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You can still contact me at svaha@iki.fi |
26 Feb 05: Another Spiralcrash I'm... not well, really. Not keen on writing, either. Actually, particularly non-keen on writing. I'm very unhappy with how Dare's jacket turned out. Of course, the problem was that the measurements I had were taken during his forced rest after the accident where he hurt his foor, and were now too small by some ten centimetres, and I did what I could - but had I had another day, or even just four or five hours more, I could have made it perfect despite that. Even now I know what I could have done with just one more hour to get rid of those wrinkles that turned up at the top of the back piece, but by the time I was finishing it, it was two am Friday morning in Turku, and Ari, the dear soul, who had come to keep me company on the road, had needed to be home for a couple of hours already (besides, I was so tired by then that I couldn't think straight anyway). Okay, Dare could wear it, and the shirt turned out really well, but even so, it bothers me. And then Merten had that meme, the one where you think back on your life ten years ago, five years ago and so on. And if I had to do that one (at first, it seemed I wanted to), it would look... well. I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to talk about anything. It... no. No. I'm just a big whiny loser. It's not that I've had bad days as such. Not at all. Dare was very understanding and appreciative of my efforts, Ari never got mad at me with the delays in Turku (and he had a lot of reason to!)... On Friday, Suvi invited me over to a blini evening at Rami's place, and it was really nice, and the food was heavenly... Vinja left to go to her Dad's (it was actually Vivien that the cattery owner wanted for breeding, so they had to switch in the last minute), and even though that was of course sad, it has been good for Vivi to get out from under Vinja's shadow, as I thought it might be. And it seems she's going to this really nice family with two daughters, a golden retriever, and a birman cat already. Vinja, I'm sure, will waste no time in making clear to her sire who's boss. And I'm really looking forward to people coming over to watch the Oscars tomorrow night (I couldn't probably make it anywhere out of the house myself, except to walk the dog, and even that only barely... and I'm glad it's only a few people, even so). I'm just... tired. Ill. Physically unwell, just for having to think of my life in the past ten years and describing it. That kind of stuff should show progress, and mine only slows a slide downwards. Sure, I'm a wiser person than I was then, but that doesn't help when I can't do anything. Whe I am nothing. So tired... 23 Feb 05: Absorbed I have been reading Mary Gentle's masterful Ash so fervently that even doing the last stitches of Dare's Pelageya costume has been delayed (though I'm only delivering it tomorrow anyway; no, I didn't manage to arrange a Turku trip). I knew it was said to be great, but people's descriptions of it didn't really whet my appetite. I thought it was just another pseudo-medieval novel where the best things were good writing and grittily realistic battle descriptions. I was completely wrong. It's so much more. Of course, I am delighted to have been surprised so positively, but even more so reminded that one should not expect the categorisation of great books to be that simplistic anyway... Enthusiastically recommended for any lovers of books, not only fantasy or science fiction fans. Oh, and don't let the size (impressive as it is) intimidate you: it's a total page-turner. The only problem is desperate anticipation of the next section, and the next, and the end... Kalle's going on a trip to Praha, so I'll be left with the animals, and the heartbreak of Vivien leaving to her new home this weekend (she's going to the owner or her sire, Bessemjanka's Chinook). I hear they have not yet finalised Vinja's arrangements, so she'll be staying for a little while yet. I'd think anyone would be eager to house such a lovely, inquisitive, people-friendly little tomboy, but of course the obligation for breeding is a bit of a bother for some people. I'm sure she'll do great, anyway. And actually, I think Vivien will be more social once she goes elsewhere, too, because Vinja's so dominating and has been ever since birth (not that Vivi's _a_social as such, just a little more careful and solitary). We're having a girls' Oscars night Sun-Mon, concentrating on the costumes especially, and generally just enjoying the fluff of the glamour now that there's no Lord of the Rings movie to cheer (though I secretly wish an awful lot that Before Sunset could win for Adapted Screenplay, but it probably won't). If you want to join us (and can make it overnight), do drop me a note. Okay, those last stitches... 19 Feb 05: Fighting the Tide Yes, I was rather hangover-ish on Friday morning. Still worth it this time, I think. I've tried to teach myself not to let these sliding dreamtimes weigh me down, remembering the wisdom about moving being easier if there is some momentum already. I invited Lissu over for sauna last night and did - after sleeping for far too long - did, in the end, make it to celebrate Virpi and Johannes' recent wedding. (I admit that I kind of wanted to go on sleeping for lack of any present, but then I remembered that among all my fabrics there was a nice big piece of linen I'd coloured a lovely dark-blueberry blue, but I've pretty much gone off blue myself; at least it's useful.) It was nice to meet many Greywolves, which I haven't managed for some time. After that I dropped by Salla's place to see her, Ari and Mikis, so I've been quite social. Good. I'm hoping to get a ride to Turku tomorrow evening to finish Dare's costume. Mili remarked that I don't write as much as I used to in the beginning. I know, and it bugs me, too. Now that I'm not quite as self-absorbed as I was then, I still haven't learned to write about anything besides myself (for, after all, myself is the only subject in which I can claim any expert knowledge). Perhaps I won't? Perhaps I'm not a writerly sort of person after all, as I so loved to believe, deep in my heart? Perhaps I just had these things to say, and now that they are said, the cup is empty? The answer? Start writing prose. Dammit. 17 Feb 05: The Pain & The Exaltation Känniblogista, päivää (c)Merten. Vera made me drink, and now I'm comfortably drunk, like no time in ages. Good: 1) 24 hours of migraine are past, and I'm okay now! 2) Despite drunkenness, did not try to hit on lovely Spanish boy on train, which was appropriate, considering said Spanish boy was hitting on teenager blonde opposite me. 3) Got therapy funding for this year!! Even twice a week, despite psychiatrist's lukewarm approach! 4) This floaty feeling is actually quite nice for a change. Bad: 1) No-one to spend drunkenness on. 2) Migraine spoiled the day, including Dare's possible fitting. 3) Door to Narnia open, and no-one to spend drunkenness on. 4) I think I know something about some people I'd rather not know about. If I'm right, remember I told you so when I confirm I know. 15 Feb 05: It's About People Gosford Park. Wow, what a movie - an absolute feast of acting! I haven't been this impressed by a story in any form for a long time. See, it's always the people that matter to me in a story; it's the people that I find interesting and get into. And that means there is another side to my preferences of light and darkness: when it's about people, I want the whole package of what goes on in their minds and between them. The whole gamut of human emotions. That I can understand, and therefore, deal with. It's my own territory. The things I prefer to avoid have more to do with a) mindless butchering, which I really don't have any stomach for and b) the suffering of innocents, such as animals. But when it's about people, I really don't need - or want - coddling. I'm stating all this because some people seem to have difficulty in differentiating between these things and think that if I don't want horror, I can't deal with human harshness either, and it limits my game options needlessly. I nearly didn't make it to therapy today, but in the end got myself moving and got to borrow the car. So, didn't give in, this time. Perhaps not next time either. 14 Feb 05: Impatient, Apologetic Slept until afternoon. Had sweet dreams about Kaarina the little vampire, but could not translate reminder into debriefing action. Also dreamed of deciding to switch major to Literature and write thesis about the fictional subject that I came up with for my original Inner Circle character Helena. Wouldn't do, I'm afraid, but it was not a bad thought. Finally managed to update costume sales with pictures. Had another one of those talkative evenings and made lots of plans. We'll see if any of them materialise. ...Okay, here it is. I'll confess to something that I already tried to explain to Kalle - not that it is that much of a surprise to many, I'm sure. I've been thinking about this a lot after reading a couple of thoughts from Moira (whom I love dearly, whether we disagree or not). Also, after Janka commented on my thoughts on the unfairness of the world. See... ...I want my fairytales without dark twists. I want my entertainment without horror and blood and body parts, which belong inside people. I want my fantasy visions conventionally beautiful. I want gold and marble and crystal and roses and trees and sunlight; I want silk and velvet and music. I want fairies to be ethereal and beautiful, not odd and twisted and brown. I want deer mothers to live and mongoose cubs to survive (I know they don't, but in my fantasies I want them to). I want no-one to hurt, no matter how used to hurting they are. Because hurt is bad, and the one who hurts is another Me. People are not mongoose cubs and should be allowed to survive. I want my white without black that makes it grey. ...And knowing all this, it is really hard not to feel inferior in the face of the New Weird of the cutting-edge fantasy, and all those brilliant (and no, this is not sarcasm) people I know that prefer their aesthetics less... conventional. A bit like the thing about religion: no matter how well I explain it, it's always too white for some. All this does not mean that I don't want to know of the existence of bad and sad things - they are there anyway. But I don't have to like it, or to accept them. I will never stop being sad about the unfairness. I can't. And so I prefer other things when I can choose. (Which, furthermore, still doesn't mean I don't like good literature, or that I won't read it, twists and all, if I can't have it without. I do admire Gaiman, VanderMeer and co.; who wouldn't? Nor do I believe in protecting children from the facts of the world excessively. It's just that - I got nightmares from ghost stories as a child, and went very near psychosis after seeing a horror film a few years ago, and I'm sure there are others like me in the world. Are we worse, less intellectual people for that? Spent yesterday evening at Meira's, watching beautiful historical films and petting their friendlier cat (who really was very friendly and cuddly and looked very much like Tuikku). Girl with a Pearl Earring and Mansfield Park were both very beautiful visually, and the sort of films I'm glad I've seen. I also borrowed Gosford Park, which I've missed before. I've had a lot of food cravings, and stumbled badly last night in my project to eat more healthily. Is my fear of looking at myself in the mirror in dance class still this deep? (Valentine's? Blah. Many friends of mine would have deserved to be remembered in ways I cannot afford, and it's sort of my turn. But, well, no can do, yet. As for myself, I guess dreams about a character's situation are the most I can expect for romance.) (Later) Uhh... it just occurred to me that someone might think I'm trying to advocate some kind of censorship above. I'm not. Just to make it clear. Censorship is evil. 12 Feb 05: Just Keep Moving... Getting ready to face the world and out of the door, that is the problem. Once out, you can just sort of drift along and not stop. Yesterday, I was too slow about the getting-ready part - twice. Today, I was late, but not irreparably. So I managed to meet Antti, Lin, Irre and all her cats, Ari and Mikis. Even had time to go to sauna with Irre and converted Ari into the faith of Firefly (Mikis being there already). Kittens have been much of a theme: talking about Lin's, getting acquainted with Irre's Siamese youngsters and playing with our girls here between Firefly episodes. Vinja, as usual, was completely fearless, and even Vivien was taken with Mikis almost at once. Now, tired and headachy, no explanation. Should write more. Should write a load of those damned debriefs. 11 Feb 05: Suddenly Weak For some reason I folded again yesterday: overslept, then had my stomach starting to misbehave. So I had to sleep most of the day, didn't have any more strength in the evening either, and again slept for too long and went on wandering around the house in a confused, tired state. So, no ballet happened yet, which is a pity, but there you go. At least I hope to make it to movies with Mili later tonight. Still, right now I am irritable and feel po'd about things that
in a normal state I could just pass these days: 09 Feb 05: Dreaming Continued Last night, I dreamed I was in a great LOTR LARP where I got to be Frodo. Actually it was less a public LARP and more a fan-acted re-imagination of the Fellowship's journey that went on for several days, but it was very well done - everyone was great for their parts and had fantastic costumes, and it all turned out really intense and emotional. As a result, I'm feeling returning twinges of the intense fannishness of the Christmas before last. (A while later) ...And all it took for me to go completely off the board was two fanfiction stories that weren't even new and that reminded me of what I always hated with such fierce, fierce despair at the end of LOTR, and why. It wasn't fair. It wasn't, and isn't, fair, how for some there is sunlight and roses and life and love (no, not all the time, but sometimes; but enough), and for some, none. That there is so little love and warmth in the world, so little, so very little. None for Frodo. And - no, I don't know why and how to change it or even what I mean - for me. So much cold and dark and dust and deserted spaces, and so little love. And yes, of course the answer - for real, for me - is simply to love in as many forms as one can - to work, to smile - and then let it come back in whatever forms it will, if it will. But sometimes... sometimes, surely, one can cry for how little and far it shines? For Frodo, for a dear friend I just remembered fondly, for me? (And a note from the back booth says: perhaps, if I dared to let these tears come more often - if I dared to admit this sorrow - I might not be so hard about people who have hurt my pride. I might dare to be more human, and learn again to forgive. Perhaps.) (Another note says that I am probably insulting all the lovely friends I have who do care about me - and that is not at all what I mean. It's more about my inability to feel, to experience the caring.) 08 Feb 05: Like A Proper Human Being Visited Mom&O yesterday, despite best intentions ended up staying overnight. As usual when staying at Kerava, didn't sleep (I never can fall asleep there, so I've stopped trying). Luckily, in the morning my costume sale photos were waiting (thanks to Kalle, once more), and I managed to fight the lure of my own sweet bed by editing them until it was time to leave for therapy. I must be running a record - four un-skipped sessions in succession, and no plans to skip the next one either. We talked about money and jobs, my dreams and how they stayed to haunt me after all, and about what I still believe to be the only real solution to my existential crisis (no, not suicide - but I'm not going to go into this now, as I'm not ready to admit it in public, even though it keeps bugging me month after month). In the afternoon, I went shopping and found some ridiculously cheap recycled fur to add to my plans for a proper cape lining, and after much searching, a very nice all-silk gabardine for Dare's Pelageya jacket. It was in a reasonable price range, too. Eurokangas had by far the best selection of mid-price silks for anything resembling this purpose (and of the two runners-up, Stockmann beat Villisilkki by a mile, believe it or not). Satisfied with my purchases, I went to have a lovely, long-awaited coffee chat with Seanna, ending up with another book from her exquisite collection of fantasy (as if I didn't already have big enough a pile un-returned!). Tomorrow, either Phantom of the Opera on film, or ballet class. If I'm feeling strong enough. And courageous enough... Time to catch up on that unslept night. 07 Feb 05: In Dreams Had a lovely time Saturday night in the pulkkamäki and then sauna and then hot chocolate with Bailey's and laskiaispullat, and trying out the dance mat game. I sucked at the latter, but it was only my second try ever (the first was at the arcade in Linnanmäki the summer before last). I had a hard time visualising the step arrows properly - first my eyes wanted to see them spaced as they are on the mat instead of the spacing indicating step order, then my feet wanted to find left- right indications in them. I'm not yet sure if it was fun as much as addictive - I definitely want more practice. Yesterday sort of disappeared somewhere among dreams and books and some TV - I guess I'm still more tired than I think. Today, I woke up from long and detailed dramas again. In the first, I somehow mixed myself in mid-show into this musical that was something between Cats and Grease and some sort of fantasy world, though mostly Cats. There was a really, really beautiful impromptu love story between me and one of the male leads, and I got a solo dance, with Anni stepping in to sing in accompaniment. Afterwards, I had one of those strange moments that are becoming more and more frequent in my dreams: Anni and I walking away from the theatre building, stopping to wonder how something that miraculous happened and if it maybe was a dream after all - but later, when I awoke for real, I doubted I actually was conscious of dreaming, just dreaming that I was. The second long sequence also had a lately-familiar theme: my family getting to live (either by inheriting or by renting ridiculously cheap) in a castlelike manor house. There are two basic variations of the manor; this was the less castlelike, more modern one. However, it also had an original addition: it was built on the site of a secret mini-concentration camp. It had a huge basement area deep underground that used to be a gas chamber / shower, but now was a storage space for the leftovers of a department store that used to occupy the spot in the time between. Now, writing it up, it feels absolutely horrifying to me, though in the dream it was unpleasant but bearable (for some reason we had no option but to live there). The basement was actually haunted, though not in a dangerous manner - just horribly, horribly sad. Against this backdrop, most of the dream centered on Mamma, Dad's mom who died in ninety-one, being still alive (though bedridden) and living with us, and me having a huge argument with Mom because Dad had arranged me to go to doctor's and have sick leave because of a very mild flu. Somehow, all this seems meaningful in trying to make sense of my complex familial feelings and self-image, but I don't know where or how to start. It just feels important to write it down. Maybe these new dreams of living in a castle or manor are about daring to start dreaming of achieving things again? But not yet quite believing one could be self-sufficient, so they are about one's original family still? And the terrible basement might be about daring to face unpleasant and horrifying things that I tend to try and not see? In the dream, I had to fight very hard not to be afraid of the sad, suffering ghosts. And having a row with Mom - well, I don't really argue with her nowadays, but it's clear I do have some resentment, and it's not even about things that could be changed in reality. I feel a bit bummed that I forgot another event I could have gone to, for once - the ancient skiing race event at Pukkisaari yesterday. But, well, that's life, and things like forgetting abut things can be changed. Spam has been getting extremely bothersome lately, and I have no idea how to set up any filters in elm - I don't even know if it has a filtering feature. 05 Feb 05: Cautiously Optimistic There was no particular reason to the break in writing - or at least not a planned one. I have been processing the whole complex issue of Tommi and how I feel about it, and I suppose that has tied up a lot of my energy quite physically: I've fallen asleep in mid-evening most nights. I haven't been feeling particularly bad in any other way, though - mostly quite good, actually. Looking forward to doing things. Getting properly back into sewing, though still gathering momentum for now. Had T&Q over for sauna and tea on Tuesday; will go to theirs today. Had a very good lunch talk with Lissu before therapy on Tuesday as well (her impression was also that my "being-difficult" symptoms mostly manifested themselves after getting together with Tommi - though this is not a simple issue, of course, and needs a lot more analysis). Also doing better at not missing my therapy appointments, which is good, since I have only started to scratch at the surface of the connections between violence and self-image, and before I "get" the twists of logic that happened in my own subconscious, the problems won't be solved. Been reading loads of great sci-fi from Kalle's shelves - he splurged royally at the Academic Bookstore a week or two ago. Both the new Iain M. Banks, The Algebraist, and the new Alastair Reynolds, Century Rain, were highly engaging and entertaining space opera. Neither are part of the authors' usual universes; both are almost compulsively readable. I was not as impressed with the two novellas in Reynolds' Diamond Dogs, Turquoise Days: the macabre style in the first struck me as old-fashioned, and both were more than a bit predictable. I still have McLeod's Newton's Wake waiting, as well as some "regular" novels I borrowed from Mili. Next week, finally, the ballet. I've looked into the classes I'm going to take at first and decided on one 75-min and one 90-min Intermediate 1 - or, maybe I'll put myself up for I2 for that 90min and go to I1 for the first weeks anyway, so I can move up when I feel ready for it. We'll see if the teachers will ever let me back to Advanced, considering I won't ever be able to have a perfect turnout or very high extensions again (never had them, and let's face it, I am getting on more than a bit. The kittens have names now: Vinja and Vivien. Vinja, the firstborn, is turning out to be very affectionate in addition to being the more active; Vivien is still a bit cautious, though in no way fearful. |