Wednesday, December 28, 2005

my hot Australian beach boy

Have been spending more time than strictly necessary with my ex since we broke up. And I thought things were complicated before. Now this is very platonic. But very nice.

And then I managed to track down the one I once upon a time thought would be the love of my life and whom I lost forever... ok, for 4 years, when he disappeared out into the rest of the world. Thank God for the internet! He seems to be single. He also seems to be living on the other side of the world, literally.

Probably best to have him at a safe distance though. He can stay my little fantasy, the "what would my life have been like if..." when reality just is too much to cope with. Then I will curl up and watch the snow fall while I dream of deep blue waves crashing onto a hot beach in Australia, sand between my toes and a pair of muscular, sun-tanned arms wrapping around me while a throaty voice whispers into my ear, "I love -

Tuesday, December 27, 2005

holiday feminist

After Christmas with the family I can finally breathe again.

Strange how family life wears you out. Objectively speaking, it went well. No fights, no tears from my brother's kids and the dogs didn't knock over any candles. Santa Claus politely knocked on the door early on Christmas Eve as he is supposed to do, just after dinner, and interrogated the kids about their behaviour before almost falling asleep in a chair while everybody else was handing out presents to each other. Outside, the snow was gently falling and at the end of the evening I had to dig the car out of a snow drift, shivering in my best clothes.

Subjectively, though, I felt a bit like Bridget Jones. No boyfriend this year either and it doesn't matter how many I've had through the year - at Christmas I'm still the unmarried one, the hopeless case. Doesn't matter what I have achieved either. I will count as one of the children until I'm attached to a man.

Enough to make a feminist out of anyone.

Christmas last year I spent far away from all family, in London. I have good memories of sipping wine in a warm hotel lounge, swapping gifts with my friend in our room, laughing over a very different Christmas dinner in a Lebanese fast-food diner. I also recall walking around a completely quiet, shut-down, eerily empty city on Christmas day - I don't think there are many non-Londoners (or Londoners even) who have experienced the city this way, like a ghost town. We walked for hours (since public transport was closed) into the city centre and finally found one restaurant/pub that was open. It was absolutely packed with people and we could not even get a coffee, so we gave up and walked back to the hotel. Now thoroughly fed up. Almost there, we ran into a guy carrying a take-away coffee mug and in our caffeine deficit desperation we pounced on the poor guy to ask him where he had managed to find coffee in this backward town. He pointed out a tiny coffee shop around the corner and the day was saved. Never has a coffee tasted so good.

Thursday, December 15, 2005

time for a volcano

I suddenly had an urge to go and see a volcano. Maybe it's a symptom of my rather boring (right now anyway) life on the flats of western Finland. The only mountain around here is a tiny little hill that takes 1.5 minutes to ski down. It's definitely not a volcano. From up there, though, you can see an enormous treeless flat: the crater made by a meteorite that struck sometime in the dawn of time. The reason you can only see it from the hill is the fact that the surrounding area is just as flat (only with more trees), so the crater does not stand out in any way.

Nine years ago on the Kilauea volcano in Hawaii: I remember stumbling across endless fields of old lava after dark to look at a stream of new lava pouring down the hill into the Pacific Ocean, creating an enourmous cloud of glowing steam. Maybe not the most dramatic of volcanic eruptions but Kilauea is (or was) the faithful one - at this time, the eruption had been going on for the last thirteen years (I think it has stopped by now) in a nice, controlled fashion which allowed the tourists really close. I was in awe. To me, it didn't seem particularly nice and controlled. This was nature, wild forces beyond anything I had ever imagined.

We spent a night on a campground on the mountain, not far from the craters. Our sleeping bags on the grass, directly beneath the open sky. And the sky was open - it rained most of the night. Despite this being the summer in Hawaii, we did not realise the nights actually get cold up on a mountain, volcano or no volcano.

But when the rain finally stopped I lay there - too cold to sleep - and saw all the stars in the sky blink into view. It may have been my imagination, but I thought I could hear the volcano rumble in a dark muttering beneath me.

Wednesday, December 07, 2005

more independent than intended

Day of Independence yesterday - Finland celebrating its 88th birthday. As usual a solemn, sober celebration. Due to poor planning on my part (eh, OK, to tell the truth I had almost forgot about this day) I didn't go out to see any of the parades or rituals in honour of the war veterans.

My favourite Independence Day tradition is getting a few friends together, stocking up on unhealthy food stuff, lighting candles and planting ourselves in front of the TV in the evening to watch the President's Independence Day Ball where all the celebrities and Important People are invited. Traditionally, you have to comment on the women's dresses, compete in how many Important People you can recognize and laugh at people tripping over each other in the crowded ball room of the President's castle. Even if you are too boring to have a good time, you can always exercise yourself intellectually by catching up on who are Important People in the republic of Finland nowadays and why - the ball is broadcast live on two TV channels (one in Finnish, one in Swedish) with a running commentary and interviews.

This year, all my friends seemed to have deserted me for various reasons. How sad. I pride myself on being an independent woman but it seems I need to go out there and get myself some more friends instead. Otherwise Independence Day gets a little too independent. I had no choice but to curl up in front of the TV all by myself. The only ones listening to my witty comments and intelligent remarks were the plants on the window-sill.

Saturday, December 03, 2005

decadence, fine wine and jealousy

The ultimate lazy Saturday. I didn't even bother going out, been lying in front of the TV and the computer and only getting up to dig through the fridge for food. Experimented in making a sandwich of mussels and blue cheese - pleasantly surprised at the outcome, delicious with white wine. Watched Star Trek like in the good old days.

Decadence. It's good for me.

Yesterday had a few drinks in an Irish pub with a friend and then decided on a whim to go to a night club. The friend is a minister in the Lutheran Protestant Church where alcohol (not to mention clubbing) is usually frowned upon. Felt like I was doing the ultimate evil thing - leading a man of God astray. But he just smiled, drank his beer and said, "hey, Jesus turned 5000 liters of water into fine wine!"

My ex rang me while I was in the pub. He was going to watch a movie with an ex of his. I stressed the fact that I was out drinking with a guy.

Don't miss next episode of PianoPoet - the Soap Opera.

Tuesday, November 29, 2005

walking away - see ya

That's it. I've had it. Enough. I give up. No, no, I don't give up, I REBEL!

Sick and cranky and can't get any work done. Taking the rest of the day off. Going for a winter walk.

Working from home can be so nice sometimes, and sometimes just hell. Home-made.

the snow so loud I cannot sleep

Insomnia again.

Early morning delirium, watching the dawn of another monochrome day. Three or four inches of snow on the ground, on bare tree branches, covering and cuddling cars parked in the yard. The noise from the snowploughing tractors haunted my uneasy dreams last night... As soon as there is about an inch of snow, an armada of them goes out, even in the middle of the night.

I'm high on lost sleep. I see the abstract so clearly and reality through a haze.

A pot of orange-flavoured coffee is brewing so all is well in the world.

Friday, November 25, 2005

daylight and day darkness

You know it's November when you have to switch the light on in the morning (if you get up before 9 am it's still pitch black) and keep in on all day. What they call "daylight" is greyish twilight.

My city had it's official Christmas season opening, which is a way of telling people they should get going with their mad Christmas shopping. I went to see the fireworks with a couple of friends and the streets were so crowded and icy that it was hard to walk. There was an old-fashioned market in the town square - "old-fashioned" meaning that some of the vendors had dressed up in big shawls and old woollen trousers/skirts and decorated their stalls with little lanterns. It didn't look very authentic though - was it perhaps the other stalls flashing ads for cotton candy in neon lights?

When I got home I decided to put some of my own (more discreet and beautiful) Christmas lights up in the window. Hey, I know it's early but I blame the darkness. Now I'm only waiting for the snow.

Saturday, November 19, 2005

ancient memories of an ex-vagabond

I own seven butter knives in wood but only one dull kitchen knife.
Nine vases but hardly enough plates to invite a couple of friends in for dinner.
A supply of towels and table cloths that would be enough to wrap a small Baltic country in but no machine to wash them in afterwards.
Three complicated mixers and blenders that probably have higher IQ than I have, but no pot to boil water in.
A trendy pasta ladle but no pasta.

The consequences of living as a student, with half the household consisting of borrowed and shared stuff, for years and then a few more years bumming around Ireland and Britain with nothing more than a few clothes, cosmetic essentials and a supply of novels.

Setting up a household again is intriguing. It's been "only" five years since I last had some semblance of a normal life and it's amazing how things have changed since then. Back then I still had a phone that was stuck to the wall and couldn't go anywhere (horror! All the times I couldn't go out because I was waiting for some guy to call - and he never did!). A microwave was something owned only yuppies (the same ones who had mobile phones) or people who also had three kids, big house and estate car. I wrote my Master's thesis on a computer that had to be allowed to rest every now and then, couldn't handle pictures and had only two games - Tetris and Minesweeper (I haven't beaten my personal record since those times).

I still can't afford a washing machine, dishwasher, electric kettle, toaster, a good kitchen knife, curtains, a new couch or even decent tagliatelle pasta. But I have a new, shiny microwave that would look good on Star Trek (oh no! Another thing of the past!) and a laptop that can surf the net, play DVDs, write a novel in Greek, sing little happy tunes and probably cook too (if I could afford the ingredients).

And I am a happy woman of the 21st century.

Thursday, November 10, 2005

colour scheme disturbances

Time for a new post just to reassure my faithful admirers out there that I haven't self-destructed from a broken heart!

I have, more or less, managed to make a home out of my "new" apartment. The building is a 6-storey house from the fifties and I can hear the neighbour's TV (they're watching "Desperate Housewives"). I turn up the volume on my sound system (my neighbours can now listen to my Sting CD).

I am contemplating my colour scheme. The bedspread on my lovely, lovely bed is blue. My sofa is currently mustard yellow, which doesn't look too good. Forget curtains, I don't want those - let there be light!

My kitchen table has been sitting in the shed the last fifteen years or so and looks the part.

But it's my home!

No time for interiour decorating now or the next couple of weeks. Drowning in work. It's enough to know I have my own piece of the earth at last.

Tuesday, November 01, 2005

learning the bureaucratic dance

Feel like there's a wall of paper about to collapse on my head... When I was a young, innocent little child I was told that the computer age would get rid of all the paper in the world. Well, I'm still waiting to see that happen.

Spent a whole week filling out forms and trying to get hold of people to sign papers for me. My bureaucratic week. I must have a nightmare kind of life from a bureaucrat's perspective: income somewhat less than steady and from various sources, can't seem to decide what country I want to live in, and having the cheek to ask the government for money.

Ooops - it's beginning to sound like I'm a prostitute... Well, I'm not. Not a drug-dealer either. For your information. I do translations. Work in hotel receptions. Write. Study the world and its wonders over the rim of my coffee mug. And, of course, fill out forms. Can never remember whether to "tick" the box or to mark it with an x.

Friday, October 28, 2005

dying autumn

A walk in crisp snow, cold hurting my skin. Bright sunshine on yellow leaves. Winter and autumn in a crazy mix.

Home again I light candles around my computer like some kind of pagan ritual. The last fly of the autumn is dying on my window sill.

Sunday, October 23, 2005

snow more more snow

First snow!

Excited!!

Snow more! More snow!

come on, take a guilt trip with me

The October wind is cold outside my window, here in my concrete suburb. I light a candle, pour myself a glass of wine and channel-hop between "The Two Towers" and the Eurovision Song Contest 50th Anniversary.

(...ooh, they had Riverdance! I know, I know, I'm completely pathetic, but everything Irish makes me teary-eyed...)

And in between all of this, I'm working on my masterpiece, my novel, my baby book.

How much is art worth, by the way?

Not my own tiny effort at writing something that will probably never be published anyway. But a huge thing like the filming of The Lord of the Ring? The Eurovision Song Contest that most Europeans regard with slight disdain but which most of us watch every year anyway? Each of these must cost millions to make, millions that could be used for feeding the poor or finding a cure for cancer. Each of these make millions too. Make millionaires out of a few people. Good for you, Peter Jackson.

I still go to the cinema. I paid the 8 or 10 euros per film to see the LOTR on the big screen. I was overwhelmed by the beauty of this trilogy and wouldn't have missed it for the world. But I still can't help feeling guilt. I remember the beggars I passed in the streets every day when I lived in Dublin and Cambridge and Helsinki. Here in my tiny city we don't really have beggars - the desperately poor do exist but they are hidden away somewhere. I still remember them.

This world. Why is is so complicated?

Why do I bring the entire world into my blog anyway? Must be drunk.

Wednesday, October 19, 2005

to drink with a leprechaun

Feel a bizarre urge to go live in a castle without a roof, wrap myself in woollen blankets and drink whiskey in the company of leprechauns. It doesn't matter if it rains - I will create magical pieces of art and let my hair grow wild and red.

Where can I find a cheap flight to Ireland?

Thursday, October 13, 2005

i just saw a spark

How weird. Life is doing its best to break your back but still that little spark inside of you just refuses to go out. After fighting and struggling to get your life into order and survive being close to people you love, something makes you look up through your tears and suddenly notice how beautiful that worn-out tree outside your window really is. After dragging yourself out of bed in the morning, convinced that it will be the last time because it's just too much trouble, that first smell and taste of coffee unexpectedly makes you want to call someone and tell them how much you love them.

welcome back, life

I finally found a landlord who doesn't seem to suspect that I will trash the flat, keep thirteen wild cats as pets and open an underground brothel, which means I have a flat to rent. Actually the landlord is a landlady, maybe that's why? She didn't even ask whether I have pets. Which I don't. Yet...

I'm going to have my own life! I'm going to drink my morning coffee at my own kitchen table (when I can afford one) and watch TV sipping wine (both of which I will afford even if it means I have to starve). I'm going to write my novel sitting at the open window and I will feel so alive.

Welcome back, life. I was just on a break.

Monday, October 03, 2005

eclipse

Solar eclipse today. And the sun is eclipsed all right - by all the clouds.

landlords hate me

Am I not over him yet?

Oh, right, it's only been two days.

Took a day off from work. It's Sunday after all. Checked out a couple of more flats. Landlords and ladies don't seem to approve of me for some reason, even though I consider myself the ideal tenant. What is it? Do I smell?

Volleyball practice in the evening. Tried to play with my whole heart (and the rest of my body). I was born a lazy girl who likes to keep a distance to everything - doesn't work in volleyball! I mutter to myself throughout the game. Keep your eyes on the ball and when it comes your way, the world will perish if you let it hit the ground!!! Damn it.

But... when you really manage to focus and there is nothing else in the world except you and that ball - what a feeling!

Sunday, October 02, 2005

looking for the castle

Dreamed that I was in a cottage that was about to get swept away by the sea.

Woke up to a day of sunshine and autumn leaves drifting by the window... just like the song. Went to look at a flat to rent. The city was busy with Saturday shoppers - felt a desperate longing to live there, in the middle of the city!

Flat was beautiful. Two rooms + big kitchen. Shared sauna in the attic. Best feature a balcony, the kind that you can close off with windows if the weather is bad. It even had a heater lamp and nice wooden decking. I pictured myself sitting there every morning with my mug of coffee, even when it's snowing. From there, if you reeeaaally try, you can even catch a glimse of the Baltic Sea.

But of course.... too expensive. When you're doing freelance work and mostly living on social welfare because there are no real jobs, it's difficult to find a place to live. The castle might have to wait a while longer.

Although it IS possible to buy a ruined castle in Ireland for about 100,000 euros. It doesn't have a roof and there are trees growing in the ball room... but hey, I'm not fussy. Ireland doesn't have central heating anyway.

Saturday, October 01, 2005

how do you live your first day alone?

How do you live your first day alone?

Well, you could do the Swedish-to-English translations you've been putting off for so long. You can stare at the yellowing leaves outside your window and wonder what he is thinking of right now. You can go through the "flats for rent"-ads again and try to calculate whether you can afford a tiny place with a balcony. You can fret about what you could have said and whether there is love in your busy soul...

You can look at the piano. Only look. That's what you've been doing for so long, anyway. You can try to remember the reason you left magical Ireland to come back to a country where the first snow is expected in only a few weeks' time.

You can start working on your new life, sweetie. You can set up an account in cyberspace and hope the other lonely souls out there read this.