I spent a few hours cleaning around today. I have attended University for three years now but I have not bothered to actually sort properly through all the papers, projects and books that were discarded as I finished courses. The result was a vast collection of boxes cluttering up a dark hallway until my mum went a bit mad (understandably enough). I therefore spent a decent amount of hours cleaning through it all today and ended up ridding myself of enough paper to make one heck of a Midsummer’s bonfire. There were a lot of memories to dig through as well since I found old exams and assignments  (some of which made me cringe) and suchlike. I ended up keeping most of my books though many notes and handouts were thrown away. I found one book in particular that made me snicker;

The Conditions of Social Science;
A study of the Social Philosophy of the different Social Sciences.

I kept that one to have something to scare my future students with.

We drove to our cabin after that. It lies a good walk into the woods, and this late in winter it can be quite a challenge to get down there, because when you are loaded with luggage you sink thigh-deep into the snow for every step, and sometimes you even get stuck. With a pleasant mood and some patience it isnt much of a challenge though. (On a random note, am now listening to some metal and realised that apart from a shower that is the only thing I have really missed up there.)

The bottom picture is our cabin complete with my dad in front of it, and at the top is the shed where we have the firewood and our fashionable toilet. Its a very nice place, quiet and quite lovely when the weather is proper. If the weather is crap you go inside and light a fire and play cards or something of the sort. We have actually gotten a small TV with a DVD player to it now (revolusionary!) so we can watch films when the night sets in.

Just for fun, here is a picture of traditional footwear in the Norwegian mountain regions. Theese are called lobber and are very warm and comfortable to wear inside and/or outside.
Tuesday morning I went ice-fishing (properly) with my dad. Now, proper ice-fishing includes getting up at 4-5 AM and dress very warmly and fill your thermos with whatever keeps you warm, get some breakfast down and pull your pack on your back and leave long before the sun even contemplates rising. Me and dad were wandering out on the ice just as it started getting light outside and we could see the eastern horizon get faintly pink. It is quite beautiful when you combine it with the magnificent nature, the fresh cold air and the silence. That alone is an experience that I fail to describe in words.

It was cold at first (though walking out there kept us warm) but thankfully there was no wind, and that makes everything much easier. Temperature itself isn`t so bad, it`s the wind that gets to you. Wind can make a couple negative degrees feel ten times worse than it would without it. But it wasn`t too cold that morning, and no wind – so all in all it was very beautiful. We started fishing somewhere between 6:30 and 6:45 AM and the first fish bit just before 7. I got it! I can`t describe the feeling you get when you feel the fish biting and hangs at the end of the line and pulling it up, hoping it won`t drop. And the feeling of success as you pull it up. And it tastes wonderful too. Just for the record.

Easter in the mountains is supposed to be a very enjoyable affair, and it really is if weather is on your side. There are few things in this world more likeable than sitting in the sun reading something and feel that the warmth of spring really is setting in. Ideally that is what you want to do when you come back from ice-fishing for 6-7 hours. You want to take a cold beer or something else nice out with you, sit down at your favourite spot, read a newspaper or a book or a Donald pocket in the sun and just enjoy being lazy. Me and dad did this, but the wind made it much less enjoyable than what it usually is. I shall demonstrate thus:

Okay. It was just a bit chilly with all the wind.

But it was still great to be there for a while and remember things from when I was a little kid and take life just as it came and not have to think or worry much about the things outside the little world one creates for oneself when you`re away from your everyday life. I feel quite rejuvenated, but at the same time I admit it will be nice not having to boil the water over a fire every time I want to wash my hands or face in warm water.

I have a couple things I should/need/have-to-or-you`re-dead read before the break is over, not to mention that Grammar and Phonetics have taken on a whole new dimension if incomprehensible the last week, and if I want to have a chance of pulling myself through the final exam without bringing paramedics with me I have to sit down with it.  Does sound like a splendid vacation…reading grammar…
On the upside. That is one thing I wont miss from this year once it is over with! I will miss the teachers we`ve had in that subject though. They are awesome, and its not their fault that I simply cannot like their subjects.

So, reading list for Easter:

• Huckleberry Finn
• Who`s Afraid of Virginia Woolf?
• Heart of Darkness
• the damned grammar

Its not too bad. Number two and three are fairly short texts, and Huckleberry Finn is a fairly easy read. At least compared to a couple of the eposes we`ve had to go through this year (1984, Jane Eyre, The Great Gatsby, The Scarlet Letter, Hamlet, The God of Small Things and on and on – don`t get me started on the poetry).
Still hoping to fit some completely ego-times into it as well. Parents go off to the mountains for a few days at least, so I do intend to pull a Die Hard marathon with lazy-bum food and beer to go with it. And move furniture with my loudspeakers.

My witty eloquence may, or may not actually keep someone entertained enough to check this site up randomly when incredibly bored or otherwise threatened on pain of death. But we all need places to ramble I suppose, and imagine our blogs as cities on the hill.

Today I am also going back to work for the first time in quite a few months. They haven`t had a use of me in a long time, but now they apparently do. I`m pretty sure I have forgotten some 80% of what I could when I worked there every day, but hopefully the basics should return to me within about an hour. It`s all about remembering codes mostly and which one to use for what. Hopefully the real demanding, tricky people will have better things to do today. Like shovel their driveways and other such things.

It is hard to face her thoughts and her fears and feel so helpless against it. I can take her out to do normal things, go to the cinema, or go out to eat, go to the gym or to the theatre, or go shopping. But I can`t take away the tears that will come in her room after I`ve left, I can`t take away the fear of what will become of her or all the pained thoughts of how she feels alone, and how much she longs for a day without anguish. It is hard for me to watch someone suffer and not being able to help. Sometimes I think I`d do almost anything if she could get that dream of being normal and that she wouldn`t have to worry about a life when her parents are gone. This job brings me much joy, I can see her do things now she never would have done when we first started to get to know each other and I am proud of her for trying and for trying to challenge the devil keeping her down. But at the same time, it brings a lot of heavy thoughts in my own head when I have to accept that I can`t make it better. It`s not for nothing they talk about professional distance – getting too involved will burn you out and you`re not helping if you become a miserable wreck.

It`s tricky for me because there is noone to really talk to about the way I find it. I have to find comfort by curling up in my bed with my pillow and just pretend it`s a person when I need to get it out. Not exactly what I`d wish for, but better than nothing. I really wish I could do so much more, I am somewhat familiar with how it feels when your mind becomes your own prison – but I still can`t relate.
It`s tough when you wish you could do so much for someone, but you`re just not able to. I really wish I could put some happiness into her life.

Also, winter seems to actually have a solid grasp on the world up here this time, and I am thrilled to say the least. There is something undeniably dismal about a Christmas without snow at least if you`re used to having it cold and snowy (like I am). A grey, rainy Christmas is likely to get me very glum indeed, but with some luck that won`t be an issue this year. Have spent an evening in utter lazyness, watching National Treasure, am about to start watching National Treasure II – Book of Secrets. Tomorrow will be spent at the library preparing for already mentioned final. And enjoying my last weekend as a 20-year old. Not that I believe next weekend will be that much different – it will just involve cake!

My memories of Sam are definetly fond, and though there will probably be times I don`t think of him as often I can never forget him for he gave me so much to remember him by.

I have just been very aware of the passage of time, and I know why. Sam`s been on my mind, one way or another all week. Sometimes he`s been right in front in a way that made me unable to think or do anything else at the time, and other times just in the back of my mind someplace, but always there. A lot of things have been reminding me of him. Down at my mother`s shop we have two fluffy llamas, can`t look at them anymore without feeling a sad sort of smile creep over my face. My favourite t-shirt has a text on it that he`s directly responsible for sending my way – the songs he sent me are all nicely organised in a file, as are all the e-mails from him that I`ve been re-reading.

I`m not crying as badly as I did the first two days anymore, perhaps because I`ve had to accept the fact that he`s not gonna attack me out of nowhere with random anymore, perhaps it`s because I`ve cried the amount I`m capable of already. But perhaps mostly because I know very well what he would have told me if he could. He`d say something along the lines of not wanting Laila-lady to cry because that`d make him sad, and that he`d much rather have me chuckle at his silly stuff and be merry. By this point he would have gone past his quota of serious for a day and made a joke to try to make me laugh. He would probably have succeeded too.

Sam suffered from MD, so we all knew that there was a chance he would be gone sooner than any of us wished for, but it still came as a complete shock to read that message, and I read it over and over, not wanting to believe it – just hoping it was all a cruel joke. But you don`t joke about stuff like that.

I know how people, when they loose someone unexpectedly, suddenly finds out how short life really is, and they start talking about it in a way suggesting they had never thought of it before. I understand what they mean now. Sam was only 20 years old, he had still a lot of things to give to life, none of us were prepared to loose him just yet -  and suddenly he`s gone, taking his wonderful, winning character with him. Life is short, and I sit behind wishing I had let him know how much I cared about him more often than I did. It`s not that I think he wasn`t aware of how much he meant to me – but there were times I could have told him but didn`t. And now I can`t.
It has showed me its important to let people know how much they mean to you, even if they are perfectly healthy and likely to live to ripe old age, because you never know if they will. What if suddenly something happens, and all the things you were going to tell them one day was left unsaid because you thought you had all the time in the world? What if someone dies never knowing how much you cared?

Sam wasn’t afraid to love people, he wasn’t afraid to shower them with affection and random acts of immense kindness. Life hadn’t corrupted him enough for him to prefer to keep people guessing at his feelings. If he had thought about me every day for a week he told me so and if there was some picture I looked beautiful in – I was told. He never let me doubt for even a second that I was an important person in his life, and I loved him all the more for it. And I hope, I hope so intensely that he also knew how much he meant to me, even if there were times I did not say so.

Live like you mean it and love til you feel it. Sam lived by that and I can`t imagine that anyone who was touched by his care, thoughtfulness, kindness and affection won`t feel like there is something missing now that he is gone.

Sam was a wonderful friend, with a heartwarming, winning way about him. He was witty and beyond kind, to put a smile on the face of everyone he met seemed to be one of his greatest goals in life sometimes. He was sincere in a way that few other people are. I remember that especially well, because once we talked about crushing on people. We all know how that feels, if someone tries to prod us into talking about that person we feel our face heat up and an intense urge to brush it off as someone you don`t "think about like that.".
Sam didn’t do that. He said that talking about it made him feel giddy and tingly and that his face was warm.
I will miss his sincerity, I will miss the way he always tried to crack me up with silly stuff if I felt a bit glum. I`m gonna miss seeing e-mails drop into my inbox on crappy days. I`m gonna miss listening to him talk about all kinds of silly in audio-chats. I will miss comparing University professors. I will miss how he always teased me after I finished midterms with great results about how I had refused to believe him when he assured me I would be fine. I`m going to miss, how he every day I knew him made me feel special just through the knowledge that he was out there in the world and caring about me.

He hardly ever complained about the disease he had to live with, it seemed like the only problems it caused him was the occasional aches and pains from having to be static all day long. Just a very few times did he let me see that it actually bothered him for more than that. Despite the things he had to live with, he could always listen to trifles of everyday problems and see you through whatever bothered you. And he did it in a way that never made you feel awkward of talking to him about superficial problems. Sam was unique, kind and wonderful, he was witty, smart and affectionate and it really feels like I have lost something special in my life, one of the best friends I have ever had.

I am going to miss you Sam, and I hope you never doubted how much I always cared about you.
And I did do well on those midterms – but you knew that already, you always had faith in me.