sunday thought

I want to talk to God. I want to ask him to send more people who smile in my way.

lone wolf in lone wolf country

No gold for Finland these Winter Olympic Games. But...

The nation with most Olympic medals, throughout the history of the Olympic Games, is… Finland! If you count medals per capita, Finland is way, way ahead of any other nation. I read this with delight in Richard D. Lewis’ fascinating book Finland, Cultural Lone Wolf, a much-needed comfort after many Olympic disappointments this year.

This book makes me grow an inch or so as a Finn. The author (who is English) claims Finland ranks among the top few countries for global competitiveness, economic creativity, environmental sustainability, network readiness, water resource management, minimal bureaucracy, and least corruption. So there. (OK, I'm not so sure about the minimal bureacracy part.)

On Finns, he says we are independent, hard working, innovative, ultra-honest, shy and love our own space. We think before we speak and what we say, we mean. Finnish women are among the most highly educated and equal in the world.

Interestingly, the author also claims the Finns have a feeling of being outsiders, on account of our geographical remoteness, weird language and a few other factors.

I am intrigued. Having lived abroad for years and noticed characteristics in me that set me apart from others, I suddenly realise at least some of these can be explaned by the fact that I am a Finn! It's comforting somehow. That feeling of being an outsider has definitely haunted me - on the other hand, it's haunting me still, here in my home country and home town.

Best of all, I just love how this book describes the Finnish female: "strong-willed, adventurous, restless, often fearless, not without charm, and decidedly in love with life." I am guilty as charged. And proud of it.

shame and shamrocks

The Guinness looks the same. Other Irish beers look familiar but have funny names. Are they real? I'm too embarrassed to ask the barman who has had his face painted green. His huge weird hat looks authentic, as if he has come straight from the parade on O'Connell Street, Dublin. But he speaks Finnish and Swedish and some English, and his name is Jarkko. Welcome to St. Patrick's Day! We are in a medium-sized city in Finland.

I don't like beer anyway. I guess I could and would start liking it if I really wanted to, and sometimes I'm tempted to try. But beer is not good for the figure. Neither is cider, or wine, or vodka with a mixer... I give up and order a reassuringly sweetish Finnish cider.

I'm here with a guy who is clearly interested in me but who is trying to not to be obvious about it since he is a bit too shy to tell me so. Why are these things so complicated? He is sweet and I would love to get to know him better... but I'm still hung up on my ex, whom I saw yesterday and shared a lunch, some secrets and quite a few laughs with. How can I trust my shaky life to a stranger like this one?

There are no Irish people - as far as I can tell - in this Irish bar on St. Patrick's day. The closest you get is a few drunk Swedish football supporters who are having no luck trying to chat up some icy Finnish ladies. A band is playing "Dirty Old Town" but I can hardly hear them. I can hardly hear my date's voice when we try to chat. How embarrassing. What a boring evening. I can't even get drunk on the stupid cider. I hate the stupid ugly shamrock decorations on the wall. I want a real Irish bar in a backstreet in Galway or in a sleepy village in Wicklow. The only speck of light is the doorman who hands me back my coat at the end of the failed evening - I have a secret crush on him. I say a hasty farewell to my date and leave before he can get any ideas about kissing me. I'm not ready for this.

I'm not ready for anything. I want an easy life and no male hormones nearby.

God brought breakfast

Oh the bittersweet Longing of my soul. I dream of coercion and care and of what I cannot have. When I wake up I grieve.

I want God to ring my doorbell today. No, not ring the doorbell, he will have his own key and walk right in even though I protest that I'm still in my PJs and my hair is unwashed and the remains of yesterday's dinner still sit on the TV table. He tells me to jump in the shower while he makes my bed and clears away the dishes and puts breakfast on the table: fresh orange juice, coffee, cereals, fruit and croissants that he brought after having had to look for them all over town. When I emerge in my huge bathrobe with wet hair he tells me I'm beautiful as always. We sit down and eat breakfast. He gives me time to enjoy it. He looks at me with all-seeing eyes and asks how I am. He listens. I slowly start to feel better, I bask in the warmth of his unwavering attention. When I'm on my last mug of coffee we start planning my day together. I don't want to, but he is determined. After a while, I see a line of order appear in the chaos of my life - and more importantly, I feel a glimmering of interest.

Right, let's get started, he announces at last. Remember, I'm here with you. Any problems, just ask. You do your work for today while I work on your future. Short coffee break in two hours. And tonight, we'll rent a movie or something. You'll see, it will be fun.

And it is.

travelling to Andromeda galaxy

Science fiction. Should be watched on DVD in the middle of the night, alone, curled up under a yellow blanket. Sitting on the floor, really close to the TV screen, pretending this is the only thing that exists. A tear should be shed, a thought born in the mind. Sleep fallen into, to the sound of a familiar tune.

movers and shakers of the world

Doing good in the world

bombs, Lesbians and quadruple-dates

Read my old diary and was Shocked and Awed. The things I've managed to forget in only a few years!

Did I really go on a date with four (4) Syrians at once?
Was my house really bomb-threatened and had to be evacuated?
Did I actually play Pictionary with a vague acquintance who is now my ex-boyfriend's ex-girlfriend?
Was I in fact almost run over by a bus?
Did I really once listen to a certain unknown band playing live - The Rasmus, a few years later world-famous?
Is it true that I witnessed a man being stabbed almost to death?
Did the entire crowd in a pub I only went to once actually sing "Happy Birthday" to me?
(Was that why I only went there once?)
Did my lesbian friend really swear she would kill herself if I didn't love her back?

All this in one single year. Jeez. My life today suddenly seems so dull. Oh wait - it is dull.