You can still contact me at svaha@iki.fi

28 July 03: V. V. Bad

Very bad day. Don't want to go into details. At least back on my medication now, so mood swings should get back under lock, stock and barrel soon enough.

Could not leave for Lahti and then Savonlinna today. Tuomas backed out of the singing part at 'con, but Anni, bless her, worked out alternate solutions. Will drive to Sl. tomorrow anyway - WILL have my mini-vacation.

Tired, tired, tired.

27 July 03: The Human Condition

Absolutely should have been asleep for two hours already, but must say this: sometimes one is forced into encounters of human cattiness that are hard to believe. Whoever you are who sent that snideful, anonymous text message to Ari simply because I noted here that he has become a friend of mine: you are a mean-spirited, nasty, jealous, small-souled person, and you should bloody well go and find yourself a teacher for learning to at least fake the semblance of a life - not that anyone would care to take on a task that is so clearly beyond the intellectual and social capabilities of the task material. And all this again in a language even you may be able to understand: go screw yourself. If you have some strange gripe on how, why or whom I choose as friends, come say it to my face. Loser.

Saw Hulk with Tommi. Was excessively moved by almost everything in it except for the CGI action; was embarrassed by said excession. Much to say about it, but too tired, and the hour too late. I can see how the basic American summer action-blockbuster-moviegoer might not appreciate it, but I saw it differently. Even though parts were not as successful, and so the whole was somewhat awkward, It really ripped through my heart at several points.

26 July 03: Indulgence Is Good For You

Spent evening at Irrette's with her and Seanna, having a sauna, eating dips, cottage cheese and fruit, and watching the Buffy musical episode and the "Making Of" of same. Thoroughly enjoyed being lazy with nice people who also just want to be lazy and comfortably, socially asocial (if you know what I mean). Came back with a loot of Buffy, but been resisting the temptation so as to get to sleep properly again, as it felt so infinitely good to have finally managed that last night.

And I had richly deserved it, too, by spending the evening teaching the dance choreographies to Marika (who spent a few weeks in France while we were trying to get our stuff together) and then showing Samu, Ari and Heli the first third of the duet. I was terribly tired at first, having gone more than thirty-three hours without sleep, and messed everything up, but I started to feel much better while we progressed - Marika picked it all up with the speed and reassurance of a true pro, and the boys nearly as much so, which was a special happy surprise for me. This might work out after all...

But if we suddenly find that we have no singer for the duet and for "Alexi", it's all my fault. I only got the Finnish lyrics to "Belle" finished today, and Tuomas said he's not at all certain he can find the time to learn it any more... Oh dear heaven, I pray he will... I really, really don't think we could get anyone else even nearly as good...

Anni and I managed to detail an agreement on the principles of the process for The Other Thing For The Gala, so that is in order, too, and that is so great. It's actually pretty much a lifesaver that she argued for and agreed to taking responsibility for their song practices - one less thing for me to worry about.

Yesterday, after the practice (extremely late, that is: we worked from nine-thirty pm to one-thirty am), I took everyone else home, and then Heli and I got some junk food and sat in the kitchen, talking until five am. Today, Irrette woke me from a complete coma some time after one; I had breakfast with Heli, took Kalle to the airport for his week in Denmark, came home, ran negotiations over the phone, and cursed myself into knots over "Belle". Having finally finished and sent it, I could leave for Irre's place for the sauna etc.

Sleep calls, and practice again tomorrow. In the evening, I'm going to movies with Tommi. While I was driving through our neighbourhood on my way to Irrette, I heard a song on the radio that I simply had to call and mention to him, and while on the phone I remembered that I have to use the birthday present Lissu gave me (Finnkino summer tickets) before I leave for Savonlinna and Grandma on Monday, so we agreed to go and see something, anything (probably TTT, which I've only seen twice). (Apropos TTT, I thought its extended version might not be as huge an improvement over the theatrical release as with FOTR... but based on Internet gossip, I'm changing my mind! It feels really dumb that it's coming out on November, when one's already too worked up about ROTK to appreciate anything else properly!)

Anyway. That phonecall represented another one of those wildly sharp mood swings of the past week. The song was the one where Cher (whose voice and singing style I happen to like a lot) sings, "...No other love can take your place or match the beauty of your face". I don't know what it's called or how old it is; I never know stuff like that, but upon hearing it I've always felt my throat constrict and my heart take this one heavy fall, like the drop of a stone, or the stamp of a foot, for being so sharply reminded of Tommi, and making love to him especially. I remember the almost miraculous wonder and spiritual ecstasy I felt every time when looking into his eyes, his face, while we were joined. It was one of those things that came as a complete surprise and a real epiphany for me in that first truly passionate relationship ever: that it was a desirable, exciting thing to look at your partner in the eye (instead of closing your eyes and thinking of other people in highly complicated positions to keep your interest up at all)... He was so beautiful, so incredibly beautiful, that I wanted nothing else in the world except to drown in the expression in his eyes and to stay there forever; to die on that very moment if only I could, for there could never be any greater completion beyond that...

No other. Even now. Not that I am not already by now in an another life and dying for another love... but even so, nothing can ever, ever take away those memories, their exaltation, the fact that there is no-one like him and that no-one will ever take his special place in my heart, no-one.

Hmh. Writing takes too long, and I should have been asleep two hours ago.

Today's official recommendation: Guy Gavriel Kay's Tigana is finally available in Finnish (the first half, anyway; the rest in september). If you have not yet read it in the original, and feel like reading long fantasy books (even those that are good) in English is beyond you, go read it now. Go, go, already. I hope the translation works, but it should - Tigana is not as dependent on the runonlaulaja-like musicality of the language which was the thing that made The Fionavar Tapestry work (it might not have; probably would not have; otherwise) and which was completely abandoned in the translation. No wonder it sucked. But Tigana is an infinitely better book in all senses, firmly established as a modern fantasy classic. Do read it, do.

BTW: I can't help wondering why no-one told me that people were hanging out at Linnanmäki today, or invited me? (Who is it that still firmly sticks to the thought that I am too troublesome? And, of course, I should not ask this, as even complaining about something like this is just another example of that troublesomeness... but I can't help it, it bothers me. I want to belong back in! I always wanted to, and now I'm even able to, for my part.)

(I also miss A Certain Someone, who seems to have forgotten that I am also a loyal friend of his despite everything else... It would be nice even to stay in touch, as is usual for friends or at least acquaintances - if he won't grace me with the former honour, which he did once, but... well, let's just leave that subject -. Not that I can force him to. Not that it is acceptable to force people at all, or possible to force him into anything. I just... don't feel good about being left out completely. It's... sad and regretful and... hurts. And is not fair.)

Nah. Sleep.

"Once More, With Feeling" just gets better and better every time I see it. Giles rocks my socks, and so does Anthony Steward Head. Hinton Battle is clearly a god and should definitely be had more of, one way or another. And even though Spike's too much of a whipping boy to ever really do it for me, I admit James Masters (in a studio, in the "Making Of") is too hot to legally exist. And none of us still can figure out how on earth they managed to pass that last verse of "Under Your Spell" through the network censors...

Been too busy or too much in need of rest to answer any personal emails. Perhaps tomorrow.

25 July 03: Feet Of Clay, Feet Of Iron

It came to me almost like a revelation (as there was no new information, no new conclusions, yet suddenly I found it in me to consider it properly for the first time in an eternity) that certain gods may, indeed, have feet of clay. I wait and dread the proof of that and don't know which is stronger: wanting to know, wanting finally to be hit by reality so hard that there's just no ignoring it; or not wanting to know, not wanting to let dreams go.

Must you come now, apprentice of Daniel's angel, and John's? Can you not please let me have this a little longer...? Please...? For I must stay on my feet now, and keep others on their feet as well - literally, as on my own, figuratively.

On the other hand, do I want to be fooled? I abhor that. Except... except when I don't. How will I feel when the dream turns out to have a differing interpretation, and I could/should have known?

I said a terrible thing about someone I should never have maligned in such manner, to someone I barely know who unfortunately knows the object of the terrible comment. I did try to recant, but I can't be sure, and I am in anguish about it. I have not felt this ashamed and horrified and plain sorry for... for months. More. I just pray and pray that it would pass into forgetfulness before it causes any ripples and storms anywhere.

Oh, by the way, just in case, let's make a few things clear. I'll put this in the form of an imaginary personal ad:

Short&curvy thirtyish blonde, passionate, empathetic, private, expressive, looking to get back into the dating game for light fun, flirting, sparks, dancing, movies, coffee, discussions on anything and everything, perhaps dancing in horizontal, w/ openness and consideration. Non-drinker, non-smoker, talks too much but c. be corrected & then loves to listen. Likes nature, romance, grander-than-life-things, good literature esp. mod. fantasy, ballet, flamenco, salsa, Tolkien, SiP, Willis, Kay, deLint, RPGs, cats, the magic of stories, occasional lazy days and cuddling. You: 20-~30, kind, bright, trustworthy, life-loving male or self-assured bi female. Must be larper/re-enactor/sci-fi enthusiast/etc., experience&interest in D/s big bonus. Brainy or brawny, old friend or new person, come sweep me off my feet and out of old dreams to do it to life together! (No serious long-term offers for now: in recovery; writing pro gradu fall-winter'03. Declarations of adoration always welcome though.)

So yeah *shrug*, I'm all up for it despite old obsessions that are pretty much irrelevant to normal social life. And I am so willing to go out and have fun with interesting people, friends or acquaintances or f-of-f's, not to mention the fact that everything they say about thirtyish women and physical contact is true, and then some! I do want to share closeness with people whom I can trust and find spark with: the more Big O's AND/OR cuddles in the world, the better. And if these things would happen to drop my way, and little by little wipe those old obsessions completely into history, all the better.

Easy to see I haven't slept, again: completely irrational. I hope those who find the above insufferably dumb or self-centered will just take it as a parody of a personal ad which it half is anyway.

Gee, and guess if my song texts are done? Hm. I could sleep about an hour now - that would help in the short run - and get to bed in time tonight.

(In the evening)Today I'm feeling exactly like Leino's protagonist in the swing of the gods: thrown between sky and ground, exaltation and immolation, quicker than a falling star, a flame being born. And I am so dizzy for the movement that I don't know which way is truth and which way something else; which way is will and which way delusion.

In English: I keep swinging from mood to mood like the pendulum of a clock, except the clock is sideways to this waking world, and the pendulum swings up and down, against all reason and comprehension. And I haven't found time to sleep, even though I didn't even make it to ballet class (too tired, too out of balance), besides, rumour was that there would be a substitute teacher and that it might or might not be a good thing. I did finish the costume that was to be taken to Järvenpää and then proceeded to take it there. Bought food while waiting for the train back, then got on the phone with Paula and didn't stop for some while.

Got home, tried to think of sleeping, never found the moment. Called Irrette to reschedule and ended up talking far too long, again. Now listening to Garmarna, and Heli just came in. Marika, Annika and Ari will follow, to practice.

My moods change with less than a word - a letter, each word letter by letter.

Moira called me Many-coloured. But darling, Many-coloured was the mistake, the deluded, selfish, mad one - set against the purity and will of white flame. How can I accept the colours, when integrity is clearly in that flame? They are mistakes, and need to be bent back into white, into absolute, right?

They are mistakes, irritations, unacceptable to so many...

Another whirl of the swing, and... well, you know, I have been thinking that I kind of like these moods. Not all of them, naturally, but the overall vividness, the sharpness, the life of them. Perhaps I have tried a little too hard to compress them into a stable line.

24 July 03: Through Sunstorm, One Clear Signal

Let it be known here and everywhere that I have added another person to my soul's family. Ask me, Heli, and I will be there, always, no matter how often we see each other, or don't. This is a pledge.

No, you don't get a choice about it. Not any more, little one - proud, bright, beautiful gutsy little one. Whether you like it or hate it or find it embarrassing, you are officially in to stay.

It occurs to me that I have rarely made mention of my soul's family here - maybe once or twice, but could not remember in which entry, nor find it with a cursory glance. There are people, in addition to my immediate biological family, who have made their way into my heart and then beyond, to a place of absolute loyalty. It is built of the flint of regardless, stubborn, complete surrender beyond all reason and morality, set with the mortar of heartblood burned in fire and void, and strengthened with scattered steel rods of that paradox that Moira called integrity. Often, its laws are embarrassingly sentimental and unreasonable to the eyes of strangers. They work explicitly in one way only, and in one direction. They presuppose no return debt and demand none. That is what surrender, after all, means. I personally may hope for respect in return, perhaps, but if it isn't there, it isn't there. Family is under no obligation; one just loves them. That's why it's family. Comes part and parcel with the "i" thing.

The way in may not even have much to do with how much I like the people who belong, or how much they like me. Once they are in, they are in (as long as they do not deliberately break faith with me, and even then not until I as a whole have been broken in the process). As for liking, there are many, many more people than these that I genuinely like, respect, and trust as friends or friendly acquaintances of the same country of spirit.

In between these two, firmly inside my heart and close to the gate of the soulname, stands a group of people, perhaps three or four times as many as the closest family; more distant in relation but still of my soul and my breath and my essence, to whose need of me I will gladly answer to my best faith, strength and ability, should they so ask. Some of them may actually belong beyond that last gate, but some test of truth that would reveal it to me is still to happen (no, not a test of them; of me and my heartstone and my surrender; are you beginning to see now?).

Strangely enough, this extended part of the family includes the people who cause me pain most frequently: those whom I care about sharply and deeply, but with whom I have, for one reason or another, lost the signal, missed the connection, don't know how to get it back... and I miss them dreadfully. But among them stand so many who give me comfort and energy and joy right now, or always when we meet, or simply by existing. Inka stands there, with a hesitant half-smile on her face, and Antti, and Dugi: pillars of strength. Mike is there, and Irrette, and Tiia, and Clo-Päivi. Ari just made his noisy way there, and I can see Anu coming down the hill. Heidi and Taika have climbed into a tree, calling with bright bird voices. Susi is lounging at the root of another. Merten and Mikki are sitting on a bench together, half nonchalant and half embarrassed, trying to look like they're just passing by, while Ebu wanders around, bemused. Jatuli glances back lazily from a grassy field. Spider looks doubtful about her place. Suvi is definitely there, surprising as it may be to some, and she stands very close to the inner gate. I know that though I cannot see them right now, Ripa and Dare and Kaisa and Jaakko and Miliza (how I miss her) and even Lea and jhi are there right behind the tree, the corner, the bend of the path... and I wish, oh, I wish... And others not named in these examples - those of the Old Guard, and of the Old Home, and more.

But of whom is there no doubt, no measure at all? To whose need of me, besides my birth-family, am I bound to answer beyond any strength or weakness or pain up to and including death (and, in some cases, life)?

Tommi. Anni. Kalle. Paula. Lissu. Jukka. Topi and Heli (together or separately, though you so easily come in the same thought now). Jori. Lin, for the part, again and again, in the gift of my life. Moira. Nina, if the earth allows. Kaarina. Milla (surprised? but oaths are not nullified by pain or anger or even dismissal). A Certain Someone, whom I will not name without permission even here. And now Heli.

For the need of these, to fire and water and abyss, will they nil they. For memory, for reality; for truth, for dream; for pain, for love, my blood and my breath and my heart.

So help me God. :)

Time to sleep, and to be busy again tomorrow. The dizziness has mostly passed after a reasonable night's sleep, and a night walk with the dog before it, at dog's hour. We passed through the darkest night and the first mists that shrieked and swirled in their cold joy of cruelty, under waning summer stars and the fairytale moon jealously cradling its dark twin; through ripening grasses and darkening flowers, their species and sorts too innumerable to list (and so to have power over them and all forces of life); through the faerie circles on top of that hill-that-is-neither- here-nor-there, to stand there in the circle at the exact hour of the dog, in the between-time of the northern summer night and morning, between sleeping and waking. There was a planet pulsing low in the southern sky: Mars, I think. The cirrus clouds on both sides of the sun's hiding place looked like wavelines in the sand, and brough memories of other sunrises. A pale purple haze reflected off the highest floors of a single apartment building visible among the thick firs reaching up towards the incestuous moon; the windows of the building looked oddly blind, as they didn't catch any actual light and therefore reflected none back. When the light slowly grew, the shoulders of other buildings emerged from the forest exactly like slowly awakening, slowly approaching giants, with tiny, angular heads on top. And when the dog's hour was over, and the world was still what it was, and Narnia's lamp had stayed unlit and hidden, we came back (me a little wistfully, the dog not giving a whit about the elusiveness of enchantment and instead huffing and puffing for not being allowed to chase gamewrens). And slept beautifully (at least I did, dunno about the dog).

Today's dance practice didn't go badly: the girl's group dance is starting to show its possibilities for effect. However, we didn't get it as finished as I had hoped for... and due to scheduling conflicts, we haven't even begun the teaching of the duet! Hopefully, this may be corrected tomorrow night.

Around noon I must adventure to Järvenpää to deliver a costume. I hope it fits. It's a lovely fabric - heavy linen mix with a nice weave and wonderful "hang", in deep cream. The dress itself is very simple - loosely form-fitting, wide hemline, long sleeves, fabric lacing at the back. Here's to hoping the new owner is happy with it.

Took half a sleeping pill so as not to get distracted and put sleeping off again and again. Loving the feeling of actually being pushed and pulled down, down, knowing that soon I will be knocked out with no fuss and worry at all... I can easily see how an insomniac might get dependent on this reassuring certainty, considering how awful and confused and nasty the state of continous sleep deprivation really is. I experienced glimpses of it during the past four days, and it was really, really irritating. (Even more irritating was not being able to go to classes... but that will hopefully be fixed tomorrow.)

Which, oh bloody hell, I seem to have double-booked again. Some more phonecalls to make tomorrow...

Oh, yes: a few more exchanges with the Anonymous One. She promised not to misuse my trust on that long mail I wrote without having taken control of what I was going to say and how best say it. However, she still has not told me her name. Now, good lady, I waited to see what you would do after I emphasized that I did not appreciate that choice, but you said you are still too scared. So let me tell you another truth: it was not difficult to figure out who you are, with the knowledge you had stated, my own general knowledge of the area where our lives sometimes intersect, and some logical thinking in bed late last night. I hope this makes the fear unnecessary. It's not that big a deal, honestly.

What am I going to do about it? Nothing; why on earth should I do anything? Now I myself simply have a clearer picture, after having been baffled about a lot of things, mostly in how to respond. But at least now I have a basis of information in order to understand your possible reactions both in mail and in actual life.

'k, the sleeping pill just switched me off...

23 July 03: Repeat: "Contact, Reason... Lost, Lost, Lost..."

Still haven't slept enough, but a bit better.

There's a thunderstorm out there, sharp, loud, angry - not just deep, discontented rumbling. I'm trying to decided whether this is apt or not.

I got the strangest email today, and I have a hard time figuring out how I feel about it. I suppose my first, spur-of-the-moment answer was strongly affected by these mixed feelings... I suspect my tone was not as kind as it could have been. But I have to think about this.

Apropos mail, Sunpoint seems to be working again and has been dumping all the mail from the past five days on me in no order at all. I have no idea whether it really does include all of it; I still suspect not. So, do use the svaha@iki.fi address when emailing me from now on, okay? I'm still ironing out the kinks of using killeri.net's mail programs (or - naturally - pointing out where they are and lookind at Kalle pleadingly...), but it's better to know that information is moving, even if it still moves ungracefully.

Yesterday? Yeah, I feel a bit more controlled again. Still, all the feelings of despair and self-hate were and are real and acute, so no censoring, no matter how pitiful they seemed. (And just so if you didn't notice: yes, I was crying and hysterical; no, that stuff was not written in a state of calm consideration. But I've got a grip on my behaviour again.)

(Later) ...Not that it helps at all.

Today, I got one of the greatest compliments I have ever received: Moira, who is a darling and much loved, told me that I have integrity (exactly that word, in English). Integrity. I could only cry, since that is precisely the thing I aspire to most - I am not naturally good and kind-natured, only overly empathic and overly emotional - so all I could ever do is to aspire towards integrity: that no matter how I feel, the way I act would adhere to the code of honour, fairness and honesty that I have tried to set to myself. Though I know it doesn't always do that, no matter how much I try.

Integrity. And a brilliant, sane, productive, strong, honest person tells me that I have it. What can you do but cry about that?

And yet I feel it is that possible integrity, or at least its twisted twin, that has again, today, picked me up and snapped me in two. Something happened... something that was not fair, not fair, and I had no right to react at all, as it was only in my mind that it was unfair or painful, and even then, the pain was so great because it flashed back the greatest old pain of all - the time when I bent and broke and learned absolute loss of self-worth and almost absolute hate. Six years ago. Then five. Then four. And then, finally, over.

And I saw how nothing has changed from that time six years ago, after all. I can still be crushed by a single image; a single comparison. I can still be shown that I have no worth at all, no matter the integrity or the passion or the dedication or the loyalty or even the sometimes-working words, if I don't look like a fragile elf. Literally. I can still remember the single person who was my death - who had actually been made my death, even if out of ignorance and misunderstanding - as someone else was my life. And her image can still break me, even if now, these days, as an actual person she is my friend, and dear to me. And so it does.

Why that? Why that, today, on top of everything else? Please, why?

I don't even know if I want to die anymore or not. All I can do is cry.

(In the evening) And now regret hit. I should not write about this stuff here - or even if I should, at least I shouldn't rant - since people don't like to be around people who are miserable and needy and weepy.

(Night) Ouch. I want to get better. NOW. I've let far too many things out of my mouth without thinking them through for myself first - or, to be more exact, written down thoughts into mail without writing them for myself first. And since I'm still at the tryout stage with my email programs at killeri.net, there's something wrong with my "sent" file, and I can't read it. Now is the time to run in circles and squeal (as opposed to lying on the floor and howling like a child).

I ranted at Kalle when he got home, and he listened as patiently as always. It didn't stop me from ranting my heart out in that blasted mail. And it was to someone who didn't even have the courage to tell me their name. They didn't trust me that much, and now I've put even more trust of my own in their unidentified hands. Not that I said anything I could not say anywhere (except for certain names, which I've said I'm not going to put down here out of respect for the owners of the names), but I was very upset when I wrote the mail and may have said things in a way I should not have preferred, had I thought longer or been less upset.

So, you there! Yes, lady, you. Please keep my trust, even if you feel I didn't keep my cool.

The tears I've shed today would have been enough to water the whole garden that Inka's so patiently bringing back to bloom. I suppose it's clear to everyone but me that I should not let myself run out of my mood medication like this - not at this time and stage, the way this summer's been.

(What? Oh, last Wednesday, if I remember correctly. Yeah, well, it's the money thingy, you see... Oh, any day now...)

22 July 03: Contact, Reason, Lost

I've switched my svaha@iki.fi address into killeri.net, so mail to that address should come through now. Also, I called the sunpoint helpdesk number (1,83e/min just to rant at them??? I was and am that angry), and they managed to say yes to my question of a general problem before my phone died out, so I suppose I will get all those missing emails from these past days once they manage to solve whatever the problem is. Not that I'm holding my breath for it being any time soon... And I can't see why they won't inform people of such problems on their customer frontpage!

Slept only a couple of hours last night as well. Still feeling dizzy, now added nausea and mood swings to the list. Feeling beaten, desperate, unhappy, lonely and, and... I don't know. Just a sack of broken glass, smashed innards and tears.

...Today's - this week's; this year's - quote: "Love is not a word, it's a sentence." Note the double meaning. This is my life. My death. My everything.

...The absolute worst thing about this is that I was just starting to get myself off my ass and exercising and actually losing weight, and now I am too tired to move and eat all the time to try and have energy for something at least - and nothing healthy. I'm getting all that fat back, and it really, truly makes me so ashamed and self-hating that I want to die.

...Because A Certain Someone will never, ever fuck me again if I can't make myself looking fuckable - he has no other reason to, after all. Real caring I will never get from him; he finds me too troublesome and difficult and clingy and emotional and weird and old; so I'd settle for the occasional meaningless shag. No, of course I wouldn't, not really, but neither could he ever learn to see me in a better light despite all those things - or even forgive me for loving him and at least respect me again - if I can't even look nice enough to be worthy of a positive attention; to be someone he doesn't have to be ashamed of as a hangaround of his.

This is what I feel and think most of the time, under and at the back of everything. This is what I live with. And now I'm again, after a while of presenting a brave face, too tired to hide anything.

Sorry about this.

I'm in an Azkaban of love and rejection and self-hate and humiliation that strips me of every single illusion both inwards and outwards.

AND DON'T FUCKING TRY AND CONSOLE ME WITH EXPRESSIONS OF FRIENDSHIP AND SYMPATHY NOW!! THOSE WON'T HELP WHEN MY SENTENCE IS THAT NO-ONE CAN LOVE ME.

Just go away. Sorry about this.

...I took half a sleeping pill to force me to sleep to get over the hysteria this time. It's not a solution to the problem, I know - but it stops, or at least delays indefinitely, the loss of control on my behaviour. I have to get up in the evening anyway, to go and meet Tiuku to talk about the con costume show.

21 July 03: Angry Day

Been pretty negative all day. Woke up after irritable sleep an ugly dreams around one pm and noticed that the dizziness was still there. All day, my inner ear has been shot to hell. Tried to read my email only to notice that none of my mails are coming through any more (I knew I should have received answers to a few things). Lounged around, irritated and weak, started to test mail program options in killeri.net; will definitely transfer ASAP. Got to town ostensibly to meet a friend who wanted to ask my advice on something; upon meeting him, to my horror was introduced to a friend (?) of his who tried to recruit me for a pyramid marketing scheme.

Now, if you haven't realized it already, there are not many things on this Earth that I loathe more than the thought of having to sell or promote something, anything - thing, idea, whatever, it doesn't matter, I never ever ever want to have anything to do with marketing. It is difficult for me even to recommend something I myself am interested in or voluntarily working for. To try and sell something that will result in material gain for myself... horror. No, I do not think the profession of a salesman is morally corrupt or anything. It's fine for a lot of people, but I am not and never will be one of them.

Was saved by Riitta's phonecall: she asked if I was coming to the Ropecon show meeting in process right then. No, her email had not come through either. Left in a really foul mood; calmed down a little by the time I got to the meeting. It ran in a leisurely constructive mood and ended up being quite productive. Still, several small causes of irritation came up, and again, I grew generally angry (not at any of the people present, no). I got a ride home with Ego, who made me tell him everything I remembered about all the Ropecons I've attended for the retrospective, but I couldn't remember anything interesting, and barely could remember any details at all. After Ego left, I got to the computer only to find that no mail had gotten through even now. And I'm still dizzy.

I'm really, really pissed off right now. Not only at the mail system, but at several people separately, the male sex in general, and all of humankind as a species. I've written two perfectly pithy emails that really should have been left unsent; unfortunately, mail does go out, it just doesn't come in. My mood is fouled even more by the fact that I couldn't control myself. And tomorrow means a lot of really difficult work that I've been avoiding for months and that is now totally, completely unavoidable.

Everything is ugly, and I'm the ugliest of all. In all possible senses of the word.

(Later) Here I still am, even madder after the obligatory dog hour revelation: I've triple-booked tomorrow evening. Fuckitall.

20 July 03: To Live For, To Die For

Spent Friday busily procrastinating on those sewing projects for people going to Kesäyön Kronikat II, into which I had also agreed to go as a reserve replacement, so guess what happened - or didn't happen - at night? Exactly right. In the morning I drank too much coffee, spewed curses on the sewing machine for breaking the last needle at a critical moment (again), packed far too much reserve clothing and illegal amounts of chiffon and organza with me and, mercifully, got a ride to Luukki from Kalle, the dear person that he is.

Had a surprisingly great time at the game: 160 people in fantasy costumes that mostly were clearly prepared with great care, gorgeous summer weather, a story that ran smoothly enough, lots of props creating an okay atmosphere out of a site that is pretty bland au naturel, and a challenging and interesting character made the experience pretty much what I hope and play for in general. My character was an insane fairy who was reliving the horrors of her past in constant visions and nightmares, as after enough horror already to last most souls a lifetime, she had been killed as a demonic sacrifice; met Ctulhu in death (and you know what that means: irreparable loss of reason); and then been brought back to life. It was pretty hard to create an internal logic for my interpretation in the two hours I had between reading the text (even though Anna's descriptions were very helpful in their vividness, and I thought the history quite nicely constructed in the dramatic sense) and the beginning of the game. I felt rather insecure at several occasions, but in the end, I myself was somewhat satisfied with how it all worked, and other people assured me that it was okay.

Besides, my fellow players really made the game for me, again. I found the overall in-game atmosphere quite delightful. And I am going to go public and say this: I really admired the way Heidi (the original head GM) kept her cool in the pre-game stress at the site (not only was this a big game to run, but everyone else seemed to feel the stress somewhat in excess). My hat to her, certainly!

I also got two more ladies to participate in the Ropecon dance thingy, which was a lifesaver! Now we have all the people we need, and I can even stay off as a reserve.

In the evening, after getting rid of the miles and miles of organza and ropes of costume pearls and messed-up hair additions, I enjoyed a leisurely swim in the blissfully warm water and a sauna, and then some chatting in lovely (and funny) company, but after that, I was pretty much spent up. I was getting close to a hysterical-depressive fit by the time I walked alone to the pier to look at the pale golden half-moon with its double reflections in the water and the far-separated summer stars. However, I managed to shut up, go back up, sit in the kitchen with a mug of tea that had fooled me into thinking it was coffee, and go to bed without making a scene of myself.

In the morning I woke up to all the noise extremely cranky from sleep deprivation, and I have no idea how I would have survived, had Atte not been as good as his word before and come to wake me by announcing that he was giving me a ride home to breakfast soon enough, and had Mika-Matti not brought me some much-needed pre-breakfast energy in the form of an energy bar (he'd promised, also). I got home, had brunch (well... something caloric to eat, anyway) and two mugs of coffee to try and rid myself of the dizziness that now seems to be an inevitable result of a sleep deprivation of ten hours plus, missed the bus that would have taken me to the 'con dance practice only ten minutes late, and sorely considered cancelling. Managed not to give in to temptation; got there forty-five minutes late. Explained a lot of stuff to the lovely new people, went through the mimed parts several times, mixing the CD player buttons several times in succession and in general being about as reasonable as my character had been in the game. Afterwards, went with Samu to Wolven's place to hang out with parts of the Posse and watch them playing Middle-Earth Risk while eating strawberries and ice cream. Got a ride home with Jaakko. Now in a state of temporarily arrested collapse.

Not a bad weekend at all - not counting my stubborn (and STUPID) inability to learn time management! I am not even going to go into deeper feelings now, as there is far too much pain, disappointment and oddly detached observations on other matters besides those familiar states... at least for now. Perhaps after some proper sleep. And, after all, I only had two moments of really awful despair, and one dumb but in the end harmless decision based on silly pride.

As I remarked to Samu on the way (we had quite an interesting and enlightening little conversation), increased self-control has brought with it not only the tendency to judge other people more harshly and to carry grudges (which I never did as a child), but also this idiotic pride to never, ever, ever let other people see me make choices for stupid reasons. None of these is a good thing. Pride, after all, is a deadly sin, and so in a sense (a New Testament sense) is grudge-carrying - not to mention judging others!

But I'll get back to this after a good night's sleep. You know I am not at all reliable with my feelings when tired. At the moment... let's just say I can't decide whether my overall state is that of the swamp of self-pity or the tundra of sharp injured anger.

(Somewhat later, after opening my mouth in strange new places instead of doing the wise thing and going to sleep) Just had to say something in Heidi's guest book to argue against her feelings that the game was terrible (as it most certainly was not), and now I'm really afraid I'll be misunderstood in several ways and in several places. I'll just go and sit in a corner and try to reassure myself that it bloody well doesn't matter what people think, if I say what I think and feel in good faith and truth. I can't control the thoughts of others; all I can is do and say what I consider worth doing and saying.

But still, eep...

17 July 03: Too Much Jumping Up And Down

Ran four hours of dance practice. Exhausted. Outer thigh muscles screaming even after sauna. Must sleep.

I just hope we get this thing together, as we never manage to get everyone there at the same time...

But the other thing for the con gala moved forward a lot today! Yay!

Hurts, hurts, hurts. Another headache, too. Must sleep.

Had sci-fi-superpower-Buffy-dreams last night. Long and detailed. Can't remember ever having dreamed of being on another planet before. Yeah, well, the Star Wars dreams of those crazy teenage years, but they never felt like being on another planet.

16 July 03: Interactive

Got up in the afternoon (it seems I had more sleep in store than I thought) after even more confusing and detailed dreams than usual... a disturbing faery mystery that turned into a larp about me having been transported four thousand years into the future (into an age when mankind was dying out and the faeries ruled the world). Noticed having got several phonecalls; no memory of any of them.

Hung out with the Posse at Rax and at Kaisaniemi park for Atte's birthday. Met Anu and came here to have ice cream, strawberries and good conversation. Had far too much coffee at both events. Now in splitting headache.

Anu and I agreed that we have to have a coffee at least once a week from now on. There are far too few people with whom one can just hang out, still knowing the other feels almost exactly the same way about everything encountered or discussed while hanging out... far too few friends of my own age and phase.

The days may be painfully hot right now, but the nights are perfect. There's a butter-yellow, aging moon low in the sky, which is exactly the colour of a ripe, frosty blueberry, and the temperature is just right - warm, but softly cool enough compared to the day.

Tomorrow, busy sewing (got another order for next weekend), then to dance practice.

15 July 03: Blessed, Blessed Ballet

Went to class today. Feeling fantastic, now that I'm back home and not walking around in sweat on high-heeled shoes that gave me eight blisters just by an ordinary day of going to town and hanging out with Irrette, then going to class and then home. I probably won't be able to get out of bed tomorrow morning, but it was worth it. Boy, was it worth it! Ballet is and always has been a form of meditation to me; the only form that I've found to work. WHen in class, nothing else matters.

Janka commented very kindly on my performance and my hair, and now I'm feeling all self-satisfied... (Well, not really, of course not.) But yes, it was absolutely wonderful, and I will have to find a way to continue after the gift lessons.

Apropos the hair, I did get at least three compliments on my appearance from strangers on the street - and none of them were too rude either. I am not used to stuff like this. It's strange and interesting and not altogether simple nor altogether positive (despite the lack of rudeness). I also dared to wear a shirt that revealed occasional glimpses of my waist, and I think this must be considered the biggest sort of a landmark. No, my waist is not yet thin and smooth - but I did it, and I looked okay.

The smooth line is on the program soon.

I'm pretty much exhausted, even though it's not yet even midnight. This is also very much a good thing.

I read the new book in the classic Selja series this morning, between coming home from seeing Paula off to her train and starting for that lunch with Irrette. It made me cry and also think about politics, which is also strange and interesting and difficult and not all positive... but more on that after I have managed to get some results of the thought processes.

How wonderful it is to know that you will be able to fall asleep quickly and sweetly...

14 July 03: Many Meetings

Everybody's complaining of the heat. I don't really mind - warm is always infinitely better than cold, and this way even the nights stay warm. And it keeps thoughts of food away, and is kind to my poor old muscles when stretching.

We'll see how I feel about the temperature after tomorrow's ballet lesson. I went to check on the level of classes today and decided to take the intermediate 1, at least for this week. I'll switch to the more advanced class later, when my general condition improves enough.

I am still completely amazed and excited about the gift of lessons.

The only problem with that is, one starts wanting more... Mom brought me flamenco shoes from Spain; she and Olli came by today and gave me them and a beautifully simple, stylish black fan. The shoes fit perfectly, and I so want to go to the sevillanas course Tanssiopisto has... on the week before Ropecon. *deep sigh*. I don't think it's going to happen, but one can dream...

Now I'm at Paula's place, staying over after my first ever nyckelharpa lesson! It was fun, and I'm definitely going to learn to play it properly! Paula is leaving for Kuopio early tomorrow morning, and I'll help her take all her stuff to the railway station. Then it's off home to get dance clothes, do some sewing and back to meet Irrette for lunch.

Jukka also dropped by earlier in the afternoon to negotiate on a costume I'm making him for ROpecon. It's a bit more complicated and differently styled from what I'm used to working on, but I'll give it my best shot. He also finally told me - belatedly, as the results were out on Wednesday - the happy news that he got into the Medical Studies program at HU on this, his first try. I am so happy for him; he worked really hard for it all spring!

TIme to let Paula back on the computer.

And yes, it is hot.

13 July 03: Busy Day

Exhausted, but for once in a good way. Ran long dance practice that did not accomplish as much as I had hoped, but was acceptable. Then went over to Qttiland to continue "Lost Ones". We had a very unusual session for our part of the long campaign: we fought. Well, my witch character did not fight, but helped others by confusing the enemy in the middle of the fight. I had a passable luck with my dice throws and actually even saved the life (or un-life) of our champion, an old vampire who styles himself as a rock star and likes to hang out with weird people, such as our mage characters. At least, I think I saved his life. I was really glad I fought through a beginning headache with the help of a Bura-Caps, so we could continue until after the fight was over.

Also, I played around with the Everway cards again, and my choices were very different from what they were in February (or was it March?). I picked quite many cards, and the final results were much more outreaching and energetic than they were then. The most dominant themes were a desire for and delight in stories, and a willingness to enjoy (and even pride in) the ability to have many faces, in LARPS. There were also cards that represented or reminded me of friends in themselves, and that, too, was new - that I have become outgoing enough to think of other things besides what is going on inside my own head.

It was oddly enlightening, considering that I haven't been in the best of shapes in the past week or so. I didn't realize that some things had changed so clearly anyway. I thought about this on the way home and concluded that what has changed most is my trust in other people. I now believe it is possible for people to like me and to want to spend time in my company. That is surely a healthy sign, no?

Bed calls, and Charles deLint. Borrowed some more from Heli.

12 July 03: I Cannot Breathe

Nice birthday party, just the kind I wanted: nice people, talking, comfort, and Lissu stayed over (I really needed someone to keep me grounded when exhaustion surged high between sauna and sleep). I was overwhelmed by the generosity and thoughtfulness of the gifts I got. Kalle, Meira, Vera, Irrette and Anu even gave me a gift voucher for dance lessons at Tanssiopisto! I also got some welcome addition (Dido) to my music collection from Jukka and Visa, and I now own number one in the A.Tolvanen line of handcrafted dolls of Ancient Finnish life, Soila of Viitaila. Too much chocolate cake and Scrabble (I sucked at it), too little time to give to individual people, but all in all, I am happy.

And then again, I am coming apart at the seams. But that is another matter, another world and another truth, and I don't want to talk about it right now. I'll go to sleep and hope that I'm just tired, like so often, and that tomorrow I can appreciate all those friends enough to like life again, at least a little bit.

Today, I've simply been tired from yesterday's social interaction, lazing around with a couple of people and some more Robin of Sherwood. I'm trying to give myself time and mercy enough to just stick to it until another tomorrow. Not that it will necessarily be any easier. But at least it's not this pain, here and now. It may even be different.

I don't know. I'm still here, and I'm still useless. We'll check again tomorrow, once more.

10 July 03: Opposing Forces

Today's dance practice was better than I expected - we actually got things moving forward, and I don't feel too hopeless about people learning their stuff now... nor about my own creativity, which is really, really weird.

On the other hand, I'm terrified about the amount of cleaning we have to do for tomorrow - haven't even started yet. And, even worse, A Certain Someone announced that he was not taking part in a shared project that he had agreed to, earlier.

I should learn better by now. I should. I should be able to put this behind me. I should know what hurts me and get away from such. I should not let those things, those people, to rule me and drive me to dead ends.

And yet... there are razors on my table, put aside for now, but waiting. That is the amount of the pain and the despair and the paralysis for today. I am stupid and I can't move on. So what is there to do? Not much.

I'll probably not be very energetic tomorrow, so I can only hope my guests won't expect me to act as a social hostess, even though they don't all know each other. I just want to sit down and listen to people talk, and smile in my direction every now and then.

The knowledge of the razors is oddly comforting. That if it gets to be too much, they are there. (No, the "it" in this case is not the party, just life unmoving in general, and love stunted and twisted by stone.)

P.S. Sunpoint has been down all evening, so I haven't seen my mail since 3pm, and a lot of my mail has been delayed up to two days in some cases. I don't think I've even received everything I should have. Just to let you know.

P.S.2. At the dreaded hour of 3am, I read something I wrote only two weeks ago and regretfully realised I was wrong then. It seems heartbreak is not ruled out as a reason, after all. Yes, I hoped to be stronger... I know I did... but I don't think my heart has any shields after all. They just seem not to stick to its cracked surface. And so, everything else is still tied to its breaking or not - wisdom, hope, ethics, friendship, none of these is enough to float me if my heart sinks to the depths for good.

We'll have to see. As always, one minute at a time, we'll have to tread water and see.

09 July 03: Back In Panic

I've asked and received pardon. Don't feel any better though.

Everything is misery and fear again, and the Eating Thing is having a blast.

I don't think it is worth the bother to write about my past. I notice all I remember are people, not interesting events or images. This was a surprise to me, and it doesn't make for good reading.

I don't want it to be tomorrow. I don't want it to be anything.

08 July 03: "And It's No Sacrifice, No Sacrifice At All..."

Well, well. That was about the stupidest thing I could do. Even more stupid than Saturday. But I simply reached the end of my endurance.

I'm not glad to find that end in this particular case. I hoped I would have more in me than this. I'm disappointed in myself.

And angry and hurt and so stupid, stupid, stupid.

Excuse me, I'll go and try to have a good cry now. It may take some effort; I don't seem to be good at crying these days. I just turn to stone.

(Later) So what did I do that was so dumb?

I picked a fight with A Certain Someone. It's never a good move - it's not like he needs to be nice to me or cut me any slack. Now I feel doubly awful, and I'm out of the shared project, too.

And I can't even be sorry, at least not yet, because I am still angry at him.

And I can even admit that much of what I said was more my problem than his, or anyone else's. That I overreacted to certain things. That mostly, I got mad unfairly. But... still angry and hurt.

I hate everything.

So as not to be a complete waste: today, the 8th, is the birthday of one of my classmates in Junior High, Heidi S. We always joked about having a birthday party together... but in the end, we never ever did. Heidi used to have hair that made her look like Sergeant Makepeace of the nostalgic British series of the 80's, "Dempsey & Makepeace" (it was one of our favourites). She was a sweet girl, even though we were never very close friends. I saw her a couple of times after she became an optician and came to work in a shop in the city. The last time I went to ask after her, she was on maternity leave. I wonder if she's back to work by now?

I find it so funny that other people my age and even younger have been having children and living a family life for ages. I still don't feel ready for that... and in any case, I would not have children until I was certified not to be depressed any more. Provided there was anyone to have children with. But others... it occurred to me one day that the children of a couple that used to be family of friends (and nearly friends of mine, too) are now in high school.

And that I meet a lot of young people in larps that are not even half my age.

I just don't feel that old. Adult, yes, but not that adult.

07 July 03: Time And Time Again

So. To quote Pratchett, the bitch is... older.

This was not a bad birthday, as days go. I spent most of it in the company of a very handsome and sweet boy (far too young for me, but pleasant company and a potential friend nevertheless; besides, he flattered me shamelessly). We walked on the river, had cola in that nice little cafe and watermelon and ice cream when we got to our place, talked a lot and watched Robin of Sherwood. It's so surprising to have friends like that - so different from what I myself am - and I often find myself doubting if I can give them anything for their friendship... but I try not to worry about it too much.

Lin gave me the most beautiful graphic print, with a Chinese poem about the phoenix, and appropriate illustration. It's on my wall even now, though I want to get a frame for it ASAP. It's lovely, and such a thoughtful gift.

I wrote to Nina yesterday. I hope it got through, but I haven't heard back from her yet.

I'm having a small-ish birthday party on Friday the 11th, here at home. The theme is, appropriately enough, "I'm Still Here", so I am only inviting people who have, in one sense or another, been involved with my depression in the past year or so. If you are a regular reader of my diary, this includes you. Yes, you. If you have not yet received a text message or email invitation from me, you are still invited. If you are an old friend, it's probably just my addled brain getting more and more geriatric, and if you are not, surprise me and come anyway. Just drop me a line to let me know you are coming. Chocolate cake and punch available from 7pm onwards; sauna in the evening.

(Just to be sure: this is not a huge communal party where the party is the main thing. This is my opportunity to celebrate the fragile threads of connection that I've had, and sometimes even made, and that have kept me in contact with life. If you want to see me, I want to see you. Talking will certainly be in order; dancing will be optional.)

All this provided, of course, that I am still here by then.

Sorry, sorry, that actually was a joke... Please excuse my morbid sense of humour - it's one of the things that has kept me going.

06 July 03: Smashed, Squashed

Stupid me.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

It just won't stop getting worse, will it?

(Later) At some stage you just go numb. The world shrinks into steps from one moment to another: either you live or not, and every new moment when you live should be a surprise but is just another step to the next choice. It's like one of those diagrams that are supposed to help you into decisions, except it keeps repeating the same division again and again.

Either you live or not.

And you don't much think about it at all, you just go on. And the moments and the choices slip by, and you can't be bothered, though you'd like to.

Nothing has meaning any more. Not pain, not joy, not anticipation, not endeavor. Not even books or movies. And the lack of meaning itself is a cause of anger and shame.

And all you think is that this is not enough of a meaning for one life, but that there is no more forthcoming, and it feels terribly unfair, somewhere far away beyond the numbness.

And words are lost to you as well, having as little meaning as everything else.

05 July 03: Exasperated

I. Hate. My. Life.

All of it.

Well, not the parts of sitting down and having a cola with Lissu at the lovely little cafe on the river, or of having strawberries and cider in the sun at the back yard, or of watching classical Sherlock Holmes... But the rest of it, oh definitely. And the pain colours even those times, after.

The yearning doesn't stop, doesn't ease, doesn't get any more acceptable or mutual, and I want to die.

04 July 03: Looking For Subject Lines

I seem to have slipped from the decision to try and be concise... didn't even notice the lack of subjects until today.

Anyway, another round of blonding helped only minimally. That auburn is glued to my hair. It lightened a bit, though, so now I can probably appear in public without having to hide my head in a paper bag. I'll see about that red mousse colour tomorrow, or something. I need to surprise Lissu before that. :)

...Met Paula for coffee and then Lissu for shopping and dinner a little later. Both squealed over my hair enthusiastically, though I'm still not quite sure whether they were not mostly being polite... (I know, I know, I probably owe both an apology for that...) We went to see Charlie's Angels 2 and giggled all the way through. It was so much simple fun! Now I can't decide if I want to be Lucy Liu or Demi Moore (boy, was I surprised at how hot she was in it!) when I grow up, and Lissu is wavering between Cameron Diaz and Drew Barrymore.

I'm sort of leaning towards Demi Moore. She was grown-up and still gorgeous, and it took three younger Angels to beat her. I think there's a badge there somewhere just for me.

I felt very self-conscious about my hair and my whole look out there today. Dark hair is... safer, somehow. It doesn't necessarily look done. The blonde (as it is easy to see it's coloured) screams: "Look at me!" so the rest of me should measure up to that, and I don't feel it does.

I still kind of like the hair in itself.

This is the most radical change in hairstyle I've ever had. The second most radical must have been the time when I had it cut altogether short during the summer when I turned ten. It's the only time in my life I've voluntarily had it cut so much; and the only time when it's been as short as a boy's. There's a story behind that, too. I was always big on playacting famous heroes or book characters (and later, original characters, too - I was a child much longer than most, at least these days), and when spending summer vacations at my cousins in Kangasniemi, our favourite was the Famous Five. Nanne and I always competed over which one got to be George (she was the cool one, of course), and that summer, Nanne had a distinct advantage, as her hair was short. So I decided I wanted it short, too, in which case I would gain the lead, as I was brunette and she was blonde. Dad cut it personally (he said he used to barber all of his house in the army), and then it was short, and the life-threatening matter of Famous Five identity was solved.

That was the summer when we went to northern Norway by car and trailer. There are pictures of that trip where it's difficult to tell Petri and me apart, though we have three years between us: both had short hair, both wore T-shirts and shorts, and we were almost as tall by then, too.

Norway was beautiful, and it's the only time in my life when I've visited Lapland, on either side of the border.

(Later) Another bad night. Won't this ever stop?

03 July 03

Eeeep...

So it's happened. I'm blonde. *Incoherent yelps.* Actually, this was not even in the plan: I just wanted to get rid of the old black colour that was stuck to the ends of my hair like tar, so I bought something that said it was for the purpose of removing old colour. What it did was to turn my natural colour at the roots completely blonde, but leave enough of that stupid black-and-mahogany (that was not even permanent!!) that I now look like someone naturally baby-blonde who coloured their hair reddish brown months ago. Oh well, back to the store for another bleach bottle, then, I suppose.

I look like Draco Malfoy. Ugh.

Had to cancel today's dance practice because so many people had other business. Considered briefly going to the connittee meeting, but as Riitta (who holds responsibility for the whole gala evening) was not going, I sure as anything was not going to be the butt of Pervilä's dissatisfied ranting.

There's something wrong with my email service. People tell me they get notices that the mail is not going through; in the end I do get it, but hours or even days delayed.

I have nothing to do for the weekend, now that I'm not going to Estonia. Can't even join the trip to Eura for the Ancient Finnish event, as I have to be back early on Sunday for the dance practice. Much pouting and bitching to ensue.

02 July 03

Slept over appointments today, for which woe and irritation. Had Dreams again, though. Why is it that even though my dreams are generally not that nice (though only rarely true nightmares like the night before), every time A Certain Someone appears in them, it is in ways too good to hope for? It messes up all my day. I haven't even been able to keep up my concentration on the Harry Potter because of thoughts of things that are impossible and that I should just put out of my head so as not to make everything complicated and myself miserable once more.

Not feeling too well. Eaten too much for the past couple of days; not danced. Bad.

Oh well, back to book. If I finish it today, Lin may be able to read it too before I have to return it to Lissu.

(Later) Done. I don't see what the fuss in the hard-fandom core was - I think it is a natural and fitting next chapter in the direction in which she has been taking the story for a while now. I think everyone behaved quite according to character. I didn't see it as unnecessarily bleak at all - I thought the end part of The Goblet of Fire was much more horrible. (Actually - dare I say it - I think fan fiction has coloured the expectations of the fandom in rather odd ways.)

I wrote a couple of answers to letters. I want to remind anyone who still has not received an answer from me that I am abominably bad at letters; I suck vacuum at smalltalk; and I have about as little idea of how to get to know people as a Flobberworm. This does not mean that my heart is not warmed over each and every thought sent to me; or that I don't want to get to know you. It's just that the Desert is a long distance to reach a hand over, and I often forget how the trick is done.

But I do care.

It's funny how difficult it is to remember people one has once known, and known well. One day, I was trying to remember which summer it was that we (me, and in a surprising amount, my brother, who after all was just a pre-schooler then) spent mostly in the company of Seija K., who lived along the village main street in a house with a pretty garden and a basement we were no allowed into (I wonder how many hours we spent sitting on the top step of the basement stairs simply because it was absolutely magical for being forbidden?). It was either the summer of my eighth birthday or the ninth, but I can't for the life of me remember which. Seija was thin and had a dark bob and olive skin (rare for a Finnish child). I remember we went back and forth between her house and the old apartment building next to the Lower school that we lived in, on bicycles, but I can't remember what we talked about or played at. It was only that one summer that we were close friends... my friendships used to change a lot in primary school, and I never really had a true best friend. Everybody was always someone else's best friend, not mine.

I remember Seija and my brother had a private joke about something having to do with our aquarium - probably something stupid they'd done, but I never found out, and they only referred to it with the letter "P". It used to irritate me no end, and it may be that I got mad at her for sharing a secret with my little brother and not me, and that ended our closeness.

I wonder where she is now, or any of my primary school classmates? I only know of two of them; one who became a Maths teacher (after her father, who was also the headmaster of the local Junior High), and one who most probably became a translator; at least that is what she was studying for. I could not find any of them at classmates.com.

Oh yeah, and I still don't particularly like life, and even more particularly don't like still being unhappily and stupidly in love.

01 July 03

I know, I've been hideously non-communicative, and I'll continue to be so for a day or two, since I got my hands on the new Harry Potter (thank you, Lissu, for the gracious loan even before you've read it yourself!).

I also borrowed a pile of classic SF from Ebu, but those books will probably give me time to breathe and type every once in a while.

So, a super-quick update. Thursday: finished Aarne's costume in time. Friday: spent evening with Topi and Heli, watching Robin of Sherwood and eating ice cream; spent night sewing, ostensibly only to tweak an old costume a bit but actually taking it apart and building it anew from scratch. No sleep, but got costume finished before starting for the game. Saturday: Eryndia, playing an evil archmage undercover as a member of the uber-good opposite race (and the thing I noticed about my wardrobe before was that I had absolutely no clothes for an evil archmage - no black cloaks or anything even remotely resembling - so the undercover idea saved me; actually borrowed that huge satin cloak thingy from Lin and carried it with me in a handbag all game!). Had a pretty good time; saw many nice people that can almost be called friends; had something of a heart-to-heart with The (now ex-)Girlfriend (yes, naturally she was ex- already last Monday, or it would not have happened, on either side); was very nasty to someone whom all present agreed deserves it for his behaviour in general and then felt bad about it anyway (why does it have to be me to tell someone they're an asshole??). Sunday: started the Ropecon dance performance practice by being outrageously late, messing up all music etc. but had fun anyway; fell asleep at ten. Monday: met Mom and Petri briefly for lunch at Santa Fe, then went to Linnanmäki with Topi, Heli and Lissu (Ebu joined us later). In the evening, went to watch Gangs of New York with Ebu and Lissu; found it very brutal and somewhat unpleasant all in all. Slept at Lissu's place, with horrible nightmares towards morning (supernatural horror where the story kept repeating itself no matter how much I tried to change it). Today, got home through town and a couple of thrift shops, started the Harry Potter, put it aside to go and see Mom and Olli, ended up having surprisingly frank conversations with them. Came home and promptly fell asleep and was late for picking Lin up from the station.

Now, Harry awaits.