A Birthday Post.

My 25th birthday fell on a Monday. Boooring!

The weekend leading up to my transition into being a true quarter-lifer was nice. A date to see the Bergen Philharmonic at Grieghallen was lovely - simply because it was something different to do. Most concert halls don't allow you to buy drinks (at least none that I've been to), but at Grieghallen you could buy wine and chocolate and take it into the concert with you. Kinda like a movie theater. I thought it was brilliant and stupid. Brilliant because it's fun to drink wine and eat chocolate anytime, especially while watching a performance. It was stupid, however, because drinking a glass of wine after dinner, in the dark, while listening to classical music is a great way to get the audience ready for a snooze.

Here's Grieghallen:

Annnnd here's my shoes. I share them because I love them. (You know I love glitter pumps because I own two pairs - one red, one gold - and one of those was the shoes I wore on my wedding day).

I braved the cobblestone streets of Bergen to wear these, simply because it was neither wet nor icy that night - and it was totally worth it! A girl's gotta enjoy her shoes every now and then!

After a dis-harmonic, skin-crawling, goosebump-making 24 minute song featuring a violin soloist, I thought Stian would give up any cultural experience forevermore. But, after a good stretch and another glass o' vino during intermission, we settled in to see what they could do with Beethoven. In a word, it was magical. They were SO good! It was a welcome change in our movie watching routine.

After two glasses of wine apiece and a half-great concert (Beethoven half, only), we headed for home and were back by 10. On a Friday night. The Friday before my birthday. Um, excuse me, but when the heck did we become an old, boring, dare I say mature married couple?! Saturday and Sunday didn't change this new opinion of 'us' as we dropped by to visit some friends and meet their sweet newborn baby, and spent an entire day cleaning and puttering around the house. Yes, I said puttering. Puttering around the house is what old people do. Not two 25 year old newlyweds. What. the. heck.

I wasn't expecting much on my birthday this year because it was on a Monday, and like I said, we're old now.  But it was my first birthday where Stian and I were in the same time zone and country, and he spoiled me. (And rightfully so!)

When I came home from work, he was in the kitchen making a yummy steak dinner with a red wine sauce and potatoes au gratin. It was delish. I think he and I were impressed with his cooking skills! Top that off with some beautiful roses (which I neglected to photograph and are currently dying a slow death), and surprise tickets to see a movie, we had lovely evening. After the movies, we came home and had the one thing I've been wanting for months: mint chocolate chip ice cream. (Norway's ice cream selection isn't impressive, by the way).

A birthday like that on a Monday night??? I guess we're not so old, after all.

Potet

I just realized, I haven't introduced you to the newest addition to our little family!

8 weeks old!

This is Potet. (Potet means potato in Norwegian, and he's a couch potato!).

When we got him, we thought he was 8 weeks, but when we did the math we realized he was only 6 weeks when we brought him home, and not brave enough to jump off the couch.

Fears conquered, he now climbs everything from the curtains to attempting to shimmy his way up the door frames.

Still perplexed by the role of his tail in his life, he constantly chases it, bites it, forgets about it, and then starts the whole thing over again.

He's got one red potato sized spot on his left side, and another on his right hip. 

His favorite toy is a crumpled up piece of paper. He's so proud of it and he walks with swagger when he carries it around. It's the simple things in life, right??

He takes a wee on my blanket (and only mine, never Stian's....should I be flattered?) whenever he gets the chance, and is therefore left to sleep in the living room each night. Hard to resist this face though: 

This little potato plays until he drops. He'll be sprinting around the living room (causing terror and fright in his roommates...*ahem* me and Stian, that is) until he literally falls into a heap of exhaustion and then peace reigns over our home once more. 

I love his name, but I wonder what the neighbors will think when I'm calling 'potato! potato! come home, potato!' off of our balcony each night (in Norwegian, of course) once he's old enough to go outside. 

Uff da, Potet!!

(I just adore this little darling, but I also my Southern California cat Charles, who is being lovingly taken care of by my parents. Is it weird that I have a picture of him on my night table?). 

Just Sayin'...

...I'd rather have snow over rain any day.

It's bright, it's fresh, and it's not nearly as annoying when it falls in your eye. It's amazingly beautiful to watch fall out of the sky (especially the huge snowflakes!) and it's pretty fun to play in.

However, since it's Bergen, it all turns to slush and then gets icy over night.  I know I'd rather have rain over icy roads/sidewalks because I'm pretty sure a broken bone is looming in my future, but I will never give up a snowy day for a rainy one....

All in all, I'm surviving my first winter in this dark and rainy place. Reeeeaaaallly looking forward to the summer sun, though. (Forget Spring, let's go straight to summer!).