tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-120647892011-11-16T15:17:59.211+02:00Mutterings from a year in FinlandRowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.comBlogger4941100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1149234209995383052006-06-02T10:38:00.000+03:002006-09-17T16:37:44.663+03:00

This blog is now closed...A new travel blog will be born for travel writing, but the need to dribble on about life in a new country is no longer valid. Nor am I isolated from English language speakers or living alone and needing an outlet for my rambles.If this is your first visit here, you're welcome to read backwards about the journey from England to Finland for a year, and back again.Pure

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1149066586242399752006-05-31T12:05:00.000+03:002006-05-31T12:09:46.263+03:00

I've stilled my dancin' happy feet long enough to scribble a few lines. Life is good. Very very good. I've received a few emails asking why. You can't tell? Or you want details?!The BF has declared he never wants to read this, so I can go into as much detail as you'd like...In other news, Uma is visiting. I hope she's having a good time. We've managed to sneak in some moments in between the rain

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1148650714626754472006-05-26T16:36:00.000+03:002006-05-26T16:38:34.650+03:00

I'm just too damn happy to post...

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1148208550587475602006-05-21T13:35:00.000+03:002006-05-21T13:49:10.610+03:00

Typical day: my alarm goes off, I creep out of bed, and draw the curtains, hoping the natural light wakes The Boss. It doesn't. I have a shower and think it might wake The Boss. It doesn't. I come out and bang my stuff around to wake up The Boss. She moves not.Two girls, one bathroom; we could become logistics co-ordinators after this. We struggle down our hill, the lizards scampering into the

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1148124543649801972006-05-20T14:17:00.000+03:002006-05-21T13:11:51.043+03:00

It's siesta in the Sardinian town of Olbia. The rest of the town is behind closed doors. What do they do? Sleep? Eat? I recall a cheesy movie... "siesta is for making love... ". Whatever the case, I am doing none of it. It's the only free time we have so we prowl the streets, pressing sweaty faces to the glass of expensive clothes shops that won't open for hours. The bars and cafes are quietly

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1148111686296366112006-05-20T10:52:00.000+03:002006-05-20T10:54:46.323+03:00

Photos of Sardinia streets and beaches now online. Words to follow when I stop having to report banal reports about cars on loose gravel...

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1147976246970178502006-05-18T21:12:00.000+03:002006-05-18T21:17:26.996+03:00

For someone who reads the ingredients on her moisturiser, shuns microwaves and attempts to find deoderant without aluminium all in bid to keep cancer at bay, it was pretty stupid of me to head down to the beach without any suncream for four hours. Emerging red faced and rosy limbed ready for my birthday night out, I bumped into a Finn, who said I looked just like a Finnish girl on summer

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1147896479268628472006-05-17T22:46:00.000+03:002006-05-17T23:07:59.473+03:00

If I could have rolled myself in olive oil today and then baked myself to a golden bronze then I would have.I came fairly close - Over lunch I managed to pour olive oil over my bread, hands, table cloth, table, bread basket, napkin (you get the picture) so that the proprietor came out, made a lot of tutting noises and presented me with a plate (which I think should have been standard anyway... )I

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1147815442397051442006-05-17T00:32:00.000+03:002006-05-17T00:37:22.426+03:00

I am herebut the view is lovely...Olbia

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1147597065990951022006-05-14T11:48:00.000+03:002006-05-14T11:57:46.013+03:00

I gracefully gain another year in a couple of days, in case anyone hadn't worked out the significance of my Finnish phone number. In anticipation, someone asked if the Wishlist on my blogger profile was still current. I checked, it is, but it had me rolling on the floor with laughter as I think of what people might think based on the range of books and music in it: Love and Death in the Balkans,

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1147591740793488192006-05-14T10:22:00.000+03:002006-05-14T10:54:06.106+03:00

Left: Me, stretching out in the Isle of Dogs... I’m moving house this week (I’m also going to Italy this week – if you haven’t noticed, I don’t’ do things by halves). So now that the bags are backed and blocking my exit from the room, it’s the right time to talk at length about my current flat (i.e. where I am now) before I move into the next one (where I will be tomorrow)I live in an area called

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1147512467431957712006-05-13T12:11:00.000+03:002006-05-13T12:27:47.770+03:00

I admire people who are brilliant friends. One of the Partridge family takes text messages and phone calls at all hours of the night for a friend of hers who is going through a crisis. She is there for everyone and never stops comforting however much it wears her down. She also takes a good deal of text messages from me and phone calls about a range of inane things.I on the other hand, drop my

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1147474948928336292006-05-13T02:00:00.000+03:002006-05-13T02:02:28.963+03:00

Alyssa and I huddle together for the sadder moments of the Lion King.

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1147474024258327952006-05-13T01:46:00.000+03:002006-05-13T01:47:04.293+03:00

The statistics show you come here in your droves when I am dragging my arse around the world, or when I am pouring out cringeworthy emotions and drying my nose on my heart-emblazoned sleeve. So in the absence of any arse-dragging here’s the latest guts and all confessional. I am seeing someone. Or more precisely, and startlingly when said in black and white, I have a partner… If that’s shocked

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1147470408559314232006-05-13T00:17:00.000+03:002006-12-06T16:30:50.097+02:00

"Would you like me to levitate to make more space for you?" a dyed-redhead mutters sarcastically underbreath to a tough-maybe-an-extra-in-Bad Girls-Jamaican woman .Even though we're packed in the tube carriage jowl-to-jowl, BadGirl finds enough space to turn around and stare down Red.Being England, being London, being commuters, we all look away, and stare into space, close our eyes in pretense

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1147468589478113522006-05-12T00:07:00.000+03:002006-05-13T00:16:29.520+03:00

It has been a long time between posts where I've been interesting (assuming of course I ever was) and then suddenly the muse returns. Perhaps because I've finally got a night free of obligations but I do have another theory.I have been carrying a camera around deep in the bottom of my handbag nestled amongst the wet wipes and super size nougat. I've been using it a lot as smumug testifies,

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1147122957266681042006-05-09T00:14:00.000+03:002006-05-09T00:15:57.266+03:00

My daily sight on the way to work... I never thought I would appreciate London so much... it's nice to be a tourist again in some respects. It's not nice to do the daily commute again. But six more days and I can walk to work!Wish I had more time to write but 2.5 jobs isn't leaving much spare time...

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1147095432186182292006-05-08T16:36:00.000+03:002006-05-08T16:37:12.213+03:00

I am slightly smurflike blue today... I had a second date on Friday that went neither good nor bad, depending on how you view being told he's having an affair with someone in the office already. (Why go to the trouble of a second date then?!) I spoke to the Man with a Van who has great news about potential to study and I think, but this might be an ill conceived presumption based on the sound of

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1146750480459759662006-05-04T16:43:00.000+03:002006-05-04T16:48:00.486+03:00

That's the temperature outside in London today.25Twenty five degrees celciusHotIce cream licking hotSkirt wearing hotTube crippling hot (really, it's the front page of the evening paper)It's due to rain on Saturday though...

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1146608088889765742006-05-03T01:05:00.000+03:002006-05-03T01:18:32.273+03:00

Whoosh! Speeding out of Canary Wharf, I've just got enough time to fall over, get the hair out of my face and take a photo in the blinding sun and Thames spray...It wasn't just Toad who loved messing about on boats. I think children and men love boats too. And then there's me...I caught the boat into work the other day - just because I could. Purely decadent. 2.70 even with an Oyster card, but

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1146606688566028552006-05-03T00:43:00.000+03:002006-05-03T00:51:28.566+03:00

But you're allowed to piss on the floor... Perhaps because I am back in a country where I comprehend the aural and written language around me, but the English seem very big on instructions, particularly for the obvious.On the coach down from Oxford, the bus driver told us twice in a half hour period at the beginning of the journey, that we should flush the toilet after use, and quite how to

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1146606216112498612006-05-03T00:39:00.000+03:002006-05-03T00:43:36.310+03:00

It takes me half an hour longer to get to work because I stop to look at the flowers and watch the swans brood and marvel at the terns building nests...I always think of the Pitajanmakis at moment like these because I know they would love to be here for the nature alone. Now who'd think of something like that being said about a pocket of London... ?!A piece of spring for the Pitajanmakis!

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1146604697092857302006-05-03T00:12:00.000+03:002006-05-03T00:18:17.093+03:00

For the time that I was actually conscious on Mayday (having fallen in a heap from filing news every half an hour for 12 hours on 3 straight days), I heard Sharna's little song "Hyvva Vappua" in my head... and smiled.Thanks to the lovely folk who called (yes called!) for May Day eve and texted from picnics in sober state. You made me feel like I was there. And happy Rowena-Sarita-Sami-Myy-Epsilon

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1146603859549774972006-05-03T00:03:00.000+03:002006-05-03T00:04:19.630+03:00

It’s in London Bridge which means all my late night clubbing friends will remember me when they have run out of cash for a dodgy minicab at 4am. I’m sharing with a Mexican and Chinese girl which should mean good contacts for traveling. I have a balcony, a futon, a desk, wireless, room to swing several cats, and a deep red 1950s carpet from my room into and including the toilet.,. I also have

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1146224757285536222006-04-28T14:39:00.000+03:002006-04-28T17:44:20.586+03:00

It's first thing in the morning in Argentina, lunch time in Banbury.Around my desk: tissues, lip balm, hand cream, massage oil, tiger balm, chocolate biscuits, After Eights, water, Easter egg, hands free for two Nokia phones, two Nokia phones, head set, lap top, four pens, a notebook, Strepsils... you get the picture.I've just scoffed: canned Bob the Builder spaghetti, a fried egg, 2 pieces of

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1146225974409858912006-04-28T12:46:00.000+03:002006-04-28T15:08:23.420+03:00

Elvis or Pet Shop Boys...?A song, always in my mind...... in a nice way.For the Spud Lovers.But don't mistake me for a sentimental fool. Just a comfort lover.(This is the blog equivalent of a cryptic crossword, like the ones found in those Unison online papers...)

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1146171437223041632006-04-27T23:47:00.000+03:002006-04-27T23:57:17.223+03:00

There are a few things about being back in the working "western" world that are good to re-discover.The pay cheque: The other day I got a pay cheque. Granted it was only for a week's pay but it felt good to have a BACS receipt in my hand. I felt proud, accomplished and hungry. I celebrated by purchasing cleaning detergents and a four pack of 44p creme caramel. I know how to live...The chat up:

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1146170238301310222006-04-27T23:28:00.000+03:002006-04-27T23:40:14.163+03:00

Some time ago a friend pointed out that my profile was wrong, as it said my current location was Maunula and geographically I'm anywhere in the UK at any given random moment.Physically that's correct, but short on an essay on existentialism, my heart is a little bit in Finland. At the time of being corrected by the observant friend, I was ready to staunchly defend my right to say I am Finnish. My

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1145998326636928272006-04-25T23:48:00.000+03:002006-04-26T00:04:26.946+03:00

Yesterday I had time off. That’s right. Two free hours in London at my will in between work and a treat at the theatre. I was beside myself.It was quite a warm day though the morning was cold and dropped the infamous London fog over everything and now while it has risen above our heads, it still lurked above the skyscrapers preventing any blue from entering and prompting English people to use

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1145995565676673302006-04-24T23:01:00.000+03:002006-04-25T23:41:39.046+03:00

Me in the mansionIt’s that time again to start hitting the property market and look for somewhere to live for the next few months. And by saying this, yes I have decided to stay in London for the virtues of the pound.So I will be leaving my little wall to wall number in mid May and either moving across the peninsula to Canada Water (where my money will buy me half a shoe box), or zone one (where

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1145696023561821422006-04-22T11:51:00.000+03:002006-04-22T12:11:36.263+03:00

Exercise is clearly my thing... Most of you know that I escape up to Oxford most weekends, to be spoilt by the elusive Shelly, and to cuddle one very cute 18 month old baby ... What most of you don't know is that said cute baby, Jacinta Tania, is the namesake of one of Shelly's friends who died of cancer a few years ago.For all the things that Shelly has done for me over the years, and for all

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1145566889514127262006-04-20T23:54:00.000+03:002006-04-21T00:02:17.316+03:00

I was hoping to go back to Hel to pick up some luggage, have a couple of days of love and smut and then work, before returning back to London with some much needed clothing.But one of my doors closed, so another one has opened and even though my mantra was "I want to settle down" I will now get on the road again. It looks like I might be in Sardinia in the middle of May and in Greece in

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1145566425874751972006-04-20T23:26:00.000+03:002006-04-20T23:53:46.096+03:00

Beautiful people...Berliners are beautiful. They eat breakfast as a brunch that lasts from 5am to 5pm, they have delicious ice cream and an abundance of places to slurp beer and cocktails. But they are thin and slim, trim and taught. Perhaps it's the high number of beach volleyball pits plotted around the city. They have great teeth, clear skin, good hair and I never saw a spot on one of them.

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1145990529763945802006-04-20T21:36:00.000+03:002006-04-25T21:42:09.823+03:00

There's no denying that Berlin had it's fair share of lonely and melancholy moments. But there was one constant bringing a smile to my face, and despite my strong independence I will confess that my joy came from a man.But no ordinary man, the East Berlin ampelmann.Dotting the streets of the city in the former East, the portly yet stoic red man and the arguably phallic green never failed to bring

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1145458876480431072006-04-19T17:57:00.000+03:002006-04-19T18:01:16.510+03:00

Statue as seen through the posts of the Reconciliation Church.I arrived back at 2am this morning. Crossing the Berlin Wall - getting through London at midnight... they're both challenging and bureaucratic.More as soon as I find a big fat adsl connection.Thanks to the lovely lovely people trying to cheer me up. I woke up all warm and fuzzy in my sleeping bag.

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1145364651433443092006-04-18T15:42:00.000+03:002006-04-18T15:50:51.463+03:00

Wallow wallow glorious mud. I am going through the hardest muddiest loneliest stretch for a long time at the moment... So expect much depressed pondering before the Berlin snaps get posted.I just checked my emails and received but one message from a friend for the five days I have been away, so I think that gives me the right to feel even more sorry for myself. Finland forgets me but I am like a

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1144886904097622542006-04-13T03:03:00.000+03:002006-04-13T03:08:24.116+03:00

The person you have called is not available. Please try again later.

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1144704233907864372006-04-11T00:07:00.000+03:002006-04-11T00:23:54.130+03:00

I'm lucky that my travels far and work wide have brought me in contact with some wonderful people, even if they are only transitory experiences. Last Thursday, one of those beautiful people, Tomoji Kawano, sadly died of stomach cancer. I met him at Rally Australia, which he wanted to contest to fulfil a dream. He was an incredibly happy, humble, peaceful and philosophical person. Someone that

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1144696711071591392006-04-10T21:58:00.000+03:002006-04-10T22:22:01.816+03:00

I made friends I made friends I made friends!!! If anyone has seen me go from ultra bitch / event mode /professional city chick into cat lover extraordinaire aged 6 and a half in a millisecond they can imagine just how excited I am now!I went for a jog (yes you have read that word correctly) because it was a glorious ten degrees with clear skies and I stuffed myself full of food at Chez Linstroms

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1144481628352564632006-04-08T10:29:00.000+03:002006-04-08T10:33:48.380+03:00

I'm back in black and for once it's not for a funeral...Yesterday my rent deposit came in, and today my cheque from the tax department arrived.The cheque has a box with amounts written above it, and you get as much of that amount as specified in the box eg tens, units, hundreds etc. My box has a space for 100,000, million and 10 million. Do people really get cheques for this amount of money?

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1144271228349529182006-04-05T23:48:00.000+03:002006-04-06T00:07:08.686+03:00

There have been requests and demands on my lunch for a pound in London search:Day minus one: visit to London - make sandwiches at Shelly's and eat them in public in Mayfair. Get strange looks from men in pin stripe suits and pink shirts, but the ultimate result - success!Day one: First day at work - we have to leave the office for a train mid afternoon so a lunch "break" is not really called for.

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1144270066359660642006-04-05T23:37:00.000+03:002006-04-05T23:47:46.396+03:00

Ryanair (yes the same airline I just cursed about ten days ago) are having a sale. Flights are either free, or under a pound - you have to pay the taxes, and the cost of getting to their out of the way airports.This means I could go to Rome or Genoa for my birthday for under thirty pounds!I could also go to Sardinia - which both A Bare All and The Bean would like to come to. But I would have to

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1144235070155982882006-04-05T13:53:00.000+03:002006-04-05T14:04:30.620+03:00

Last night, I got off the train from Derby with my laptop bag crammed with biscuits, tea and a small towel courtesy of the hotel, a plastic bag of artwork from the conference, and a handbag overflowing with electrical cables.Met a friend in seedy Lewisham, who had taken my sleeping bag from the office so I could claim it for something to sleep in tonight. We went to a bar, vinyl covered booth

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1144070435857734082006-04-03T16:18:00.000+03:002006-04-03T16:20:35.886+03:00

Here I am in the office, overlooking the Thames and the HMAS Belfast moored on it, with a Very Serious Look on my face. It's the face that says "really I am doing something" when everyone knows it's my first day at work, and really, I am not.I did however have the lunchtime challenge - can one eat lunch in London for only a pound?!Stay tuned for that exciting story...

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1144013070278775012006-04-03T00:09:00.000+03:002006-04-03T00:24:30.333+03:00

So tomorrow, I rise and board a train with a lot of men with flecks of dandruff on their shoulders and grimaces on their faces, and head to London. Rather inconveniently I'll have three bags including a sleeping bag - because the next day (I'm overnight for a conference my first day at work!) I move into my new room, and apparently all the bedding has been stripped.It'll be my first "office job"

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1143982223967588252006-04-02T15:46:00.000+03:002006-04-02T15:50:23.970+03:00

Once upon a time in 1997, a girl arrived in Oxford from Australia, on a one way ticket bought with the takings from her home garage sale. She took her suitcase (really!) on the No 1 bus from Carfax to Cowley and got off at the Tescos, making her way to her uni buddy living in Hurst Avenue, off the Cowley Road. The weight of the suitcase (and the accompanying sports bag full of lingerie) kept her

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1143904315711625452006-04-01T17:58:00.000+03:002006-04-02T15:44:31.640+03:00

On Friday, I spent my first day in London. Well actually an afternoon. It was surprisingly pleasant, mostly because it didn't rain and as a result I walked nearly everywhere. Starting from Marylebone Station and ending up at Bank where I took the Docklands Light Railway to my new home.I found London overflowing with material riches - was it the contrast of social democracy Finland and minimalist

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1143792002923063832006-03-31T10:56:00.000+03:002006-03-31T11:00:02.953+03:00

You might remember when the tax man was rearing his ugly head for lots of money from me... At the time, I was in the UK, and my documents were in Finland, meaning I needed to ask people to search out the mysterious blue paper which held the answers to my taxable income. I knew that the blue paper was in the basement but I felt too bad demanding that in the wilds of winter, someone went down there

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1143757107290938992006-03-31T01:11:00.000+03:002006-03-31T01:19:20.950+03:00

"I'm Missus LonelyI have nobodyfor my ownnnnnnn"(it's okay, while I am doing the squeaky voice, I haven't got as far as rapping the next lines). Tomorrow, I head out to London, which is a good thing as I've spent the last few days playing au pair! It's been very good for my English, but not so much for my social skills... I'm going in for an interview for a language school that the Master has

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1143669845713355212006-03-30T00:53:00.000+03:002006-03-30T01:04:07.093+03:00

No point pretending we don't know what toilet paper is for. It's for your bum. Proudly proclaims this pack of English toilet roll.If you work in customer care for this company, you even get to hear people comment on whether this product is good for their bum. Do we really want to encourage this kind of feedback?!I don't think they have Velvet toilet paper in Sweden, but I am sure it would have

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1143666195037904772006-03-29T23:53:00.000+03:002006-03-30T00:03:17.093+03:00

Helsinki recently was home to a wonderful advertising campaign: We love boobs. I didn't get a chance to see it, but some other quick snappers did.The same series of ads also appeared in Sweden, but was cancelled by their local transport companies because of the slogan that accompanied it. It's okay to show the boobs but not to love them.Right.I guess if someone had to be insanely politically

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1143646833319157272006-03-29T18:30:00.000+03:002006-03-29T18:40:33.356+03:00

I've said mita and miksi far too oftenMarvelled at rainPut jumpers on for inside the houseMissed instant hot waterShuffled around in Marimekko slippers and realised it doesn't work the same on carpetGot homesick listening to the DNA recorded messageNot eaten a single English speciality foodAdmired daffodils that sprang up on my arrivalSmiled at the sight of soy milkEaten a lot more meatLooked at

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1143644908233612022006-03-29T18:07:00.000+03:002006-03-29T18:08:28.280+03:00

So I have left Finland and now with some space between me and “Finland, Finland the country where I quite want to be” I can think about it, and what it means to me or meant to be. A TICK BOXI have always wanted to live overseas. England doesn’t count. Neither does Malaysia. So Finland ticked a box for providing a home for more than 12 months. THE SETTLE DOWNI moved to Finland to settle down, with

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1143550025398390362006-03-28T15:41:00.000+03:002006-03-28T15:47:56.230+03:00

Jet-lagged, fatigued, bus-lagged, highway-bored, cried-out, pastry stuffed, dehydrated, overcooked, packing-sore, emotional, confused, disoriented, dazed, dirty but safely delivered to the UK.I tried to write a few sentences just then but my brain isn't working... and none of them made sense.Here's proof that one of us travels better than others...

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1143452111029609832006-03-27T12:25:00.000+03:002006-03-27T12:35:11.993+03:00

The first ever time in Finland. Of course, a motorsport campervan trip... August 2002"We'll meet again... don't know where, don't know when...."Oh no that's far too nostalgic for me... !I am due to leave within twelve hours. I am frantically burning DVDs and CDs and making final to do lists, so I have not yet had time to articulate the emotions that come with leaving.So far there have been a

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1143378798283783892006-03-26T15:55:00.000+03:002006-03-26T16:13:18.313+03:00

At 230 am I was throwing things into one suitcase (keep and take) and other things onto a pile that is precariously about to fall over (not keep).At 630 I was struggling to wake up despite the blinding Finnish sunlight nudging my hangover.At 730 I was wiping down my kitchen and bathroom wearing sunglasses.At 1000 I realised it was 1100 and that Finnish summer time had robbed me of one hour (at

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1143191360907567112006-03-24T10:47:00.000+02:002006-03-24T15:41:00.150+02:00

There's this Irishman, an Australian-Brit-Malay and a Finnish-French-Aussie.. they walk into a bar and... Nah see we don't even make a good start to a joke let alone a good removal company...Yesterday evening, I moved house. This was challenging for a number of reasons. All my things had to be separated into things I needed and things other people would generously receive or be generously given (

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1143037834333341922006-03-22T16:27:00.000+02:002006-03-24T15:36:05.756+02:00

Two things:One - I spent this morning sunbathing on my window sill in my sunglasses. Not only did I get too hot, but I tanned!Two – I saw a squirrel run across the space below my flat. He was doing commando moves from tree to tree, obviously feeling very vulnerable against the snow because I have never seen them move so fast. Occasionally he would stop by a tree trunk, sniff (I could have told

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1143036820398153852006-03-22T16:07:00.000+02:002006-03-22T16:26:52.460+02:00

One of the things I’ve been doing as I pack is making sure that the information I am used to having around me is actually accessible when I am away. My box of CD backups and plethora of half crammed note books are not coming with me…Going through old notebooks is interesting. I am a list maker and a doodler when bored. I have already found some sweet moments; memories of Uma when far away or the

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1142770992365542502006-03-21T19:21:00.000+02:002006-03-21T17:03:57.063+02:00

... keeps the sadness away?Here's hoping. Some of my favourite memories as snapshots. Hope the people who were part of them have good memories too...Going for a swim (yes it's me being hauled out because I can't lift myself!)Falling asleep at Pihljasaari (this isn't me in the pic!):Any time I got to walk on the sea or a lake!:Enjoying one of the spectacular non-sunsets at Juhannus:Being a

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1142955154326792632006-03-21T17:26:00.000+02:002006-03-21T17:32:34.393+02:00

Everyone has a shoebox, a collection of things they never use and rarely refer to. Bus tickets from foreign lands, movie tickets from a special date, a postcard of evocative memories.I start to unpack my shoebox. At first it's easy, a lot of travel paraphanelia which I easily throw away. Photos of ex boyfriends; I take one with me. A one lira coin; a yeni lira - I pocket this to give away to a

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1142854950811923702006-03-20T13:39:00.000+02:002006-03-20T13:42:30.843+02:00

I found a new home! E14, location of the freshly divorced designer studio and near to the Crisis main shelter stomping ground.I can't fit a cat in my room, let alone swing one, but it's all I need. I will only be there week days. She says...It's zone two, which cuts my commuting costs by about three pence and a bean and my travel time to work will be under half an hour, and not all underground.

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1142700791960089372006-03-18T18:37:00.000+02:002006-03-18T18:53:47.933+02:00

Yesterday, with the booking of the flight (March 27; Shelly tells me nine sleeps) it was dazzlingly sunny. I walked on the sea, only it melted with every step I took. Good thing I was wearing trousers. Yep, trousers - because it was so damn warm I could. And with nothing underneath (this got some looks from the boys; I meant thermals!)I ate liha piiraka, bought a ridiculous Helsinki t-shirt (see

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1142586799635738512006-03-17T10:52:00.000+02:002006-03-17T11:13:19.666+02:00

Sitting on the window sill with both the windows open and the sunlight is burning the back of my top, on the phone to the White Van Man, the first to learn and react to my news."This must seem like a smack in the teeth after all your optimism for returning here." Yeats is not the only Irishman to be poetic. It is, and it smarts.But there is also a relief at leaving, at being employed, the memory

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1142504194078945622006-03-16T12:11:00.000+02:002006-03-16T12:16:34.173+02:00

I'm ready now. I'm ready to get on a plane and go. To spend my last days frantically packing and playing with the snow. To ignore phone calls and text messages, to make people do things for me ("Its my last days in Finland") or actually make them realise I am going. Soon, sooner, now.It's a beautiful day for being selfish. I woke up this morning and decided I want to be selfish (or more selfish

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1142424369932263302006-03-15T13:55:00.000+02:002006-03-15T14:09:10.846+02:00

This is going to the longest two weeks of my life if I believe this eclipse theory. My head won't stop spinning from the events that unfold every day, then fold, then crease and crumple around me.Stop the phone calls, the three am ex, the ex from before I got married, the ex from beyond the alphabet. Back back - Nina stands on guard with a stake to drive through your hearts... if she can find

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1142292123597820692006-03-14T01:16:00.000+02:002006-03-14T01:22:03.626+02:00

Tonight... your friends rally round and take you to bars... you sleep well knowing someone loves you... you dream of your new love... you lay with your partner... you put your child to bed... you watch the TV and feel lazy contentment... you talk business into the small hours ... you sleep early to catch a plane to new adventures...The digital clock blinks 1:18AM. I talk to strangers in America.

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1142286729059718462006-03-13T23:48:00.000+02:002006-03-14T00:02:34.316+02:00

As the sunsets rather spectacularly (electric blues, snow tinted gold) on my final days here, I've started making little lists of things I want to do before I go (or at least a seasonal selection).As a lot of my "wot I dun" list has been done solo, then this list wants, nay demands, that some of it be done socially. Any takers, please shout.Build a snow man! Really the right kind of snow must

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1142185197859039232006-03-12T19:18:00.000+02:002006-03-12T19:39:58.186+02:00

If I had a dollar for every time some one had said "they're acting so out of character" or "something weird is about" or had seen an act of weirdness or someone act out of character in the last few weeks, then I could afford quite a few cakes at Strindberg cafe.The phone and email have been running hot with odd things happening to friends, or in fact to me. People not acting themselves, not

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1142074411164362872006-03-11T12:43:00.000+02:002006-03-11T12:53:31.200+02:00

It's 1243 in the afternoon in suburban Maunula. The sun is shining, I can't see a cloud, and because it's so bright, the sky is reduced to a blue haze. The thick (six inches) of snow outside my window intesifies the light. I've got my windows open and the air is cooling the flat, which is warm and dare I say it, sticky.Ministry of Sound is pumping, very loud - sorry neighbours.The flat is

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1142699074529409272006-03-10T18:21:00.000+02:002006-03-18T18:24:38.926+02:00

Japan 2005First bow Last bow Turkey 2005Entry visa Exit stampMorocco 2006First salaam Last salaam Finland 2005-2006The first email home The first blog The first daysWanting to stayLeaving the first time; the first of many teary bloggy byesThe one year anniversary

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1141919739084824962006-03-09T17:36:00.000+02:002006-03-09T17:55:39.153+02:00

I just submitted my first job application for the first time in years. Ok I lie, just before I came to Finland, I went to an agency but that's different, they don't even let you in the door if you're not invited...Anyway it was weird because, I haven't had to write a job application for years. And I haven't been declined a job after interview. Ever. And I applied through the Christmas Elves. Very

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1141904691520736922006-03-09T13:41:00.000+02:002006-03-09T13:48:02.146+02:00

If there was nothing that I could sayThis time it’s goodbyeTurned your back and you just walked awayThe song lyrics echo in my headLeaves me numb inside I think of youas if they were written for us, for meTogether is all I knewBut it’s always like that after a break up, every song is for you.We moved too fast but I had no signFriendship would just be a motion I would go throughI would try to turn

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1141904032986752002006-03-09T13:26:00.000+02:002006-03-09T13:33:53.023+02:00

International Women's Day yesterday.As women in Finland can already vote, it seems appropriate that my sistas (as opposed to sisters) and I celebrated be being as dysfunctional as possible, crying, pushing the boundaries of friendship, re-drawing the lines impossibly close to the bone, being hung up on men, being driven by men, being in love with men, being pre-menstrual, post-menstrual and

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1141771025082515302006-03-08T00:27:00.000+02:002006-03-08T00:43:11.103+02:00

Above: The first night...The plane lands, late afternoon, when the sky is greying. I remember little of the arrival. A well presented Finnish man smiles at me at baggage collect. I remember blushing. On the other side, it's terse and tense.We go straight to the flat. It's tidy, small and perfectly formed. I take a quick look, and notice he has stacked the kitchen with basics as well as thoughtful

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1141737449554918422006-03-07T15:10:00.000+02:002006-03-07T15:17:29.606+02:00

For someone who spent the good part of the Christmas period motivating tens of unlikely and disparate people to deliver tailored learning and social activities to some of London's most socially excluded people, I now find myself having a hard time finding the will or interest to get out of bed in the morning.I'm hoping this is some sort of post-Mexico time zone malaise but it's taken fairly

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1141691481363769012006-03-07T02:22:00.000+02:002006-03-07T12:50:08.516+02:00

"There's one thing I find really amazing about you Tom...Well... It's your total confidence that you will get married. I mean, what if you never find the right girl?""Sorry?""Surely, if that service shows anything, it shows that there is such a thing as a perfect match. If we can't be like Gareth and Matthew, then maybe we should just let it go. Some of us are not gonna get married.”"Well, I

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1141606592818135432006-03-06T02:40:00.000+02:002006-03-06T02:56:32.913+02:00

Can only breathe the sheets, which I press up against my face and smell the faint smell of musk, you, mingled with cigarette smoke. I inhale so deep that it becomes all I can smell. In the dark, it overwhelms.The other night, I suffocated. The dark pressing against me, the roof seeming lower and lower. All I could feel was what was not there. All I could see was the word that makes me recoil: "

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1141605605846631822006-03-06T02:38:00.000+02:002006-03-06T02:40:05.876+02:00

Feb 2005: Text message stored on my phone saying home is where I am.Feb 2006: Text message stored on my phone saying home is where I am.Feb 2005: Text message stored on my phone that says “I love you” in another language.Feb 2006: Text message stored on my phone that says “I love you” in another language.March 2005: SingleMarch 2006: SingleI’ve got to start reading my horoscope … !

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1141408983259448682006-03-03T19:53:00.000+02:002006-03-03T20:03:03.343+02:00

I'm in Wanha Maunulan Kahvila, sipping on Europe's most consumed and most awful coffee and nibbling on a very very sweet omena something pastry.The end date of the flat is negotiated. I'll book a ticket out in a few days. I'm asking friends for a sofa to sleep on in the days before I leave. It's feeling very final.It's a weird feeling. KM once said to me that I can make any place my home. That's

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1141334930236175062006-03-02T23:04:00.000+02:002006-03-08T00:44:10.363+02:00

The Finnish Dinner party. Or at least my version of it.It's always exciting to have people over to dinner. But even more so when they are infrequent visitors so you really want to be nice to them.So I got some Marimekko napkins, made my Malaysian chicken curry the night before (still not sure if it was chicken as turkey is branded Chicky and the label said something about suik which I thought

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1141297823828594922006-03-02T12:52:00.000+02:002006-03-02T13:10:23.860+02:00

If you can't beat them, get drunk in the market sqaure watching them.The Finland v Sweden Olympic Ice Hockey Final was such an event, that there was actually a minimal amount of drunks in the town centre during the game. Really.There was a lot of hype in town that weekend, with a alleged ticker tape parade in Helsinki for the returning athletes (well did anyone actually stay awake till three am

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1141249373856086822006-03-01T23:36:00.000+02:002006-03-02T23:32:24.543+02:00

In case you hadn't realised, I had been dumped by the SO. Hence the melodramatic postings.Today we met and did the stuff-swap and had the de-brief. I'm glad we did because one of the things that tormented me about The Finn was that I never knew why.I feel quite good now. Not necessarily because I know why but because I know that there is someone more dysfunctional than me. This is not just the

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1141204877392433062006-03-01T11:17:00.000+02:002006-03-02T23:33:29.116+02:00

You'd think that the UK has only just realised that in winter, it gets cold. After years of being in the northern hemisphere, this tiny island, battered by winds and oceans has only just realised that if snow falls, things might not work.I laughed so much when Google threw this headline past me: Snow gives pupils school holiday. At first I thought reporter Jon Snow was campaigning for a day

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1141202017647756662006-03-01T10:19:00.000+02:002006-03-01T10:33:37.686+02:00

It must be international women's day soon because I am getting lots of junk emails from random women saying they love me (but not enough to remove all the >>>> symbols in an email that has been forwarded a million times!).I've been spending a lot of time with the girls since I got back. It's pretty novel because I've never had girl friends that I actually hung out with. There are days when I get

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1141157417609679752006-02-28T23:04:00.000+02:002006-02-28T23:24:40.133+02:00

On Sunday, the weather would not let me be miserable. If I was three years old, or possibly fifty three years old, I would have sung "the sun is a very magic fellow" because it was so bright that the window sill got hot and it was a scorching plus three in the light (minus seven in the shade).Jonna took me for a walk on the sea, something that I don't think I will ever get bored of, especially

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1141203680600582662006-02-28T22:57:00.000+02:002006-03-01T11:01:20.626+02:00

As I have been walking the halls muttering about the end of dreams promised, it hasn't escaped me that this is what it was like for my husband when I left, and for A when I did the same. That what I feel now, and what I have been feeling in the trifecta of men who think I could be it but then re-neg, is that this is my just desserts.Personally I prefer a white chocolate mousse. I always say sorry

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1141161844934186162006-02-28T22:21:00.000+02:002006-02-28T23:24:04.996+02:00

I think sometimes I can see into two separate realities.There is where I am, which is full of pain and words that sound like Arhhguughuwp, full of crappy sorrowful writing and Gothic songs from mis-spent youth, and even worse, the coping mechanisms that go with that.And then there's one where the other half is, peacefully sleeping, undistracted working, able to go through the motions.I think

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1141201074506151842006-02-28T21:57:00.000+02:002006-03-02T23:36:07.446+02:00

Catching up with The Finn the other day (if you can call heavily laden strategic conversation catching up) we talked, amongst other things, about mutual colleagues and friends who were no longer with us.About the last five months of 2005, which the hacks are calling annus horribilis, he said that it seems that things don't just happen in isolation with me, but everything stacks on top at once,

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1141080399651248072006-02-28T00:39:00.000+02:002006-02-28T02:00:52.073+02:00

Look away now. There's nothing to see here. It's just that same girl from about this time last year using her blog as therapy and moaning (sometimes poetically, sometimes pathetically) about all in heart and mind.I guess I have learned nothing and yet have learned so much. These same four walls hear the same cries. This laptop could write the words of pain themselves.The only difference: I have

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1141079008359302132006-02-28T00:09:00.000+02:002006-03-02T23:37:24.080+02:00

I've been married. I've been divorced. I've had four other adult relationships of around eighteen months and lived with two of those. Currently I am extremely single, which means that for various reasons, those relationships didn't work.Am I scared of falling in love again? Am I scared of committment now? Am I scared of being hurt once more? No, no, no. Because no matter how many times I fall off

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1141077955762087252006-02-27T23:59:00.000+02:002006-02-28T00:05:55.806+02:00

Tonight I saw two exes for the price of one.Both who left for the same, almost unspoken reasons.It was too hard, too much risk, too wrong - but right. "Everything I've ever wanted but..." and the voice trails off before admitting.And I think, what kind of relationships are other people having? I thought that relationships are hard work, understanding, compromise, compassion. Not instant

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1141075416265550402006-02-27T23:09:00.000+02:002006-03-02T23:40:44.860+02:00

I am a train. My destination is clearly marked; a long distance journey with many stops.I pull out of the station, heavy with luggage, but as long as I've got a destination I know I'llkeep on trackkeep my rhythmstoke the enginemove.I roll across the countryside. The scenery mesmerises me; I leave my heavy cargo.Until -the train loses a passenger. And my engine stutters.But people depend on me

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1141074386653849262006-02-27T23:02:00.000+02:002006-02-28T01:54:42.383+02:00

Invisible; invincible.Untraceable; untouchable.If I spin the right way in the dark will I just vanish?If I walk far into the horizon will it swallow me?If I turn quickly and catch my shadow, will I become it?Two dimensional, two faced, too much.Can I go somewhere where I just am? Somewhere where I am everything, but not me?Disappear, disappoint, disillusioned.Just go awayJust awayGo awayJust

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1141074094224302532006-02-27T22:45:00.000+02:002006-02-27T23:01:34.270+02:00

I shut the door to your van and without thinking, leave my hand on the glass, long enough to mark it. It's a trademark I have long since forgotten and it takes me back to airport corridors, hotel rooms and taxi windows. I stare through the hand-shaped clear patch at you, familiar you, stranger you.You take the corner slowly, so slowly. Is it the snow, or is it...? I can't turn away. I watch your

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1140894613609028342006-02-25T21:06:00.000+02:002006-02-26T22:19:22.506+02:00

Things to do before I die... Admit I’m wrongBe happy in small thingsBe moved by musicBe reunited with something from my pastBe satisfiedBe someone’s best friendBecome debt freeChange careerClimb a mountain and a volcanoContest a classic rallyCook something new, successfully for someone I care aboutCry in a movieCycle through the

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1140892049483554612006-02-25T20:26:00.000+02:002006-02-25T20:27:29.556+02:00

Waiting for my pasta to cool I find myself undistracted, the computer unattended idling on its google searches, new software tips, music downloads. The CD player, which all night has skipped the happy dance tracks downloaded for friends, will only play baroque. I see movie soundtracks in every note.Waiting for my pasta to cool I find myself burning my tongue, impatient to eat, to consume, to

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1140878746674382672006-02-25T16:41:00.000+02:002006-02-25T16:46:49.383+02:00

Sometimes in life, you come across something that is too precious to hold, to delicate to keep, too impossible to maintain. A perfect rose, the water from a turquoise sea, a sunset.You have to let it go.Or learn to capture it in creative ways, and risk compromising the perfection of it.The beauty of it will stay with you always.Above: the Star of Jerusalem, which only flowers in the dark, is best

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1140791399787726872006-02-24T16:18:00.000+02:002006-03-09T21:49:44.993+02:00

The loss of another client, and the instability of a couple of others was a bit of a reality check yesterday.This morning, I wrote to the landlords and handed in notice. You're probably thinking it was a pretty hard thing to do but actually, this morning (after the 2am tear session) it was pretty easy. I've worked too hard and am to smart to live hand-to-mouth over here. Three months in the UK

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12064789.post-1140655050832583572006-02-23T02:12:00.000+02:002006-02-23T02:37:31.046+02:00

I've got a friend in Australia who's met a new love. Well actually not a love as such, someone she likes. I guess it's like a crush or an interest. She's resisting a little, because she doesn't want a relationship at the moment - not that it's even heading that way, but she figures she won't even look in that direction. When drunk, I emailed her (poor girl) lines of Bette Midler's The Rose:It's

Rowenahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13331847917068410951noreply@blogger.com1