24 April 2005
21 April 2005
Gleðilegt sumar!!
Today it's First day of Summer, one of my favourite Icelandic traditions. It's public holiday and this day people try to fool themselves and believe spring has come to stay, although it's about a month away. And since it's public holiday the town was very lively last night, and I, who don't go out often enough, danced the night away and woke up with a isn't-life-great ear-splitting grin this morning. To go to work. On a public holiday. Still grinning though.
I've gotten good response to my presentation last Monday and yesterday I was asked to do a presentation at a tourism school in Kópavogur, close to Reykjavík, on Wednesday. Sure I will. I've even got the presentation more or less ready so minimum time will be spent on preparation. Hurrah!
Off to lunch. Am having arteries-clogging seriously health damaging hangover food for lunch, yummy. And I'm not even hungover so I can enjoy it to the fullest. Isn't life great?
Photos from yesterday's party, a goodbye party of my former roommate Ryan. Yes, fun was had.
Today it's First day of Summer, one of my favourite Icelandic traditions. It's public holiday and this day people try to fool themselves and believe spring has come to stay, although it's about a month away. And since it's public holiday the town was very lively last night, and I, who don't go out often enough, danced the night away and woke up with a isn't-life-great ear-splitting grin this morning. To go to work. On a public holiday. Still grinning though.
I've gotten good response to my presentation last Monday and yesterday I was asked to do a presentation at a tourism school in Kópavogur, close to Reykjavík, on Wednesday. Sure I will. I've even got the presentation more or less ready so minimum time will be spent on preparation. Hurrah!
Off to lunch. Am having arteries-clogging seriously health damaging hangover food for lunch, yummy. And I'm not even hungover so I can enjoy it to the fullest. Isn't life great?
Photos from yesterday's party, a goodbye party of my former roommate Ryan. Yes, fun was had.
19 April 2005
That’s spring for you, Miss Þorsteindóttir. -8 °C, roads blocked with snow, the cold wind howling and biting the unfortunate people who must venture outside. Welcome home. People in the streets look like Northern Beduins, with their wollen hats pulled down and nose and mouth covered with thick scarfs. Instead of warm brown mysterious eyes peering out to the horizon with a faraway look, blue eyes look at the clock with a wish-I-was-far-away look, wondering when the bloody bus is coming – before or after their thoughts form a clump of ice and block the already slow bloodstream to the brain.
And when it stopped snowing it started to rain. Maybe I’ve just gotten used to it, but the weather doesn’t annoy me, as long it’s not too cold I’m OK.
A while ago I wrote a long post which blogger then ate, much to my chagrin. I´ll now try again, but then it’s time to wrap things up, I´m not going to post entries about the humdrum of everyday life. Well, I never think my days are dull but they are not exactly entertainment material.
I have now been home, really home, to my parents place. On my schedule those days was to sleep, read, visit friends and family, enjoy my mum’s cooking and do a bit of working, but as little as I could get away with. Like a belated Christmas vacation. The schedule was held, except almost no work was done. And it was even more so like a Christmas vacation because of all the snow, a white blanket covering the ground.
I then went back to Reykjavík, back to the grind. And I’m home in more senses than physically, I have even started to speak on the intake of breath, like my fellow countrymen. Isn’t this odd? I’ve never heard this anywhere else and I couldn’t help smirking when I heard a woman do that my first day at home. Have linguists researched this phenomenon?
The last few days I’ve been working and not much else. Yesterday I spent a couple of hours at one of my favourite places in Reykjavík – the library. After reading about history and current affairs in South and Central America I wanted something easy on the slightly malfunctioning brain (he hasn’t fully acclimatized and adjusted, poor thing), and in Icelandic. I ended up with lots of books, videos and audio books, Michel Houllebecq, Pablo Neruda and J.M. Koetzee will accompany me for the next few days, not exactly the pick-one-up-in-the-supermarket romances I was looking for, oh well. I also looked through travel guides on Belize, Guatemala and Honduras. The Travel Bug (yes, with capital letters) is a persistent one, no antidote found yet.
Last night I did an ass-kicking presentation on how to prepare backpack travel; the practical detailes that can make all the difference followed with photos and stories from the last trip. It went well, I’m exceedingly proud of myself and Powerpoint is now my favourite programme, my computer illiteracy is slowly improving. The day before I also did a presentaion for a bunch of Swedes, bigshots in the Hostelling world, I have accepted the fact that I’ll probably never get over the nervousness which twists my stomach in a tight knot before speaking in front of a group of people but as soon as I start talking I’m OK.
To my friends in Reykjavík; I’ve moved to an apartment on Laugarnesvegur and I’ve even bought supplies of coffee and chocolate, so feel free to drop by. I’m now the proud owner of a brand spanking new slick phone so I can be reached again, same phone number as before.
To clear out things from the last entry Diego Torres in an Argentine musician and hunk, and no, I’m not marrying him (although I would consider it if he asked nicely), I still think it’s a good plan B.
Right. Better get back to work. And more photos are coming up shortly.
And when it stopped snowing it started to rain. Maybe I’ve just gotten used to it, but the weather doesn’t annoy me, as long it’s not too cold I’m OK.
A while ago I wrote a long post which blogger then ate, much to my chagrin. I´ll now try again, but then it’s time to wrap things up, I´m not going to post entries about the humdrum of everyday life. Well, I never think my days are dull but they are not exactly entertainment material.
I have now been home, really home, to my parents place. On my schedule those days was to sleep, read, visit friends and family, enjoy my mum’s cooking and do a bit of working, but as little as I could get away with. Like a belated Christmas vacation. The schedule was held, except almost no work was done. And it was even more so like a Christmas vacation because of all the snow, a white blanket covering the ground.
I then went back to Reykjavík, back to the grind. And I’m home in more senses than physically, I have even started to speak on the intake of breath, like my fellow countrymen. Isn’t this odd? I’ve never heard this anywhere else and I couldn’t help smirking when I heard a woman do that my first day at home. Have linguists researched this phenomenon?
The last few days I’ve been working and not much else. Yesterday I spent a couple of hours at one of my favourite places in Reykjavík – the library. After reading about history and current affairs in South and Central America I wanted something easy on the slightly malfunctioning brain (he hasn’t fully acclimatized and adjusted, poor thing), and in Icelandic. I ended up with lots of books, videos and audio books, Michel Houllebecq, Pablo Neruda and J.M. Koetzee will accompany me for the next few days, not exactly the pick-one-up-in-the-supermarket romances I was looking for, oh well. I also looked through travel guides on Belize, Guatemala and Honduras. The Travel Bug (yes, with capital letters) is a persistent one, no antidote found yet.
Last night I did an ass-kicking presentation on how to prepare backpack travel; the practical detailes that can make all the difference followed with photos and stories from the last trip. It went well, I’m exceedingly proud of myself and Powerpoint is now my favourite programme, my computer illiteracy is slowly improving. The day before I also did a presentaion for a bunch of Swedes, bigshots in the Hostelling world, I have accepted the fact that I’ll probably never get over the nervousness which twists my stomach in a tight knot before speaking in front of a group of people but as soon as I start talking I’m OK.
To my friends in Reykjavík; I’ve moved to an apartment on Laugarnesvegur and I’ve even bought supplies of coffee and chocolate, so feel free to drop by. I’m now the proud owner of a brand spanking new slick phone so I can be reached again, same phone number as before.
To clear out things from the last entry Diego Torres in an Argentine musician and hunk, and no, I’m not marrying him (although I would consider it if he asked nicely), I still think it’s a good plan B.
Right. Better get back to work. And more photos are coming up shortly.
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