Which is nice. Even if there is no food like the one Made By Mom, there's also no place like home. But I did enjoy the food. And the wine. And the dessert.
Multiple times.
And on saturday I was invited to Nina's place to open up the summer season! Technically it's been summer for a while now, but it has still been raining a lot, so I guess it's anyone's game from here.
I was a bit tired beforehand, but I ended up having a real good time. Nina and Miriam even gave me a gift, and I totally embarrased myself. Once again.
Nina opened up with "Since one of our friends recently graduated to be an M.Sc., we'd like to mark the occasion with a little sumthn' sumthn'..."
And because my thesis is still with the language advisors, and I noticed both of the girls looking my way, so I gazed to my sides to see this miracle of a person who had gotten her thesis through.
Duh.
Apparently, they were confident enough in my swedish to wanna celebrate it right now, and even if I wasn't, and still aren't, and am going to be incredibly embarrassed when it crashes and burns, I was always up for celebrations! And from there on it was good times for everyone! Mainly for the Hostess with the Mostest, since all the guests used the drinking game we played to get her liquored up. We did very, very well.
The gift, you ask?
*insert evil plan laughter here*
Because as all my friends know, I wouldn't die alone in the woods in anything pink, they got me this:
These might be the ugliest socks I've ever seen, but alarmingly, they are also, hands down, the most comfortable thing that has ever hugged my feet.
I am seriously thinking about going pink just because of these amazing socks.
And that feathery thing? That would be a pen they got me. For work. Which I promised to use until my boss do us part.
They also gave me a comic book, called "kiroileva siili", or "the cursing hedgehog" for those less talented in the elfish language of this country. It's a little pissed off hedgehog, and even though it sounds completely bonkers, the book immediately topped the top ten-lists of every book store in Finland when it came out. Sadly, I couldn't find any strips in english, and it might be that excessive amounts of explicit words is something that only finns relate to. Anyhow, I've loved this comic back when it was underground, and I bought an early copy of it years ago directly from the author who was printing them out and punching them together herself at the time. I gave it to Joni as a birthday-present and he loved it. And I love mine.
Apart from being showered with gifts, I spent a lot of time chatting with Miriam. We've been study-buddies for a year or so, but we've never really talked that much, so it was a fun to really get to know her a bit better. We share a few areas in our life too, so it's always nice to have someone to relate to.
Of course there were other people at the party too, but I thought I'd post a pic of the 3 prettiest ladies there. Neighborhood only because I don't (yet) have their permission to post this.
I ditched the crutches on day 1. They're impossible to walk with, and I seem to have a problem with things that go in three steps. Mainly the walz and crutches, both of which I should be able to handle by the end of summer. Big, fat chance. They also made me a huge attraction at this house, and Joni had a good time shouting "Run, Forrest, run!" at me while I was trying to manage myself up the stairs. So I threw them at him away.
But today was a big day for me: shower day! And the way I have been smelling the last few days, it was probably a big day for the rest of the family too.
It took me a time to unravel my leg, because it has been bandaged so that it bears a striking resemblance to something I saw at the World Cup: the football. Minus the cool patterns of course. I had a lot of bandages, something resembling a couch-padding, dressings, some incredibly cool self-adhesive cellular bandage-plate-thing that had made all of my coagulated blood go superblack (or it might be because I am the spawn of... nevermind.) to go through until I finally got to see what the wounds were like. I have to say, by the looks if it, they did a goob job, but I was a little bummed out that they hadn't taken to my wish of giving me a lightning-shaped scar. I guess you can't have everything.
Showering was an anticipated event but a lot more complicated than usual. I'm not supposed to let the wounds get wet for 2 weeks, so by that time I'll probably make an excellent flamingo. As you probably know, iodine turns red when you was it away with soap. From your skin, that is, from your best white rug or sofa there's no point in even trying. Anyway, I knew this too due to one of my professions (duh), but had totally forgotten since I don't think I've ever used iodine to clean any wounds on myself in my entire life. So I had a nifty little pink science-hour at the same time!
The packing-up-the-leg-again didn't go so well. Having the attention span of a hummigbird, I had already forgotten I was supposed to wrap myself up. And I had to undo it after the first time because I used one of the metal hooks to keep the couch-padding in place while I wrapped the last layer of bandage. After doing it over and being quite content with the end result, fightin my way into socks and pants, I was just about to exit the guest-room when I noticed the unopened pack of gauze swabs on the table.
They were supposed to go in first.
I was soooooo nervous.
My morning began with me waking up to the bass of Joni's music at about 6ish. Since I rarely sleep over at my parents house anymore, I think he didn't come to think of how INSANE BASS might wake me in the room next to his. And I guess I have grown to be somewhat of an adult too, because instead of running around in circles in his room, screaming "GAAAAAAAAAH!" and choking him to illustrate my point, I waited for a moment if it would stop, and when it didn't, I asked him to "please turn that shit off because the bass goes all the way through the house". Joni, also apparently having hit adulthood, aswered: "okay. But please don't call it shit".
Me, ever the lady, restrained the animal in me that wanted to run inside his room, gather all technological instruments remotely related to music, carry them to the backyard and hit them with large sticks, and gave him an "mmh." So the first good thing this morning was that I got an encouraging text message from one of my friends, which was very thoughtful of her and incredibly nice for me. Even if she technically did wish the nurses luck in handling me.
From there on it didn't go so well either. I went to the hospital, and they loaded me up with diazepam, which didn't calm me down at all because the thought of needles makes my brain curl up in a corner and reach for its stuffed bear. The IV-drip, not nice either, but from there on it was smooth sailing. The anesthesiologist came, introduced himself, and when I countered with "Hi, I'm terrified. I mean Jenni", inserted 3 milliliters of what was probably sunshine, glitter and my little pony combined. I remember him giving me a spinal, which was nice, because at that point, everything was nice. I have never before experienced InstaDrunk (because that is what they should call it, no matter what it is called now), but I laughed all the way to the OR. And when I discovered that I was laughing for no apparent reason, I started laughing at my laughter. Noticing the nurse, I thought it would be important to let her know that I was not laughing at her, but at the mere thought of laughter.
"I think I might be a bit high"
"Oh honey, as a kite."
Everything went well, and I have a little less tendon in my knee to bug me at night, they flushed the knee with whatever you use to flush these things, and it isn't even sore. Yet.
And this evening Sami called:
"I just wanted to wish you good luck to your operation tomorrow!"
"Yeah... thanks... I had it this morning"
"Crap."
Ok, last post for a few days.
Tomorrow I'm going back to Turku to get sliced and diced. I'm a bit nervous and that alcohol-shipment Lies promised me still hasn't arrived. Maybe it was just intended for every time I get another part of my frontal lobe removed jaw-adjustment?
A lot of people have, during the last few days, convinced me of the fact that I need to practice walking with the crutches, and so I did. I came to the conclusion that I do, in fact, not have the adequate degree in rocket science for this crap, I gave up. Maybe it'll come naturally after I put all of my weight on a newly stitched leg a few dozens of times?
Being a seasoned pro at lying down on a steel table, I have prepared well. I washed loads of laundry and have cleaned the house in advance. I also made arrangments to borrow one of Sami's co-workers back here as a shopping bag next week. I hope his wife informs him of this little arrangement of ours. Still, even with all this amazing planning, they better be loaded with tranquillizers at the hospital. Impulse Control has never been one of my prime features, and I have a history of trying to escape from big, fat needles. Those nurses at Turku University Hospital sure know how to run...
As far as Sami goes in all of this, I have made the conclusion that he will be hearing no end of shit for this. No matter how well or bad my week goes, this is material I will refer to every time he wants to go fishing with the lads.
What?
Yes, of course I love him, we have a great relationship. But I am still that kind of person.
And if he still thinks he can slip even one beer down without me knowing when he hits this finnish homeland of ours, he might want to remember that I will have 2 grip-friendly steel rods to stand with by then.
Love you.
What's your favorite type of donut?
Submitted by tomatshonino.
The smell of donuts, just like the smell of yogurt (probably didn't spell it right?) makes me gag. I can count the times I've eaten one with the fingers on one of my hands because I have a hard time stopping my last meal from making a sudden comeback when I smell other people eating them. Bleh.
"...so how are you doing? Anxious to come home yet?"
"Yeah, although after a few months of work we are in desperate need for relaxation. We thought we'd start drinking immediately when we get to Finland but we haven't figured out a way to get booze to the airport in the middle of the night."
"Are you serious?"
"well.. yeah!"
"You've been gone for months now and if you come home in the middle of the night, smelling like ass and completely shitfaced, I am going to change the goddamn locks on this goddamn house and return the goddamn engagement ring! And cuz I'm still on crutches and can't drive you need to be sober so we can go shop for food on the next day!"
"uhuh? How about if we get a driver? Or come in a taxi?"
Yesterday was the summer solstice for those of us in the Northern Hemisphere. How did you celebrate the arrival of summer and the longest day of the year?
In Thousandlakez, midsummer is a paid day off, which means we all empty the cities and head for the closest lakeside cottage to get hammered.
Since Sami is still Far Far Away, Annika took me in and we revived an old tradition of spending midsummer at her parent's house in Hämeenlinna. I was eager to get my groove on, so I made the hour-long drive on thursday as soon as I got off from work. On friday morning I was already at the square of heavenly peace:
On thursday evening when I got there, I was immediately greeted by the herd of dogs that reside here.
Pepi here frenched me as soon as I got out of the car, and being deprived of hugs and kisses for over a month now, I was not far from spooning that dog. She loves me to bits and pieces for some reason that is beyond me, but I suspect it's because she knows I'm most allergic to her. The three other members of the pack, the minidogs, don't shed as much but are equally adorable.
On friday morning, we di what every Finn does on midsummer: packed a lot of food and a lot of drinks, and headed out to Annika's lakeside sauna. The sauna, sadly, was busted from only 40 years of active use, so we had to borrow the neighbor's lakeside replica. That is where we met our man for the midsummer: Batman.
Batman is "4 years old, soon six" (it must work differently in bat-years) and will not be featured in pics here to protect the privacy of his lair. He did, however, let us in on the secrets of owning your batmanism heart, body and soul, in the sauna:
"What's your favourite soda?"
"Batman-soda"
"Really? What does it taste like?"
"Like Batman"
Heart, body, and soul!
We stayed to watch the midsummer bonfire, and I tried to convince Batman I'd make an amazing Robin, but apparently I don't wear spandex that well. So, after drowning my sorrows of this unsuccessful career-change in a few a-mazing hotshots, it was time for the bonfire. It's a tradition here, to have a midsummer-night bonfire, but it's usually too dry or too rainy for that.This year, however, it had just stopped raining, and with the help of 10 liters of gasoline leet skillz, the fire was going.
Late in the night, we headed back to our lakeside cottage and went to sleep. I stayed for most of saturday too but had to come back home in the evening because I have to wash a lot of clothes before I head to Turku on tuesday. Unless I choose to walk around nekkid after the operation, of course.
All in all I enjoyed myself like a queen. Annika and her parents are always so welcoming, and it's always fun to go there since I know the neighbors and a lot of their friends from 10-12 years back by now. It's always fun to get up to date on what everyone is doing, and I really forget time and space when I'm there. I think I even got a little of the weight I've lost back because I was so totally spoiled over there. I swear, I was fed like I was going to be the main dish at the christmas table.
Once again, it was pure heaven. I can't really describe what a silent lake, good friends and good food do to a soul, so I think I'll end this post with a pic.
MRI-call! I got it! On the first day of my vacation, even, so I don't have to shift anything to go there! Happines comes in big, claustrophobic tubes!
And I have my doctor's appointment concerning it on monday of the week we're getting married. So by the time we say I do with our original faces, I will know whether I get a plastic one or not. If I don't get one I'll go on a killing spree be sad.
They have to give it to me because I could easily find a gun really need it.
JOOOOOOOOY!
..or how not to write a thesis.
This little book of mine (book! mine!) has been the cause of a lot of stress, a lot of times when the house looked like trolls lived here and I didn't clean, and a lot of "could you put it on mute, I'm trying to write!".
Right now things are good. I've stumbled across the halls of academia, and the walls of academia have been headbutted quite a few times. Now, I've found an exit-sign. There's only this one, big Language Advisor who is stopping me from running through the door by dangling the keys just out of my reach.
Language Advisors might still dropkick my thesis, but otherwise it is approved. So I thought I'd share with you how not to work this baby, since I know at least a few of my friends who sporadically read this still have this gorgeousness to look forward to. It's not that difficult, but you need to recognize some little things that guide you on your way. I didn't.
The key is to read your comments when you get the text back:
"Is this relevant for your study?"
Trust me, it isn't.Don't try to write about how, or why, this is relevant to your study, because that little phrase up there is academic for "this sucks. Make it go away."
"Why is this relevant for your study?"
Don't mix this one up with the first phrase. Here, you still have a little lifeline left. What you need to do now is write one or two phrases that start with "This information is key to my study because...", like below:
Some argue that bellybutton-lint is just trash. Researchers A and B have stated that bellybutton-lint might, in fact, save the earth. This is important to keep in mind while we further study the claim of C, who states that lint removed from bellybuttons is an excellent source of material for clothes
Or something like that.
"I don't understand the connection here"
Because there is none. That phrase means "this is poo" and you need to cut that argument out of the text.
These are a few sure giveaways, but remember to address each comment. when it says "discuss!" and you didn't they're just gonna keep on writing it up again and again and again. And if you feel bad killing your darlings, ie. cutting away text you've already writte, don't. They're just letters in a row.
Also, if you try to hide something into the text, like 16 pages of the letter K, you might want to rethink it. They will read the text eventually and find it. There's no place to hide.
It will suck. A lot, and several times. You go in and expect them to give you a standing ovation and they demonstrate that look! It doesn't even burn well! But just take it up the tailpipe and fix it. They are, after all, experts. You're not the first M.Sc.-student they've had writing a thesis, and you won't be the last. Editing text according to someone else's preferences is never fun and you might feel like the text really isn't yours anymore. Not true. It still is.
And writing a thesis might be compared to what I hear giving birth is like (minus the actual physical pain). It takes about nine months to finish (at the very least), sometimes it goes well but a lot of times you'd give anything to get to stop doing it. But still, once you have the finished product in your hands and can claim it as your own, you forget everything that sucked while making it.
Either this is tough, or I'm a big wuss.
First, there's this feeling that everything sucks. I'm lonely and he isn't coming home for ages. That's a little hump, and I need to get over it.
And I do.
I parade on to the next adventure, and that's when it hits me. Just around the corner is another hump. A big one.
This is the one I'm not prepared for.
Everything sucks. It sucks hard and it doesn't even suck well. It rains all the time. I meet with friends but everything still sucks. I'm blue all the time. I start to imagine him being home so much that I can almost feel it. I talk to him online and all he needs to say is "g'night starlet" and tears fill my eyes immediately. So I try to stumble on, but then comes the next neck of the journey.
I forget I'm not alone.
I am the only one at this end, and I have a hard time imagining him being homesick or missing me because I can't see it, and I can't hear it. I don't feel it.
I start to feel like he is to blame. I know it's his job and not him, but partially it is him too, because he did willingly take the job. If he loves me, then how could he abandon me like this? What gives?
And when he comes home I'll have a hard time adjusting to him being around and in my visual space all the time.
It's horrible how things like this bring out the worst egocentric characteristics in me. When did I become this needy person? It's okay to be sad and miss him, but when did all this surface? How the hell did this surprise me? Again?
And where do I go from here?
