Archive for the ‘Feels’ Category


Wednesday, October 12th, 2016

I’m off my meds and I’m just…

I mean I’m supposed to be revising for my geology exam which is later today and is going to be really shitty, but I’m just looking at pictures of Julian Arahanga like

The bartending years

Thursday, October 6th, 2016

A friend of mine had her birthday today and one of her friends posted a birthday picture on her wall on Facebook and in the comments something was said and it brought to my mind some things that are basically Ancient History™ and therefore you’ll inevitably get to hear about them.

When I was sixteen-ish, I had a crush on this guy, who lived in an apartment building next to the building my best friend lived. Why I had a crush on such a random guy? Probably because he looked a bit like Bono. We used to call him Bono II up until the point when we got to know his name. Well, actually we called him Bono II even after that, because hello, codenames and secrecy and everything teen-aged-girl.

Well, turned out he owned a bar and after long and winding turns of events, I ended up bartending in that joint. I loved that wreck of a bar. It was the first bar I went the evening I turned 18 and was legally allowed to mainline beer and get publically plastered. It was also the first bar I got so plastered in I ended up arse over tits several times on my way home (i also took a little nap under a bush one time or another, because i was too drunk to crawl all the way home, ahh those more innocent times, hm). It was a bar suitable for geeks like me, who liked to dye their hair in colors unimaginable and wear makeup that could only be described as hhmhmmh… interesting. I’m so glad selfies didn’t exist back then.

I made a lot of friends there and I’m not ashamed to say I had a bit of a thing going on with one of the other bartenders in there. To be fair tho, half the town had had a bit of a thing going with him at some point or another, but hey, it takes one to know one, you know, so no name calling.

What I remember most about that bar and all of the gang there (including the owners) is that more often than not, we would be at ours until the closing time (at 2 am) and then work our way by some means or another (this sometimes included drunk driving by some (i swear it wasn’t me) and i’m not very proud of these moments, but shit happened and that’s that) to the other one, in our minds the better one, of the local nightclubs. We couldn’t go to the other one because one person in our group was engaged to a person working in that club and this person just couldn’t be there drunk, because of reasons (look, i’m trying to be polite and not say this guy went crazy over anything with a vagina and preferrebly a pulse when he got drunk but i see there’s no getting around it, sorry). And in that better nightclub we sometimes ended up doing the conga line (blame the dj) around the bar and drinking ourselves even more attractive than we already were.

I remember once, during one Migration of The Drunk™, my boss almost got into a fight with a bunch of farmers and we all had to leg it. And this one time, after a tattoo happening at the bar, there was an evening of boozing for the staff and someone threw a carrot that hit me right on the forehead (yes, one of those wtf moments) and after getting sufficiently drunk we all headed up to a fair where the boss man said he’d pay for us all and he was so motherfucking cute driving the bumper cars that I was sure I was gonna die. Ugh.

Oh mate, they were some good times, the short while they lasted.


Saturday, May 28th, 2016

Have I ever told you how much I love summer?

I love summer very very much.

Here in northern Finland the summer starts around the last week of May, which is preceeded by a spring-type of thing that lasts about three seconds. No seriously, it goes from full-on snow to first tiny little leaf-babies on trees so fast you can’t even manage to say ‘spring’.

Suddenly everything’s so green it hurts the eye. It’s aggressively bright green, the new grass, the new leaves. The sky is so blue it makes your eyes water.

It stays this way until midsummer.

Then everything gets a more lazy, deep green tone, the golden haze of true summer sets in. Early mornings bring a faint mist over lakes and fields. Even birds seem to want to spend their days snoozing rather than singing. This is the heart of the summer, where people stay outside all day and all night because it still won’t get dark at nights for two whole months.

Then it’s mid-August and the haze goes away. Green starts to slowly turn to orange and red and brown, even tho it’s still a month until proper autumn colours. Nights start to get a hint of dusk and you need a cardigan for the evenings. But it’s still achingly beautiful, the nature fighting not to give in to cold.

And it’s all so short, so quickly gone by.

And I love every minute of it.
Every shade of green.
Every misty morning and calm night.

fuck you farrell

Friday, February 26th, 2016


Life saver

Wednesday, February 3rd, 2016

I was supposed to be telling you (three) a different story alltogether, but this is more urgent.

It’s been at least a few months since I’ve last told you how much U2 means to me. It’s a story told seven trillion times, but it’s relevant again. When I’m having tough times U2 appears, always, until the end of time, to make me understand that living is a viable option.

I can’t tell you how many nights in my twenties I spent lying on the floor crying, trying to hold on to the rug with both hands just to feel something other than crushing pain, trying to feel connected to the world, trying not to just fade away. And in the darkest of hours, there was U2, there was Achtung Baby. And there was Bono.

Telling me to take the cup, to fill it up and to drink it slow, because neither of us could let the other go. Telling me over and over and over again, to light his way (baby, baby, baby). Calling out to me with the same desperation I was calling out to him. And even if I was only holding on to the cliff with one finger anymore, tired of everything, of it all, ready to let go, he would be there with his ‘love, love love’, and I knew I had to hold on. For just a bit longer.

Because it’s always darkest before dawn and the dawn was coming. He promised me that.

And I believed it.

I still believe it.