Addendum.

But wait! Just in case you thought our lives were all fun and games and amazing hikes, I thought I should disavow you of that belief. The truth is, Ben and I are underemployed/schooled; we spend a lot of nights wasting time on the Internet or watching random stuff--a bad Norwegian movie called "Kvinnen i Mitt Liv" (women in my life), some BBC crime drama called "Lewis," "The Wire"--; we got up at nine this morning, because we could; and we have an addiction problem. No; it isn't pot or heroin or even bad Norwegian TV. It's Walter's Salty Nuts.

A chocolate bar. Not even a very good one by most standards. It's about Cadbury's quality, minimum 30% cacao content, says the label. But, besides milk powder and other fillers it's packed with the most delicious roasted, salted, and caramelized nuts, and on the label is a picture of a dude named Walter (Valter), who really loves his job. He even says so! So far we have gone through four jumbo-sized bars of Walter's. A jumbo-sized bar here is about a foot-and-change long. It's obscene. I keep making proclamations that we will stop eating so much sugar. Then Walter calls to me from the drawer, and I give in. It's like crack; not that good for you, not even that good, but you MUST HAVE IT every night.

Thank God I've taken up with the Mormons. Yes, friends, after exploring all our language class options we decided to go with the free one, taught by someone named Elder Maxwell (Eldste Maxwell), which meets twice a week at the LDS center here. E.M. is probably nineteen, on his two-year mission, and actually speaks really good Norwegian, which he is imparting to me for free. So who am I to quibble over the ins and outs, no pun intended, of polygamy?

In other news the chorus rigamarole is getting to me. Last week there was some delay so I couldn't audition, and tonight I showed up, did my thing--some scales, some pitch matching, and a rendition of my old standby, "The Mining Song" by the Cowboy Junkies, and was told thank you please go home now, we will let you know. Crikey. By the time I'm accepted--if I'm accepted!--I will have missed over a month of rehearsals. No real shock, though; did you know in Norway you have to register with the post office when you get here?

I am rambling; I'm also baking gluten-free bread. In a minute I'm sure Ben and I will do something like play bananagrams or start the conversation we have at least once daily: "What do you want to do?" "I don't know...what do you want to do?" We'd take the conversation to the bar, but who has $20 to spend on a beer?

Peace out brothas and sistahs.

Oh, by the way: if you click on this link you can play some game created by Walter's chocolate company, Freia.

http://www.freia.no/2008/spill/