Let's Get Naked

A few weeks ago I asked a Norwegian where I could find naked skiing.

He thought I was kidding but I wasn't.  It makes sense to me that this would be a regular event in a place like this.  There are only so many things to do in he snow and once you've dont those enough times you can mix it up by doing them again naked. 

I've never been one to take part in organized nude events.  I would love to get naked and ride a bike, go skiing or play baseball, however these things take planning and timeliness.  Both of which I am selectively successful with.  At the last minute I can decide to take my clothes off and play a friendly game of badminton, but if it takes time and prep I probably won't make it.

Since becoming an honorary Norwegian I've found that they like to cut holes in ice and jump in.  I can't explain and I don't approve of such ridiculous behavior.  There is no reason for me to stand outside freezing and whining whilst you flop around in the frozen watering hole out back.  Put your damn clothes on and get out of the water.  You got a problem.  These people will tie a rope around their birthday suit and jump in.  You need a rope so that your mom, whose making the video, can pull you out when you pass out under water. (makeshift safety vest)

It doesn't seem this 'winter swimming' is a planned event and there's typically no start time so unfortunately I may end up in a freezing pool of Norwegian salmon water soon.  Look out for the video and yes mom I'll wear my life vest.

Big Mac For Breakfast

Let's talk about Norwegian style breakfast.

Breakfast is basically open face sandwhiches.  Fresh wheat/grain/brown bread, sometimes toasted, sometimes not, with a layer of butter and an assortment of accoutrements on top:

• liver pate
• jam/jelly
• salami
• cheese
• anchovies (not exactly anchovies but it's smelly fish in a small rectangular tin can- sounds like anchovies to me)

No fried eggs, bacon and toast.  No omlettes and bagels.  (there are maybe 2 places that serve bagels in Norway)

I didn't eat B-fast in the US as an adult, however growing up it was hot cooked food or maybe cereal/oatmeal.  If I ate in the US after leaving mom and dad it was from the deli on 40th and Madison and it wasn't slices of bread with butter and cheese and often it was lunch food as I was too late for breakfast anyway.  So I would arrive back on the 37th floor with a plate of mac and cheese and fried rice from the hot buffet at Charlie's deli.

It seems most people in Norway try to sit down for breakfast.  They act like it's one of the necessary steps in preparing for work like brushing your teeth and putting clothes on.  The BF will be 'running late' but that's because he sat down at the dinning room table with a bread topping spread, OJ, milk and coffee.  Of course you're gonna be late.  My Swedish roommate in NYC, who is responsible for me landing in Norway, also wanted to sit at the table in the morning and eat her breakfast. Time wasters. (love you guys)

For myself, unemployed in Norway, I can eat at the table and take my time with the breakfast.  However this would not be happening if mommy Rachel had a job.  I'd be runnin around like a crazy person in the A.M. as I always have been and there would be no leisurely breakfast time.  I can acclimate to things like breakfast treats when it doesn't cut into my sleep and when it does, we go right back to a pack of oatmeal or a Big Mac at work around 11.

Reindeer Are Real But They Can't Fly

To think that reindeer and Superheros can fly is ridiculous.  They don't have wings or propellers or any of that stuff that helps planes fly and I'm pretty sure you need it.

I'll tell you what superpowers reindeer do have; the ability to not be affected by the cold.  All Norwegian people also have this superhero strength.

I was trudging up a long windy hill on the side of a mountain on Saturday on my way to a 'ski flying' competition when I approached a tent/teepee type thing.  All of a sudden I was standing in front of multiple horned, white, large, foreign animals.  Reindeer, motherfuckin reindeer.  Reindeer don't live in St. Louis or New York or America.  I think we all figured if Santa isn't real then Rudolf isn't real either.  Nope, turns out they also hang out on this hill on Saturday.

At the zoo you cant get this close to the animals.  If this weren't the case maybe I wouldn't be so floored when I run into these wild Norwegian animals (this also happened with sheep last summer).  It just goes to show that the presentation can make a big difference, like food.

4 or 5 reindeer just chillin with people walkin right on by like it was normal; and it is, but not to me.  I'm the girl who can't speak and is falling over with excitement making the BF take a million pics of me with Santa's transportation.

My fav reindeer was chillin watchin me make a fool of myself and then he just plops down in the snow.  I just bought boots that would keep me warm at up to -40C and this guy lays down in the snow like it's his fluffy warm bed from Sleepy's.  Dude seemed just as comfy as he could be.  It's one thing to see this in 20F but this day was -10 or something.  These reindeer must be wearing long undies, robe, leather jacket, gloves, hat and heated blankets at all times. 


I have to ask my Norwegian friends to forgive me for bitching about the cold and being so surprised by things that are commonplace to you.  Forgive me and please continue to just treat me like a child who doesn't understand anything, cause really I don't.

Æ Ø Å

To my excitement I was recently informed that the Norwegian language has been known to be the most difficult one to learn (thanks Roy, it's not your fault).  This lead me to 'go get um' by starting a beginner level Norwegian language class.

I haven't yet learned the alphabet or how to count, however I am expected to have full conversations with my teacher, Ulf, who speaks in almost only Norwegian.

There are some issues that I will overcome.

The alphabet has all the same letters as the English one but with 3 extra slapped on to the end and those three are no f-ing joke.   Æ Ø Å. Impossible for an American to pronounce but they kinda all sound like a version of O or A. 

I can't differentiate one word from another while listening to the spoken language. You can say a whole sentence and I will think it's all one word. Which isn't all that surprising as they have some crazypants long words:

- menneskerettighetsorganisasjon (human rights group)

- etterforskningen (investigation)

- stortingsvalg (parliament election)

- åpningsreplikken (opening line)

They roll their 'R's.

'I's are 'E's.

'W's and 'C's aren't ever used.

There are silent 'V's 'T's 'H's 'G's 'D's all over the place. 

and

'Kj' makes a 'shhh' sound.

This should be a walk in the park.

Table Of Contents- This Week (I think)

Studying The Language

I Saw A Reindeer

Norwegian B-Fast (extra love today)

Drinking For Joy - Happy Hour

Norwegians work from 8am-3pm. So what the hell do they do after that?

In the summer the BF would play golf. In the hunting season he would hunt. Now there are no activities after work that make sense and it gets dark at about 4:30.

Norwegians don't go to the bar for Happy Hour. They don't know what it is in fact.  Most bars aren't even open until 7pm. I tried to go to the bar at 6:15 after a hard days work of layin on the couch and playing on the internet and it was closed. Not open, lights off, door locked, no one inside type of closed. At 6. Where the hell was everyone?

I live a little outside of Oslo so maybe it's that my town is quiet and the larger cities actually have heard of Happy Hour. Then again Norwegians everywhere don't need HH the way New Yorkers do. In NYC we work 10 hour days that consist of yelling and fighting via email, phone and in person, no food and no fresh air. After this well spent time in the office, all the hopes and dreams we had for post work are shot and we just go to the bar. Of which I have heard there are 3,000 good ones in Manhattan. I only hit up about 200.

It seems Norwegians don't need Happy Hour because they have no worries. Americans have unsolvable issues that we choose to band-aid with the bar under our apartment, the bar next to work, the bar next to the subway, the bar on top of this hotel or that hotel or this restaurant bar or that one.   'I can't have children because I don't have health insurance and my maternity leave sucks.' 'I can't go on vacation because I only have 5 days of PTO this year.' 'I can't pay my student loan because I can't get a better paying job.' Norwegians don't have the same woes. 'I have 6 weeks PTO.' 'I have 10 months paid maternity leave.' 'I have no student loans and I get paid $70,000 a year.'

Really they should be drinking and it should be for joy.

1.Press Reply 2.Type 3.Press Send

I'm still shocked when people tell me they are too busy to call, text or email.

I've been hearing this from bosses, friends and cute boys since caller ID was invented and it's gotten worse.

Now that all channels of communication can be and are traced, tracked and documented, people have been forced to explain and be held accountable for why they have not responded to simple messages. Instead of upping their daily does of integrity as new technology has warranted, they lie.

It is impossible that you are too busy.

I know you got my text, voicemail, email. Unless some crazy Egyptian-internet freeze-dark ages- government control-Fahrenheit 451 crackdown happened I know that you got my message and I know you are not responding to it.

Norway is different.  They either acclimated to the parameters of new technology or they have always been nice and return phone calls and emails. Every job posting I have responded to and every cold call email I have sent seeking work has been answered. 30-40 emails and phone calls have had a conclusion.

The CEO of a Norwegian agency answered his phone talked to me for 10 minutes and then sent a follow up email. 

It hasn't taken me long to get accustomed to this.  It takes the guess work out of all situations.  'I sent an email yesterday, I may or may not get a response. If I don't within 5 business days I may send another email or give them a call but I hope they would just respond.  Maybe they didn't get the email, maybe they forgot about me, maybe I need to hassle and attack them before they acknowledge my presence'  As good as all that feels, I now simply think 'they'll respond within a couple days and we'll see what they say.'

It's impossible that you're too busy.  I had 2 jobs in college, worked full time in a restaurant and I could call you back. It's impossible that anyone is too busy to use a device that is handheld, on your person at all times and works at light speed. Apple, Nokia and Samsung have just made it too easy.

Unlike some Americans, Norwegians are not too busy to complete a 30 second task.

To all of those people who try to pull this 'too busy' crap, get a new excuse or get a secretary. I'm sure you think you need one.

Coal For Christmas

Gift giving can be a true joy, yet it is being convoluted and mismanaged everywhere and is most awful at Christmas. The best gifts I have received and given are those that are made out of a napkin and a pen and are given for no special occasion. These gifts cost little or no money and the recipients are happy to receive them. I am disappointed that we have let ourselves get so lost in the tradition of gift giving at Christmas. We are teaching our children the wrong lessons by delivering to them a list of their material wants on a Biblical Holiday.

My favorite gift this year was from Mommy Moore and was worth nothing.

Mom went to the railroad tracks where she heard a coal train had tipped over and she proceeded to harvest coal for her baby girl this December. When I heard the story of how she did it I was not surprised at all that my mother had trucked her ass up some hill, behind a school, in the middle of the cold afternoon, looking for left over coal from a train accident, to give to her daughter as a Christmas gift. I hope I can do the same for one of my brats some day as well.

We all laughed around the X-Mas tree when I opened the gift and we laughed when we heard the story of how it came to be in a red and green wrapped box with my name on it. 

This coal is with me here in Norway being displayed on a platter in our foyer.

What makes this gift meaningful is that someone took time to research and acquire the gift and they had a good time doing it. This is not likely the case when the exact green J.Crew Sweater I told you I want from the mall is purchased and handed over.

I'm sure iTunes gift cards and Playstations are valuable and appreciated in some circles, however too often I see them being expected and demanded of the children we are meant to teach and raise well.

Instead let's show them meaningful gifts this year, all year.

Santa Is Black

People are saying Santa is from Sweden, Finland, Canada, Alaska, Norway. I thought he was from the North Pole.  I am now second guessing the years of possible lies America has been telling me. I think it's too cold on the NP so it's clear now that he lives somewhere else, like a flat in Oslo or something.

The Santa I have known is black, not Norwegian white. Mom and Dad had me sitting on black Santa's knee at Christmas time in St. Louis, MO, USA; Mid-America. They wanted me to see people that looked like me since we lived in a 'white' Kirkwood, MO.  We had to leave Kirkwood to see black Santa of course.

S.C. travels to the department stores for the winter. He sits on a thrown posing with wide eyed kids who believe he will give them one desire they don't have to beg mom and dad for.  These children become confused when they wait in a line of disgruntled adults, sit on Santa's lap, stare into a camera lens, hop off and watch mom and dad pay the elves. 'Why is Dad paying Santa? Why aren't Mom and Dad more excited to see me sit on this strange 60 year old man's lap? Santa is amazing and mythical and he can fly! I'm confused' This is when the awe of Santa begins to fade for the kids who have half a brain. A lot of their brains are underdeveloped though so many continue with their fairy tale Santa nonsense until big sis ruins it for them a year later next to the drinking fountain at Tillman elementary school... thanks Kim.

If I discover Santa Cizzle is Norwegian, and if it is true that Norwegians are meant to camouflage in with the snow in efforts to escape the wrath of baby bears and people killing reindeer; then Santa C. is def 'Elvira of The Addams Family white'. Which is OK as I know he just wants to be able to blend in.

And he isn't tan either:

There is no sun in Norway. And if there is, it's covered by clouds and I am pretty sure the light source behind those clouds is some synthetic low wattage stuff anyway. If Santa were born in the late 1990s he may be brown however I'm pretty sure Santa was born back in the day when everyone was sorta still on their original continents where their skin color was all they wore. Now we have clothes so we can travel.

This is why I got my big coat, mittens, scarf, hat and boots and traveled to Norway. And here I am.

If all goes according to my 'plan' this blog will be comin at you from Norway, Universe dailyish.