Archive for the ‘Me’ Category

London

Monday, July 17th, 2017

I can’t believe it’s been two weeks since I left London. I know it was just a quick pop-by, but it was the most happiest three days I’ve had in months.

I met Adam, a bloke I knew only through Facebook and he turned out to be every bit as wonderful and awesome and everything as I expected. And beyond. Mate, you’re truly a treasure, I am so fucking hyped to have met you in person.

I had such a great time with my husband, just walking around, having a picnic in the park and slouching in our hotel room at late night.

I’ve not travelled much, but none of the places I’ve been to have made me so passionately fall in love with it than London has. It’s ridiculous.

I miss it. I miss London. I started missing it the moment I stepped in the plane on Heathrow (can you imagine our flight left from gate 1?)

Yea.

Maladaptive daydreamer

Sunday, February 19th, 2017

Maladaptive daydreaming or excessive daydreaming is a psychological concept to describe an extensive fantasy activity that replaces human interaction and/or interferes with academic, interpersonal, or vocational functioning.

Maladaptive daydreamers may also experience trouble completing routine tasks or going to sleep, due to their desire to continue daydreaming. Oftentimes while maladaptive daydreamers are daydreaming, they will whisper, talk, make facial expressions, or do some sort of repetitive movement, such as pacing.

Maladaptive daydreamers can spend hours simply daydreaming. They may have elaborate fantasies within their minds, often comparable to a complete novel or movie. Many have more than one fantasy in their mind, each with its own characters, setting, plots, etc. Maladaptive daydreamers may become emotionally attached to their characters as well, though they know the characters are not real.

Now, until very recently I had no clue that this was actually considered as an actual psychological condition, so to speak. I thought this was something that people did. People who write. People like me.

I mean I’ve always worked that way when writing. I have a very precise mental image of the surroundings, the characters and dialogue. I tend to have conversations in my head that I go through, sometimes being one of the characters, and other times more than one. Like I switch roles all the time and go through the actual conversation that I’m later going to write. I make faces a lot when I write, or when I’m just thinking about writing. And yes there are many AU’s going on in my head at any given time, for many different storylines (i call them storylines, i guess they may as well be considered daydreams) and I do tend to get emotionally attached to my characters. Also the part about having trouble to complete routine tasks or going to sleep, because of wanting to continue the story (or fantasy)? All true.

I know there’s a difference between plotting and daydreaming in a very defining level, which is that one is more of a fantasy about oneself in an AU, and the other is basically making up characters and then sort of following their story arch. But it’s intriguing to think about the similarities. I sure spend a lot of time talking to my imaginary characters and prefer their company more often than actual people. And I sort of think that most writers add some of their own qualities to their characters, because why not, you know how a person that has this or that quality acts or thinks, because you have that in you. I don’t mean making a 2.0 (mary sue) version of you, but just putting in bits and pieces of yourself. Which kind of makes the story a personal fantasy of sorts.

So really, is there a difference between a maladaptive daydreamer and a writer such as myself?

We just don’t know.

Borderline

Tuesday, January 10th, 2017

I was going to be very productive and all with this blog, starting the first of January, but look how that’s gone. I’m blaming my moods again. I know I’m turning to mania again, becacuse obvious fucking signs. I’m annoyed at everything, I hate my life being stuck and I’m obsessing very badly over a celebrity. I wouldn’t be sleeping if it wasn’t for supplements.

So this is what my life is at the moment: I had a hissy fit yesterday to basically the whole world, because U2 announced The Joshua Tree 30 year anniversary tour and I can’t go, because they play like ten shows in Europe and none of them are even close to Finland. It’s not even my favourite album or anything, but I just… And I wanted to see Assassin’s Creed, but it seemed they’re not showing it anymore. (well they are, the news just in, buddy boy, so all that rage for nothing) and I was so fucking pissed off at that too.

So I had a hissy fit and just sat infront of the computer the whole evening, watching Centurion on Netflix and eating what was left of my stash of chocolate.

I know I’m pathetic. I just wish I had a normal functioning fucking brain.

Another year

Tuesday, October 18th, 2016

So it’s me birthday. Again, as it seems. Funny how the time flies when you’re and so on.

Instead of eating cake so much I’ll puke, I’m at home sneezing what’s left of my brain (‘not a lot’ -you, ‘ye u right’ -me) out. I’ve also been watching a shitty film (i hate to say this but the sequel to Once Were Warriors is painful), drinking a lot of tea and orange juice and hitting up Wayback Machine.

I found a few blog entries from 2005 (jesus i’ve been a blogger for a good while, eh), from my fourth domain, ice-ice.org. I’m ranting on about how music is my life and how it’s the only place that lets me relax because I’m a fidgety bastard. And I’m shouting in caps to Johnnie how much I love him and calling him my knight in shiny armor. I’m having database troubles because of domain move and I’m being a bit of a fangirl.

So, in ten years nothing’s changed.

Except the domain name.

Record store

Wednesday, September 14th, 2016

When I was about twelve or thirteen, a new record shop was opened in my hometown. Before that we’d had to buy our records from either the supermarket (which had a pitiful variety of music) or go to Sweden, to our neighbouring town of Haparanda, where there was a dedicated store.

So the store opened and the owner was a guy who I already were sort of familiar with, because he was with the local DJ company as a lighting tech. The store was on the basement floor of the mall and the first record I bought there was Maggie Reilly’s album Echoes. It was a start of a wonderful friendship, let me tell you.

When the store moved to ground floor after a couple of years, I started to really hang around in there and got friendly with the owner. I mean I would just go there and talk, not even buy anything. I would listen to a lot of albums and just spend time in there. I wasn’t one of the popular kids, as I’ve told you a million times in a million stories, so I had a lot of time to spend elsewhere than parties and such. By the time I was sixteen, making some money of my own, I was buying a lot of records. Whatever he didn’t have in and I wanted, he would order. I bought a lot of U2 records, the back catalogue that I didn’t have at the time and I made my love for the band so clear that I was nicknamed just U2. I would call the owner and introduce myself as U2 and he would know who I was. I even used my first debit card ever the first time ever there, on purpose and he made it a spectacle to the amusement of not just me and him, but also every other patron in there at the time. He even signed the receipt “U2” so I wouldn’t have to (yes there were times when you had to sign a receipt and not just punch in pincodes, i know, try to understand this was the dark ages with dragons and inquisition).

By the time I was nineteen and still hanging about in the store (i know, i was a complete geek), U2 came out with Pop. The owner ordered in every one of the singles released in every version he could get his hands on, stacking them behind the counter for me to pick up. If I didn’t have money at the moment he would write my purchases down and I would pay him later. I was that frequent of a customer.

It was a magical time and I have only later realized how special of a place it was for me. I miss those days a lot. But they came to an end because people basically stopped buying physical copies of music and instead started downloading it. That was the end of my record store, much like it must’ve been for a lot of record stores in Finland and indeed around the world.

But it was my world, my happy place, my salvation from a lot of gloomy days I would’ve spent on my own.

And I miss it. A lot.