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29 Aug 04: ...Is This All?

Sleeplessness persisted, and when it caved, toothache took up the task of making me again completely useless. Slept through the day, so that's for that, no matter how much I really should have gone to Pukkisaari.

Realised that another year has gone past, again, so went and read the entries two years ago and a year ago. And guess what? Nothing's better even now. Despite all the help and support and hope, I still can't be good for anything. I'm still lonely and deemed too difficult and unable to be of use even to things I care about; I still don't have a job; I still can't manage even basic subsistence and only let the bills pile and pile; I'm still fat and ugly and only getting older, as well all do. And my writing, the one thing that I secretly hoped would show a marked improvement over time - nope. No cigar. I can't even be bothered to go into detailed descriptions, as I used to do in the beginning.

One year might have been understandable. Two, not so much. It's as I keep saying to Liisa: it doesn't matter anymore. Therapy, whatever - it's no good trying to get me functional anymore; it just won't happen, if it weren't too late already anyway.

A lot to think about, now. Serious thinking, too - it won't do to throw stuff like this about and then not follow its implications.

28 Aug 04: Ugly Reality

There aren't many things that are as effective in reminding one of being alive as toothache. Unfortunately, not in a good way. Serves me right, whining about nothingness.

I got a scary phonecall today, from some strange man who clearly was not playing with a complete deck and who wanted to know more of my "knitted medieval costumes". For the first time ever I had serious doubts on whether it is safe to have one's contact information displayed on the net.

The toothache kept me up even further into the morning, so I was not in any shape to get up and get myself to Pukkisaari for the workshop day - so I missed the meeting for tomorrow's show, though I'd promised to be there. We'll have to see about tomorrow.

(Night) Right. And back to the bottom, all the way. I keep stringing myself up in front of the computer, unable to let go of the mouse and go to sleep, because I'm already in a panic about the Pukkisaari thing. Because my dress isn't up to snuff, and because I've been back to continuous eating for days now - and that because of the need to dress up and show oneself; because of all the new things one should accomplish (like getting a job and restarting those studies); because of the lingering ache over the past 'con and the next; because of the plans to go back to ballet; even because of a game this weekend that I never wanted to go to (not my period, not my kind of GM) but that a lot of friends went to, anyway, so now I feel like an outsider, no matter how sensibly I tell myself that I would have hated it there had I gone. I've also had to remind myself quite pointedly and repeatedly that it's okay not to like a genre, no matter how "refined" or "prestigious" it seems to be, at least by conventional reputation, and that it's okay that others like it, even so much that it may have nothing to do with the quality of the game or other such particulars. They just happen to like a genre one doesn't.

I had a more encouraging experience of feedback later today, in the form of a kind and frank email (that I have to answer ASAP, though not tonight, as sleep is finally getting the better of panic).

I also have to finish up two game reports that I keep procrastinating over, and translate some lyrics for Hyperborea...

27 Aug 04: Empty

Nothing feels like anything. Not actively awful, but definitely not good, or even neutral. Just... nothing. Void. Is this how living is supposed to feel? If it is, how do people bother to stay alive? The worst part is, I can't come up with anything that I even want that might then make me feel something. Not even things that I might have considered my wildest dreams.

Just... nothing. Completely meaningless, all of it.

(Somewhat later) I take that back. Actively awful.

I've been thinking; trying to convince myself that this current defensive attitude to writing really is not working. After the 'con, there have been so many issues where it's been clear that if I write honestly, I get slapped. Misunderstood, misrepresented, shunned. Blog culture has clearly changed, become more like public, face-to-face conversation, and - as I've said more than once - this is not, never has been, that. Many of these things are something I'd never say to the person(s) involved, because it simply would not be useful or relevant - they're just feelings, reactions, and reactions are separate from actions, which are a matter of choice.

Also, there is pride. Many issues of pride. But this can't go on, and I know it: writing like this is non-writing, most of the time. It's useless, and regarding the purpose of this diary, it's practically dishonest. If I don't write about what really happens in my mind, this thing has no value at all.

But how do I dare, after all that? And how do I drop the defenses and the walls of pride? How do I stick to what I believe is right, and fair, and my due, if I admit what a horrible person I am inside? For we all are: most just hide it, and more smoothly than I ever could.

I must go back to the core. Or stop.

If it ever becomes an issue. A more comprehensive stopping seems to be back on the menu, and seems mighty tasty compared to the rest, which is sawdust and ashes.

25 Aug 04: Backlash... But For What?

Managed to get myself to therapy by borrowing the car. Now suddenly completely overcome by exhaustion and meaninglessness, hate for self and the world. No idea where that came from, but it doesn't feel particularly nice.

(Night) Anni stopped by, but we could not make much out of the meagre moments we had for catching up, except to argue (I didn't even realise she'd taken extra time to see me, as little as she's done so in the past couple of years - it might have made me feel less defensive from the start - but, well). The situation was saved by a gig of Frigg, the most high-profile of my brother's bands, at the "Art goes Kapakka" festival - I had found out about it yesterday, and having never heard them, made a firm decision to go; Anni was supposed to act as driver to her father, and luckily the original timetable stretched so that she could listen to the whole set. Tomi, who was in town, was going to drop by, and I managed to arrange him to come to the gig, too (though not before he'd already begun to follow the original timetable, which resulted in some regrettable waiting for him).

There's no word to describe how awesome the band was. Just... absolutely, totally awesome. Also, heard another composition of Petri's (the only one tonight that was his) that I immediately knew was going to be a choreography. It seems that he's able to put into music something emotional that resonates deep in our shared genes - the faerie ball waltz (whatever its real name turned out to be; we couldn't come up with one), and now this, an incredibly complicated and evocative ballad called "Keidas".

P&P are up with Hyperborea (Scandinavian folk and other stuff) & Plektronite (modern mandolin folk) on Friday, same place, same time (Juttutupa, 10pm). I'm going, and if you're reading this, consider coming, too.

I'd promised Tomi a place to sleep. On the tram stop, a lady came to say hi - she was a larper, and we got to the subject of a game in the near future that we're both going to. I'm worried about my character there, as its actual, functional gaming seems likely to consist of the sort of things that are the most difficult and most unpleasant for me, and that gave the start to a long explanation to Tomi on my general experiences on games in the past couple of years. And... I realised they're frighteningly negative all in all. Last spring I formulated the theory that the problem was in my own attitude, but even though I've concentrated on a comprehensive change in that (for more openness in character choices, more active participation before and during, more positive starting attitude overall), the results still aren't markedly better. Mostly, I don't get the sort of characters I enjoy. The thing is, I'm also best and most gratifying as a player in those: I react best to them, I find them easy to play and easy to move the game on with. I mean, is it really so much to ask to have an ihmissuhdehahmo, a character where the dynamic consists of and is concentrated on relationships, be they family, friendship, romance, or (preferably) all of these? Tragedy, conflict, passion, love, hate, anger, guilt, despair, gratitude, revenge, support, empathy, dependency, rebellion, loyalty, sacrifice, all of the human drama?

'Cause those are what I excel at. Those are my one strength as a gamer. Everything else is... well, non-essential.

24 Aug 04: Mixed Feelings

I did something very, very unusual today: I as much as told a person I find them somewhat attractive. No, not in a general, "Are you an attractive individual? Sure" -sense, but personally. Even though I never do such a thing, so I suppose someone could encouragingly say that that's progress; one can't get anywhere if one doesn't try, I can't really feel very accomplished. It's not easy to feel so if it doesn't get results. No, of course it didn't - this is me we're talking about, remember?

The reason why I'm not more unhappy and embarrassed is because it was not a singularly important situation - the person in question was only one of a few that I find attractive, though among those the one I'm closest to as a friend right now. Still, it was embarrassing enough. I only did it to explain some cryptic communication from my part - meaning the poem I put down here the weekend before last. I came to realise that it could be read to say that I have decided to hate this person from now on, which certainly was not my intention. It was just trying to express my usual feeling of self-hate and shame when feeling attraction to someone and anticipating their reaction (knowing what sort of people they would like better, comparing myself to those, and finding the comparison... less than flattering, to say the least).

And it isn't as if I was looking for anything huge and serious and fiery anyway. Well, I am, of course, but I don't have anyone I have huge and serious and fiery feelings for at present (except for A Certain Someone, and we all know by now the usefulness of those). I am just tired of being without the closeness of another human being - someone even reasonably sweet and nice; not too familiar so there's a spark of excitement; not too strange so there can be understanding, or at least a level of communication and honesty. And I don't know how to go and reach for it. I'm not really much of a flirt, and I know even less of how to flirt with a deliberate goal in mind. And yet that is exactly how one would go about to find what I most long for right now: not with grand declarations (those would be excessive anyway), not with straight talk, which takes away all the thrill and frisson. With flirting.

But I just don't do it. This is me, all of it, always: serious and edgy and babbling too much, honest to stupidity and terrified of people but desperate to please. I don't know how to be anything else.

Another reason for why I'm not brooding more on the above (yes, well, what I wrote is somewhat broody, but I'm not feeling particularly desperate or anything) is that right after my meeting with the abovementioned person I ran into another dear, male friend, and he had time for a cider and some catching up (hadn't seen each other properly since the 'con). Was good. Nice. Made me feel a bit more balanced about the more mature set of acquantainces around me - they don't all find me totally useless. Which is a great relief, really.

Also got a birthday present for another friend (that's actually why I had to run to town today). Good.

On the other hand, tired and paranoid about another matter having to do with the uselessness.

(Later) ...Do the above excuses sound as pathetic as I think they do, looking at them now? Every situation is its own pain, every relationship between two people its own case - raw and open and real. And unique. It's belittling to shrug and say, "Oh, just another one of those things", no matter how much easier - and safer - it seems.

And I feel a continuous need to put this one into poetry, but can't find any words for anything, far less something as nuanced and complex and conflicted as human relationships.

It's officially autumn now: coming home, it was cold enough that gloves would have been nice. And someone was walking ahead of me so that they covered my vision of the Elsewhere gate, and it irked me enormously.

I'm still coughing.

23 Aug 04: Thought Processes

Have been going through the recovery process that still seems obligatory after any prolonged, stressful activity: two useless days spent mostly sleeping, two nights spent mostly idling, frustrated, searching for meaning, contact, words, finding none. As a result, I'm late with my sewing projects and also did not wake up in time to meet Liisa for the first time since spring. It might also be that I was not too eager to meet her, either - after a break I have this deep-seated reluctance to rehash everything that went wrong and resulted in me not ever getting anywhere better, as usual. Though of course that is exactly what I should do: rehash with her, to get somewhere.

Well, it was not a conscious decision, anyway, and I will correct it. Wednesday, if I remember correctly. Will check tomorrow.

Been thinking a lot, though. Mostly about the past game, and larping in general, and the psychological process after a game that was effective and made an impression. It would seem that typically my process goes something like this: immediately after the ending, violently strong emotional reactions based on either the climactic points of the game (good or bad, no matter, no discrimination, distancing or discretion) or (if the game was bland and therefore frustrating) a sharp feeling of inadequacy over my own performance. Then, almost immediately following (as is fitting and necessary), the need to explain those reactions to the persons that either were involved or happened to be on the receiving end otherwise; and (if all goes well and they are willing to listen) while doing that, analysing those firsthand reactions and getting to a basic understanding of and peace with them. Then and only then, general goodwill and varied enthusing with everybody else. Immediately following that, starting to go through the whole game piece by piece, event by event, action by action. This generally starts on the way home or the next day, if the night is spent on the site (most often such a night is spent angsting over the feeling of being an outsider to the social intricacies that others are enjoying), and may go on for an indefinite time. Sometimes it's over that night, sometimes it lasts for days. Too often it just peters out without any actual result; sometimes it results in meaningful discussions with other people during the following days, and even more rarely (a shame though that is) in thoughtful, detailed reports.

This time, after this one, I will not let it just disappear. I will write a report, no matter what form it needs to take (I have already begun). I also spent more than an hour on the phone with Ari over the events and how they affected our characters' relationship, and that talk is far from finished. Neither is my own analysis of the character and the events. We'll see.

I've been thinking of other things as well, mostly having to do with relations to several people... combined, it's a big lump of matters, but separately, just small things that will probably turn out quite okay as long as I won't let them mutate into this huge pile of "No-one likes me" whines and just gather up my guts and contact them. (Well, no, not all of it will turn out okay; not with everyone, unfortunately, and that... well.) No need to go into that more. Probably.

Also, that I need to get off my lazy ass and write. Properly. And in both languages.

I've been watching "Angel" after Irrette kindly loaned me the first two seasons. Okay, it is more interesting as a continuous whole, but still... well, there's a lot that leaves me totally indifferent, and a lot of horror elements that I find actively unpleasant. However, I can't say I don't find it worth watching: as could be expected, a lot of the psychological themes are right up my alley. I also enjoy the occasional instances of extremely dry humour in Angel's relations to the everyday world and people around him. I'm not sure how I'm going to like the later seasons, with their varied romances, but that's another matter, then.

I hope to begin ballet classes at the end of this week or the beginning of the next.

I need a job.

21 Aug 04: Big-ish Events

Went to Lahti to lecture on LARP on Friday, for a group of primary school teachers. It was something of an adventure, as I drove, and had not ensured that there was enough gas for the trip there and back - I made it there by prayer alone, and then in the afternoon had to arrange some money to my account to fill up for the way back (all the travel expenses are naturally paid long afterwards). Luckily, it all worked out, but I was pretty stressed, busy and sleep-deprived once I finally got home and had to be ready for "Viimeinen ranta". The lecture day itself went okay, I think. Not as good for the last hour as could be hoped - and also I found out that I could have gone for both Friday and Saturday (instead of one of them), so we would have had time to run a game on Sat. For that, it would have been sensible to cancel other commitments and have the money. But this is how it went now, and that's quite fine.

Besides, I very much do not regret going to "Viimeinen ranta". It was a very, very difficult and rough game experience for me, but now that I look at it - after the first, worst reactions - it was very much not insignificant. I can't yet analyse much of what went on and how it was meaningful, but it was. Very, very intense. Not all of my reaction was positive (I had - carefully and extensively - prepared for a hard game, but then unexpected and important things went askew in ways that hit badly at my insecurities), but even so, it was worth it. More later, now I'm all too tired. Slept two hours Thursday night and five Friday night. It's an absolute blessing that I could get a ride home tonight already.

It's a proper August night: mild and full of stars. Too bad I'm altogether too worn to enjoy it.

17 Aug 04: Damned Cough

This cough is not going away - on the contrary, it's been worse these past couple of days and taken all my strength. I've just slept, mostly, to get rid of it by Friday (when I have to be giving that lecture, and going to "Viimeinen ranta"). And eaten, which always happens when I'm ill and can't get out, and that's shitty. Really shitty.

Also, I found a special program for Uni drop-outs. Unfortunately, the applications were taken in through the labour office, by Aug 6. So that's it for my fine attempt to get back on track.

15 Aug 04: Thinking Is Hazardous To Your Health

No words, even now. Thinking is still the way not to be taken.

Still coughing too much to go to movies with P&P. Went to see Mom instead; watched Billy Elliot with her and came home with a few items of skincare and clothing, as usual. Unable to accomplish much else, either.

14 Aug 04: Metamorphoses

In the vastness of this desert
of papery sand and cold stars and distance
(from anywhere, from everywhere)

dry whispers twist and turn
every thing into its dark twin of pain:

the thought that I dared to let stay
for a moment, no more, the moment it came:
how good and fitting and calm your
embrace

becomes a thing of inky fear
(blackness where sounds slither, cruelly,
hotly, laughing in bitter self-disgust)
and metamorphoses into hatred

No fair, no fair at all
but there is no concept of fairness
in the desert of the Shadow
it is lost in the limitless abyss of fear
where the soul dies
and

dies

again

(No, surprisingly enough, this is not about A Certain Someone. Except of course in the sense in which he, and what he (along with a couple of others) has done to my self-confidence, is in everything concerning my relations to other people.)

(And someone at the back booth keeps telling me I deserve all this - every bitter moment of loneliness and worthlessness I have felt and might feel during these years of being alone - because I'm too proud to appreciate others in the same situation and sympathize with them; because I'm too picky and demanding and think myself above my own level... And someone else, with wings and a sword, is turning somewhere deep in my mind like a storm and screaming at that cynical bastard for all it's worth, but I can't hear. I can sort of see the angel there - I know there are other ways to exist, saner, safer - but all I can hear is the abuse, and the cynicism is too icy and the poor angel too weak to cut it down with the flaming sword. I don't deserve. Anything.)

To finish off with something lighter: I adore the third Blackmore's Night CD that Mikis loaned me, "Fires at Midnight". Especially the title song. Maybe I'm easy, but I really am spellbound - and that honour has ever been given to only a handful of songs before this.

13 Aug 04: Clumps And Knots

The need to write is overwhelming, but the inability to write about actual feelings is greater. Could write about a couple of concrete matters, but somehow that would feel like... caving in. Giving up, betraying the purpose of writing that I set myself from the very beginning. It seems to me that the time of backlash is finally here regarding these notes: people read me wrong because they expect something different, perhaps because of how blog culture has changed and therefore its general expectations alongside; people feel alienated because writing about private feelings is somehow - suddenly, again - seen as wrong.

But I write because I want to help understand, and for that, I cannot censor. I already do that far too much. I also want to record my illness as thoroughly as possible, and to try and do that without describing my feelings - of self-hate, of pain, of estrangement, of abandonment, even these - would be like talking about riding without talking about horses. It would make no sense at all. So if I want to go on writing at all, I must continue like this and risk misunderstanding when people take these words for the objective truth of how I face others in real life (they are not meant so).

Still - writing properly about these days and these feelings is... so far, not possible. Or not happening. It just isn't.

Anni moved to Kokkola today, and that's another huge clump of mixed feelings all in a twist. So much that is unclear and probably always will be. And because of that, more sadness than I know how to deal with.

11 Aug 04: ...

Not well. Don't want to write. Don't want to think, don't dare to feel. Don't want.

Walking, still, from day to day. Seeing people, speaking, making plans. Functioning. No worry about that.

But thinking - no. Can't. Hurts too much. Perhaps some later time, later day. When it's all long past. If.

08 Aug 04: Ill, Miserable, Self-abusing

Waking up with a bad cough is one of the most unpleasant experiences ever. Your throat hurts, and you just desperately want not to move, so as not to cough, because that would hurt even more... and you know it'll happen as soon as you move.

I should go and see Suvi (and get some stuff I forgot there the last time I visited), but I'm really too ill to go there by public transport... Arranged to see about it again tomorrow.

More tea, I suppose, and see if there's something passively entertaining on TV. Being ill during a heatwave is a bother.

Also, during sleep and the theatre of dreams, my mind seems to have snuck secretly to the back booth, watched yesterday's roll a couple of times and cut it to point out how badly I played. I should have held my mouth at obnoxious strangers and behaved more like a scared, downtrodden slave, a true little martyr... so the obnoxious strangers might have liked me better. Or maybe not; maybe it would not have mattered what I did, anyway, not with them. And with others, the issues were different. My character was very self-involved and bitter, not yet completely humbled from being a free girl, and desperate to get to a better position by any means, so when strange kings and their retinues came calling, of course she was excited and really keen to make a good impression to them, and therefore less interested in acting small and humble to meaningless strangers at home (particularly when her mistress and master were not present)... OK, that makes sense. I'll stop worrying over that. They would not have liked me anyway, not the way they were playing. But still, maybe I should have worked myself over with constant thought of "small and humble" anyway, simply to appear younger. Other things might have been different then. Maybe.

Another proof that it's probably not a good idea to play when ill: can't think well enough; neither do instincts work.

Nine years, and still learning such basics. Oh dear.

(Night) Hey... who's borrowed my Spirited Away? I have no recollection at all. Will the guilty party please stand up?

Watched a very nice, very light lesbian drama-comedy called Better than Chocolate. Before that, listened to Don Giovanni on Yle Teema and had a long phone chat with Ari, who has been taking care of Indian military musicians for a week or so, socialized with lots of VIPS including the Indian ambassador, and in general made a great international impression of himself (well, who expected anything less?). He's such a dear, and I'm lucky to have friends like him in times like this. Though, talking to him after he'd had quite a few ciders under his belt made me long for the option of drinking oneself numb (which of course is quite out of the question for me, as before and after the numbness there's far too much of the opposite sort of feeling). Oh well, can't have it all. Or, it seems, even some. Of anything.

07 Aug 04: Learning Experience, Another

Didn't get the Q's costumes finished properly; couldn't match timetables even for the stuff I had managed to finish. Very, very ashamed and disappointed at self. Should learn to anticipate by now - heroic all-nighters may work sometimes, but not when one is in the worst throes of summer flu.

Went to the game, was very ill but so was almost everyone else, worked hard and drank illegal amounts of cold medicines, came home. Not much to add to that. Was not (as predicted) feeling good about too many people present, but had no energy for or interest in either spectacles or attempts at personal talks; so had none and talked rather little all in all. In retrospect, probably should have stayed home simply because of the cough, but I didn't realize it was as debilitating as it turned out to be until at the site, and then just had to go on (adding the worry that people would think I'd only come there to play the diva and beg for pity with my coughing act). Hopefully was of some small use, when not coughing or sleeping the cough off (I played a slave, so should have been up early, but I was so miserably ill waking up that I was let to sleep long past the morning gruel). The game around me was okay, and it was interesting to follow some of the relationship interplay at the higher-ups' end, as I had played a (now dead) character in that group before. As I had feared, I could not really realise my present character's potential, but as I said, hopefully I was useful at least.

Free Sunday will be spent taking care of oneself, for now.

Note to self: in the future, pay special attention to thanking those who played servants after the game! It's not the work (which mostly is not awfully hard and gives one some purpose), it's the attitude from other players that makes playing a servant rough. In a class-society milieu, and if they play properly, of course they're going to seem demanding, thankless and obnoxious when one is just doing one's best to service them, and we simply are no longer built to not feel lousy about such. And it's not nice to be left feeling lousy after a game, particularly if one was a player and not a non-player helper.

04 Aug 04: An Important Reminder, And An Equally Important Insight

I would like to ensure that those who read this remember something very important about this web chronicle. This is first and foremost a diary, not a blog - meaning that this is by and large a record of what goes on in my head, even down to the painful depths, not a part of a conversation circle (whichever, wherever). And most importantly, not any sort of an official statement, except when I clearly say so. Perhaps I should do the latter even less, to keep the division clear - it tends to blur when I feel the need for explanations. I'm sure the line blurred yesterday, for example, but there was a practical reason for that: I could not answer the people whose emails upset me so, because they specifically said they would take my answers to the mailing list where this exploded and where I certainly don't want to have any more of this, both for others' peace and mine.

I got the summer flu, finally. Blech. It feels pretty severe right now - like it would be wiser to cancel Friday's game now, but I simply can't do it, or it would be taken as a sign of cowardice, as per yesterday's entry. I simply can't not go. I've just got to keep pouring tea and Finrexin down my throat among sewing and hope it gets better.

I have to go on a bit more about this 'con mess, because this is important. An email exchange today made me finally realize where the conversation started to go wrong, and why it became so deathly important to me to assure that others admit to blame as well. I took a line that said "we'll just have to see that one person doesn't have too many things to do" to mean: "We'll have to see that you are not included in making the 'con even as much as this year; (and to detail:) the problems you saw were because of you, so we'll just drop you." So I panicked, and needed to prove that others were not perfect either; that I was no worse and no less worthy than others; that I would not need to be excluded. It has been pointed to me that people did admit to things having to be made better in several small points... it seems I just didn't register those anymore after this.

I apologized to one person already. I will not back down on anything I said in this diary - these things were, and are, there - but I should not have reacted to that one line the way I did. I don't really think it would make sense to apologize to the list, because it would just mean dragging the thing back, and because I stand behind my points... I don't know.

03 Aug 04: Demands, Responsibilities

So, I was overly optimistic about the money arriving in one business day - therefore, no Tohmajärvi today, and conclusively, none this week (as I have to be going to Druid 2,5 on Friday afternoon already). Which means no relaxation away from this all; no crying on Dad's shoulder on the unfairness of the world and the people in it; opportunity and therefore obligation to do all those things about the house (the wasps, the ants, the garage fence...) and about people (meet or invite several; for the latter cleaning up the wasp's nest would be pretty much required). Maybe I'll just make a total excuse of the sewing (which I would have to do anyway).

Received the elkskin I bought from huuto.net. It's much smaller than I'd hoped - pretty much the exact size of Vasa, the SuoLi-owned, thick yearling skin (except with a complete head), when I was hoping for something like Kaaleppi, Anni's huge male. Oh well, at least it's been tanned very nice and soft, so it should hold its hair well, and so in the end I suppose it's worth the price.

Was asked to go and lecture about larping to an enthusiastic group of primary school teachers; it fit okay in my schedules, and they pay quite reasonably, so of course I agreed to go. Some good, at least...

(Night)

I am also accused of having a vendetta because I was not chosen for larp division responsibility, and that is simply a deliberate attempt to hit under the belt. That fact had nothing to do with anything else than to explain that momentary feeling of bitterness I had after being exhausted from work and comparing it to being on the connittee. Again I repeat: feeling. The problems were, are, there, independent of my position or anyone's. All I wanted was that people act like adults, record them and promise to see to them. No, seriously. I am actually quite baffled at the absolute defensiveness of the people concerned.

And, of course, embarrassed and panicky that all this even came up and became such a huge screwup. Someone even implied that I might not have the guts to show my face in a larp next weekend... which was more than hitting under the belt, it was downright nasty. I am terrified of people in any case; how do people think I feel when several of them are mad at me? Would it be a wonder if I didn't want to go to places where I have to spend time with such people? But I can't in all honesty just back down and say none of it meant anything - that would be lying. It was not meant as this huge deal, but it was not non-existent.

I don't know anymore. Anything. All I know is I am not going to given up and not go to the game, no matter how broken I am. And that it's not going to be fun - it seems on the way to being downright miserable, especially since for some reason I was chosen for a character that is very difficult for me (I don't know why: maybe that was the only choice left, which is fair enough, or maybe there's another reason I don't see... of course I'll do my best, no matter how I feel, and we'll see, but it is difficult not to fear a hard weekend).

02 Aug 04: ...Ever Wider

Was supposed to be on the train to Kitee at half past twelve. Woke up around one, so was not on the train. Too little strength left to pack even for the evening train, though trying to come up with some after talking to Dad. It's difficult, though, when crawling around with these mountains on one's back. Feeling so squashed it's actually hard to breathe.

Dad gave me the same, sensible advice I tried once already: go somewhere else, do something else, relax. It didn't help with Ahvenanmaa, so I don't really think it'll much help with Tohmajärvi either. But I'll try to be able to try.

(Night) As expected, managed to miss the train: packed too late and too slowly because even packing was too difficult a job right now. At least got to have Auri over for some more Firefly; I'd planned to unburden myself onto her sympathetic shoulder, but even that was too much; just sat mutely and watched, and it was enough. Tried to call several people over various things, but ended up not managing the followthrough for most of those calls. Browsed lazily, communicated on some Werewolf stuff until even that got too complicated and decided to postpone any reaction.

Lin and Anni are packing like maniacs. It's hot and sweaty inside. A young magpie decided to settle on our porch windowshelf and (after some grappling with the concept of windows) go to sleep; hopefully its parents can still find it. There's a wasp nest somewhere among the Chtulhu-gened One that we should do something about, or the patio won't be usable any more (with luck and hope, there might be some less rainy days in August for sitting there). We should also discourage the ants about the sauna again.

I don't want to travel several hundred kilometres and pay madly for it just for two days and an extra for a family party. But if I go next week, I won't be here to start kicking at the University doors... or try and take one of the substituting jobs I found available. Why doesn't anything ever work?

Should finally try and get some pictures done of the old larp stuff I've got for sale. Should also see if I've got any stuff I want to sell at huuto.net - almost certainly, but I have no clear idea of what or where or in which condition.

01 Aug 04: The Chasm Beckons

Need more synonyms for "tired".

Went to Ahvenanmaa. It was pretty and expensive. The viking fair was okay as such, but the trip, to me personally, was tiresome and unsatisfying. Came home into spectacularly ugly words and somewhat absolute rejection, a sudden longing to meet one's knife more closely, and continuation of arguments I never wanted in the first place. Now the black hole yawns once more, and the one hope of escaping it is, again, sleep.