nighteyes' personal LJ

"Seuraavan saapumiserän palvelukseenastumispäivään 11.01.2010 on enää 4 aamua."

Menkää ja tehkää historiaa vittu älkääkä ainakaan tulko ennen aikojanne kotiin niin kun jotkut (se käy enemmän kipeetä entä rakot ja pakkasenpuremat, believe me).

Että sinne vaan, aamuja. (Multa kun tulee niin tossa ei oo normaalia vittuilua, vaan enemmänkin reilu annos jäätävää kateutta.) Mä istuksin jossaki nurkassa ja hypistelen ampumataito- ja uimakunniamerkkejäni ja pidän long-distance huolta että ootte vitun kovia. And I'll hold you to that.


- M.


P.S. Voihan vitun vittu.

HAPPY NEW YEAR, PPL. Many hearts, flowers, rainbows, stars, white ponies, glittery things, and cotton candy to all of you. May all of your 365 days of year 2010 be filled with joy and laughter and merriment of all kinds.

The latter of the long sentences, I meant from the bottom of my old, wrinkled heart. The first... not so much. (Not a big fan of heart-shaped things, glitter, or white ponies myself, you see. Though nothing's wrong with cotton candy [insert unattractive drooling].)

Now that that's been said *rubs hands together* let us move onto other things.

Firstly, OH BOY was it a nice holiday. Some proof to support that is the fact that I'm even more exhausted now than I was before the hols began; a sad, but re-occuring thing, that. Christmas went very traditionally, though Gran and Ukki only hung around for some three hours in the evening or something like that, which was a tad disappointing- - WAIT, wait, hold on a second, what?! Can't believe it, am I really, honestly sorry that I got to spend too little time with Granny?? Oh, so evidently, she's not always that insufferable. Hmmm. (Although, in all honesty, she really isn't. I love her a bunch, but at times - very often - she just gets on everyone's nerves magnificently, and with my quick temper... y'know.)

Well, then New Year. Alright, so maybe last year was a bit more grand, that is, 2008-09. More people, bigger place, more alcohol, more drunk ladies. Granted, it was a combined New Year/18th birthday party, so maybe that had something to do with it, but still, last year was in every way more major. Not that I mind. This year (or, technically, last - or, technically, both) was a lot of fun, too, I'm totally not saying it wasn't! Although Emppu did her best to make the whole evening go south (well, maybe it wasn't her intention, but she very nearly succeeded all the same to be sure), in the end, we had great fun. We even had fireworks! Doing fireworks while drunk is crazy, I know. Not running a bit further away from them after lighting the fuse is even crazier. Then again, if I only could, I would live off of adrenaline, and I'm a bit stupid in the head anyway, so yeah. Worry not, though, I made sure the sensible lady people were standing a good distance away from the danger zone, however, as I'm not entirely an idiot. And I love my friends, and would very much like to do all in my power to keep them every bit as alive as they are, so. Yeah.

Have you guys ever noticed how the titles of my entries almost never have anything to do with the contents of said entry? How intriguing!

Eija's (cipatctli - hope I got it right this time, bb!) going away party is on Thursday. I will attend, regardless of silly things like work - having to wake up at six on Friday morning is in no way a hindrance, more like an annoying factor to be considered while planning said evening. Like, I need to go by car in order to make it home in the middle of the night, and that makes it impossible to drink, and, so, you get the picture. But fun shall be had for sure.

AND OH MY GOD GOING AWAY PARTY MEANS, WELL, THAT SOME GOING AWAY WILL BE TAKING PLACE! Bloody hell, like Jo from work would say. Bloody bloody hell!

I want to go, too. (Please take me with you? ... no?)

In addition to thingies mentioned previously in this post, I have recently also:

1) freaked out,
2) hung around with Salla and Boyfriend, who's visiting,
3) gone clubbing,
4) decided I want myself a tattoo asap,
5) dyed and cut my hair (nothing too special),
6) exercised. A LOT. Adrenaline rocks my socks, but endorphins pwn as well. (I managed 32 push-ups today! Without warming up! I've got more muscle than I did in the army! Even though, I can clearly feel the loss of the physical stamina, I mean, I'm sure my result would be at least 100-200 meters less in a Cooper's test today than it was back when I was in the army. Sad.)
7) had many weird impulses. Gladly, I haven't acted on almost any of them, but still, I wonder. If I didn't know better, I'd say I'm pregnant.

With that, good night,


- M.

It's not like I thought I was over it, not at all, but until yesterday and today I thought I had... made some progress, at least. But today it hit me again like a two-by-four, the sick feeling that makes me want to hide under my bed covers until the day I die, and not to talk to absolutely anyone ever again, or at least not to look anybody in the eye. It creates this hollow feeling in the general vicinity of your stomach, and gives you a lump in your throat and the tears caused by this feeling burn the most. It's also called 'shame'.

I've always had a healthy amount of respect for myself. To lose 99 percent of it all of a sudden is not a laughing matter. Once again, I'm not kidding. I don't think I ever will joke about this, or laugh about it; if not maybe in twenty years from now, at the earliest. I also know no one is interested in listening to my crying over this heartbreak anymore; I don't exactly ask it of anyone, because I know it's in human nature not to have the strength to care to listen to someone else going on about one issue for ages.

Again, thank God for LJ. A place in which I can write whatever I wish, and thus relieve some of the ridiculously colossal feeling of shame and self-disgust I carry inside of me. I've never in my life resented myself this much before. I've also never in my life exercised this much; and there is what you can call cause-and-effect. I totally acknowledge the fact that I torment myself physically only because of the futile hope that it will make me feel a bit better about the failure that is me. The pain in my back and all of my muscles provides me with the ability to try and assure myself that I'm not all that I've tried my best not to be and have feared the most that I'll turn out to be: a weak, worthless, lazy coward.

I'm also simultaneously in the middle of the mother of all identity crises. I failed at a thing I sought to do because of a part of my personality that defines a hell of a great deal of me - what to do now? I can't think of myself as a strong person anymore; I tell you I've tried, but I am simply not capable. Hell, I've had dreams in which I've been sitting in the middle of a dark room (I've had these dark room dreams before, by the way, as long as I can remember; loads of different things happen in there) in a spotlight and one random person close to me's been cirling around the chair I sit on and been telling me in detail and length what a quitter I am. Sick, innit?

I feel even less worthy than the most unworthy person I have ever met. I feel even less of a tough person than the weakest, most thin-skinned and sensitive person I know. There are times when I can't look Dad or Grandpa or Ukki in the eye. There are times when I would like to tell some funny story from my army times in a suitable situation, but don't, because I didn't finish my service; I quitted, so I have no right to. Or that's what it feels like. It makes me sick to feel this worthless; to feel this freaking WEAK. Weak is the very last adjective I'd ever wish to be described with - something I've pretty much always sought not to be.

I am seriously messed up.




- M.

Up until yesterday I thought I was Quite The Loser.

I mean, firstly, and most importantly, I had Quit Military Service. Ouch, you know. Self-loathing. Depression. Angst. Longing. Self-esteem pretty much zero, if not less. Secondly, I Still Hadn't Got Myself A Goddamned Job. Fail, Miia, fail (I mean, yeah, well, I've been looking for one for two weeks or something along the lines so it's not quite that much of a failure yet, I'd guess, but still). Thirdly, I realized I'm 'losing' two-thirds of my closest personal relations, aka friends. 'Losing' here stands for not-hearing-quite-that-much-about-them-than-I-used-to and not-knowing-what's-up-with-them-for-most-of-the-time plus not-living-even-relatively-close-to-them-anymore. So, obviously, I was Quite The Loser, wasn't I.

Not to say that I don't think I am one at this very moment, but yesterday, I experienced a brief moment of self-pride the first time since leaving the Brigade 2+ weeks ago. Because yesterday I was not only very much of use at home, but also realized I wasn't a complete weakling as regards the physical state of things, and might get myself a job sooner or later. I cleaned up, I washed the dishes, I made dinner, I bicycled all the way to the gym and back, I got a reply to my inquiry on whether my au pair application had successfully arrived, which said that yes, it had indeed, and that they had taken a liking to me, and I saw Viivi, and the weather was fine. Yeah, sure, that's pretty much my average day, but what made the difference was that I just simply had so much energy that depression didn't fit into the picture. And it felt great. It sounds awfully clichéd, and it is, but I kind of... remembered who I am. Or who I'm supposed to be. Who I've been; somewhat silly, short-tempered, reckless at times, never turning down a dare, at times idiotic, with a good sense of humour. And, if you ask Mum - who is, I've to admit, very pragmatic - also absent-minded most of the time, but creative, and also pretty down-to-earth, regardless of what some people might say, and usually also very, very straightforward. I kind of like, recognized myself again.

And I laughed quite a lot yesterday. Funny - or not - but whenever I was at home for the weekend when I still was in the army, people kept telling me to laugh, because it was freaky that I didn't - providing that I'm supposed to laugh at every turn, normally. And I myself didn't even notice that I wasn't doing it. Mental, eh.

Anyway, it's not like I've yet come to terms with the fact that I am no longer a soldier, and possibly never will be again. I sure as hell haven't, and I found myself on the brink of tears when I received a wonderful letter from the girls a few days back, and... well. It's stupid, really. One can't change back time. One can't undo one's mistakes, if they are the kind that cannot be undone (don't even start with the idiotism of that sentence). I've made my bed, and I've got to lie in it, whether I'd prefer or not (and I wouldn't). So there.

Oh, and I made a decision. I'm applying to the Police College next summer. Providing I've gathered 10 months of work experience by August next year. I'm working on it.

It feels good to have goals again, after the losing the biggest goal I ever had. Oh, I just remembered what someone (can't remember who it was?) said to me when they heard about my future plans of study. It was, "So you wanna be a police officer? You do realize there aren't many more dangerous jobs out there, don't you?"

And what do you think I replied?

"That's exactly the reason, mate."




- M.

An August summer night
Soldiers passing by
Listening to the wind of change

The world closing in
Did you ever think
That we could be so close, like brothers?
- Scorpions / Wind of Change.


Right.

I'm not at all sure where to start. Or where I'm likely to end this entry. Or whether I'll ever make it that far, or just quit and shut the whole freaking machine down, and just... go do what I've done the last three days. That would consist of ignoring the stupid dull ache in my chest and burying it in meaningless, trivial stuff, like watching TV and driving aimlessly from place to place and playing PC games with Ville. Except that I can't do too much of the latter, because all of the games include guns and fighting and guns remind me... and then the stupid dull ache grows worse and the day is ruined.

You see, I've failed. There's no sense in trying to, y'know, cover it up or try to phrase it so that it'd sound nicer. It cannot sound any better. I've gone, I've messed up, and I've failed. Not the way I'd have thought, but yet I'm a failure and an idiot and I'll regret it until the day I die, and I'm certain that I pretty damn fucking straight will, I'm not exaggerating, thank you very much.

Shortly, I'm a civilian once again. In defence of myself I've got to point out that not - not - because any sort of a limit would've been reached, no. Not because I couldn't take it. Not because I broke or anything. But because, well, I screwed everything up for myself and, well, like in most cases when you're dealing with the Defence Forces, what's done is done and there's no turning back and 'we're sorry, but this is what you've been ordered to do, it's not our pain in the ass.' So, I was assigned to a task I seriously didn't want; a driver's job, 362 days. No fucking way, no way in hell.

Honestly, there were multiple reasons for this. Firstly, I wanted a corporal's insignia on my collar, thank you kindly, and that's something I wouldn't have got, were I to become a pitiful driver (and I would've still had to serve 362 days all the same! I mean, all NCOs serve 12 months, but at least they get something out of it, unlike the drivers). Secondly, let me tell you what is the best thing, above everything else, in the army. It is the team spirit, the not-leaving-you-behind atmosphere. And that's something that the drivers don't have among themselves. Thirdly, all of the friends I made will go to AUK, or somewhere; I had absolutely no friends at all in the 81 guys that were to become drivers, and was not likely to make any, because they all hated what they'd been told to do (much like myself) and couldn't have cared less. Moreover, a driver's job is not that of a real soldier's. They're not soldiers, not in the sense that everybody else is; all they do is drive, fix the vehicles, sit classes and sleep. Wearing uniforms, so that they look like soldiers, when in reality they're everything but. When real guys go on marches like 30k or 50k in full gear, or camp in middle of nowhere in the woods for a week, no chance of a shower or proper food, the drivers lazy about and nap back in the comfortable safety of their beds. After three days of lying about and trying to figure out something to kill the time with, and watching my dear friends come back from exhaustive training sweaty and dead tired, and feeling bad and unworthy because all I had done was sleep in class, eat, and sleep some more, I decided it wasn't worth it. It wasn't what I wanted to do; well, yeah, I knew from the start a driver's job was the last thing I wanted, and fell into quite a depression when I found my name on that list, but that was when I made the final decision that damn me if I would throw away my only chance of military service, completing it serving as a driver.

So I made what was easily the toughest decision I've made in my life, and came home. Swallowing tears all the way from 2nd Signals Company's Room No 16 to Kajaani's railway station (4k), and as depressed as ever, and disappointed, and angry. I left private Katila my playing cards, private Pirskanen my red Colt lighter (everyone kept asking me why I bought it, since I don't smoke; well, it's highly more useful when trying to light a fire on a rainy day than a box of matches!), private Kärnä my Compeeds, private Seppälä all the candy I had left (I'd snatched so much from her at that point that it was only fair), private Heikkinen my painkillers and private Tanskanen my blousing garters (quite worn already, but they had sentimental value - and anyway, people keep misplacing them all the time, so she'll be needing them sooner or later).

Anyway, it feels like... like grieving a lost friend, or a little more distant family member, or something. No, I take that back - it feels precisely like what it is: grieving a dream lost. A dream I'd had since I was fourteen or so. And it feels so bad it's almost ridiculous. I know it may seem a bit weird - or, a lot weird - to anyone and everyone that doesn't understand what it is that fascinates me about the whole thing, or the reasons why I went, but the grief because of a dream gone wrong and lost is something everyone can get, I'm positive.

The angst is especially bad in the evenings. I miss the girls terribly; I miss the guys almost as much; I miss all the awesome corporals we had, and some of the officers, and my narrow, squeaky bed, and my SAKO rifle, the model year 1986 (number 806033 - I'm sure I'll remember those six numbers for a loooong time to come) and my stupid boots that didn't fit and waking up at 5.45 and being all exhausted and drained and pissed off 24/7. I just miss everything.

I'm going out with Viivi and some other dudes tomorrow night, to get some fresh air. And possibly get pissed. And then... unfold... and be generally unbearable. She'll probably regret having me sleep over quite a lot.

Anyway, good night. I'll update about everything else that's been and is going on, later. When I have time. (How laughable is that? 'When I have time', when all that I have right now is... time! Oh, it's the bitterness talking, ignore me, please...)

Oh, fuck, I'm swallowing tears right now. Damn it all to hell, damn it all to fucking hell.

Christ.



Love, and such,



- M.


Some day you'll return to
Your valleys and your farms
And you'll no longer burn
To be brothers in arms.
- Dire Straits / Brothers In Arms.

First things first: I am alive. Believe it or not - whether I believe it or not - I am very much alive. Like our Physical Education Officer said Friday morning, "No dead muscle tissue feels pain. Thus, this means you lot must be alive."

Alright, so we are.

I've never in the entire space of 19 years and a couple of months that has been my life been as scared as I was on Monday, 13 July. I was terrified. I didn't remember any of the reasons why I wanted to go - voluntarily - and spend the next 6 or 9 or 12 months away from home and from all the people I love, doing exhaustive and challenging and frustrating and sometimes meaningless stuff day after day after day. Wake up before 6 AM, eat only at predefined times, wear only what is permitted and leave only when allowed. And yet I went.

Not that I'd remember those reasons even now, because I don't. But in the mornings, when it's very nearly but not quite too much, I always ask myself two questions. One: Would I have, had I known what it'd be like, still come? And two: What else would I be doing for the next year, if I dropped out? As long as the answers stay as follows, everything is still okay. One: Yes, I would have, and two: Nothing (except maybe some work, but duh, it's pretty much as well).

I'm not saying it hasn't been a shock. It has, and one of the worst kind. The three first days were pretty much shitty. Bluntly, they sucked. Big time. I've to admit I've cried, once, out of home-sickness - which, by the way, I'm pretty near the world champion in - and every morning I question all my motives and reasons and everything. I mean, I know why I applied. I've listed all those endless reasons - that seemed pretty unfaltering at the time - in numerous places and numerous times. I've rechecked them later, in order to retain some of the self-confidence and self-assurance I once had (to very little avail). When the physical element of it has been nearly too large a burden, so that my accomplishing the tasks given has been a close call, none of those reasons have seemed valid in the slightest.

Because honestly, aside from being hard, it is also a men's world. It really is. No matter what pro-equality whining my saying this may cause, it is the truth - everything there has been designed for and run by men. That's quite alright, I mean, I get along with men at least equally as well as with women, if not better. Men are more down-to-earth, sensible, and comprehensible than women. You can get your head around them far more easily than women. They're more plain and their rules in social interaction are fairer and clearer than those of women, and that suits me fine. They mostly say what they mean. Granted, men can be every bit as evil in their own way as women, but at least one gets it when they do that (unlike when women do mean, because no one can make heads or tails out of it when girls turn evil. It's tricky to know when a female hates you, because she sure as hell in 99 out of 100 cases won't tell so to your face, which is sad, and confusing, to me). But sometimes even I (not the most womanly person in the world myself) wouldn't mind the occasional 5 spare minutes to brush my hair properly or to, like, file my nails in addition to merely clipping them... so I guess it's the small luxuries of civilian life that I miss the most, second to the people here at home of course. For instance, a decent mattress in my bed, a cool drink whenever I feel like it, wearing my hair free, wearing jewellery, wearing sunglasses... that kind of things, that one has had to give up.

So anyone wanna see Miia in uniform?

( private Maikkola )

What else... well, I've made a few new friends during the last two weeks, as might be expected. Of course, the women have become something of a tight-knit group, or at least something of a beginning of such a thing. Out of the ten women - girls, maybe, since I'm the third oldest of us and the oldest one is only a year my senior - in our company (Northern Finland Signal Battalion, 2nd Signals Company), five are very likable. Out of the other four, well... one is so full of herself that it's a real miracle she hasn't yet choked on her own marvellousness, one's philosophy on life is just light years from mine (plus, I cannot believe she's of age yet. I mean, naturally she is, but honestly... if I didn't know better, I'd have guessed she's something like 15 years old, max. She acts like a highly ignorant child, looks like one, and speaks like one) and the other two haven't exactly been breaking their backs to get to know anyone else, even though they are relatively friendly most of the time. So, it could be worse. And as long as everyone is acting civilly toward everyone else, it'll work.

The guys, on the other hand, have surprised me in a positive way. They've been incredibly decent, in fact, I can't even remember more than one occasion when any of the guys has said anything negative about the female soldiers... mostly they're just curious, or simply neutral toward us; or, better yet, kind. I'm increasingly grateful for it, because it's all getting tougher and tougher day by day, and it's only a fact that most of the women can't perform as well as the guys, myself included. What always makes me smile is when any of the men offer their help, e.g. when we have to carry something extremely heavy, and the most slightly built of us struggle, and grit their teeth, hissing, "I don't need help!" :D At least they've got some spirit.

So maybe this is enough about army this time. In a few hours' time I'm leaving to return to Kajaani, and on Friday I'm coming for a couple of free days again. Take good care 'til then.


Much love,



- M.

P.S.: Oh, and by the way, we went to see HBP on Saturday. I liked it.

I have never, never been this afraid before in my entire life.

It's like, up to this morning I have known for at least three years why I want to do this. And right now - none of it left. I have no idea why I want to do this. I mean, I know I know, really, but right at the moment all of my motivation and those well-thought reasons why I want to go have gone and disappeared. It's awful. I haven't even had any appetite today, and I even - it's ridiculous - I even cried a bit when I said good-bye to Salla earlier tonight.

Wish me luck, because I'll be needing it. And I'm not even kidding, not the smallest bit. I am fucking terrified, I am scared to death (and considering how immensely hard it is for me to admit that I'm afraid of something...). I think I'm going to die.

Think about it, in 24 hours' time... no, I don't even want to think about it.

My train leaves at 10 AM.

Oh, my God.


- M.

Posting pointless entries is simply too much fun.

And good stress-management.

Okay, let's check if everything's been taken care of and in order.

[x] Buy sports bras
[x] Have my i) call-up paper, ii) ID, iii) health insurance card, iv) vaccination record, v) account number ready.
[x] Buy a new toothbrush, toothpaste, deodorant, shampoo + face wash, and Compeeds
[x] Buy new sunglasses
[x] Charge my camera's battery
[x] Wash my dark green and black T-shirts
[x] Clip my finger nails short
[x] Buy painkillers + remember allergy medication
[x] Have the battery of my watch changed
[ ] Choose what one book I'm taking with me
[ ] Find the leather sheath of my Leatherman! Where can it possibly be?
[ ] Buy a hair comb!
[ ] Remember playing cards

Oh, and a few memes. Just to. Distract me.

( better shoot on sight )

I'm going to watch Coraline with Emppu today. Just to distract me further. Distractions, distractions, distractions. I just am not quite sure if anything can distract me anymore when I'm (most likely) drunk tomorrow night. You know, when drunk, I find it extensively difficult to distract myself from disturbing and uncomfortable thoughts. Much unlike everyone else.

Really now, it's ridiculous - it's my last civilian weekend in a long time. People, wish me luck.


Yours, nervously,


-M.

Not having a particularly nice evening, I've to say. Been thinking too much once again. Thinking's mostly a pain in the arse, it is.

Plus, I'm increasingly nervous. Suppose none of you has to ask why. When it's additionally one of those, these days quite rare, nights when my philosophical side takes over, it's not a pretty sight.

Firstly, I've yet again had to make myself clear on the matter of why, in fact, am I going to the army.

Well, let's get one thing straight at least. No matter what Lempi or some other old clueless hag or some flimsy superficial semi-friend thinks, I'm not going to Kajaani to, like, show off or get fit or get myself a goddamn man. (Or a woman, for that matter - some seem to be doing that, as well.) I'm going there because, well, sure, I want to see where my limits really are, and I'm sure it will be a most educational and hardening experience and help me grow as a person, but also because it's simply a way to give my contribution. Oh, granted, people keep saying that there's no war coming on or anything like that, but mostly, those are the same people that - in my most honest opinion (which I, thankfully, can freely proclaim in here), quite naïvely - think that the (Finnish) army's one and only sole purpose is to teach people how to kill other people. Because, honestly.

Firstly, (semi-)compulsory military service is Finland's only reasonable form of accomplishing national defence - like numerous people more knowledgeable on the matter than myself have said, a mercenary army is not an option for us. Secondly, it's not even near like the army didn't teach anything else than how to kill. Like, what about enduring hard stuff and getting something of a backbone, and knowing something in general about technical stuff, and learning teamwork and multi-tasking, and yes I guess learning some general stuff about weapons as well? I'm ready to leave all guns be and become a peace hippie the moment Lennon's imaginary world comes and everyone else on the planet haven't got any ammo either. Before that happens, I'll be glad to know as much about warfare and protecting what is dear to me as does anyone that's a potential threath to those. So there. Call me a militarist and a brute and a patriot. I am not much any of those; or, maybe as much of the last as the next person.

Not to digress... So, better yet are the people who appeal to my conscience on the matter; "under the imaginary circumstance that a war was to break out, how can you go and actually kill another human being? How can you do it?" First I simply answer, "with my Rk 62, of course," but the serious answer I usually give goes somewhat like this. Naturally I have yet to shoot an actual gun, not to mention getting myself in a situation where I would potentially have to harm someone with it - and heaven forbid I hope I never have to find myself in a spot like that - but I've got a philosophy about it. What I usually say to the people who point out the (far-fetched) prospect of actually having to kill another person - "and think about his (possible) wife and kids, too!" - is this. The reason why I suppose I could take someone's life - and get traumatised, guilty, and damaged as a result - is because that way I'd prevent them from taking the lives of my brothers-in-arms, and their wives and children, and probably the lives of other people I, and the inquirer love in the home front, as well. Put that way, it seems damn fair to me, at least.

Where another problem enter is that I did a political orientation test online. The result was as expected, but it made me think even more than I already had. My head actually hurts... not from the thinking (:D), I suppose, though, but from the... dunno... getting bothered about stuff and all. Because, arrgh. It's the very usual and clichéd "where is this world coming to?" issue. Because where is it coming to, really! It all interlaced with my military musings, and I ended up actually questioning myself: Why do I want go further than most of my gender and age to protect a country that is led by people that I didn't vote for, and that is going toward a direction almost entirely contrary to the direction I would want it to go? Because it is a damn good question. And it's not even the first time the thought has crossed my mind. This is one more reason why I think I was born in the wrong time, but let's not go into that now, or else this will turn out the craziest post since the beginning of time, or LJ.

Well the answer is quite obvious, and I already answered this question earlier, really. I may not like the political state we're in. I may present the almost exactly opposite political opinion than the people that run this country (or run it for the remaining time until 2011). But well, it's not like I'm only going to be trained to protect the right-wing Finns, is it. I love this country, and the citizens of Finland are my people, rightists or no. At the times when I feel like this country's gone all conservative and being led by fucking right wing extremists and overly rich fucks that have too much money and only pursue to keep as much of it as they can to themselves and to the devil with those poor whiners, I ask myself that if such a situation was to arise that someone threathened this country - including, naturally, them as well - what would I do? And I answer myself that I would go to war for them as well, because it is the right thing to do. You can't serve a country and be selective about its citizens. So, it isn't a problem, really, but... one has to have something to muse about, no?

Phew, what a rant. But I had to get it out of my system or else I'd very soon have done all sorts of nasty things.

Aside from the problems inside my head, there have been other problems outside it that have affected my evening negatively. Like poor Mum. Guess I already mentioned we're doing a mother-daughter trip to southern Finland next week. While in Turku we're going to visit a gentleman - some kind of -path or other - of Grandda's acquaintance, who may be able to do something about Mum's lower back. It's been really bad for the last two weeks - again - to the point that she can't sit nearly at all or stand for longer periods of time. It's really heart-wrenching - so much so that I actually, one late night in the solitude of my bed first cried for at least half an hour, and then actually prayed for her. Me. Yes. And I'm honest. Even more so because Mum's near the strongest person I know, and consequently doesn't complain much about it, even though each of us can see how much in pain she is. She even has a job where she has to mostly stand on her feet, for God's sake. And she absolutely hates to feel incompetent - which makes this all that much more unfair, and awful. The only time I've seen her cry in the space of the last year or so was a week ago when she had to ask me to help her put her plate in the dishwasher, because she couldn't bend, and then she surprised and shocked me by weeping a bit because she felt so useless, having to ask help. It was a dreadful day.

So I seriously hope she'll get some help from Turku. Because if she doesn't, I don't know what I'll do. Probably go into pieces. She doesn't want anyone's pity, but I'm not that good at masking mine; mostly I try to, and then let it all out in the blessed solitude of my bed in the darkness, when everyone else sleeps.

Okay, so. Man was this one in-depth post. Hopefully you're all very well. Continue to take care. I'll update once or twice before D-day; see you.



Love,



- M.

Suppose I should update as often as I can before, well, you know. Everyone knows. It's hardly possible everyone on my flist didn't already, considering the rants I've had about, well, you know. Bet you lot are quite fed up already. But, well. I think, if you're intending on keeping on reading my posts, you'll just have to get used to it, because there's no way those few times I get to update in the space of the next year or so it won't be mostly about, well, you know. (Then on the other hand, maybe it won't. Maybe I'm so fed up of it all myself that I won't mention well-you-know in so much as one sentence when I update in the future. Hmm. Remains to be seen, I'd wager.)

Anyway, time for a schedule I'd say!

( My July 1st through July 13th 2009 )

There's ABBA on the radio. Gimme! Gimme! Gimme! (A Man After Midnight). And I should go shower. (Yes, irrelevant, I know, thank you. Seems I can't bring myself to write about anything else than well, you know. ARGH.)

Figured because I already started on the topic I might as well carry on.

WHAT-TO-DO BEFORE JULY 13TH

i) Go underwear shopping.
ii) Manage 30 push-ups. I can do 25.
iii) Inform everyone that's interested, of the date of the visiting day and the oath.
iv) Exercise.
v) Practice making a very quick, very lasting bun with as few pins as possible.
vi) Buy stuff for the farewell party.
vii) CALM DOWN.

Honestly, this is more than ridiculous. Most of the time it's pretty okay, slight panic, yeah, alright, but I've taken on a habit of waking up in the middle of the night and, well, brooding. Because what if I end up like Disney's Mulan almost did? You're unsuited for / the rage of war / So pack up, go home /you're through?

I tell you, I'm NOT coming home!

At least, not before I'm supposed to.

- M.

This here, if I know myself even remotely well, will probably be The Lengthy Entry to rule all Lengthy Entries.

Firstly, of course, there is LONDON, also known as the UK trip. Didn't see that one coming, did you? :D Well anyways. To put it shortly, it was the perfect trip except for minor discomforts and getting ourselves in a bit of a trouble here and there (like locking ourselves out of our hotel room! Yep, that's Miia & Piia for you, alright). 'Minor discomforts' here refers to: 6+ blisters in both my feet, of which one abscessed, in spite of having four different pairs of shoes and changing them frequently in order to prevent said blisters (and the little fuckers kept coming regardless of my whole box of Compeeds!). Additionally, my leg muscles had some tough time as well, as did my skin (well it's not exactly my fault that I'm so pale and the sun ruthless; forgetting to apply sunblock, on the other hand, might be entirely my fault...). Oh, and not to even mention my poor (in every possible sense) wallet, it started to look quite anorectic toward the end of the journey, poor thing... and my (even poorer) bank account, too. :D

Anyway, we had the best time, despite all the physical obstacles that a) walking 5+ km every day in shoes that sure as hell were nowhere near any kind of trainers, b) the heat (at least 22 C, almost every day), and c) not having nearly enough to drink because kept forgetting to buy water, like I always tend to do abroad... might be due to the fact that I'm not exactly used to buying water. From a store. Like, not just filling up a glass from the tap. Lunatic. How can foreign people afford to eat if they buy their water, I wonder. :D Alright, it's not that expensive I guess, but... still... weird.

WHAT MIIA & PIIA SAW IN LONDON
- The British Museum
- The Victoria & Albert Museum
- The Natural History Museum
- Heathrow Airport
- Carnaby Street
- The entire Oxford Street (including Topshop flagship shop... AND Primark. Shivers.)
- Tate Museum of Modern Art
- Five or six different pubs, three of them twice or more
- Trafalgar Square
- Piccadilly Circus
- 10+ Tube stations
- Portobello Road Saturday street market
- Whiteleys, Harrods and Selfridge
- The Houses of Parliament, inc. Good Old Benny
- The London Eye
- Globe theatre, even though we didn't go in there
- Changing of the Guard + Buckingham Palace + Queen Victoria Memorial

WHAT MIIA & PIIA LEFT FOR NEXT TIME
- Tower
- Madame Tussaud's

Suppose y'all have already gone all, "WTF is this WERE ARE THE PICTURES??! Will she quit the babbling & get on with it!!" so here you go.

Warning, very picture heavy.

( Londinium! )

What else is up, lemme think... well, summer has finally wholly arrived! At first it seemed that it'd be the usual kind of Midsummer this year (= rainy & cold), but appears it wasn't... at least half so, the sun did shine yesterday! We had an awesome Midsummer party at Aino's; if you don't count poor Salla... and Kirsi, sleeping most of the night on the bathroom floor, but otherwise, I, at least, had the best time. Although, we still felt like missing something essential, because anthail wasn't there. If she were, she could have joined Henna and Anna and then they would have made the perfect Three Sober Musketeers.

Wonder where that idea came from.

Well then, there is naturally The Topic that I cannot seem to leave out of any entry these days. That is of course the Most Terrifying Matter Of July 13th, or, Miia's Self-Destructive And Brainless Idea, or, if you prefer, Military Service.

Yes. I am fucking nervous. I am fucking terrified, scared completely shitless. And somewhere in that small, persistent part of my brain that first thought of the whole idea at all, I am, in a twisted, sick way, undeniably excited. Which must mean that I am entirely off my rocker, as I have always reckoned. But still, 99 point 8 percent of me is frightened of the whole idea. 22 DAYS, GUYS, THINK ABOUT IT! Just... think. It's mindless, it's unbelievable. How can I possibly, in my wildest dreams think that I can by any chance achieve that? Me? There are so many reasons why I can not. My bad temperament, my tendency to question orders given, my back which is never quite right, my... my freaking long hair, even.

( yeah )

Oh, fuck. Fuckety fuck fucking fuckety fuck. How idiotic can a person possibly be?

Oh, dear.

Have a good day.



- M.

Merry Mayday, everyone. Referring to the title: yeah, yeah, been watching Mulan. :D

( meme goodness )

I've come up with two possible future career choices for myself so far. They are,

1) Indiana Jones,
2) an Auror.

Both are equally absurd, yes, and exactly what I'd like to do and could picture myself doing for the next ~35 years. I just fear that in the end, I'm going to end up the same as my ex-Finnish and home class teacher back in comprehensive school upper classes - she wanted to be Indiana Jones as well, and ended up a Finnish teacher. Nothing wrong with Finnish as a language or a school subject, no, but the teaching part... to put it bluntly, there may never have been a more un-teacher-like person than myself on this particular planet. I don't have the patience required, nor the capability of spending the rest of my life in a freaking class room and smiling about it. I mean, the other possible alternatives, as far as future careers go, that have crossed my mind have been along the lines of a police officer and a regular soldier - the more dangerous, the better, it would seem... like I often say, I'm not exactly an academic. Which is precisely the reason why I will seek to do everything in my power not to end up a life-long student, that is, never actually graduating and moving on to the working life... like some people, those that get into university and decide to never leave. No, come hell or high water, I'm most definitely something entirely else.

And still I finally applied to university the day before yesterday. Figured it wouldn't do me any harm to apply, even though I'm not actually intending to start my studies coming fall - no, coming fall will most probably find me lying in a tent somewhere in the endless forests of Finland, freezing to death and wondering how crazy I actually have to be to lie there sneezing, hungry and exhausted - voluntarily. Anyway, I'm having entrance exams to the University of Tampere on the 5th and 8th of June; Faculty of Social Sciences, first political science and then three days after that, the actual thing I'd like to study, journalism. Yeah. It'd be nice. If I ever got in, that is, and decided that settling on a job that doesn't involve me carrying a gun (and fighting bad guys :D) was still good enough... well, we'll see.

It hit me today like a ton of bricks with a cherry on top that guess what, dear me, in fourteen days you can once again add another year to your age. How dreadful, really.

Ice hockey (Finland vs. Slovakia!) is on TV tonight - in an hour, to be specific. Dad asked me if I would watch WALL-E with him after the match. :'D Said it was already too long since the last time... I have the most adorable father ever, hands down...

Well then, good night, sleep tight, and don't let... anything... bite. Unless you want them to. (Cough.) Yeah...


- M.


P.S.: My eldest cousin, Sakke, whom I used to hate, left today after staying for two days. You guys should have seen his reaction to seeing my call-up paper. xD "WTF? THE ARMY? YOU? But army's meant for men!" To which I: "One of the reasons why you won't ever do military service, I assume." (He's expression said it all: 'Ouch!') Yeah, so we had a heated argument, but I enjoyed it a great bunch... haha.

So, umm, where to begin...

We - me, Riikka, Kaisa, and Aino, a.k.a four-sixths of the infamous Group X (as our little gang is usually most affectionately referred to) - got back from The Easter Trip some seven or eight hours ago. Like predicted, the trip was the best. Of course, small quarrels can never be avoided, which is only natural, and all in all I personally think we had way less arguments - or rather, disagreements - than I would've imagined. So, it was awesome.

( a most detailed (or not) description of The Kannonkolo Journey, or There And Back Again, by myself (sorry, Bilbo) )

And my craving to travel to Lapland nothing but grew there. So close, but yet so far - Kuusamo isn't exactly that far up north...

As some people may already have noticed, I've updated my user profile a little. It looked like it seriously needed some redecorating, so that's what I gave it, for lack of better word... actually, I only finally gave it some content! I also renovated my interests list.

What then... well, today I additionally pieced together/built a new drawer Dad and Mum had bought during my absence, helped Dad with some stuff, argued with Ville (and it was only two hours since my home-coming...), read and replied to quite a pile of e-mail I'd received during the past week, and semi-emptied my bag.

I seriously should apply to universities already. The time's really running out. Oh, and I'm having the army interview/medical check-up/info occasion on Thursday. Yes, I am excited. Yes, I am also scared like hell. On Wednesday the School Gang in going to get together for Disney cartoons, which is highly fitting so I won't get the chance to freak out that night, because of the call-up thingy occasion event on Thursday... (it takes eight whole hours, by the way! We get coffee and lunch and all. No one can say the Defence Forces hasn't got style.)

I'm dozing as I'm writing, so I'll willingly call it an evening and go to bed now. G'night, y'all. It's nice to be back.



- M.

P.S.: To recall it later, I'll add one of the undying wittiness we came up with on the trip... best of the best was undeniably Riikka's, "Tää on vaan tälleen hypoteettista tää raha", Kaisa's, "Ai niin sää oot tuo neekeri" and my very own, "Älä mua kato, mää meen vessaan." Might not ring any bells for the majority of you, but just so that I'll remember... heh.

So I, Dad and Mum went to Piia's today, to discuss the London trip with her and her parents. (Funny, ain't it - she's called Piia, while I'm Miia, and her mother's name is Mervi, like my mother's, and her younger brother is, as one might guess, likewise Ville. Only our fathers' names are completely different, and, of course, our last names.) The visit was successful. We settled on a hotel, and I and Dad will book the flights and the room soon. I'm glad we're finally making some progress - after all, the trip will only be shy four months away; it's high time we'd be booking it.

I'm getting increasingly bothered by my fringe. It's already well past my nose, reaching my upper lip soon, and getting into the way all the time! Having had it short for most of my life, I'm absolutely not used to it being this long. But alas, one must make sacrifices, and this is mine - I cannot think of having it short once I become a soldier. (Wow, did that just sound like I believe it did? Wow.) I mean, it'd be a nuisance, and after all, they say women are not obliged to cut their hair short, but de facto most do, because it's easier. Well, I won't, or at least I'll try to survive with my long locks (some have pulled through with long hair, it's not like it'd be impossible) and then cut them (... lemme think, or not!) if they get in the way too badly. It's just that a short fringe won't do, because according to the rules, and they are the same for both men and women, one's eyebrows, ears, and the back of their neck must be in view, and in order to abide by those rules I'd have to constantly cut it short, like, every four weeks. I'll just resort to pinning my hair up in a bun - which I'll have to do anyway, though in some places ponytails and even plaits are approved of. (And, well, for practicality's sake women do plait their hair when using gas masks and stuff.)

Anyway, to completely change the subject, I'm lonely. Awfully so, which is weird, because I do appreciate the occasional solitude, and what makes it even stranger is that I've been surrounded by various people for the last few days; Salla's been around, I paid a visit to Laura, I went to the gym this morning and it was packed, and we even visited Piia. It's like, whenever someone's in the same room and I can devote all my attention to them, it's okay - but the moment I'm left alone in my room or somewhere, it hits. And I start thinking. (Yeah, wipe those stupid smirks off your faces, I do engage in the noble art of thinking even when I'm not alone, but it's different when no one's around.) I hate it. That's it, amen, case closed.

Anyhow, things are just, getting a bit too complicated by and large, I guess. I've been reading some post-Hogwarts pre-Halloween MWPP-fics, and surprisingly, and unsettlingly, found them portraying this current situation quite exactly. It's the grow-up-drift-apart stage in our lives. (The 'us' standing for me, Group X, The Gang, and most other people our age.) I mean, whenever someone's mentioning next year (i.e., coming autumn), their voice has a kind of a hollow tone in it. And everyone keeps reiterating that everyone's going to move away to university/some other school/work/army/be au-pair/whatever, and how awful said fact is. No one offers any solutions, though, and I reckon that's because there is none. All I've got is some hope, and faith, that those that count will stick around, and not let us grow apart. In the meantime, I know some won't care enough to make the effort, and it makes me sad, but there isn't much I can do, after I've done all that I can (err... lol at that sentence.) I'll of course do my part, that goes without saying. But you know... signs have been there for some time already, of who are going to endeavour to stand by our friendship, and who are not. Nothing has been said, save the usual 'omg no one's going to be around next year dear lord it's awful omg what will we do' blabbering, that leads to nothing at all, but one knows, from the way they express their plans for next year, and more distant future.

You know, the conversation usually follows the same pattern of four separate parts. Let me call them parts A, B, C, and D. A is the studying part - what they are going to study, where, whether they are going to pass the entrance examination, what they will become once they graduate, etc., etc. Part B is the moving away part - where they will move, if they'll purchase an apartment or rent one, whether they'll live alone or with a friend or someone, and so on. Part C, my favourite, is about what ELSE they will do aside from studying; the actually living your life part. Part D is what I like to call 'everyone else'- part; what will everyone else do? Where will they move? What will they study? Are they going to have a gap year? What will they be up to in general? It's all about what they italicize; the studying part, the moving away part, the what else they will do except study part, or the what everyone else is going to do part. If they put emphasis, during the conversation, on parts C and D, they'll almost surely at least try to be there, and try not to let old friendships die.

It's actually quite few that do, though. In saddeningly many cases it seems that people view the next 3-7 years as TEH ULTIMATE YEARS OF STUDYING. It's as if it's only starting now. Yeah, for some, I guess it is. And call me an idealist (you'll not be gravely mistaken), but like always, I prefer living to studying. Many forget that the two are not mutually exclusive, and the collective let's-first-graduate-and-then-start-living attitude makes me vomit. It's idiotic. Too many people let life pass by while "getting prepared" for it, and while getting themselves prepared and forgetting the word pair 'carpe diem', they also seem to ditch stuff like friendships for instance that might intervene in their getting prepared = studying. Okay, okay, that's bitterness talking there, no one thinks like that, at least no one I know, but it's still true that too many seem to forget to take care of social relations and going out there and living their lives when all they do is study. They forget what exactly they're studying for, so to speak.

And the next moment, mark my words, after the studying is done, people have gotten married and are possibly expecting their first kid and everyone has settled down and that is it, that's the long and the short of it. And yeah, I guess when those few of us that have succeeded in maintaining old friendships come round on Sundays to visit and chitchat over a cup of coffee, people will tell their three-year-olds to properly say hello to Auntie X, "who Mama went to school with once upon a time". Yep, no need to tell me I'm a pessimist, I know - but the good thing about pessimism is that you rarely get disappointed.

I just hope there are not going to be any Peter Pettigrews once the time comes that all that will happen.

Yeah. Couldn't someone just soothingly swear that that is not what will happen, we'll still going to get together frequently, still going to be inseparable, and know each other inside out, and we'll each make the others godfathers and -mothers to our children, and everyone will remember everybody when they leaf through old photo albums 40 years from now? And that we don't just have to remember, but that we still are around. Please.

Well, at least Bon Jovi's comforting...

We gotta hold on to what we've got
It doesn't make a difference if we make it or not
We've got each other and that's a lot.



- M.