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You can still contact me at svaha@iki.fi |
31 Mar 05: Still Going 'Round the Prickly Pear Still angry and irritated about small things, but a tiny bit more chipper. Tinkered with pages most of today, and wrote a couple of emails. So, sort of moving again, not quite stuck on concrete. Went to Sala to see Lin (and the folks there, of course) on Tuesday. Spent late - and then early - hours there watching Angel season 5. Left after nine am... and have not enjoyed many things in a long time less than that morning obstacle course through normal people going to work and doing other morning business. I felt like an intruder, a pretender, and I wanted to scream and run home and hide under my pillows for the next week. I was not a real person, so I should not show my face among real persons doing the things that made them real... However, managed not to mess up daily cycle completely. Only slightly. Now panicking about the Hucca dance event, as expected. Though, well, worse than expected. Had good talks with Lin, though. Made plans. Feeling rather courageous about them. Am planning to separate books and dreams into their own areas, and start writing proper reviews and proper descriptions. I haven't done that so far because I have an intense dislike of such divisions, no matter that every blogger seems to be using them. As I've often stated, I'm really not in Blogistan at all (possibly in a boat far out to the sea, or something), so I see no reason to start categorising my thoughts into boxes for other people's ready-made snacks, but dreams only interest a few people in general, and book reviews are a real, useful (at least in principle) form of writing. Will work on those; might revive my belief in this thing. Haven't decided language yet. Must. Get. Oneself. Exercising. Perhaps... next week... finally? 27 Mar 05: ...Dunno I woke at Mom's phone call, promised still to get moving even though it was three hours later than I had planned. Got up, still groggy, and spent several hours in an increasingly foul mood, unable to get myself even dressed, far less out of the door. Somewhere along the line, called Mom to try and explain, ended up complaining hard and long about the unfairness of everything and this never-turning slow slide downwards in particular. She listened patiently enough, even when I described the dislike I felt while looking at all those pictures of me she was arranging into a nice album before Christmas - not a dislike of her doing that, surely, but a sudden, irrational anger directed towards that younger me: my younger self's stupidity, timidity, her choices that resulted in this me, in this useless me. She even listened to my illogically nervous ranting about next weekend's dance. And was not pushy at all. So, Mom not always bad. Still, my mood was even more foul after bringing all these issues to the surface. I tried to write an email reply that was reasonably urgent, but the connection kept dropping, and I gave up - which, I decided, was all good, since I was about to put things in ways that I could avoid, given time to cool off. (Note: at this moment the connection dropped, so that was it for that day. I did go to Kerava to eat good food, and I did get myself home the same day, and didn't write any sharp emails.) 28 Mar 05: Light Through the Cracks I don't know what's going on, or if anything is. I've - once again - been listless, useless and in general most-anything-less. I should have gone to Easter dinner at Kerava today; instead I developed another headache and went on to sleep some more. As if I haven't slept enough lately, again. And even dreams... Well, I had these rather cool dreams, but they were so disjointed they gave ample proof to my new understanding of dreams as a quick succession of nonsensical images that my silly mind just desperately tries to string into a coherent story. As you can see, pessimism is the word of the day. Oh, and as I've been too disinterested even in answering my email, this time I also get to use this one: Not Everything Is About You. Occasionally, something is a general musing based on several incidents, you know? Yes, I'm grumpy. I'm terribly unhappy about being this tired, this stagnant, un-living. And I know it's about me, because I've had opportunities to meet friends and have even taken them, and loved the times, and it hasn't helped my general listlessness any. Also, I'm becoming more and more convinced that there's no value in my writing any more. I'm not really ill enough to have interesting symptoms of despair to describe, and I'm clearly not transforming into a general-interest author. And I could not be funny even if the lines were fed into me. Typically, I dreamed (before those cool-if-they-weren't-so- disillusioningly-disjointed dreams) again of suddenly having ended up back in a shared student apartment where I wasn't quite sure if I even belonged, or had money for the rent, and additionally, had to take care of a bunch of homeless cats (with kittens of different ages that were all mixed up), Jero, and a young seal. And I'd forgot to buy food for them. And didn't even have money for it (or anything else for that matter). I was reading this P.D.James book (my first ever, for some reason), in which a character was musing on the "strength and animal beauty of youth", and all I could think of was, "Why is everyone always going on about that? Youth isn't like that at all." And then I thought, maybe it's just been my youth that wasn't like that. And it's not like anyone has cheated me out of it except me, myself. It was a reasonably good modern detective story, by the way. More emphasis on social issues and less on the mystery than I prefer, but I guess I've got really old-fashioned tastes in these issues. Death in Holy Orders is the title. While I was reading I also started to wonder on other modern detective issues, so to speak. I mean, I like watching CSI in both its currently shown incarnations, but is there anywhere that it really works like that? Aren't the lab people actually quite separate - a separate section, even - from the people who take care of the other parts of the investigation; of interrogations and deductions and arrests and other stuff dealing with people? I can't say I have any real information on this, but that's my impression of the real world, anyway. 21 Mar 05: Drifting Thoughts You know... how difficult would it be to say: "I'm sorry for hurting you; it was never my intention"? And why should I forgive people if they can't be bothered to utter that simple a sentence? That's something I just don't get, and don't even see why I should get. I had another of those dreams where I am not quite sure whether I am working at my old school or not, or if I am, when and where I am teaching, and I fear I have already skipped some lessons or even days, and all the time I end up skipping more, not wanting to go and face the already-existing failure... No need for an analyst for that, I just don't know why they've started cropping up only lately. Also, another one where our family has just moved into a big, gorgeous house, but this time it was a grander version of a house we lived in while I was in Junior High (not the one we built after that). Again, there was something altogether silly that caused problems: we had relatives and some (fictional) friends of my parents from the US to visit, and were going to have a sauna evening, but suddenly some thirty live-action games popped in and rushed to fill the small sauna area completely - I had not invited them, and moreover, they had been in a game I had wanted to join as well, but I had never even heard they were having one. But, well, one does not suddenly start screaming at a big group of almost-friends and throw them out, no matter how irritated one feels... And that one needs no analyst either, I think. Can't have a proper life if one is too concerned with other people's opinions, particularly groups (which are always stupider and more prejudiced than individuals anyway). Now I only need to learn that. I finished Aristoi. It was all right, but... I don't know, the utopian society didn't really ring true. I think I detected echoes of Moorcock's Dancers at the End of Time, but this was supposed to be not-so-distant and still plausible. The detective adventure part promised more than it really delivered - somehow its impact was less than all its component parts. It was not a bad book, not at all, but somehow I just expected more. Now for classical conspiracies in Masks of the Illuminati - hee! I did, finally, manage to create that LiveJournal account. In addition to all the other work (on which I keep procrastinating, as usual), I should start figuring out what to wear at the Hucca Spring Ball. Pelageya: Clarissie probably won't be as much of a problem... probably. We'll see. I wish I could afford a perm before P:C... 20 Mar 05: Irritated I've been trying to create a basic LiveJournal all night, for the purpose of being able to comment in some places, but all usernames that I might like and that would not look stupid are taken! So I'm sitting here, gnashing my teeth and trying to exercise the lazy creative cells. So far, no success. Yesterday and today have been completely useless, and moreover, I still start coughing if I go out. Perhaps watching a proper movie or two might kick me back into action. There's a box of Tarantino movies, so I could finally watch both Kill Bills (never seen either), or some eye candy (Banderas in Desperado)... and other things, too. I did try to watch Return of the Jedi last night, but time, prequels and fandom have tarnished my sacred childhood memories too badly. It wasn't fun at all, and now I'm thoroughly disillusioned. I didn't like the long version of ROTK either, so do I now have to come up with a new favourite movie? It's not like either trilogy was that perfect anyway, as far as cinematic art goes, but being a fan was supposed to be enough, and a legitimate reason, to be able to bypass the problems and stay in love. Except it isn't. I guess I could always default back to Ladyhawke. No-one needs any explanation for that: it could only be for sentimental reasons. Or just talk about the current favourite, which has to be Before Sunset (and next year, something else). Oh, and I also noticed another film that happens in Paris and that made a huge impression on me has been released on DVD: Les Amants du Pont-Neuf. Should see it again and see if the magic has stayed with that one. I've been listening to parts of Dido and Aeneas and Parsifal while hemming and hawing with the LiveJournal thing - I'm really glad there is an YLE Teema. (Of course, I could have been a proper little culture-consumer and actually watched the programs, especially since the first one was dance, but for some reason I could not be bothered today; the music has been more important.) (Which reminds me again. Music? Necessary.) 19 Mar 05: ...Into This Bad World? So, why do I want to bring children into the world, considering I have a hard time finding my own life worth living? Well - because even though I may be a pessimist about myself I still, somehow, am an optimist about mankind as a whole. No, there does not seem to be much hope, with all the horrible things there are... but I see some, and it is enough. I believe mankind is still going through elementary growing pains, not even nearly done, and that there is a chance that somewhere in the future it may become something miraculous. And I want to contribute to that hope at least in some way, even if I can't make a difference personally (I would love to be able to do that, but... well, that's really not the main thing; the hope is). But anyway, not yet. Been watching more figure skating, and am very happy about Susanna Pöykiö's eighth place in the women's event. All the events have been of extremely high level and really entertaining to watch, though it is vexing to see that even the new point-based system has not got rid of giving points for fame or lack of it. (Also, even more proud of Johanna Sinisalo's James Tiptree Jr. award and all the praise given to both Sinisalo and Leena Krohn in the international sci fi community lately!) Wondering why sleep has been creeping up on my days again. No reason at all, just... seeming to need twelve hours of sleep. Reading Aristoi by Walter Jon Williams; thinking it's very much a child of its time (1991). More when it's finished. Maybe. Thinking of several friends individually, from time to time (which means, most of the time). 17 Mar 05: ...Even More Nerdish My fannish crush on Vincent Kartheiser waxed intense enough that I dreamed about meeting him last night. Silly, silly me. But since I have no-one real to bring any bling to my days, I guess if a fan crush can do that, it's all to the positive. Otherwise, watching figure skating world championships and hoping for the last dregs of the cough to pass. Searching for a life on the side, too. And still trying to persuade oneself to write essays instead of boring updates. It's funny; I haven't set down even the one fact that I've figured out about my life during the past couple of months, and that I've talked about to friends often enough. It's because it seems like such a hugely defining fact - a stamp hovering above me, ready to label me in a way I'm not ready to accept, even if I can accept the fact. But, after all, actualisation of the fact is still in the future, so... I figured it out slowly enough, and through the negation of the negative, so to speak: I know now that I do want to have children. Or, more exactly, that I definitely, decisively do not want to end up childless. I never was greatly enamoured of children in general, and my biological clock is still pretty much stalled, but as time passes, I've come to realise that there's not so much of it left until it's too late for there to be this option at all. And I feel very strongly that I do not want the option to pass by. However, I have absolutely no intention of having a child until a) I have a regular income again b) I can be pronounced healthily non-depressed c) I have someone to share the responsibility. Still, the child issue sort of sets a deadline for these goals, neh? And so I've had a lot to think about, mainly on the "someone to share" part. Do I want to rearrange the priorities of what I am looking for in a partner; to put having one willing to have a family with me so high that I can compromise on my other needs? No, at least not yet. But in time? Or would I rather be willing to adopt alone? Would I even be accepted for single-mom adoption, with my history of depression? And, on the subject of adoption, even if I find the ideal partner, do I want to have children of my own or do I want to adopt, or both? After all, there are too many people in the world as it is...? The jury is still out on all of these issues, and I'm not holding my breath quite yet. As I said, my biological clock isn't even ticking; I don't have melting reactions to babies; but the great clock of time won't stop for anyone. 15 Mar 05: Totally Nerdish What did I do today? So I've indulged the geek part of my nature quite thoroughly. Might be good to work hard tomorrow, to compensate. The cough is still persisting, so still don't know when I get to ballet lessons. Another night of getting to write this journal so late I'm too tired to think any serious thoughts... 14 Mar 05: Realigning I haven't been very wordy, because I've been trying to recover from this nasty influenza (like three-fourths of the rest of the world, it seems) and processing new approaches to writing this journal and to written communication in general. Also, celebrating Lissu's birthday during the weekend with loads of food (first cake and port at Q-land on Saturday and then mountains of nachos and salsa on Sunday at Ebu's place while watching House of Flying Daggers and playing this totally, adorably mad drumming game, Donkey Conga). And sewing some, finally. Last night was one of dreams, again. All of today has been kind of floaty because of those. Castles and adventures and caves and mad sorceresses played by Cate Blanchett; being an honoured guest at Windsor Castle and seeing lots of its life below-stairs; a skiing trip to honour Queen Elizabeth II's birthday (in the dream it was conveniently in winter, and the castle itself was in Sweden, and I managed to borrow skis from the backyard of the house where I used to live as a starting student - in Kontula, in Helsinki), a reality-TV program where we had to guess real serial killers; cannibalistic fast food (meaning burgers that came alive and ate the other burgers); something having to do with Yoko Tsuno giving birth to a baby that died and came back to life as a miniature version of herself; and a virus that took away everyone's natural inhibitions completely. And lots of other stuff, mostly about the castle-cave-sorcery-adventure and about the life of a Queen's servants. Too many details to remember, far less list. My Pelageya character is... difficult, to say the least. But I guess it can't be helped; just have to work harder to get into it. I do look forward to this game a lot; I'm just not too happy about some of the player list. I know it's my own problem, but it does affect my enthusiasm somewhat. Tired. Don't understand why, considering how long I slept this morning. Another pile of books - lots of classic scifi borrowed from Ebu - is waiting. 10 Mar 05: Bah The job was taken before I even sent my application: it was not on the job forum any more. Hmph. 09 Mar 05: Getting Better Yesterday morning, my fever was down, and today, I've felt much better already, so tomorrow should resume normal rhythm. I also decided to apply for a full-time job for the next four months; we'll see if I get it. I may not, but I'd love to. After all, even though there are still dark and miserable days, my general energy level and coping are much, much better - quite up to a nine-to-five job right now, I think. We'll see about more emotionally demanding things, like the study matter, later. Right now, routine and salary are what's needed. I've made some other plans, too, but the less said of them yet, the better. And some larps have found their way in the previously empty calendar, so it's looking quite promising. Now only to get through the sewing projects, and I might even be reacquainted with the feeling of satisfaction, again. Since Vinja left, Vivi has turned into an active participant in everything that happens in the house. She purrs loudly in greeting, doesn't hide from strangers, has learned to love sleeping (and playing!) in my lap, and has developed an alarming obsession to hunting the cursor on the screen. Being the only baby in the house has done wonders for her. And she's so pretty! ...Though even so, the award for The Ultimate Pretty must be conceded to Lin's Morwen. Finished VanderMeer's City of Saints & Madmen. Had the usual problem: well-written, oh yes, but very much not to my taste. Still much more immersed in the memories of Ash. Now reading Song for the Basilisk by Patricia McKillip. 07 Mar 05: The Real Thing Yup, this is influenza all right: third day of sleeping, and my fever's still up to 38,2. It's not the fever so much as the coughing that is the worst part - the sort of irritated cough that just goes on and on, and in between the coughing fits one just keeps fighting the neverending tickle in the throat so as to delay the next one. Had to cave in and ask Mom to come and bring me cough mixture right now. (At least I suppose this is good for the upper-stomach muscles, considering how sore they are by now. Got to see the silver lining and so on...) 06 Mar 05: ...And Scores I slept for twelve hours, and in the morning still hoped to go to Jukka's housewarming party, but my fever was up to 39,2C and showed no signs of going down even with more sleep. I was feeling completely miserable, and this is after all only a flu: reminds one to respect those people who live with pain like rheum every day (oh, and asthmatics, too: I was so ill I dreamed that my nose was so full of snot and my throat so swollen that I could not breathe, and it was horrible). So, even more sleep it was, no matter how much it bugged me not to be able to go. Woke up in the small hours after another fourteen hours of feverish dreams; more medication and hot beverages; now thoroughly bored and angry about my rotten luck. And coughing my lungs out, of course. 04 Mar 05: Mr. Murphy's Courting Again Oscar-watching was a lovely stroll through vanity fair (though all separate parts of said fair - costumes, host, who got what - were terribly boring). After that, most of the week has been mute and miserable. Friends have been blessings during these days: Oscars, House of Flying Daggers with Ari & Salla, visits from Anni and Heli. Otherwise, not much to say. Finally, today, won the fight with myself and made it to therapy, then had lunch in town with Mom&Olli as well as Petri, then went to visit Kerava. However, the flu I caught from Anni arrived to cut the nice drive upwards. This is the real thing, though I'd hoped I'd had it and survived it in one of those constant flu episodes in the autumn. Guess not. I was somewhat disappointed with Flying Daggers. There were parts that I loved, but it didn't really reach anywhere near the levels of intensity I felt while watching Hero. It may be less offensive to those viewers who took the message in Hero at face value (and not as tragic irony, as I did), as the story is mostly concerned with personal relationships. I just felt that the convoluted plot did not quite add up altogether. Besides, I'm not the greatest fan of Ziyi Zhang. I think she's a wonderful dancer and an okay actress, but she isn't really that attractive to me (which sort of makes her an exception among popular Asian actresses). I love that TV2 has started showing movie classics on weekday mornings. I may finally be able to patch up huge gaps in my cinematic knowledge (I generally am awake at that hour these days - I just can't stay awake at night, or even in the early evening). Lots of complaining at my therapist again. No wonder, considering that I still can't even read other people's reminiscences of their live ten, five etc. years ago. It's that painful. And of course, that is exactly why I should deal with it by facing the damned thing and writing it all down in public. Then I could forget about it. And besides, isn't that exactly the sort of thing that adds to the understanding of my depression and its symptoms (the only value I really see in this diary now, when it has been amply proved that it didn't turn me into, or reveal me as, a writer)? However, right now I'm too ill and too tired and need to sleep to get the flu back to manageable levels. |