🇳🇴❤️
Norway is dreaming.
From hotel lobbies to shopping streets, the excitement is everywhere. Flags are out, smiles are everywhere, and the whole country is behind its team. What a fantastic atmosphere! 👏⚽
#Norway#HeiaNorge#WorldCup2026#Football#FanMoments#GoodVibes
Story time.
2022.
It was the first day of my fifth class in culinary school.
Chef was going around asking the students who they are and why they are in culinary school. If a student was vague, he’d ask more questions. So I started making notes. And doodling.
When he got to me, I said ‘I’m a microgreens farmer and am in culinary nutrition to learn more. I’ve experienced the healing of food an want to help more people. I’m a blank canvas, no bad habits in the kitchen to make bc I didnt grow up with anyone who knew how to cook. I recognize food insecurity in this nation. I recognize food deserts , and poisons legally marketed and sold as food. I’m going to build a nonprofit with revenue streams bc I’m tired of waiting for leaders to lead.
If I have the ability to do something, I have the moral obligation to do something.
Culinary school is a chess piece.’
I went down my notes and explained how culinary school would help me achieve these goals, with the bigger goal of healing people with food.
He became excited about my goals and told he just went to a speech a few months ago and it was one of the best speeches he’d ever seen. She was a microgreens farmer. Veteran. Really knew her stuff and changed the way he viewed microgreens, and the power of them. That he was going to ask another chef to get me in contact with her, because she was kind and knew her stuff.
I dropped my mask to my chin and asked if he was referring to my company? He exploded with joy and laughter because yes.
Laughed that it was so cool that he wanted to introduce me to me. Told me to stay after class bc he wanted to talk to me.
After class, he said he meant every word. He was moved by my speech, was honored to have me in his class, and wanted to help in any way because he believes in what I’m doing.
I went to culinary school because my shadow said nobody will listen to a nerd, with no degree and my light said they’ll listen to a chef. My shadow said I hate cooking, my light said bc I don’t know what I’m doing and who better to learn from than masters?
My light said behold! What healing when experts said there wasn’t going to be. What hope ignited, when I realized the future isn’t bleak.
And what lives changed, bc my people saw my before and my after and they wanted to know more. And they made changes in their life. From there, they shared.
And from their share, their people became inspired and made changes. Some connected to me for guidance. And then they connects me to their extensions.
Ripples. Ripples amplify ripples.
I found this paper a few weeks ago, and put it on my board to remind me. Vision. In my view and forward of my mind.
Yesterday I was met with a roadblock. Overwhelming physical stress response, and it’s weird bc my mind locked in and got to work. I transferred that energy to my fingers, keyboard and mouse.
My roadblock was the Virginia Military Survivor and Dependent Education Program. The application asked when I got accepted to school. 2017.
I planned to return to the community college to retake some classes before transferring to the university to study biomedical science. A returning student doesn’t have to reapply.
2017. The VMSDEP program requires proof of residency (?) four years prior to acceptance date. 2013.
I asked, I have to prove 13 years of residency? He said normally no, it’s ridiculous. But the system doesn’t recognize context and requires x amount of years prior. That this situation is weird.
I burned my 2013 tax things literally this past winter. 😂
I decided. FINE. And applied to the university bc the application date would be 2026, and I have 2022 information😂
And then I found out not only will I not have to use this education benefit, bc of grants and waivers through the school, I’ll also get paid. There is SO much free money.
I know at the latest, I start in January. Biomedical Science, focusing on metabolic disease.
You guys have no idea how insane it sounds to us Norwegians when you say you’re rooting for us and hoping we’ll win the World Cup! There are fewer people in the whole of Norway than there are in London alone, and every single one of us couldn’t be prouder. Not just because of Haaland, but because of the entire team. They’re a team in every sense of the word! 💪🏻🇳🇴
Fuck bullies. Step up and protect people being bulled; be a leader.
Upon learning that a young Brazilian fan is getting bullied because of his long hair, Erling Haaland recorded a birthday message for him, praising the hairstyle and telling him to ignore the negativity.
Haaland has the most magnetic aura because:
-He's disciplined
-He takes care of himself
-He treats his body like a temple
-He's goofy
-He laughs at himself
-He doesn't care how he's perceived
-He's kind to animals
-He's family oriented
-He's masculine but not performative
Well. My team is out.
Belgium sent us home 4 to 1, and I have made my peace by eating a waffle out of pure spite.
So now I watch the rest for the love of the game. And I have picked a horse. Well. Actually, I picked a longboat.
I am riding with Norway. Five and a half million Vikings against the entire world, led by that six foot four Norse god Erling Håland, who already threw Brazil off a cliff on Sunday. Do not act like you are not watching too.
Now, some perspective, because people forget how hard this thing is to win.
In 96 years, only eight nations have ever lifted the World Cup.
Brazil, 5. Germany, 4. Italy, 4. Argentina, 3. Uruguay, 2. France, 2. England, 1. Spain, 1.
That is the entire list. And here is the joke nobody says out loud.
Every single one is from Europe or South America. Every winner, every finalist, 96 years running, two continents. The Dutch, the Hungarians, the Swedes, the Czechs, all European bridesmaids. Nobody else has ever even reached the final.
So let us be honest about what this actually is. The World Cup is a European and South American Cup, and the rest of the planet gets a lovely invitation to come lose in the group stage.
And before anyone cries, we would do the exact same thing. Give us a World Championship of American Football and it plays out identically, just with the flag flipped. Sure, Belgium shows up. Curaçao shows up. Everybody gets a jersey and a nice hotel. And they all go home in a barrel. Even Canada, right next door, cannot hang, because they are off playing their mutant cousin version with three downs and a field the size of an airport. Bless them. It is almost football.
That is what a home sport looks like. The World Cup is just soccer’s version of it.
And two of the names on that trophy belong to countries that do not even exist anymore. West Germany won three titles before the wall came down. Czechoslovakia reached two finals before it split in half and vanished off the map. Whole nations came, competed, and disappeared, and the trophy outlived them.
So here is where we are, and the bracket does not care about your feelings.
Argentina still has to get past Egypt today. Switzerland draws Colombia today. Then France gets Morocco, Spain gets Belgium, and my Norway gets England.
You have to pick one. Everybody does. And it says everything about you.
Some of you will pick the favorite. The safe money. The chalk.
And some of you will ride the long shot, the little country nobody believes in.
So which are you.
The one who confidently picked the Soviet Union to win gold in 1980, right up until a bunch of American college kids walked onto the ice and ruined your whole afternoon?
Or the one who always, always bets on the miracle?
I know my answer. Five million Vikings and a thunder god.
Skål. Let’s ride.
Machiavelli said, make mistakes of ambition not mistakes of sloth.
At least when you make a mistake it's because you're moving energy.
Ironically you will be criticized by sloths, who don't move at all.
Why aren’t we having daily discussions about the fact that “elite” people eat babies?
Because humans are barely in their bodies. The average human eats slop & is strung out on caffeine.
Until humans live correctly & land in their vessels humanity will be lost.
🌼 Meet Daisy — the giant, escape-artist, trash-panda porch cow and absolute best friend to her favorite human on the Dakota Funny Farm! Born in December 2023, this sweet girl decided her person was hers from just 3 days old. She kept busting through fences to find her… so they finally gave in and let her claim the porch as home.
She’s more Labrador retriever than cow — her person’s therapy, constant shadow, and the best soulmate a farm girl could ask for. 🐮❤️