You can still contact me at svaha@iki.fi

30.10.02

Well, today was somewhat more lively - all thanks to Paula, who invited me over yesterday evening, fed me, listened to my apologetic ramblings and even made me do real work. And on top of it all - wonder of wonders - got me up and about at ten this morning.

It was interesting and somewhat frightening to reacquaint oneself with the daylit world that other people frequent. I am still not sure if I'd just prefer carefully ochestrated visits every once in a while. Reality has mauled me enough that I suppose I can be forgiven for being a little careful.

I'm trying to concentrate, but there is an incredible "Don Quijote" on the TV (the ballet, of course, silly!). Nurejev and the Australian Ballet in 1973 - when women were still women and dancing was more important than gymnastics. The production is dazzlingly difficult and gorgeously presented, very typical of Nurejev. I didn't see it quite from the beginning, so I can't really give an opinion on the country scenes (what I saw was rather... wild). But all in all, aah... what a pleasure.

I wonder if I should go downstairs and watch some of my ballet tapes again.

It generally inspires me to get off my butt and moving, too.

Anyway. Back to our scheduled programme. On Friday, we left our heroine at the bottom of the black hole, and Saturday started in the same vein, or nearly didn't start at all. I got up a half past three, still feeling tired and ugly and apathetic, moving and even reacting in slow motion. If Jukka hadn't called about the Vampire game and agreed to come and pick me up by car, I don't think I could have made it there. As it was, I managed to get myself together (as much as my bursting flesh can ever be "together"... God, I hated the recent pictures of myself in the reopened game galleries!). The game surprised me pleasantly, mostly because of both Jukka and Lasse, who made my poor Kaarina balance quite nicely on a knife edge, trying to keep two jealous men (excuse me, vampires) happy, or at least not murderously unhappy. Great fun!

(Oh, and just to make sure: there are loads and loads of wonderful pictures in those galleries, and I think it is great the games have been documented so well. It's not the GM's fault that I, personally, have ballooned into an elephant...)

I suppose it came as no surprise that I could not drag myself away from the game before the end and so was very late in getting to the party at Lemming Valley. Luckily, Jukka adde to his list of good deeds by taking me (and Juki) there, so we got to the party soon after one am, when it was still in full swing. A lot of people left pretty soon after that, though, and I was a little regretful at not having talked to them much. But I did a lot of catching up with Taika, which was nice, and talked a little with Jaakko, which was also nice.

(...And one of those moments when I woke up and felt properly ashamed of always thinking that everything that touches me even slightly is in any manner about me.)

I ended up sleeping on Jori's floor, in conditions the disclosing of which I will leave to others more closely concerned with them.

On Sunday I woke up to the sound of giggling from the living room, as Ninni and Mari's brother and sister were watching "Footloose". I had always meant to see it, being of the "Flashdance" generation, but I never did, and as it turned out, I could have lived without even the last third of it. It was weird - and this from someone who used to follow "Fame" religiously and could be sold anything that had the word "dancing" in it.

I left to return Lissu her key (as they were leaving the party we got one of those ideas that seem great at four am - that I could go to sleep at her place, since she was staying elsewhere; I didn't go, having no ride at night and unable to stay up late enough for the first bus, so I had an extra key to get to her). We stopped for a while for coffee and a surprise heart-to-heart ...and naturally forgot the key. However, it was good to talk to her - and even more, it was good to be able to listen, this time. I don't know if it helped, but I was very touched that she could open up to me a little (I have noticed that it is not as simple to everyone else as it is to me).

I got home scandalously late, considering that I had asked Topi and Heli to come and have a sauna, but they had managed to entertain themselves, or be entertained by others in the house. Besides sauna and some pancake and jam, we spent most of the time socializing in the living room, listening to Anni reading choice bits from the dating extra of City magazine. I drove T & Q to the station and took up the next Banks book in line ("Look to Windward", a re-read).

I was supposed to go to work on Monday, but despite going to bed I didn't sleep properly - just kept reading, and then kept drifting in a sort of half-dream. At six am, after ninety minutes of solid sleep, I was feeling dizzy and sick to my stomach and decided that I was simply too tired to go. I sent a message to the headmaster, hoping that she might understand, but I don't know how it went down, as the word "depression" was mentioned. I still feel I made the right decision, but of course it worries me whether I will be able to get more work in this situation.

I went back to sleep and resurfaced partially around four pm. So Monday, practically, wasn't. I did watch "Pushing Tin" to try and relieve my social exhaustion with the sight of John Cusack, but it was a disappointment - highly unbelievable, highly obvious, highly annoying. Not that I won't watch Cusack in anything, anywhere, any time...

After the movie, I had a chat with Anni and found out something having to do with a mutual acquaintance (friend?) that made me feel rather awful. There is nothing that makes me feel as bad as being left out of somewhere where I thought I had a part in; this was one such occasion. Of course people have no obligation to like me or include me in anything, but I had honestly thought that this person liked me (at least I liked her), and I simply cannot be rational about being left out; outside; rejected. It is completely beyond me. It drives home that I am no good in anything and will never be any good; that I am just as much of a loser and bad person as I fear.

The discussion didn't end well, as I was in a state of zero tolerance for talking about my relations to other people, and Anni was also tired, angry and hungry, waiting for a supper that was promised to her but almost didn't materialize. It drifted - well, wrenched, more like it - into another one of those "why-don't-you-help-me-as-promised-well-why-don't-you-ask-for-help" fights that never go anywhere (and are quite as much, or even more so, my fault).

That was when I wrote the last entry.

Yesterday was little better until Paula's invitation. I dropped Lissu's key off on the way, finally, and then spent the evening at Petri's and Paula's place, watching TV, eating the most exquisite creamy zucchini soup and even occasionally working on a joint project that is finally seeing light at the end of a long, long tunnel.

And today I got that glimpse into the ordinary world, though it was somewhat softened by a lunch with Lissu.

Heli sent some email on "The Magic Carpet" and mentioned that the game still needs more male players, so I spent some time composing ads to friends and acquaintances. I hope they take note, as at the moment there are too few men to run the game at all.

Uh-oh, it's twenty past two in the morning, and I was supposed to be asleep by midnight, to stick to this healthy new regime. This is what I get for trying to be a dutiful chronicler.

Bed. Now.

I really think I will switch to Finnish sooner or later.

P.S. If I seem incoherent, it might just be because since yesterday, my mind has been working to encompass the existence of celebrity bath ducks. I know; I couldn't believe it either, but it was sitting right there in front of my brother's bathroom mirror. A James Brown bath duck. The mind boggles.

P.S.2. Association politics suck. It's that time of the year again, and storms are brewing on email lists and elsewhere. It would be so nice if we could all share the same visions and opinions. Wouldn't it?

28.10.02

I'm sorry, but I can't really write tonight either, though I have the weekend to rehash and lots of general moaning to do. I have a splitting headache and I hate my existence.

Maybe tomorrow, when I'm not as hung over anymore. (No, I haven't been drinking. I have a hangover from social interaction - except this time I never experienced the good buzz, only the lowdown. Only the disassociation and the self-hatred.)

I should finally get through this ridiculous attempt at hanging in there, since it just gets more and more ridiculous every day. I should just gather up the guts and give up.

But tonight, for some stupid molecule-thin glimmer of pitiful hope, I am still going to go to sleep and wait for dreams and hope against hope that waking up sooner or later tomorrow, I could find some reason in something again. Is this good? I am beginning to seriously doubt it.

What good is there in meaningless survival?

25.10.02

We're back on familiar ground - that of the desert under darkness.

All it took was reading the net diaries of a few people I know and being reminded of how little skill I have, after all.

My eyes see clearly, again. I never left the valley of the shadow at all; I just fooled myself I saw some light, because I wanted to see it so desperately. It was all just illusions in the desert; hallucinations born of my choking thirst for art, skill, love, connection, acceptance, belonging. Nothing more.

I feel too weak to want to move. If I lie quite still - if I won't say or do or think anything - maybe the pain won't look this way.

24.10.02

Today's motto: "I'm not dumb, I just have a command of totally useless information." (Calvin, of Calvin & Hobbes by Watterson, naturally)

Today's accomplishments: 1) not leaving a day in between diary entries 2) learning more of the Abbasid Caliphate than I ever thought to need and coming up with a further, 99,9% imaginary division of its area into smaller sultanates together with Heli (the head GM of "The Magic Carpet"). Probably the names of the proposed sultans are pitifully off, but at least we've made an effort to create the framework for the power structure. Some things may still need a little tweaking (we already realized that the parameters of the game required the condensation of the two first Abbasid rulers into one).

In the course of our research Lin came up with a beautiful old copy of Arabian Nights in Finnish, with a lovely foreword by Martti Haavio, whereby we learned that the earliest themes of the stories go back to classical Indian literature and that the style and the milieu on the other hand date to Egypt in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries.

The game needs loads of male players yet. Experienced ones, preferably, as far as I understand. All the best and most important roles are still open, so for those inclined to political games, there's lots of excellent opportunities. (Women, on the other hand, are in plentiful supply, as usual.. It's getting competitive for us in the LARPing world. So unfair.)

Read the new collection of SIP and finished "Excession". I think I must have missed something in the latter, as I still couldn't make head or tail of who plotted what with whom and for what as I finished it. The former, however, left me gasping and giggling in a most satisfactory manner, as it should have.

Watched an episode of Buffy on SubTV; probably the one that actually should have preceded the Angel episode we saw on Sunday. Still don't like Spike.

Then watched an episode of Farscape; it didn't manage to grab this time either. Well, can't help it. Maybe someone some day opens my eyes to what is special in it, as Irrette did with Buffy.

Enjoyed a highly amusing snippet of plot in preparation for the Vampire game. It probably won't result in anything drastic or even visible, but it was quite nice nonetheless.

Did not leave house all day.

...There's something else. I notice I have begun to put a positive spin on my descriptions - so strong is the old habit of presenting a proper face to the world, now that I know a couple of people who read this. In a sense, this is good - not wallowing in self-pity - but in another sense (and sensibility) it isn't realistic. Not yet. It is not truthful, and truth should be my highest priority. Omission - keeping face - it leads too easily to self-deception.

So. I could complain how I should have gone to the bank for the signing of the loan arrangements... but that can be arranged. I could complain of how I just sat on my lazy butt all day again... but even that can be changed.

Today's true pain is the realization that I have to let go. I have to teach myself out of the current long-term infatuation. I have to. Otherwise I will be burdened and perhaps incapacitated by pain, humiliation and self-abuse in the next two months. And this cannot happen. I cannot let myself behave irrationally in public for this; I might, if it made any sense or had ever made any sense, but it has not, does not, will not. It is not about whether I have the right to feel what I feel; it is about unreasonable amounts of humiliation and ridicule in comparisons. There is a line, and I have to drag myself back to the right side of it.

I have to.

But where will I find fuel, then? Will I ever fly in flame anymore?

Oh, and as a postscript, yesterday's motto turned out to be: "I can stop any time I want to." Kudos to who said it - perhaps I will try to learn from you.

23.11.02

I've been active today. Don't know about productive, but any movement is movement forward, I suppose.

I had set the alarm at ten, but for more than two hours I obstinately ignored it every ten minutes. Then finally Susi called to ask about the white sheets of fabric for their Halloween party. She thought I was amusingly incoherent, but I managed to gather up the dregs of my consciousness and put together a coherent picture to look out on while I was talking to her.

I had a meeting with this producer of a cable tv program for something some larpers might get involved with (nothing very interesting, but of course I am not supposed to talk about it). Then I had some time before Paula was coming to town to meet me, so I called around and finally located Spider, who was shopping for some props for Saturday's Vampire game with Katri L. I hung around with them for a while. Paula came to meet me and Spider at La Luna while I had some orange juice, having already had the daily two cups of coffee I can safely drink with the producer.

What a pitifully low tolerance for coffee I've got!

After that we headed for Stockmann's credit department, and I made a plan for my payments with no trouble whatsoever. It was such a great relief! And besides, the lady from the bank called and said that one of my old student loans was successfully renegotiated so that this autumn's payment will be moved to the future. I'll go sign that one tomorrow.

For reward, we went to the Academic Bookstore and spent quite a while between the sf/f shelves, moaning the inadequacy of our funds and the rise in book prices. Paula finally bought something French, while I was a good girl and clung to my wallet until the end.

Need to start using the library again.

Came home, after I had stopped in Tikkurila and got myself some food as well as more of the medicine. Good girl.

I should not be feeling this good. This is suspect. Something will go wrong soon. I know it. And besides, it's not as if all my neglected tasks are back in order now, oh no. We're still hanging over a catastrophe by a thin thread.

I cannot afford optimism, not yet. Not even if there's several things to look forward to on Saturday (a day of productive work on my homepages and the renaissance dance CD with Paula; the Vampire game and everything connected to it; and the Halloween party at Lemming Valley) and Sunday (sauna and stuff with Topi, Heli and Lissu). They are still just peripherals; just duct tape on the motor. They help, but they aren't repairs.

I had this huge anger reaction to all optimism last week, or the one before (can't remember). I found myself huffing and puffing at the psychiatrist while I explained to her how revolting I found baseless optimism - how I hated my mother's habit of applying it to everything. She has a saying: "Things tend to work out, you know." No, Mom, I don't know, because they quite clearly tend to do no such thing!

Recognizing that anger was a first, so I suppose it was good to get it out in the open.

In other news, I notice I have begun to censor myself, though I promised solemnly not to do so. I suppose it is an attempt to built a protective, polite barrier again, now that I seem to be on the road closer to the rest of humanity. Not good. Won't be of any use if I start thinking of being emotionally and socially presentable. That way lies fear and paralysis.

Inka got so addicted to "Strangers in Paradise" that she went and bought the newest collection, which I don't yet have. I nobly let Anni take it for her bedtime reading even though I was in the middle already... Besides, I had to write this, and I'm still reading "Excession". I'm about four-fifths through and totally in the dark about everything even now, but it is highly entertaining.

I put up backwards links and my email address on most of these pages. Somehow they look altogether more proper now. How silly.

(...Yesterday? A nothing day, unfortunately. Watched TV and read some. That's it, except for the extremely amazing fact that I don't crave chocolate any more. I still like it and want to experience the taste, but I can't eat much at a time. No wonder Prozac is such a phenomenon in the appearance-obsessed US.)

(For those with experience on depression and its medication - yes, mine is fluoxetin, which in the US is sold in the form of Prozac. There are other, newer brands of mood medication that have different methods of effect, but so far, only good old fl. has worked for me. It is not perfect by all means, but it will do for now.)

21.10.02

So. Still here. Actually, the blasted pets went and broke a cable in my computer, so I was not able to write for a couple of days.

I went to the housewarming party on Friday and had a suprisingly good time. Of course, now that a few days have passed since, I have managed to twist that feeling around and tell myself that I actually had a terrible time, at least compared to how much fun I should have had and how much attention I should have garnered. Intellectually, I can see that this is complete and utter bullshit, but emotionally...

I think there's a problem right there.

But still, it was nice to see several people I haven't seen for a while, such as Arwen or Dare and Mike, or Laura, or Kerttu (and of course Noora, who lives there). And I even had a pleasant chat with Markus M., which is rather remarkable (we never used to agree on anything - in fact, even a few weeks ago he prophesied Gehenna after we had had the same opinion in an email conversation). The apartment is called "The X-men", so a lot of the evening was spent on that subject. I was rather flattered that Laura and Dare cast me in their imaginary X-men larp as Baby Phoenix Rachel Summers, since that's who I identify with most. I also came up with a highly fragmentary theory on the similarities between Mike, Dare and Laura - similarities, that is, at least from the perspective of watching from Planet Kristiina.

Some people tried to bring up some ugly old stuff (dammit, how do you translate "teinisosiaaliporno" into English...??), and I had to tell them quite firmly that I was not at all interested in the subject any more. It had to do with people mixing personal grievances with LARP organizing, which I find to be very bad form.

I was driving, so the strongest beverage I had that night was coffee - I started to feel really tired at some stage and never got around to playing "Chez Geek" with a bunch of people like I planned to. I finally had to announce to the people who were hitching a ride that it was now or never. It took incredibly long to get out of the door.

Saturday was spent doing ab-so-lute-ly nothing. I had finished the re-reads of both "A Deepness in the Sky" and Connie Willis's "Bellwether" and went once more through the entire run of "Strangers in Paradise". I really need to get more new books to read. Particularly since I managed to spend four or five hours on the web pages of "The Tribe", that strange children's soap opera from New Zealand in which all adults are dead and gone and teenagers and children form a strange new world based on gangs or "tribes". I happened to catch an episode on TV in the afternoon and simply had to find out What Had Gone Before, and it turned out there was a lot of Before.

If the synopses on the home page are correct in their tone and information content, this is an extremely weird aspect of children's entertainment. But addictive, too - I can see that, and even feel some of it, going through this second childhood as I am.

On Sunday, I had the meeting about writing for this game I mentioned - "The Magic Carpet", which takes place in an Arabian Nights setting. I agreed to write five characters and help with putting together some of the historical and geographical context. I know very little about the actual history and geography of that time, but apparently it's time to learn something new. After all, there's always Google.

It was less awkward than it could have been, considering. And I got quite excited about the characters assigned to me. This might even be... fun?

Today, I haven't done much except started Banks's "Excession". I had forgotten how entertaining the Culture ships are.

Oh, and made a few phonecalls - though not all the ones I should. But still. Not completely hopeless.

I need to go and buy more medicine tomorrow. And -- bloody hell, I forgot about calling the psychiatrist in trying to avoid making a couple of other phonecalls! Tomorrow, then.

The medication seems to be kicking in with my general mood. At least I am not altogether irrationally, aggressively sad and paranoid anymore. Too bad no medication exists that could give me courage and confidence.

Too tired. Too late. Sleep.

Tomorrow I must see to putting backwards links on these pages. It never occurred to me that someone might link directly to something else than the front page (or link me at all), but I have seen the light and learned otherwise.

17.10.02

If these are the results of courage, it's not worth it.

I went to work yesterday; the lessons were okay but I felt terrible in the staff room again. I even managed to be on time in the morning by train and bus.

A teacher who had said she might need me to substitute for her for a week later in the autumn made arrangements for it with another person right in front of me.

And a teacher whom I respect greatly gave me a ride to town in the afternoon and tried to perk me up. I was tired of her attempts to do that, so I told her some truths of my life. She thought she understood, but she still didn't have a clue. I didn't feel very good after she dropped me off in the centre.

I met Tommi in town, thinking of talking about possible future games, but neither of us could afford to eat out, so we just wandered around aimlessly until I got the fabulous idea of going to the bank to talk about the loan matters, if Tommi would come and be moral support.

Bad idea. Oh, Tommi agreed - he came there with me and waited the whole time and even tried to be supportive afterwards, but...

I suppose I should have felt easier, having dealt with the matter, and even proud, having finally dared something I've been avoiding. All - all - I could feel was this monstrous shame, shame that made me physically sick. And it would not go away, not even later in the evening.

If the result of trying is feeling like this, I don't think it's worth it it to live.

I don't really have anything to counter it, see? I don't have anything that makes me happy or satisfied or proud. If I did, I might not feel the pain of the shameful things so overwhelmingly. I don't know - I suppose there are people who feel that living itself is worth fighting for one's life, and maybe even saintly people who can go on with no joy, simply doing their jobs and filling their places, no matter how awful their own life is. I definitely do not belong in the first category, and I am starting to despair of attaining the level of the second.

I agreed to help in writing a game tonight. I wonder if I am completely off my head. What actual chance do I have to accomplish even that much? I only decided to do it because I could not very well say no to this particular person. The reasons are complex and obscure and have to do with my strange idea of honour.

Well, I'll know more of the possible workload on Sunday.

I am hoping to have enough energy to go to a housewarming party tomorrow.

15.10.02

Wet snow drags defiant leaves off the trees.
Winter drags images off 
          from the platforms of the heart, 
they twist and bend, wet, formless, lose colour 
and meaning. It is time to let go.

Let go, they say. It is time 
                 and more than time.
But this one is beyond me.
No matter how much is promised 
for those who leave everything behind
(not only what they had but what they desired),
I cannot, not this one, not in this darkness 
of the year and the senses and the self;

I cannot give away this last spark.
Call me a coward, if you will,
not daring to face the dark with nothing,

it is no less than the truth.

To not love is to die
and I am not ready yet

no, I am not ready to leave the embers of my pyre
and fly into the void.

A year ago I was in Paris, in the middle of Indian summer.

A year ago I gave up trying to work in a job and a company that did not know what to do with me... and I haven't been able to do anything with my life since. Not study, not hold down a steady job (okay, I haven't even tried that), not write... nothing. I have lost a year, a whole year, completely and totally.

And I don't even see how it has made me a better person or something (isn't suffering supposed to do that to you? but maybe it doesn't work if it's just one's own obstinacy and fear that causes it?).

I am tired. Tired of not knowing what to do with my life. Tired of not finding a place to belong in; my place, my task. Tired of the mountains of fear that I cannot shake off.

So tired.

Two more days of good intentions and absolutely zero results. Oh, except for some particularly nasty dreams of insects and spiders (it seems that even the genius of "A Deepness in the Sky" could not take away my arachnophobia). Tomorrow I am going to work at the old school again, and just in case I don't think I will sleep tonight (I did get up after four pm today, so it's not that bad).

Not that I feel like going. The money is a must, but - after all - I did not do many other useful and obligatory things today, either. I even missed my psychiatrist's appointment by coming up with a fever, which I am pretty sure was psychosomatic.

But I promise it won't stop me from calling her and trying to get a new appointment, as it has done before. I promise. And I will go to work tomorrow, no matter how hard it feels.

It snowed today - a real snowfall that even stayed on the ground and in the trees for a while. It was quite surreal, since there are quite a lot of leaves in the trees yet, and the ones in the big ash in our yard are mostly green, even. I hate it - it should not be this cold yet.

Sometimes I wonder why we bother - as a nation, that is. Who were the ancient lunatics who thought that this bit of forest and fell was somewhere to live in? This is clearly not a place for decent people... And even then, despite all the dark and the cold, the nature of this land is in my blood and bone, and I could not live anywhere else. I don't particularly care about the people, but without these woods and lakes and rocks, the summer nights of living green and milky glass, the Christmas mornings of stars and lights and diamond snow, the pale flames of birches in the autumn sun, the living trunks of pines in early March ...I would die like an uprooted tree.

Take me to a forest, no matter how small, and my skin dissolves and my nerves go straight into the life around me and suck it up. I become one with it, and it becomes very hard not to see it as conscious, at least in some way. I don't make much noise about it, because it sounds too New Age-ish, but it is true nonetheless. I found the same kind of reverence for nature in Tommi's vision of the Goblin Marshes, and it was one of the main reasons why I loved those games so much.

(Though I wonder about Paris. It's not the same - quite the opposite in fact - but it has a spell of its own that is so strong and deep and alluring that it might almost replace the song that binds my heart here. Not that I will ever find out, I suppose.)

Hm. I am rambling, and in purple prose, too. Back in line, girl! And I am really beginning to hate doing this in English. I suppose it is too late to change, though.

I finished "A Deepness in the Sky" and enjoyed it just as much as the first time. Now I have no idea in which story to bury myself next. This is not good. (I have, however, managed to introduce some people to some stories: I got Inka into reading Strangers in Paradise and Paula into Bujold. Bad, bad me, leading others into temptation...)

No new developments in the physical shape department, either. I was feeling really energetic on Sunday evening. What dragged me down again?

Fear. It still rules me, and it's a dictatorship still.

I should make the home page more presentable. I wonder if that would give me some small sense of purpose.

13.10.02

The Myyrmanni bomb was no the sort of thing after which I felt like whining about my own lack of life.

I feel sorrow and anger for the children, mostly, and their parents. Killing one's own despair is one thing, but killing the hope that is in children... that is truly wrong. It's so wrong it makes me ill.

Anni and Lin had people over for singing practice on Friday and Saturday - Tuomas, Laura and Laura's boyfriend. I listened and envied. I can't carry a tune well enough to sing in many-voiced harmony, at least not without a lot of practice, which I have not had since senior high. On Friday evening, we had tentative plans to go to the movies, but everyone was more or less tired, so we just rented a couple of films. Sanna also came over to meet old friends.

There was only time to watch one film on Friday night, and unfortunately it was Mel Gibson in "What Women Want". I am not a fan of Gibson, and the film was awful. It was mean, illogically built and distinctly un-funny, and even though a lot of the supporting cast was good, Helen Hunt was terribly miscast and Gibson was a total embarrassment. Only three of us suffered the whole movie through; the rest gave up a different stages of the misery.

As so many people were staying over, Sanna slept in my bed, and even though we tried to go to sleep early, we ended up having a long talk about life, our respective childhoods, therapy and several mutual acquaintances. It was actually rather refreshing.

I had several good plans for Saturday, but none of them actualized. I just pottered around and followed the Myyrmanni bomb news on TV and the net. Besides, after they'd had enough of singing, Anni and Lin were just as tired and bored. We watched the film left over from Friday, "Panic Room", with which I was also less than impressed. It was far more watchable than the Gibson horror, but considering that it had Jodie Foster in it, and was supposed to be a suspense film, I expected more. The suspense didn't catch me, and it seemed irritatingly formulaic (the neurotic-but-brave mother, the diabetic daughter, the three caricatures of robbers...). Afterwards, we helped Anni make some pies for dinner and then continued the movie binge, watching "First Wives Club" on TV (I'd never seen it). It was mildly amusing, in the same way "Panic Room" was mildly interesting.

I was a little regretful that I didn't go to the AE/Greywolves/ORC party on Saturday night - it might have been nice - but I couldn't gather up the energy or the courage. I would have been afraid of a lot of the people there for starters, and since getting myself to look presentable is so difficult nowadays, I would have had a double mountain of fear to climb over. If I had accomplished that, I might have had a good time, but I just could not get to the proper mountain-climbing mood to find out.

It would have been worth it to see Jukka, at least, as he couldn't arrange for transport to see me on Friday. Well, perhaps next week.

Today, I slept later than I needed to - as could be expected, since of course I was a little low about missing the party (no matter that it was my own choice). I got up in the afternoon and spent most of the day reading the new chapter of Cassandra Claire's latest Harry Potter fanfiction. I must say I can't see why her stories are so immensely more popular than some other writers' (whom I already mentioned in passing). She does write well - with very nearly professional competence, in fact - but her characterizations are off. Okay, she may be single-handedly responsible of starting the "Draco Malfoy is a misunderstood hottie" school, but that does not make it any less unbelievable. It's just as out of character when she writes it, no matter how well it is done. And fangirls even translate her stuff into Finnish and Russian and German! (Fangirls having fangirls - doesn't anyone find this scary?)

Just to be clear about this: I think she is very talented, and I admit to reading her net diaries for their wit and spirit. I just prefer Lori's and Ebony's stories to her Draco chronicles. I wonder how much of her fan base comes from the Very Secret Diaries of the Fellowship of the Ring? Those I actually find truly funny, as they satiricize the slash phenomenon (which is just utterly, completely baffling), and do it in a respectable pastiche of Helen Fielding's Bridget Jones style. Saruman's diary is probably my favourite.

Paula and Petri came over in the evening, and we made dinner. I don't think I've eaten that well since last Christmas - fillet of elk, wedge potatoes and sweet carrots. I wish I could put as much time and effort into cooking as they do, but I simply don't find it worth it except for parties. Then we watched Moulin Rouge!, which Petri had never seen and Paula had only watched on a small computer window. Best movie experience of the weekend, by far. Paula and I went to the sauna, and then I drove them home.

I must say I like Paula more and more with time (as my own fear of people gives in, so that I actually have a chance to know her). She is so down-to-earth and good-natured and cheerful that a few hours in her company are like a fresh breath of air, and above all, sensible perspective. If that is the effect she has on Petri as well, I am really happy for my brother.

(And I hope I didn't embarrass us both too much by saying this.)

I decided today that no matter what happens, I am not going to feel guilt over getting myself into shape. It may be less important to some than money or studies, but it will make me feel better about myself.

(And no, I did not get this idea from Juki's weblog... Why are they called weblogs anyway? What is the difference to a web diary?)

I was a good girl and filled the application for the location of the SuoLi annual meeting and the live-action game that will be connected to it. Kalle will fax it tomorrow, so we should be all set. I still need to call the place tomorrow to ask whether it will be okay for some people to stay there overnight.

I have an idea for a larp which everyone keeps saying I should make real. I will, seriously, except I want it to be so good and so big that I want more practice first - after all, I haven't written that much for larps despite having played in so many. I guess I should dig up those smaller plans I've had for quite some time.

Provided I can find enough energy to do anything for real.

We'll see.

I'm rereading "A Deepness in the Sky". It's amazing that anyone can write spiders as something I can identify with!

10.10.02

Aleksis Kivi day. For some reason it stings sharply that I am not teaching today, nor do I know when I might be. And I am surprised at the sting.

This evening has born a strange resemblance to a state of having a life.

I read altogether too late last night (I remember being awake when someone had a shower before five am) and fell asleep with the lights on. I still can't remember my dreams, which is a bother. Lin came to bang on the door at half past two, and I managed to use that momentum to get up and get moving. I had a tea-and-talk date at six, so I dragged myself under the shower and then started on my emails.

I almost didn't make it to the meeting despite being up and about, as all hell broke loose on suoli-list: one of the members of the SuoLi board didn't want to accept the decision that we had already made on where to hold the yearly general meeting - in or near Helsinki - and had taken it to job to maneuver it into Oulu with the local larp association (in whose board he also sits). Now, I have nothing inherently against having the meeting in Oulu - though when this was under discussion at the board meeting I argued for Helsinki, since most of the members are here, and we really need new people for the board and other responsibilities. No, the main problem is the fact that Tapio behaves as if there was no decision made on this, and even if there was, that he could change it simply by being the most vocal member of the board in public. And when I answered the mails on the general list, stating - as the PR person of the association - that there was a clear decision on where to have the meeting and the game associated with it (even if the game was not yet decided), Tapio answered my mail as if I was only giving my own opinion on the matter - which blatantly was not the case. I was acting as a public information officer.

I can see some points on his behalf, mainly uncertainty on whether there was a suitable game to be had in connection with the meeting, and whether I was going to see the matter through - but the proper way to find that out was not on the public list (and he didn't ask, just made assumptions). He could have just asked me in private. Well, he did, actually, and I reminded him that we had decided not to take the meeting to Oulu or elsewhere away from Helsinki, and he simply did not listen to me. I suppose the situation was a little unclear, as I could not be at the meeting on Sunday - but I thought after the negotiation Tiia and I had on the phone, it was clear that I was still taking care of the matter. I didn't know that for some, it wasn't.

But still, it made me livid to see a member of the board to get so far out of line.

However, we have a game - The Bar III - and a place, and it should do now.

So I went to town to sit down and have a cup of tea (or several) and a chat with Antti, and managed to have a nice time despite the above. I guess I received enough of an explanation of his motives to stop suspecting something sinister and to just accept that he might plain like me. Or at least I'll try to... I haven't been used to people liking me lately. Nor do I trust it to last.

I came to a realization about this yesterday, when not only had Vera asked for more diary entries, but Anu emailed me to ask me for coffee and a chat. It should delight and flatter me that someone wants to get to know me better ...but all I could think of was how I would so much prefer that kind of attention from the people I used to know and be friends or at least acquantainces with. People such as the folks at Pihlajatie, or in Turku.

God. Saying that was hard.

And now I've been sitting here for quite a while, trying not to cry.

Why do I always want the caring of those with whom it is the most improbable, the hardest to earn? Why can't I just accept that people lose interest or realize they were not compatible even on a casual friendship level? Why can't I accept that I am too much work for many?

Because I never stop caring. I don't let go of people, not in my heart. I can see that I haven't really done much active work to keep those friendships alive, for my part, but that is not because of lack of caring - only because of lack of self-confidence. If people want to have me in their life, I suppose they will make it known. Wouldn't they? How could I just expect them to be amenable to my demands on their time and effort?

I don't know. I have lost so many people. They don't seem to want to stick, and knowing me, I guess it is no surprise. So I don't trust any new people to stick either, and so trying to form new friendships becomes almost intolerably hard. Building up a human relationship is a lot of work as such, and if one cannot trust the result...

This is not to say I won't accept Anu's invitation. I will.

But it is hard.

On a more positive note: I wonder if I should put up a guestbook, after all. I noticed a few unexpected people had been reading my diaries (consider the Nexus panic dealt with, Emilia :)). It would, I suppose, make it easier for people to comment - it seems that writing separate emails is too complicated. But a guestbook reeks so much of... (all together now:) putting oneself forward...

And there were some even brighter stars on my sky today: Jukka sent me a text message, having read these pages and having been suitably impressed with the page dedicated to him :), and it seems I am forgiven for missing our date on Tuesday. He's coming to see me tomorrow afternoon. And Paula asked if she could help with going to the bank and all the other unpleasant office matters. I think I'll take up the offer as soon as I have gathered up the courage to commit to something so decisive.

On the other hand, I am quite convinced that my sister the lion is mad at me, again.

Damn. I want a relationship. I am so tired of being alone. But as things stand, what could I have to give anyone - if I can't interest people even as a friend, how could I interest anyone as a lover? And where would I even find anyone I wouldn't already have considered and passed (either for my part or for theirs)? Where's the singles board for desperate female larpers with no lives, too many emotions, too many self-doubts and fifteen extra kilos they are quite willing to drop for some gorgeous younger man who will addict them to the sex and then treat them indifferently, so that they can dedicate themselves to self-sacrifice?

Bah. Self-deprecation is not attractive, unless you happen to be Bridget Jones, which I most certainly am not. Unfortunately, it is not something you can just drop off at the second-hand store, no matter how happy it would make the giver. It's not a matter of decision. If I am not attractive, how could I suddenly just decide I am, any more than I could suddenly decide that the sun is blue and the sky is yellow?

But it is terribly hard to admit that one is ordinary and unattractive. Easy to say it in such situations where other people cannot but argue against it, out of sheer good manners... but to truly admit it?

I think this will be enough of that now.

9.10.02

The downward spiral continues.

Today, I had the most baffling experience of someone emailing me and asking for more diary entries. I can't say it isn't flattering - of course it is - but mostly it is simply incomprehensible. It's not like my life provides for adventures and entertainment, not even on a weekly basis, far less daily...

The reason for no writing for a few days again is simply that there is nothing to write about. And even more - I am ashamed. I don't want to admit that despite the glimmers of hope, I still cannot take care of the most vital, most urgent matters. The more urgent they become, the more desperately I hide under my pillow, in my dreams. I have planned on going to the bank and the department store where I've got the credit card to take care of the money matters for a week and a half now - almost two weeks - and I still haven't. It's now so bad that I cannot get up and go to town even to meet with people I've agreed to meet, because that would mean there is no excuse not to go and deal with these things as well.

All I do is escape into sleep.

And I know this cannot go on forever, but even that doesn't help.

Today I emerged into the world from under the covers at half past four in the afternoon. I was supposed to deal with all that money stuff AND send loads of emails AND make several phonecalls AND be at Tommi's place by three. Well, obviously plan A wasn't to be, and plan B consisted of the same old sh*t: reading, watching TV, surfing the net. The same as yesterday, and the day before. And last night I even went to bed around midnight, so I should have been able to get up. I didn't.

I'll continue later. I think.

6.10.02

Couldn't drag myself to the meeting. Sent Tiia a message and went back to sleep. She called later, and we worked some things out.

Had a long chat with Kalle, which we haven't done in ages. Good.

Watched the extras on the FOTR DVD and got a terrible longing for fantasy and the forest - in other words, the Goblin Marshes larp world. Called Tommi and talked a bit... even mentioned the longing, and he didn't take it the wrong way. Very good.

There were people here for roleplaying. I felt rather like an outsider, but that was really nobody's problem but mine. Besides, I was supposed to be in that meeting anyway.

I have so many plans. But how could I begin implementing them, when there are so many unfinished matters to deal with...?

Mailing lists provide almost as unbearably exquisite a view of human stupidity as Finnish radio advertising.

5.10.02

Haven't written in two days, mostly because there is nothing to write about. I keep feeling tired, numb and powerless. This is the stage that comes after trying to start something - the hopelessness that strikes when one has tried, really tried, and had a moment of hope, and then expects and needs positive feedback to keep the momentum, and there is none. So one just falls back into the black hole.

This is why I said I didn't want to talk about hope or the future after going to the psychiatrist. It's not going to lead into anything anyway.

Anni and Inka were in this historical live-action game today; Kalle was supposed to be in it as well, but was down with the flu. I never even applied - I am not too interested in nineteenth-century Finland, and I thought it would be full too soon anyway (ie. I was afraid). It might have been fun anyway, at least to play again. Anni came home with Sanna, and it seemed they at least had a really good game (they said they probably had the two most dramatic and angst-filled characters of the whole lot). We talked a little about this and that, but now everyone needs to sleep.

Lin and a few other people are down in the home theatre, watching films. I had to choose between From Hell with them and Kama Sutra on the TV, and I ended up picking the latter, because it got really good reviews, but it didn't really hold my interest. Gorgeous costumes and other visuals, though.

There was this less-known film with Marilyn on TV today, Don't Bother To Knock. I didn't see it quite from the beginning, but it did what Kama Sutra couldn't - kept me watching. Or Marilyn alone did. She is amazing. I have always liked her and sympathized with her (no surprise - after all, she was broken and in desperate need of love, too), and I've always considered her acting talents underestimated.

Board meeting tomorrow. Scared. So, nothing new.

2.10.02

According to a test on D&D character that has been floating around lately, I am a Neutral Good Elven Bard Mage. Heh.

Very, very tired day. Nothing much. Felt sleepy and frustrated about everything. It may be a side effect of the medication; it generally is at the start.

Lin came home, and lots of people have been around to keep her spirits up. The shoulder operation was easier than expected, but she is still going to be convalescing for quite some time. I hope she'll be sensible and ask for help when she needs it.

The only plus for today: I bought some vitamins when I dragged myself to get some food. My hair is in terrible condition, and I desperately need energy. (An easy fix for that would be to go out with the dog more often... but as I said before, that is far too dangerous an opportunity for thinking, and thinking must be avoided at all costs. My thoughts would be altogether too unpleasant to be borne.

I also put up a tentative larp experience page, though I am not at all happy with it. I try to tell myself that it is the information that matters and not the form in which it is presented, but it isn't that straightforward. The form affects the ease (or non-) of the reading quite a lot. Besides, I am not happy with the information content either.

1.10.02

Yes, I know my dates are the wrong way round for the English-language norm. I just put them that way in the beginning and forgot about it. And besides, those few unfortunate souls who read this are Finns anyway.

So. October is here and the colour contrasts are blinding and extremely satisfying. And I still don't have a life, despite some apparent progress. Again, I'm spending my time on nothing while actively avoiding even the smallest of jobs - whether things I've set for myself, or duties.

I was supposed to get up early and go to town, to arrange for the payment schedules of some debts. Yeah, sure. I didn't get up even when Anni came home after ten from those two hours of work she's got on Tuesday mornings, had weird dreams which I irritatingly forgot at once and got up somewhere around two with a headache and an upset stomach. Anni had taken a nap as well, but gradually we worked through waking up and having lunch and got to baking a chocolate cake for Kalle.

Anni made the actual cake while I watched "Boston Public", a TV series about a high school. I suppose it is the same for me as watching a hospital series is for an actual doctor: lots of laughs that probably were not intended, lots of headshaking. I don't think the series is a bad as it could be, though, and I wish it would run at a better hour - the subject matter deserves it. No-one appreciates teachers anyway, but I can dream, can't I?

When Anni left for swordfighting practice, I made the frosting for the cake and filled it. We didn't get to sit down and eat it until around nine, when everyone had arrived home from various activities. The cake was heavy and delicious, and we drank tea and coffee and chatted about games (I tried to ask about Kalle's first day in a new job, but he said he hadn't done much else yet than talked about a Werewolf campaign he and Inka both play in), the future of communal living, and Lin's shoulder surgery, which was today. We need to sit down like that more often.

Later in the evening, Ene came by and said that Lin's operation had gone well (or at least in the normal manner for such operations). I'm glad. She was a little nervous beforehand, and anaesthesia is never without its risks. She'll be home tomorrow, and Ene will stay here for the first days to be her nurse.

I didn't get my phone opened today yet, though Mom was worth her promise and paid the bills. They said they needed to see the money transfer before it would be okay, so I have to wait until Thursday at least.

This country proved again how small it really is. An acquaintance sent an email to a list I read, saying that a bridal couple wanted to rent Finnish historical costumes for their wedding attire. I sent a text message to the groom's phone, offering my wine-and-blue costume for consideration, but I had to do it on Kalle's phone. They tried to call me back yesterday, when I was not in the same location with Kalle and the phone, and finally got me this evening. It turned out that the bride knows my brother quite well through the folk music circles and also knows me slightly - we used to go to the same church youth group ages and ages ago. She is coming to check the costume on Friday.

Today, I made a google search on my own name, just to check what is out there. I found a net diary I have not read before, in which I was mentioned a few times, not in any very significant connection. One of these mentions concerned a live-action game. The author described her satisfaction of playing with me, which was quite nice, but one of her reasons was that I "don't trash much". Now, to my understanding, to trash means to "not be properly in character", to "not play seriously", to "spoil the mood by being (slightly or completely) off-character". And I got to wondering about that "much". I was not aware I trash at all, ever, and certainly not that I did so in that particular game. So what was it? Was there something about my gaming style that did not fit the game concept or her idea of it? Was is so off-key stylistically?

Gah. Now I am all paranoid about it. If there is something in myself that I am proud of, it is my dedication to getting inside the head of a character and into the world of a game...

Oh. I remember now. My character information was lacking in things that my character would absolutely have known and that I absolutely came to need right about the time when I did business with this other character. The GM had to get it, and it took quite some time, during which I did not feel too natural being in character, since it was information that my character knew already, but in the real world, we had to wait for it to come to me. Was that "trashing"? Should I have tried to cover the wait somehow? I suppose so, but I just did not see any realistic way to do it in character.

Have to pay attention to that in the future.

I wonder if I could manage to dentist tomorrow, before this quarter of a split tooth falls off.

The cat came to usurp my lap. Time to stop writing. But at least I broke the every-second-day cycle.

Oh, I finally watched Amelie on Sunday evening. It really was very sweet, though naturally not as good as all the hype had led me to expect (but considering the amount of hype, nothing could really be as good). Lovely, anyway. But the biggest emotions I got simply from the fact that it was situated in Paris, which I miss dreadfully. I only spent a week there, and I still pine for it, especially now that it was almost exactly a year ago. It was... indescribable. It was Paris. It was all the cliches and more, but the cliches are just that because it is what it is - unforgettable.

I tried to put my feelings into words then, though probably no very well. Supports my theory that I only write when something confounds me totally.