Walk on, Walk on.

Can I just come out and say it? I don’t like Andy Carroll. Not one tiny bit. Never had and let’s face it, I never will. When we signed him, I most certainly did not drop everything I had in my hands to celebrate in pure ecstasy. Unless you count hitting your head against the table as celebrating, of course.

And now? Well, I am still not celebrating. Though I might if the rumors are true and that we are either selling him or sending him out on loan. Why? Because it is painfully clear that he does not fit in to our club. He cannot play in our system; is simply unable to adapt. The only matches I remember him being active and alive in, were the ones in which Gerrard played, and for me, this is not good enough. Not with Gerrard’s current string of bad luck (really, that man should just change his middle name from George to ‘Groin-Injury’ at this point- Steven ‘Groin-Injury’ Gerrard has a nice ring to it, too). We need a striker who can actually provide us with goals, as was all too obvious last season. And we need someone who works his ass off to try and give them to us. From Carroll I do not see this effort being made on the pitch. Usually, I see him standing in front of the opponents’ six yard box, standing like an ungroomed caveman (sorry for the personal attack on the man’s appearance, but this too, had to be said), with no clue what so ever to how to produce anything from the balls which are passed to him from the midfield. Really, where is our feared striker?
To me, selling him, or sending him out on loan, sound like a brilliant idea. But perhaps this is just me? It does certainly feel like it most of the time. 

But, while we are on the topic of strikers, I am very much excited about our new signing from Italy! I am no expert in Italian football (I prefer La Liga to Series A, but hush, don’t tell anyone), but from what I have seen, and from what I have read, Fabio Borini does seem like the man cut out for the job- yes, that was a lame reference to his knife-celebrations. He is young and fresh, and seems awfully hungry for glory and goals. I cannot wait to see him in action for us, and I wish him the best of luck! Maybe he is able to succeed where Carroll could not?

Other than this, we have not really seemed to be signing anyone, though it seems like this for most teams, I feel, this year. There are rumors about Welcott coming in (will there actually be any players left at Arsenal when the season starts?). Rumors about both Skrtel and Agger leaving us… Can I just point out how terrible this would be for our club? Why are we not making sure that they both stay, I do not understand. They have time and time again saved us, and they are our best defenders. They both even scored some cheeky goals last season. Letting them leave would be two very big mistakes, and I am for one, am pretty tired of those.  Especially if one of those mistakes involves selling a player to Real Madrid.

But summer is not over yet, and who knows which surprises might show up?

All I know is that we might have a long road ahead of us, if we want to achieve the glory we want, but in the end we will get there, we just need to find the right path and the right players to take us there.

So I say good luck to our new players and our new manager. Here’s to a new season and to at least making it to Europe!

We're all just pieces in the game

So... I've had a couple of dramatic days as of late, one can say! And here is basically what happended:
I have been ill more or less ever since I set foot back in Lancaster after the Christmas break. And I'm not even joking. I would be perfectly fine one week, and seriously ill the next. Then I would recover and the cycle would start all over again. On the 11th of March, I was starting to get 'the sniffles' again, and felt that I wasn't in the best of forms. I don't remember if it actually went away or not, but on the 19th, I was genuinly starting to feel ill again. I could hardly breathe and got super tired. As the week went on, I just got worse and worse and on the 23rd, I was just dead. I was suppose to meet up with Pia and her friend to go to town with them so that I could cancel my tattoo appointment, but I knew that there was no way I was going to make it. Come Monday after, and I was pretty much unable to move. At this point, I was slightly worried, because though I get ill rather often, I'm also quite quick to recover, and I'm never ill for more than a week. Yet here I was, with no signs of recovery and the arrival of my best friend and essay work looming. To say that I was stressed would be quite the understatement. On Tuesday, things have gone from worse to down right bad. I realised that I would actually have to drag myself to the GP, which is located here on campus. It is a walk that takes no more than 2 min, yet on that day it took me 15, and I'm not even joking. It was hell dragging myself over there. Now, most people know that I'm not a fan of doctors and stuff, but what I cannot stand more than anything are the GP's here in England. They are so fucking useless! I went, got sent to a nurse, who without taking any blood samples, told me that I had a simple viral cold that would go away by itself in a few days. When I ended up crying (yes, crying) telling her that I needed medication, because I hadn't eaten or been able to swallow anything since Friday, she just told me that it was nothing any atibiotics could do for me and sent me on my merry way back home.

I have never felt so bad as I did when I woke up that Wednesday. I was buring up, and throwing up blood. I could hardly breathe and I didn't even have the energy to sit up straight for more than 2 minutes. After Skyping with my mum, I got Rach to phone the doctor's for me, trying to get someone to come and see me, seeing as I was unable to go back to the GP. The number I gave her clearly said that it was for when pasients needed home visits, being unable to go to their local GP. Apperantly thought, it was just the number for the GP on campus, which is conviniently closed on Wednesdays, which makes utter sense, of course. After Rach had to fight through questions after questions (and an offer to do a questionnaire), it was decided that I would either go to the A&E or wait for the GP in town to open at 7. We went for the A&E. They got me admitted into the hospital, and I was suppose to stay the night and get better. Which I did. Until Saturday morning, the day after Maria arrived...

The night before had been a nightmare. I hadn't been able to breathe through the night, and all the pills they had given me at the hospital either just wouldn't go down or stay down, and that night I ended up throwing up this weird yellow water thing mix with pills and blood. It was lovely. And if I had thought Wednesday had been though, my god, Satuday was just pure hell. I don't remember much, if I'm to be honest. I remember waiting for that seems like hours. Getting to a room, getting an iv, being told things and then finally getting to lay down. Of course, that was too good to be true. Because guess what! In Lancs, they have to share their specialists, so this weekend, there was no throat specialist in Lancaster, and I was shipped off to Barrow in an ambulance where hours of more waiting awaited me. I think I passed out at some point while I was waiting in one of the examining rooms. It was around 10 in the morning when we had left the flat that day, and when I finally got settled in bed that night it was around 23:00.

As it turns out, I've got glandular fever, or kissing disease as it's also called, as well as a case of extreme tonsillitis. And they keep me at the hell hole that it Barrow from Saturday until Monday night. Which was great, because then I couldn't get any visits or anything from Maria, which was lovely. I did however, make friends with the old ladies on my ward. And I watched Bridesmaids. Twice. In the same day.

But I got discharged today, finally, after a lot of back and forth. And i'm glad, because I did at least get to have one really great evening with my best friend, which means a lot to me! And I'm going to miss her more now, I think, as it was kind of an reminder of what I'm missing when I'm not in Norway. I've gotten so used to not having my best friend around... But having her here was super nice and today was an awesome day and I can't wait to see her again this summer!

Listening to: Dark Days - Punch Brothers.

Mood:

Drained.

Now you're there cleaning up the mess they left

Wiii! It’s February! So much to do, and so so so little time to do anything at all! Can you believe it? In 5 months, I’ll be graduating? Wearing the cape and everything. It is absolutely mad if you ask me! I can hardly believe it at all. Though I do spend about 90% of my time thinking about it. That, and all the work I have to do over the next two months. I mean, shit, we're in week 4 now. Next week we'll be half way through our last term. When did that happen? I Sure as hell don't know. I feel it was just last week or so that I boarded that plane that took me to Manchester for the first time and I remember so perfectly the moment when I was standing there alone in my room, bracing myself before opening the door and putting on my most winning smile and going into what seemed like the scariest place ever; our kitchen.

It is so weird to think how long ago that was. Time flies by, I suppose. And believe me, it really does. I feel like the weeks just fly by while I'm half-way stuck behind in some odd way. I cannot explain it, but it is just the way it feels right now. I'm fighting to get through all the things I have to do. It is both good and bad, I suppose. I feel a lot more motivated to work than i've ever felt before and that if because of a lot of different reasons. The fact that I'm graduating is a big factor. So is the fact that I actually have modules I enjoy this term.

My degree has been a bit of a hit-and-miss if I'm to be completely honest. What I thought I signed up for, and what I actually did sign up for ended up being two very different things. I don't regret sociology per say, but I do regret not doing sociology and social anthropology. And as much as I love the people I have meet here, and the this beautiful and lovely town that Lancaster is, I regret not going to a uni that was not so old fashion in its teaching methods. I suppose, in a lot of ways, a theoretical degree was never something I should have gone for, but then again, I do not enjoy practical subjects. I love learning about society. I enjoy it. Society interests me. Politics interests me. Culture interests me. There was no way of escaping a theoretical degree. It's a shame really. Because I do feel like university... or perhaps these social sciences are all about theories, and all we ever learn is old knowledge. Do not get me wrong, history is as important as anything else, but how are we ever suppose to think for ourselves when all we do is re-write what others have said before us? There is little room for personal opinions and thoughts, and I despise that. I cannot stand this fact. To me, there is nothing more important to me, then being able to say what I mean/think/feel about a subject.

And at the end of the day, if I am to be completely honest again, I do not see how I am no prepared to go out there and find work. I do not see how I'm more qualified than what I was 3 years ago. Yes, I can tell you what Marx, Simmel, Durkheim and a billion other sociologies thought and argued, but when will this help me? I can write a 4000 word essay yes, but I do not plan on having a job where that I going to be much needed. I'm not going to be a lecturer. So what has my degree given me in return?

I find myself at a cross-road. At this point in time, I have no idea how to get anywhere. A job in the FA seems highly unlikely with anything less than a first, which isn't happening. I need a master, but where can i take it, and in what? International Relations? Norway, England, Spain, Canada... I don't know anymore.
But I suppose I still have some time to ponder over these things. At least for a few more months. As of now, i just need to do my readings and my essays and think about the fact that summer isn't so far off. Nor is Kyiv and Spain.

This entry ended up being a whole lot more depressing than what i had planned. I was all set out to write a super happy entry. I fail massively it seems. Oh well, I try harder next time.


Listening to: Believe - Safetysuit.
Mood: 

Thoughtful

So that went kinda shit.

Watched the CL at Fylde bar with Pia, Walter and Julius. I think my mind was always made up, I just didn't want it to be, if that makes sense? Because I want to hate Man United as much as I hate Barcelona. It's just not happening though. Because I figured that I actually respect Man United as a club (the fans are pretty shite though), whereas Barca? Never. There is nothing I like about the club. Even Pep has lost his charm after what happened a few weeks ago. Sometimes I think you have to set aside rivalry, and just remeber what you actually love about football. Barcelona stands for none of it. The only good thing about them is Bojan, who will hopefully be sold this summer. Dios, I hope so!

But it was a hard choice, because I love Liverpool y Real Madrid equally. But like I said, the choice was pretty much made. I will never support a team that says racism is okay.

And I know that most of you don't care. Actually, most of my friends laugh when I tell them about Busquets and just how much I hate him. Fair enough, I suppose. Each to their own. But to me, racism is important. I don't care about the situation, it really doesn't have anything to do with what's going on. I care about what's being said, and what's being done with it, which of course, in this situation, is nothing.

I just can't sit here and enjoy a match when I know just what that one player repsesents, what his team tells their fans as they don't do anything about it. I just don't know how I'm suppose to respect that. Because respect is everything in football. At least it is to me. So yeah, it wasn't the result I was hoping for, however, I must say that I never believed Man United would win. As much as I hate Barca, I do know how good they are. And they are good. What they aren't though, is unbeatable. So perfectly proven by Real Madrid.

I hate comments such as "Barcelona is football" and that everyone else playes "Anti-football". If everyone played in the same style, football would become ridiculously boring and dull. And what exactly is wrong with defensive football? Sometimes you have to play according to the situation. There is also a reason why defenders exist in football. Just so people know that because it seems like a lot of people don't.

I'm not done with my football rant.