three rounds of white paint..
did not do it for Lukas' stupid graffiti to disappear from our bedroom walls.
Last thursday afternoon-evening we decided we'd finally paint the apartment. Which is cool.
Not the entire apartment though, just our horribly painted bedroom and half of the hallway.
To all of you that are going to do some apartment painting in the future to come, do yourself a favor and do not forget to put something on your floors to cover them.
Also, do not think "bah, I'm good at painting, I dont need tape"
As well as painting, we did a lot of (then I mean A LOT OF) stain cleaning.
And it took ages.
But, now, I have a white bedroom and a brighter hallway so I can finally stop finding excuses for not settling in.
I did go to school a bit last week. I have some crazy classes now.
On wednesday morning I'm doing literature for young people - which seems to be interesting but there is a shitload to read. Which means I've already started. Or should be anyway.
Then I had Spanish civilisation which is a bit messed up. Basically it's both taught as "cultura española" for Spanish students and "civilisation espagnole" for french speaking literature students (which is what I'm taking). Which would not be odd except that it's taught in the same class room at the same time. So basically, taught in French by a Spanish lady. Spanish students are supposed to hand in their assignments in Spanish, French speaking in French.
Literature students were not there, because as a literature class this one is not supposed to start until 1st of October.
So, I was alone with a lot of people that hablan español. I was the only Lit student because I hadn't been registered for the class at that point, so I didn't know that as a Lit class it wouldn't start until October.
But I think I'll go anyway on Wednesdays this month just to not miss out. Spanish lady ended the class with a geography game.
I felt a bit like I was 12. But she was really nice and funny.
Then I had a class on Thursday called Québec literature - title says all it needs to say.
It was ok, however the kids are most on their first year in uni (which here means that they are 19) so I felt a bit old. And they talked a fucking shit lot. It was like a fuglabjarg. Which is an Icelandic expression, sorry guys. They were loud.
I felt like I was in Seljaskóli again.
Now I've spoken a bit about uni. Like I promised. I can also tell you about prostitues.
Two corners away from where I live, there are frequently very unattractive 40ish old ladies selling themselves. Which is interesting.
When I see them I feel like staring but of course I dont want to be rude, they know that everyone knows what they're doing. I haven't tried to buy them yet because frankly I dont think I would ever pay for what they are offering.
I also went to a handball practice on Friday. That was totally awesome. Not only because I wasn't sure if I could do handball anymore, but it seems like it's not something you can forget that easily. Not saying that I was some Ólafur Stefánsson or something but at least not like a total noob. Did not understand much of what the coach said but they were all really funny and nice and willing to translate for me when I didn't get what he said.
And now my body is aching in places it hasn't ached in 4 years. I feel like this:
Last thursday afternoon-evening we decided we'd finally paint the apartment. Which is cool.
Not the entire apartment though, just our horribly painted bedroom and half of the hallway.
To all of you that are going to do some apartment painting in the future to come, do yourself a favor and do not forget to put something on your floors to cover them.
Also, do not think "bah, I'm good at painting, I dont need tape"
As well as painting, we did a lot of (then I mean A LOT OF) stain cleaning.
And it took ages.
But, now, I have a white bedroom and a brighter hallway so I can finally stop finding excuses for not settling in.
 |
| 1. Painting over horrible graffiti. 2. I used my legs instead of napkins. 3. Making some tortilla pizzas. 4. Scratching paint off the floors. |
On wednesday morning I'm doing literature for young people - which seems to be interesting but there is a shitload to read. Which means I've already started. Or should be anyway.
Then I had Spanish civilisation which is a bit messed up. Basically it's both taught as "cultura española" for Spanish students and "civilisation espagnole" for french speaking literature students (which is what I'm taking). Which would not be odd except that it's taught in the same class room at the same time. So basically, taught in French by a Spanish lady. Spanish students are supposed to hand in their assignments in Spanish, French speaking in French.
Literature students were not there, because as a literature class this one is not supposed to start until 1st of October.
So, I was alone with a lot of people that hablan español. I was the only Lit student because I hadn't been registered for the class at that point, so I didn't know that as a Lit class it wouldn't start until October.
But I think I'll go anyway on Wednesdays this month just to not miss out. Spanish lady ended the class with a geography game.
I felt a bit like I was 12. But she was really nice and funny.
Then I had a class on Thursday called Québec literature - title says all it needs to say.
It was ok, however the kids are most on their first year in uni (which here means that they are 19) so I felt a bit old. And they talked a fucking shit lot. It was like a fuglabjarg. Which is an Icelandic expression, sorry guys. They were loud.
I felt like I was in Seljaskóli again.
 |
| I'm maybe exaggerating a little bit but they kind look like this to me. At least, quite tacky anyway. |
Two corners away from where I live, there are frequently very unattractive 40ish old ladies selling themselves. Which is interesting.
When I see them I feel like staring but of course I dont want to be rude, they know that everyone knows what they're doing. I haven't tried to buy them yet because frankly I dont think I would ever pay for what they are offering.
I also went to a handball practice on Friday. That was totally awesome. Not only because I wasn't sure if I could do handball anymore, but it seems like it's not something you can forget that easily. Not saying that I was some Ólafur Stefánsson or something but at least not like a total noob. Did not understand much of what the coach said but they were all really funny and nice and willing to translate for me when I didn't get what he said.
And now my body is aching in places it hasn't ached in 4 years. I feel like this:
Last but not least. Friday night culture shock.
Went clubbing.
Everyone was polite. No one was pushing. I could walk through the dancefloor and people would just move away or say "m'excuses" if they would accidentally bump into you.
At some point it made me uneasy. I'm too used to that huge crowd that surrounds you. You know, it's more personal... isn't it? Everyone rubbing up against everyone. Giving some skinkas elbow shots. Just for fun.
No can do in the big world.
But it was still fun. I might go again, but probably not straight after handball practice.
Now I shall eat a muffin.
Later sk8er
Miriam
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