Autumn isn’t the pillow-making season

I wish I was feeling inspired to blog. Like, really.. just.. getting there. Cause yeah, I’d like to just.. get there. Oh Aila, how extremely good you are at describing things.

Anyhow. Anybow. Anysheep. I’m gonna go and make a pillow. I miss autumn a little. Picture. Of me and Autumn. Autumn is really a pretty name. I don’t think I would’ve called my maybe-one-day-to-exist kid that, since it’s not really a name you can pronounce in norwegian and what the hell am I doing, kids aren’t even like really a part of my plan yet, and hell, I don’t really have that much of a plan and pillow needs making okay bye.

Run, run, run, you can ruuuuunnnn!!!

What is up with my views going skyhigh when I don’t blog, and when I do blog, there’s only a few? You weirdoes. Internet is a weirdo. HOHO, take that, you Internet!!!

Here you have a picture of my cat. Doing the evil look. Or maybe she’s trying to smile.

Today I went jogging. Because I just thought “Hey Aila, what about going outside in the nice whether for a run? That should be fun!”

15 minutes later. “How could I not remember how horrible this is?! God, I’m sweating so much (I have a slight phobia for my own sweat). And it’s so hard to breath. I think I’m just gonna lie down and die.”

15 minutes later. Again. “Wow, talk about being a dramaqueen, this isn’t a problem at all!”

One or two minutes later. “Okey, need to breath. I could kill for some water right now. WOW, this is even more horrible than I imagined. UGH, sweat!! Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh.”

On my walk back home. “I don’t understand why I thought that was a problem. I feel absolutely great!”

Standing in front of the bathroom mirror. “Christ. I’m red. Like. RED. Wow. Okey, I’m just gonna cool down and take a shower. It’s okay.”

The doorbell rings. “THE DOORBELL RINGS! Okay, I could just pretend that I’m not at home. But it’s probably our neighbor. That heard me come in. Fuck. I don’t want to answer the door like this.”

Our neighbor speaks. I answer. She has some dvd’s she’d like to return to us. I say I was just about to go into the shower. I realise it’s really stupid to ask her to leave the dvd’s outside our door. So I open. And it wasn’t a big deal. She just asked if I had gone for a run. (HEHEHEHE, it rhymes! RHYYYYYMEES!!!!!!1!!)

I’ll stop with the italic now. To be honest, I’m confusing myself with where to use the italic, and where not to use it. I stared at the last paragraph for like 5 minutes, trying to decide. I decided on italic. If you’re like blind, and couldn’t tell.

OKEY BYEE!! I’m gonna go watch a danish crime-show called Forbrytelsen. Translated it would be something like The Crime. I know, original. But it’s really good.

PS: The title is some lyrics from a song I wrote like.. three years ago. It’s really catchy. It goes like this:

“Run, run, you can run! Run, run, you can run! Run, run, you can run! Run, run, from everything that’s gooooooo-oone.”

And that’s actually all I ever wrote for that song. I know. Why would you run from something that’s already gone? It’s really more of a melodic song. Orrrr… It’s really more of a stupid song. But it is catchy! Because.. likee… there aren’t enough really stupid, but catchy songs out there.

I said bye too long ago. Here, I’ll give you a wave!

Yeah. Yeah it is crazy-Aila-who-have-just-taken-a-run-and-is-red-cause-she-sometimes-forgets-how-not-in-shape-she-is-and-runs-way-too-fast-for-someone-who-is-not-in-shape.

The Tale of the Great Grandmother

Today I went on a little trip with my sister and my mum. We went to a town called Lillehammer, which lies about two hours on train from Oslo. Reason: We were going to visit my 99 year old great grandmother. I mean, nintyfuckingnine! That’s pretty amazing. And she’s so nice as well, and smart and she doesn’t even use a wheelchair. Her hearing is almost gone, and she can’t see too much, but her mind is all clear. It’s pretty awesome. If I ever get old, I hope I can get old that way.

In 1994, when I was all of two years old, Norway held the Winter Olympics in Lillehammer. It might be Norway’s proudest moment.

We were at her nursing home, and had just bought some icecreams (watermelon for the vegan) and were sitting outside. My GGM (oh hell to the yes) was a little chilly, so I offered to go grab her a jacket in her room. So I went to grab her jacket in her room. I tried to open the door, but naively thought that when it didn’t open on the first, weak push, it was of course locked.

So I went back to ask for her key, and she said she didn’t have one, and I said (or more screamed really, cause she can’t hear that good) that that couldn’t be right, cause the door was locked. And then she just started to laugh. Like, really laugh, and said that the door wasn’t locked, as if that would be the stupidest thing to think ever.

And then I went back and pushed open the door and got her her jacket. And then this male-nurse-boy-cute-guy went by, and he knew my great grandmother, so they chatted a little. And then she told him who I was, and asked “Don’t you think she’s a tall and slim nice girl?” And then I wanted to die. Just kidding. It was really funny actually, he was like “Uhm, yeah, nice to meet you,” and went on rolling an old man to the cafeteria in his wheelchair. I live on that kind of awkwardness.

I look grumpy. But I have nice clothes on. And different hair. Old picture.

So, a good day. I also got to go to this amazing secondhand store in town there, one whom my GGM had recommended me. And I bought an amazing wool cardigan in my favourite green, and a oh-so-pretty necklace and a purse. Pictures. I can’t get myself to bother with that right now. I really have to sleep. I got up earlier than on a freakin’ schoolday to reach that damned train to Lillehammer. Night.