New crib!

After living here officially for well over a week now, it's time to properly present my new place. Finally gotten around to tidy up the place, and gotten a few posters and such up. More pictures at Facebook!

The guys have moved in, too...

And it continues...

A while ago I wrote about my new audiophilism (?), and the purchase and arrival of my turntable. Now, some of the vinyl has finally started to show up! Some I've bought at online auctions rather cheap, some are reissues (like construction time and Velvet Underground), and a few of those I found in my own basement. It's not much, but even Bill Gates started somewhere...

And the collection grows.

Harsh realization

I just uploaded some new pictures of myself, and came to a sudden realization. I probably look like one of the following:

A) The lost and very secret love child of Martin Gore and some unnamed hobbit girl, who, not knowing of her parentage went and ahead and became a Depeche fan with a tendency to have cold ears like her dad. (Disturbing image, innit?)

or...

B) a fanatical hobbit who went bonkers in Depeche's merchandise store, and then went snuck off backstage (ssssneaky hobbitsesss...)to nick Martin Gores hat for good measure (and being a true fanatical).


In any case, I'm a weird looking thing. But not cold on her ears.

Old flames...

I'm blowing life into an old crush by listening to The Cure these days, despite being less emo than I've been for years. In any case I think The Cure have been wrongly labelled as emo (or, which is more likely, the "emo" label has been ruined by 14 year old self abusing angstridden teenagers). I, for one, hear a lot of love, hope and joy for life in The Cure's songs. This one, "The Only One", I stumbled over last night, and I absolutely love the lyrics in all it happy, naive kinkyness.

(The Cure and (I suspect a slightly intoxicated) Martin Gore <3>

Oh I love oh I love oh I love
What you do to my head
When you pull me upstairs
And you push me to bed
Oh I love what you do to my head
It's a mess up there
Oh I love oh I love oh I love
What you do to my heart
When you push me back down
And then pull me apart
Oh I love what you do to my heart
It's the best oh yeah!

Oh I love oh I love oh I love
What you do to my lips
When you suck me inside
And you blow me a kiss
Oh I love what you do to my lips
It's so sweet in there
Oh I love oh I love oh I love
What you do to my hips
When you blow me outside
And then suck me like this
Oh I love what you do to my hips
It's the beat oh yeah!

You're the only one I cry for
The only one I try to please
You're the only one I sigh for
The only one I die to squeeze

And it gets better every day I play
With you
It's such a scream
Yeah it gets meta every day I say
With you
It's so extreme
Yeah it gets wetter every day I stay
With you it's like a dream

Oh I love oh I love oh I love
What you do to my skin
When you slip me on
And slide me in
Oh I love what you do to my skin
It's a blush on there
Oh I love oh I love oh I love
What you do to my bones
When you slide me off
And slip me home
Oh I love what you do to my bones
It's the crush oh yeah!

You're the only one I cry for
The only one I try to please
You're the only one I sigh for
The only one I die to squeeze

And it gets hazier every way I sway with you
It's such a scream
Yeah it gets mazier every play I say with you
It's so extreme
Yeah it gets crazier every day I stay
With you it's like a dream

Now, off to find someone who can provide this feeling. Anyone?

It's official - I'm a nurse student

I promised a few people this wouldn't happen, but lately so much has happened I haven't blogged for a while.

Firstly, I am done moving in, and love my apartment! I have tonnes of space, it's quiet here but not too far away from the centre of the city, and I have a bathroom that was renovated this summer. Will post some pictures when I've tidied up properly, this first week has been stressful and it already looks like I've lived here for months!

Secondly, and maybe more importantly - I've started school! We officially started Tuesday, but this week has mainly consisted of introductions, getting to know people and social activities, meaning lots of partying for many of us. I've done my fair share, and been way beyond "slightly intoxicated" three times this week. And I've even met a few nice fellow students!

On Thursday the second year nurse students arranged a "baptism" for us first years, officially baptizing us as nurse students and nurses to be. How? "Get your socks and shoes off, clamber into a river and get a bucket of water down your neck" (see illsutration). Silly, but a fun thing to have done.

As for the studying, I have already started all though proper lectures haven't - and I am rather proud of myself. The past year or so, and especially this summer, I've been absolutely terrified of what was to come: starting school again, moving, studying, trying to learn something. Upon hearing that our first exam in microbiology is held as soon as October 5th, my first thought was to just run from the place screaming for mummy. Luckily, I didn't (first impressions and all that), but went and bought the microbiology book, and started reading! Am soon through the first couple of chapters, and it actually seems to stick, but even more importantly - I seem to understand most of it. And, as a bonus, it's sort of interesting to learn about microbes, bacteria, virus and fungi. Disgusting and enough to make you real paranoid about washing your hands, but interesting.

I promise - moving and starting to study won't cause me to stop blogging. I might be a bit slower, that's all. Will blog more about other... stuff, later this week.

Blood, sweat and...

Today has been my second day of moving, and I had requisitioned two trailers, two cars, one dad and one brother for the occasion. I'm a hoarder, I admit, I get obsessive over stuff, and since I've lived by myself since I was 16 I have accumulated a lot of stuff over the years - books, DVD's, CD's, knick knacks and furniture. This time around I've also bought myself a rather big sofa bed, which was just another addition to the huge b ookshelf, the TV, the table and everything else that had to be moved. Safe to say I am pretty beat, but in more than one respect. Being the complete and utter numpty that I am, I am no stranger to doing clumsy things, I knock things over (including myself) all the time, and I break a lot of stuff, but I rarely hurt myself. Today just wasn't my day, however. It all started off with me carrying something that managed to make a bad scrape on my chest, and as I was walking down the last step to get something from the car my right foot decided to do something completely different from what the rest of my body had planned, resulting in me toppling over and planting two knees and two palms on the asphalt. The left knee and right palm broke the fall for me, with bloody results. Three incidents of bleeding in the space of a couple of hours, not bad! Safe to say I left the rest of the heavy lifting and the building of my new TV desk over to my brother and father - when your day starts off like that you better take a hint and just sit the hell down and keep still before you get seriously injured. And I've had enough surgery for a while, thanks.

It's here!

Today I got a truly wonderful piece of mail which made me squeal with joy - and scare my dad :)

Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy!

Cardboard boxes full of goodies. And a very curious dog.

Just had another frantic un-wrapping session on my livingroom floor, after picking up both my new turntable AND a shipment from a norwegian record store containing many of the Depeche remastered re-issues of old albums, and my first vinyl record! It was only fitting that the first one I got to hold in my hand was Smashing Pumpkins - Siamese Dream, an album that has meant a lot to me, shaped me and the way I listen to music. And it's one of the very rare albums I don't get sick of, I can pick it up after a few months and I can fall in love with it all over again. And the great thing about all of this is that I didn't pay much for it - the cd's were €6,70 each, the vinyl about €15 and the turntable came to about €70! Now, enough blogging, it's moving day!

And the collection grows...

My passion - for music

"I am not passionate about anything other than music. I bore my friends to death with music! I often invite friends to come and stay with me, and I get drunk and I play them every one of my favourite records. At the end of the night, everybody is crawling into bed, and I’m still left saying, 'But you have to listen to this one!'

This might as well have been something I could've said - it sounds just like me! If someone asks me about music, things I like, if I can suggest something that sounds this way or that, I tend to go overboard. And when I'm drunk I usually get started without having to be asked questions at all.

Sometimes I'm baffled that I didn't go into music in some form or another; performing music, making it, editing it, music management, something, anything. I have admittedly entertained the idea a lot over the years, but always been deterred by the uncertainty of it all. What's the chance of me getting into the music business anyway? Where do you even start? Wether you work as a songwriter, am a member of a band, a manager or a roadie on some tour, there aren't any step-by-step plans to follow to become successful, even to get a shoe-in, it often seems to come down to either luck or being at the right place at the right time. "Start making the tea, and you might be in the band."

You see, I know myself well enough to admit that I never could be an artist of any kind - I love playing music, I miss playing the piano and want to get better with a guitar, but I'm just not creative enough to come up with original ideas. Nor am I diplomatic, pushy or confident enough to become a manager - sure, it's OK if you're a manager for a made band, but being a manager for a band trying to make it? Gods, no. But being a mixer/editor seems like a really interesting job, being given ideas which I can help shape into something. And I would probably give up my dog, my firstborn and my soul to be a roadie for Depeche Mode. Being a roadie for any kind of band would in any case be one hell of a way to travel around and see the world, besides: I'm a tinkerer and can definitely see myself surrounded by tons of cables, amps and electronic equipment. Oh, the dreams...

I would hazard a guess that becoming a musician means you have to be committed, good at what you do, devoted, lucky and a bit mad. I have infinite respect, and in some cases some envy, for musicians and bands, people who dared to risk a lot, in some cases everything, and devote their life to music, and made it. Me, I'm a coward, I'll admit, and will have to settle for being a music lover and periodic fanatic. But, if my attempts at becoming a nurse fails (which I sincerely hope it won't), I'm going to take a huge leap of faith and do a bachelor in music production.

Who's quote is it? Martin Gore, of course. What I wouldn't give for a day and a night with that bloke - just to see if he's the kind of guy he seems he is, or I think he is, in any case. Maybe I would discover I'm a horrible judge of character. Or maybe I'd make a cup of tea and be made a roadie.

Note to self

Remember this combo:

• Pineapple, mango and banana chunks
• Rice milk - vanilla flavor
• Pineapple juice
• Dash of honey
• 1 ts coconut oil

Looks horrible and sort of gooey, tastes like heaven on a summer day. NOM!

Audiophile

When I was 15-16, I had a boyfriend whose father was what I'd call an audiophile and a true music lover. He had long hair and a scruffy beard, worshipped Grateful Dead, the Allman Brothers band and all things called southern rock, had an entire wall covered in shelves with vinyl and a rather huge hi-fi stereo that probably cost more than everything I own put together. I loved the guy, and called him Papa Bear, and I think he liked me, mainly because I bought him a psychedelig poster of Jerry Garcia that promptly ended up on the wall of his little music corner. And he introduced me to the world of audiophiles - those who has to have the best sound equipment, the best sound quality, and absolute, positively HAS to have everything on vinyl. Know the type?

Now, music has plays a huge part in my life (no pun intended), more so in mine than in many others I suspect, but I've never really been into the whole sound quiality thing. As long as both the left and right headphone is working, and I can hear the music, it's usually fine by me. But lately, something has changed. It all started with a mate (oh how I love to blame this mate) who got a hold of some FLAC-files. I've never even thought about the difference between FLAC's and MP3s, but thought I'd give it a go. But then I realised I had crappy headphones, and had to buy a new pair of those, too. As I've described before, the difference is huge, and the other night as I couldn't sleep due to my previously explained health problem, I listened to lots of Depeche (of course, what else) FLAC-files, with the headphones, and sounds came at me from places I've never even noticed before. That's when I turned over to the dark side and became one of them. The Audiophiles. The very minority that which I've ignored, scoffed at, even laughed.

And the result of all this? I've bought a turntable. And a cable with gold plated RCA connectors (not as expensive as it sounds, I might add.) This doesn't exactly make me a hardcore audiophile, I bought a cheap turntable (about 70 quid), and my headphones are also rather cheap (about 45-50 quid), but for me they're serious upgrades. And I've rifled through some of the vinyl I knew was hidden downstars, not touching the holy grail which is my sisters MJ collection, but I did find a few other things I am going to nick; some old Elvis records, and one of Edith Piaf! And, of course, I went ahead and bought a few online - and I won't give you a penny for guessing what it is. That's how I start my vinyl collection - Elvis, Edith Piaf and 11 albums of Depeche Mode. Now to find the nearest vintage/vinyl store... It was about I took this music addiction of mine sort of seriously, no?

Shake the disease

Earlier this morning I came back from a night at the hospital. And no, not that cancer hospital, but a normal one, and I wasn't there for anyone else, but for myself. Why? Well, I had a spot of surgery.

Well, it's a rather unpleasant story. I managed to get something called bartholinitis. If you have a morbid curiosity, go look it up, but I take no responsibility for what you may see or read if you do so. In short it's an inflammation of a gland in my.. uhm, private area, va-jay-jay, call it what you like, and normally these things take care of themselves. But of course not so in my case - last weekend pain and swelling ensued, and I got a doctors appointment, thinking I'd get some antibiotics and it's all go away. But no. The doctor sent me to the hospital to see another doctor, and she promptly told me that I had an inflammation abscess and they had to open it up and get the inflammation out. "Fine," I thought and envisioned some local anaesthetic, maybe a scalpel and an unpleasant but minor procedure in my not too distant future. "We'll do the surgery later tonight, and you'll be under mild anaesthesia, you'll be asleep." Whatnow? Surgery? Asleep?! Oh, brilliant. After about 6 rather long hours they slapped an IV cannula and a hospital gown on me, and took me down to surgery. I remember thinking something along the lines of

"how do I always end up in situations like these?"

Attack of the ninja squad
Being wheeled in to the surgery room was like being ambushed by a highly trained squad of ninja nurses, they were all over me like ants in an anthill, attaching monitoring equipment, adjusting the operating table, measuring my blood pressure, holding my oxygen mask, asking questions, calling the doctor. Points for effectiveness, I'll give them that! Then I was given some "powerful painkiller" or other, the effects of which I got to enjoy for about 5 seconds ("weeeeeee"), because after 4 deep breaths I was out like a light. I can't even remember slipping into sleep - one second I was focusing on breathing, the next second I was out cold.

They crudely woke me up about 30 minutes later, the surgery was over, all went well, but they suggested I might stay the night at the hospital. By this this time it was almost midnight, and I was kind of woozy after being in a mild coma for a few minutes, so I stayed, and was wheeled into a room where a sweet old lady which I'd met earlier that night, lay in her bed. Of course, as per usual, this woman had to be a professional snorer, and I went through 8 rather looooong hours of trying to block out the snoring and the increasing pain. If it hadn't been for my new headphones and the iPod I'd probably torn out the IV and marched out of there after an hour or two.

And now I'm here, in my comfy chair, eating painkillers and two types of antibiotics I've never even heard of, taking antibacterial baths twice a day and generally feel a bit sorry for myself. It all felt somewhat dramatic for what I initially thought was a minor thing, but the doctor told me that if I hadn't come to see her, the infection abscess might've punctured and it could've spread to all sorts of places, I think I even heard the word "infertility" among the possible worst case scenarios but I'd blocked her out by then. As my aunt just said: "That's just you. Only you could manage to get something like this". Yes, you're absolutely right, and I am very painfully aware of it.

I'm booked!

Today I finally made up my mind and went ahead and booked a hotelroom for my trip to London. No turning back now! After having a few rather lenghty chats with a friend of mine who's been to London several times, I gave up the idea of living close to the O2, seeing as I can just jump on a tube to North Greenwich and I'm there in 20 minutes anyway. She suggested that it would be smarter to stay closer to the city centre/downtown, then I wouldn't spend as much time travelling. Realising she had a good point, I checked out the hotel my aunt and her family stayed at, and decided to book there. It's called the Marble Arch Inn, unsurprisingly located by the Marble Arch and Hyde Park, close to Oxford St. and all things interesting in general. Fine, it's small and "only" rated as a two-star hotel, but for heavens sake, I'm a student, and just staying there for two nights anyway, I just need a bed and a shower and I'm a happy hamster. And, by booking via their own webpage instead of using Norwegian or hotels.com, I paid 90 quit for the room and ended up saving 30 quid. Yay!

Yesterday I got the money from the complaint case I "won" a while ago, and while it was quite the adrenaline rush to see a number that big on my account, a big chunk of it is already gone. On what? Well, a 500 quid sleeper sofa, for starters. And school books, phone bills, I had to pay rent from now until October 1st, school fee, I paid off some debt here and there, I moved some to another account to save for when I go to London/Bergen and possibly Düsseldorf (don't ask, long story, I'll write about it when I know more). All in all, the number decreased rather rapidly. Hopefully I get to save some, too...!

Yesterday when I drove to the neighboring town to buy that blasted sofa, I noticed a rattling in my Koss Porta-pro headphones, which I also suspect I might've slightly busted by playing something too loud, inadvertently or otherwise. Once I'd become aware of the rattling, it quickly drove me insane. Beside, I'm tired of having to cup my hands around my ears to get some proper dynamic sound into them. So I rather impulsively decided that I needed some new headphones to go with the FLACs that are currently eating up my hard disk. I had one requirement - the needed to cover my ears, that was it. I promptly ended up with these Sennheisers, they're called the HD 205 and are supposedly "DJ-style" - they have a funky feature which allows you to tip one of the headphones up so you can listen with just one ear. And, being "DJ phones" they're good at blocking out sounds from the outside. And, honestly, it's like being in a different world, sounds come at me from everywhere. Enough ranting, am off to be an audiophile, will enjoy my new headphones and a pile of Depeche Mode FLACs.

My brag list

I just found a picture on my mobile phone showing my concert ticket for the DM-show in Bergen in January 2010, a photo I probably took to send to the friend and co-fanatic that is coming with me. And as I spotted the picture I started to think about all the concerts I've seen, and wondered just how many bands and artist I've had the pleasure, or misfortune, to see over the years. Music has been a vital part of my existence all my life, and seeing music live became sort of an addiction after my sister took me to see Michael Jackson at Valle Hovin in 1997, which I think was my first major concert experience, and a bloody good way to start my career as a concert goer, I might add. After that I've been lucky enough to see some of my absolute favorite bands of all time, the ones that come to mind are Smashing Pumpkins, Tool, Kaizers Orchestra and of course, Depeche Mode. The best norwegian band I've ever seen was Kaizers Orchestra when they did a gig at Rockefeller in Oslo in 2005. And the one I'll always remember in silent shock and apathy is The Cure. Let's just say that Robert and company had to have a particularily uninspired day when they were at the Arvika festival in 2002.

I know this is going to look like a horribly long bragging list, but I just have to put it up.

Arvika festival, Sweden, 2000
Moby
Ulf Lundell
Lars Winnerbäck
The Wannadies
Fantomas

Arvika festival, Sweden, 2002
Muse
Infected Mushroom
The Cure
The Wannadies
Opeth
Soft Cell

Norwegian Wood, Norway, 2003
The Counting Crows
The Dandy Warhols

Quart festival, Norway, 2003
Mew
The Flaming Lips
Queens of the Stone Age
Massive Attack
Coldplay
Turboneger
Interpol

Øya festival, Norway, 2007
Tool
Nine Inch Nails
Gogol Bordello
El Caco
Memorial concert for Robert Burås of Madrugada

Arvika festival, Sweden, 2009
The Sounds
Detektivbyrån
The Mars Volta
Nine Inch Nails
Elegant Machinery
Bob Hund
Depeche Mode

Stand alone concerts
Michael Jackson, Valle Hovin 1997
AC/DC, Oslo Spektrum, 2000
Roger Waters, Oslo Spektrum 2002
Kent, Oslo Spektrum 2002 (Support: Melody Club)
Ulf Lundell, Karlstad
Smashing Pumpkins, Oslo Spektrum, 2000
Smashing Pumpkins, Oslo Spektrum, 2008
VNV Nation, John Dee, 2006

Norwegian bands:
Hellbillies
Dum Dum Boys
Morten Abel (3 times)
Kaizers Orchestra (4 times)
Turboneger
Bellman
Grand Island
Postgirobygget

I came to about 42 different bands and about 53 different concerts. Not bad for a 23 year old, eh? Since 2003 I've generally gone to very few festivals, mainly due to either mental or monetary problems, or a combination of both, but the very successful Arvika Festival of 2009 has really given me the drive to go to many more festivals, and see many more live concerts. There are a few bands I hope to see before he, she or they quit, like Nick Cave, Tom Waits, Sigur Ros, Metallica, Bloc Party and maybe Tool again (since their perfomance at Øya was sadly short). But I have plenty of time. Might have to hurry with Tom Waits and Nick Cave, tho.

But for now I'll settle with seeing Depeche Mode at the O2 in December, and again in Bergen in January. *manic eyes*

A scary process

First of all: I'm out of the hospital, and free as a bird. Being more or less "caged" in a hospital, in a room 3x3 meters, for five consecutive days, gives me a bad case of cabin fever. Considering the mate I'm with, which has been pumped full of chemotherapy, has to drag an IV stand around, has to pee every 2-4 hours, has lost his hair and can't move without crutches, I have no right to complain (plus, I volunteered for it). But I will anyway, because this is my blog and I do whatever the hell I like on it. Being there to keep him company is the least I can do, and I want to be there, but that still doesn't change the fact that I'm bloody chuffed to be out of that hospital, even more happy that I probably won't have to go back there for a while, and particularly ecstatic about not being waken every two hours with the words "we need to take a walk", meaning I had to get out of bed and help him with his IV stand across the hall to the bathroom. My mates surgery, and subsequent rounds of chemo and radiation, will be when I've started school, meaning I can't stay with him for his chemo anymore. And a very selfish part of me is dancing at that thought.

Jailbreak
Right now I'm in the process of doing something criminal and illegal - I'm jailbreaking my iPod Touch. Basically it means "cracking" the firmware that Apple provides for iTunes and the iPod devices, opening it so you can use 3rd party software and "unlicensed" or unoriginal applications. After endless readthroughs of tutorials using quickpwn, which refused to work with my firmware, I got a hold of a program called redsn0w, which is just a little excecutable run through the command prompt. And 1-2-3 voila, my iPod was jailbroken. This process looks damn scary, since you have to first put your iPod into DFU mode and then surrender it to the will of redsn0w, and just watch it, hoping your entire 'pod won't burst into flames. It didn't, and everything works beautifully. I just wish I'd discovered this BEFORE I tried to use quickpwn, and had to restore my iPod, resulting in a total reformatting and loss of everything I had on it. All my apps, my music, the videos, the pictures of Depeche Mode, all gone... *sighs*

Why am I doing this? Because I want to play bloody FLAC on my iPod dammit! FLAC stands for Free Lossless Audio Codec, and is a digital music file format like MP3, WAV, AAV etc. The difference is that it is an uncompressed form, meaning that while a "normal" MP3 file can play music at for example 92kbps, a FLAC plays at 3mbps. The result is music with far far better sound quality. Normally I wouldn't bother much with it, I haven't before, but this is again one of these things I just... get totally caught up in, stuck, hung up, and just HAVE to test it out. And of course it all comes back to DM. I seem to blame them for everything these days. But. On the Sounds of the Universe box there's a lot of dvd material, and over 2 hours of footage from their studio sessions while making the album, which I've of course watched a few times, along with video from studio sessions during Playing the Angel. All of this has made me realize the complexity of what they're doing, the amount of sound plonking, twinking, twiddling, fiddling, playing around and processing that goes into making an album is just immense, especially for a band like Depeche that's always been very "electronic" in how they work, starting as a pure synth band. In short: when you're fanatical about a band in which the main songwriter has a fetish for buying synthezisers and drum-machines on E-bay, you really have to make an effort to get the best listening experience. And I am.

Now, off to download their discography as FLAC tracks. It'll just take 7 hours, and eat up 5gigs on my 8gig iPod...