You can still contact me at svaha@iki.fi

30 Nov 03: Two Towers Extended

Saw it. Kalle had bought it. Much rejoicing was had, and much bafflement as to what had been left out of the theatrical version. Faramir especially came off much better and more interesting in this one, and there were more of the Ents, too. I could have lived without some of the hobbt antics and a bit of unnecessary exposition from Gandalf, but all in all, a better film altogether. I still hate the heavy-handedness of Theoden's "possession" and "exorcism", and I still can't see the point of the warg attack episode, but I can forgive them.

Now if only I could rest easy about Return of the King, hearing about all that has been cut and nothing else but battles, battles all the time...

I suddenly find myself in much greater responsibility over Faerun IV, as Atte simply hasn't got the time or the energy in the army. This is surprising, and somewhat frightening, but not altogether impossible. We'll see. There are some kinks to iron out yet, but I feel altogether too little healthy fear over the whole thing.

Despite my protestations last week, I really didn't mean to quit writing altogether, or even for this long. I've been plagued by another bout of that vague pain the source of which keeps eluding me: everything simply hurts. Every thought is a drag. Every occasion is impossible to face. Every imagined slight is like a whiplash in the eye. I even went for that free Stockholm cruise with parts of the Posse, and it was nice, though I didn't do much besides sleeping on board ...but even so, it didn't serve to make me feel better. I hate the world, I hate people in general and several people in particular, and I hate myself for being so antisocial.

Most of the Posse ended up here tonight, and we finally got started with that superhero campaign (hooray for Aarne, and Atte for forcing him!). I don't know how I got through it, as cranky as I was feeling, but I did, and I know I will be glad of it in the future. It's always better to be able to be social than asocial - it reaps better returns in the long run, as I so well know. Right now, my head hurts both inside and out.

I've considered ending it all for several times in the past week. No, it's not about lack of medication. I'm just... well, too hopeless for anything to matter much any more.

And I hate, I hate, I hate my extra weight. And of course, when failing to avoid thinking of the weight issue, my first, mindless response is to eat more.

19 Nov 03: The Puzzle of Existence

I thought of another way of looking at my reluctance to write lately. It's the old "what's the point of it all" -thingy, and I mean it quite seriously. I am constantly amazed, baffled, dumbfounded, by our existence - life, sentience, and all its myriad forms, from the way we are put together to the ways of our food and clothing and good manners and sauna and lipstick and dance and weddings and saviors and deaths and especially to the ways in which we create anything we create, from coffee mugs to printer paper to sci-fi TV shows to LARPs and poetry and something like Hero or Perdido Street Station. I am bowled over by the miraculous complexity of it all, and I keep wondering the eternal question - what it all means. I still have no answer, and furthermore, in keeping this diary, I don't feel I have got any closer to the answer. So what's the point of writing, really?

Others seem able to formulate at least partial answers, or parts of answers that attract other people to empathise with them. I'm speaking of popular blogs, of course. Now, I never wanted to be part of the blog culture, really, so that's not what it is about. I just feel that if I can't provide at least some working model of looking at the world for other people to sympathise with and associate with (or at least look, recognize and not associate with), I'm just blowing my words in the proverbial wind.

And I have nothing to provide, really. At least not in the way of answers, and not even the way of good questions, like so many people I admire and adore (Janka, Jaakko and Hakkis come to mind immediately). I often even agree with them (or Mikki, like the other day when everyone was pointing towards his rants about individual privacy). But they said it already, and I can very seldom add anything meaningful. As to my own opinions... do I have opinions? A couple, but I never seem to be able to put them into good, coherent speeches.

All I have is need, and a hand that reaches blindly. I don't like this status.

As to that promised dream diary: the problem is that of late, my dreams have become much more sensual than they used to be. Add that to the fact that the supporting cast of my dreams consists of real people, and it's suddenly infinitely more difficult. If I start writing, I should write about everything I remember in my dreams, or it defeats the purpose ... and I'm not quite so far beyond embarrassment yet that I'd find it comfortable to describe, say, a dream of having sex with someone I just barely know and certainly would not imagine having in my bed in reality.

I'll have to think about it. It would be interesting in some form, anyway, since the times when I realize, or dream that I realize, that I am dreaming, have also become more and more frequent, and I'd like to examine that.

Oh yeah, and now that Perdido Street Station got mentioned along the way: it's definitely one of those books that keeps haunting you afterwards, even if it didn't quite answer my expectations (but those were ridiculously high anyway). It's also one of those books that makes you return to the old mystery of defining what is fantasy and what is science fiction. It has the feel of science fiction, of a fallen-colony culture... but then again, if you look at the world-building, does it ever come out and say that's what Bas-Lag is? And doesn't it have exactly the elements of a quirky fantasy world? It even has magic, or something that suspiciously looks like it (at least they speak of it as magic... and as for the human - steam machine hybrids: how could that be done with anything we could understand as science?). And even if it isn't magical, it's an internally consistent, complete world that is clearly separate from our present-day reality. So which is it?

Being on the subject of literature, I noticed that someone has introduced Meira to the wonder that is A.S.Byatt's Possession. Good. It has been one of my most beloved reads since 1991, when I spent some time in London and found it along the way.

18 Nov 03: Over And Over

I keep thinking of the same words for subject lines, again and again. Nothing seems to change, at least not for the better. There is only the slow slide downwards, so slow and gradual that one gets used to it on the way. Which, as stated before, is the worst part of it.

Whatever. Anyway, I've spent far too much time for the past two days trying to find a nice drawing of a steel gauntlet from the side, to put it into Alusair's arms as described. No luck. Probably have to be content with just the falcon rising.

Also, I hate not being in love with anyone. It's pretty definite by now that the obsession with A Certain Someone is gone. This might be taken as a good thing from the outside point of view, but being without the slightest spark of fire, no matter how feeble, does not sit well with me.

At least I've nearly finished with the Cormyr novels, and can soon start updating the particulars of Cormyr politics. Also, I may get my computer fixed this week, which means getting things moving for my old characters and their players.

It's pretty much time to get those sewing jobs off my hands, too.

16 Nov 03: Anemia?

I've been so tired lately that it's not just believable to blame it on the depression. I realized that I might actually have a physical problem: I might very well be anemic. Well, if that's so, at least it's easily corrected. Will go and see a doctor this week.

I don't think it's anything worse than that - hope not, surely.

Besides sleeping, the only thing I've done is work a bit on FIV. Oh, and watched Hero three times in a row. It's possibly the most beautiful movie I have ever seen.

12 Nov 03: Self-Hatred

I thought communicating with people would make me feel better, but it just made me feel stupid, unrefined and common, once again.

11 Nov 03: Spiralling Down

I don't really know what to write. Not that there's anything to write about; that's the problem. I'm sliding down and down, again, still, and I don't even know why. I didn't go to therapy today, or on Friday. I didn't go to my doctor's appointment to get a sick leave paper on Friday. I haven't changed clothes for a couple of days. I only sleep and sleep and sleep, and have something vaguely reminiscent of nightmares.

Okay, I can point to a couple of things that irk me, but I doubt they can be real reasons. I found it very hard to listen to Satu telling about how, and what, her children are doing. He daughters are normal, healthy, accomplished and accomplishing. I don't want to hear about them. I don't. Also, it was driven home to me yesterday that what A Certain Someone does, or does not, can still hurt me a lot... And I'm frustrated by my slow wits and reactions in responding to anything at the larp.fi forum, even when I'd like to (and lately there's been a lot I'd like to, but never get around to). So I never do.

Mainly, at the bottom, there is a growing fear of getting into serious trouble about money issues. And yet I can do nothing, just wait and fear like a deer in the headlights, paralyzed, half feeling that trouble and punishment would be quite justified for me.

It feels a bit - just marginally, but still - better having put that down.

I still don't know what to do. Nothing ever changes. Nothing ever helps. My therapist says it all just slides off me, off this slick wall of rationalizations and explanations and justifications, all welded in fear... but how could I make it in any other way? If it can slide off, why should I make it any easier to stick - I could not trust it then, not absolutely?

Never mind.

I finished Perdido Street Station. It was not quite as satisfying as I had hoped. I guess I expected a bit more of that promised twist at the end - I didn't really see one big one, though there were several smaller ones that Suvi could have meant (don't know which). Fantastic world-building, certainly - beautiful, amazing, tragic, repulsive and amusing all at once. And the second book I've ever read that has made me sympathize with spider characters... Considering the extent of my arachnophobia, that is quite a feat.

So then I finally started on the Cormyr books and intend not to drop them until I've gleaned all the relevant information for the campaign. So far, it doesn't feel too unpleasant.

09 Nov 03: Mpfh

Nothing to say, nothing to see. Go away.

07 Nov 03: Lazy, Lazier, Laziest

Appeared to be getting productive. Appearance much deceiving, as usual.

Not much has been happening anyway: mornings are still exceedingly unpleasant, throat is still bothered by slime, sunlight is still a rare sight. Went to see the new Matrix film with Lissu yesterday, after having finally managed through the middle part on Monday or Tuesday. More than slightly underwhelmed by both. I'm sorry, but no matter how pompous a music is played in the background, I still can't buy Keanu as self-sacrificing Messiah (oh, did I spoil that? Look, with this film it's a wonder if anyone can be bothered to care!).

Vampire clan meeting today was fun. Everyone was more than accommodating after my long absences, and I now feel reasonably well equipped to deal with next weekend's actual game. I still don't know what to do with my hair, though. I guess I'll just finally use that bottle of red colour mousse and accept the results for the longer run.

Dad and his wife are coming to visit tomorrow and staying overnight. Nice, after such a long time. I have a hard time trying to come up with something nice for Father's Day, though, with my limited resources.

Now if only I could get my timetables even reasonably together and my sewing in order... It would be nice to have some money in hand when going to a Stockholm cruise in a couple of weeks, with the Posse (it's free - the actual trip, that is - otherwise there would be no go, of course).

Still reading Perdido Street Station, and it's way beyond anything in The Scar by sheer inventiveness (the evocative style is quite the same, and just as satisfying). I wouldn't want to live in Mieville's head, but by golly, the man can write!

Oh yeah, the dream diary. Soon. One of these days. Absolutely.

Missing housemates. Reading their blogs is not the same. And, oh, they have a real problem child among their course, and after listening to their complaints about this prodigy of goodwill I'd like to ask if I was just as bad - but I don't think I'm ready to hear the answer...

Been tinkering with the Faerun pages slowly but surely. I quite like the pictures I've managed to put together (partly by employing Paula, partly after getting expert advice from Emilia), but I'm still looking for a map of the world/continent. I already found some maps of Cormyr, but they need more work. And it would, of course, be nice to be able to receive some comments from the head GM every once in a while, but Atte has not ben very communicative during the weekends I hear he has spent on leave from the army. I'm getting jittery about announcing the game... Though, of course, I shouldn't, as I still have to try and write a short, concise, but descriptive, overview of the damned world in the first place...

03 Nov 03: Somewhat Overwhelmed

Yeah, I know: been less than communicative. The flu, and everything. Still here, though. So far.

I wouldn't still be convalescing, if I had not had the busiest Friday for a long time. In the morning, I helped Suvi take her cats to the vet, and in the evening, me and P&P went to dinner at Olli's place. The food at both occasions (well, at Suvi's after the vet, naturally) was fabulous, but I was up for far too long and with far too little to cover my neck. By night my throat was practically swollen shut, so I slept for most of the weekend. I would have loved to go to a couple of parties, but alas...

Many people I know were at one or another of two live-action games, but I didn't feel interested enough at the time when their ads went up. Weird, that. There were more reasons, but I'm not going to list them here - just little things that added up to a general unwillingness. Besides, I don't exactly have that much money right now...

I finished the new Pratchett, and it wasn't quite as boring as I surmised a hundred pages into it, but nothing spectacular either. Now I'm reading Perdido Street Station, finally - and Suvi promised that it has a far better ending than that of The Scar!

I really, really need my character files...

There's loads of stuff I could write about my insights at and around the therapy sessions these past two weeks (though I only got to go on Friday last week because of the bloody plague). I just don't... well, feel like it right now. Yet. Maybe. No, no, nothing new even now, just - well, ways of looking at old stuff.

But for the first time in years, and probably only the second time ever, I actually rode a horse in my dreams last night. A big, white stallion no less. Yay! (It's been one of those irritating and hurtful processes that are almost a constant in my dreams: of things diminishing and disappearing, turning out to be something else altogether, or never coming to be at all. Often, I have plans to ride - I go to a stables for a lesson, or to a farm just for the purpose, or plan an escape with the help of a horse - and it never comes to be.) I don't know what you read into it, but I find it a victorious feeling.