Who is this guy called Hölkänen? And what exactly is "pöläys"?
I'd like to know.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
Tired and tagged.
I'm incredibly tired right now. Incredibly, because I slept quite well. The first thing in the morning, however, I went to the Linna library reading room and read for two hours. It was so dark in there that I could barely stay awake.
Besides, the early hours of the day are the least effective for me. No matter how much this society is built on the assumption that all people just love to wake up early and can work effectively starting from 8 am, it's never going to be a reality in my case. Some people are simply more evening/night creatures, and they never catch the early worm. (Or whatever the hell that saying is.)
I don't remember anything from what I read, except I noticed some Canadianisms in the text. Always good to have ideas for possible new research projects.
So I got tagged by Amoena. I'll make an attempt at doing what I'm supposed to. I'll admit right away that I don't know any other bloggers well enough to tag them. I mean, I do read some blogs. But if I suddenly gave a comment that I tagged them, they'd probably be scared out of their wits. I'm a stalking kind of reader.
Anyhow. The rules, which I copied from Amoena:
1. Link to your tagger and list these rules on your blog.
2. Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog - some random, some weird.
3. Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blog.
4. Let them know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
And the facts.
(1) I plan to write a science fiction novel one day. I'm already on page three.
(2) The only thing I miss about last summer are the frequent Messenger sessions with Amoena.
(3) There is a guy in my German class who(m) I'd like to ask out, but haven't worked up the courage yet. (Because let's face it, Finnish men almost never take the initiative. And Italian and French men far too often.)
(4) I'd like to become a mum before I turn 30. To hell with career, I want babies! (Actually I think I could have both.)
(5) I like to spend quality time with my little brother by watching horror movies. We don't care about bad ratings, as long as it's R-rated. If there are zombies, we're going to watch it.
(6) The same brother once gave me edible underpanties for a Christmas present. How sweet of him.
(7) I suck at math, but I was the only one in my class who scored full points in the algebra test. I like the simple beauty of equations.
So there. Over and out.
Besides, the early hours of the day are the least effective for me. No matter how much this society is built on the assumption that all people just love to wake up early and can work effectively starting from 8 am, it's never going to be a reality in my case. Some people are simply more evening/night creatures, and they never catch the early worm. (Or whatever the hell that saying is.)
I don't remember anything from what I read, except I noticed some Canadianisms in the text. Always good to have ideas for possible new research projects.
So I got tagged by Amoena. I'll make an attempt at doing what I'm supposed to. I'll admit right away that I don't know any other bloggers well enough to tag them. I mean, I do read some blogs. But if I suddenly gave a comment that I tagged them, they'd probably be scared out of their wits. I'm a stalking kind of reader.
Anyhow. The rules, which I copied from Amoena:
1. Link to your tagger and list these rules on your blog.
2. Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog - some random, some weird.
3. Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blog.
4. Let them know they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.
And the facts.
(1) I plan to write a science fiction novel one day. I'm already on page three.
(2) The only thing I miss about last summer are the frequent Messenger sessions with Amoena.
(3) There is a guy in my German class who(m) I'd like to ask out, but haven't worked up the courage yet. (Because let's face it, Finnish men almost never take the initiative. And Italian and French men far too often.)
(4) I'd like to become a mum before I turn 30. To hell with career, I want babies! (Actually I think I could have both.)
(5) I like to spend quality time with my little brother by watching horror movies. We don't care about bad ratings, as long as it's R-rated. If there are zombies, we're going to watch it.
(6) The same brother once gave me edible underpanties for a Christmas present. How sweet of him.
(7) I suck at math, but I was the only one in my class who scored full points in the algebra test. I like the simple beauty of equations.
So there. Over and out.
Monday, October 20, 2008
A Finite jest.
I read about the author David Foster Wallace in the paper. I'm glad somebody ordered his big hit, Infinite Jest, at the main library in Tampere. I have got to read that book when it's available.
I like the thought of a 1000-and-plus-pages book (with footnotes too!). Something alluring about them. If you like what you're reading, it's a wonderful feeling to know that it's going to last for a long while yet.
Wallace is dead now. He suffered from depression for 20 years until he finally killed himself at 46. So the columnist wonders why he did it, since he had a family, success with his career, a wonderful life history.
To my mind, the right question is why he didn't do it any sooner. Can you imagine 20 years of severe depression? How on earth did he do it? It doesn't matter how many wonderful things you have in your life if you're depressed. They don't help that much, sadly.
Sometimes I wonder how it's possible that I'm still hanging on here, and I'm barely 25. I can't imagine living like I have so far for 20 more years, so I don't imagine it. I just don't plan my life that far ahead, but I keep my hopes up. One thing at a time.
I got tagged by Amoena. I'll get down to that soon. I don't really understand what it means though. Is it like those letters that used to circulate among strangers, where you wrote something about yourself and sent it forward?
You know, back when people still wrote letters. In case you don't know, they're these pieces of paper with writing on them. Writing that was written with a pen. Handwritten. Can you imagine?
I'm a little worried about my letter writing hobby. I've exchanged letters with my dear cousin for 16 years now, and we've always written at least once or twice a year. Now that she lives in the same town, I wonder if she'll want to keep it up. Well, maybe we'll continue as soon as we live in different towns again.
I like the thought of a 1000-and-plus-pages book (with footnotes too!). Something alluring about them. If you like what you're reading, it's a wonderful feeling to know that it's going to last for a long while yet.
Wallace is dead now. He suffered from depression for 20 years until he finally killed himself at 46. So the columnist wonders why he did it, since he had a family, success with his career, a wonderful life history.
To my mind, the right question is why he didn't do it any sooner. Can you imagine 20 years of severe depression? How on earth did he do it? It doesn't matter how many wonderful things you have in your life if you're depressed. They don't help that much, sadly.
Sometimes I wonder how it's possible that I'm still hanging on here, and I'm barely 25. I can't imagine living like I have so far for 20 more years, so I don't imagine it. I just don't plan my life that far ahead, but I keep my hopes up. One thing at a time.
I got tagged by Amoena. I'll get down to that soon. I don't really understand what it means though. Is it like those letters that used to circulate among strangers, where you wrote something about yourself and sent it forward?
You know, back when people still wrote letters. In case you don't know, they're these pieces of paper with writing on them. Writing that was written with a pen. Handwritten. Can you imagine?
I'm a little worried about my letter writing hobby. I've exchanged letters with my dear cousin for 16 years now, and we've always written at least once or twice a year. Now that she lives in the same town, I wonder if she'll want to keep it up. Well, maybe we'll continue as soon as we live in different towns again.
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