Villiorvokki

This is how awful living with a woman can be

2012-02-15T19:14:00.000Z

The following is my translation of a hilarious agony aunt post on a Finnish TV-channel website.

***

I'm about to move in together with my missus. What should I take into consideration? Is it generally a good idea to move in together?

Do IDare?

Answer by 'Antero':

Ido not recommend it. You'll both be inconvenienced by each others'negative sides. Constant arguing about cleaning in the style of “I'mso pissed off I have to clean after you all the time”.

Youcan also think of it this way: there are no longer'men and women's chores'. Only men's chores. Women assume thatcleaning, washing up, laundry, cooking, ironing etc. are shared. Bothparties then do these chores because it's 'old fashioned' that thewoman does all the household chores. It's true that every man can orat least should know how to do these chores.

Butwhen you have to change the tyres [in Finland you must change theregular tyres to snow tyres in the autumn and back again in thespring by law], patch the hole in the bike innertube, unblock thesink, fix something, change the light bulb, mow the lawn etc. etc.These are always jobs for men. That famous equality oddly disappearsin such a situation.

Well,with these issues a gentleman can live with, but few women want toknow e.g. how to change car tyres. Try your luck and say the sameabout, say, ironing.

You'llalso note that little by little your shelves will fill up with allsorts of useless riff raff. A yucca tree in a plant pot with a redheart will appear in every god damn corner along with hundreds, maybethousands of useless decorative items. “I really had to buy thisporcelain cat cause it matches so neatly with the colour of thosecurtains.”

DidI already mention that curtains, towels etc. will also change theircolour in a radical manner. You'll have all sorts of really niceand neat pastel colours. Slowly you'll start feeling like you live insome fucking interior design programme.

It'salso worth buying some kind of plastic bag to keep your shaver,deodorant and tooth brush in. They will not fit in the bathroom cabinet,that goes without saying. The bathroom will be brimming with the mostcurious jars and lotions. Also, it will smell off hair spray, perfumeand some strange vanilla pod-scented smelly soap, which you are notallowed to wash your hands with. And the droplets of pee on thetoilet seat...

Youcan also forget about your own musical tastes. “I'm not always inthe mood for listening to that kind of growling and banging.” It isalso impossible to watch sport on TV because there's always some Sexin the City or other similar larger than life serial on that thewoman simply must see.

Underany circumstances do not make the mistake that you position thecomputer in the bedroom because using it after 10pm will beimpossible because of the awfully loud humming. And the wires look sougly. And don't even think about ever again buying a set of speakers,hi-fi etc. because they are so ugly and do not match with the rest ofthe decoration of the apartment.

Acceptthe fact that there is a scented candle on top of the TV. As a matterof fact they are almost everywhere in the apartment. But you will notbe allowed to light them, as they will no longer look nice.

Youshould also be prepared for the fact that relaxed hanging out withyour mates in your apartment will be history. If friends are comingaround there's cleaning and baking before hand, because the woman doesnot want people to think you are messy. You also among other thingshave to always bake or buy something in case a friend pops around fora visit.

Coffeewill be drank from such tiny devil cups you have to down atleast five or six of them to satisfy your caffeine cravings. The coffee potwill also need to be cleaned every time it has been used.

Bythe way, your mates are all bad company for you and also most of themare alcoholic losers according to your woman. You can forget abouteating take away pizza while watching a film because:

a)it is so unhealthy

b)you are not allowed to eat in the lounge in case the lime-colouredcouch gets dirty

c)you will not want to watch films because the only option is romanticcomedy. “I don't want to watch that violence.” It is alsoimpossible for women to concentrate in the film because she must atthe same time varnish her nails, dry and style her hair and applymake up. You will have to answer questions such as “who's that”,“and who's THAT and what is he doing, why is he doing that” allthe time.

Yourenjoyment in the movie will be ruined because you will at the sametime hear what Petra got up to over the weekenf and how her boyfriendSami took it. You could, by the way, eat more greens.

Youwill never again find any of your things because your missus willre-design the decoration once a week and move them to a differentspot. The keys should be in a poppy-patterned Marimekko key cabinet,but you won't find them there because in reality the cabinet takesapproximately three keys to fill up. Instead you'll find the keys ina drawer in the hall, inside a bad smelling tin can (found in asecond hand shop) of which top is jammed. On top of allthat the drawer itself will sail around the hall changing its spot everyweek. And you can probably guess who will be moving the heavy drawerevery week from one place to another... “Try it in thatcorner...no, it doesn't go with that frog statue at all, try thatcorner...no, you cannot put it there, it's bad feng shui...trythere...”

Youwill not be able to keep any groceries in their original packagingbut instead everything will have to be squeezed in small jars andtubs that are impractical and 'look really lovely'. All tubs are thesame colour and positioned in the cupboards with such logic that it'simpossible to find anything in them. Especially as the content of thetubs changes once a week.

Youcan forget about getting pissed during the week as well as having acouple of beers in the evening. “Do you always have to drink...Soon you'll have a similar beer belly to your father's.” Drinkingin your apartment with your friends will turn into a 'tea party'where there are only couples. On the background Ricky Martin or UltraBra will play quietly and on the table will be a vast quantity ofdifferent types of snacks. Remember to use a plate and a napkin.And you'll smell the fucking scented candles.

Google Translate Chinese Whispers

2012-02-12T09:54:00.001Z

Yesterday we were sat in the lounge, me and my housemates Dan and Rylan, housemate Dan's girlfriend and her friend, and somehow from an idea from Rylan we got into translating random sentences into random languages and back to English again to see how much they change. A bit like Google Translate Chinese Whispers. (It works best with more complicated or a bit silly stuff, too simple sentences come back almost exactly the same.)

Long story short, I ended up reworking an old draft idea to a finished piece: The Pawn Shop. My first ever tongue twister!

And for a bit of fun, here's what you get when you translate that little ditty with the help of Google:

English-Finnish:

Minä panttasi my porn

ja pelinappula shop

vieressä porn shop

se vieressä sotilasta shop

joka myy panttasi porno

alkaen porno shop

vieressä sotilasta shop

joka myy panttasi porno

alkaen porno shop

vieressä

Finnish-Swedish:

I ställda min porr

och pantbanken

intill porr butiken

butiken bredvid soldaterna

lovade som säljer porr

från porr butiken

shoppa bredvid soldaterna

lovade som säljer porr

från porr butiken

intill

Swedish-Spanish:

El porno min consolidada

y la casa de empeño

adyacente a la tienda de porno

almacenar los soldados próximos

venta prometió porno

de la tienda de porno

soldados próximas compras

venta prometió porno

de la tienda de porno

adyacente

Spanish-French:

Min porno consolidée

et le prêteur sur gages

adjacent à la boutique porno

stocker les soldats à venir

porno vente promise

Boutique Porno

soldats prochains achats

porno vente promise

Boutique Porno

adjacent

French-Italian:

Min porn consolidato

e il banco dei pegni

adiacente al negozio porno

memorizzare i soldati a venire

Porn promesso in vendita

Porn Negozio

soldati prossimo acquisto

Porn promesso in vendita

Porn Negozio

adiacente

Italian-Latin:

Min porn contexitur

et pawnshop

adiacentibus ad porn tabernam

congregem milites ad

Porn pollicitus venditionem

Porn Shop

militum deinde emptio

Porn pollicitus venditionem

Porn Shop

adiacentibus

Latin-English:

Min by the thorns of consolidated

and pawnshop

adjacent to the fruit shop

to assemble the troops

Promised by the thorns of sale

Shop by the thorns

the purchase of military

Promised by the thorns of sale

Shop by the thorns

adjacent

Turns out Google Translate doesn't recognise the first personal pronoun in Swedish.

Hot Java Lover

2012-02-08T23:24:00.003Z

I like men
like coffee:
hot, sweet & strong

I got a hot Java lover

Mm, a steaming shot of
rich and spicy
arabica in the morning

I got a hot Java lover

Ooh, a piping cup of
wild, full-bodied
robusta in the evening

I got a hot Java lover

I want a
double-strength forty-weight
to keep me going all night long

I got a hot Java lover
full of bittersweet aroma

A hot Java lover
full of fruity flavour

Grande mocchacino freddo,
doppio stretto, espresso corretto

I got a hot Java lover
so nutty & chocolatey

A hot Java lover kisses
hot Java lava kisses
with a mellow mouthfeel

They Say Men Are Like Buses...

2012-01-30T07:01:00.001Z

I'm sat at a bus stop,

puffing on a roll-up

and sipping Hot Lava Java from a flask

to ease the annoyance

of having to get up at 7:30

on a Saturday morning

when I'd rather be snuggled under blankets

and watch flowers of frost

slowly melting on the skylights

as the sun lifts its bald, shining head up

higher towards the January sky.

I watch the traffic go by

in no-rush hour,

waiting for Stagecoach

service number 101.

They say men are like buses.

But you were always different,

taking pride in your elusiveness,

sanctimoniously preaching

honesty as the best policy

while pulling the wool

over my blue eyes

with deceit and lies,

belittling my words of truth

as fabricated fantasies,

enforcing a communication breakdown

and a total eclipse of the heart.

So I'm not surprised

to detect you behind the wheel

of a highway maintenance pick-up truck

stopping at the traffic lights.

The minute I recognise

the sickening Cadbury's Fruit & Nut eyes

it's out with the caffeine and nicotine Zen

and in with indescribable animosity

for this pacifist tranquillity fan

as your mere presence fills my mind, body and spirit

with the venom of extreme enmity,

painting my inner rainbow landscapes black,

burning the secret garden of my soul into charcoal,

and the happy bunnies and Care Bears

that frolic on clouds of candy floss in insouciant innocence

poisoned by the acrimonious antipathy

emanating from your aura.

I begin to fantasise:

I dream your nightmare, me,

and with the kind of power of imagination

you cannot even commence to conceive

let alone to possess,

I transform the AK-47

in the pocket of my full-length Russian military coat

from a bagful of cannabis sativa

into a real Kalashnikov,

and as you wait for the red to turn green

I pull out the selective-fire,

gas-operated,

7.62x39mm assault rifle,

fully loaded.

Aiming the weapon of my choice

at your peanut head full of contempt

I blast into atoms
(unquestionably devoid of the God particle)

the cheap bourbon-pickled pea brain,

encased in a skull
thicker than the Great Wall of China.

I pull the trigger and make a face:

BOOM!

This one is for the guy you harpooned for sleeping with your ex.

BOOM!

This one is for your ex,
the poor abused girl who just wanted to break free

from your jealous possession and paranoid bullying.

BOOM!

This one is for your laughable attempt to apologise for being 'a horrible wanker'

- don't flatter yourself, love!

At the age of 37
you're still a juvenile brat,
incapable of taking responsibility for your own mistakes

and incapacitated by irrational fear of change,

I'd love to grant you the honour to be called a 'twat',

but frankly, my dear,

when it comes to vagina-derived insults

'cunt' would be more appropriate,

and even that is far too complimentary

to describe the kind of lowlife that is you.

And the rest of it,

each homicidal, unrestrained, vicious and violent

BOOM!

sprayed out 27 times

in sync with the raging rhythm of my heart

that once beat only for you,

they're all for me

and for every single time

your weak and impaired mind

- consciously or unwillingly, I don't care -

devised a scheme to manipulate,

to corrupt and pervert my naïve state,
to trap me deeper
into your fucked-up-in-the-arse-in-prison-showers
emotional and psychological bullshit.

I'm sick of you
and I'm sick of your sick games.
I'm tired of playing cat and mouse
or hide and seek.
I'd catch you, I can.
I'd search and destroy.
I'd point and shoot,
tear down all your hopes and dreams,
if there was anything good left in
your bubonic plague ridden soul.

They say men are like buses.

Taking the last glance at
the wreck behind the wheel
of the pick-up truck
cowardly speeding off at the sight of me
as the amber flashes to emerald,
I pull down the rim of my plum fedora
and hail a cab.

Rock rock rocking our living room

2012-01-29T20:08:00.001Z

So I invited a few friends over for a girly night in. As Frenchie, one of the attendees to the soiree put it, there were no chick flicks or gossip (maybe a tiny bit of the latter...), but instead we drank rum and rocked the shit out of Rock Band and our living room to our neighbours' great glee. I must say I am well impressed by the progress I'm making on the pro keyboard, and the consistent improvement has encouraged me to try the guitar and bass as well (piss easy!!!). World fame, here we come!

Last night was all about having a bit of silly fun. And good food. I absolutely love cooking, and living with four guys who like to eat is great motivation to try out things I've always wanted to cook but never really bother to prepare just for myself. Like brownie cookies. (I tried the recipe yesterday for the first time... I had to convert the American cup measurements to the European metric system with my limited mathematical skills to have at least a vague idea of what I was doing. I also baked them in higher temperature as our oven leaks heat due to the hinge on the door missing a screw. The result was a batch of poop-like chocolate dollops that were burnt from the bottom, nothing like the saliva-inducing decadent cookies portrayed on the original recipe website. I'll have to try them again though, I'm determined to perfect the recipe!)

Last week I found out that my friend Kai has an ice cream machine she never uses, so I demanded her to hand it over for some frozen treat experiments. This week I've made mango and jackfruit sorbet, lychee sorbet, and for last night I prepared some coconut ice cream to go with the afore mentioned cookies. The sorbets were an absolute delight! (I left out the sugar as I used tinned fruit and the syrup was sweet enough). I made two batches of the coconut ice cream, one without sugar and one with sugar. I recommend adding sugar to taste if using the vacuum packed, dried cream of coconut as the dry packed stuff wasn't quite sweet enough. But it was just the thing to salvage the least burnt cookies I served it with.

The real winner of the menu was the epic sushi that I made to feed the hungry rocker ladies (and Powell, my newest housemate we took pity on and let stay despite the 'all-girls' tag of the gaming event). I even made proper tamagoyaki for the nigiri!

NOM!

And there was much rejoicing.

Frenchie and Amirah popped their Rock Band guitar/bass cherries, and we all had a blast playing classics like 'Antibodies', 'Bohemian Rhapsody', 'Smoke on the Water', 'Personal Jesus', 'Du Hast' (of which Kai did a brilliant German rendition!), 'Killing Moon', and many more! But as with all good things, the night had to come to an end. Amirah and Frenchie bid farewell before boarding the Banana Boat and doing the Cinderella, and after a 12 track road trip challenge I tackled a pile of dishes shadowing the kitchen sink and chatted to Kai, who had adopted a curious comedy lisp that I suspect had some connection to the speed she was enjoying the Captain Morgan she brought round. Finally Kai, too, made her way home, and I retired to my penthouse suite for a well-deserved beauty sleep.

P.s: The Internet is the best cookery book ever!

N8 shots of 2011

2012-01-15T13:06:00.003Z

I <3 my Nokia N8 - especially the 12MP Carl Zeiss Tessar camera that even puts my trusty Nikon D40X SLR into shame when it comes to pixel power!

I've not been very active on photographing with my mobile in the last year, probably due to the fact that I took thousands of photos with my SLR for all sorts of assignments, and when you do something for work it tends to reduce the impulse to extend the activity to free-time.

Anyhoo, here's my highlights of 2011 as seen through my N8 or 'neiti', which translates to 'miss' or 'young lady' in Finnish.

On my way to do laundry at a friend's house. Notice the uber-trendy granny trolley...

My favourite piece of art work in 2011, created by Leo, Kai's son.

In August I visited home for two weeks. The pick'n'mix in Finland is amazing, every kiosk and corner shop has an impressive variety, here's an example of my parents' local grocery shop candy counter!

Flora of Helsinki.

This is how you travel in style in Finland!

Hehehehe...

Guess my star sign!

I've known my neighbour's kid Vesa since he was born. He's always had a bit curious tastes...

I like my men furry! Here's Otto in a contemplative mood.

Laura, my cousin, was one of my best friends and sometimes my worst foe when we were growing up.

A very zen bar code as seen at the bottom of a Yogi Tea packet.

Trying on some divine satin Aalto dresses at the Marimekko flagship store in Helsinki.

Swing high?

Kakkugalleria on Fredrikinkatu in Helsinki has an all you can eat cake buffet!

Best of Finnish exports: Angry Birds!

Star sign beer, namesake sparkling wine...what next?!?

My beautiful big sister Kirsi.

And my beautiful BFF Henna.

Blue Wings a.k.a Finnair taking me back to Manchester...

...only to be greeted by this at the bus stop!

Heart.

Fooling around at work. Amirah's prepared for the summer.

Yes, we do get work done, too...sometimes.

Zombiefied Kai getting ready to hunt for some man meat at Halloween.

I didn't bother dressing up this for Halloween as I was being boring and stayed in.

Random photo of a Finnish theatre group performance as seen on the brick wall opposite Space bar.

And here's the rest of the collage.

BatDan.

I have the coolest housemates who have the most amazing collections of STUFF. Like hats.

'My' guys, they're so lovely! Here seen playing Rock Band on Xbox. Notice the concentration! (I'm officially the keyboard player of the house after I spent a few days relentlessly and obsessively hammering my way through 'Bohemian Rhapsody' and 'Rock Lobster' during my week off from work. Just don't ask me to play Battlefield 3!)

And finally, je te presente my new sexy boots! The last thing I allowed myself to indulge in before making the decision to save up for going travelling.

They're so pretty! Well worth the money and wait!

Phoenix rising

2012-01-11T22:56:00.004Z

2011 was an intense year. I generally welcome intense experiences, they really push me forward and challenge me to make important changes that helps me to grow spiritually and as a person. But towards the end of the year things just started to get a bit too much.

Over the summer I was involved with a very selfish, manipulative and angry person. At first he showed me his kind and loving spiritual side, and I had some pretty amazing transcendental experiences with this person. We shared an incredible spiritual connection that at one point lead to something I can only describe as being 'a spiritual orgasm'. My mind, body and spirit were in a constant state of ecstasy for a whole weekend.

Then the trouble started. I could feel this guy trying to control me, trying to get me doing things against my free will. But as many others in the past, he failed to manipulate me into doing what he wanted, and as soon as he realised I wouldn't give up my freedom so easily, the ecstatic feelings of love turned into intense dislike as conflicts abounded and escalated. I really had to work hard not to give in to hatred and to transform the bad juju into more positive and constructive vibes.

Eventually we called it a day, although at that point he was trying his best to ignore me and avoid any contact and communication with me. But guys often underestimate my strength and willpower, I am no longer bullied into sacrificing my values for the sake of others, and I forced him to face me and tell me straight to fuck off instead of waiting for me to give up on him. The fucking coward didn't even have the balls to meet me alone, but had a whole entourage of the puppets he calls friends around him for support.

I learnt a lot from the experience, however, mainly that I have the strength to rise above emotional manipulation. I am stronger than anger, hatred, bitterness, or jealousy. Or at least I thought so, until I bumped into my ex-boyfriend, the only man I've ever allowed myself to truly fall in love with, the man whose love helped me to get out of the darkest time and place I have yet been within myself, before he completely betrayed my trust little by little with his lies and broke my heart into a million pieces while simultaneously repeating to me his mantra: 'honesty is the best policy'.

At first I thought this would be the time for recuperation. I still felt strong feelings for him and was willing to forgive everything, talk through past hurts and start all over. But as with so many cowards, he refuses to change anything about himself, and even tries to stop others from changing. For the three odd years I hadn't heard as much as a word from him I had tried to forget and move on, but something always stopped me from truly letting myself go and allowing myself to be swept off my feet by other men.

Well, he's done his famous trick of disappearing again, and after a few weeks lived in desperation and anxiety, I had enough of reliving the pain, suffering and confusion. Right now I'm really struggling to overcome the will to hate him. But it makes it easier to deal with things when I understand that the anger and hatred are not so much directed at him but myself. Why did I let myself be fooled like that again? I'm so disappointed with myself that I let him get under my skin yet again, that I allowed myself to be so weak.

But luckily this inner turmoil tends to be only temporary. Today I may feel like shit, I may want to hate him and want him to suffer. It's just a momentary lapse and tomorrow hopefully I will continue on the path to peace as a rejuvenated warrior of light. Things are pretty awesome in my life right now anyways, so there's no point or indeed need to fall into the trap of hating something or someone.

It really helped to have some good friends around at Christmas. We cooked some amazing food, ate well and drunk and were merry, played table games and watched a lot of great films. New Year was perhaps even better. I noticed a while ago that someone close to me was trying to get even closer, but because of the circumstances I kept my distance. And then New Year happened and I decided to give him a chance. To give myself a chance. And it's the best decision I've made for a long time!

See, I've stopped myself from getting involved with so many cool guys in the past just because deep down I felt like I didn't deserve their affection. I always made the excuse that I don't want to hurt them. I even said it to this guy, but now I realise what bullshit that whole sentence is. I'm not going to hurt anyone if I respect them AND myself equally. And that's exactly what's happening now. Because of the way I first met him I have a tremendous amount of respect for him, and I feel he honours me with the same.

It's so lovely to be involved with someone who has the courage to truly be himself. I really enjoy his company, he's incredibly intelligent and great fun! He's kind and warm, confident, easy-going and full of affection. I feel free from any restrictions, I have my freedom to come and go as I please, and I am happy to grant him the same liberty. And I look forward to each moment we spend together, because although we got on well before, the newly found intimacy just adds a whole new dimension to the dynamics.

Most importantly, I'm so happy to share my life with someone I can have such honest and open communication with. I guess it helps that we were friends before things got steamy. But ever since we've got closer I've discovered whole new depths in him, and every day he surprises me with his thinking that is so close to the way I see the world but still different enough to make every conversation enlightening and interesting.

Paradoxically, my commitment to go travelling this summer makes it easier for me to handle with the whole issue of committing to another person, and I am yet to feel any of that restlessness that I usually have itching at my feet or at the bottom of my belly when I'm involved with a guy. Maybe it's the knowledge that this will not be forever that helps me to deal with my own fears and issues. We're yet to talk about the inevitable, but although we've agreed that at some point a serious conversation will have to take place, it seems that we're both happy just to take things a day at the time at the moment.

In many ways I feel like 2011 was a death of the old me. The intense emotional and psychological experiences that I've been through in the last year have resulted in parts of me dying, parts that no longer served a purpose, parts that had to die to give way for the birth of new ones, new ways of thinking and seeing the world. I have been burnt to ashes by love, and purified by the eternal flames I have been reborn and rising again, like the magickal bird phoenix. Soon I'll be ready to fly.

The science of laughter

2012-01-06T16:19:00.001Z

Seen in the readers' comments section in today's The Guardian newspaper (printed edition):

A Higgs boson goes to church but the priest refuses to let it in. The particle says: "But without me how can you have mass?"

...Which reminded me of this 'old' joke:

A Buddhist man goes to a hot dog stand and says to the hot dog man: "Make me one with everything." He hands over a ten pound note and when asking about his change the hot dog man replies: "Change comes within."

Happy end of the world 2012!

Native American Code of Ethics

2011-12-29T17:33:00.003Z

Found this here while stumbling. If only every soul in the universe understood the importance of honouring the below laws.

Rise with the sun to pray. Pray alone. Pray often.

The Great Spirit will listen, if you only speak.

Be tolerant of those who are lost on their path.

Ignorance, conceit, anger, jealousy and greed stem

from a lost soul. Pray that they will find guidance.

Search for yourself, by yourself. Do not allow others

to make your path for you. It is your road, and

yours alone. Others may walk it with you,

but no one can walk it for you.

Treat the guests in your home with much consideration.

Serve them the best food, give them the best

bed and treat them with respect and honor.

Do not take what is not yours whether from

a person, a community,the wilderness or from a

culture. It was not earned nor given. It is not yours.

Respect all things that are placed upon

this earth – whether it be people or plant.

Honor other people’s thoughts, wishes and words.

Never interrupt another or mock or rudely mimic them.

Allow each person the right to personal expression.

Never speak of others in a bad way. The negative

energy that you put out into the universe

will multiply when it returns to you.

All persons make mistakes.

And all mistakes can be forgiven.

Bad thoughts cause illness of the mind,

body and spirit. Practice optimism.

Nature is not FOR us, it is a PART of us.

They are part of your worldly family.

Children are the seeds of our future. Plant

love in their hearts and water them with

wisdom and life’s lessons. When they

are grown, give them space to grow.

Avoid hurting the hearts of others.

The poison of your pain will return to you.

Be truthful at all times. Honesty is the

test of one’s will within this universe.

Keep yourself balanced. Your Mental self, Spiritual

self, Emotional self, and Physical self – all need

to be strong, pure and healthy. Work out

the body to strengthen the mind. Grow

rich in spirit to cure emotional ails.

Make conscious decisions as to who

you will be and how you will react. Be

responsible for your own actions.

Respect the privacy and personal space of

others. Do not touch the personal property of

others – especially sacred and religious

objects. This is forbidden.

Be true to yourself first. You cannot

nurture and help others if you cannot

nurture and help yourself first.

Respect others religious beliefs.

Do not force your belief on others.

Share your good fortune with others.

Participate in charity.

Genghis Khan

2011-12-23T13:33:00.002Z

Observations on 'Mongol: The Rise of Genghis Khan':

1) Mongolian men are H-O-T.
2) Temujin was a Man. I'd be proud to know I'm one of the 0.5% of world population that is claimed to be descendant of the great khan.
3) No matter what your quest, determination is the key.
4) I love thunder as much as the pre-renessaince Mongols were afraid of it.
5) It's interesting how many cultures have a thunder god.
6) Long hair and long robes on men is H-O-T.
7) How the frigg do they shoot arrows so accurately while riding a horse at full gallop?
8) True love endures ANYTHING.
9) Mongolian women are H-O-T.
10) I want to travel across the Mongolian steppes!

Globetrotter mode: ON

2011-12-22T13:30:00.001Z

So, the travel plans are rapidly advancing!

Yesterday I sat down after work and did some calculations on how much money I can save in six months if I cut on smoking (including the green stuff), stop buying sandwiches for lunch and make packed lunches instead, and start cycling to work instead of taking the bus. I worked out that I by putting away a minimum of £75 a week from my pay startin in January I'll have just over £2000 by the end of June. That'd get me started.

Then I got thinking about other ways of making money. I'm pretty crafty (a post will soon follow with pictures of my latest creations once I have located the spare battery and charger for my camera), so making things to sell is definitely an option. That'll also be a great way of getting rid of some of the stuff I've accumulated over the almost 9 years in the UK, recycling stuff into dresses I can sell on Etsy or Ebay.

As the financial side of things is starting to take shape, I’ve obviously also been thinking about the route. My neighbour’s kid from back home in Finland is moving to Mexico in the new year, so I thought that’d be a natural starting point. And another friend of mine is living in Costa Rica, so that’s also on the South American route.

Initial research into round the world flights suggested I could fly to Los Angeles (I never realised LA is only a couple of hours drive from the Mexican border – “welcome to Tijuana, tequila sex y marijuana” here we come!) and make my way around the Central and South Americas, possibly with the neighbour’s kid in tow. I definitely want to be in Mexico around the Day of the Dead, and could then continue my way south to try and be in Rio de Janeiro when the samba carnival takes place in February.

Then I had a look at where to head next. I have to say, the South Pacific islands of Fiji, Tonga, Samoa and Vanuatu look VERY appealing…just the kind of paradise getaways I’m dreaming of exploring! From there it would be most logical to continue to New Zealand and/or Australia.

Once I’ve visited the Lord of the Rings film sets and been awestruck by the majesty of Uluru, I’m gonna head to Asia. I want to explore the exotic Southeast Asia and of course China – I really wanna see the Great Wall and Tibet! – and India, then I could move on towards the Middle East through Pakistan and Central Asia, and if I’ve still got the travelling bug, I’m going all the way to Africa.

As my friends have already pointed out, at this rate I’ll be gone for years, and they are seriously doubting I’ll ever return once I set off. Well, it’s to be seen. First of all, I need to get moving, though, and there’s plenty of stuff to do before the departure lounge at the airport awaits.

I'm going the whole wide world

2011-12-20T12:47:00.002Z

Last night I had a bit of trouble sleeping. Well, it wasn't exactly trouble as the lack of sleep wasn't troubling me that much, I just ended up meditating in the pitch black (I recently discovered the blinds on my skylights block out almost all light!) for a good hour or two. In the midst of exploring the depths of my minds, body and spirit I had a clear insight about what I'm going to do with my future.

For a while now I've been really thinking about a Career. The word itself is enough to send shudders down my spine, and I've really struggled to come to terms with the fact that I'm nearing thirty and should be thinking about my long term future (i.e. pension) and all that bullshit. I'm just not cut out for all this responsible adult crap. I want to be free to do what I please and go where I want to go when I feel like it. So when the opportunity came up to apply for a fixed term contract at the OU where I'm currently temping, I turned it down.

The thing is, I love working at the OU. It's a brilliant institution with amazing staff and really lovely culture in the office. But that's part of the problem: it's too cosy. It'd be so easy for me to get stuck there for a year or six, and as the progress prospects are literally non-existent, I'd be bored out of my mind in no time. I already am a bit, after just some 6 months of answering student queries.

But last night I came up with a solution. I'm going travelling. It's a life-long dream that I've kept postponing since time immemorial, but I decided that now (or soon) would be the perfect time to go. I'm thinking next summer when the current tenancy agreement for the house I'm living in ends. I have six months time to sell all my stuff, I'm only gonna keep the most important things. The rest will be cruelly sold for profit to fund my journey.

I have no clear plans about the travel itself. I'm crazy enough to just pack my bag and head out of the door onto the side of the motorway, stick my thumb up and see where the wind takes me. To great adventures, no doubt.

I have been thinking starting my masters degree in February, but I may postpone that in order to make my travelling dreams come true. after all, we only live once, and if I don't do this now I may never do it. I can always come back to study at a later date, but I will never forgive myself for not fulfilling one of my greatest ambitions of travelling the world. Everywhere, anywhere, I'm heading on a journey to nowhere.

Only wishing DGC will be with me.

Dental delight

2011-12-14T22:41:00.001Z

It's no secret British dental care has a notorious reputation in Europe. But despite having warm and fond memories of the effectiveness of Finnish healthcare system and the dentist who I remember my mother dearest describing with doe-eyed delight as being 'so sympathetic', I share a common aversion to dentists in general with most of the society.

Over the last decade - since leaving home to study at a private college - I have rarely found myself in the white chair under the bright light, surrounded by evil-looking space age machinery with their tentacles that hold those anxiety inducing drills waiting to excavate your helplessly gaping mouth. I'm so terrified of going to the dentist, that I've long ignored my cracked wisdom teeth slowly chipping away, meditated myself into restful sleep in times of splitting toothaches, and even resorted to rupturing an uncomfortable gum abscess with a needle.

The rare occasions I've dared to venture to a dentist's reception have been twice in Finland on summer holidays when my mother paid my appointment to the familiar dentist as a late birthday present, and here in the UK only when I have been very desperate. The first dentist I went to in Manchester quoted £200 to put a new crown on my tooth that had suffered from a particularly stubborn pistachio nut. I paid his consultation fee of £50 out of the overdraft on my student account and left, disgusted and devastated.

The second dentist enlightened me of the NHS rates, but shocked by the cost of the previous experience I had left it too long, and the tooth had to come out. But even the more reasonable price of treatment didn't help when the dentist cracked the tooth he was pulling out with the biggest pair of tongs I've seen, and an 'oops!'.

Needless to say, since that time I've only thought about the dentist in nightmares. But the longer I leave going to the dentist, the worse I feel about my dental health. So when a tooth that I know is in dire need of caring attention recently started aching I decided that the situation needs to be dealt with. It became my mission to find the dentist of my dreams, one that I could would be able to put my faith in and call 'so sympathetic' with a honeyed voice.

After yet another night of building my pain threshold with the help of meditation, I booked an emergency appointment through the NHS helpline and visited a very busy centre where the dentist merely made sarcastic remarks when I explained him why I had let the tooth rot in my mouth without doing much about it. I cancelled the follow-up appointment for a filling.

Then I decided to do my own research, and one day popped in Family Dental Practice, where the dentist himself came to meet me in the reception. He had friendly eyes, and despite having been disturbed mid-operation judging by the white mask and latex gloves he took the time to book me an appointment.

That appointment was this morning. The damage is pretty bad: the wisdom teeth and the latest ache all have to come out, at least another two need filling, and I've had people comment on the nicotine and coffee stains on my teeth enough to secretly fantasise of a thorough scale and polish. The dentist didn't judge or make sarcastic comments, simply gave me an understanding nod when I told him about my last experience, and assured we'd go at my pace to complete the treatment, and then see regularly at 6 month intervals.

To top it all off, being a bit on the tight side, I was very pleasantly surprised when the receptionist explained how the charges are inclusive, so next time I don't have to pay the full £47 for the Operation Pearly White, but just the balance of £30 that'll be left after I paid the consultation fee of £17. I flew home on my bike afterwards. I've found The Dentist of My Dreams!

Happy dayz!

2011-11-22T22:40:00.016Z

This year Christmas came early. Last Friday, to be precise. As a matter of fact, it was more like all the Christmases in my life, past, present and future, at once, and a bit more.

I was out with some friends after we'd had a meeting to talk about a new and exciting project I'll be involved with soon, I hope, though it's all up in the air still so I can't reveal too much about it yet. Anyhoo, we ended up at Fab Cafe, which is managed by one of my lovely housemates. We were just chatting along as you do when I got up to get a drink at the bar.

As I headed to get another double whiskey and coke I nearly got a heart attack when I saw who was there. The Love of My Life, the man who I was once truly, madly, deeply in love with and who I had not seen or heard anything from for near enough three and a half years was standing just a few metres away from me, casually ordering pints of lager.

My heart started racing and I felt myself shaking like a leaf in the middle of a hurricane (okay, that's a rubbish metaphor considering the centre of a hurricane is actually calm, but let's not get bogged down to minor details...), but I approached him nevertheless, as I felt like this was my only chance; after all, he might just disappear any moment again like a fart in Sahara.

Nervous like a virgin about to be deflowered I walked up to him and tapped his shoulder. He turned around and I was glad to see a big smile spread on his face when he saw me. I was in a total state of shock and just couldn't believe it. I was so happy to see him! I didn't care if he was going to run off, the main thing was that he was alive and well and generally looked happy with life.

I went off to tell my friends who I'd bumped into, and they told me not to worry about them but to go catch up with the man who made me the person I am today. So I did. We sat there talking (mostly...) until late, and then continued back at mine. It was so incredible, such a chance meeting, like the time when we first met some six and half years ago at Fab's sister club Tiger Lounge, and such an amazing relief to talk about everything and tell him how much I'd missed him and how lovely it was to see him.

In the morning he didn't want to leave, and I didn't want him to leave either, although I didn't want to say anything. (Except "Marry me!") But that chance meeting kept me buzzing all weekend. And he gave me even more a reason to smile like an idiot by asking if I'd like to go out for a drink sometime. D'oh! Like there's anything in the world I'd want to do more! (Except marry him.)

I've been walking on clouds, feeling like I've won the lottery, like I'm made of stardust, the happiest woman on Earth, no, the universe! I can't really describe it in words, so here's a picture that says it all:

There's no doubt about it, he's my soulmate, no matter what happens next.

The Art of Apology

2011-09-29T15:15:00.002+01:00

It takes courage

and a bit of an effort

to be an adult,

to admit your errors,

to accept responsibility

for your words and (in)actions

But it only takes two seconds

to conceive the thought,

two seconds

to form the sounds,

two seconds

to utter the words

It takes two seconds

to say: “I’m sorry”,

to undo wrongs

and save yourself

from a lifetime

of guilt and worry.

The Foodie

2011-09-29T13:07:00.003+01:00

I met him, in a way

so typical of me,

at a party for Polaks

where I was drowning

my sorrows in a shot glass

and ice cold vodka Zubrowka,

in the kitchen

chatting up in Finnish

the psychedelic Estonian

– my birthday boy –

while the last lay sat

on a sofa in the lounge

(now a bit more a man than a mouse),

and another hopeful

grouched in the corner

waiting for his turn, wondering

where number zero puts him

in the queue

And as I was

getting more and more

intoxicated and asphyxiated

he appeared in the garden,

an angel of atonement

on a mission to offend

with a fag in hand

and wearing orange

specs for spasticated dyspraxics,

envious of the Shirt King

and the hipster scene,

but failing to insult me

despite his best efforts

to treat me

like a piece of meat

Instead I pulled him

in for vodka-flavoured kisses

and took him

half a mile down the street

where we made out

on an abandoned couch

with the pulled-down shutters

of a Claremont Road cornershop

as a scenic backdrop

for the no-strings-romance

Some six months later

I’m sat in a park

after dark,

overwhelmed by emotions

pressure-cooked to a boiling point,

requesting a release

when a message appears

on my N8 screen

in the words of Dylan:

“I want you. I want you bad.”

That felt good.

And I’m off to Ancoats

to listen to Leonard Cohen,

and him

describing me his sirloin steak

and vino rosso meal,

feeding me tasty tidbits

of Phil Spector

in a prurient Brummie drawl

that makes me drool

between my legs.

Be True To Yourself

2011-09-25T22:33:00.000+01:00

Be who you want to be
but be true to yourself,
don't let anger and hatred blind you
to the good things,
the bright side of life
and people.

Be who you want to be
but be true to yourself,
don't let bitterness and frustration bind you,
release yourself from all fears
and keep your eyes focussed
on the prize.

Be true to yourself
because you're free
to be whoever you want to be.

Sweet Dreams

2011-09-25T22:26:00.005+01:00

Granules of golden caster sugar,
saccharine memories
tingling on my skin

rising from underneath
volcanic Venusian heat
hot flames of desire,
growing, lingering
licking their way up

melting my body
into crystal
clear syrup rivers

I surrender
to a sonorous sensation,
dive into a delightful delirium
and join the Mile High Club

on an astral plane.

Acta non verba

2011-09-18T18:36:00.008+01:00

Brighter than the Moon
you illuminate the night
with an aura of Divine Wisdom,
incandescent indigo light

My spirit is on fire,
ablaze like two stars in fusion
in a lucid dream reality
vivid flames of scared creation

And Love

Transforming,
transmuting,
transcending

I am a blissful state of flux ascending.

Je mange les hommes jeunes au petit dejeuner*

2011-09-16T03:35:00.010+01:00

An alpha angel face to my beta Bettie Page, G's got a hot rod and strong will. He rides me up the hill where I smile as he swings me around, goes down, takes me for a walk and for a while we talk about politics; he twists my knickers with 'Aryan roots', calling me Eva in my 'Hitler Jugend boots'. Upset, I demand to go back to my bachelorette pad. But somewhere near Clitheroe he kisses me and melts the ice, pulling me back, the snake in paradise.

In and out of control, D prefers Hendrix or T-Rex to rave or Snow Patrol. Toking on Purple Haze while jamming to Voodoo Chile, he's stoic and solid, not much into gambol, unless I suggest an evening of horizontal mambo, then I'm faced with a real carnal rambo. In between repeats he treats me with philosophical discourse, and I'm dazzled by the intellectual intercourse, his tour de force, and the fact he's hung like a horse.

Here's the thing with T: he knows the female anatomy... But he's so shy, so introverted and way too timid to push the limit or feel the boundary – not to mention me – coyly glancing from underneath his brow, with a pout that just makes me go 'wow!', until I switch off the lights and he rolls down my fishnet tights, and suddenly he's a man not a mouse, kissing me here and there and a bit more everywhere, knowing exactly which buttons to press to stimulate and arouse.

*I eat young men for breakfast

Oh Othello!

2011-09-15T23:19:00.010+01:00

Oh Othello!

The coolest of cats

straying down Deansgate,

scanning alleys for rats

those sorry creatures

living on left-over lives,

nightmares who sell dreams

to waxwork zombies

and perma-tanned peroxide gargoyles,

soul-less shells of has-been humans

living lies in illusions of truth.

Oh Othello!

The cruelest of cats

stalking down Canal Street

past long-gone cotton mills

standing by the murky waters
of Mersey and the murder victims

at the bottom of the ship canals,

tormenting troubled souls,

possessing beggars

with piss-stained promises

of bogus Paradise.

Blue Wings

2011-09-12T07:17:00.005+01:00

Above the veil of clouds
flying high across blue skies
with Blue Wings carrying me closer to you
I'm feeling blue,
I'm blue for you

Over the humming engine noise
I listen close to your voice,
each word and silence,
each breath full of things left unsaid
and I feel blue,
I'm blue for you

I wish I could take away your pain,
I wish I could make you whole and strong again
I wish I could cry dry all your tears,
I wish I could banish all the dark and fears
but I just feel blue,
I'm blue for you

Above the veil of clouds
I see Blue Wings against blue skies
and I'm sick of feeling blue,
there are other colours, too

I can show you the whole rainbow
if you just let me to.

Body Language

2011-09-11T18:19:00.007+01:00

I long to write the sweetest poetry,
translating, transcribing this feeling

with fingers, drawing words of desire,
spelling out my passion onto your skin.

I long to write the sweetest poetry,
author sonnets of pure rapture

with kisses, composing odes and elegies
in honour of your luscious libertine lips,

dancing to an euphoric rhythm of harmony,
moonstruck melodies moving our serpentine hips.

I long to write the sweetest poetry,
engrave your name onto the universal soul

with leonine lyric, in virtuous verse,
incandescent letters of unconditional love.

Echoes of Emptiness

2011-09-07T02:28:00.003+01:00

I'm standing by the edge of a black hole,
a whirlpool of bitterness threatening
to slowly suck out all the joy, love, inspiration
that once filled this mind with words and visions

I'm looking into the depths of an abyss,
a bottomless well of lost hope and broken dreams
knocked-down confidence mocking me with mediocrity
like a jester in a court of cynics

I'm shouting in a forest of dead trees,
skeleton trunks echoing emptiness
imagination deserted of serendipity, abandoned by the muses
ready to leap into the sharp rocks in a saturnine sea below

A New Dawn

2011-06-19T07:06:00.005+01:00

So life's been a bit of a bitch in the last five weeks. Up and down, up and down, like a friggin' yo-yo. Tough shit, love. Deal with it. And dealt with it I have. It's not always easy going down the "every cloud has a silver lining" route, but luckily I've had enough practice over the years to keep my head up despite the burdens that life tries to pile upon my shoulders. So even in times of turmoil I usually manage to keep focused on the light at the end of the tunnel. And as it happens, good things come to those who expect good things to come!

Well, looks like my car in the roller coaster of life is steadily headed up for a change. I have new digs sorted out to move into early next month, and I'll be sharing a flat with a person who is a great inspiration and a source of creative energy - let's hope it works out! I've signed up with the Open University to finish my degree (Greek and Roman mythology anyone?). And I have a great job at the Open University, too - I've seriously never worked in a company that makes their employees feel so appreciated, what a lovely way to make a return into full-time employment! I hope I'll still feel the same about it six months down the line when my contract finishes. And to top it all off, a random encounter with The Coolest Estonians Ever™ last night made one of my biggest plans for the summer possible: I found a person to hitch-hike home with! Well, to Tallinn to be precise, but it's only a few hours ferry trip away from Helsinki.

I'm already looking forward to the trans-European adventure like no tomorrow! France, Belgium, Luxembourg, The Netherlands (Amster-fucking-dam, here I come...FINALLY!), Germany, Czech Republic, Poland, Lithuania, Latvia...Europe is our playground for a few days in August!

And then it's Home: sauna, salmiakki, cottage life, Helsinki, Big Sister, Henna, lakes and forests, momma's reindeer stew, listening to dad's random stories about the 'olden days' when he was either getting into trouble making mischief with his brothers or travelling around Finland and Russia, blueberry pie ice cream, cheesy Finnish oldies goldies music, salt pickled gherkins, Otto, swimming in the lake naked, cloudberries, my oldest friend the neighbour's goofy kid, visiting my nephew in the joint, miles long shelves of pick'n'mix sweets and dozens of different flavoured fruity ciders in the supermarket, walking in the dewy grass in the middle of the night and watching the moon and the stars while sitting at the end of the pier listening to the waves and smelling the wind...oh, I'm already there.

End of an Era

2011-06-16T01:12:00.014+01:00

In my experience, moving in with a good friend is a very bad idea. I have done it twice before, and twice before I have bitterly fallen out with the friend I moved in with. When my closest friend (here in Manchester) and I started planning living together I was apprehensive. I worried about the consequences of us, two incredibly strong and stubborn women, living together under the same roof. We talked about it to some extent, I expressed my worries, but we concluded that our friendship was strong enough to put to the test and that we'd have a great time living together.

Then things started really happening, the ball got rolling faster than anyone could have imagined. My friend moved in the house in less than favourable circumstances - we were already in a middle of a minor dispute. I am not one to welcome sudden changes in my personal life with open arms, no matter how big or small. I need notice, time to adapt to changes, and I found it very difficult to adjust myself to the changing circumstances and the intensity with which those changes were taking place. On top of that, I was jealous of the time my friend spent with her new boyfriend, and I reacted badly. I threw tantrums and behaved like a selfish child, causing my friend to tread on eggshells around me.

The final straw broke the camel's back only yesterday. We had an argument over my academic studies: I failed to hand in my final assignments (for reasons that are still unclear to me), and since I revealed this to my completely shocked friend a while ago she's been trying to persuade me to take action to finish my degree elsewhere. Yesterday she was going about it in a very forceful manner, literally saying she wants to force me into finishing my degree. It's a big fault of mine, but I don't take pressure to do anything from anyone. The more I am pushed into one direction, the more I fight to go the other way. And I am ridiculously proud and independent, I might listen to what advice people have to give, but I prefer to make my own mistakes and learn from them. So once again, I reacted badly.

I got so angry with her stubbornly trying to change my equally stubborn stance that I had to walk out to avoid going berserk. I knew if I had stayed in the situation for much longer I wouldn't have been able to control myself or my actions. A couple of hours later, still upset but somewhat calmer, I went to knock on her door to try and talk things over. Only to be faced with rejection and refusal to discuss the situation, which upset me even more.

Since the first weeks and the first arguments with my friend I have been seriously thinking about moving out. It's what I did when I fell out with my bestest friend with whom I'd been friends since the first day of college. We didn't talk to each other for two weeks after, until we finally made peace and concluded that we should never ever share a house again. She's still my all time bestest chum (though it has got be mentioned that these days we live in different countries, whether the distance has any contributing factor to the strength of our friendship, I don't know). Similarly, when I moved into the flat of my Spanish best friend, it didn't take us long to be driving each other up the walls of the one bed flat. She had already planned to move out before our friendship soured, but when she did leave we were in very bad terms. We didn't have any communication for months, until one day I received a lovely message from her saying how much she missed me and how she wanted to put the past behind and be friends again.

Today again I'm in a situation where I have pushed one of my closest friend to the point that she doesn't want to be friends any more. I know full well how immature my behaviour can be at times and what a demanding personality I am to my close ones, but to my defence, until today I had no idea how difficult my friend has found dealing with my temper and controlling tendencies. Right now, after all the tumult and turmoil has calmed down and I have been able to let out and express all the anger and frustration that's been simmering inside, I can see both of our sides objectively.

Yes, I have been a right bitch to my friend, I have treated very badly a person who for the last five years has stood by my side and given me all the support I have ever needed. But at the same time, how could I have ever known the real extent of my actions if she didn't tell me? My friend hates confrontation, and her way of dealing with bad vibes is to brush them under the carpet. My way of dealing with tension and awkward situations is to face them. I hate confrontation, too, but I prefer to have a full-on explosive shouting match if it clears the air. What I can't stand is harbouring the negative feelings and pretending everything is fine. The longer I have to suppress a feeling, the stronger and more powerful the emotional eruption that finally and inevitably follows. I did that many enough years in the past, suppressing anger, and it drove me into depression. We are human beings because we feel, we have emotions, and we have those emotions so that we can express them and learn about ourselves and grow as human beings by acknowledging them.

Another point I feel valid to raise is the difference of conditional and unconditional love. Unconditional love means giving away freely, loving another person without restrictions and conditions. That to me is the real love, love at its purest, most beautiful form. It's also probably the most difficult way of loving, as we humans are conditioned by the society to live our lives in the terms of other people. To love conditionally. I'd rather be the outcast who is true to herself and be called selfish for it than submit to the will of others to gain acceptance, to feel worthy of their love.

It's not the first time I've been called selfish by someone I love dearly. I accept their view that I am selfish. But the way I see it, they have every right and the freedom to tell me off when I step out of the line. How will I ever be able to learn from my mistakes and grow if no one points those mistakes out to me? If I unwittingly hurt someone, how will I know the extent of their heartache if they don't show me how much I have hurt them? I am very sensitive to people's feelings, but I'm not perceptive enough to know how to read people's minds! And I won't stop loving someone just because they show me my weak spots. Even if I might take offence initially, I do listen to what they have to say and analyse it to shreds, take on board the lessons and try and make the necessary changes in myself. If it means the end of a friendship, then so be it. It may be selfish to think this way, but I have got so much out of the five years I have known this particular friend that I will be forever grateful to have met her and to have had the pleasure to know her and learn from her.

Maybe one day, after all the dust has settled, we will patch things up. Maybe not. Sometimes people just grow apart. I saw a coaster in a pub on Saturday with a quote by Jim Morrison printed on, one that I very much adhere to: "A friend is someone who gives you total freedom to be yourself - and especially to feel, or not feel. Whatever you happen to be feeling at any moment is fine with them. That's what real love amounts to - letting a person be what he really is." That's the kind of friendship I value, and I hope the next poor person who will have to put up living with me will be brave enough to openly and honestly put me back into my place when I fly off the handle.

Vanishing Point

2011-06-15T21:29:00.004+01:00

As long as she could remember, her favourite secret fantasy had always been to disappear. Vanish without a trace, like smoke evanescent in the air. As a little girl she'd often stand by the highway number eight running near her house in the middle of a nightless and white summer night, longingly gazing south and dreaming of the day she'd pluck up the courage to stand there with a bag hanging over her shoulder, an arm stretched out and the thumb of a fisted hand proudly sticking up to the sky.

She never planned her escape further than that, where to go or what to do when she'd get there. She knew she'd be fine, that things would sort themselves out. It was the solitude of freedom that gave her solace when life and the oppression of reality got too much for her gentle soul and adventurous nature. She found herself escaping into her romantic dreams more and more often as she grew older, until one fine July morning when her mother knocked on her door to wake her for breakfast. There was no answer, no one in the bedroom. She had escaped.

Tom Waits

2011-06-12T13:47:00.001+01:00

Tom Waits.
Tom Waits and Waits.
Tom Waits, Tom Waits, Tom Waits.
Tom Waits, Waits, Waits, Waits.
Tom always Waits.
Tom Waits and Waits and Waits.
Tom Waits for nothing.
Tom Waits for everything.
Tom fucking Waits.
Tom Waits.

Today The March Of The Butterflies Stopped

2011-06-08T01:36:00.007+01:00

Today the march of the butterflies stopped.

All week long it's been going on,
the rhythmic pitter-patter at the bottom of my belly,
the flapping and fluttering of a sea of silky wings,
the racing and pacing of imaginary insect things
giving birth to tornadoes and hurricanes,
creating havoc in my inner landscapes,
making space for change.

Thousands of tiny feet

tucked in minuscule steel-toed Doc Martens

stomping and stamping,

clomping and tramping,

tapping out in unison

a merciless message in Morse code:

WAKE UP! WAKE UP! WAKE UP!

And today the march of the butterflies stopped.

Are they resting, or just jesting
while weaving
the caterpillar
into a chrysalis, inside out?

Transformation, metamorphosis -
I welcome
the wings that transport
onto new spheres.

Philomene

2011-06-08T01:17:00.002+01:00

Talk to me, Philomene
under a cherry blossom tree
while soft pink petals
slowly snow down on us

Talk to me, Philomene
and let me caress your chestnut hair
while you smile at the sun
playing peekaboo through treetops

Talk to me, Philomene
about love and lust
so passionate and powerful
that memories paint red apples on your cheeks

Talk to me, Philomene
in a language I don't understand
and I can listen close
to all the honeyed tones of your voice

Talk to me, Philomene
ask me about the meaning of time
so that I'll fall deep in thought
and forget about kissing your raspberry lips

The Pawn Shop

2011-05-23T17:10:00.000+01:00

I pawned my porn

in a pawn shop

next door to the porn shop

that's next to the pawn shop

that sells pawned porn

from the porn shop

next to the pawn shop

that sells pawned porn
from the porn shop
next door

Ice Hockey World Champions 2011

2011-05-18T17:09:00.001+01:00

Photo from here.

I Wish You Played Me Like You Play Your Guitar

2011-05-18T14:33:00.003+01:00

Strong thumb caresses
back of the neck
Soft hand slides
smoothly down

Every touch
of electrifying fingertips
is a cry of pleasure,
satisfaction

Holding the curved body
firmly against your hips
you rock out
as Clonesome
climbs to a crescendo

No Return Guarantee

2011-05-02T13:11:00.008+01:00

A smoky bar

down town alley cats

drinking, feeding, high
on common rats

bluesy rhythms make love

with the fingers of misspent youth

where is the truth

in this 'reality'

full of sexual promiscuity

among friends

Easter ends

the bunnies hunting for honeys

and the bazooka man

is not the one

singing off key, hideously

imitating Bob Dylan

"because I can"

but I love Jesus

he's just alright

yeah I've seen you

looking at me

you're curious, I'm hot

"Who's this bird,

this horny harlot

who adores young men

with beards and guitars"

at the bar he leans over

and asks how you are

the first connection

feel the attraction

electrifying looks

the oldest tricks in the book
shy smiles, sly eyes

cowgirls, toyboys

the pace picks up

and you pick up me

without reading the small print:

no return guarantee!

Instant Affinity

2011-05-02T12:54:00.002+01:00

He spoke to me

in the language of the gods

our hearts, our souls

singing in perfect harmony

The seas became still,

the sun cast the world

in the golden light of

Lapland on a midsummer night

Space enclosed

us in its endless embrace

and for a moment

we were men on the moon

Agape

2011-05-02T12:19:00.000+01:00

I once loved a man

who took the pieces of my heart

and in his gentle palms

he healed me, made me whole.

He loved me so,

he wanted to make me his own,

keep my heart in a box

wrapped in chains and locked.

But when I was strong,

ready to spread my wings and fly,

I broke free, he broke my heart,

then let me go.

Still, I love him so.

I once loved a man

who held me tight

for a night,

he looked deep into my eyes

and searched my soul.

All the hurts of the world,

all the pain washed away

with a shower of love

and the first spring rain

But when I had to go

he looked away

never turning back to me again.

Yet I love him so.

I'll always love a man

who sets me free,

watching me fly high

over the rainbow arched sky.

His love is free,

he doesn't want to keep me

in boxes or chains.

And when I'm ready,

when I go

he waits for me

to come back again.

That's how I know

he loves me so.

Rant.

2011-05-02T09:08:00.003+01:00

Are you just one of those who makes a lot of noise

but actually does fuck all to bring about the revolution,

like the generations before who you despise and criticise

sitting on your bum with a smug grin on all day long

while the people you so jealously pick on

carry on working towards their dreams quietly,

is hatred really ingrained in you to such extremes

you cannot see the good things handed to you on silver plates,

the opportunities to change the world, yourself,

to carve your name in the slates of history

don't you know how it irritates seeing bright young stars

too scared of scars or falling to shoot off far

turn into petty bullies who envy those with all the “luck”–

listen Duck, it's not luck, it's confidence and character,

you don't get that from books or with good looks,

it's developed through persistence,

by being knocked down and rising up again

to show the world you've got spirit and essence,

spunk and guts and lion-heartedness,

and it's up to you

whether you're the King or the Queen or the Jack or the Fool – it's cool!

But with choices and decisions come the responsibility

not to moan about the cards you dealt for yourself, consciously

think about it, it's not rocket science,

just the will to experience the thrill on offer

when you take the leap and jump in

the roller coaster ride that is your life^*,

it may not be the prettiest scene or the comfiest seat,

but it's designed to move you forward,

challenge you to aim higher, forget all fears

and to expand your mind,

live the dream and dream on.

What are you still waiting for?

Join in the Generation Y rebellion!

*Tickets now available at your local Free Your Mind ™ store

Rock 'n' Roll Jesus

2011-05-02T08:34:00.002+01:00

In the deep indigo illusions of the night

I saw your delicate lips of a muse

Coy looks at the bar, fire in our eyes burning bright

You wore the weather-beaten blues man's shoes

Playing guitar, the gentle hands of a lover

A tight groove in faded denim-clad hips

A black coffee voice caresses me all over

You've got me at your artful fingertips

Rock'n'roll Jesus, please save me with your sin

Rock'n'roll Jesus, awaken the Christ within

Standing tall and cool, you woo me with hot kisses

Melting ice caps around this Arctic maid

Take me Lord, make me your apostolic mistress

And our mission this divine love crusade

Rock'n'roll Jesus, please free me with your sin

Rock'n'roll Jesus, awaken the beast within

So strangely alluring, so God damn intriguing

You move and shake me and the earth beneath my feet

Oddly hypnotising, wildly mesmerising

You instigate eruptions with volcanic heat

Rock'n'roll Jesus, I don't know where you've been

Rock'n'roll Jesus, don't know where you're going

Rock'n'roll Jesus, please save me with your sin

Rock'n'roll Jesus, awaken the Christ within

Rock'n'roll Jesus, please free me with your sin

Rock'n'roll Jesus, awaken the beast within

Poster girl

2011-04-24T16:39:00.000+01:00

A poster I modelled for our insert[NAME]here Live #2. Kai did a fantastic job with the photography, even with me moaning about my flabby belly or non-existent jaw line. I did the styling. We worked on the post production together. A monochrome version of this will soon decorate the streets of Manchester...

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 30 – Your favourite song at this time last year

2011-04-21T01:15:00.000+01:00

A beautiful, amazing song by one of my favourite bands. Still one of my favourite tracks, too. I feel in love with my life at the moment, so the song is very apt!

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 29 – A song from your childhood

2011-04-20T16:44:00.000+01:00

When Twin Peaks was first shown on Finnish TV I was too young to be allowed to stay up and watch it. I often stayed at my big sister's, and she'd let me listen to the theme tune after the 10pm news before sending me to bed.

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 28 – A song that makes you feel guilty

2011-04-20T16:24:00.000+01:00

The cornershop guy to his assistant when he tried to pack my shopping in a plastic bag: "She doesn't like plastic bags, she's doing her bit for the environment."

(Self-)Published poetess

2011-04-20T04:35:00.003+01:00

I've decided to use part of the last student loan payment to self-publish a poetry anthology. It will feature 50 of my original poems, old, improved, and new. Right now I can't stop thinking about it, planning the order and illustrations (my friend Kai will be illustrating the book) and the cover design...it will be beautiful! I'm so excited!

I've also started job hunting. Yesterday I found an advertisement for a perfect job for me! I've been working on brushing up my CV, editing the sample articles to submit with the application, and thinking about what to write in the covering letter.

There are far worse ways of avoiding doing the final uni assignments due in two weeks!

Catching the Virus of Marketing

2011-04-20T01:30:00.001+01:00

This is an article I wrote for my Media module last year, the target publication being the Guardian newspaper. It's quite relevant to my current activities, so I thought I'd share it here, too.

In the golden age of social networking today, people are sharing information and collaborating online in ways that only a couple of decades ago were unheard of, or almost completely unimaginable. The increase of people online globally and the changes in consumer behaviour demanding more services online have lead to service providers and product manufacturers to look for new, alternative and innovative ways of marketing. As a result, viral marketing, a form of guerilla marketing (unconventional marketing methods that rely on time, energy and imagination rather than big budgets), has become the choice of advertising for a multitude of companies.

The term 'viral marketing' was first born in the early 90s, and popularised by Jeffrey Rayport in his 1996 Fast Company article 'The Virus of Marketing'. Viral marketing refers to marketing techniques that use social networks as a platform to increase brand awareness and sales. A successful viral marketing campaign achieves its goals of spreading the word of a product through self-replication, just as an organic or a computer virus does.

The advert or the 'virus' can be anything from a homemade video clip to an interactive flash game, an e-book, an image, or even a text message. Its purpose is to grab the consumer attention and create a buzz, making the consumer pass the virus onto their peers by word of mouth, one of the most effective methods of viral marketing, thus generating repeated traffic to a website and reinforcing brands.

Social networking platforms, such as Facebook, Myspace and Twitter, provide invaluable resources to both big advertising companies as well as smaller businesses, as individuals willingly list their interests on their profiles. This gives an indication to advertisers of what kind of products and services the consumer is more likely to buy. Hence, we are bombarded with tailored advertisements every time we sign onto a social networking portal.

The motivation to use a viral marketing campaign, as opposed to a more traditional TV or newspaper advert campaign, seems reasonably obvious. With two thirds of the world's internet population visiting a social networking site weekly - Facebook on its own claiming over 500 million active users - a successful campaign can go viral in hours.

According to the most resent research statistics, 89 percent of online users forward news, events and consumer product information to other people in their network. The key for the marketing professionals is to identify those individuals with high social networking potential (SNP) and create campaigns that appeal to their demographics. It is a cost effective method of advertising, as often the most popular viral marketing campaigns start from a simple, homemade video or a viral message that the consumer then forwards onto their friends.

A famous example of the most memorable viral marketing campaigns in the UK is the 2007 Cadbury's Dairy Milk “Gorilla”-advertisement. The video of a man dressed in a surprisingly convincing gorilla suit playing the drums to Phil Collins's hit 'In the Air Tonight' first ran in in cinemas and television before it was uploaded onto YouTube. It became an instant online hit on its own accord. To date the minute and a half long video has over five million views.

It is not just consumer products that have successfully exploited this growing marketing strategy. An early example is the 1999 film 'The Blair Witch Project'. The film trailer opens with lines depicting the news report of students gone missing in Maryland while filming a documentary about the legend of the 'Blair Witch'. Footage of the suggested amateur documentary follow with harrowing scenes of screaming and distressed students in woods, ending with a link to the film website. This created mystery around the film and encouraged the target viewer to visit the film website for more information. Several film-makers have since gone to use similar campaigns, including the 2008 science fiction disaster film 'Cloverfield', and the 2009 natural disaster film '2012'.

Viral marketing is an effective method also for the smaller fish. Music business, especially, has noticed the concept, as portals such as Myspace, and Soundcloud make it easy for upcoming acts to directly interact and have dialogue with their audiences. New artists can create their own fan pages, upload music for listeners and promote themselves. Lily Allen famously created her own fame via Myspace and blogging, choosing not to exploit the name and fame of her comedian father. Similarly, Arctic Monkeys refused to bow down to the gods of entertainment business. Formed in Sheffield in 2001, they gained popularity on their own accord, declining record company scouts entrance to their sold out gigs as word of their original sound spread via fans online.

The problem advertising companies, or anyone trying to make it big in the in the world of business or entertainment, face is that it is virtually impossible to guarantee that a marketing program will go viral. Even though Lord Alan Sugar himself has said there is no such thing as ‘luck’ in business, creating a viral marketing campaign requires an enormous amount of both luck and timing to successfully tap into the public consciousness. One factor professionals can rely on to some extent, however, is humour, as the Cadbury’s ‘Gorilla’ campaign demonstrates.

As viral marketing campaigns develop and become more sophisticated and individualised, one only wonders what will follow next. A funny and simultaneously creepy, dystopian image of viral marketing gone horrendously wrong can, ironically, be found online. The fictional video on YouTube titled 'The Future of Viral and Social Marketing' features a man explaining to his girlfriend that he is in fact working for an advertising company. He goes on to confess that their relationship is a guerrilla marketing campaign, the unsuspecting woman being an individual with high SNP and specifically picked for the campaign. As ridiculous as the thought of such a cruel campaign seems, sadly it could be the not-so-distant future.

Sankeys: Blow by Blow

2011-04-19T21:56:00.000+01:00

From the sewages of Manchester out crawled a monster more hideous than the light of day had ever seen. Her hair was dripping with sweat, dirt and vomit, hollow eyes stared out dead as a zombie's somewhere from beneath deep, dark rings. Mascara melted all over her cheeks and red lipstick smeared around her lips made her look like a lovechild of Courtney Love and the late Heath Ledger's Joker. Clothes ripped and dirty, skin glowing with phosphorescence, she climbed onto Oxford Road from underneath a canal and headed towards the first unsuspecting citizen, a commuter rushing into the office...

The first time I ever stepped into Sankeys Soap was in the summer of 2005. The place was yet to undergo their first major transformation. It was dark and cave-like, condensation dripped down from the ceiling on the pilled up party people that filled the smoky, sweaty space. I have no recollection of the music, except that it was too loud. I had never taken ecstasy. I hated the place.

Fast forward a few years, a couple of illegal raves, initiation to MDMA, and several much appreciated messy nights at the new Sankeys (the one before the very latest refurbishment). I fell in love with the place. I loved the dinky space filled with the same pilled up party people that had alienated me away from the club in less than an hour the first time round. I loved the deep, dirty, minimal techno and electro beats. I was a regular visitor until, due to work commitments as a club photographer elsewhere, I had a long break from the legendary Radium Street disco dungeon in Ancoats.

On a cold January Saturday in 2011 I'm finally walking through the doors of this haven of hedonism once again. In the bar a wall of funky bubble lighting greets the clubbers. It reminds me of the old Club V on 111 Deansgate. What the hell is going on here then with the happy-go-lucky house club effects? OK, chill. It's just some interior design. Beers in hand my companions and I pop our first round of 'sweeties' and head onto the dance floor.

The main room seems bigger than I remember – have they done something here, too? This is a good change, though, as I recall from memory that the biggest minus for Sankeys of yore was how ram packed it would get. Sure enough, the atmosphere is hot and sweaty as ever, the speakers blast out thumbing beats, but there is space to move your body.

Sankeys has a seedy reputation, and it lives up to it every time. At its most packed the club is full of strangers gyrating their bodies, but there is always a corner to escape to when the mass of people gets too much. Tonight it's an odd sort of crowd. Our singles team is checking out the talent. Mingers and gay guys mainly, but there are some lookers, too. A cherub faced blondie with lips to die for ascends from the crowd on to the steps I'm shaking my booty on. Later, freckled, razor sharp cheekbones cut past me towards the smoking terrace, and I spot a tall guy with chiselled features sporting a James Dean do like he's just walked in from an Armani shoot.

Unfortunately all we attract is a trio of hormone mutated beefcakes in t-shirts so tight I can, to my great distress, see the erect nipples of their moobs. Yikes. They hover around us for a while like some annoying flies. Two of them give up after their first few attempts go ignored, but the most thuggish one is also the most persistent, jiggering around us with a trout pout on his vacant-looking face. Finally he gives up, too.

Timo Maas is deejaying tonight, and I've been told it's deep and dirty, so my expectations are high. I like my electro and techno minimal, chasing the beats, raising the snakes up my spine as I dance. And dance I do. Five hours solid shape throwing like there's no tomorrow. But despite the release caused by tripping the light fantastic, something is gnawing me from inside.

It could just be the second pill I've just washed down with a long swig of water, but somehow the feeling seems more substantial than a mere creation of chemical enhancement. Nevertheless, even the drugs seem less of an effect than in the old days. Or maybe I've just become more resistant, I dunno, but my body definitely objects, as I violently wretch out litres of water onto the dance floor after the third and final 'sweetie'. Not so sweet now, I think and thank myself for having the foresight of avoiding solids before the big night. But at least I'm finally feeling some sort of relief from the growing distress I've had at the bottom of my stomach all night, as I wash my face and my locks in the club toilet.

All night long I keep waiting for Timo to strip all the light and bubbly house elements off the music and reveal the bare beats naked to us punters to catch with our contorting bodies. But it never happens. He keeps the mood and sound light and bubbly, and having especially come to enjoy some deep, penetrating techno, I can't help but feel dissatisfied with the music as much as the shaggability of the guys and the bad quality drugs. Should this be a lesson for me to do my techno research before booking tickets for a party? Defo. It'll be more in the line of Justice, Vitalic, Dusty Kid or Richie Hawtin the next time round.

The clock strikes five and I'm done. Time to go home and wind down. At least the walk through the nocturnal streets of Manchester still has the same calming effect. It's a chilly night, as my friend and I make our way to Portland street in the piss yellow street lights below the dark blue of the sky, recounting our adventures and misadventures.

I can forget about the stink of pill farts and vomit that have replaced smoke, I can forget about the beefcakes and remember the cheekbones instead, I can even forgive for the house club style lounge lighting. But I will remember the music and the disappointment. Although it kept me going all night, the music didn't descended to the depths of the deepest abyss or get stripped to the bones like I had envisioned. Maybe I was out on the wrong night, maybe the place really has changed with the times – or is it me? One thing is sure: the next time I'll be looking for a boogie at a more underground venue. My chemical romance with Sankeys is over.

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 27 – A song that you wish you could play

2011-04-17T12:30:00.002+01:00

I've tried to practice this on the acoustic, but I just don't have the patience :/ Awesome tune, though, and an amazing cover!

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 26 – A song that you can play on an instrument

2011-04-16T19:03:00.000+01:00

My recorder playing skillz are beyond belief! My repertoire includes Axel F and half of the Lord of the Rings soundtrack. No joke!

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 25 – A song that makes you laugh

2011-04-15T14:14:00.001+01:00

I'm a bit hung over today...didn't get home until early this morning. This tune is perfect for my mood, and always makes me laugh! Frank Zappa was one hell of a man! Just what my infantile sense of humour wants...

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 24 – A song that you want to play at your funeral

2011-04-14T14:30:00.000+01:00

My favourite Bond film with my favourite Bond theme and favourite Bond. With lines like "You only live twice/or so it seems/one life for yourself/and one for your dreams" you can't go wrong.

Pleasure doing business with you...?

2011-04-12T14:52:00.001+01:00

I love helping people, and making people happy makes me happy. But every once in a while you give a helping hand to someone who then turns on you, paints your name black and stabs you in the back at every opportunity possible and pisses all over your good will. That makes me sad, And a few times I've almost lost my faith in people because of such individuals. But there's no point in getting upset over such miserable individuals. In the end of the day, they are only being mean because they have some deep rooted insecurities that makes them behave in such an immature, jealous and negative way. I don't need that kind of influence in my life. Karma will pay them back in kind.

But what if you meet such people in business? What to do when you've done your best to help someone, shouted out their name to get it heard, only to learn that they've been sabotaging your operation behind the scenes all along? What is the business code of conduct for severing ties with such people? I don't want to spread rumours (even if they're based on facts) about anyone, I just want to be left alone and live my life in peace interacting with positive people only instead of the two-faced ones. But I just don't know how to politely say "Thanks for everything - now FUCK OFF and get out of my life!!!"

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 23 – A song that you want to play at your wedding

2011-04-12T12:34:00.005+01:00

If I ever get married, I'd rather have this song played in my wedding, by a small jazz band with a expressive singer. Something different from the usual Finnish songs played in Finnish weddings. I love this tune and the poetic lyrics (rough translation below the video).

You, It's You I Love

You, it's you I love

The night garlands my head with dark

So that I wouldn't see you

How the birds fold their wings

How waters roll underneath rocks

How the woods rise with the winds

And the rains from the clouds solidify into stone

You, it's you I love

The night garlands my head with dark

So that I wouldn't see you

How shouts at me the space

How scream the stars through my temples

How cry the children on the shores of the world

And above seas smoking hearts

You, it's you I love

So moves your soft hand

Like a boat on a river in the morning

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 22 – A song that you listen to when you’re sad

2011-04-11T14:47:00.001+01:00

This is another Finnish song by a band called CMX (acronym for 'Cloaca Maxima' that was the main sewage system in ancient Rome). They're predominantly a punk/heavy rock band, but on occasion they write beautiful ballads, too, like this one. The singer A.W. Yrjänä has also released poetry collections, and the lyrics of this song are just amazing. There's a rough translation below the video.

Rust

Hey
look how quietly
everything goes
but the years are short
and when the Moon and the Sun are together on the sky
I collect everything out in the yard and burn

So
books and papers
maybe also
furniture and memories
all lies that come to block life's way
all good things that stops you from seeing
It is rust

Smoke licks the ruins
You know how it feels
To warm your hands
In the ashes of burnt homes

Hey
look how quietly
it rains again
dust over the years
perhaps these murderer's hands, too, are looking for a head
to caress and feel the weight of the world
It is rust

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 21 – A song that you listen to when you’re happy

2011-04-10T13:06:00.000+01:00

I don't feel like I have to justify this song in any way. It's just a beautiful, happy song.

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 20 – A song that you listen to when you’re angry

2011-03-29T01:36:00.001+01:00

This was one of the easiest songs to pick on the list! Since I bought 'De-loused in Comatorium' the Mars Volta has been my ultimate anger and hoovering music! (I hoover when I'm angry, it's a nice constructive way of venting my frustrations. But because I'm so chilled out most of the time the house tends to be a dusty mess...) Also good for taking revenge on your flatmates that have quietly been pissing you off for a while... Ladies and gentlemen, I give you the Mars Volta!

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 19 – A song from your favorite album

2011-03-28T04:30:00.003+01:00

I adore Devendra Banhart, and anything involving him is intrinsically good. Like his side project with Greg Rogove and Fabrizio Moretti, Megapuss! When I first discovered this song I played the video non stop for days! The whole album is amazing!

Megapuss: Adam & Steve

‎30 Day Song Challenge: Day 18 – A song that you wish you heard on the radio

2011-03-28T04:26:00.000+01:00

Nothing further to add.

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 17 – A song that you hear often on the radio

2011-03-26T20:36:00.000Z

Whenever I'm at home in summer, my favourite place to be is my parents cottage. There the radio is always on, and on a channel that plays Finnish music and oldies goldies. This is my all time favourite radio tune that I always hear at the cottage at one point.

A Lover's Manifesto

2011-03-26T19:57:00.002Z

Someone once said to me "I prefer lovers to girlfriends." I have come to agree with him completely. Girlfriend-boyfriend relationships drain me out pretty quick, I get restless and want to get out. With a lover things are a lot more straightforward: you get the best parts of a relationship, ie. sex, intimacy and friendship, with the added bonus of freedom that comes with bachelorette life.

A good lover is someone who is able to commit themselves as a lover, but gives you the freedom to live your life and take other lovers. I guess we're talking about polyamory of sorts here, but I'm a bit old fashioned - or rebellious, depending on which way you look at it - to want to put labels on things. It's not just about sex, though.

All my lovers have inspired me a great deal. And still do. I've had lovers who I'm least likely to ever meet again, but still hold very dear. Love transforms me, like from a catepillar to a chrysalis to a butterfly I am metamorphosed, little by little by each one of the people I love.

Being lovers requires far deeper a connection than a physical one. It's about meeting of minds and souls, growth and development at fundamental levels of spiritual existence. It's about unconditional love, the willingness to love someone freely, and being secure in the knowledge that in order to love someone freely you must let go of all insecurities, the seeds of possession and jealousy. It's a tough cookie, I admit.

I'm not saying traditional monogamous relationships are a bad thing, not at all. I just find forming deep bonds with different people at the same time more gratifying in all aspects, I get so much more out of it in terms of personal and spiritual growth. The more intense, the better.

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 16 – A song that you used to love but now hate

2011-03-25T14:21:00.001Z

Again, it has got to be stated that I don't really hate anything, but the intense love I had for this song as a 13-year-old has noticeably faded over the years. Apulanta was my favourite band around that time, and one of my friends had this song taped repeatedly on both sides of a C60 cassette, and we used to sit listening to it (and other stuff that was 'hot' at the time) at the little loft room at her gran's, where we had our summer hideaway trading ice hockey cards and munching on Impi-gran's gingerbread biscuits. Impi made the best gingerbred biscuits in the world. <3
This song is rather depressing. It's a letter to a girl called Ilona from her grieving boyfriend. There's a rough translation below the video.

Ilona

I can't always understand you,
You could have at least made an effort
Although sometimes it feels like
Everything is pointless
You tried to explain it to me
There's no point to keep on living
I wanted to be the reason for you
To go on until tomorrow

You were a butterfly whose wings
Didn't carry far
You fell in the bathroom
At night, when I look up to the stars
And see your face there
I fall in love once again

You didn't want me into your world
Though I strived to love you so
You said it's better for me,
You didn't want to hurt me
When I saw you crying yesterday
I had the feeling you were leaving
Your eyes looked into nothingness
Sleep in peace little one

You were a butterfly...

And I miss you
A butterfly whose wings
Didn't carry far
Did not carry far
You fell in the bathroom
You are so far away somewhere
At night, when I look up to the stars
Your face there
Why did you have to go away?
I fall in love once again
Again and again
I fall in love once again

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 15 – A song that describes you

2011-03-24T06:44:00.001Z

This just seems to get more and more difficult! I had a long list of mint ass tunes lined up for this one, but had to reject them for one reason or anohter. Like too provocative (Pikku-narttu by Tehosekoitin), too sinister (Black Magic Woman by Santana), too general (Woman by Wolfmother), too off the wall (Bachelorette by Bjork) or too martyrish (Golden Touch by Razorlight). As usual, Paloma saves the day with her quirky style and positive outlook. This song is so me!

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 14 – A song that no one would expect you to love

2011-03-23T21:31:00.000Z

Today I'm gonna cheat and have two songs. My musical tastes stretch from the dodgy 1960s crooners to head banging symphonic metal. And here we have the best of both worlds: Gene Pitney and Thy Serpent. Enjoy!

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 13 - A song that is a guilty pleasure

2011-03-22T14:56:00.000Z

Oh yes. I used to own JT's début solo album...it's my dark secret that everyone knows about. Still, I'm not ashamed of it, Justin gets me daaancing. And he's pretty hot.

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 12 - A song fom a band you hate

2011-03-21T11:34:00.001Z

I don't really 'hate' anything. It's a bit strong an emotion. But I'm not overly keen on The Rasmus. I liked them way back in the day when they were a groovy funk band, before they adopted the definitive article to the band name and jumped into the HIM band wagon to make more moolah and international name for themselves. Fair dos, we all gotta strike while the iron is hot, but in the days of Funky Jam they were much, much more exciting a band!

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 11 - A song from your favourite band

2011-03-21T11:23:00.001Z

There is no other band that can turn me on like Led Zep, they are gods. Here's to Jimmy, Robert, JPJ and Bonzo (RIP)!

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 10 - A song that makes you fall asleep

2011-03-21T11:17:00.000Z

Agaetis Byrjun by Sigur Ros is probably the most relaxing record in the world. And this is my favourite track of the album.

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 09 – A song that you can dance to

2011-03-18T03:10:00.001Z

My last boyfriend has superior taste in electronic music! All credit to him for introducing me to Dusty Kid, an Italian prodigy who studied classical music but ended up making the most amazing minimal techno ever! Tough choice between his tracks, they all get me jiving whether I'm raving in some electro dungeon or washing up in the kitchen, but this one has got to be my current favourite in its beautiful simplicity.

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 08 – A song that you know all the words to

2011-03-17T00:19:00.001Z

Discovering the sugar-coated, candy-coloured “bohemian folk, bossa nova, and imaginary exoticism” influenced ballads of Ville Leinonen with their poetic (sometimes bordering on soft porn) lyrics was a pivotal moment in my development from a teen to a fully grown woman. My friends laughed at my unashamed and open love of the “cheese” that is Ville Leinonen at his best, but I couldn't have cared less. I wrote him fan mail, and was over the moon when I got a reply from the bard himself!
This is by far one of his bleaker songs, but I love the lyrics nevertheless. Could there be a more romantic invitation to a dark and twisted affair than the opening stanza? (My translation doesn't do justice to the original Finnish lyrics, mind.)

Cowboylegend

Do you want to be the next one to break my heart,
wake me up from a dream into a new nightmare?
The role for the leading lady is available

Behind the community centre lies a woman, dead
I released her from sorrow, shot a bullet into her heart
There she now rests, so beautiful, holy peace on her face

I stayed awake next to her through the night, caressing the black hair
Space was near when she belonged to me completely
In the morning I finally got back on the saddle, left that town behind me

Do you want to be the next to break this heart,
wake me up from a dream into another nightmare?
The role for the leading lady is available

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 07 - A song that reminds you of a certain event

2011-03-16T01:21:00.002Z

Creamfields, 2006. Goldfrapp played a live set. I was high as a kite on a ridiculous dose of crap pills I'd never taken before and I've never taken since. Feverish grinding against my ex during this track, he had to calm me down and keep me at an arm's lenght so I didn't jump him there and then in the middle of the festival crowd. Not that anyone would've noticed, or cared, they were all equally intoxicated on whatever.

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 06 - A song that reminds you of somewhere

2011-03-15T06:36:00.003Z

Murheellisten laulujen maa by Eppu Normaali is a song that apparently was originally written as a parody of (very popular) Finnish songs about miserable lives. The irony is that it became a hit and a classic that pretty much every Finn knows by heart. The lyrics (loosely translated below) tell a story of a stereotypical Finnish man: a tortured soul who is driven to alcoholism and despair by unemployment and general misery of life in "this northern and cold land".
Needless to say, this song reminds me of home, Finland, the land of thousands of lakes...and Thousands of Sorrowful Songs. I see beauty in the bleakness of this song, after all, it manages to capture something very Finnish, the melancholy that is so deeply rooted in us Finns. Or maybe I'm just being nostalgic. I dunno, but listening to the song and watching the video (clips from a film that depicts the kind of life sang in the song in Ostrobothnia, the region I am from) brings a tear to the corner of my eye nevertheless.

The Land of Thousands of Sorrowful Songs

Born as an innocent, by chance
to this northern and cold land
where his forefathers, drunk of course
beat up their wives and children
if they caught them

The common fate of a man
the boy wanted to avoid
“I'll never buy an axe,
and I'll never drink booze
or else I'll drink the house”

Banks of snow house the family in winter
“Although I never want to follow in my fathers' footsteps
But the dole office doesn't give any jobs,
the fist of fate holds the bottle”

And thus, Tommi of Destruction is resurrected again
and the manners of masters get a hold of the knave
Towards the liquor store he gallops

It drives a man into despair
when frost harvests the crops
From the centre of the cold earth
stares a cold eye
when the axe is raised

From the hills, from the soil of the earth
fathers proudly watch their sons
Unemployment, booze, axe and family
Banks of snow, the police and the final mistake

This land of thousands of sorrowful songs
of which thousands of lakes you may run in
A people, made of juniper, of whose level of self-pity
cannot be measured by reason, or controlled
In their songs are drowned all aces of life
and the gates of heaven kept firmly shut
they speak of
Einari the Despairing

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 05 - A song that reminds you of someone

2011-03-14T02:50:00.001Z

I have a 4000-word report to write on my placement experience. Anything to avoid doing uni work...

There are plenty of songs that remind me of plenty of people. I could've picked something that reminds me of a certain young man, or something that brings to my mind either of my sisters, but I've chosen to go for a song that reminds me of My Bestest Friend in the world, Henna. I don't see or speak to Henna very often as there's a whole continent and sea between us, but she's often on my mind. As a matter of fact, this song could be dedicated to any of my closest friends, but it reminds me so strongly of Henna because it was on powerplay on every radio station that summer when I had my first ecstacy experience, on Henna's birthday, at a fantastic party in Islington Mill in Salford. It's a brilliant video, too!

Pencilled portraiture

2011-03-14T01:20:00.002Z

My friend Nat stayed over last night. On the bed she saw one of my gemstones.

"What's that?" She queried.
"It's citrine," I replied non-chalantly and carried on with whatever I was doing.
"What does it do?" Nat nosied on.
"Magick." I muttered.
"Oh."

That was the end of that discussion. But I can tell you a little bit more about what magick citrine stone actually does. Citrine is a gemstone in the quartz family, like amethyst. As a matter of fact, citrine is amethyst that has gone through such extreme circumstances it's changed its colour from purple to yellow. It's a powerful healing stone that transmutes negative vibes into positive energy, and it's supposed to attract wealth. It's also a very creative stone.

I've been sleeping with my citrine point closed in my fist for almost a week now. It's clearly starting to pay results. Today I picked up my pencils first time in a loooooong while (a year? more?) and rustled up a few pieces of art. Here they are, in order of appearance.

Horsey!

A cheeky self-portrait

Faery Kai

Faery Siobhan

Sorry about the shameless self-exhibition. My tits are not really that succulent, I was being a bit generous to myself when I drew them...and because in the photo I used as a model I actually have clothes on. Well, underwear.

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 04 - A song that makes you sad

2011-03-13T13:04:00.003Z

I was introduced to Weeping Willows in a rather unusual way. I got to go interview my teenage heroes, Tehosekoitin, at the national Finnish broadcasting company's pop and rock music radio station (back then known as Radio Mafia) when I was just 15 or 16, and one of the radio DJs gave me a signed copy of the 'Endless Night' album. It's a heartbreakingly beautifully arranged record of ballads about heartbreak, and only in recent years I have come to fully appreciate the music and lyrics. It makes me ball my eyes out when I'm in a suitably emotional mood. This song is the definite climax of the album in all its misery.

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 03 - A song that makes you happy

2011-03-12T15:44:00.003Z

This is another tough one to pick. But there's one artist who's zany lyrics and catchy riffs or beautiful ballads make me happy and smiley, and that is the one and only Devendra Banhart. But even choosing one track from his back catalogue is bloody hard, I wanna post them all! But I'll settle for Seahorse for now. Love the lyrics and love the 60s influenced progressive melody...listening to this tune makes me withdraw into my own little happy bubble where I am a seahorse, too.

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 02 - Your least favourite song

2011-03-11T18:43:00.001Z

Day 02 – Your least favorite song
How's about that then, ayeh? What does it even mean? I've been racking my brain with this one for two days now, and couldn't think of one single track that sends me crawling up the walls. Then I thought of The Beatles. I was proper into them in my early teens. Obladi Oblada I never really warmed up to fully, it's too Paul McCartney, even though he was my favourite Beatle way back in the day.

30 Day Song Challenge: Day 01 - Your favourite song

2011-03-11T18:41:00.000Z

I'm doing that Facebook thingy, I thought I'd share it here, too. I started this yesterday on Facebook, so gonna post day two today as well.

Day 01 – Your favorite song
DIFFICULT!!! How do you pick one song when the world is full of great music?!?! Well, I'm gonna try, even though my favourite track changes almost on a daily basis.
Tehosekoitin has been my favourite band since the last grade of secondary school, and I love all their songs, but Maailma on sun has a special resonance, and listening to the lyrics always makes me want to be in Finland in summer, standing in warm summer rain.

Picture This (draft)

2011-03-10T02:51:00.002Z

dancing

in Polaroid

faded memories

of the future

dancing

in monochrome

shadows and highlights

of the past

dancing

in digital

pixel paradoxes

of the present

One Last Dance

2011-03-10T02:46:00.002Z

night
the black hole of reality

in your eyes
the aquamarine ocean is still
burning

illuminating our souls
the universe

my heart is cold as this fire

Not just any given housemate

2011-03-07T02:06:00.003Z

I love talking to my housemate Noel. Conversations with him always transcend the mundane. Noel has an uncanny ability to reach the deepest abysses of my unconsciousness, and talks with him have a habit of unearthing root causes I never was aware of to issues at stake. Often those root causes come to me in an epiphany through the conversation, a flash of insight and understanding just enlightens my whole consciousness, and I suddenly am more comprehensive as to why I have a particular feeling about a particular situation.

It's not just because of Noel's capacity of inducing that kind of transformative processes that I enjoy talking to him, though. I admire his analytical mind and thorough thinking, something I recognise in myself but from a different perspective. Noel is not afraid of speaking his mind openly and directly, even if he knows I'm not gonna like what he has to say, and I have infinite respect for him for his honesty.

I truly feel blessed for having such amazing friends as Noel for support. In times of turmoil, no matter how big or small, he always has the patience and ear to lend to my worries. No subject is a taboo, and he seems quite comfortable dealing with my intense feelings, which sometimes intimidate and put people off.

I have many other friends with whom I share a similar level of trust and openness, but Noel has become so special to me in such a short time just for the fact that we share the same address, and he is most of the time the first person I talk to when I have something on my mind. If only all men were so easy to speak to and as mature in their views, life would be close to perfect...

Almost Two Years After

2011-03-06T03:46:00.010Z

Remember that night when you thought: "Fucking YES!"
'Cause I liked your smile
I felt it, too, and
Like Jesus, I was ready to bless
All the people, all the faces in which I saw
You

Guessed it right, it's true,
I think I'm falling...
Through the rabbit hole,
Deeper than I could ever have imagined,
Floating in the air, high
On a drug called amourphine

insert[NAME]here

2011-03-04T04:16:00.003Z

So, I promised some further info about the mysterious zine and live music event project I got going on...

A few months ago I met a lovely gal called Kai. We both share the passion for good music, and love to go out to watch unsigned bands play. (That's how we met as well, through a band.) We got talking, and it turned out Kai's a graphic designer who was just finishing her masters degree in Communications Design, and I'm on the last leg of my Creative Writing degree. So we put our pretty little creative heads together and came up with the idea to create a "bandzine" (term coined by a prophet who goes by the name of Colin) for unsigned talent - bands, artists, designers, photographers, illustrators, writers etc.

The first issue is well under way now. It'll be launched March 30th, but out of the zine a whole brand is growing: we are also hosting our own unsigned music event at Venus the club on the same night! We have already booked all the bands and a DJ to play after the gigs, and everything is going pretty dandy! Of course there have been some clithches, but challenges are part of the game of risk taking and doing something new. But it's also very, VERY exciting! This is the kinda thing I'd love to do for living!

I've been going to a lot of gigs lately and seeing amazing bands play live. There is so much talent out there, Manchester is a fantastic place to live if you like good music, and there's always a free or very reasonably priced gig happening round the corner! I can't wait until the end of the month - although I have tons of work to do to organise everything, and on top of that I got my uni assignments (that I can all luckily link to this one way or another) and photo gigs and English teaching...but I'm the happiest when I'm the busiest!

Check out our Facebook page and like it to get daily links for great music and gig updates and general malarkey!

Under the influence

2011-02-28T16:21:00.006Z

Dear reader, I'm not dead. Just very busy. My friend and I are launching an unsigned talent "bandzine" at the end of March together with monthly gig events in Manchester. More about those to follow at a later date.

I've been thinking about career matters and what I want to do with my life. The zine is a project that will hopefully kickstart my professional writing career. But I'm not after fame as such. Actually, my main goal in life has for some time now been to be able to influence and inspire people. I had a long conversation with my housemate about good and bad influences last night, and having pondered on what was said I've come to the conclusion there is no good or bad influences. Just influences. And as with pretty much everything in life, it's up to you what you get out of them.

The so called good influences are generally considered people who are positive, clean cut, have a direction in their lives, and overall seem like happy folk. More often than not these people indeed do have a positive effect on others, or on those who choose to be inspired in a positive way. And that is all good.

The so called bad influences are considered to have bad habits that they (consciously or unconsciously) impose on others, like drug or alcohol abuse. They can be the best fun to be around with, but in the end of the day, you might end up wasting a lot of time on just enjoying the excesses and missing out on important opportunities.

But there is a brighter side to the bad influences, too. You can enjoy the company of a "bad influence" without succumbing to their lifestyle or giving into attempts to manipulate you. You can learn from those people, too, although often the lesson is a reversed one: what not to do.

Keeping in mind that the way we see every person is a kind of reflection of ourselves can be invaluable in recognising one's own strengths and weaknesses. Every characteristic you admire or despise in another person is a reflection of your own characteristic. Maybe you wish that you had the same wit or attractive personality as your friend. As a matter of fact you do! You just don't recognise them in yourself, only in your friend! Same goes with the negatives. I know exactly why I don't get on with my mom for long periods of time: I can't stand her narrow-mindedness in certain cases and living in the past attitude, but I know that I have the same stubborn streak (maybe even stronger!) and it always takes me a long time to accept and adjust to big changes.

Personally, it's the "bad influences" and challenging personalities that I find most interesting to deal with, because their faults highlight my own complexity and fallibility, and once I become conscious of my own faults it's easier to work on them. The "good influences" serve as a great inspiration to me: my older sister, for example, has always been my most important role model. I admire her strength and independence. She has achieved so much despite having gone through some very rough experiences. Watching her success story from the sidelines has encouraged me to be independent and aim high (though in my own way...). As a result of the inspirational presence of my sister and some very intense and challenging relationships I have discovered my own incredible reserves for mental, emotional and physical strength.

So bring it on, influence me people! Point out my faults (I won't like it, but I'll listen), underline my virtues, make me see myself in a different light!

Something for the weekend

2011-01-24T16:45:00.004Z

From the sewages of Manchester out crawled a monster more hideous than the light of day had ever seen. Her hair was dripping with sweat and mud, hollow eyes stared out dead as a zombie's somewhere from beneath deep, dark rings. Mascara had melted all over her cheeks and her red lipstick was smeared making her look like a lovechild of Courtney Love and the Joker. Clothes ripped and dirty, skin glowing with phosphorescence, she climbed from underneath a canal and headed towards the first unsuspecting citizen, a commuter rushing into the office.
"Spare some change, please mate," she croaked. Her cupped hand stretched shaking in front of her prey. The man, startled generous by the unholy sight, quickly dug out some change from his pocket and threw it on the ground before running away without looking back. She was too occupied with her preciouses to notice his flight. "Cheers love...thirty, fourty..."

Excited much?!?!

2011-01-18T22:09:00.003Z

Oh wowee! When other peeps go for boozeless January detox-regimes, I'm again swimming against the currents of normality by planning a SUPERMASSIVE BOOZATHON!

Yes yes yes sir! I wanna boogie like there's no tomorrow! And I WILL party like there's no tomorrow! Weekend in, weekend out. It's been quiet enough for long enough anyways. Well, I haven't had a drop of tipple since Sunday... But you know what I mean. A few cheeky guinness&blacks at the pub don't count! I want PROPER mind-expanding madness, dancing until the lights come up and waking up in someone else's bed, or alternatively, someone hot in my bed. IF I choose to go to sleep at all, that is...

Well, there's plenty of that to come this weekend, and the next. Friday sees me and Kai teaming up for a day long conference on our Top Secret Project (that half the world already knows about...), powered by mulled wine - thanks to my dear old Momma, whose two Christmas parcels, including two packets of mulled wine spice, finally arrived last week. Fork knows where we'll end up after all the giggles and litres of hot wine... On Saturday I'll be hanging out in the Northern Quarter: The Rimes are playing at the Roadhouse, and there's also a free indie acoustic thingy going on at Centro. I'm trying to attend both, if possible. And yeah, the usual photo gig at Venus...

...from where I'll be getting a break on Saturday 29th Jan! Yayness-ness! It's the day for Friends of Manchester festival kick off party!!! Two of my favourites from 2010, I Am Austin and Where's Strutter? will be playing among many, many, many others. And to top off all the winkle-picker/drainpipes/overgrown fringes-caused palpitations, me and my ever-so-enthusiastic partner in hottie-ogling and night-long-danceathons Frenchie will be shaking our booties on the sticky dancefloor of Sankeys! Oh you Radium Street electro dungeon, how I have longed for your sweat-condenced heat and dirty beats! Bring on the grinding! It's been waaaaaayyyyyy too long, almost three years! What the Fuck!?!?! Really. I. NEED. TO. GET. ELECTROFIED. Pronto.

But before I'm let loose on the dancefloor there's our epic house party to endure. On the Friday before the indie rock heaven and Sankeys madness. So it'll be one hell of an immense weekend for me. I'm already counting MINUTES while my liver shivers in horror-filled anticipation!

Drop all fears - love more!

2011-01-17T06:21:00.002Z

I'm an infinitely patient person. But if there's anything that frustrates and angers me it's people with insecurities so great that it stifles everything they do in life. It's even worse when you witness such a fearful disposition in young people. It's as if you've already given up on life and all your hopes and dreams before you even really got started.

What's the point of being so miserably scared of everything? What can you possibly lose by playing? Well, it obviously depends on the game, and the stakes. Any material losses can always be regained or recovered in one way or another. Broken hearts heal. Lost confidence can be built again. Dents in self-esteem can be straightened. All you need is a great deal of (self-) Love (IMPERATIVE!) and the rest will pretty much follow.

So you didn't get the job you applied for, big deal! Learn from the experience, ask for feedback, see what you can do more or better the next time. Consider your own attitude - did you go into the interview thinking you'll never get the job? Then you might as well not have gone at all.

So your book/film/insert-creative-pursuit-here got turned down. Broken dreams and a dip in confidence - big deal! Edit, revise, rewrite, whatever it takes! Try again! Go somewhere else! Giving up is an option available only for losers - you wanna be a winner, right? Take in any comments that come with the rejection and work to improve your masterpiece. The history is littered with examples of artistic genii who persistently pushed their work forward despite all the negative responses.

So you get rejected by someone you have a romantic interest in. First of all - well done for giving it a try! So many people out there won't even bother with the first attempt, thinking that that special someone is out of their league. Sure they will be, as long as you keep thinking like that and aim low. But for those brave souls who do express their feelings and get rejected, there's plenty of fish left in the sea. And if you don't like fish, check out the farmers' markets. There's someone for everyone out there. When you catch the eye of that mysterious stranger, seize the moment! Get in there! What's the worst that could happen? A cold shoulder, tough luck - for the mysterious stranger, that is! After all they have no idea what a fantastic opportunity they've just passed in getting to know the fabulousity known as YOU!

In the end of the day, whatever happens in life can be learnt from. If you learn to see things from a positive perspective and maintain a positive outlook when entering into new ventures, you are almost guaranteed a success. When things go not exactly as well as expected, there's still something to learn from the experience, to improve for the next time. When you see life as one big learning curve, there is humour and wisdom to be found in even the bleakest situations.

I'm not saying it's easy. Nothing worth achieving is easy. Where else would that sense of having achieved something come from if not from challenges and struggles overcome?

Therefore, it's important to keep going. So as not to become one of those embittered, grumpy old farts who regret everything they haven't done in life just because they didn't have the balls to give it a go.

I know I'd rather be that cheeky old nan who's tried everything her heart ever desired, sitting in a rocking chair with a whole galaxy of stars twinkling in her eyes, laughing at life's coincidences like a raving lunatic...all the while happy and content that she loved from all her heart and lived a life full of adventure and excitement!

How to achieve your goals

2011-01-11T12:12:00.002Z

The following is a translation from my amazing big sister's Finnish blog post. I hope it will be useful to all of you out there looking to get those projects finished and dreams made into reality.

Destination

To make something you want into reality, you first have to set a goal. Define your project; make a plan that describes your goal, a schedule that you can commit to and a budget – be it either financial or spiritual investment.
If your goal feels too far to reach, set clear posts for milestones and a realistic schedule to achieve them. But do remember right from the beginning what is your final goal.

Route and methods

Almost all endeavours require us some kind of personal effort. The investment can be materialistic, time or “a matter of honour”. Make clear to yourself your own possibilities, and if you need external help to reach your goal, find out where and how it is possible to get it.
When you take on a big challenge you have set for yourself it's good to discuss it with your nearest and dearest so they can give you their support on your journey.

Set yourself milestones

Stop to enjoy your achievements. Getting to the top is your main goal and you must remember it at all times, but it doesn't mean that you can't enjoy the view on your journey, notice new things around you and on occasion stop to enjoy those things you have already achieved. But do be aware that to reach your destination you must continue your journey.

Find out the risks and learn to know them

When observed close enough dangers become harmless and controlled; the enemy is the least harmless when you keep it close. Know your competitors and challengers. Only controlled risks are sensible. Also bear in mind that decisions made in a negative state of mind (e.g. tired or angry) are doomed to fail.

Be prepared for setbacks

The bigger your goal, the more likely you'll find that you haven't taken into account every detail in reaching for it, or that circumstances have changed. You might find surprising obstacles on your path and are forced to find new possibilities. When you are prepared to face problems, solving them is easier and it almost feels as if it's all part of the plan.

Ask help from old hands

Listen to those who have already walked the same road. There are no mountains that someone hasn't already climbed in this world, and every mountaineer can teach something to the others. Be brave, ask for guidance. Listen and learn. This way you an avoid mistakes that other people have made and you might notice things which you might miss without the interaction.
Get to know people (social skills always come in handy). Meet the right people, those who can benefit you somehow. Discuss. Share your plans and opinions. Don't rule out guidance at straight hand, but think how taking them on board might affect your own journey – but don't waste time experimenting on something that has no future.

Respect your body

Don't overestimate your abilities. You can get to the top only if you take care of yourself. You have all your life (take this into account right at the planning stage) so don't strain your body. When you are in good physical health you are equipped to perform better in all aspects of life. If you rush too fast you'll get tired and won't have the energy to concentrate on what's essential. But if you go too slow, you'll miss the train. Listen to your body, know your limitations and act accordingly.

Respect your mind

Pamper your mental capital and act according to your values. Don't whip yourself repeating “I can do it” – you know that already. Every moment spent reaching towards your destination is a step on a path of spiritual growth. Give your thoughts space to live, feed them with new stimuli (music, literature, conversation), let them touch the sky. Obsessions won't help you on your path, instead they'll awaken negative thoughts in you and take away the joy of making your journey. It is also a bad idea to use negative affirmations, such as “it was more difficult than I expected”, because they weaken your will.

Rejoice at your achievements

Whatever your goal (new job, car, partner, place of study, degree, travelling, learning to throw a somersault...) remember to rejoice for achieving it. Reward yourself in a way that is specific to you – sing, dance, travel, spend time with your nearest and dearest. You have made a dream come true and now it's time to celebrate that which once was a distant dream now being part of your life.

Utilise your newly found resources

On your journey towards your destination you have learnt a lot from yourself. You have found traits and resources in yourself which you never you existed. Don't throw away your valuable resources but think how you can utilise them in future, too... What is your next goal?

Teach

Many people around you have admiringly been following your path to success. Tell them how you made it. Encourage using yourself as an example: "It's all possible, I could do it, too!" Teach your friends and colleagues. It is not shameful to admit your success.

Forgetting the horse, enjoying the ride

2010-12-30T01:16:00.007Z

As highlighted in the personality test, thus far I've been much too occupied with the inessential things in life: men. Well, I think I'm finally growing up in that sense, or some kind of realignment of priorities is definitely happening here.

For a long time I've really not been bothered about thinking about a career - a C-word that has so far freaked me out more than its vulgar counterpart - I've just known that I really want to write for living. This last couple of months have been a real revelation as this blog has been switched onto a completely new gear, and I feel like I've found a whole new power station of energy to fuel my motivation to write. Much thanks to all the gig reviews I've done and all the feedback I've received; as a result I now have a newly found Meaning for my existence.

I wouldn't have got this far without a bunch of lovely people around me, either. I often see myself as a loner, a solitary hermit, a withdrawn warrioress walking the path towards enlightenment. No harm in that, I still believe, but maybe it's time for me to accept that the help and support of other people is as equally important as being independent. So thank you all my nearest and dearest, family and friends, old and new! Thank you for all your support, believing in me and helping me out when I've tumbled and as a result humbled myself to ask for your guidance and help. For at times I am too proud to ask for it, even when I'm in dire need of it.

The New Year is only two sleeps away. As this old year draws to close I'm leaving behind the old me of 2010, and welcoming the new, hopefully wiser, more mature and serene me. There are so many wonderful things to look forward to, new exciting projects to get stuck into, adventures galore awaiting for me around the corner. I feel 2011 is gonna be immense, it's gonna be bloody amazing, it's gonna be the making of Villiorvokki like you could've never imagined in your wildest dreams!

Prepare yourself world, I'm coming at you - stronger, faster and better than ever before! This is one intense ride I'll happily hop onto and enjoy with an open heart and mind.

"I'm with the band."

2010-12-29T21:02:00.006Z

It's really hard to try to review a gig (or anything) objectively, when you personally are getting to know the band and the people involved. So let this be a gig diary rather than a review, to get rid of all claims of biased opinions.

I was invited to tag along with Modern Alarms to their last gig of 2010 at Warrington Old Town House on Monday. It was the most interesting evening I've had for a long time by far! I was meant to meet the band and the rest of the entourage at their spiritual home, the Ducie Bridge pub in Manchester. I arrived at the agreed time to find the pub closed. I fannied about for some ten minutes, walking around the building to find some signs of life or familiar faces, and then I spotted Dom, the singer, and Fray, the guitarist on the street and, prior to that having mainly dealt with bassist Leon, promptly rushed over to introduce myself. Dom invited me to hang out in his flat while waiting for everyone to turn up and get themselves sorted.

In the flat I finally officially met Kai, the band's number one fan (she knows all the songs by heart, RESPECT!) and photographer. I've been speaking to Kai on Facebook for a while, and it was lovely to sit down and have a proper face-to-face chat and get to know this lovely young lady a bit more. Dom's girlfriend Holly was kind enough to offer us a bottle of sparkling wine, and I also met another occupant of the flat, Sam. I was very happy to have brought with me a bag of the ginger bread biscuits I baked for Christmas, at least I had something to offer (in my usual skinted state of being) in response to their warm welcome of a complete stranger to their home.

When Dom had finally been picked up for the last band practice before the gig, along came Charlie, another friend of the band who was also coming along to the gig. Kai and me had our own mini adventure during a mix up with the lifts, Charlie got in the car and we locked ourselves out of the flat. After a while knocking on the flat door (it's near enough impossible to hear it from the flat above, the entrance being on the street level) and walking around the building, we were about to resort to singing to keep ourselves entertained, when the door suddenly opened and Holly saved us from the rain and cold.

Next it was turn for another band associate, Anthony, to make an appearance, and finally Colin the Voodoo Dancing Monkey Man and photographer Stuart aka Stubeee entered the scene. So everyone was there and ready to go, we were just waiting for the band to finish their rehearsals and give us a sign. And then it came. So we packed ourselves into Stuart's car, Kai rang the next best thing to AA, her friend who lives in Warrington, to get the post code of our destination, and off we were, driving east on the M62. (Seriously, after this and the whole Stonehenge episode I'm so gonna get a road map of Britain to carry with me at all times. You never know when it'll come in handy...)

Fast forward a race down the motorway, we arrived at Warrington in good time before the band was due on stage. The pub was absolutely rammed and the atmosphere was bursting through the thick stone walls, as if the building was breathing in sync with the rock'n'roll and revelry that went on inside. The whole Modern Alarms family joined in, and spirits were sky high long before the guys took the stage.

As opposed to my usual gig going habit, I didn't so much concentrate on the whole musical output of the night, I have no idea of the names of the other acts, bar The 66, who I believe were the hosts of the night, and being friends of the Alarms gang had invited them along to play on the bill. The place really was so full it was near enough impossible to fight one's way to the front of the stage anyway, but I can reveal as much that just before MA started playing their set there was a singer-songwriter type on the stage playing his Spanish guitar influenced repertoire with much talent and to everyone's great delight.

And then finally, it was the time for Modern Alarms to go off and leave the ears of everyone in the pub (and probably around the whole block) ringing with banging, toes-tapping, Manc'n'rolling tunes.

Dominic Barber, the raw voice of Modern Alarms

David "Fray" Fraser, the man with the Big Red six stringer

Leon Kenny, the cheeky bassman

Chris "B-Ruckus" Brooks, drumming for the Alarms for the last time

They opened the set with S.O.B (Son of a Bitch? - or that's what acronymfinder.com suggests anyways...), followed by (one my personal favourites) the socks off rocking Supersoul, the yellow mellow Pride Aside, then Freak Factory, and (another favourite of mine) the superb Thinking Out Loud, before ending the gig with a such testosterone filled live rendition of Voodoo Dancing Monkey Man that all the females in the audience must still be ovulating out of sheer ecstasy weeks into the new year. It was the perfect finale for the band and quite possibly the most roof-off-blasting send off to 2010 in the whole of North West of England. Rrraaawwwkkk on 2011!

Colin, the one and only, true and original Voodoo Dancing Monkey Man

Colin and the gang going apeshit to VDMM

It would've been difficult for any band to top the sheer energy, but obviously The 66 were on their home turf, and rocked the night on with ease and deep, dirty blues beats. Most of us stayed on to watch the gig, and big hats off to the guys of The 66, they were brilliant! I sure hope I'll catch them playing live again sooner rather than later.

But for now, it's time to wind up the Alarms as they enter the new year, a new age, a new era. All the best for 2011, guys, may your love spread like a fever!

Non sum ovum runnius.

2010-12-29T06:48:00.016Z

WARNING: This post was born out of pure madness induced by hours of repeated listening of 'Abba Zaba' by Captain Beefheart, a totally backwards body clock, litres of tea and too many licorice roll ups. Read with caution.

Meet Zappa and Beefheart! Nope, we're not talking about the musical cult genii now, no no no. It's all about tits. My tits, to be precise. Yes, I named them after those madcap multi-instrumentalists, in a whim of insanity mixed with respect when I learnt that those two of my musical heroes had "a mutually useful but volatile" friendship. My tits feel the same, and prayed me to baptise them with unholy water from the shower head, and being a good and obedient girl that hears the prayers of tits everywhere, I obliged. (I am yet to measure the diameters of my aureoles, though, that's an entirely different project for an entirely different time and entirely different place. Assistance wanted, please leave your contact details with my secretary, we'll be in touch - tweak tweak! - with regards to the next stage of the application process.)

Next on the agenda: a piece of random chat room conversation that has kept me amused all night. It goes as follows:

He: I'd dip it in ya.
Me: I'm not a runny egg.
He: You'd be close once I'm done. Ha.
Me: The best 3 minutes of my life, undoubtedly.
He: Three and a half, actually.

Oh take me! Take me NOW! My egg runneth over!

...Well, to give the boy some credit, at least he didn't go: "I wanna make love to you, baby." So fair play. And as mentioned, this short exchange has been the source of endless entertainment for me throughout the night. If I'll ever write a film script, I'll be sure to add the aforementioned dialogue.

And now for something completely different! I've been making Cosmic Love all evening. On canvas, you pervy hippies! It's a late Christmas present to my friend. Actually, I started painting it for myself, but I was so pleased with the outcome I decided I can't keep it. It deserves a far superior proprietor.

'Cosmic Love'

Pretty neat, doncha think?

For some reason all my Crimbo present ideas are coming thick and fast now that the event is already behind us. Or far ahead of us, if you're thinking about next year. In any case, I'm gonna delight my ever so senile parentage with a cd full of the kind of music they should've listened to in their youth, back in the pre-historical times of mid-to-late 1960s to mid-to-late 1970s, in order to spread the gospel of awesomeness of Proper Music to me and my sisters alike. So it's a kind of reversed evolutionary gesture. The track list will undoubtedly feature such gems as:

Captain Beefheart: Abba Zaba
Frank Zappa: I'm the Slime (I only wish my dad would understand more English, maybe it'd shake him off the seduction of the screen for the 3'35 minutes the track lasts...)
The Yardbirds: Love Mum and Dad
Jimi Hendrix: Voodoo Chile
Janis Joplin: Kozmic Blues
David Bowie: Moonage Daydream
The Rolling Stones: Paint It Black
The Beatles: Across the Universe
Led Zeppelin: Immigrant Song
The Doors: I'm the Spy
Cream: White Room
Piirpauke: Konevitsan kirkonkellot (YouTube it and be amazed! Pioneering Finnish prog rock!)

Et cetera, and so forth.

Another pressie I have in mind is a recipe book. Can't tell you who for, in case she's reading this. If she is, she'll know straight away anyways, but let's just at least pretend to keep the mystery.

And that's it for me for now. I might have finally got enough of 'Abba Zaba' and am ready to fall into sweet, deep slumber, most likely dreaming of my uni mate Phill being made up by Devendra Banhart in an orgy of cosmic love and complete face-fuzzed gay madness. My quim is already quivering in anticipation!

Christmas cheer

2010-12-26T15:16:00.009Z

Christmas! The capitalist consumer celebration that the whole world goes mad for! Oh how I've dreaded this weekend with flashing images of depression, isolation and loneliness...all for nohing. I've actually had a pretty good time, thanks to my friend Nat whose own holiday plans went down the drain with Air France cancelling all their flights to Paris. Consequently, Nat ended up coming over to mine.

On Friday I baked 1001 ginger bread biscuits. You can never have too much ginger bread, right? Well, I've had a whole lot, and I can maybe still fit a few in, but let's have a break now. At least until I'm gonna heat up the next half a bottle of wine and mull it with spices...mmm! I also made some super tasty sweet potato and butternut squash soup, mmm-mmm!

All that before me and Nat hit the church for some carol singing and midnight mass. I'm not Catholic, as a matter of fact since turning 18 and signing a seceding form from the Finnish Evangelis-Lutheran state church I've not been part of any religious creed or community, but I do enjoy visiting churches and cathedrals, and on occasion I don't mind taking part in the ceremonies either. I'd never been to a Catholic mass before, and it was interesting to find that most of the liturgy was conducted in Latin and in plainchant that I've only heard in the Monty Python sketches... There was a lot of standing up, sitting down and kneeling. I opted out of the holy communion, but said my prayers to all my nearest and dearest through an impromptu flow of tears. Oh I am so emotional! There was the compulsory snoozer snoring on a pew somewhere behind us, and the priest made a joke about the very expensive central heating of the church. My only criticism was that the Finnish hymns and carols are much better. But that could just be due to the fact that I only knew a few of the hymns sang.

After the mass me and Nat walked home through the deserted streets of Rusholme. We heated up some more mulled wine, and watched The Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian, stuffing ourselves with cheese and ginger bread biscuits.

As is customary in Finland, I opened my presents on Christmas Eve. I received two: a parcel from my housemate Kati and an envelope from Nat.

The purple tree card is from my friend Henna in Finland - she took the photo herself! And the one headlined with "Oops!" is from Finland, too: from my friend Eve, who is the lady in the picture, her boyfriend standing on the background. They always send the Best Christmas cards!

The parcel contained a pack of chocolate cigarette sticks (forgot to add it to the assembly!), a tiara with the words "Scrabble Quim" (a nod to my skillz in Scrabble and to our last game in which we discovered the wonderfully quaint word 'quim' which is a synonym to fanny etc...) and a badge that says "I fuck on the first date". Classy! Nat's envelope had 70,000 Vietnamese dong and 320 Thai baht travel money for next year when I'm planning to set off round the world. Thank you for the smiles those things brought onto my face!!!

Yesterday me and Nat carried on watching films and other stuff on TV. The Queen's speech was a bit of a disappointment, I thought she would've by now come up with something more original than generic ponderings on religion and sport. Booo! In the evening we headed to Rusholme (where something is ALWAYS open, guaranteed!) for a yummy curry in a Pakistani restaurant called Mughli. I heartily recommend it, even though the staff was a bit overly eager, hovering around our table, clearly desperate to clean up and kick us out. The third bottle of wine knocked me out, and I headed to bed before 11pm.

Hope you've all had a wonderful Christmas time!

The Stonehenge adventure

2010-12-26T13:15:00.006Z

Take two immigrant girls, slightly mad, one winter solstice and a lunar eclipse. What do you get? A hitch-hiking trip to Stonehenge!

Last summer my sister flew over from Finland especially for the purpose of hitch-hiking to witness the sun rise over the ancient stones on Salisbury plain on summer solstice. I made the decision then to come back for the winter solstice. And I kept that decision.

On Monday evening me and my trusty adventuress companion Frenchie took to the side of Princess Parkway in Manchester with a sign that said "SOUTH" in an attempt to hitch a ride to this mysterious sun dial of sorts. We got picked up pretty quick by a friendly man on his way back from work. He dropped us off somewhere in Cheshire, I reckon we were close to Knutsford.

My memory fails me of who was the next person to pick us up, but I know that we got as far down as Birmingham area (Stafford?). From there we got a lift with a chavvy trio, a bickering couple and their friend, and they left us a a junction near a road side inn that was next to a lovely log building that hosts a very picturesque restaurant. We stopped there for a cheeky whisky by the fire, enquiring the two horrified waitress ladies as to where would be the best place to carry on hitching. They directed us back to the junction, and so we left, to stick our thumbs up towards the cloudy December sky again, in -2 temperature.

Photo by Frenchie.

The snow was falling lightly, the night was calm and quiet - a bit too calm and quiet, as a matter of fact, but luckily we didn't have to wait for long until a passing car stopped and the driver offered us a lift closer to the magickal henge o' stone.

A few more rides got us on the M4, to a big service station where we had some coffee and warmed up. I rolled a licorice ciggie and went out for a smoke. At the main entrance I was greeted with a smile by a salt and pepper dreadlocked hippie man. As soon as I saw him I knew he was going to Stonehenge, but he seemed to have disappeared when I went to alert Frenchie. We gathered our stuff together and traipsed towards the service station exit to wait for our next lift. But we didn't get even to the end of the road leading to the exit when an ambulance-come-caravan stopped right by us, and who else but our own salt and pepper dreadlock man told us to hop on!

"As soon as I saw you I knew you were going to Stonehenge," I told him as we climbed at the back.
"Well, you should've asked me then!" He smiled back. True. Lesson learnt: carpe diem!

Me and Frenchie sat at the back of the converted ambulance as our driver, Richard from Es-seeeex steered the vehicle down the bumpy, snow-covered roads of Wiltshire. And finally we came to the end of our journey, and Richard parked among the other vans and caravans driven to the little road that cuts through the field on which the standing stones of Stonehenge have stood since time immemorial.

Richard put coffee on, I rolled a couple of spliffs, and together the three of us sat at the back of the caravan drinking coffee strengthened with brandy, smoking cheeky doobies and chatting about all things spiritual until it was light enough outside to make me nervous about us missing the party by the stones. So me and Frenchie said our goodbyes, wrapped up again and headed out to the field.

It was perfect timing, the English Heritage men in their yellow high visibility jackets were just opening the entrance to the stones. We were advised the site would be closed at 8:30am, so we had about an hour to wander around. As we approached the stones I felt the energy of the site flow through my body.

"Can you feel it?" I asked Frenchie.
"Hmm. Not really." She muttered.
"I feel like I'm having a full body orgasm!" I exclaimed, oblivious to my companion's obvious disappointment.

As we bounced forth I stopped to take a few photos of the stones, but after just five snaps I gave up and hurried to walk around and feel the stones. It felt like returning home.

I observed a young woman with very restless energy doing spells over one of the stones on the ground, and there was a trio of modern druids dressed in white. Suddenly one of the Gandalf-look-a-likes started speaking louder: "We have a handfasting!"

Everyone gathered around to get a closer look of this pagan wedding ritual. A very animate pixie-ish girl with a string of beads crowning her cropped auburn hair, dressed in green shawls, and a tall, stocky, bearded man with a sunflower poking through his green duffel coat lapel button stood in the middle of the circle of spectators, clearly very excited and happy, judging by their big smiles.

I would've taken some photos of everything, but there were so many tourists around snapping away, and they started to annoy me, I didn't want to be one of 'them'. So I just concentrated on taking in the energy and atmosphere, meditating, watching people and the many corvid birds that circled around above us.

As the sun was rising from the east, and the moon eclipsing on the western sky behind all the clouds, the druid wizard man with a bad haircut called us to gather round in a big circle, and together we, the 30-50 strong crowd, hailed and blessed and prayed for peace in all four directions in a solstice spectacle occurring with the lunar eclipse for the first time in three hundred years. Shame the sky was covered with thick clouds, but it still felt like a blessing to be there. After each of the wizards and the witch had initiated their own blessings to the directions, one of the English Heritage dudes came to announce the time was now over and asked us to make our way to the exit. We were lucky to have gotten access to the stones, as apparently the English Heritage hadn't planned opening the site at all.

Me and Frenchie followed the orders and settled for our position to hitch a ride by the site entrance. I refused the first three lifts that would've taken us a few miles further, stubbornly certain that we'd get a lift back to Manchester. Yeah, that was a bit overly-optimistic, and we ended up walking a mile or two on the snowy banks of A303 carriage way before a very chatty man well-acquainted with local history took us to the small town of Devizes. From there on we hitched a ride to a nearby Melksham, a picturesque fairytale town, where we stopped for breakfast, before starting our long and arduous, sometimes dispiriting journey home.

We progressed junction by junction, until three Asian lads on their way to Cardiff "to pick something up and leave something to their relatives" (drug deal, anyone?) offered us a lift to Birmingham, and we accepted, happy to be out of the cold, nevermind the fact that we'd be making a long detour. In Cardiff the lads left us standing at a bus stop somewhere in the suburbs while they went off. Some fifteen minutes later they returned, as promised, and we continued our way to Birmingham direction.

They left us at a small petrol station on one of the smaller carriage ways miles away from M6. Swallowing back tears, we somehow managed to get a lift to another, bigger service station somewhere between Birmingham and Wolverhampton. After warming up inside the service station we began what now felt like our never-ending hitch-hike again, and finally a saving grace in the form of a Mancunian traveller, our second salt and pepper hippie saviour of the trip, offered us a lift in his old jeep. I was ecstatic to hear a familiar accent, as he told me the story of having recently lost his dreadlocks in a drunken fisticuffs with his brother in his brother's garden, and even more ecstatic when this cheeky Northern gentlelad went out of his way from the M6 to Scotland, and took us all the way back to Princess Parkway where we started our hitch-hike. He parted us with big smiles and warm hugs, even giving us some Fisherman's Friends!

Back at home, around 4am on Wednesday morning, the heating was still off, but neither Frenchie nor I cared. We were happy to be back, and weary from the trip we crawled under a mountain of quilts and fell asleep spooning each other and our hot water bottles.

The approximate route of our hitchhike.

In the white room

2010-12-20T05:38:00.009Z

I recently had a date with a very bright and funny young man. While I'm not sure if anything will come out of it, I had a very good time and he did the following personality 'test' to me, clearly to find out more about how I see myself. (Being the nosy type, I later googled the test and found out it's rather well known as 'the Cube test'. You can find different variations of the test online.) Here's how it goes:

Imagine a big, white room. In the room there is a box. Picture the box.

1. How big is the box?
2. What colour is it?
3. Where is it located in the room? Is it floating, or on the ground?

Now visualise some flowers in the room.

4. Where are the flowers located?
5. How many flowers are there?

Next, imagine a ladder in the room.

6. How big is the ladder?
7. Where is the ladder?

Now, picture a horse in the room.

8. Where is the horse?
9. Think of three characteristics you associate with the horse.

And finally, there is a thunderstorm.

10. Where is the storm?
11. How bad is the storm?

Now to the interesting part: the analysis.

The room represents your life. The box is your ego. Size matters, obviously. A small box indicates a humble person, a large box a more egoistical one. A white or transparent box is a sign of a person who shows their true self to others, a coloured one means you like to put on a show around other people, hiding your true self. A floating box signifies you might be a bit unstable or unpredictable, whereas if your box is on the floor you are a grounded, down to earth person.

The flowers represent your friends and family. Many flowers mean that you like to surround yourself with people, fewer flowers indicate that you have a few trusted friends. The distance from the box relates to the closeness of the relationship with your friends.

The ladder is a symbol of your ambitions and goals. A small ladder means the person does not have very much ambition, a large ladder is a sign of high ambition. The position is also important: if it's at a distance from you, your career is not your main focus in life at the moment; however, if the ladder is on top of the box it can be a sign that your life is controlled by your career and ambitions.

The horse represents your ideal partner, or what you look for in a partner.

The storm relates to problems in your life. A heavy storm can indicate that you have a very hectic life, or have just gone through some intense experience. Also, if the storm occurs above one of the other items in the room, for example the horse, it can mean that there is a problem in that area of your life.

Okay, so you'll probably want to know my answers? No? Well, I'll tell you anyways.

There is a small, white box on the floor in the middle of the room. The ladder is leaning against the wall, on my left. It's large enough to reach the ceiling. There are three flowers, scattered near the box. The horse is behind the box, near the back wall. It is curious, cheeky and stubborn (and quite honestly, I'm more interested in the horse than anything else in the room). There is a thunderstorm outside (well, the guy asked me to imagine seeing it through a window), and it's strong and intense (I love thunderstorms!).

Make of that what you will...

When I told about this test to my housemate Kati, she did another one to me and her girlfriend Shell. For this test you'll need pen and paper. Here we go!

Draw the below symbols on the paper.

Finish each drawing as you like. Then write three adjectives that you associate with each finished image.

No looking now until you've finished, or you'll spoil the fun!

Ready?

Okay. Here how it is.

The straight line represents your future.
The dot below is you.
The ring is your environment/friends.
The Y-shape is how you see religion.
The A-without the middle bar is your family.
The curve represents sex.

This is what I drew:

My future looks good! And I agree on pretty much everything else, too. The adjectives for the bird and the odd-looking vampire-like character were the hardest to come up with. The word I've blacked out is 'imaginative' - I think I'd prefer that to 'eccentric' sex, to be honest.

Surprisingly accurate, or what?

Dirty words

2010-12-19T18:42:00.001Z

Top 5 of words and phrases that make this modern girl see red. Simples.

Baby
Ewww, what a romance killer. For real! I'm 26 for fuck's sake! I'm only baby to my parents and big sisters, thankyouverymuch. And not too happy about them using the word, either, to be honest. When anyone else, especially a guy, calls me a baby I just wanna slap them, collect my clothing and fuck off. Only one boyfriend ever got away with it. And he's now history.

Commitment
I'm capable of it, just don't mention the word. It makes me squirm. A bit like

A relationship
Yeah, exactly. Way too mature for my liking. Let's just hang out, comprende?

"You look so cute when you're angry."
What?!?! Anyone who thinks me + angry = cute is clinically insane. Having said that, I have a penchant for attracting the most insane individuals. One in particular managed to turn this phrase to his advantage and actually had a way of using the words to make me laugh in the middle of a furious outburst.

"I wanna make love to you."
Tough shit. NEXT!

Yeah, I am a closet romantic, but there's a limit to everything. Don't try any of these unless you know me inside out and are 99% sure the effort won't backfire. Be creative, use your imagination! Otherwise I'm out the door faster than you can say "I just want some cuddles"...

Friday night fun times

2010-12-18T02:33:00.012Z

It snowed this evening. Streets of Rusholme turned into Winter Wonderland. Me, Kati and Shell regressed back to the mental age of 9, having a snow ball fight and sculpting a snow chicken.

Yes, a snow chicken. A chicken made of snow.

Even I got excited about the snow. For the whole of 15 minutes.

It does make everything look a lot prettier, even at a rough council estate.

We alerted one neighbour out of his house with our laughs and screams as we ran around throwing snowballs at each other.

"What are we making?" Shell asked Kati as she piled up the snow.

"A chair," came the quiet, concentrated reply.

"A chair? OK, so which way is it facing?" Shell continued the interview.

"Well, they can sit facing the street, but if they don't like the view they can turn around." Kati explained patiently.

"So it's a swivelling chair!" I specified.

An hour or so later I heard the neighbours come back home.
"What is it? It's a dinosaur! A bird!" Their son shouted upon getting out of the family car, before his father observed with a deep, manly growl: "Chicken."

R.I.P. Captain Beefheart

2010-12-18T01:21:00.004Z

Once upon a time I purchased a compact disk copy of Trout Mask Replica in Fopp, solely intrigued by the artist name 'Captain Beefheart' and the many urban legends that go with it. (I am shallow like that - I bought the first album of Kings of Leon just cause I thought they looked hot...) I remember listening to the album for the first time and thinking: "What the fuck is this noise?!?!?! Oh well, maybe it'll grow on me." It didn't, despite Beefheart's groin-tingling vocals.

I admit to it. I never was a big Beefheart fan. But I have a hell of a lot of respect for the man. There hasn't been many artists or musicians like him, fearlessly pushing the boundaries without giving a second thought what the music business moguls might say about their work. And I seriously doubt there'll be anyone else like him, at least not during my life time.

Here's to an innovative and inspiring man! Booglarize me, Beefheart.

NWP update

2010-12-17T19:36:00.002Z

OK, excuses galore...been so busy these last two weeks I've had no time whatsoever to sit down to make notes about my work experience with North West Playwrights. So here we go.

On Tuesday, December 7th, I spent the afternoon at the NWP office organising their leaflet stand (still didn't get my itchy hands on the archives, tho) and doing research online to collect a database of solicitors in the North West for legacy giving. I also did some investigations on PayPal rates for charities, as the current rate that they want to charge NWP for transferring money is over 4% - it's a lot for a non-profit charity organisation. We also had a staff meeting to discuss the next issue of The Lowdown, due to be published at the end of January. I was given the task of collecting new plays highlights for the issue. We also tried to brainstorm a name for a 3 and odd month workshop that'll include four writers who will get mentoring from an experienced writer. Everyone's creativity was at rock bottom, so choosing the name was left until further notice.

On Friday, December 10th, I arrived at the office around 10am. The director Chris was the only one in the office at the time, and gave me the task of writing the Christmas cards on behalf of the organisation, while he had to shoot off to a meeting in Leeds. Some half an hour later Yvonne arrived, and I wasn't feeling like I shouldn't be there on my own again. I finished writing the cards and started on collecting contact details of businesses who sponsor other similar organisations and art/theatre/culture projects, as well as continuing collecting details of possible partnerships for the legacy giving scheme (this time I was looking up funeral directors...).

On Tuesday, the 14th of Decemeber, we had our last Key Practices workshop at uni. It was probably the most useful workshop for me yet, we had plenty of examples of previous students' assignments to look at, and I took a lot of notes for myself. The workshop also gave me a lot of ideas for what more I can get out of the experience, I will have a good think about this over the Xmas holidays to come up with questions to interview people and propose something to do while on the placement.

On Wednesday, the 15th of December, it was time for the NWP Christmas party. Yvonne sent me out to do shopping for the decorations. When I got back I carried on with the database building, before we got onto organising the party. Some 40 people had confirmed they'd be present, and the first guest arrived while we were still putting on the table cloths, sorting out music, and opening bottles of (pretty damn good quality!) plonk. The catering was arranged by Yvonne and provided by her friend - the food was absolutely amazing! I went for seconds, and then thirds, and happily took home leftovers, too... The chocolate tart was to die for!

I was meant to network the hell out of the night, but surprisingly enough I get a wee bit shy around so many unfamiliar faces. Luckily Yvonne and Nadia were there to help me, and introduced me to most of the guests, whose names I promptly forgot... But there was at least one lady who I'm sure will remember my face, as her beautiful labradorite ring caught my eye and I engaged her in conversation about all things shamanic and spiritual. She encouraged me to attend the Buddhafield festival next summer, and should I still be in the country next July, I'll definitely do my best to get there. Also, it turned out the lady in question is the former director of NWP, she's bound have good connections in the theatre world all around the UK!

Finally, today I popped down to the office as we were meant to have the NWP Xmas lunch with Chris, Yvonne and Nadia, but it's been postponed until Monday. But since I was there, I made use of myself by washing up the plates and glasses from Wednesday (we were all a bit too tipsy on the free wine that night to bother with proper cleaning) and logging the day's post. I also had a rummage through the bookshelf, and took on loan 'All Talk: Monologues for Young People' by various (Aurora Metro Press, 2007), 'Duck' by Stella Feehily (Nick Hern Books, 2003) and 'Playwriting: A Practical Guide' by Noël Greig (Routledge, 2005) to read over the holidays. Yvonne also promised to bring me Dario Fo's 'The Accidental Death of an Anarchist', a play I've been wanting to read since my drama history teacher first recommended it to me ten years ago in college, but I've never managed to get my hands on it, or have just forgotten about it. Maybe this reading material will be enough inspiration and guidance for me to get experimenting with playwriting!

Going places

2010-12-17T16:59:00.008Z

I'm absolutely buzzing my tits off at the moment! The feeling of being a bit stuck with life that I've had for a week or two has completely diminished and taken over by extreme excitement over forthcoming adventures.

Been listening to 'Voodoo Dancing Monkey Man' by Modern Alarms on repeat all morning and afternoon (after the NWP Xmas lunch fell through the roof due to ill offspring). It fucking rawks like no tomorrow! Listen for yourself if you don't believe me!

Really, the drum & bass intro makes me do a little sex wee every time I listen to this tune!

Anyways, moving swiftly on...

So the plan for the build up to Christmas is as follows:

Monday
The NWP Xmas lunch has been postponed until Mon afternoon. My liver may rest in peace until then, this week's wino intake is at its full limit, thankyouverymuch.
The evening will see me and my partner in crazy antics Frenchie take the side of Princess Parkway in a bid to attempt a hitch-hike to Stonehenge to witness the winter solstice sun rise. Ya man, it's gonna be HEWDGE!

Tuesday
Return to Manchester sometime in the afternoon. Sleeeeeeeeeep.
In the evening Modern Alarms are playing a gig at Night & Day Cafe, a must see, can't miss VDMM played live!

Wednesday
A day of rest, or at least one hopes so. Unless you got any better ideas? I'm open to suggestions...

Thursday
The Last Party have been kind enough to offer me a lift to Durham to go watch them play a gig somewhere, apparently Bez will be DJing later, too. Ace of spades and a joker up my sleeve!

Friday
Christmas eve. At home, somewhere near the North Pole, part of my family will be gathering around the tree (traditionally selected by my dear old momma and sneakily chopped down and dragged home from the nearby forest by my dear old daddy-o) to sing and dance and make merry. Attempting communications with the technologically-challenged parentage, my sister will be there to help them out.
...Whereas I'll probably end up at Venus for the night to shoot the festive shenanigans. Well I might as well, rather that than sit at home feeling sorry for myself.

Open day

2010-12-15T11:21:00.001Z

One door closes, another one opens, right?

So, I'm in between 'buses'... Not for long, though, I'm sure. I quite like the public transport!

Rejections are a funny thing. It's a devastating prospect when you're in the process of mustering up the courage to spill the beans, but once you get there, the load comes off and you find yourself walking with a spring in your step again, feeling ten thousand tonnes lighter without the chip on your shoulder.

Today I woke up with a smile, despite my alarm going off at 9am. Normally I'd just throw it against the wall and shout abuse at it, but today I jumped out of bed and danced to the kitchen to make coffee. There was a piece of apple and cranberry crumble in the fridge, brought home from work by my housemate who works at a Viennese patisserie. It went down like a treat. Then I rolled a cigarette. Best Breakfast Ever (tm)!

I feel another million lightyears older. Spiritually speaking, of course. In other terms I'm still sweet seventeen, and will never age beyond, as was the pact I made with a certain Mr Morning Star years ago... There's something about facing your fears and taking it all in your stride that helps you grow like a bush of weed in the caring hands of a cannabis cultivator. My buds are about to blossom, groovy!

Soon, I'm off to help organise the first Christmas party of the year that I'll be attending later this very evening. Smiling with the Universe, looking forward to see what adventures and surprises lay hidden around the corner for me next.

Man, I just love life, the Universe, and everything else!