Just a quickie.

Just a quickie to say that I am totally addicted to freerice.com.

It's non-profit website where you answer questions on your choice of subjects. For every correct answer, 10 grains of rice are donated to the United Nations World Food Program to help end hunger.

It's such an easy way for people to make a difference :)

So what are you waiting for? Go go go!!

I am so.

I am so so tired but feeling very content right now. I don't know why.

I woke up very early this morning to get to school on time. I'm not a morning person at all and I need at least an hour and a half to start functioning properly.

It was pitch black when I woke - like the middle of the night. And then when I went out to the bus stop it looked like this:


It was really very pretty. Oh, and the photo is really bad quality cause I took it on my phone ;)

What was the point of this post again?... Oh well, off I go. Lalala.

I am no writer.

I am no writer. A writer can convey emotions through words.

A writer would be able to say that she wants to die - in some ways - but that in others she knows life goes on, and that death solves nothing.

A writer would scribble down the fact that she hates that she is no longer in control; that she doesn't know what's going to happen in the future and that that's what hurts the most.

She would say she doesn't know how she feels.

She would describe a knot in her stomach and a lump in her throat and a weight on her heart that she doesn't understand.

A writer would jot down that she cries not for unrequited love, but because she's not sure what love is, if she's had it, if she's lost it, if she'll find it or even if it exists at all.

But I am no writer. I'm just a girl.

Nothing to be done.

Nothing to be done when hopes are dashed.

When something keeps you going and then something goes away, it's just a matter of finding something new, right?

But what if you don't want anything different, because what you had before was perfect?

What do you do then?

What happens to a person who can not maintain hope?

New concept.

New concept for a piece of writing I'm working on - a script.

It's silly, really, that I should begin something new when I already have something else that's rather large in the works. I suppose that's just the way I am. I've had this idea festering away inside my tiny brain for at least a month, and I finally decided that I just had to get it out.

It's a play with two main players. There are a couple of minor characters too, but they have about one line each, if any. The main characters names are Paloma (a prostitute) and Duane (one of her clients). It's written mostly in dramatic monologues and is set in Paloma's apartment, and the street outside it.

I don't really feel comfortable revealing much more on the internet. Not that many people read this... But I suppose you can never be too careful.

However, I will leave any unknown readers with this:


It's a preliminary design for the stage that I quickly whipped up on paint, earlier today.

I've now.

I've now skipped two days of school in a row and I'm bored out of my mind.

I've been wasting way the time surfing the internet, playing tetris on my ds, and watching re-runs of 90's tv shows.

I'm feeling terribly lethargic, and totally stagnant. I need something productive to occupy my time.

I have assignments, of course, but they seem so pointless when I know that they don't count for anything. I have tennis training this afternoon, which I don't want to go to, even though I know it will be good for me to get the endorphins pumping, and that I'll probably end up enjoying it.

I think I should start a new craft project. Perhaps I will finish sewing the skirt I abandoned a couple of months ago. Or maybe I should start making some presents in preparation for Christmas. Of course, I know I am being very premature, but putting together creative things takes time - especially for me.

Well then, that's settled I suppose. I'll start tonight.

I played with the kittens today.


Isn't she lovely?

The days.

The days are getting shorter and shorter, and the sky is fading to gray. It will be winter again soon, and then the snow will come.

I've had a great weekend. I waent to a Beatles musical on Friday night, which was fantastic. The actors had amazing voices. After we went to The Viking (bar) to chill and chat. A newbie from Canada missed the last train and almost had a panic attack. I let her stay the night at mine.

I think everyone in the world should just take a deep breath and relax. No problem is too big to be solved, no matter how inevitably bleak the outcome may seem.

Yesterday we went to a birthday party for Thor. He was turning 12. Most people left at about 9. At about 10 everyone went to bed except me and Thor's father, Ken. We sat around drinking gin and tonic and talking until 1am. It was a nice night. You'd call it 'hyggeligt', if you were Danish.

I have now moved rooms into the tiny one in the loft of my host families house.


It's the perfect place for contemplation. Much quieter than the rest of the house - a space I can claim as my own.

Last night.

Last night I dreamed about arriving home.

I walked through the gates and there was a big group of people waiting for me. Linley and the girls were holding a ridiculously huge banner that said "Welcome home Elisa!".

My family was also there, as well as I think Julz, Megan and a few others.

Then standing right in the middle of the group, at the front, was Austen.

The walk towards them seemed to take forever and I was thinking to myself, "Stay calm, walk normally", but then I thought, "Fuck this", and I threw my bags down right in the middle of Arrivals and ran into a big hug from Austen.

I started crying and then he was holding my hands and saying how much he missed me and I said, "Kiss me quick, before I feint", and he did.

And that was all.

Oh Harold and Maude.

Oh Harold and Maude, how is it possible that I have not discovered you two before tonight?



It's bizarre and fantastic and wow.

Time for bed. School in the morning. Disgusting.

My host.

My host parents are away for the weekend.

My six year old host brother is tired and crying because he misses his mother. He can not sleep without being read to.

My ten year old host sister is currently sitting by his bed, reading a book to him.

Isn't that lovely?

She's very special.