I'm currently reading a book called Skin, haven't gotten that far in it, but it's pretty good so far. I need to get outside. I need to get some fresh air. I need to go for a walk. I need to write an essay and do a report on Nevada. So many needs. I really have nothing to write about since today is Labor Day and I didn't have to go to school today. Tomorrow I'll have a nice and juicy blog about my day, I'm sure of that.
My mom's currently making jewelry for her friend Mandy. I'm so glad she has something to keep her occupied during her off days from work. Wish I had something as exciting...not. (: Well, Blogspot of mine, I'm going to get off and make progress with my life.
Rhythmic pounding is all I hear. Alcohol is all I smell, and my camera is ready to go. A single video from this night is all that was captured, but forever will it stay in my memories. Every time I hear techno music I’m reminded of early morning after parties and alcohol. Who knew Norwegians to be such party goers?
It is three in the morning and I am woken by a harsh knocking on the door. My sister, Mette, and I walk towards the noise to find us hearing many different languages. “Wait, is that Greek?” she asks me. “I do not know, but I am pretty sure I hear some Spanish and Russian.” I replied with a confused tone. She yells at the door, “Wait a second, let me put some clothes on!” She opens the door and no one is there. We stand there startled and puzzled. We then go sit on the couches while we suddenly hear loud music exploding from upstairs. “Great, sounds like an after party has just begun.” Says Mette unenthusiastically. “Where’s your I-Pod?” I ask. “I’m going to plug it up to the speakers so we can give them a taste of our music likings.” She points me in the direction of the kitchen. I head down the hallway, creaky, wooden floors complaining from underneath my weight. What seemed like forever, finally ended. I reached for the I-Pod and made my way back to the bedroom. I put on a really soft song and turned the speakers up as loud as they could go. Mette started vacuuming, figuring that her method was better than mine, and once the music stopped coming from upstairs she assumed it was her vacuuming that made it stop.
A few minutes later the chaotic sounds of techno and kick drums came back with more vengeance than before. The voices in the stairwell were louder and more drunken than ever. I decided to be brave and open the door, expecting the worst. I opened the door to find more than 10 people, of all different ethnicities, standing in the stairwell all holding Hansa beers. Out of nowhere a young man by the name of Norman sticks his head into the doorway and says to me, “Hey, want a beer?” His eyes were glazed and silly looking, as if he’d been born drunk. I immediately shut the door, scared and exhilarated by the amount of people standing in that tiny stairwell. About fifteen minutes after this happened, there’s another knock on the door. Mette screams, “What now?” I take a break from working on a thousand piece puzzle consisting of only smiley faces, and walk to the bedroom to get the camera. I hear Mette talking to Norman. “Do you have a bed?” asked Norman with a drunken lisp. “No” replied Mette. “Do you have a blanket?” asked Norman. “No, there’s a child here, I can’t help you.” said Mette. “Do you at least have a pillow?” asked Norman, not giving up. “No!” Mette said getting angry. He looks down at the floor by the door frame and said while pointing to a door mat, “That looks tempting.” She has finally given up on Norman and says, “Look, go to sleep. You’re drunk and annoying me.” Mette shut the door on him and went back to lay down. I walked back into the living room to continue working on the smiley puzzle. Shortly after her shutting the door in his face, he started singing, loud and intoxicated like. Mette yells angrily, “Shut up! Go to sleep!” I quietly make my way towards the door and open it gently, it making a quiet yet noticeable creak. With camera in hand, I start recording this hilarious sight. Norman is laying on the landing on the stairs with only his feet showing from my view. His feet are moving at different times while he is singing a Norwegian folk song. “Har du sett Per sjuspring dansa? Det var en, det var to, det var…” He sang fading away with each word. I recorded each second of this, laughing quietly, sounding like an old smoker.
Shortly after, he stopped and passed out on the landing. I ended the film, and I went and talked to Mette about how crazy this night had been. She agreed with me on everything and we decided that it was time to hit the sheets. I guess when Norman finds the video of him, he will decide that maybe he should watch what he does while he’s drunk. You never know who’s watching.
Anyways, now I'm going to be a faggot and take a survey. (:
