Why I would love to work for the library

I am a journalist and a writer, why would I want to work for the library? Why do I want this job so badly. Am I not taking a step in the wrong direction in my career? Am I not wasting my time? You may wonder about these things. I don't. I have thought this through.

The news industry in Australia is experiencing financial cuts. Cuts after cuts. Journalists' work environments are getting more and more stressful. There is no time to worry about the quality of the information that is provided or reflect on the role of the journalist.

I am passionate about being a journalist because I strongly believe good journalism matter. It matters because it enlightens people, it matters because it helps people understand their own life better and it matters because it creates an awareness that there is something bigger out there. Good journalism reminds us that we are not living on this planet alone. Great journalism makes us want to change the world.

Very often I ask myself whether there is much good journalism provided around Australia.

Luckily, often I am reminded that there is still good journalism out there. There are still journalists passionate about their job. The problem is not the journalists. The journalists are doing their best under the circumstances provided. The problem is money. The problem is news organisations cutting where it hurts the most. They are cutting on quality. They are firing sub-editors, the last line of defence and they are cutting in editorial staff, which means more work for each person. In the end, quality will suffer and the financial situation will worsen. People will not buy a product of lousy quality. The boat is sinking and everything has been thrown overboard to keep floating a little bit longer. With nothing to mend the boat, it will eventually sink.

It all comes down to money and how it is spent. Quality has its cost, and quality information is worth its. Geelong has realised that. They put emphasis on expanding the library service. Since 2008 they have put several million dollars into renovating and building libraries and improving the services. Like me, they believe in the importance of providing quality information services. They believe it promotes personal growth. We agree, the library and I.

I want to work for the libraries in Geelong because I want to be part of the exciting development. I want to be part of an organisation that believes in quality. I want to help people find the information they need, I want to help them grow, I want to do what I initially became a journalist for. I want to be able to provide quality information in all forms.

Working for the library will place me in a positive environment. The energy I get from having a job that I am passionate about I will use to continue own projects as a journalist and writer. I will continue with Stories of Geelong and maybe write a novel.

When you need a sign

I asked for a sign and life answered. It always does.

As I clicked on the button to publish my previous post my phone rang. It was the library. I had been granted an interview, the woman told me.

Thank you life, I needed that.

Waiting on the world to change

This is a depressing post, I honestly suggest you don't read it. But I had to write it.

I am back in Australia. This time I am back to stay, not to study. I am lost. When I studied I had a goal, a deadline. Now I have nothing. No directions. I don't know this world without studying. And on top of this, I am in a world that is not mine. A world that demands all my money to let me stay in it.

I have to get a proper job, a job that recognises my qualifications and pays me well. I have big expenses and a student loan to pay.

This is the problem:
There are no journalist positions available in Australia, but there are several in Norway. What I am meant to do?

I have applied for a job at the library and I really really want that job.I want a job that recognises my 5 years of Uni and that inspires me as a writer and reader.

Right now I am just waiting for a sign. Should I stay or should I go? Here is the man that I love, the man that changed my life. The man I can't picture life without. In Norway are jobs, free health cover and my family and friends. Safety is over there.

I need a sign, a good sign. A sign that safety can also be here. Lately there has only been bad signs, like complications with my visa, health insurance being more expensive than expected, no jobs available and complications at my current job.

I feel lost.

To do or not to be

I don't know where to start.

I don't know where to start writing, so much has happened.

I don't know where to start my next step in life, I am done studying.

I want to write, but I don't know what I feel, I don't know what I want. In front of me are so many roads, how will I know which one to take.

On exciting times and coming home

It all seems to be happening at once. Our online news magazine Stories of Geelong is doing well, and Anna and I have great plans for it.I've got some great and exciting plans with Stephanie Tribe, which makes me feel a bit dizzy. It is all so exciting, so scary.

My days are filled with meeting people and observing life around Geelong. Then at night I write diary entries about my day as a journalist, data that is going to form the main part of my thesis. I am constantly focused, constantly worried that I am not doing enough, that I am not doing the right things. I am very excited, but at the same time stressed. Quiet stress, hidden behind everything, only I can sense it there, vibrating underneath the surface. I am looking forward to finishing my thesis and handing it in. Then I can allow myself to be a journalist, work on Stories of Geelong and just be passionate about journalism.

When my days are so packed with action, I enjoy coming home. They say that home is where the heart is. Coming home for me is crawling into bed with the best boyfriend in the world. Spooning, being held so tight I can barely move. That is home, that is where I, the journalist, take of my shoes and lean back in the big arm chair, Mozart on the stereo and brandy in hand. This is where I become little Mari again and I relax.

Accepting love

I did not think I deserved it, sometimes I still don't. It is hard to accept that someone can respect you and accept you for all that you are. I rarely forgive myself for my mistakes, it is hard to believe someone else can. I torture myself with memories years old, situations where I said the wrong thing or did something awkward, and I never got to explain or say I was sorry. It haunts me because I could not let it go. I could not accept its triviality. It is hard to accept that someone can know your mistakes and see your bad sides and still love you.

As your embrace at night grows tighter, closer, more protecting, I am starting to accept your love. As I walk over to kiss you after we've had a fight where I overreacted, I am starting to accept your forgiveness. As I look into your eyes when you listen to my endless monologues about my studies and writing, I am starting to accept you respect.

It is harder to accept love than to find it. With every kiss you gently plant on my face, with every night you hold me tight, with every "I love you" you whisper into my ear, you make it a little bit easier.

Turning 26. Getting older

I'm getting older. It is a scary thought, but I guess it's something we all have to do. Unfortunately every year we look at ourself and compare with others. Using the rules society has taught us we look at how far we have come, how far we should have come, what we have achieved and what we should have achieved.Growing up we make plans for ourself, plans for our career, love life and economy. We make these plans thinking that we can control life, we make these plans forgetting that they can potentially makes us very unhappy. Life cannot be controlled, we can work hard for our goals, but ultimately we have little say in the matter. I was 25 when I finally found love after many years of getting my heart broken. I doubt that was what little Mari with the uncontrollable curls planned when growing up. However, I would not have it any other way, the time I've spent alone has made me more independent and the scars I've been given have made me stronger than I ever thought I could be. The challenges I've met have all taught me something and helped me understand who I am and what truly makes me happy. I think in the race to achieve we forget to be happy.

Every birthday I think we should wake up and ask ourself: "Am I happy? Am I surrounded by good energy and people who make me feel good about myself? Am I following my dreams or have I compromised myself? Have I challenged myself and taken risks lately?"

My 26 years on this planet have been full of detours and one thing leading to something else. Never has my life had a linear shape. At the age of 26 I don't know what I want to do with my life, and honestly I'd rather not know. If I was all set and settled down in my mid twenties like I probably planned when I was younger, I think I would be very unhappy. We all choose different ways to live our life and comparing with others can only lead to misery.

And also, birthdays, like Christmas, are days when it is a little bit harder than usual to be on the other side of the planet. It's on those special days, when you want to feel extra special, that you miss the family and friends who have known you forever. Luckily I have Sean who makes me feel special every day.

Light at the end of the tunnel

I have not written in my blog for a long time. I'm just not inspired, I'm sort of hibernating at the moment. Working full time in a stressful environment affects me, my days off become my focus, my precious. Like Gollum I get obsessed with them. Don't touch them, ruin them or steal them, they are mine. I don't like living like that, I don't like myself when I'm stressed, negative and unreasonable.

Uni will start in two weeks and I can't wait. I can't wait to get challenged, use my brain, be inspired, change the world and be surrounded by people who still believe we can. I am a better person when I read and write, simply because it makes me happy. It makes me happy because I'm on the right path when I write. When we get to far away from our dream we get unhappy, it's the world's way of telling us to get back on track. And I will get back. I can see the road ahead of my, not far from where I am, slowly I'm walking towards it, slowly I am wanting to get back on it, slowly I'm gathering the strength I need to walk along it. The road towards achieving your dream is not an easy one along a sandy beach, but I'm ready for it, because an unchallenged me is an unhappy me. Like Paulo Coelho I'm unhappy when I've got nothing to work towards. I am looking forward to being challenged, having my extremely dedicated supervisor and my beautiful boyfriend by my side. Sometimes we are lucky to have people who understand to encourage us to stay on the road.

Yesterday was Valentines day and I fell deeper in love with the man of my dreams. Walking along a beautiful beach hand in hand with him, driving around in an old car he borrowed to surprise me, waking up getting breakfast served in bed, with closed eyes feeling a necklace being closed around your neck, all the things he does to make me feel special. Jeg elsker deg Sean.

While I read about madness

I'm rereading Veronika decides to die by Paulo Coelho. Paulo is back in my life and once again he's making an impact.

Madness is the inability to communicate your ideas
- Paulo Coelho -

Madness. It is indeed an interesting subject. Is there even such a thing?

Madness is not to be found in the mad person's mind, but rather it is created when the so called mad meets the society. A person is defined as mad because he or she believes in an alternative reality, one that is not accepted by the rest of society.To the mad person, he is the sane one.

I made a promise to always write in all honesty, and it is time I write about this subject. For most of my life I have suffered from depression. I am a control freak, rarely do I let go and just live. I am a perfectionist, rarely do I live up to my own high expectations. For many years this caused me a lot of pain. I looked rationally at my life and saw that everything was perfect, I should have been happy, but somehow I was not. The fact that I was unable to understand why I was unhappy caused me more pain that anything.

Over the last couple of years I have gradually gotten better. The last couple of months I have even seen a psychologist. Because I stopped seeing myself as a victim and realised I was in fact in charge of my own life I have managed to improve it.

However, the last four months have fast tracked my journey towards recovery. I wrote in one of my short stories: "A person independent enough to wear an orange suit would have a hard time falling in love'. For a control freak falling in love might feel like the scariest thing ever. We have built this shield against the world, we have decided to feel nothing in order to not feel pain, we detach, we stick to the safe. Suddenly someone comes along and asks us to feel something, and suddenly we feel it all, all the pain from the past, all the love for our family and friends, all the emotions we have not let ourself feel for so long. Falling in love has not been easy for me and I could not have done it without the most patient and understanding man I know. The man I love because he encourages me to relax and be myself. I love him because he everyday helps me get better.

I have realised that I am happier when I am a little bit mad. Mad is a label we've put on things we don't understand. I am happier when I don't worry about what other people think of me, when I speak what is on my mind without censoring myself, when I share my crazy ideas. I am happiest when I allow myself to be me without worrying. And I admit, I am slightly mad, simply because I sometimes see things a little bit differently to most people. For a writer, who's job is to create alternative worlds and realities, being mad can only be a good thing.

Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world.
- Albert Einstein -

All in a day...

... I had breakfast in bed with my boyfriend, I kissed him goodbye and gave him the lunch box I'd made specially for him, I went to work to get training in doing morning shifts, I left work at 9:30 am, I bought a book case, I put the book case together, I got a call from Anna, I had coffee with Anna, we ran into other creative souls, I put my books in my book case, I organised my papers and tidied my room, I sent some long overdue emails regarding my honours thesis, I listened to Damien Rice, I reread some rants I wrote 2 years ago, I got inspired, I did laundry, I made a "Anna and Mari's book of inspiration".

All in a day I've been Mari, the girlfriend; Mari, the cook; Practical Mari; Domestic Mari; Mari, the student; Mari, the writer; Inspired Mari; Organised Mari. And it's only 6:30 pm.

Boyfriend coming for dinner later. Mari, the girlfriend, my favourite, because it somehow has room for all the other ones.

Because you asked me to write

You asked me to start writing again. You told me you miss reading my work. You talked about how great it was during semester when I was all immersed in writing."Write a short story or something, or at least write in your blog" you said.You understand me. You encourage me. I love you for that.


My life has a very different tune these day. I work, work, work. When I have some time off, all I want to do is be with you. I've known you for a little more than 3 months. That is a short but very long time. I've got some amazing memories from our time together. Trip to Sydney, road trips to Queenscliff to buy books, opp-shopping, getting stuck at the library for hours because they had a jigsaw puzzle spread out, available for anyone who cared to have a go, getting to know your amazing friends and family, talks about things that matter, talks about things that don't matter, laughter, so much laughter, things I've never done before, roses, kisses, surprises. So many memories. You are a creative boyfriend, you challenge and surprise me. With you I discover words and sentences for all the feelings I always wanted to express. I've never had a boring moment with you. And I love you for that.

You're learning Norwegian. You're learning it with the same passion and curiosity you throw yourself at books and all new knowledge. You want to know where I came from, you show interest in the background that has made me who I am. When you whisper in my ear: "Du er nydelig kjæresten min", I almost burst into tears, so proud and flattered. And I love you for that.

In bed, we both have a laughing fit because you think the way my lips move when I say "lyset" looks absolutely ridiculous. "Exotically retarded" you call us. You make me laugh. And I love you for that.

You asked me to write, and I could not help it, I wrote about you.

Christmas time coming up

I have to say it is a little bit hard to get that nice warm Christmas feeling when it's summer outside and snow and family are far far away. And we Norwegians are quite fussy about our Christmas feeling. In the the weeks leading up to Christmas, it's all we talk about. 'Feeling the Christmas spirit yet?' we walk around asking each other. Like it's a drug, we crave it. Like drug addicts we do everything we can to get it.

I asked Sean if we could make each other Advent Calendars, with small presents everyday. He had never heard of it, but thought it was a good idea. Lucky me.

When he was serving me delicious breakfast in bed yesterday, the day of my graduation, he brought me my Advent Calendar. The first day I got one of those chocolate calendars my nephew might be a little bit jealous of because it's got Thomastoget on it. One of those where the chocolate taste a bit like paper, but as kids we used to eat them and enjoy it anyway. I ate the first and enjoyed it. Growing old can surely be avoided.

Today I got Paulo Coelho's book Veronika decides to die, one of my favourite books. Buying books in Opportunity Shops or Opp Shops as the Aussies call them is such a good idea. They are second hand stores like Fretex in Norway, all money goes to charity, and you can get books in good condition for a dollar or two. I love it!

A job or two

I wrote I needed to work all summer. I don't have much money left and I started to get worried. I decided to hand out as many resumes as possible. I don't rely on good things to come my way, I do my best to make it happen. I handed out 12 resumes.

Now I've got two jobs, given that my trial tomorrow goes well. I've started work on the café across the road from my house and tomorrow I have a trial at a restaurant down at the waterfront. I might end up working 24/7, working in the café in the mornings and the restaurant in the evenings. Pretty full on, but I am ready for that. I think I need to feel useful again. So life, bring it on! I am ready!

My good friend A

I call her A, she calls me Ma, together we plan to save the world.

Op-shopping, time machines, Clumsy Chefs, dinners for homeless people, literary journalism in bite-sized pieces, books of inspiration for writers. Our list of ideas goes on and on. Whenever we sit down to talk, thoughts and ideas fly between us. There is no way of stopping it and the word 'no' has ceased to exist.

I am lucky to have a friend like A.

To travel is human, to journey is divine

You can travel to every corner of the world without ever having been on a journey. You can see all the world's wonders without ever learning anything about the world. And most importantly, you can be on the journey of a lifetime without ever leaving the town you grew up in. As I see it, travelling is an external physical thing, while journeying is internal, it's emotional. Naturally, I'm into journeys.

Sometimes travelling can force us to journey. We arrive at a new place and the place somehow forces us to look at ourselves differently. I travelled to the other side of the world and journeyed towards a person I never knew I could be. Sean commented on the surreality of him suddenly finding himself in Sydney with four Norwegians he had no idea existed two months ago. I knew very well what he was talking about. Life can take some very sudden and interesting turns sometimes. And when it does we can't help changing with it.

You don't have to go to the other side of the world to start the journey of your lifetime, you just have to accept that life sometimes has something to tell you.

When each day is the same as the next, it's because people fail to recognize the good things that happen in their lives every day that the sun rises - Paulo Coelho

Beware the ordinary life

On the arm you wrap around me is written in ink: "Beware the ordinary life".

February last year I wrote a blog post called How routine kills the passion. I wrote about how scared I was that my life would turn into routine, that I would have a job that no longer inspired me and live with a partner who no longer surprised or challenged me. That I at some point will stop dreaming, stop journeying towards a better person. And that I will be totally comfortable with that. That is what scares me the most.

I did not know you back then. Maybe I passed you in the streets without knowing that you two years later would change my life. Who knows. It simply was not our time to meet.

We met on September 25. It was this year's first Grand Final Day and despite the lack of results, the people of Geelong were out partying. Luckily, so were you and I. I saw you in the crowd, you had a cool jacket on, Beatles St. Pepper kind of thing. So I turned to look again.

You showed me your tattoo and maybe I knew right there and then. Beware the ordinary life. Four words that managed to incorporate everything I for so long had tried to express.

Thanks to you I am now rereading my own essays and short stories and I'm rediscovering The Alchemist, 1984 and Extremely loud and incredibly close. Three books I gave to you because they changed my life and mean a lot to me. Three books you're reading with a passion I hope you'll keep forever. Through you I have rediscovered my passion for my work and frightened I look back at how close I was to embracing my biggest fear. I had forgotten why I became a writer in the first place and I allowed my creativity to be governed by others, by should do's and must do's. It is time to write for me again. I thank you for reminding me of that.

On the arm you wrap around me is written in ink: "Beware the ordinary life". The four words that made me fall.

So much to be grateful for

I like my blog. I like that I can type with my heart on my fingertips and have people understand and not judge me for it. I appreciate that. And I appreciate that I've found a man who understands how important this blog is to me. Thanks.

This morning I woke up to a bit of online activity. I think many people back in Norway had read my midnight rant and I got a couple of messages from people I have not spoken to for a while. And I got a simple yet powerful message from my sister. A simple heart under comments to my blog post. We've both been so busy this second half of 2010, we've barely spoken.  That's why it meant so much. Just a simple message reminding me she was still there. Thanks.

I wrote in my last post that I would like to drink inspirational coffee with Anna everyday this summer. Today I spent the day at Uni, preparing my resume, because I am starting to get very worried about the whole money situation. As I was about to leave, guess who I walked straight into? Well, Anna of course. We had coffee and she helped me with my resume. And tomorrow we'll have coffee again. I appreciate that I have someone like her in my life. In addition to her insight and ideas, I appreciate her non judgemental, positive approach to life and other people, I appreciate that I can tell her just about anything and she won't judge me. Thanks.

And I am grateful that I have been given amazing parents who are strong enough to support a daughter's decision to live on the other side of the earth. They are the least selfish people I know, and I hope that they someday will get the appreciation they deserve. I can only give them my thanks, and I hope they understand how much their support means to me. Thanks.

Late night insomnia and an urge to confess

It's 2am, I'm awake. I guess it is just one of those nights when you can't fall asleep. Although I did, I just happened to wake up again an hour later. These nights happen now and then, and I figured I might as well do something more useful than tossing and turning in bed, and I thought you deserved a few words. Although first I made a cup of warm milk with honey and cinnamon. Perfect remedy for just about anything. It's like mixing raspberry and white chocolate; you just can't go wrong with that.

So, what can I share with you on this late night in November? Well, I would first of all let you know that life is good. Yes, apart from insomnia, life is indeed good. I have finished my Masters of Communication, with the results I was aiming for. I have to share with you, I honestly did not think it would happen as I was slightly distracted at the end of semester. But slightly distracted is good, especially when distraction comes in the form of a tall, good looking guy. Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, Uni.

Uni is done, but not dusted. I am being encouraged by my teachers to continue studying. They want me to do a PhD. So do I, in fact. Not sure I'm ready for that sort of commitment yet though, and also I need to do an Honours degree first, as part of a thesis preparation for my PhD. I'm happy to do that, because as soon as I am enrolled in an Honours degree I am allowed to teach at Uni. Professor Mari? Professor Nilssen? Either way, I like the idea. I love it, in fact.

However, in front of me are five months of summer break.

Here's a list of what I would like to do: write a novel, write short stories, go to the gym everyday, cook some awesome food, produce some seriously innovative journalistic work, travel somewhere nice with Sean, read an embarrassingly huge amount of books and have inspirational coffees with Anna everyday.

And here's a list of what I need to do: get a job and earn a lot of money.

Unfortunately what I need to do will take most of my time, there won't be much left for my wish list. However, there will always be some light shining through here and there, like good writing, reading and conversations. It will always be part of my life, in bite-sized pieces, just the way I like it.

In fact, in less than two weeks me and Sean will be going to Sydney for a couple of days to meet up with Trond, Robert and Stine. A bit of Norway time. Looking forward to it.

Let's try again, maybe sleep will be ready for me now.

Revelations of an aspiring writer

I have realised many things over the last couple of months:

Most importantly, I've realised it is time to start writing my blog again, this time in all honesty.

Secondly, I've found out that being an emotional writer is a good thing. Like my good friend Anna said: 'We wear our hearts on our fingertips while typing'. I like that thought. A couple of weeks back I handed in a piece at Uni called 'What Truman Capote could not teach me about writing'. It was the most personal piece I had ever written. It was a piece I wanted to write, a piece I needed to write. I had no idea whether my teacher would like it or not, and for the first time I did not care. Two days ago I got it back with the best mark I had ever gotten on creative work. My teacher wrote it was 'an outstanding piece, it's quirky and original and warm and funny and mad'. She encouraged me to publish it. I was stoked, honest and vulnerable writing had a place in academia. Sincerity is not dead.

Which leads me to another recent revelation of mine: chivalry is not dead either. More about that later. Maybe.

I've realised life is too short to spend it writing about things I don't care about. Wear your heart on your fingertips or don't write at all.

And finally another thought (or rather opinion) I would like to share is that there is no such thing as a realistic take on life, we are either pessimists or optimists. I honestly believe that finding happiness is a matter of choosing the right truth. I don't believe in an objective truth, and many so-called realists and believers of one truth or no truth would claim I am delusional or naive. That's fine, but I'm not willing to spend my life in misery just because the world is a tough place to be in. I believe realism is the condition we're given, pessimism or optimism is our choice. A choice which in turn determines our happiness. But then again, all that is my truth.

I am thankful for the people who have recently come into my life to remind me of why I became a fiction writer in the first place.

When life happens all at once

You look at the girl in the library, crying openly, for hours, stripping her grief naked for the world to see. She is worried about a job, Uni? You don't know, but the whole world knows she is going through a tough time. You look at her and feel jealous.

It has been decided that some people are the strong ones, the glass-is-half-full people. You are one of them. If something happens in your life, you are meant to tell everyone it will be fine, you are meant to push through. And you always do, because people usually do act the way people expect them to. Good or bad.

The girl in the library does not care about what others think about her, she needs help and she ask for it, with all her tears and sorrow. You look at her and think you wish you were her. You look at her and wish you can fall. You wish you can fall and know that someone will catch you. Fall and depend on others.

Your life is falling apart, you have to be in two places at once, and you don't know what to do. You are falling but keeping yourself up. With energy you wish you didn't have you are holding yourself up.

You are looking at the girl in the library, wishing that you can just fall too.