Development...

Poster

Here's a first draft of the poster I'm making in the current course. How ya like it? Gimme some feedback!

CPR

Welcome to the most active blog on the net. Also known as the blog that never sleeps. Not.

Seriously, I'll try to get better with this or just remove it. Lead it into the light and let it go to the place where inactive blogs must go. Away. For the moment being I'll perform a bit of CPR though and get it kickin' again. Live dammit, live!

School's over for this semester. First year at uni went faster than I would have thought. Two to go though, but if they'll go as fast as this first one I can almost grip my bachelor degree right now. We'll see if I go straight for the master or if i'll work for a bit inbetween. But I would like to have at least a master. Time will tell.

Summer's finally here. Eventhough I doubted it would ever come again a few months back. We've had beautiful weather, hot and sunny. Just the way I like it! The only cloud on my sky is the mozquito factor. One might say that I dislike them as much as they love me. Alot. Come afternoon/nighttime I can hear a tiny little food bell go off as soon as I go outside, or open a window for that matter. They smell me miles away and they like what they smell. "Here's dinner children, make sure to bring grandma too", I can hear them buzz.

I must have been stealing lollipops off little children on a regular basis in a previous life.

Did I just hear a deckchair calling me from outside? I do belive so...

What you didn't know about me (or so I wish to belive)

Now wasn't this a great idea? Start a second blog when the fact of the matter is that I have enough problems keeping my Swedish one alive. But I'll get better. Promise. Cross my heart (and fingers).

Anyway, moving on.

I have recently discovered a new side of my personality: I don't take criticism very well (and this is when everyone that knows me open their eyes wide and says "WHAT?!"). It's true. Although I have, with age, became better at hiding it, I don't cry in public anymore. Much. But none the less I rage on the inside.

Writing is my "thing". It's what I consider myself good at, a bit of a natural talent, if I may say. It's how I express my artistic side. And it's also how the nutty artist in me comes out. Like Van Gogh, but with writing instead of painting. I don't like when people poke around in my works of art, mark on words or sentence structure. It annoys me. Greatly.

I have an early memory from having my writing criticized. It may even have been the very first time I wrote something that was at some level graded. I must have been around seven years old and I sat in my dads kitchen. I wrote a fairytale on tiny little notes and I was very proud of myself. Now I could, not only use my gob to share my fantasies, but make them immortal, in print. I gave the fairytale to my dad and sat back waiting for praise. And I was praised, but this is when I learned that there is always a "but". Very gently did he let me know I had accidentally made all my little "d":s into "b":s. It didn't go down well. My immortalized fairytale was made very mortal - and deceased - as I tore it into little pieces.

These days I don't act immediately on my emotions. When I get something back that I've written, I nag my surrounding to death about why, oh why, this isn't great instead. And how in the world could someone suggest using this word instead of that?? This in combination with a tiny, little dramatic streak in my personality makes me a pain. I greatly admire the people around me that put up with me. Especially my husband. What a hero.

Premiere

I've been blogging for about a year and half in Swedish, and it's just not fair to limit my worldly thoughts to just the Swedish speaking population of the world. Not fair at all. So here goes; an English version of my Swedish blogg! It also gives me a chance to keep up my English writing. Feel free to tell me how I'm doing. Any type of bad criticism will of course not go down very well. So let me rephrase that: feel free to praise me at any time.

Now it wouldn't be fair to say that I am any type of beginner when it comes to the English language. My husband is very much Australian and English is what we speak to each other, in spite of everyone elses recommendation. That is also why he, after six years, still feels uncomfortable speaking Swedish eventhough he's quite good at it these days. Oh well...

Ok, so this is a start. Spread the word.