Thanksgiving is my dad's favorite holiday because it is a time to spend with the people you love and to reflect on everything in your life you have to be thankful for. I think it is easy to take for granted things in your life which you are accustomed to, but I don't want that to be me. I find upon taking a step back, the feeling that my life is charmed. I certainly have much to be thankful for.
When I first decided to study in Norway the thought of leaving all my friends back home was daunting. I am fortunate enough to have the most hilarious, kind, trustworthy, wonderful friends that are a constant source of happiness. I really don't know what I would do without them. The only way I was even able to leave was because I know that our bonds are so strong that no matter where I am in the world, how long it has been since we have talked (hopefully not very long), I will always have them. Those are real friends.
Now that I am here, I often am baffled at the idea that if I would have continued my life back in the states, all the amazing people I have met in Norway would go on living their lives and I would have gone on living mine without ever knowing each other. What a shame that would have been. I have only been here three months and I feel confident in saying that I am forming friendships that will last.
And of course, I am lucky enough to have the most supportive, generous, self sacrificing, and caring family I could ever ask for. They taught me what love is and made me who I am today. My parents often tell me that everything I have achieved thus far has been my own doing, but I beg to differ. Everything has been made possible by their support and encouragement over the years. They taught me that happiness is not found in the number of extra zeros in your paycheck but rather in finding passion in life through things/people you love. It is with this mentality that I try to live my life and thus every adventure I experience and every joy along the way, they are a part of.
I'm sorry for the overly sentimental post, but I think it is important to tell people how much you appreciate them. I do not think you should need a specific day to do it, but Thanksgiving provides the opportunity and is a good reminder. So, I am thankful for my friends and family because you are what makes my life a charmed one.
Thursday, November 25, 2010
Thursday, November 18, 2010
I Come From the Land of the Ice and Snow....
It's about time I write something on here...but the truth is my life has been consumed with schoolwork and hasn't been particularly interesting. I'll see what I can do.
One new thing is the snow. I fully anticipated ice and snow when I planned on moving to Norway but I neglected to fully comprehend just how slippery and icy it would be. Now, on a good day I'm less than graceful so you give me ice and what my California ass thought would be proper footware and you pretty much have a walking disaster. No that is too kind, I no longer walk....I waddle. I'm slipping and sliding every which way and what kills me is seeing how well adapted the Norwegians are. They seem to just glide as they go from place to place while I am bambi on ice. I felt satisfied when after getting off the train I slipped and almost fell but then heard the person after me do the same. I thought to myself..."great, I'm not the only one." Then I heard them speak English and realized that it must be a foreigner thing. I bet no Norwegians have webbed feet. They wouldn't survive without the extra stability of toes. Survival of the fittest. What amazes me is that not only is the ground that clearly looks icy slippery, but also the ground that looks completely normal. It so deceptive because you think you are home free and you hit it and just start sliding. This happened to me on a hill and I feared I would never make it up. I have come to learn one trick with this. If it is sparkly, it is slippery as well. Beware the dreaded sparkly pavement because it is no ordinary pavement...it is a foreigner death trap.
On the bright side, I have discovered the joy of crunchy snow. In an attempt to avoid imminent doom, I started walking on the crunchy snow on the sides of paths. It was here where I discovered the joy of crunching snow with your feet. I really can't explain it, but there is something so satisfying about hearing and feeling the crunch of snow under your feet. It's a form of stress release I'm sure. I'm convinced its the equivalent to how a cat feels when it scratches a scratching post. Utter relief from any pent up tension. So much to Maria's dismay, I tromp around like "like a little kid" in the snow. This seems to be a good solution to the ice problem but there are hidden dangers involved with this as well. For instance, stomping around on the side of the path while talking to Maria caused me to smack my face into a tree branch that was hanging over the side of the path. She laughed pretty hard, but it's ok because the same thing happened to her the next day. Karma. Anyways, I can chalk this up into two lessons: 1) crunchy snow is great 2) beware of trees.
One new thing is the snow. I fully anticipated ice and snow when I planned on moving to Norway but I neglected to fully comprehend just how slippery and icy it would be. Now, on a good day I'm less than graceful so you give me ice and what my California ass thought would be proper footware and you pretty much have a walking disaster. No that is too kind, I no longer walk....I waddle. I'm slipping and sliding every which way and what kills me is seeing how well adapted the Norwegians are. They seem to just glide as they go from place to place while I am bambi on ice. I felt satisfied when after getting off the train I slipped and almost fell but then heard the person after me do the same. I thought to myself..."great, I'm not the only one." Then I heard them speak English and realized that it must be a foreigner thing. I bet no Norwegians have webbed feet. They wouldn't survive without the extra stability of toes. Survival of the fittest. What amazes me is that not only is the ground that clearly looks icy slippery, but also the ground that looks completely normal. It so deceptive because you think you are home free and you hit it and just start sliding. This happened to me on a hill and I feared I would never make it up. I have come to learn one trick with this. If it is sparkly, it is slippery as well. Beware the dreaded sparkly pavement because it is no ordinary pavement...it is a foreigner death trap.
On the bright side, I have discovered the joy of crunchy snow. In an attempt to avoid imminent doom, I started walking on the crunchy snow on the sides of paths. It was here where I discovered the joy of crunching snow with your feet. I really can't explain it, but there is something so satisfying about hearing and feeling the crunch of snow under your feet. It's a form of stress release I'm sure. I'm convinced its the equivalent to how a cat feels when it scratches a scratching post. Utter relief from any pent up tension. So much to Maria's dismay, I tromp around like "like a little kid" in the snow. This seems to be a good solution to the ice problem but there are hidden dangers involved with this as well. For instance, stomping around on the side of the path while talking to Maria caused me to smack my face into a tree branch that was hanging over the side of the path. She laughed pretty hard, but it's ok because the same thing happened to her the next day. Karma. Anyways, I can chalk this up into two lessons: 1) crunchy snow is great 2) beware of trees.
Saturday, November 6, 2010
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
You Look Beautiful, But Back Up Off of my Grill
It's been a week since I wrote a proper update and in that measly little time frame I have managed to start two movements soon to take Norway by storm. That takes skill...or pushiness, but I prefer the former.
Movement #1: Fo' Shizzel
Ok, I never said they were necessarily good movements. This story starts at our ecology and evolutionary biologists weekly happy hour on Friday. Yes, college students back home, feel free to weep with jealousy. Anyways, I was sitting with a few friends looking down at my beer and I hear one of the Norwegian friends refer to another as "homie." It was so out of nowhere that I just about died laughing. This paved the way for a conversation with my research group at a farewell dinner for one of our members. They explained to me that they at times don't understand American slang. I had to think about it a bit but we do use a ton of slang without even being aware of it. Somewhere along the line I started giving them examples of phrases like "homie" that are really not cool anymore like "fo' shizzel" and we started using them jokingly. I promised them I would make a list of slang, which I did (with the help of a skype session with Jiro) and categorized in "Commonly Used," "Ghetto" and "Ancient" phrase sections, so they would be completely up to date. This list was complete with all of our favorites including cupcaking, grenades and buttafaces. For some reason, despite my efforts, the ghetto phrases seem to have stuck better, particularly fo' shizzel. So now when I talk to Maria on line she will throw in a fo' shizzel or my group members will drop it in conversations. It is still a joke at this point, but I think it is only a matter of time before it morphs into just normal conversation. Pretty soon greetings in Norway will consist of "What up beezy?" "Dude, there are landmines everywhere today, feel me?" "Fo' shizzel, man." So if you hear back home how Norway has gone hood, you will know who to blame.
Movement 2: You Look Beautiful Tonight
So Maria and I have taken to complimenting each other quite a bit. Why you ask? Because Norwegians don't compliment each other, particularly men to women. We are both used to casual compliments here and there from people that aren't hitting on us. In Norway, if I guy compliments a woman, apparently it comes off that they are hitting on them. This is good to know because Maria and I were starting to feel like chopped liver. Anyways, after a couple glasses of wine at dinner in our biology conference, we started jokingly bagging on Norwegian men. Maria said they don't compliment women and that we should go to Sweden because she thinks it is much better there. Ouch. This got everyone at the table's attention (seeing how they were all Norwegian) and Maria conveniently slipped away to leave me defending our theory. Surprisingly, they agreed with me and admitted that it is weird that they don't feel comfortable complimenting someone. My favorite though, was when one confused Norwegian then looked at me and said, "well what would I compliment?" Dramatically, I dropped my jaw and everyone started laughing as he scrambled to explain that is not what he meant (which I knew). I explained to them, for instance, you can tell someone "You look beautiful tonight." So then of course all the men told the women this. I think it will take some time before they learn how to properly place the compliments, but babysteps. This also stuck a bit and the next morning despite feeling like death from far too little sleep Maria and I were told we looked nice. It was really amusing though when someone not aware of the new movement was complimented, and immediately got stiff and looked down awkwardly and my friend had to quickly explain he wasn't hitting on her. She was clearly in shock and didn't know what to do with the compliment. Thus, I think there will probably be an adjustment period, but they will come around. After all, a well placed, sincere compliment can make someone's day. In my eyes, this movement makes up for fo' shizzel, though I'll admit it's debatable.
So, it appears I am not the only one affected by my new life in Norway, but I'm leaving little bits of my influence with Norwegians as well. I wish that I was responsible for more valuable or significant movements than archaic words like fo' shizzel, but I've only been here a few months. Imagine what I can get myself into in 2+ years.
Movement #1: Fo' Shizzel
Ok, I never said they were necessarily good movements. This story starts at our ecology and evolutionary biologists weekly happy hour on Friday. Yes, college students back home, feel free to weep with jealousy. Anyways, I was sitting with a few friends looking down at my beer and I hear one of the Norwegian friends refer to another as "homie." It was so out of nowhere that I just about died laughing. This paved the way for a conversation with my research group at a farewell dinner for one of our members. They explained to me that they at times don't understand American slang. I had to think about it a bit but we do use a ton of slang without even being aware of it. Somewhere along the line I started giving them examples of phrases like "homie" that are really not cool anymore like "fo' shizzel" and we started using them jokingly. I promised them I would make a list of slang, which I did (with the help of a skype session with Jiro) and categorized in "Commonly Used," "Ghetto" and "Ancient" phrase sections, so they would be completely up to date. This list was complete with all of our favorites including cupcaking, grenades and buttafaces. For some reason, despite my efforts, the ghetto phrases seem to have stuck better, particularly fo' shizzel. So now when I talk to Maria on line she will throw in a fo' shizzel or my group members will drop it in conversations. It is still a joke at this point, but I think it is only a matter of time before it morphs into just normal conversation. Pretty soon greetings in Norway will consist of "What up beezy?" "Dude, there are landmines everywhere today, feel me?" "Fo' shizzel, man." So if you hear back home how Norway has gone hood, you will know who to blame.
Movement 2: You Look Beautiful Tonight
So Maria and I have taken to complimenting each other quite a bit. Why you ask? Because Norwegians don't compliment each other, particularly men to women. We are both used to casual compliments here and there from people that aren't hitting on us. In Norway, if I guy compliments a woman, apparently it comes off that they are hitting on them. This is good to know because Maria and I were starting to feel like chopped liver. Anyways, after a couple glasses of wine at dinner in our biology conference, we started jokingly bagging on Norwegian men. Maria said they don't compliment women and that we should go to Sweden because she thinks it is much better there. Ouch. This got everyone at the table's attention (seeing how they were all Norwegian) and Maria conveniently slipped away to leave me defending our theory. Surprisingly, they agreed with me and admitted that it is weird that they don't feel comfortable complimenting someone. My favorite though, was when one confused Norwegian then looked at me and said, "well what would I compliment?" Dramatically, I dropped my jaw and everyone started laughing as he scrambled to explain that is not what he meant (which I knew). I explained to them, for instance, you can tell someone "You look beautiful tonight." So then of course all the men told the women this. I think it will take some time before they learn how to properly place the compliments, but babysteps. This also stuck a bit and the next morning despite feeling like death from far too little sleep Maria and I were told we looked nice. It was really amusing though when someone not aware of the new movement was complimented, and immediately got stiff and looked down awkwardly and my friend had to quickly explain he wasn't hitting on her. She was clearly in shock and didn't know what to do with the compliment. Thus, I think there will probably be an adjustment period, but they will come around. After all, a well placed, sincere compliment can make someone's day. In my eyes, this movement makes up for fo' shizzel, though I'll admit it's debatable.
So, it appears I am not the only one affected by my new life in Norway, but I'm leaving little bits of my influence with Norwegians as well. I wish that I was responsible for more valuable or significant movements than archaic words like fo' shizzel, but I've only been here a few months. Imagine what I can get myself into in 2+ years.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)