The start of a series of unfortunate events.

I am not sure if it is considered smart for me to be writing when I am so emotional unstable, but when will it ever be the right time for me to write then? It’s not like it takes a lot for me before I crawl back into my shell.

My mum said I had a hard time growing up. I would disagree, I think she just says that because my dad was so much present in my life, and she just wants to get him on my bad side. I think I’ve mentally blocked my past, so this is kind of a hard task for me, but I am sure that the only reply I would receive will be “suck it up, foreigner.”

I was born on Norway’s Independence Day. It is a tradition to wear super hot dresses called “bunad” and marched for several hours before we usually drink, eat and play games.

During a march, there is bands playing, the newly graduated students going around and throwing cards with dirty jokes on them and shoot coca cola at innocent by passers with water guns.

Most of the time, the governor is in front of the march. When I was young, I usually ran up to him and told him I had my birthday, and therefore, I was usually in the lead with him.

In the middle of the march, there was a sudden stop. Guess why. My mum was going through labor.

I remember during my confirmation party that my mum said she had everything under control when her water broke. My uncle asked why she then didn’t finish the whole march.
I do not think my dad was there, my brother and sister was 6 and 7 years older than me. They probably managed to get the situation perfectly. Probably a disappointment to my sister since she always wanted to be an only child.

I was a quick delivery; it came fast, and it went fast, and they left with yet another family member.

They called me Katrine Louise. I was named after the redhead from Thelma and Louise, and toilet paper. Apparently my mum had to do her business, and figured the name written all over the toilet paper “katrin” was a beautiful name.

That was the start of my ridiculously self-hysterical life.

- Loulose

Lavmåls introduksjon

Hvordan var det egentlig at alle disse toppbloggerne startet bloggen sin? Visste de at de skulle bli berømt hele tiden? Begynte de egentlig med pangstart?

Det du kan være sikker på at dette ikke blir noen pangstart, tvert imot, kanskje jeg kommer til å ta en veldig treig introdukjonsdel. Jeg kunne stilt megselv en spørsmålrunde, men er ikke det en smule tragisk? Skal man ikke heller sette på blogshout (eller nokka) og vente på det beste?

• Hvem er du?

- Nostalgisk og selvdestruktiv jente på 17 år som aldri greier å skille i mellom om noen hater megselv så mye som megselv, eller elsker megselv like mye som jeg selv gjør. Så du hva jeg gjorde det?

• Hva slags sims 2 ambisjon ville du hatt?

Jeg våger å håpe på at jeg ville blitt noe i mellom en livsnyter og romantiker. Jeg leste et sted at jenter tenker på sex hvert 15 minutt. Is that accurate?

• Hva vil du bli når du blir stor?

Lykkelig.

• Hva slags blogg skal du lage?

Jeg trur jeg blogger kun så jeg kan få skrive, men jeg er bekymret for at dette kan gjøre meg til en RAGING camwhore.

• Hva gjør du på fritiden?

Det som de fleste andre gjør vel. I mindre doser, uheldigvis. Håper nå at blogging kan bli et fint tidsfordriv  prosjekt!

Fikk jeg dekket til det meste der? Jeg er også en utvekslingsstudent som måtte dra til USA for å innse at hun vil bli erke-norsk, ta opp gamle vennskap og begynne å respektere mora si.

Dette skulle egentlig bli en vittig skrevet innlegg så folk kunne tenke at jeg faktisk har innsikt når et kommer til omverdenen med godt vokabular for en sen 10 åring. Jeg leste til og med ei spirit artikkel for å komme igang (...)

Beklager for elendige bilder og pixel antall. Men jeg trur dette får frem noenlunde hva slags menneske du har prestert å rote deg borti?

- Loulose