31 Jan 06: Another Pyre, Endured

Now I can slowly start feeling proud, I suppose. Despite last night's most anxious attempts to old-fashioned self-sabotage, I managed to fill in most of the application; and despite sleeping much longer than planned and awakening to Paula's phone call some time before one pm, I didn't give in to despair, but squeezed out the explanatory attachment to the application and took the whole lot to the employment office in time. It's done; I've done my part; I've at least made the attempt, and the rest is out of my hands.

I still need to get all those papers for the employment benefit to be cleared, though - there was no time for anything except the application today. Even so, this was definitely a step worth celebrating. I dared to apply for something, to ask something for myself, to say I'm worth a degree and a regular job and a living. Gosh - even stating that still feels scary and makes me half expect something bad to happen now to put me in my place...

Having stepped out of the fire, I sent a progress report by text message to everyone who might half care and proceeded to town to reward myself with ballet class, of a progressively higher level (nominally the same, but I'd heard it was mostly people who'd gone for longer). Another teacher again, this one very exact about epaulement (head, shoulder and hand posture) and rather demanding about remembering combinations - but that was all to the good, as both are something I need to work on getting back, and I prefer demands to laxness (some teachers at these adult classes are a bit too allowing for my taste). I was pleasantly surprised to note that they are practicing a classical variation for a grand allegro, even though this means less time for other combinations. Even so, it was lovely to dance after such a long while, and to be complimented on getting the musical timing right (I and a couple of others did it twice extra while the rest were changing to pointe shoes). I was less pleasantly surprised at the pointe work: I think it's very nice that people get to continue it from level JI onwards, but I, personally, need hard work and long, regular combinations so much more right now. What with the variation and the pointe work, there were no adagios in the centre at all, and those are where I still suck hardest, so I really, really need them.

Oh well, I suppose I'll get my will of that particular wish once I dare the JIII+ classes (it would be nice to be prepared for that, though, and not suck so glaringly much compared to the rest there...).

After ballet, I went to celebrate with Lissu, catching up over dinner at Belge (where I ate fresh tuna for the first time in my life ever - I really should eat more fish, and it was very good). We talked three miles a minute until one, and I came away with at least one remarkable insight: one big reason for my uncertainty and worry over my friendships - my persistent feeling that I don't know how to be a friend - may possibly be traced to my parents' difficult relationship while I was a preschooler instead of anything that actually happened to me personally. After all, that was the model I got for all close(ish) human interaction, and it was one where things are desperately hoped for and pretended to be okay, but actually are always unsure and require constant argument that may end in one or both sides going away completely. So is it a wonder that I hardly ever feel, or felt, comfort in any friendship I ever formed? That I desperately want honest, open closeness and stability, but still always expect people to be about to go away, no matter what they say? That I abhor argument, even civilised disagreement unless very clearly and openly stated that it in no way affects my security? Hnh. Well, at least I now know what to work on. (And please, don't use these sore points against me in case of argument, okay? It'd be rather below the belt, don't you think?)

Even so, that I got this insight during our conversation should remind me again that I am not completely unlucky in my friends. Quite the opposite sometimes.

Sleep, well earned, and tomorrow - hopefully - some official phonecalls, a translation that means a bit of pocket money, the final new teacher at ballet, and in the evening, sewing while watching the beginning of "Galactica" Season Two! So many good things that they should be quite effective incentives for the hard ones.

I might even have the energy to tackle the two arguments with friends.

(In vanity news, either my eyes are still mad at me for Saturday's cigarette smoke (people were smoking inside at the birthday party), or they decided at about that time to hate my current mascara: they've been red and watery ever since, so the mascara runs and irritates them even more (I'm out of waterproof, and this one is quite good otherwise - or used to be). And mascara is the one beauty product that I just Can't. Do. Without. Oh well, all the more reason to get that translation and those sewing projects done...)

30 Jan 06: I Hate Processing

Employment office visit through, but need to get papers from different places. They shouldn't be insurmountable problems, but still, I really hate this stage. Worst are some sort of proof from a psychiatrist, any psychiatrist willing to testify that I've not been capable of work for three years because of depression (since I'm not a patient at the Tikkurila office, at least according to the psychiatrist there, remember? and my therapist, as noted, is not a doctor) and phoning the Teachers' Union about whether I can still take care of years of membership fees and get my employment benefit from them or from Kela - because until the employment office knows that, nothing can happen moneywise.

I hate this stage.

(Night) After seeing me through the employment office ordeal, bro drove me to town to visit Mili, whose maternity leave began today. We had coffee and tea and a lovely chat, where I was glad to receive outside support of my insights to the nature of my relationship with my ex-husband (as she, of course, knew me then). When her fiance joined us, there was much enthusing over fannish things (they also loved "Firefly" passionately, found Serenity somewhat too much of a compromise, and are now huge fans of the new "Galactica"). I left their place loaded with a couple of costume pieces that are totally useful, the widescreen VHS set of the original Star Wars trilogy and so many books I need to steal myself another shelf from the living-room bookcase.

Sometimes, I am just totally overwhelmed by how amazing friends I have and how unworthy of such I am.

Then I went to flamenco, felt even clumsier than on Friday, but I guess it was mostly because now I could at least try and do both hands and feet of the sevillanas sequence - and of course it meant I did both badly. And my arms aren't moving enough, and my wrists don't bend enough, and I have to work them so hard even my shoulders bunch up, just from the wristwork. Not to mention there's hardly a trace of proper footwork. Ugh. The teacher, however, is an absolute darling! She's going to arrange a performance with all her students in the spring - everyone who wants to be in it - with a great live band and all. And she asked me and a couple of others who only started this class after Christmas if we wanted her to give us an extra lesson on the first part of the sevillanas, to catch up! Did we ever! I'm terribly sad now that I have to miss next Friday and Monday both. I wonder if I could get a ride to Midwinter only after the class...? (I suppose first I need to get a ride, any ride...)

So we have a continuing president. I'm quite happy, class traitor and everything - well, to be honest, when I was little, the Coalition Party was still the obvious choice for my parents with their university degrees, but these days it's no longer education-friendly. Just money-friendly, and I find this current culture of greed utterly despiccable. Even so, the money for social support must come from somewhere, so Niinistö does have important points as well (and I do concede he's an extremely smart man, and of course very charismatic, if one believes the president must primarily be a strong ambassador abroad). Still, there could be no question of my choice. How could I not vote for a president who says (and honestly seems to believe) that social justice is more important than money opportunities?

I've followed the elections halfheartedly (I did vote, of course), but from what I've seen, I've been surprised and appalled at the vehemence on both sides, and at the depth of the chasm between the most ardent supporters of both. I didn't know - not really - that our society is this polarised between the haves and the have-nots/ less-haves; that there actually are hundreds, thousands, quite bright people who really don't want to participate in our social support system at all... I guess they don't believe they could ever be on the receiving end of it.

Am I the only one who seems to have noticed a subtle trend in the campaigning to discredit Halonen by showing how she's "not that warm and nice a person after all"? As if the causes she champions could only be worthy if she herself was always nice and charitable, and since she's not, she's somehow a "fake"? Now would anyone expect this of a male politician? As if anyone could survive and move up in politics without being determined, without a certain sharpness! (Also, it seems to me a very deliberate undermining of the candidate's personality "points", especially knowing how personally charismatic the other candidate was. If it was that, it was brilliant campaigning - if loathsome.)

Right. It's again past 1am, and I should still fill the gradu program application. And I'm still scared, deep inside, of whether I can see all of this through... but I'll try. On the way home from flamenco I even had a flash of insight: I actually found myself believing that it's best to do these unpleasant things as quickly as possible so I won't have to be afraid and agonized for any longer than I have to. I might even have understood this now, deep inside. If so, that would certainly be a big step forward. If.

(Even nighter) It seems that particular insight is still not in working order. I'm still sitting here an hour later, browsing through huuto.net. Because when your future, in the form of complete-your-studies program application, scares you and makes you feel powerless, trying to find great deals on second-hand carpets and cosmetics gives you at least an illusion of control over something in your life. It's a particularly insidious temptation, that one. Now that I stopped pulling wool over my own eyes, it's time to be sensible.

Fire here we come.

29 Jan 06: Good for the Soul, Bad for the Bod

Yesterday, I was suddenly invited to accompany friends to the birthday party of a long-time acquaintance (or seldom-seen friend) and ended up in a nightclub, shaking my booty to my heart's content. Supposedly, we only went there for the downstairs metal club, but as it rather sucked for a metal anything, I was persuaded to go dancing upstairs for a couple of stretches. (I resisted a lot, because I was wearing totally the wrong clothes and therefore looking even more conspicuously too fat and grandmotherly to the place, but when I got moving, all that flew out of the revolving door - thanks to Spider, who didn't give up.)

I kind of knew it was risky to go on to the club, because it meant I couldn't get the train home and would have to sleep somewhere at friends' mercy, and that would certainly mean I'd be tempted to stay home once I got there. I was determined to be sleeping at a somewhat reasonable hour and to get up like that as well, but I could have saved myself the effort by being realistic. I wasn't moving out of Sokkelo until half past twelve, had to stop for groceries, and in the train realised I simply didn't have the time for running home and back to town anymore. It's a shame because it's the only class of Nelli's at a suitable level right now, though on the other hand, she may still be on sick leave. So maybe I might manage to train home today (as I didn't on Tuesday). And at least this way I've been able to catch up with some stuff, and may catch up with some more that is getting urgent.

And anyway, dancing felt so, soo good. Again soon, I hope.

My arms are not sore from flamenco, even though I was sure they would be during the class. This probably means I didn't work as hard or as exactly as I could/should have. *Tsk*.

(Night) Bah. I haven't accomplished anything today, and I should have been asleep hours ago. Still, I guess it's no surprise that I'm terrified before tomorrow. This, if it goes okay, makes or breaks it all. Either I finally get on to the road to some fixed purpose and stop being just a useless bum hiding behind weltschmertz (I should check the spelling but am too lazy and contrary tonight), or... well, that's about it. I'm glad I was wise enough to ask for someone to see that I really go to the employment office, and that bro agreed. (And I was - typically enough - so overoptimistic I thought I might make it to ballet in the morning! No way. Probably won't make anything else either. I do have two serious emails to write, one more serious and extensive than the other, and lots of rather urgent sewing to do, and a shortish translation... but I'm no good for anything tonight. At least there's nothing too unhealthy to eat anywhere about.

And while this is hanging in the balance, my heart and dreams keep straying towards half-forgot longings and inspirations that have nothing to do with work or studies or other dull realities. They have nothing concrete to hang on to, except for fannish loves, and since my inspiration leads nowhere these days, I'm just mute and teary and messed up.

You'll just have to wait over this. I hope I'll feel better tomorrow evening (and make it to flamenco!)... but we'll see. It may happen that I manage to run into someone completely unsympathetic, and in that case there is a very real the danger that it all goes to hell in a handbasket, with a lid on. It's quite possible for it to go so. For - despite what delusions my Mother keeps up - things do not have a tendency to work themselves out. So for me, this is a very real step into a scorching pyre.

Pray I get to rise.

Right now, I feel like I'm being punished for putting on airs, thinking I'm actually good for something, by changing both the actual frontpage quotation and the diary frontpage quotation for more hopeful stuff before there was any actual basis for it...

28 Jan 06: Empowerment in Dreams

I dreamed of larping, which is not new, but this time I got to borrow someone's horse and actually ride it (unlike before, where the horse disappears or turns into a bicycle, if I ever get to the actual riding part at all). Twice. Galloping for long stretches. They were lovely horses, too. There definitely was an underlying sense of triumph, even though inside the dream, of course, I shouldn't have known there was anything special about this. Yet, on some level, I did. (Besides, I seem to recall interesting times in the LARP itself... and after that, Qtti for some reason was arranging for a few of us to go and be performers at a medieval event somewhere in northern Sweden, and the organisers chose whom they wanted based on photos from this larp, and they picked just the ideal group of friends and included me, too - and it felt good. Yes, it was a small thing, not a really important thing, but it still felt good. And now, awake, it feels good to know that my dreams are beginning to allow me to succeed in something.)

27 Jan 06: ...And Dropping the Balls

Bleargh. It seems I've been overdoing it a bit, as severe headache and sleep caught up on me and ruined today's fine plans. Oh well, I guess one must sleep sometimes, particularly in this still- continuing recovery phase (no matter how much more productive and impressive it would be not to need it - at all, preferably). Can't force oneself from almost-total inactivity to constantly frantic action in an instant. Besides, the body needs recovery from the exercise (for which staying up until three at the computer is very, very counterproductive - must remember that, too!). Still, no employment office today, and that is a cause for alarm.

Anyone have the time and determination to see me there on Monday? I'd like to make sure I won't blow this, not this time, when it's such a crucial step in the recovery.

I'm still going to flamenco this evening.

I don't have anything intelligent to share, but Yoe does. (Found this link in a couple of places before me, so I'm hesitant to add it here. But I think it matters. And I'm kind of glad I share the feeling of its importance with Janka and Moira both. I always feel they have so much more worthwhile opinions than anything I can put into words.)

(Night: ...But Starting Up Again) The flamenco class was inspiring, both because it was presently a challenge (they've progressed to the level where they can do the arms so that they basically look the way flamenco arms look, while doing a dance combination, and this is yet beyond me) and because it still feels very much my thing, despite the fact that I have a couple of natural disadvantages for this particular form of dance. My arms are short and rather thick, so I must work them really hard for any effect, and as my arm mobility and finger coordination both suck at present, I have to be really persistent and strict with them for now (and maybe always). Also, I'm not sure my neck was as straight and pulled back as it should have been (it's easier in flamenco than in ballet, but as I do have that horrible mannerism of pushing my head forward, which results in a slight hunch overall and has already developed into a more-or-less permanent angle at the back of my neck, it's not enough for me just to "stand straight": I have to actively pull back and up). Even so, even with these possible disencouragements, I'm all ravenous for more, and can't wait for Monday and my catch-up lesson. The teacher was much to my liking: she was positive, but exact, and made us repeat everything several times. I would, however, have liked more basic technique included - but I suppose there will be more of that again when the sevillanas is done.

Besides, the mirrors at TAT1 are marvelously flattering. They must be distorted, because I certainly am not that far into a healthy weight yet. But it was nice to feel pretty when dancing, even if it was because of mirrors.

Tammikuu was in the same class and was a great help, showing me the basics of the sevillanas sequence while waiting. And it feels good to know there's another person in the class who has also started it only recently (but has done loads of other dancing as well).

Tq kindly offered me a ride home as well, and then later Ari and Mikis came over to catch a couple of episodes of "Galactica"; they just left. Tomorrow, there's some "Firefly" evangelising on the program, and I hope to catch up on my sewing while doing that. I do love introducing friends to good things they haven't yet had the opportunity to see - not that I'm ever one of the first to get excited about anything, but when I finally do, I really love to share it.

Yesterday, I wondered about fitting a private life into everything, especially later in the spring - but the truth is, I'd really like one. And if real romance isn't available, some physical closeness would feel nice too. The lack suddenly made itself felt today, again.

26 Jan 06: Juggling w/ Time, Like Normal People

Okay, so now I'm starting to have active hobbies and regular meetings with friends, and I'm already falling behind with my improved sewing habits, missing my books and feeling I don't have enough time to write even this diary (though of course I usually spend a lot more time online surfing through stuff and pretending I'm writing). And sleeping less than eight hours a night (which immediately shows around my eyes - growing older sucks). How am I going to manage when working (or active studying) is added to this? And what about getting an actual private life - where would something like that fit? How do you guys all manage? Seriously, tell me!

Met Heli, who delivered the wine jug she got for the props collection (it's very nice) and gave me an overview of the best bits of her two weeks in Egypt. Nice to hear it was such a great trip. Then debated a bit between two classes and finally chose Suvi's JI. I think it was the right choice, as I had a good lesson where I could concentrate on the proper execution that I found so lacking yesterday, and really felt it in my muscles at (and after) every combination. I did the pointe exercises on demi-pointe, to work on pull-up and body balance, and it felt good, too. Tomorrow, break in ballet, but it's flamenco time, finally. I don't think I can dare Nelli's J2/3 on Saturday yet, so that'll probably be a rest day.

No, I won't be this deeply absorbed in ballet for all of the foreseeable future - I won't be able to afford more than a couple of classes a week anyway, I'm pretty sure of that. But since I can use the lessons left from last summer (and those of the first week in this period), I want to work through this bumbling catch-up stage as soon as possible. Also, it certainly won't hurt fitting better into my bliaut at the Unikankare Midwinter feast the weekend following (I don't know if I'll yet be up to entertaining people with some jumping and twirling, but it's not out of the realm of possibility).

Lost started today, of course, but first of all, I was still at ballet, and second, despite all the hype I'm not sure it's my thing (I always start feeling contrary when something is hyped that hard, and I've heard it doesn't stay as good after the first season - that it doesn't quite deliver on what it promises). I don't think "Deadwood" is that either, though I do find the latter very well done. I just don't like the kind of storytelling where everything is always worse than any possible idea the recipient might have had on the subject before (my pet peeve: the blood-snot-shit school of historical fiction; if people had been that miserable, humanity would not be here today - and also, people have been people, with pretty much the same mental potential and the same sort of basic drives, for all of the recorded history.) I'll probably watch both through on DVD sometimes, but I am not going to make it a priority (though I will probably watch "Deadwood" when I happen to catch it). However, I am desperate - desperate, I say! - for more of the new "Galactica". That one worked for me. I suppose that says a lot about me: I appreciate and enjoy quality in entertainment, but the things I love are altogether personal, and emotional, and escapist.

(P.S. Was reminded of perils of vanity in a most punishing manner: my pretty, pretty new boots did their best to kill or at least permanently cripple me on the way home. They have rather high heels, and while I love heels and can walk in them without problems, they also have a hard, uncushioned sole. What with all those releves at class, and with having wandered around a bit after the coffee chat with Heli, by the time I was walking home loaded with groceries in addition to the ballet bag, nails were being driven through the balls of my feet. Big nails, both above and under. Finally I had to limp one step at a time through the layer of snow on the grass beside the road, to cushion the step enough to be able to move at all. But the shoes are v.v.pretty, and I really needed presentable shoes anyway, so they must be endured. Maybe I could find a ball cushion small enough to fit in them...)

25 Jan 06: Lots of Exercise

Went swimming with Mom, determined to see to it that she gets and stays in shape as well. After all, she is probably going to live another forty years (long-lived genes), and she needs to keep her body fit enough to stay functional (which she doesn't tend to do by herself). She's into bailatino now, which is really good, and even does some yoga by herself sometimes. All good. (What's even better is that she's making big life plans for those future decades. Makes me happy, and relieved.)

Own fitness program progressing as well: in addition to the morning swim, made it to Emma's J2 class today. Not that it was a good one for me: her barre was a total brain-twister both musically and combination-wise, so I could not concentrate on proper execution of movements, which means it wasn't as useful as it should have been. Turnout notably absent, shoulders almost as bad, pull-up a catastrophe we're not even going to mention. Even so, I have two choices of more straightforward classes (as far as I know) tomorrow, so I can make up for it then. Besides, it was lovely to do some catching up with Emma, as we used to go to the same classes and danced in Pikkarainen, the student ballet theatre led by Ritva Kuusinen-Schorin (one of the legendary old-school teachers of whom I have the fondest, warmest memories - she was exacting, inspiring, compassionate and had a great sense of humour as well as wisdom of age).

So I didn't dare Jane's class even today, but it'll happen next week (if not sooner, if she's still substituting for Nelli on Sunday). Besides, I tried to check a bit of the Advanced lesson she was teaching before Emma's class started, and it didn't seem impossible to get there in a month or two, if I can just keep at this... (and Emma encouraged me to go to Jane's Friday morning J3/Adv. class - well, maybe next week...)

The time in between exercise was exhausting in its own way, as Mom and I went shopping, but it was satisfying, too. She needed bailatino shoes and had a recommendation and a discount waiting; I came home with a pair of proper ballet tights (which I have to make last for as long as possible, even if it's with hope and the Holy Spirit) and new winter boots (nice ones, unlike the comfy hiking boots; and not in need of expensive repairs like the other pair I own - and they were a ridiculously good bargain, too). Good day indeed. And by now I can even feel proud of yesterday's huge dig into the strata of long-avoided paperwork, and feel that I deserved today's fun and profit.

Tomorrow, more paperwork, some translations, friends and more ballet. For Friday, I'm working up the courage for the employment office visit, and then there's the long-awaited flamenco class in the evening... However, pending therapy situation still causing lots of suspense and apprehension.

24 Jan 06: A Hard Day's Work Is Still A Baby Step

Most of the plans I had made for today changed at the last minute, and so instead of meeting people and going to ballet I spent the daylight hours by beginning the paper-organising Paula was going to help me do, and then fleamarket-scouting for the props collection. Lots of interesting stuff, but the salesperson was not very accommodating, and so it'll have to wait (and I was left feeling ashamed for not having money with me right then and there, when I was not going to be the one who pays, anyway). After a momentary hiccup of panic and therefore too much food, I shook myself up and got back to papers-scavenging, with Paula's compassionate company for encouragement. I went through many long-avoided piles and after some despairing moments, found everything I have (I suspect I still need to ask for something to prove I was employed in Espoo full-time for almost four years). Am now as prepared for unemployment benefit application and study program application as I can be.

So tired, and still only that one thing. I know it is a very big thing, but am strugging to feel it. And missed ballet, too. And didn't call my therapist to prod her.

Trying this hard to find reasons to be unhappy instead of satisfied with something that is now done must be pathological. I wish I understood the psychology in this one, but I don't. (Maybe it's because these past weeks, I've concentrated so totally on getting back to dance and progress with sewing that now that I've done neither, I feel as if I've done nothing - even though this is more important, of course. It has to be.)

23 Jan 06: Memes Reaching This Far: Odd Habits

Taika asked me into the meme where you have to confess to five of your weird little habits. I think I have dozens of them, but I'll try and pick some of my silliest mannerisms:

1. I twist my lower lip with my fingers when thinking (pinching it together in the middle with thumb and middle finger and sort of letting the resulting bunch roll under and around again). I've never looked at myself doing it in the mirror, but it must look pretty odd. (In fact, I keep doing it now that I'm thinking on the list to follow.)

2. Another thing I do when thinking or waiting is to draw around the nail and first knuckle of my thumb with my middle finger, in a repeating teardrop shape. I can do this with just the left hand or both hands simultaneously.

3. This is terribly embarrassing: I pick my nose in private, and I tend to forget not to do it in public as well.

(Bah, I'll have to edit this - I was just telling you things you know already, like how I hate the moment of getting up from bed, and how I read while walking, and how I am incapable of passing a cheap deal of decorative fabric at a fleamarket, and how I desperately want to enjoy tabletop roleplaying but always fall prey to my fears of making decisions, of just going with the flow and taking charge.)

4. I have a phobia of finishing up anything, but most seriously any sewing project. When it's done, it's done, and I'll have to admit to its imperfections... and even when said imperfections are totally imaginary, the thought is terrifying. I suspect this is why I so often build my own LARP costumes haphazardly, so they will be altogether imperfect from start to finish (and knowing this, I have a hard time taking compliments for them).

5. I'm a channel-surfer. Even if I am watching something on the TV that I actually concentrate on, I flip channels at every moment my attention wanders even for a second. It must be murder to anyone in the vicinity.

Well, that's five... I don't think there are any more people to pass this on to, so I'll do a Merten and leave it here.

Now, must steel oneself and dig up papers for the unemployment benefit.

(Night) Well, well. It seems that life proves itself sometimes, even in my existence: this was an eventful day where some things went completely wrong, but there were several delightful or hopeful surprises as well. The worst was that my therapist still has not sent a report for the therapy grant: she has computer problems (so she really can't type a report anywhere else?). When I reminded her that her report was the basis for the whole thing, and that I had trusted it, she claimed that she had not understood this from my phone call at all (even though we clearly agreed to write our respective papers and sent them). She claimed further that she thought I had got a report from the psychiatrist of whom I specifically had said I didn't need to meet her, as last year this psychiatrist had already doubted both availability and use of further grant - the whole gist of what I had said was that I didn't need to go through her, but that the managing psychiatrist of the fund would accept a report from my therapist instead! My therapist says she can't reach the secretary of the fund, and I believe that - this person's role seems to be to act as a hindrance between applicants and actual decision-maker - but now my therapist wants to ask the secretary if I really don't need the psychiatrist's report: of course she will say anything to discourage us if given the chance! I'm really worried over this, and completely baffled at the way my therapist is trying to dodge responsibility. Who is it that I've been going to all this time, after all? And if she isn't dependable when I need her, how can I believe she can teach me to become a more dependable person, myself??

The good things include a) that Tanssiopisto will allow me to use the ten lessons I missed last summer during this semester b) I met Mirka (and got her coat delivered) and Laura, got lots of understanding and felt much better about people and myself in general c) Paula promised to come over tomorrow to help me go through my papers to find the ones I need for the unemployment application d) a friend got in touch and asked me if I want to work through our bad argument; of course I do. It'll take quite a bit of work and words, though, and I'm more than a bit apprehensive about that, but at least they want to give me a chance. I did miss today's ballet class, as I got mixed up and went to the wrong studio, but I can make that up tomorrow.

Updated sewing diary. And there's some fabrics I yearn for at Stockmann's sales...

22 Jan 06: Self-defeating Spirals, And the Struggle to Break Them

My life sucks. Life - what life? I have no life. I have inessential, inconsequential attempts at it, and even when those attempts succeed, all the really important ones fail.

I still have huge troubles over how to be a friend. I don't dare to contact people myself, because I fear they will think I'm pushy; I think that when they have the time or the inclination to bother themselves with my presence, they will let me know. When someone expresses appreciation to me, I roll over and beg like a nice little puppy. It's terribly important to me, and I take it as a stone-chiseled fact for eternity - but from then on, I don't know what to do. And if something goes even slightly awry, I panic completely and think that they will now hate me forever - the stone has been broken, and that's it. And I'm constantly afraid of not being interesting enough, friendly enough, to be worthy of all those people that I think of as friends. And it's even further complicated by the fact that when I'm nervous - which is almost always when meeting people these days - I tend to babble. My first reaction to silence or discomfort is to talk. And so friends think I only care about myself, when actually this is not true at all. I do talk a lot, but often it is just reflex, and afterwards I kick myself like mad because I really wanted to know how the friend was doing, what they were thinking, all that...

So - please, dear people, please, I beg your long-stretched understanding a bit more: please trust that I want to hear about you - I really do, I love listening to people I care about - and if my mouth runs on by reflex, just cut it off and say it's your turn. It's what I most want. And... please, if you can? Can you still give me some leeway with this self-confidence thing? If you could - for a little longer - try and remember that most everything that goes wrong, goes back to my fear that you do not care after all - not as an insult to you but because I don't see myself worth caring... I know it sounds self-obsessed, but I'm trying to work it out, I really am. I'm just not done yet.

God, I desperately hope I get that therapy funding continued for this one more year! I still don't know, and I suppose it's currently making me more nervous than I'd noticed: if I don't, I don't think the work I've done so far is enough - I think the road will drop off here. I won't ever be a functional human being, a functional professional, a functional friend. God - I certainly am more afraid than I thought. I guess I've just become so used to so many different strands of fear and ill-feeling that I don't quite see when one of them gets bad. (That is one thing to remember: I have lived with unhappiness for so long that it becomes a default state, and it's hard to see that it could and should be different, and hard to see when one thing really hurts more than usual. One just muddles through in a general cloud of half-hidden misery.)

There is still something to add to the Accounting Book of the Ex: in November, I wrote about how I had a hard time forgiving him, and then how I finally pinpointed the basis to how I could not forgive myself for "settling", for "giving myself to make a man", for female self-sacrifice in all the wrong ways. But after that, when talking about this with my therapist (and with Tomi, as it happened), I realised that there was also a not-so-healthy dynamic in the relationship for which he was not completely blameless, one that fed my inferiority complex and bolstered his ego, I suppose in an effort to get rid of his own inferiority complex in turn. You see, he was the Misunderstood Genius, which by default made me the Non-genius, the Stupider one, and as there are only two people in a (usual) relationship, the Stupid One without the -er. And I was deluded enough, and already self-hating enough, to believe it, to accept it, to make it a part of my sacrifice: of course he had to be Special for my sacrifice to make sense. And so I accepted the part of the Non-special one. The one Less Intelligent. And also, both he and his mother constantly made me feel inferior because I was emotional and temperamental: they believed firmly, and made me also believe, that Rational was not only the opposite of Emotional, but also the same as Intelligent, and Intelligent was of course good, so Emotional was not. (Now I wonder if they've ever heard of tunneäly, even now?) So in the context of this relationship, I was both Stupid and Out Of Control - and something in my already fragile sense of self absorbed this and spread it to mean all my life.

And until I stopped feeling blame for resenting my ex-husband for having been someone I settled for, I could not see this great harm I let him - and myself - us - do to me. Now I also understand that it was not the beginning of my low self-confidence (like Tommi's emotional abuse was not the beginning either), but it certainly did it no favours. I don't know when this understanding will begin to work itself into anything concrete in my current situation. It will take some time, even now.

I wish everything didn't take so much time.

Now, as to the actuality of the current situation: I've spent most of my weekend indoors, trying to hide from the cold like any sensible creature (and I still wonder what ancestor it was that came to this killingly changing bit of forest and fell and considered it a reasonable place to live...). On Friday, however, I went to visit Inka, and it was really nice to catch up. Yesterday, Ari and Mikis came over for some "Galactica", and were so well won over that they came back later in the evening with Salla, who was also persuaded to watch and to her own surprise, got hooked. (Well, after the mini-series and "33", who wouldn't be?) It was really nice just to be - just to enjoy the company of friends and some good entertainment. I did feel a little unhappy that I had slept the early day away, when I had hoped to sew (for them particularly), but later, then.

Today, I went to ballet like a good girl, and again dared Nelli's class. This one was much more advanced than I expected from knowing it was only one level up from Thursday's, but it was still easy enough for me to manage the combinations, as weak and wobbling as I am yet. I know enough that I could go to Advanced class, but I have so little strength that I could not perform the fast exercises in tempo, or stand securely at the centre while holding my turnout, or raise my legs so that it would look in any way tolerable on that level. I'll work my way through JII at least for the next three weeks of this period, and even that's a bit fast. I also need to exercise at home - at the very least do lots of deep abs and developpés and stretching. We'll see how it goes, but some time in the spring I should be back in Advanced, trying to rediscover the joy of dancing while learning to accept the limits of my aging legs. We'll see how the flamenco might help with that - once I actually get to the flamenco class!

And now I really need to see about that space for a regular dance and choreography workshop for us roleplayers. Like, now. I've been thinking about it for three years, if I remember correctly, and it's high time to get from thinking to action.

There's more about today, but I think I have to take a break now, as it's painful, in part needlessly so, and in part too difficult. But as a tangent to that, I'd like to make a public note to the person who thought I was a Strong Woman and had to be disillusioned from that belief: how dare you now say that you are "sorry you expected too much of me"?? No, what you expected was something different from what I actually am. That does not make me a faulty, incomplete being except maybe in your mind. It's the same as if you expected me to burst out in opera arias, when actually I am not a good singer (though a moderately acceptable dancer): the fact that I am different as a woman than what you expected does not make me a lesser woman. But, well, I don't suppose much can be expected of someone who only has two boxes for women they meet: strong woman or little girl. People have countless differing ways of being strong. Thank you, and good night.

20 Jan 06: ...And The Bad

Good: maybe a small thing, but finished a sewing project (just a single item of clothing, but even so).

Bad: lost fight against panic over rejection, friend's anger. So no going to flamenco class (too scared), ate everything in the house. At least there was a fight, which is better than instant surrender. Now just wanting to be someone else, somewhere else - even dreams will do.

19 Jan 06: The Good Way of Aching

A day of many small accomplishments: went swimming with Mom in the morning, despite the roaring cold. Ate healthily. Finished the repairs for Mirka's coat and did half of Auri's skirt (hope to finish it tonight - tomorrow morning). Went to ballet class, and even dared a teacher famous for being very strict. It was the perfect choice: the class was simple and exacting, so there was time to concentrate on recovering basic technique and strength. I think I'll go to her class on Sunday as well, so maybe next week I could take the classes I've signed up for.

I'm looking forward to tomorrow's flamenco class with some trepidation, as I'm trying to catch up to a group that started in the autumn, but I hope that that way it would be more challenging and interesting. We'll see how it goes.

Practised my posture all the way home, trying to get both head and shoulders back where they belong. Was forcibly reminded of need to strengthen stomach muscles (or all of the mid-torso really). My posture's abominable, as evidenced by several game pictures, most lately those of the final game in the vampire chronicle. I push my head forward and hunch my shoulders without even realising I do it (though with Kaarina, I think it was also an unconscious attempt of a submissive but eager, young, naive effect in the posture).

Ow. Now my neck muscles are killing me.

18 Jan 06: Patterns of Weakness

Two days went to sleep and recovery as usual; today I've been up and working towards actual work and actual exercise. Tomorrow, these may even happen. So there are no accomplishments to list for this week, and even the weekend only has M&D's linen tablecloth and napkins.

BTW, it is allowable to kick my ass about going to ballet class. I've made a commitment to those lessons after all. It's just not very motivating now that I'm totally out of any shape at all.

I may have hurt my Dad on the phone today, but if I did, it was because I was really getting irritated. They're trying to push Herbalife on me, and I'm all up for using it now when I got some for a Christmas present, but I certainly won't be able to continue after it runs out, with my nonexistent budget, and I absolutely will not even consider starting to market it onwards. I hate selling anything, and they should know it by now. As it is, I have find the vitamins and herbal supplements quite agreeable, and the shake/drink is not too awful either, and rather handy on some days, and I know they both have lost quite a bit of weight and inches on it. So it's fine for people who have the money and who are too lazy to plan for a balanced diet themselves (particularly one for losing weight), but it's not a miracle solution. Nothing ever is. And I hate selling anything so much it's nearly a phobia. I hope it won't be a big deal, I really do.

Talking of phobias, I may be getting over some of my nervousness with tabletop roleplaying - it seems to be becoming easier for me. Not that I'm still very good at it, but at least I don't panic over not being good. Which is all positive, as I do enjoy it when I can.

Still no news on the therapy front - actually, I was really disappointed with my therapist for not having sent my evaluation in before Christmas already. I mean, I have reasons for procrastinating, but what's her excuse?? And on Tuesday I heard she still hadn't sent it, but at least she promised to call the funding secretary that very day. Still, now I'm nervous about something I thought I could trust - and now can't.

16 Jan 06: The Endlessness of the Dark Country

I thought that by now, I would be old enough, grown enough, not to worry about facing any other fears except those of official matters - not that they are small or easy or even certainly possible, but that that would be the thing to deal with. I thought that I had these interpersonal things mostly figured out. I was wrong.

Is there no limit to the things I can come up with to be afraid about? It seems not. But as I fooled myself into thinking I'm mostly okay - I'm nice, I'm lovely really, I'm just a bit small and helpless but I'm working on it - I tried to write that way, too. I have not been examining myself properly in this diary lately, and that is not to be tolerated. I have not admitted to the really painful things, just the blatant ones, the easy ones: who would not be afraid of not being a success, or not finding any meaning to one's life? It's not really altogether personal, in the end - the "other side" is comprised of general expectations and the machine of the society, and the people in the machine are not personally acquainted with me, so there's nothing there that goes quite into the marrow about their rejection: it's just how things are with everyone. I've just been a bit more vocal and a bit more anxious about it than most people, as I always am.

But then there are the ugly fears. The garbage pits of the emotional landscape. And those are the hard ones, because they are not passive. The fears about profession and accomplishment mostly harm only oneself, but these are the ones that cause one to act out and hurt others, no matter how much one wants not to do so.

Last night, among other things, I dreamed that two friends of mine who are married, were having another wedding ceremony, with yet a third to come after that in a different location (the first in the dream was in a church, the second would be a Wiccan ceremony; I was wondering about them but thought that maybe they had got some new information about how Wiccan ceremonies actually should go and wanted to do it "properly", and to have the church wedding first to placate some relatives). I was Maid of Honour in the church, and I was scared about that because even in the dream I thought it really was not my place, and people would certainly wonder about it. After the church ceremony there was a short reception at the back of the church for toasts and things, and by then I was just another guest. The toasts started, and suddenly I was told by the bride's mother that I would be next to give my family's congratulations (this was odd because even in the dream I knew that they didn't even know my family). I had prepared for no such thing, and even though it probably would not be impossible for me in real life to come up with something even so, in the dream I was paralysed with terror and could not say anything when it came to my turn. I knew it was proper, I knew I was obliged to do so for my friends, but I could not. The bride's mother threatened that I would have to speak or get out of the reception, right there in front of everybody, and all I could do was whimper and whisper how I just could not. Then someone else went to greet the couple personally, and suddenly everyone was doing that, and it was too late, and I could not ever correct this slight to my friends again. (After some amusing performances of LARP acquaintances as various gods, the reception got to moving to the other location, with me dragging behind, losing the people who had offered me a ride, losing my sense of where the car was parked and then noticing I had left my handbag in the church and having to go back for it even though I had no idea how to get anywhere after that... and then it all petered out with me getting lost in the church itself.)

Why was this dream so important? Because there is a bundle of these ugly fears connected with these friends in real life, and I know they are disappointed with me, but I don't know if I am able to do anything about it. It may be beyond me - it is a thing that has been beyond me for years now. Right now, I feel like I want to delve into it in all the gory details (my gore, not that of others), but to lay the ground for that I would need to get into more private stuff than I find acceptable. So I'm trying to figure out what I can say... actually, I may need to think on this a bit more.

Later, then. I hope.

But this one - this one is bad.

13 Jan 06: Never-Failing Pre-exhaustion

Should be busy in preparation. Am tired and unwilling, haven't any nice clothes to wear (none of my own projects finished, again), and everything sucks. Well, at least I won't have to drive myself.

12 Jan 06: Touching Points (And Sore Ones)

I've noticed that it's suddenly become a cliche that people are looking for personal meaning for their lives - it's supposedly one of the current Trends. So again, I'm just Ms. Mediocre...

In that light, yesterday's small accomplishments - making it to morning ballet class and getting somewhere with the corrections to Mirka's coat - do not sound like much. All I'm doing, after all, is moving towards more ordinariness. And that is more than a little frightening.

Be that as it may, at least they were accomplishments, and at least I got to lunch with Mirka, so the day was not spent in nothing. Must remember that that is good already. The ballet was miserable work, of course, and the worst part was that I seem to have grown too weak to be able to get off the floor at all! However, that is certainly a state that is possible to correct. And despite that shameful weakness, I did not skip a single exercise, for which I am proud (I gave myself permission to do that if need be, but didn't)!

What was not good was being all exhausted by the time I got home from town and grocery shopping. I went to bed before six for a nap, but predictably slept until morning. This is not yet as should be.

Expecting weekend's SCA event with more than usual trepidation, for personal reasons.

(Evening) ...I wish some things weren't so hard even now. I'm sitting here stitching and shedding tears because I should have used different thread and different, decorative stitch and I should have made these napkins even bigger after all and I don't know how to embroider even though I know the recipients expect me to, and I can't make these things special enough. Special enough to prove that I have something special to offer as a friend, because I don't know any other things I could offer to show I have something to give, something worth caring about, worth appreciating. I have nothing. I'm worth so little it could just as well be nothing compared to others, younger, faster, more dazzling, with more resources and more health. And this is not the only case, but a reminder of at least two or three other difficult situations where I don't know... don't know how to be a friend. I clearly don't. Or am just too boring and stupid after all.

God, anyone - when is this going to start being easier? At least a little? Please, when?

10 Jan 06: And Yet, Life Goes On

I just want to clarify a few things about Saturday's rant. I am not trying to say that my being passive, and receptive, and reactive by nature is an inherent trait of my being a woman; I am most definitely not trying to say anything about what women in general are or should be. I am simply saying that deep inside, I am this way, and that does not go along with the general archetype of "strong woman", and so if someone feels drawn to me because they think I am like that, or that I like to take charge, they should shed their illusions as quickly as possible.

(Also, it does not mean I would not have very strong convictions about many things, or that I could be easily swayed from championing them. Or that on a level of casual aqcuaintances I'd be like this at all, particularly when dealing with matters dear to me.)

I have some other opinions tangential to this subject, but I can't get them down without it coming off as potentially aggravating to some people I know, and that is so far from what I want it's wrong already, so I'll have to try and think on them a bit more.

Besides, I clearly had not slept enough even on Saturday morning, because I slept both that day and Sunday away - as well as the night in between - wich resulted in yet another failed promise, and yet another panic of apologies. Now I think I'm finally close to some control of the sleeping thing again, and this morning I can even list a real accomplishment: I finally got my therapy grant application written and taken to Peijas. I'm trying to up today's quota by finishing some more things, but we'll see.

My brother was profiled in Helsingin Sanomat yesterday, on a series of articles on current folk music in Finland. In related news, Hyperborea is Band of the Year at Kaustinen this year. Many congratulations!

I finished Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell this morning, finally. Delightful style, entertaining stories and satisfactory conclusion, certainly. Still, I must admit that at times I was sighing at the endlessness of it, and kept checking the index to see when certain things would finally more forward. I can't quite come up with anything that should have been edited out: the story is exactly as long as it must be. And I can't find fault with the style either: if you've chose to imitate nineteenth-century style, you must stick to it. Even so, I sympathise with people who have tried to read it but given up: the style does make it a bit plodding. I'm sorry - no matter how beautiful a pastiche, no matter how engaging the plot - but it does. Still, a worthy read all in all.

(Afternoon) Another accomplishment for today: finally finished and sent a debrief that was shamefully late, later than anything in any way acceptable. Still, done. Means I'll allow myself to sign up for dance lessons.

(Later) One more accomplishment: after telephone help from Lin, filled the basic form for unemployment online. Now there's extra incentive to get my butt there for the unemployment benefit and that finish-up-your-studies program.

07 Jan 06: Of Archetypes

Sleeping was good, so I had time to reread the email that caused me such vexation last night and notice what nice, flattering things it said of me, mostly. However, I still want to address one misconception that I meet bafflingly often - and did even when it most certainly was in no way applicable.

Okay. This is how it goes: I am not a Strong Woman. That is, I am not the sort who, to paraphrase that very kind email, goes and kicks the dragon's ass all by herself, needing no saviour. Naturally I believe in the equality of the sexes - equal pay, equal treatment, eaqual choice - this is not about that. And I also want to get behind that old impression created by the fact that my basic nature is an extrovert: even when I've been very scared and small and needy, I have been covering it up very loudly. However, it has always been just that: cover. Shield. At present, I am no longer quite as lost and scared, so I suppose one could say that I have become strong, or at least stronger, as a person. And I certainly concede that I am a woman.

However, I am not Zoe, or Starbuck, or any other warrior woman. I think they are wonderful, and admirable, but I am not that. Force me to choose, and I am Inara. Force me to war, and I will be a healer or at most, a priest (but more probably one of the people running around bringing stuff for people who actually know what to do). Force me to exercise, and I will choose dance or swimming or horseback riding or maybe formal martial arts, but never athletics or team games. I don't think I'd enjoy the same computer games that men do (though I'm only basing this on the observation that I seem to enjoy the sort of LARPs that have had difficulty in attracting male players lately). I have very little capacity for any kind of battles for the sake of battles - be they wits or skills or strength. If it's for a cause, that's different, and even then I'm not easily persuaded to action. I believe in compassion and acceptance and communities. I have incredibly conventional aesthetics: I love beauty, decoration, flowers, lush materials, sunsets, stars, and everything that is nice and untainted with darkness or even irony (I can appreciate irony, and I'd never deny it where I find it, but I don't like it). I love the sun, period. I don't love ignorance, but my knowledge is sort of all-rounded and has no practical applications. I love security. I love completeness. And I believe in the necessity of passion for romance (and all right, some moderate - not darkness, but richness - in my passion). I would never give up my right to choose what I do in my life, but in any other sense I can barely be called a modern woman at all, I suppose.

So I don't fit in with the archetype of Strong Woman. Don't try to deal with me under that impression: it won't be me. I also want to refute another strong archetype: I may in time grow to be a nurturer, strong enough to analyze other people's emotions with the same apparent ease I talk about my own, and take them on with the same openness, but that time is not yet. It is easy for me to talk about emotions, it always was: it's just a quirk. It doesn't mean much except that perhaps people get some impression of the way I function a bit faster than with some others. Don't come to me if you feel drawn to women who take control, take the lead, take over: that is not me. The loud voice is as much external as any particular of appearance. The me inside is still, and deep, and yielding.

Um. That was unexpectedly hard not to erase, so I suppose it must be true. I'm just not sure I even want the world to know that much. That, after all, is what people have abused before. However, in any case there is much ground around that inner core, so most people will never meet it. I've tried to cultivate all that landscape, so there would be something else besides the phoenix's raging need - I try very hard to learn to be a whole person, a person who has something to give to others, and who can see other ways of being and feeling, because that did not come naturally to me (empathy is a deceptive trap: for a child, it means thinking that everyone is just like you yourself). I have much work to do still. But a warrior, I am not, nor will ever be.

06 Jan 06: ...And the Will

My sleeping patterns were getting impossible again, but luckily I had reasons to stay up today: went swimming and had dinner with Mili, then went to see the new Pride and Prejudice with Clo & Johanna, and was glad of all these activities. The movie was not at all as horrible as I had feared (though still severely flawed, and I still find Keira Knightley irritating), exercise was good, and now I may be able to get back to normal rhytm again.

Which would be at least some sort of an accomplishment. I have to learn to be content with small sorts of accomplishments even now, and not be overly impatient. I still wish I could have had the energy to get on with my sewing by now.

Can't write any more - so tired as to be easily vexed, and when that happens, sleep is wisdom. (Though I so, so want to vent my vexation. Boy do I want to vent... But no, this much I have learned. Not in a sleep-deprived state. That way lies overreaction and peevishness.)

03 Jan 06: The Fragility of the Body

Sciatica. Aaaoowww... It tends to start acting up when I've been holed up inside too long, particularly if I've been reading lounging on my bed for days in a run - which should already teach me something about doing that. Today it's been worse than in a long while, though. I'd say years. Painful enough to be very distracting. And the only remedy - exercise, exercise, exercise - is not an immediate relief, and is damn unmotivating when in pain. (A short trip to the grocery store was not enough to bring relief, apparently.)

Consequently, I've been somewhat lacking in the realisation of my resolutions today...

02 Jan 06: New, Old, New

Years do begin to bleed into each other by now. Remember this, my younger friends: hang on to the preciousness of each moment of where you are now, because soon enough there will be so much to remember that it can't all stay sharp and separate and brilliant in your memory. On the other hand, the not-so-brilliant things will mercifully be mixed in and obscured by the rest... I also think that I am quite content to trade that sharpness of individual experiences and memories for life experience in general. I don't even think of it as "life experience" as such - after all, I haven't really experienced that many things of note - and I hesitate to use the dreaded phrase "growing up", but I am deeply, deeply glad to be less the person I was when I was younger, and more the person I am becoming by now. I have always been nearly phobic about being ignorant or acting on false knowledge, both in small things and big, and so the slow and often difficult and reluctant growth of knowledge and experience has become a treasured thing for me. I have never particularly enjoyed the actual process of learning in itself, but now that I've slowly come to see that the results matter more, in the end, than the pain of the process of recognising one's own ignorance, I'm beginning to... well, not quite enjoy it, but accept it, and am working towards embracing it.

Growth is good. Better knowledge, more wisdom, is good. Therefore, learning is good; taking action towards the things one seeks to learn is good. These may seem self-evident platitudes, but to have actually understood these things deep in my bones is another matter entirely.

It seems therapy is finally paying off. If indeed this is so, expect more plans and more actual action for them. I will try and learn to approach my fears from the edges, at first: I will strive to do smaller things, people things, without falling prey to timidity and exhaustion (I know friends have been very understanding, but by now it might be possible to get to a state where I don't have to give them inconvenience). I will remember it's okay to take care of my body. And I will stop procrastinating on small things - it makes no sense, as those things won't disappear anywhere anyway.

Also, I have decided it is all right for me not to become a schoolteacher. This is a huge thing, but more of it later.

Christmas was okay. I was nervous and busy and late all day, but managed. I had to meet a bit too many people during the Christmas days, but I muddled through. Last week was mostly spent by recovering from it all - meaning lots of sleep and lots of reading. Also watched the rest of Season I of the new Galactica with Anni one day. New Year was nice and quiet with the Q's. Now I need to get to ordinary life, and so am trying to get timetables back to track - once again. Seems some things don't change that soon.

I have so many books to read I'm not going to run out any time soon, and it's actually more stressful than fun right now - because I want to have read them all already, and be on to more books. There's just not enough time in the world for all the books I should read, and it really bothers me. It also bothers me that I'm not as excited about some books as I should be...

Since my last note, I've finished Quicksilver (fine, though so slow), The Mysterious Flame of Queen Loana by Eco (so-so, so a big disappointment), Stravaganza: City of Masks by Mary Hoffman (acceptable, though why my mother sees fit to buy me children's books and my brother a 1000-page fantasy comedy of manners really eludes me - luckily I got Jonathan Strange & Mr. Norrell from P&P), Seduced by Moonlight by Laurell K. Hamilton (crack candy, though actually even less satisfying as such than the previous installments) and Howl's Moving Castle by Diana Wynne Jones (delightful as expected). I don't think my plans for proper book reviews are going to happen quite yet. Perhaps later, though.

There's another finish-your-Uni-studies program beginning in March, applications due at the end of this month. Prodding and pushing is acceptable.