I’m feeling just a little sheepish. I found the book. It was in the bag I had brought to Trysil and that I hadn’t bothered unpacking yet.

Definitely sheepish.

So: Not only would I have avoided the whole problem had I unpacked and tidied away like a good sensible girl. I also have definite proof of a very leaky memory. Sieve. That’s what it leaks like. How come I didn’t remember packing it?

Sheepish. Sheepish. Sheepish.

Voice on the stereo: Alanis Morisette – So unsexy

I’ve aquired a flatmate today. I was looking at this glass bowl-slash-vase I bought at IKEA recently and thought: “Hey, that would look good with a fish in it.”

So now it has. I think his name is Toby, he looks like a Toby to me. Anyway, I walked into the petshop thinking I’d get one of the traditional goldfish type, and came out with a betta. Donna will know all about that. He seems to be settling in ok, we’ve been watching television together for a while (Irish version of “Popstars”, the only reality show I actually watch).

And here he is:

I’m already thinking of the other vase-thingy I have which is pretty much the same size (though cylindrical)…

1. Where do you currently work?
In Oslo, in a company producing software for patient journal handling in GP offices.
2. How many other jobs have you had and where?
Full-time: 3, including this one. The first was in Telford and Worthing, UK, the second was also in Oslo.
3. What do you like best about your job?
The technical challenges and my colleagues.
4. What do you like least about your job?
Having to get up early in the morning.
5. What is your dream job?
Something to do with books, I suppose, but that also pays well…

Hold on to your hats! Sit down! Have you heard the news?! There is a publication date, at last, for Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix!

21 June seems like a long way away, but I was beginning to get worried that it would never be published at all. I have, obviously, pre-ordered from Amazon. However, what I am tempted to do is buy a cheap ticket from Ryanair and go camp out in front of a bookshop in the British isles on the evening of the 20th. There’s bound to be shops keeping open at midnight to let people have the book at the first possible moment.

Oh joy, oh joy, oh exquisite joy! A flower on Rowling’s head! Please excuse me while I go and shout for joy for a few minutes.

I hurt everywhere. I somehow got myself really geared up Saturday morning and decided that since I had an opportunity to try snowboarding I would…

Great fun, though, and I want to have a go again, but next time I’m bringing my knee-pads (ouch, ouch, ouch).

The weekend was a blast. There was great food, there was partying, there was certainly more than enough alchohol, there were people being discovered asleep in the bubble bath when other people got up for breakfast in the morning, there was even playing of TP in the sauna (girls against boys, girls obviously winning by the time we had to quit, despite being in a definite minority). And there was snowboarding. The weather, too, was just perfect. Cloudy, but mild enough to make being outside bearable (-4 to -9, most of the time).

With hindsight I obviously didn’t need my skis and ski boots. On the other hand, there was only thing I forgot to pack – it turned out that it was that time of the month… A quick trip to the shop sorted that problem out.

Voice in my head: Avril Lavigne hollering “Can’t you see that you’re lying to yourself?” (Is that my subconscious trying to give me a hint, I wonder?) – can’t remember the name of the song

1. Where are you right now?
At home again.
2. What time is it?
20:20, Sunday evening.
3. What are you wearing?
Pyjama bottoms and a nightshirt that has been “loved to death” (i.e. it’s at least 13 years old and has been worn and washed so much that it is starting to disintegrate).
4. Any people or animals around you? Describe them.
Nope.
5. What are your plans for the weekend?
My plans for the rest of this weekend is to do nothing much and try to recover from the previous 48 hours. (Report to follow.)

There’s about an hour left of the working day and I just finished a script. Now what? I’m sure there’s lots of stuff I ought to be doing, but my mind has gone blank. It must be Friday.

Well, if it’s Friday, why is there no Friday Five? Because there isn’t. Not yet, anyway.

Voice in my head: Alanis Morisette, 21 Things (as of last night) – very pertinent to a current Mingle discussion.

From Joh, a Guardian mood/poetry matcher. Weird. Nice poem, and the assessment of my mood is not widely off the mark. However, I’m not quite sure I see the link between the poem and the assumed mood. Which was also what Joh objected to too, in a way.

Anyhoo, a spot of Dickinson in the morning is no bad thing.

Mood assessment: “Sometimes you just feel like getting away from it all – to some pure, solitary mountain top where you can wander, free as a bird… but if you’re stuck behind a desktop instead, take some solace in this.”

And the “appropriate” poem:

These are the days when the birds come back

These are the days when Birds come back –
A very few – a Bird or two –
To take a backward look.

These are the days when skies resume
The old – old sophistries of June –
A blue and gold mistake.

Oh fraud that cannot cheat the Bee –
Almost thy plausibility
Induces my belief.

Till ranks of seeds their witness bear –
And softly thro’ the altered air
Hurries a timid leaf.

Oh Sacrament of summer days,
Oh Last Communion in the Haze –
Permit a child to join.

Thy sacred emblems to partake –
Thy consecrated bread to take
And thine immortal wine!

Emily Dickinson (1830 – 1886)

Ok, so I’m going away for the weekend. To Trysil of all places. It’s one of these winter sports places so what the heck am I going there for?

I dunno. I’m bringing my skis (cross country) seeing as I dragged them down from Trondheim for the purpose, but the forecast is -15 or worse, so I am also bringing Trivial Pursuit and picturing spending most of my time indoors in the cabin. Though, cabin… It’s a work-do thing and we’re all staying in the “cabin” which takes more than 35 people and has a spa bath thingy and a sauna in the basement. Which reminds me: swimsuit.

So. I am tying to pack. And to pack sensibly. Which is difficult.

There will be duvet-covers etc. provided. Does etc. include towels, I wonder? Surely? Oh, what the f&%¤, I can always buy one Saturday morning, there will be shops, and though I have a problem picturing Trysil as the shopping capital of the world, surely they must be able to come up with a towel.

This is what I have so far, tell me if there’s something I seem to have forgotten, will you:
skis
skiing boots
skiing outfit (long woollen stockings, knee-length trousers, fleece top, windbreaker, mittens and fleece hat)
various undergarments covering most eventualities except “I’ll slip into something more comfortable”
pyjama top
pyjama bottom (one I’ve finished wearing it for the night)
slippers
socks (a couple of extra pairs in case of wetness)
woollen socks
extra fleece top, for inside wear in case of cold cabin
a couple of t-shirts
one pair of “dressy” trousers for the Saturday evening meal
ditto dressy top (x2, couldn’t make up my mind)
extra book (THE book not being packed yet as I will want to read more before I go)
some cds
camera, extra lenses, etc. (hm, film? No, no extra film in fridge, I wonder if they’ll have anything useable in Trysil)

Am I bringing a teddy bear? I don’t think so. Once I’ve packed toothbrush and such (makeup? can I be bothered?), that’s it.

I’m contemplating bringing the tripod, but it’s kinda heavy, and I don’t know whether I’ll actually use it at all. On the other hand, new(ish) moon over Trysil? Sounds like the tripod could be fun. Provided I have enough film. I packed a black and white film, but new(ish) moon in black and white? I don’t know.

So, tell me, what have I forgotten?

Voice on the stereo: Alanis Morisette “These are 21 things I want in a lover” (bloody good song)