Day eighteen – Childhood picture.

I'm still in Førde and the oldest picture I have of myself on here is this one

So, yeah that was how I looked back when I was fake red. You know I miss fake red. Now I'm boring brown-ish. And that bores me. So yesterday I went to the hair dressers and got bangs. Which was stupid, because they keep annoying me.

But I assure you when I was little, I was one cute little bugger and if I ever get my hands on a good digital version of myself, I'll post it.

Day seventeen – Your favourite memory.

I’ve been thinking about this one all day. There are so many memories to choose from. I’ve been alive for exactly 6 471 days, and man, a lot has happened since then. I’ve grown up and stuff, slept one third of my life and on top of that I’ve been going to school for what feels like a 1000 years. But I chose my memory, so let’s see if I can write about it without tearing you up.

When I was little I had a great-grand-mother. She was my mother’s grandmother on her mother’s side. She lived in a little house. I don’t remember much, but I remember that we always got the same drink. Rivella. I don’t know why she stocked bottles of it, I don’t know why she always gave it to us, the only thing I know is that I kinds didn’t like it. But I drank it anyways, because, you know, the lady was in her 90’s! It became a tradition; when we were visiting grandma De Jong, we would get Rivella. She passed away when I was about 8 or 9, but the only thing I remember from that funeral is my mom crying. I’d never seen my mom cry, so that image always stuck with me. It is the only funeral I’ve ever been to.

Anyways, now, every time I see Rivella, smell Rivella or even drink Rivella I think of my grandma De Jong. It’s like my taste buds have brains, because I get always transferred back to when I was young. And it’s like I am back in the little living room (and later the retirement home) being all adorable and showing my ugly drawings to my mom’s grandma.

Day sixteen – Your first kiss.

I’m not going to include too many details, let’s not forget that this is the world wide web and pretty much anyone can read this. And, you know, girls my age should not kiss and tell. (Because we get Sagrada Familia sometimes and tend to kiss frogs that never turn into princes.)

But my first kiss was of course before I’d ever been Sagrada Familia. It was exciting and clumsy. It happened inside, my cheeks were blushed from dancing and it was back when my hair was vividly red. It was crazy ass bananas, but fun. I probably wouldn’t kiss the guy now, but back then it was the right thing, I suppose.

Day fifteen – Your dreams.

I dream about castles in the clouds. I dream about drowning in a frozen lake because I can’t find the hole in the ice. I dream about the internet coming to life. I dream about my scattered brain being a maze. I dream about rolling off a mountain side, unable to stop and then crashing into Whoville. My dreams are busy and uncontrollable. They cause me to scream, walk, talk and eat in my sleep. I don’t remember about 97% percent of them and the rest is stuff I use to amuse my friends with. Sometimes in my dreams I am at soccer practice and roll my ball around in my bed. Asleep.

If I could choose my perfect dream it would be like this

and I would be able to walk around in it and DO things in my dream.

I would wear this

And these

But I guess that that'll never happen. Sadsmiley.

Days thirteen and fourteen - Excuse me for living.

Day 13 – This week.

The past week in three words; summery, relaxing, money-earning.

Day 14 – Bad habits.

My bad habits in one word; non-existing. I’ve been practically perfect even since I quit my nail-biting this winter. (I talk too much, I'm a drama queen and sometimes I forget that the world actually does NOT revolve around me.)

Random video.

I watched Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Part 1 again this week, and jezus, best HP movie ever. I will totally drag my friends ass to a movie theatre this summer to watch HP and the DH P 2, even if we are in England Interrailling and we are poor. BECAUSE I HAVE TOO.

Day twelve – What is in your school bag?

My schoolbag is lime green and dirty and about 4 years old. It is my pride, because I hate boring schoolbags. On a usual schoolday it contains my books, my laptop (I hate that fact, because my laptop is like 3 kg and enormous.), my wallet, agenda, pencil case, calculator, various measuring tools, water bottle and sometimes food. Plus some loose change in between all the pockets.

This is how she looks at 00.35 at night.

 

Znore.