Monday, January 30, 2006

January 30th. Maths and Sex.

I talked to a guy who said that.
I talked to a guy who called me rude.

And it wasn't like most guys call me rude when I don't have the time to answer their "wanna sex??" comments. It was real rude.

I'm gonna track him down and *blah* all over him.

And yes, I know he'll read this (flattering isn't it?).

He seemed nice though.
Except for when he called me rude.

Alright, it's 9:25am. Bedtime.

Night night!

Saturday, January 28, 2006

Little Devils...

The common idea is that girls are harder to please. We just want to find a guy, then we start changing him. Women get jealous, we have high expectations and want to be treated like little princesses. Otherwise we get grumpy and won't sleep with the guy. The strange thing about this is even we girls seem to accept it as a fact most of the time.

Of course girls are different. Some are easy to please, others won't be happy till you cut off your arm for them. But what is common for all of us, no matter where you are, no matter how easy you are to please, no matter what.. the one thing which is inevitable is this:

if we ever, ever, do anything "girly", we're accused of being "such a girl".

Which, said like that, is a really bad thing. Guys assume all girls are whiny little brats - and with the current girl they just haven't been able to prove it yet. As soon as we say something along the lines of "no, I won't let you take my clothes off in the middle of the street!" (yes, that happened), we become "such a girl". It's inevitable.

So imagine my surprise when I heard someone present this statement:

"guys are so fucking high maintenance, i swear dating women is easier"

This comes from someone who has dated both men and women. Someone who doesn't seem to be trapped inside everyday conventions and likes trying anything new. Someone who actually has the right to say anything at all about who is easier to date based on the simple fact that he has tried both.

Maybe he's right. I asked another guy what he thought. This was a guy I thought would say something along the lines of "some girls are easy, some are hard. just like guys." But I was wrong. His answer to the question "Do you think guys are easier to date than girls?" Was"Yeah I think so. Well most of the times."

A few minutes later we found out it came down to this:

girls are difficult because they have expectations about where to go and what to do on dates.

guys are easy because they don't have expectations about where to go and what to do.

Basically girls have expectations. But I would say it's more than a little naïve to say guys have no expectations. However - guys' expectations seem to revolve around the end of the date, not the other parts of it. Generally speaking, of course.

Guys are expected to want sex. We all know they want it.

What are girls expected to want? What can we want that guys will say "of course, it's only natural she wants that, and she should get it (although maybe not on the first date). It's not her fault."


Guys are high maintenance.
Who knew?!?

Wake up and smell the sarcasm...

Monday, January 23, 2006

Sunday, January 22, 2006

Turkish sex-logic

"For a guy it is harder to keep himself
u should applaud a guy if he keeps himself"

Basically this reflects the fact that girls don't need to have sex, and girls aren't good if they have sex without loving the guy. Guys don't need to love the girl because they need to have sex.

This doesn't sound quite right... Guys can have sex while girls can't? Why can't they just masturbate if they can't keep themselves? What's the difference?

"there must be something diffrent
u know in one of them u use ur eyes
and in the other u use ur skin too"

So only guys need the skin-on-skin sensation? I thought it was about needing to get off. Girls don't need to feel another person next to them?

it must be easier for girls"

How can a guy say it's easier for a girl not to have that? Guys think we don't someone next to us, they do, so they can have sex and we can't? Why only them?

"there are some girls who want expericned guys in sex"

Ah. That explains it. We want men who are experienced, that's why they have to sleep with lots of girls.

That's one more problem solved then, time to go to bed. Alone.

Friday, January 20, 2006

Thursday, January 19, 2006

A Crapload of Crap.

I came back to Bergen a week ago after a nice Christmas break. I unpacked my bags and went downstairs to our storage area to put my suitcases into my little room. In theory this is easy enough and I have never found it diffucult at all. This time was different.

My 'room' is in the corner at the end of the row of other rooms. It's at the end and backs up against the wall. A few months ago an old printer had been left in the corner outside my space down there. That's fine, not really a problem, I can still open the door.

A couple months later there's another printer. They're big and I have to move them to open the door properly. That's alright, I only go down there every two months anyway.

Then I come back from Christmas. Now, in addition to two printers, there's a plastic bag of paper of some kind, two huge black garbage bags of rubbish, some more clothes and another bag with wood sticking out of it. Yesterday I talked to the girl who lives here and works with the SiB (the student organization who owns the building) and she didn't know about it. She recommended I called the janitor, which I did this morning.

The janitor said they'd look at it next time they came round, but it is our responsibility to get rid of our junk. I know, I said, it's just so strange someone could leave things like that, we don't know who it belongs to, and it's blocking not just my space but also the two next to it. There's just more and more. He said maybe there's something that says who it belongs to.

I met the girl working for the SiB again, she said she'd talked to someone but waiting to hear back. I went downstairs to see what is there and try and find out who it belongs to. Now there's also a TV in the middle of the floor and a computer hard drive outside the door of my space. This is getting ridiculous.

But I'd decided to figure out who's doing this. The printers and computer and clothes... maybe people just don't know where to hand in this stuff, where to have it recycled or whatever they do to it. One of the printers looked pretty new too. But that doesn't help me out, I need a name, an address, a number - anything.

One of the bags contained cleaning stuff. Things to wash the floor with, windows, sponges. Another one (there are three now) has nothing but a bottle in it. In another corner of the room there's a carpet. In another there's another carpet, a lamp and a bucket with a broken beer bottle and a small bottle of vodka, empty. I get back to the bag outside my door.

I find a carton of milk. Empty. A carton of juice. Half full. A bag of stu. Dinner. Cheese. Not opened. Hair gel. Smells nice. The big black bag itself smells pretty bad. It seems like whoever it belongs to left in a hurry - who would throw out cheese he just bought and half-full boxes of hair gel? But then I hit gold. Papers. Lots of it.

It's probably a guy, judging by the handwriting. He attends the Høgskolen i Bergen, some kind of computer/marketing class. There are also a few print outs of rulings from the Norwegian Supreme Court. I find exercise papers, exam papers. Then an email address. It's too good to be true, it's his school address, which would allow me to find his name. I keep digging. It stinks.

Coffee stains. Yuck. Then what do you know... a letter from his bank. With his name. Christian A. R. Jørgensen from Ålesund. What else can I find? An envelope from a company that produces milk. Two confirmations of orders placed on the net - he's ordered DVDs, a CD. Papers here dating back to 2003, the latest I can find is October 2005. He lives, or lived, in appartment 423.

I look at the space marked 423, why is all this stuff outside mine and not inside his? All that's in there is a chair. And it's open. All the spaces have a big locks on them, but this one doesn't. It's not there. The garbage itself isn't strange, it's disgusting and more than little bit odd but it's not strange... The disappearance of the lock is strange.

Christian Jørgensen, 423... I don't know how much of this is yours but I know much of it is. I don't know if you put it there but I know you didn't throw it out when you left. Why didn't you? Where did you go?

Who is this guy?

(to be continued...)

Tuesday, January 17, 2006

Midnight Exercise

I like my bed. I love beds. I love rolling around, wrapping myself up in my duvet, I love shaking my pillow so it's fluffy and soft. I love sleeping late in the mornings, I love the feeling of being really sleepy and knowing and I can sleep all night...


I do not like fire alarms. I do not like it when they go off in the middle of the night and we have to put our clothes on and go downstairs. I don't like standing down there with everybody else, wondering what's going on and if it's a false alarm again.


And then the firemen come. They stop their trucks and rush inside, up the stairs and down again. They've got big pants and funny hats. Sometimes they have big tanks of air on their backs. We just look at them and try and stay awake.


Someone says there had been some sort of fire in one of the appartments for the handicapped. They should all live on the first or second floor, I have no idea why they've placed them up on the fifth - how are they supposed to get out of bed, into their wheelchairs and down four flights of stairs? Someone says it was on the second floor. We go back to our appartments.


On the fifth floor there's a fireman holding the door open and a girl saying she has to get into a room where she doesn't live. My roommates (the two guys) and I get back to the appartment - Ema dislikes the alarms more than I do and refuses to go downstairs when it goes off.


So... the firemen came. Put out the fire. Everything's alright. Why is the alarm still on?


It stopped. That's ok then, I don't mind it so much when there's actually a fire - better tired than dead. My roommate, the new one, asks if this happens a lot. He's relieved he didn't live here when we'd just moved in and this was a weekly event. Time to go to bed. Night night!


"Oh by the way" I explain to the new roommate, "it usually stops here for a minute, starts on the next floor, stops there, it's still on in the hallway, then it starts in your room and stops when it goes off in the living room...". He looks tired and says "ahh".




It may keep us from dying but a few improvements would be welcome.

Sleep. Now. Lights. Out. Contact. Lenses. In. Eyes. Zzzzzz.....

Friday, January 06, 2006

A Spy!

I just realized someone here, in this house, has been checking out my blog quite regularly. The IP address that I see when I've posted is the same one that's been here earlier in December, before I came home. Which means a family member is reading what I write. I find this more than a little disturbing.

On second thought it might now be a really good idea to stick to my resolutions.

The How Kinky Are You Really Tests


You scored 39% Kinkiness!

You've done most of the positions in the Kama Sutra, maybe even played around with the beginners SM stuff from the local porn shop. If you found it thrilling, there are classes to be had, groups to be found and dungeons to be played in - try finding them and checking them out. You might be surprised at what you discover.

I took another one... Remember this from a month ago? As others agreed with me the test was pretty innocent and the scores way too high I decided to try a new one which I found in my inbox today.

Again I have to admit the results are less than accurate. As I have decided to try not to talk so much about all things related to sex this year, this including, to some extent, this blog, I can't say what's right and what's wrong and what might be more right if only I had someone to practice with.

My new year resolutions this year decidedly suck...


Five days of the new year have passed and I have barely got my butt out of bed. I'm going back to Bergen bright and early Sunday morning. University starts Monday but the first week consists of one information meeting per subject, each lasting about an hour. I have to go back to Bergen to go to Uni for three hours.

Some of the time I won't spend at school (the remaining 37 hours of a normal work week) will be spent shopping. I don't want to but I've become painfully aware that I need some clothes. I hate shopping in winter, it's just depressing, but I really need a jacket, some pairs of trousers and a sweater or something... And rubber boots. When it rains in Bergen there is no other kinds of shoes that are able to keep your feet dry. I've lived there for a year and a half and I still haven't bought any. I'm sick of having to put all my clothes, including socks and underwear, up to dry when I get in. I should get a raincoat too.

Start the new year spending a ton of money I don't have. Shop till you drop. What about people who can't afford to buy rubber boots or a rain coat? What about those who have to wear the same clothes every day because they don't have anything else? People who spend all their money on food and are still hungry 24/7. Do we ever stop to think about them? Then again, thinking about it isn't going to help much. Is it now?

My fingers are cold. So are my toes. My fingers and toes are always cold. I don't understand why... that's supposed to happen to people who smoke. I'll blame it on second hand smoke. Or bad blood circulation? I'll go with the first since "bad circulation" sounds too much like someone who's sick. I'm not sick. Plus, blaming another thing on the nicotine addicts will be another argument for the abolisment of smokers. Not smoking. Just smokers. We'll simply extinguish you.*

This is gonna be a good year!

*The author accepts no responsibility whatsoever for the current validity, political correctness, seriousness or
quality of the information provided. No claims for liability relating to damage of any sort, resulting from use of, or failure to use, the information made available, or from the use of incorrect and incomplete information, shall be assertible against the author, this includes damages inflicted on your person from singlehandedly starting the extinguishing procedure ahead of time. Be responsible. Wear a helmet.