En kopp te, et stort vindu, skyting i Kolstadgata og @oslopolitiops på Twitter

Det finnes dem som aldri ville finne på å sette sin fot på østkanten, især ikke på Tøyen. Jeg er ikke en av dem.

Tvert imot er jeg strålende fornøyd med min nye residens. Jeg bor naturligvis på Nedre Kampen og ikke Tøyen (eller den rette siden av Kjølberggata, om du vil) ifølge eiendomsmegleren som solgte meg leiligheten min. For min del er det ikke så vesentlig hvilken side av Kjølberggata jeg befinner meg på. Det viktige er at jeg har et stort vindu ut mot gata, som gir meg full oversikt derfor hver gang politiet rykker ut.

Jeg har nemlig ikke fått rigga opp min 20 tommer store TV enda.

Derfor har jeg i stedet plassert den fine dagsenga mi, laget av min oldefar, ved vinduet. Med nakken godt støttet opp av fancy, dyre designerputer (denne detaljen er med til ære for vestkantfolket som tror vi østkantmennesker kun handler på IKEA og Nille), en kopp te i karmen, Ralph ved beina mine og Mac-en på fanget, tilbringer jeg kveldene med å følge oslopolitiets twitteraktivitet, samtidig som jeg spaner etter blålys.

Fra denne dagsenga følger Ralph og jeg med på politiets aktiviteter på Tøyen.

Med tanke på rapporter om skyting på Tøyen flere helger på rad, tør jeg påstå at det er en spennende hobby. Torsdag var det endog full utrykning tvers over gata. Tre brannbiler, to ambulanser og flere politibiler var på stedet på grunn av mistanke om brann. Riktignok viste det seg å være falsk alarm (zalo på varm kokeplate, meldte @oslopolitiops), men det var spennende så lenge det varte.

Drama i Hagegata. Men “brannen” viste seg å være zalo på en varm kokeplate.

Fredag kveld har jeg observert fire politibiler rykke ut, og melder følgende på Twitter:

“Politiet rykket ut til området Kolstadgata 7; melding om skudd avfyrt. Trolig avfyrt skudd, men gjerningsmenn forlatt stedet før vi kom fram”.

Hvem trenger Skavlan da?

Returning to the motherland and mother tongue

A few weeks ago I said my farewell to the American Dream. I never got hit by a car or served too hot coffee, and hence, I never got to sue anyone and live that dream fully, so I decided to pack my bags and go back to Norway.

Though I do miss the special atmosphere of Washington DC, and though I feel like a nomad back home, with no place of my own and no fulltime job yet, I think I will hang around in the cold north for a while now.

I considered letting my blog die since I moved back, but instead I’ve decided it will be reborn – in my mother tounge this this time around.

To all of my non-Norwegian readers, go learn Norwegian 🙂

Stay tuned for Pancakes and the city – reborn.

Thank you all, and good night!

Blonde, Russian girl on Red-Line

I have a guilty pleasure. I love reading the personals on Craigslist. Nope, not the casual encounters (quite frankly someone should tell these guys that posting a picture of a penis does not increase chances of getting a reply).

However I simply cannot resist the missed connections. Imagine you see a guy or girl on the bus or metro, or from a mile away. Maybe you share a few words, a glance, or maybe he/she isn’t even aware of your stare.

Regardless, you are feeling a major attraction. How do you ever get in touch with this perfect specimen? Approach him/her and start a conversation? Maybe ask for the attractive specimen’s phone number?

Oh no, God forbid you actually take advantage of having him/her in front of you.

Oh no, instead you post an ad in the missed connections section in hopes that the other person by some random chance will be reading the missed connections, realizing you are talking about him or her, decide that this is not creepy at all and email you back.

And then you live happily ever after!

The ad might go something like this (real ad from Craigslist DC):

“Starbucks – m4w 33 (Leesburg)

This a complete shot in the dark. We were both at Starbucks this morning. I was waiting on my coffee and you must have been waiting on someone. You were in a dress and I must say that you looked great in it. We made eye contact often. Love to buy you a coffee sometime.”

As the poster correctly assumes, an add on missed connections does not have a very high success rate. Which is why the really smart posters do things the right way:

“Blonde, Russian Girl on Red-Line – m4w (red-line)

We smiled but I never got chance to talk to you. Me; wm, tall, good looking, blue suit, dark hair, eyes. Let’s talk. Finding this girl is a long shot so any girl reading this is welcome to email me.”

Yup, the Russian chick is smokin, but honestly, at this point anything resembling a female will suffice.

It is simply brilliant. I love missed connections.

I would love to meet you again blonde, Russian girl. However, any female who reads this ad would work. No, I am not desperate!

Treasure Hunt, Defeat and Panic

I am going to presume you have all missed new blog posts and are wondering if I am even alive anymore (that is, if you’re not friends with me on Facebook, Twitter or a close family member).

Good news – I am most certainly alive!

Proof that I am alive. My big sis is also very much alive.

I have even ventured off on some new adventures:

Adventure 1:

Yard Saling – No, this does not involve a boat or any other floating device. Yard Saling is the art of treasure hunting on yard sales for the purpose of reselling them at a higher price on Ebay. Naturally the Texan is full of himself and thinks he would be better at this than me. Therefore, Saturday two weeks ago we kicked of our yard saling duel. The goal is to make the most profit of items found at yard sales.

I ventured of to a yard sale with books and invested one dollar on a hard cover book called “Life of Pi”. A book might not seem as a great way to make quick money. However, I decided to go for the strategy slow and steady, with little risk involved. So far, little risk, and absolutely no return. Nobody has bought my book. It’s a good thing I might want to read it myself.

The Texan aimed high. He bought an Akubra hat, made in Australia, for 3 dollars. Now, who on earth would want to buy an Australian cowboy hat, you might ask. Well, apparenly someone, as he just sold it yesterday for 40ish dollars.

Texan 1- Norwegian 0

Adventure 2:

Geocaching – I was meeting my Swedish neighbor for a walk on Sunday.

“I thought we could do some geocaching,” she said. Of course I had no clue what that was at the time.

Turns out it is high tech treasure hunting with the satisfaction of finding the item you are looking as the grand prize. Fascinating and fun, and a brilliant way to explore new places.

Check it out. Geocachers are all over the world. Maybe you have a treasure just waiting to be found in your neighborhood?

Read all about geocaching and how to get started here.

Adventure 3:

My new adventures in unemployment – I decided life is meant to be lived, so as of today I am poor, but happy, and currently operating under the title house girlfriend, which means I get to cook and clean until I bring in cash again.

In the meantime I will happily accept donations, paid writing and translating assignments 🙂

Need job in order to shop at Anthropologie.

Adventure 4:

The Ragnar Relay – 12 runners, three legs each, a total of 200 miles from Cumberland, MD to National Harbor in Washington, DC.

Yup, seeing as I am a former sprinter who has been transformed into a cherry picking striker in 7v7 soccer because I don’t like to run, this will be a whole new experience for me. Though the race isn’t until late September, I am already in a state of panic.

These legs are built for speed and/or rest – NOT for endurance. Hence, I panic.

The Complexity of a Texan

Being from Texas can be tough, especially once you migrate from the south and into the more liberal parts of this vast country.

When you tell people you are from Texas, the response might be something along the lines of, “oh, cool. Do you wear cowboy boots and a hat?” Naturally it is all said in a joking manner.

However, what is not included in the actual response, but is lingering on the mind of the liberal the Texan encounters, is something akin to this, “You are from Texas. Hence, you must wear a cowboy hat and boots all the time, love God, fastfood, George Bush, Rick Perry, Glenn Beck and guns, hate government, taxes, education, anything that includes the word social (whether or not an ism is irrelevant) and all liberals, and strongly believe that Obama was not born in the US.”

Now, since I have acquired a Texan I would like to show the fairly unknown complexity of a Texan:

Yes, Texans do wear their hats with great sense of pride...

However, you might also find a Texan playing a guitar and singing into a floor lamp...

Contrary to popular belief you may also stumble upon a Texan engaging in physical activity, such as biking...

The Texan may also leave his hat and boots at home at times, and instead dress like a Hollywood star...

The Texan may also show a cultural side at times, including, but not limited to country music...

The Texan could also have a creative side to him, which leads him to create coat racks and such... (not all Texans come with this skill set)...

These are just a few of the different sides a Texan might show.

So next time you run into a Texan who has migrated into your liberal world, don’t judge him before you get to know him.

This post was sponsored by the Committee To Protect Texans Who Have Migrated To The Liberal North (CTPTWHMTTLN).

The Day the Texan Shot Me

Well, sort of.

This weekend I went to Texas to attend the Texan’s brother’s wedding (a beautiful wedding I must add). The Texan used to be an avid paintball player and back on his old territory he figured it would be the perfect time to introduce me to the game.

Now, anyone who knows me can tell you that first of all I have a terrible aim (I blame this on genetics – I was born with poor vision). I am also a big wuss when it comes to anything that I am not good at and that might hurt.

So I tried to talk myself out of the situation. Needless to say, without luck. Minutes later I was dressed up in camo from head to toe, sporting a face mask and a gun, ready to battle for my team. In 90 degrees and blistering sun.

Armed and dangerous...sort of.

I’d say I am reasonably smart, and playing on a team with former active players I decided to trust their skills. Also, I was too close to a heat stroke to run and scared to death about being ahot, so I posted in the back with a ten year old kid, and took part in the action from a distance.

It was a wise decision. We won two games in a row and I didn’t get shot. I decided to quit while I was on top and while I’d still only lost about a kilo (2.2 lbs) in water weight from sweating.

The rest of the day I posted in the sun.

Until I made a huge mistake. I volunteered to take action pics of the Texan as he went on a paintball shooting spree (and got shot in the face by a ten year old who took full advantage of the Texan not wanting to shoot a little kid and traumatize him).

The Texan showing off his skills.

All good till the game ended. Then the Texan has a brilliant idea.

Texan – Let me shoot you.

Me – What?????

Texan – Yup, you need to be initiated. You can’t really say you’ve played paintball until you’ve been hit.

Me – That’s a stupid idea.

And then the Texan shot me. In the leg. Twice.

Thanks for making my leg look so pretty, Texan boy!

Hellooooo Firefighters

Those of you who know me know that I have a sweet spot for those brave men of the fire department.

Tuesday night was my lucky night. I got to admire no less than eight truck loads of them. Yup, we are talking an abundance of my heroes.

Why, you might ask? Well, in the midst of the premiere of NBC’s Fashion Star we heard the fire alarm go off. Now, this has happened once before, for no other reason than the fire alarm being a little trigger happy. However, this time the Texan concludes that we probably should take the dogs and go outside since we could hear sirens right outside.

Ahh...what a glorious view that met me outside my building.

So we walk down the stairs to find a slight smell of smoke and a neighbor getting out of the elevator after apparently being stuck for a short while. Outside the entire building is surrounded by fire trucks full of helmet clad boy toys…(at this time I also realize that since I just threw some clothes on after showering, I am not wearing a bra…those lucky boys, well, they would be if I were better equipped in the rack section).

I feel like I have won the lottery and am admiring the view, while the Texan is racing to make it to the beer store before it closes (yes, in time of possible fire the beer store should be your number one priority).

Unfortunately it turns out that the fire is nothing more than dust on the elevator motor. Shortly after the show is over.

The Texan comes back empty handed, missing his beer window by six minutes. He is sad.

I am happy for three reasons.

One, there is no fire and hence, my Eames Rocking Chair and my Mac are safe.

Two, the massive amount of fire trucks that showed up make me confident I will not die in a fire as long as I live here.

Three, for the same reason as above I am confident that at some point in my life my big dream will come true and I will find myself being lifted out of a window and taken to safety in the arms of a brave firefighter (just rescued, nothing more. I already have my Texan, who by the way could have been a firefighter if he wanted to)!

Perhaps one day it will be my turn to be rescued by one of these...

Life is Wonderful

The sky is perfectly blue with the sun shining bright.

The temperature is about 25 degrees centigrade.

It’s my day off. I am sitting outside the coffee shop in shorts and a tank top, adding som new freckles to my face while reading a magazine and drinking a mint condition cooler.

Yup, life is pretty sweet right now.

A Pretty Awesome Blog

No, I am not referring to mine (though it’s totally ok if you think my blog is very, somewhat or at least a little awesome).

I am not one of those truly adventurous online surfers – I pretty much make the same rounds every day (a number of Norwegian newspapers of varying quality, Washington Post, Huffington Post, CNN, a few cake blogs, Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, YouTube, Wikipedia to look up whatever random topic of the day I decides needs research…you get the idea). I am not the kind of surfer who would accidentally stumble upon creepy porn sites or what lamps are bet for growing illegal substances.

This picture has nothing to do with this blog post, but I figured the blog needed a picture, and I like the saying, so there you go!

However, once in a while I will venture off into the online world on a search for new additions to my daily rounds.

This is how I discovered what is possibly my new favorite blog. The Everywherist is in short a blog by a lady whose husband travels a lot through his job. When she  was laid off, she decided to follow her husband around the world.

And blog about it.

It’s witty, entertaining, well written and charming. I like! If you’re not already following the blog (as aforementioned I tend to be a little slow at discovering some of the online awesomeness), you probably should.

And you should probably also let me know about other great blogs I am missing out on.

Just Another Thursday Night Shootout

I am no expert as far as what gun shots sound like.

However, when I took the dog out last night I heard a loud bang. After a few seconds I heard several more bangs. Since I have a thing for action I concluded there was drama in my hood.

The Texan agreed, especially after we heard sirens all over the place shortly after…

This morning we found out there had been a shootout between a neighbor down the street and the cops. So many shots were fired that the police had to use a rake to collect all the bullet casings.

The perp is apparently in critical condition after being shot by the cops.

Sweet hood I live in!