-laden fusion/crossover concept. Face it, guys, it's getting OLD. In fact, it IS already old. Lay it off, it's annoying.

As for Norway, I knew from the start that we'd get a low score. Heck, I'd even go as far as to say we were asking for yet another zero. Us climbing up to 20th was really just a small comfort. Why do we always seem to go for cheesy sugar-coated ballads? Don't get me wrong, he's got a great voice; it's just that apart from a few welcomed deviations, we've always gone for ballads. How about something more up-tempo? A ditsy and dorky sound and cute lyrics like the German entry this year? Like say, in the style of Cheezy Keys a couple of years ago? Now that one I liked!

Meanwhile, it was interesting to see how so many countries had chosen a Rybak-related strategy this year, either by hiring Norwegian songwriters, musicians or even lead singers (Georgia, Cyprus and Romania, respectively). That and the all-too-predictable fiddler in the background. Strategic, but perhaps a little passé.

And the whole lung-power and/or vocal acrobatics hoedown given by more than one country was... well, needless to say an essential criteria to be included, although it in some cases was a little over the top.

However, kudos to Denmark, Romania, Cyprus, France (Bob Sinclar flashback!!!) and not to mention Germany for great contributions this year. Didrik did well, despite some glitches at the start of the song. Chill factor? Check. Bettered choreography? Check. Backup singers instead of violinists pretending to play? Check. (Much better!) Bettered diction? Check. (Though I still get somewhat unwanted images in my head whenever he sings "My love is never gone; I feel it rise again (hmm...). Through it all, now my heart (are you sure that's what you're referring to?) is yours". Somewhat unwanted images, not necessarily completely unwanted, yaknowumsayin'.)

Over all, I'm satisfied with this year. Awesome selection of songs and great organization. Special effects were more than impressive and - perhaps as a nod to Bobbysocks - a pink (red) carpet. Nice touch. Generally good British diction from the emcees who were funny at times without being fake (e.g. Erik Solbakken's gags, not to mention Atle Antonsen! I was laughing my head off when I saw him sitting there!). V. g. indeed. I'm impressed.

Let's see how Germany does it next year... Aaaand let's see if we can come up with something else than a ballad. (Mind you, I don't have anything against ballads, it's just that from a competitive p.o.v. they have never really done it for us in general. So there. Competitive side right at'cha.)

Anyway, knackered. Tired. Hitting books tomorrow for last day before getting to know topic for oral exam. Gah. I'm not ready for this yet. Give me 2-3 more days to get the topics straight before I get the topic... *drained*


Signing off (-.-),
Elise

Spreading the word!

Seriously, how cool aren't these guys?!



Another one for good measure...


Not to mention...


And...


Pompadours, shaking hips and pelvises and rockabilly have never had a better comeback than this! Note to self: Must get me a poodle skirt, bobby socks and polka-dotted silk scarf. First and foremost the poodle skirt.


Signing off (doing the twist and mashed potato),
Elise

Pensative.

Hm. Ever experienced one of those moments where you seem to be thoughtful, but there's nothing on your mind? This, I fear, is one of those moments. I guess this has to be due to me having millions of things to think about these past couple of weeks. My brain just doesn't feel like concentrating on anything at the moment, so it just pretends. Weird.

Anyway, just thought I'd share a random thought.


Signing off,
Elise

How awesome is this?!

If only to be able to take part in something like this!


Signing off,
Elise

Part of today's second reading.

There are different kinds of gifts, but the same Spirit. There are different kinds of service, but the same Lord. There are different kinds of working, but the same God works all of them in all men.

(1 Corinthians: 4-6)

To be honest, I was happily astonished to find this written in the Bible. I believe this applies to all religions, really; not just the Jewish, Muslim, Christian and other monotheistic faiths out there. We are all one.

A fascinating thought. (And yes, with a hippie-ish tinge to it, I might add. ;-))

Signing off,

Elise

A new year, a new decade, a new era -- and a new haircut.

This past decade has seen me grow a lot as a person. God has granted me so many experiences over the years, experiences that have made me change my perception of so many things. All kinds of aspects in life, really. There is one particular episode that stands out which really made me come face to face with the fleeting nature of life itself. It has definitely made me see things from another perspective and made me closer to God. I have also realized that as a Catholic I am not alone. I mean, really realized. And it's a good feeling. Singularity can be fulfilling in many respects -- it can make you grow as a human -- but man is also a sociable creature and most of us would go nuts if we were to be cut off from society indefinitely.

I have also experienced the fleeting nature of human relationships, be it friendships or more intimate relationships. This entails not only me experiencing this myself, but also observing the people around me and their individual trials and tribulations. That in itself is a great experience. I find myself agreeing somewhat with Mary Bennet here when she says (something like the following): "I find that the rewards of observation and reflection are much greater [than dancing in a ball]." Nonetheless, dancing is great fun as well as observing. All depending on my mood, that is.

I also remember realizing at one point that I am much like cats in my personality. Many times I have caught myself in the act of getting tired of doing something, even after just 10-15 minutes. Even when playing with kids I find I lack patience (although I love 'em -- the things they say and the way they think!). I may also get a sudden urge to blog, and then after a couple of minutes, suddenly that urge is gone and I can't be "bovvered" (as a very wise teenager used to say). But generally I find myself committed to most of the goals that I've set for myself. I dare say the most important things regarding my future, my life and the most important people in it are those parts that I commit to 100%. Of course there may be some slight hiccups here and there, but the willingness is, has been and always will be there. This alongside the tendency to contemplate.

And then there's the fun factor. Life is, as we all know, not a cakewalk, but just add a bit of spice and/or sugar, and you get a whole different experience of it all. It sort of lets you dance through it (something Pete Townshend once said when referring to music). But dancing through life hinders you from seeing your surroundings in their entirety, which we need to do increasingly more as we grow up. This is the time when we slowly begin to peer out of that bubble that used to protect us and start seeing that things are in fact not as they seem. In fact, we start seeing the complexity of truth and we start wondering what this implies to our own perception of the world. What is truth? Does it exist at all?

This realization in reaction to our bubble bursting makes us want to create our own lines of defense. A wall. Even though we are surrounded by people all the time, ultimately life has to be lived only by ourselves. So we build a wall to protect ourselves from the harsh environment. A wall influenced by our experience. A wall with a kind of filtrating system where we let only certain things and a certain amount of them to enter into our lives. As we gain more knowledge we decide whether or not to fill those holes in our wall. A fascinating process, I have to say -- although many times quite frustrating and annoying. Still, as I said earlier, life is not a cakewalk. It never was. But we have our guides and a hope and a conviction that in the end all will sort itself out.

Hm. I don't know if this makes sense. At least it makes sense to me. It might to some other people as well.

In other news, I want a white room such as this when I get my own place. And if I end up living in a mansion, I want another room filled with pianos, including a white one -- and another one with cow spots on it. Just a thought.

Signing off (hopeful),

Elise