The end of an Act

I apologize for the time lag in posts here but since my beloved house mates did not give me the network key for the new internet at home, and more so because I have not been at home much recently makes it difficult to keep an up to date blog.

My second year has come to an end here in Dublin and I am yet again struck by this very metaphysical anxiety and despair that always enters my mind a week before it is time to leave - again. I have to pack up all my stuff, find a place to store it and move around, finish up exams and say goodbye to all those who are going away and that I shall probably not see for another year, at least. For the first time, I have just realized, people are leaving me. Maybe this is a healthy lesson, seeing what I have done to so many for so long happening to me in return? I wonder, when will I be sick of doing this? Never, hopefully.

Today is June bank holiday and we have a prime example of Irish weather going on. I have done a moderate amount of study for American history, fuck all for my Russian and Eastern European politics exam on Friday and I am going to meet Ildico for an hour at five. I cannot spare more time. Adam is gone somewhere to watch a DVD with his friend Esther and will hopefully come home later. I am secretly hoping that Quincy is going to be nice to us on Monday, but who knows. Progressivism long live!

Ingeborg-ingeborg

Ved aa google "Ingeborg liker" fant jeg siden til en som ogsaa Ingeborg og som for tiden befinner seg som ettaaring i Paris. Selvom jeg ikke er helt sikker paa hva det innebaerer, saa skriver hun godt om franskmenns oppfatning av fransk politikk og mennesker hun har moett, som imponerer henne og som etter sigende ogsaa betyr mye for henne.

Dette fikk meg til aa tenke paa og huske tilbake til en episode fra tiden i Frankrike da jeg, Ingeborg og min gode vennine Ingeborg, etter noen draaper hadde lagt oss under et teppe "paa Quaien" der Hilde og June bodde i Lyon og snakket om hvor fantastisk det er aa vaere Ingeborg. Heldigvis viser det seg aa fortsatt vaere sant!

I forgot the Portugese of the day.

Ingo é doente. Está queixando-se.O estudo é nao bom indo e está olhando para a frente para ir para casa a Noruega junho em 11.

'Cause the meteorite is the sorce of the light, and the meteorite is all we perceive

Long time since my last update now...

Well, time has been running away from me at the speed light and the year is almost over. 24 hours a day seems to be at least 8 hours too short for all the things that I would like to have accomplished by the time I conclude.

Study has been poor recently too. Ireland was hit by the same heat wave as the rest of the European continent since the latter part of April and sunshine does not encourage study, as the library reached a higher temperature than outside already before noon and the little of oxygen there was disappeared around half past ten. I keep telling myself that:
1. I have been studying more throughout the year than last year
2. Modern history is more accessible than Medieval History
3. I have learnt what they're looking for and I guess I will be able to serve them that, so hopefully I will make it through this year as well.
Nevertheless, I still hate revisions as much as before. It's not interesting, because it's not new.

On top of everything, I spend May day asleep in my bed and the day after I woke up with swollen tonsils and fever, but I had to go to college because it was the History Society AGM and I was elected the new auditor. I would have started my work straight away but I think I need to get over this little virus infection first... Went to a new doctor again on Wednesday and he gave me antibiotics, anti-inflammatory and told me to drink some codeine and paracetamol drug that tastes like høkkel and hælvete, but it does make my tonsils less soar for a little while so I can consume food and drink in small quantities.

I also got another confirmation of why I shall not prevail in this country for much longer, their food does not accomodate for allergics. Not a single instant soup without lactose, potato stark or milk powder and only one baby dessert without strawberries, milk or bananas?!? The biggest disappointment was what I thought to be sorbet pops, because that's what they looked like on the outside also contained milk and soya. I am sick of eating noodle soups. Adam did come around for a medical visit yesterday though, which was very nice.

So in other words, Ingo is Ill again. (IllIngo. That looks cool!)and exam preparation goes slowly. The weather has shifted back to real Irish weather ( read: totally unpredictable and unreliable, rain and sun interchangeably.) Looking forward to come back to Norway ( or go to China, or both) soon enough, but I have to be out of my room before the 11th and that's also the day I am leaving.

So long, if I have more complaints I will serve them fried, with a side salad.

What my name means...

What Ingeborg Means

I is for Irresistible N is for Normal G is for Goofy E is for Extreme B is for Beautiful O is for Openhearted R is for Rebellious G is for Grungy

What Does Your Name Mean?

Beautiful Loosers

Me and my genious!

Mad World

All around me are familiar faces
Worn out places, worn out faces
Bright and early for their daily races
Going nowhere, going nowhere
Their tears are filling up their glasses
No expression, no expression
Hide my head I want to drown my sorrow
No tomorrow, no tomorrow
And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I'm dying
Are the best I've ever had
I find it hard to tell you
I find it hard to take
When people run in circles
It's a very, very
Mad World
Mad world

Ingo is not going anywhere at the moment.

The Agreement.

Enigheten.

I lived as Anbiør for a week in 1799. This is what she looked like. Sometimes I wonder why did I not just stay there. Life was certainly different and it suited me. And I really miss that scarf.

Under the bridge

Sometimes I feel
Like I dont have a partner
Sometimes I feel
Like my only friend
Is the city I live in
The city of angel
Lonely as I am
Together we cry

But there's no need to worry. Why is that Stevie? Because we ain't got school in the morning, baby - no,no,no,no.
It feels like it's true though, nevertheless.

If I knew what I was looking for I could tell them what to save me from.

Summer has arrived!

Summer has now officially arrived in Ireland,with 17 degrees and cans in the Pav'!
Some of us where lucky enough to attend this spiritual event... But hey, there are three people and only two cans? Also, wo ist Ingos bier? It was a great afternoon, not much work done and then the Seder. I feel like a Jew, "next year I will be is Yerusalème", though in this case it's only true for Aidan. I will probably only end of singing the same songs in the same hotel in Pearse St. just before Easter in 2008 as well. End of Winters where there as one out of two Turminfeckers. No Muslims this year, but a few Irish Jews.

Assigments are still going slowly... Skal klare å komme i mål over helgen i alle fall. I morgen kommer Jon, og så er det påskeferie!

*Henceforth, three languages per entry is required by my Portugese lectorate. Today I opted for English, German and Norsk*

I feel like dancing!

Fikk gjort noen gode timer med study på biblioteket. Traff Kim som har fått jobb hos IBM og skal jobbe der mandag og tirsdag, så skal han skrive på oppgaven sin resten av uken. Vi utvekslet tlf.nr og email slik at vi kan holde hverandre oppdatert, og treffes for kaffepauser når studiene tar på for mye.

Møtte Aidan, Pete og Paddy da biblioteket stengte og etter mye om og men traff jeg Ildico og hennes mor på Café Irie. Det var veldig hyggelig å treffe Mrs. Wille, selvom hun var gammel og helt utrolig mørk i huden. Deretter traff jeg Aidan igjen og sammen med Pete gikk vi til The Porterhouse for en liten time før jeg hadde planer om å dra hjem.Men slik endte det ikke...

Jeg rakk akkurat ikke toget og tenkte jeg kunne ta en kort tur innom Manuel og The Goldsmith Hall Residence Association hvor jeg endte opp i timesvis, som alltid. End of Winters kom også ut og vi snakket om Primo Levi og hans bok om the Holocaust samt en hel masse andre ting. Deretter danset Manuel og jeg på kjøkkengulvet, vi danset sving, rumba, foxtrott, Wienerwalz og vanlig vals. Det var helt utrolig moro, men merker at jeg ikke er helt i form og Manuel ble ganske sliten etter hvert han også. Deretter leste jeg hans presentation on Cultural Industry og snakket med far på tlf før vi diskuterte litt mer med End of Winters og CouchSurferen som kom tilbake. Hun kjenner Ludwig og hele Clontarf, og var litt sånn Doris fra sør-Amerika. Omsider kom jeg meg hjem med elleve-toget, men kom hjem til et hus hvor noen hadde røykt og var pas contente. Derfor endte jeg opp med å skrive 1000 ord på nasjonalisme essayet mitt.

I morgen er det tilbake til hverdagen etter så mange dager fri...Skal bli deilig!

Fred over alle i landet.

Giraffen Georg er død! Les mer hos Dagbladet.

The Giraffe George (m.) is dead! He was a great attraction in Norway's biggest zoo and lived there for 8 years. He was born in a Danish zoo and came to Norway as a child. He leaves his spouse Malin behind.

Le Giraffe Georg (m.) est mort! Quelle malheur pour la Norvège et tous ceux qui aiment les giraffes. Il est né au Danemark, venu en Norvège il y 8 ans. Il laisse derrière une femme ( ou je ne sais pas comment on appelle les femelles...) Malin, qui sera toute seule au zoo.

Bourée de l'enclume.

My friend from Portugal said that is was extremely hard to follow my new blog, "one must speak very many language to do that" and I realized that I sometimes forget about the fact that other people might read my blog...

For the old one, still in Norwegian: tidleposh.blogdrive.com
Lenge siden sist jeg skrev noe der i alle fall.

Still struggling with what Dr.Lehr called sinus infection and rainy days in Dublin at the moment. Not getting much work done either, which is absolutely no good. Luckily I will be able to ask for some extensions I hope.

Tried to upload some of the photos from the Alpes but Blogger doesn't seem to support the format as they're taken with a mobile phone rather than a proper camera. So that's unfortunate.

Ich bin nach Irland zürückgekommen

Etter 6 raske og begivenhetsrike dager, er jeg nå tilbake i Dublin. De to første dagene tilbrakte jeg à la fac for å gjøre ferdig essayene mine, deretter var det overraskelsesfest for Marion på fredag kveld og Chantal kjørte meg til Andy klokken 02.30. Etter kun to timers søvn dro vi på skitur.

Frankreich!

Ingo is on holidays a la fack in Lyon

Finally! I found the song!

The Moorlough Shore

Ye hills and dales and flowery vales
that lie near the Moorlough Shore.
Ye winds that blow by borden's grove.
will I ever hear you more

Where the primrose grows
and the violet blows.
Where the trout and salmon play.

With line and hook delight I took
to spend my youthful days.
Last night I went to see my love,
and to hear what she might say.

To see if she'd take pity on me,
lest I might go away.
She said, "I love that Irish lad,
and he was my only joy,
and ever since I saw his face
I've loved that soldier boy."

Perhaps your soldier lad is lost
sailing over the sea of Maine.
Or perhaps he is gone with some other lover,
you may never see him again.
Well if my Irish lad is lost,
he's the one I do adore,
and seven years I will wait for him
by the banks of the Moorlough Shore.

Farewell to Sinclaire's castle grand.
Farewell to the foggy dew.
where the linen waves like bleaching silk
and the falling stream runs still
Near there I spent my youthful days
but alas they are all gone
for cruelty has banished me
far away from the Moorlough Shore.

I wish it was me!

She's got a ticket to ride

For å drepe på en søndag.

"Hver spiller starter med å skrive seks rare ting om seg selv i sin egen blogg, i tillegg til å angi reglene for spillet. Til slutt velger spilleren seks nye bloggere som "har den" og lister navnene deres. Etter det er gjort skriver han eller hun en kommentar i bloggene til hver av dem, for å la dem vite at de er blitt "tatt" og at de må lese bloggen til den som "tok" dem for mer informasjon."

- - -

1.Jeg er utrolig redd for rotter. En gang bodde det en i leiligheten min i Lyon og jeg torde ikke gå inn på badet.
2.Jeg drikker utvannet tranebærjuice til frokost.
3.Jeg elsker å danse i regnet og gå inn og drikke noe varmt etterpå.
4.Jeg er sykelig opptatt av polhistorie
5.Jeg har aldri vært i verken Bergen, Trondheim eller Tromsø.
6.Jeg elsker rare språk!

Jeg kjenner ikke så mange som blogger... Anne, Anna, Linn (er hun tatt allerede) hmmm.

The minor fall, the major lift.

Ettersom livet mitt ikke er så spennende lenger, har jeg nå tid til å oppdatere bloggen min litt mer i detalj. Dessuten virker det som om den blir på norsk igjen, i alle fall for en liten stund.

Så det ble ikke noe mer med Conor. Likevel er jeg mer enn opptatt med å ordne køen. Fredag var jeg hos Alex (tidligere housemate fra Italia, kjent some "Nice Italian") og spiste nydelig mat og drakk Capernet Sauvignon. Dessverre rakk jeg ikke det siste toget hjem, så jeg ringte Pete&Aidan som var på Messrs og joina Paddys bursdagsfest der. Jeg var virkelig the Queen of the Dancefloor, og danset masse med Lorenz som viste seg å være en god danser. Aidan viste også frem sine beste kunnskaper før han plutselig forsvant. Svingte meg også med noen andre europeere.

Lørdag hadde jeg planlagt å jobbe med essay men kom aldri så langt, bare var hjemme hele dagen og spiste lasagne med Dominic og de tyske jentene så jeg døde sakte men sikkert i løpet av ettermiddagen. Deretter spiste jeg kinesisk med Catherine i værste plastikk-kina i Moore St og møtte Felix på O'Sheas ... og ja, jeg gikk halvveis hjem i dag morges klokken 10.00.

Møtte en sveitser som jeg nå skal sende en email til!