What the hell?

As I was saying, the gym sucks. I never noticed how helpful the text provided next to the drawings was recently...when I found them conveniently covered with stickers translating them into Finnish. Now I'm left to decipher the torque capabilities of machines via cryptic pictures straight out of a high-school biology book. Irrespective of this communication blocker, I managed to lift a few kilos here and there. Never mind that my eye was glued to the clock. I counted every minute. bleck. Who really likes going to the gym? What's wrong with these people?

Tarja drove us to the gym last night. She lives less than one city block from the gym.

Why does this make sense? To avoid the ticket-wielding police. This might make sense if this were a big city. But it's not. And so we drive everywhere.

Let's see. This weekend flew by, even though we did oodles of fun things.

Irene:
... was coerced into playing croquette. Croquette can only be classified as fun to odd sorts of people.
... was repeatedly referred to as,"Blue Balls" by the party thrower. Even after careful translation, my hysterically funny new-friend Jukka thought it best to stick with "Blue Balls!" or "Miss New York!" (Exclamation points are necessary, since every sentence in English was enunciated at top audible levels;)
... went to the sauna (again)
... slept late for the first time in ages
... barbeque'd
... went to a party with Advertising people at someone's humongous house. (Who are these people my age masquerading about as adults??)
... went to the Turku castle
... walked around the seaside part of Naantali
... found the studio of a very cool artists who paints Finnish scenery with Ducks
... got rained on
... bought a big fat sweater due to the inclement weather.

Yep, that's right. It was freaking cold on Saturday. And so I had to buy a thick cable sweater to supplement my thin sweaters. I forgot how quickly the weather can turn, and luckily found a sale rack. (I made Tarja pay the piper, and indulge in a new leather coat. The sales were killer! Only a die-hard shopper will appreciate this, but this coat was only 30 euros; real leather, zip, stylish, cream, cut above the hip.)

Um, and there you have it. What Irene can remember right now as she sits in the now desolate office. It's 17:48 and there's NO ONE here.

Work is coming along and we're having a hoot trying to figure things out.

And I'm going to scoot out of blogness to wrap up some *** grading.

Later gators!

posted by irene @ 6/17/2002 10:49:00 AM