Resumes
"On several occasions, I have woken at night from a sound sleep, having had a vision of the perfect wording for a job-description bullet. "I didn't allocate, I formulated!" "I instituted, not initiated!"
Ain't that the truth. I started reading Tim Johnson's Diary of a Job Search on the WSJ. He's funny. (And if you're not subscribed and want to read it as well, email me.)
A few sprinkles from his writings:
Last month I went to an old friend's second wedding at the Buffalo Club -- in Buffalo, N.Y. The club is a throwback to another era; a time of game hunting and cigars, when men were men. Teddy Roosevelt ran the country from there as William McKinley lay dying next door from an assassin's bullet. As the hour grew late and the room filled with cigar smoke, I found myself at the bar with an investment adviser in his 50s who had had plenty to drink. We chatted a bit, then he asked me about my work. When I told him about my job search, he explained that providing investment advice was his cover for counseling people on matters of the soul.
We talked about meditation and the meaning of life. I didn't have to worry about finding a job, he explained. I simply had to spend a lot of time in silence, listening to my inner wisdom, and the problem would resolve itself. Then he passed out.
AND
The Internet is great for research, but I'm learning to limit and focus the time I spend online. When I had my own consulting business, I loved the convenience of working from my home office in my bathrobe. Some days I wouldn't get dressed until noon. Now that I'm unemployed, sitting around in my underwear is depressing. Spending too much time online can lead to sitting around in your underwear.
Tee hee.
And now that I'm looking for a cell phone, this hits home:
there are countless forms to complete. As if to taunt me, each form asks for my employer and work phone number. Even the checkout person at the supermarket where I applied for a discount card knows I'm jobless.
I went to see a doctor for a routine checkup. I left the employer portion of the form blank. The receptionist shouted across the waiting room: "Who's your employer?" I shouted back: "I'm unemployed." People buried their heads in their magazines.
Service with a Smile
In a recent study from Scandanavia
it has been found that taste buds
and laughter are interrelated.
The more you laugh
the greater your taste for life.
So said the lunch box they delicately place in front of you on the Helsinki Copenhagen leg. SAS rocks.
Listen to this: The compensation for being bumped from an international flight is either $400 cash. Or a voucher for $800. I was half hoping to be bumped. How crazy is that? But no. I'm home. (Or here anyway.) And feeling fine even though I failed to follow any of the instruction in the Passenger Facilities pamphlet.
"For your well being a few hints on how to land in good shape..."
Before the flight:
... Do not eat large meals and avoid fatty food. [Lunch: Double Hangover Cheeseburger at McDonalds. Dinner: Cream of Morel soup. er, oops.]
... Cut down on alchohol, coffe and tea, all of which tend to dehydrate the body. [I guess finishing a bottle of Glenlivet with Tarja was a no-no. But I skipped the coffee yesterday largely because I needed a nap mid-morning to cope. So there.]
... Do some light exercises to get circulation up. [Unless carrying suitcases counts, I'm out of luck.]
But no embolism for me!
Hallo New York!
I made it. Two planes. No forced sleep overs in Copenhagen. And a window seat to boot!
Ok, so the woman who sat next to me on the 2nd leg was uber annoying. (Why pick an aisle seat if you don't want to let other people out?) But I wasn't bumped.
After being robbed by the taxi ride, we went to the local Green Someorother 24HR Diner for a bite. As always a sophisticated clientele provided entertainment. They had to throw two women out after they began grabbing each other's hair. Nice, eh?
I am Cristina's right now procrastinating a shower. The parents are coming around noon to pick up luggage. And I'm rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.
Sigh. Must try and deal with subletters. Ugh.
Something to do
Ass Whooping Job.
Snicker. Imagine me as a self defence trainer.
Phone Number to Call in the States
631.698.0046
The home of my upbringing.
In Long Island.
You can leave a message on the machine, or talk to the dad. But please be sure to leave your number. Thanks!
Plans for Wednesday the 28th
Corner Bistro. Time to be decided. Loosely looking at 8pm. Open to earlier drinks, nibbles, etc. I will be zipping around NYC to see what I've been missing. (And when the hot asphalt is too much, I'll slip inside a store. Or too.)
Hurray! And it sounds like a few of you can come. And that Hovanec has been planning my life for me (since I can't;)
Think happy plane thoughts!
F*ck*
Well, not quite. But I jumbled up my arrival time into Newark.
I fly in 10pm on TUESDAY.
(Not Wednesday.)
And since I won't have any computer access again, I'm hoping everything works. And that I can remember people's phone numbers.
I was supposed to stay with Cristina. (But I'm not sure if this is still ok with her a day early.)
gah. What a mess.
But since my flight isn't quite as late as I thought it was, it won't be such a nightmare to train it out to Long Island. Hmm. Well, whatever. Still coming home. Arriving Tuesday.
In case any freakyness happens in the air, I'm flying SAS with a layover in Copenhagen. Cross your fingers, here I come!
You know what else is funny?
That I can keep track of the ongoings in the states thru word of mouth. Even though I haven't been doing my part in writing I feel like I know how people are doing. It's nice to have friends that are friends with friends.
Timing is Everything
Now that I'm ready to pack it all up, there's a really really low fare on Travelocity NYC-Helsinki.
RT airfare to the tune of $381.
Now you can all come visit a near-Scandic country...when I'm not there!
Whoohoo!
In case you're curious, I am still in parent purgatory. Even though my mother woke up at 6:30 (after going to bed at 3), she's still fiddling with the bags. Do you think [maybe] that she brought too much? Or that she needs to attend a class in suitcase efficiencies? And to make the entire experience a memorable family one (whip out those cameras), the 'rents are exchanging witty, caustic comments in rapid flashes of fire. Oy. How can it be so hard? Please remind me of this the next time the words 'family outing' are uttered.
In other news, it's still really hot here. On average there are normally no more than 12 consecutive days of sunshine in the month of August. For whatever reason(s), Finland is somewhere around day 22 and counting. My umbrella is beginning to rot. And I'm beginning to resent all the cool weather clothes I dragged along. I packed my trench coat. with my luck that means it will immediately become cold and I'll need the coat. But it's in the duffle. So too bad.
Ah, yes. Another thing I don't understand: TV Consumption.
Is there any reason to keep the volume really loud on the TV if the present programming is in a foreign language? Will the simple act of being louder vary the rate in which you do not interpret the words being spoken? It's a phenomena I've been witnessing the last few days with close family members. I'm stumped.
When my head clears (and I've had a chance to nap after the airport drop off), I'll sit down and tell you what not to do in front of an embassay with a camera.
Phoneless in Finland
Not that anyone is holding their breath to call, but I'm back to using Tarja's cell. If you've forgotten which number that is, don't worry. So have I;)
(eh. there's too many digits involved.)
So I have a question for you:
Who (if anyone) is going to be around August 28th?
A very very generous Cristina is letting me crash at her place fresh from Newark for a night. Then I was supposed to train it out to Long Island. However, the love affair with immediate family is temporarily on hold. Well, I want to prolong the day before I sit on the LIRR.
Whaat? I know. No sense here.
My dad has offered to come and pick up my luggage from Cristina's apartment. That way i can sleep a little later than the 7 am she needs to get up. And then possibly grab a real bagel sandwich. And whatever else it is people do in New York. And then head to Long Island later that night.
So if you're around, please let me know. I'm your loser friend who doesn't write regularly or call. And I have black hair. And you're usually taller than me. And I really like Corner Bistro. And people who drink beer instead of cider. And, oh, blah.
I will need an IV for my coffee drip later today.
Packing Fiasco
Feh. It's something like 2.30 a.m.
Why is irene awake at such an ungodly hour when she was only packing for chrissakes?
To clarify - Irene was helping Mom pack. The dad slept. Ok, and randomly poked his finger into the mix.
(Gee thanks. Very helpful.)
But now my parents have one navy issued duffel back stuffed to the brim with stuff o' irene.
Additionally:
... 1 teeny wheely carry-on
... 2 small borderline purse/camera bags
... 2 slightly larger than carry-on size wheely bags they are checking in
Uh. That's a whole lotta stuff. Can't wait to see the bus driver's face in a few hours. (It is his job to load and unload our baggage. Maybe he should be a shrink;)
Remember the term 'Emotional Vampires'?
Well, I'm being sucked dry one now. It's called a parent. Gee willagers (and I use that term because I'm at my wit's end), I love the gene pool but not when they've surrounded me in every waking moment for over a week now. I need air. And so do they. And they're leaving ahead of schedule.
Um, does this make me a bad person?
No. It just ensures that I will continue to have two parents for the time being. Or an accidental stangulation might occur. As my mother likes to say, the blood runs hot in our family. And we fight over who owns the last word.
The mom and dad leave for Madrid tomorrow afternoon. In order to facilitate their departure I am accompaning them to Helsinki. On a bus. That takes two hours and change each way. Oy, the joys of parenting. (Mind you we just returned from Helsinki yesterday day.) But we had to truck back to Turku to pick up the rest of their baggage. No one in my famiy has ever been known to travel light. (And this somehow explains the rocks my mother apparently packs in all her luggage. Believe me, it's all heavy.)
And then I have less than a week left. And um, that's all I've got kids. Not sure whatwherewho etc. But the panic attack will have to wait at least another day.
The plan for tonight is for Irene to fall asleep before the Dad starts his high-decible concert. The one with roaring elephants and trumpets. I am also planning to throw in some sleeping pills for added comfort. I am exhausted. My body needs more than 3 hours of sleep.
I have SO much to do, and am seriously behind in everything. I know, I know. I just came back from another little vaca and have no right to whine. But it's been virtually impossible to get anything done. The errand running you and I know and love is not what has been happening. I can't explain where the time goes, but it's gone in an instant. Especially when it takes more than three hours to get the team showered, caffeinated, and clothed. Is that not the craziest turn around time? Gah.
The biggest thing I miss about New York?
Air conditioning.
The white noise.
The cold, crisp air.
The coolness to which one awakes.
Oh.
And I really miss having my own bed.
The dad has been sleeping in mine now that we're back in Turku.
(Warning: Unless you are a home owner with multiple bedrooms do not fall prey to this deception. Parents should always stay in a hotel. A phone call away. And more importantly, with a minimum of two doors of separation.)
The mom has been sleeping on the coach in a vain attempt to avoid the dad's snoring.
And that leaves irene on a pull out.
That doesn't fully recline.
*yawn*
Awwww....
Yeah. So I'm exhausted right now, and weeding through mail and crappola. Not normally a fan of the chain mail that promises wonders of wonders. But Karen sent me this ....
1. I love you not because of who you are, but because of who I am when I am
with you.
2. No man or woman is worth your tears, and the one who is, won't make you
cry.
3. Just because someone doesn't love you the way you want them to, doesn't
mean they don't love you with all they have.
4. A true friend is someone who reaches for your hand and touches your
heart.
5. The worst way to miss someone is to be sitting right beside them knowing
you can't have them.
6. Never frown, even when you are sad, because you never know who is falling
in love with your smile.
7. To the world you may be one person, but to one person you may be the
world.
8. Don't waste your time on a man/woman, who isn't willing to waste their
time on you.
9. Maybe God wants us to meet a few wrong people before meeting the right
one, so that when we finally meet the person, we will know how to be
grateful.
10. Don't cry because it is over, smile because it happened.
11. There's always going to be people that hurt you so what you have to do
is keep on trusting and just be more careful about who you trust next time
around.
12. Make yourself a better person and know who you are before you try and
know someone else and expect them to know you.
13. Don't try so hard, the best things come when you least expect them to.
Whooooeee!!!
Back in the land of the living. Hungry, sleep deprived, and happy to be 'home' again.
I'm about ready to crawl under a bed to avoid the nagging of two irritable 'rents. (They don't travel well anymore.) Not sure why they're going at it right now, but I really don't care anymore. At some point silence becomes golden. Shhh!
Before I forget, the Queens apartment sublettors were NOT evicted. My stuff is still there. Not sure about forthcoming money from the law abiding con artists, but I'm happy to not be in the red.
I have a zillion tiny errands to run between now and tomorrow. And now the Dad is insisting he access the 'net' to plan. (He needs to book a room at the Barajas in Madrid for their trip home.) Bah humbug. I do not feel like sharing. It's mine! All mine!
But no.
Esp. since he forked out so much of our little trip to Tallinn. And boy was it nice. And definitely on the cheap side. NOW i see why ppl. refer to Tallinn as the suburbs of Helsinki. But more talk to come later.
Hallo from FIN!
God Damn it's Hot Here
And yes, I know how hot it is in NY. But it's been exceptionally warm here. So hot that the quickly aging parents tire easily. Which reduces the scope of travel. So instead of scouting out the oldest part of Turku, and perusing the vintage shops, we sought shelter at Memphis, a thai-indian-east blended restaurant, for lunch. (Never been to Memphis in the states, but I found it here. Funny. And funnier when I recognized the "More than Words" on the musak.) No traditional finnish food for us. It's weird, but there aren't as many Fin-focused ravintolas. Finns eat so much finnish food at home that they branch out while eating out. And it's tasty.
Did an assortment of shopping with the family, and finally purchased marimekko fabric to pull together a shirt. (They sell the same fabric the designer uses in the present clothing line, so anyone can sew their own creations at home. Kind of neat.) Booked the Tallin boat and hotel. And we're all set for our weekend to Helsinki. (We're staying at a Scandic hotel right in the center. And we're not donating an arm or a leg.)
Through the kindness of some Greek God, I was spared the indignities of the Ukko Pekka this evening. After soaking the Dad in the Baltic Sea, we fed, watered, and sauna'd the heck out of him at the Oikarinen Naantali abode. Leo went nuts with the gas-grill and wowed us with his marinating skills. Tossed in some strong coffee, chocolate, and amaretto for boot...I suppose to keep everyone's eyelids peeled open tonight.
While visiting the Sila (big boat dudes) office, I sold my parents on a trip to Aland. Aland is the island between Sweden and Finland. Our trip will be longer, but I can seek shelter in a many an activity, instead of watching bad folk dancing. Yay! I count my little successes and this one is a blessing.
The best part about the cruise will be the duty-free shopping. (And the flamingo dancers which apparently hang out in the disco club.) We shall see the archipelago, but from a significantly larger boat. I voted for the Silja line over the Estonian one, as the first time I was in Finland the Estonian line sunk over 800 people. No thank you. (Having the Estonians recently withdraw their latest ship also helped convince me.) Hey - I'm talking about two cruises and jumbling it all together. The cruise to Talinn is relatively short. About an hour and forty five.
Oh, and the hotel we're staying in Tallin is Finnish owned. Everything will be organized! And I might even get a private sauna in our accomodations. Plus, note this down, it was the former headquarters of spy activity. (And who, I wonder, was responsible for cleansing the building of surveillance equipment?)
Er. So that's the scoop. I'm watching my mother pack for my dad. Amazing how the old school not only allowed, but fully encouraged, the man to sit while being tended to. Why? How hard is it to keep track of your own socks, undies, and toothbrush? What should be a 10 minute packing job is turning into a saga. And my mother refuses to understand why I'm "waiting until the last minute". (Our train leaves tomorrow at Noon. N O O N.) It's 11.30 pm. I have oh, i don't know, 12 hours or so. Better hurry!
Besides, if I forget something, that's what stores are for.
I have also learned that minimizing the amount of unsupervised Dad time significantly reduces unnecessary aggravation.
And more importantly, cleaning.
And on that note, must go see what he is hollering about.
(Does he think I can hear through walls?)
Have a fabu weekend!
One More Thing
How would you interpret the following IM conversation?
him:i would like to meet you at some point
gooberene: deal
him: place the name with the face
him: ;)
him: a smiley face of course
Er. Let's see..
1) he's a
former student(!)
2) I said "deal" before I carefully read his comments
I thought we were wrapping up! You know, saying goodbye. Etc.
Oy. I made a mess. Before I could correct myself he signed off.
Weird thing. Well, there's lots of weird things. But he's more or less my age. And kind of smart. Well, in the I-can-string-big-words-together-coherently-sort-of-way. And his papers were interesting to read. After class ended he kept me posted on his job search. (He's contracting for a financial services firm
that I interviewed at, and desperately wanted the job) And I am irritated he has multiple job offers in the queue which he can't decide between. Grumble. The age similarity matters only because he's looking at Director level positions.
Remember, I read his papers. They were good. But not that good.
Fine. But I am not meeting the German in NYC.
Or, for that matter, the LA guy in CA.
Old News
Neither was looking for romance, but they found it in an unlikely place: at the polls. Both were precinct volunteers two years ago in this small town north of Concord. As a politician approached the table, Jennie muttered, ''The cheap (expletive). All he comes for is the free food.'' Dick said to himself, ''Maybe this is a woman I'd like to know better.
Ha! Brilliant.
The
story made me giggle. Jennie waited 82 years to find the right man to marry.
*sigh*
(Thanks to
Trisha for the link!)
Unlike my friends who are off cavorting in Africa, or running kitchens in Italy, or surfing for Carmen Miranda hats, I did some sightseeing in the
Sunshine Town. Ok. So it's not nearly as exciting as planning a party for the opening of sex museum, but the parents and I successfully navigated the local transportation system.
This is laudable for many reasons:
1) I lost neither parent
2) sanity (mine) was only lost on two brief occasions
3) the weather continued to hold out (no rain in the sunshine town)
We wanted to take the
Ukko Pekka day cruise over, but couldn't as the "summer season" is over. (School started this week.) Without a car at our disposal we took the bus. Yes sir ee bob. A buck fifty (and thirty cents) gets you to the outer limits of Turku. Multiply that by two and you're transported 17 km to Naantali. So what if we got slightly lost. But we found the harbor and had a really neat day.
My dad was most impressed with the church as "it was the coldest place in Naantali". (There is almost no air conditioning in Finnish stores. But it did feel incredibly refreshing to step into the house of God. Just for the wrong reason. Shhh.) We ate at the Mersiali Kahvila Ravintola. Buffets can be surprisingly delicious. And sanitary. (Remind me to run through that at some point.)
After sending my dad on a WC search (he surprised a gaggle of old bitties & met the chefs) we toured the shops. And ate ice cream. Mansikka, my favorite. And visited the Naantali Museum. And viewed a diorama of the former convent.
No, really.
The archeologists put together an actual building to house what some would deem a doll house.
After seeing the 'exhibit' I understand why cameras are not allowed. I'm sorry. It's not supposed to be funny. But the figurines used to represent the nuns, priests, and local church-goes were really, um, original. Based on our trip, I now think the nuns were fooling around with the priests. And drinking. And probably had little reason to leave the convent. Hee.
And according to my mom's observation,
" the nun outfits are big enough to hide a pregnancy."
Yes. That's what my
mother said.
So we had a good day.
And managed to find the return bus. We've eaten, shared some dry cider, and are now watching the most atrocious U.S. made-for-TV movie. (Hey, it's in English.) The other choice is a bad italian movie. (From the early 70's)
We're hoping to take the Ukko Pekka tomorrow night. It will be cheesy. The only remaining steam ship, we will ...
steam smoothly (no, that's what the brochure says) through the archipelago under the enchanting August moon. Sitting in the saloon, we can enjoy salads as starters and tase the wine on the ship and have a sailor's drink or the ship's special, a drink spike with strawberry lemonade. (I am still copying from the brochure) After debarking on the bare island of Loistokari, we will enjoy prepared smoked fish that the fisherman of Loistokari has prepared.
... blah blah blah...here's where it gets funnier....
A shot of tar liqueur complements the meal beautifully. Tables and benches have been set up for dining on the cliffs (Drinking and cliff side seating are a good match?)The evening culminates with dancing on the quay.DANCING
My parents are taking on me an oldies dinner cruise. I will be the only single young person on board. It's from 7 til Midnight. My life has come full circle.
Even though the
"Ukko Pekka is a music boat filled with happy swing and beautiful tunes", I worry for my sanity. Even if dancing
"goes on in the saloon on the return journey."
Thursday is "Nostalgia and Smoked Fish" theme night.
I hope that doesn't involve old Finnish tango and/or folk music.
Keep those fingers crossed for me!
Oh! And no news on the apartment yet. A letter in spanish was sent to the daughter of the person I sublet from this evening. (And boy is my spanish spelling in need of remedial assistance.) We're still working on the he-said-she-said approach. Loverly.
Flying
Brother of mine! Call me.
+358 50 361 8466
Must purchase ticket tomorrow at latest.
Ok, Thursday.
Get this kids: It's only going to cost Irene $124 OW to fly to San Diego.
Isn't that awesome?
Is this supposed to make me feel better or worse?
In the auto-reply that emode sent in response to my registration it said:
Did you know?
50% of Pit Bulls have laughed so hard they peed in their pants.
Break out the Depends.
I don't do plants
Survey says(!)...
"YOU WILL BE MARRIED BY: Saturday, July 22, 2006"
Um, ok.
Emode Test: The Wedding Date Predictor
I had to fudge on no. 9.
And dagnabbit, yes. I prefer to drink the summer outdoor beer from a cold bottle. What's wrong with that willis?
Moving on to other fun brainless activity, I was surprised to see the results of
What Breed of Dog Are You?
Irene, you're a Pit Bull!
No bones about it, you're a commanding Pit Bull with a bite as big as your bark. Authoritative and aggressive, the power position is the only one for you — and you never have trouble making that crystal clear. Keep reading for more about your puppy personality...
Oof. Time to reassess. I always pictured myself with a cutesy cuddly dog. Not one that could conceivably bite my hand. Maybe
I need to go to People Training.
Maintenance
Parents are a handful. Thankfully they're both napping right now. At least someone is getting some sleep. Egads.
Two nights in a row where Irene -tries- to go to bed before midnight, only to be kept awake by very talkative loving parents. Oh, and then they found every zipper known to mankind and used them before 7 am. And just in case I wasn't quite awake, they opted for the direct approach, asking questions:
Irene, where's the remote?
(guess the TV wouldn't bother me since it's only a foot from my head)
Irene, how do you turn on the TV?
Ireeennneee, where's the english channel?
Hey! Why isn't this working?
and so it went.
I am tired. My eyes are bloodshot. Me tired. Will write when I can.
Tomorrow we plan on taking a steam boat cruise to Naantali. Planned points of interest to include:
...day of island exploration (gardens, piers, shops galore)
...president's summer home
...kirkko (goodness forbid we miss a church. ugh. irene making soft gagging noises)
...and of course, some food.
If I can convince my pruddish mother, we shall sauna at the Oikarinen abode. My dad signed up even before the invite was formally extended, but that's him. The mom is a tad bit hesitant. We shall see.
Tarja is coming over in a few to have some tea.
Did I mention how LOUDly my dad snores?
*sigh* Must purchase ear plugs.
I haven't been named yet (in the lawsuit. t'is a good thing I officially changed my post office address.)
keep your fingers crossed. But I'm not in the hole any money yet. I managed to put a stop payment on the last check. It's such a complicated story. But well, so is life.
But s'ok.
The parents are arriving Sunday.
Hurray! Fun.
And Nina is coming with Nea and Viljam to Naantali. (Tarja's cousin's wife & her two cute kids; ages 3 & 2.)
A good ole party. So long as the munchkin stops calling me horse.
I reiterate. I do not believe I look like a horse. If you disagree, well, then, kindly keep it to yourself.
Cheers kids!
Litigation is a scary word
So is lawsuit.
People are not honest.
Even people your family has known for over 20 years.
Can't get into details. But damn has my vocabulary gotten larger today.
And no, I did not throw up. I am have a pounding headache. But my tummy has returned to normal-ness. Tarja bought me a strawberry icecream which I'm eating (even though my teeth protest it's too cold). It's kind of working.
Gaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh
30 minutes and counting until the ax falls.
I do not handle waiting very well.
Keep your fingers crossed that everyone remains calm, cool, and collected.
As well as honest, morally responsible, and financial solvent.
Brain clogged. Writer's block in progress...
Ouch. I am zapped. Instead of looking for a job, revising my resume, or sending out feelers, I've been purging my in-box. I've written more letters than I realized I need to...but yet still have a queue of people I desperately owe communicae with. AGGGGhhhhhhh!
I'm sorry. I've been a really really bad friend. Self involved, but not so much. I have been loading up on the necessary souvenirs. And realized that my teeny suitcase wasn't going to hack it. So i've upgraded to a nifty delsey bag with wheels. One that irene can drag thru airports, but will never be able to lift into an overhead compartment.
Ok, ok. So that's not really a remedy to the situation. But I'm slogging through the mail and probably jumbling things left and right. But that's not that unusual, now is it? I do that in normal conversation. ouch. It's genetic, really!
I place full responsibility on my defective geneoly with my dad's side of the family:
Flat feet, short stature, and rambling sentences.
But god (who I normally reserve for profanity and ridicule) help me, don't let me end up looking like him. Gah. Though cute as a young man, the sr. dad is aging. If you've seen him in recent months, there was a period where his grey hair collected in one section of his head...kind of making him look like a skunk. (He vehemently disagrees with this opinion. But mom is on my side;) In case you're curious, the silver dollar has mysteriously disappeared without the use of any hair remedies.
As a diversion, before I write to Livea (who is hopefully doing really really well), let me tell you about the Mormans:
They're here.
I know very little about them, except that they recruit. And they're based in Utah. And the two that I've met are really really nice people.
Two things:
1) I noticed they were here b/c they were all dressed like Dilbert
2) there are some interesting point of views from ex-mormons.
See something calledTheGoodNews.Org
And I'll quote from a former member:
Questions about Rauni's new faith began, however, during her first visit to the LDS temple in a village near Bern, Switzerland. There she was introduced to the secret ordinances required in Mormonism for entrance into the highest level of heaven.
"It was a shock," she said. "In preparing for the temple experience, Mormons are told how beautiful and wonderful the experience is, and how you are getting the higher knowledge of God ... . Well, when I went through the temple I didn't experience that at all."
She was asked to remove all her clothes, and a "shield" was placed over her body. Then she was ceremonially "washed and anointed" by a temple worker. She was given a new name and an undergarment that she was supposed to wear 24 hours a day for the rest of her life. But more alarming were the secret handshakes, accompanied by oaths of secrecy signified by signs that included a swipe of the thumb across the throat. The signs indicate how life can be taken if the handshakes are revealed to anyone outside the temple.
"I could not figure out how a loving God would hold the handshake so secret that if I was to tell somebody I would be killed the way shown in the temple," she said. Later, she learned those and other elements of temple ceremonies had remarkable similarities with those of Freemasonry and occult religions.
Uh. Ok. Weird, no? I wonder how successful their 'saving' process has been here.
I'm going to hurl
I am preoccupied with the sublettor issue i have at hand.
Lesson learned:
.... never ever EVER rent to lawyers
.... or sell them anything
.... or talk to them unless you're paying an hourly rate
I thyink i'm about to get screwed for a month's rent. And there's nothing i can do about it. which wipes out the meager savings i had. which more or less prevents me from doing anything, except auctioning myself off on ebay. *sigh* i am partially to blame, but still. i do not deserve this. and i will stop ranting without explaining what i'm talking about. the tangent has ended. (but the coffee induced caffeine rush continues. my god the finnish make strong coffee. oof.)
yes. i am back to coffee.
(doesn't that sound dire? it's only coffee, and so what if my bones collapse 20 years down the road? i need mental stimulation to prepare me for this afternoon's "phone call" with the evil sublettor.)
Europeans vs. Americans: Vacation Time
It's not fair. Read this:
... French hours-reduction law gave Thierry Gaymard, a manager of nine Toys "R" Us stores north of Paris, 9½ weeks of vacation, more than twice as much as he got before the law was introduced. Instead of cutting his work week, he's taking longer vacations.
Mr. Gaymard has used the extra time to lower his golf handicap and attend more school activities of his two young daughters. And he's begun building a new house, about a third bigger than his family's current home. For his American wife, accustomed to two- to three-week U.S. vacations, it was a "pretty big shock," he says. Now: "She loves it."
I'll bet she does. He's a retail manager. Why did I go to college? My parents should have auctioned me off on ebay to obtain a sham marriage in exchange for a euro passport. *sigh*
If you can read the wsj online, see the
full article.
If I ever hold a corporate job in the future, I will have zero sympathy for my european colleagues who fall behind on projects. I almost fell over when I learned about the generous maternity leave that most eu countries have, but felt like barfing after reading this article. grumble.
Assorted Pictures
Stuff from film I developed while here, but taken eons ago...
[Saucy Dressing]
Check out the lapels on P's coat...
[the Queens]
Spanish food + hovanec concocted Sangria = Successful Dinner Party.
(Amy, Jenny, Perrin, and Erin.) I decided to invite people over to celebrate my Scient lay-off. In good spirit, I overdid the shopping and ended up having too much food. But the left over sangria was v. yummy.
[Pennsylvania]
Can you tell hold cold we are?(erin, her mom, ophelia and moi) Last fall hovanec pampered me near Scranton. Her mom (see her here being the uber technologist) went to extremes and followed the same rule my Finnish hosts use: If she's awake, feed her. Here's evidence: e's mom, jim, e, and myself after eating (and drinking:) too much.
On the same trip to PA, erin's mom thought this jacket would be appropriate for public viewing. (I think my favorite were the short sleeves to complement e's long arms. No, wait. Or was it the fur trimmed hood? Or the snap buttoned waist? hmmm...)
You can take a girl out of the city, but never make her a city driver.
Erin in the PT Cruiser
The backseat of the PT Cruiser was chock full of shopping bags. What can I say, there was a sale. Think of the money we saved. Right.
Last, but not least,Ophelia being tortured. Or acting out her inner faschionista tendencies.
Hey! Don't feel like working on what I'm supposed to be doing.
Here's Perrin, me, and Alison.
Where: Can't Remember
When: A While Ago
Me with lipstick on my tooth with the Future Chef of the World... and the person who I am neglecting in Italy. We took this picture ages ago right before she departed for warmer territory. (well, first she went to Maine, which i imagine must be a bitch in the winter, but then she went to southern europe.)
(note: I have no patience to fiddle with the center vs. link to popup connection. I'm doing something wrong but I'm content to be lazy.)
Not that the rest of you are not photo worthy. I have way too many photos. And I need to do something with them. But the question is what. It's a project I'd much rather work on than my resume, so maybe I'll tip toe into that later today. Until then, I have to force myself to deal with my least favorite student of all time: the thesis plagerist.
Having gone so far as to title the subject of an email "Serious Breach in Ethics - Copy / Paste Phenomena" to said student and the director of the program, I am still saddled with this cheat. I am not happy about this. It is a never ending process which requires a significant investment of my unpaid time. (I get paid only upon submitting the paper to the department, and I think pigs will fly before I grant a stamp of approval.) As I've said before, anyone can obtain a post graduate degree. Especially lazy people whose wealthy familes will continue to pay for their education. Where's my sugar daddy?
And why do I have to read sentences like:
Little creativity and uniqueness could greatly affect usability. Just doing what others are doing could not be the wining criterion for the highly competitive Internet nature; rather it just keeps companies to stay in the industry. To attract new customers, especially young generations, to snatch customers from competitors, and to retain existing old customers, web site implementers must provide better contents, functionality, and structures than their competitors do, and these could greatly enhance usability.
In case you missed it,
wining by definition," provides entertainment with wine."
Wining may play a part in the seller's strategy, but probably isn't the deciding factor in a buyer's mind. Unless you're dealing with a die-hard drinker. Gah. I am beginning to lose perspective of what English is. Hopefully it will turn out funny as in
Me Talk Pretty. But probably not.
Cripes. It's Thursday. And I missed my window of opportunity to write to my friend in Italy. I am a bad friend. She only has access once a week, and I forgot. eep.
Planning is Futile
So taking the computer out of the office did not go as planned. I packed it, carried it, and left it at Tarja's apartment in order to run errands in town. While perusing the racks in Stockman, a department store, we were joined by Pekka. One thing led to another, and we headed directly to Naantali. So basically I've learned that taking the computer out of the office is a complete waste of time, as I never end up using the damn thing when I drag it home. Not that any of this is interesting, but I'm in a talkative mood, and there's no water cooler gang to torture.
Symbolism people. This is the story of my life. I can't plan too far in advance, as things have a tendency to deviate from shedule. The results of which aren't always such a bad thing. In fact, they're often fantastic. Ok, so last night was nothing special to write home about, but it was just plumb ole nice. We ate, talked, chit chatted, and did the Brady Bunch thing. I went to bed at a decent hour, and played with all of my new pharmacy purchases. Was that bad? No. Does my skin feel fabulous? Yes. Are my nails are tarted up? Yup. You get the picture. I'm spending my summer in Finland. And that's enough.
And now you know why it's taking me ages to write. But I'm working on it today, as my parents arrive Sunday.
21 days and counting down to my departure. Weird. As now I can comfortably discern the difference between hepo and heippa. As I learned from Viljam, who is wise at the age of 2, hepo means horse. He kept calling me that the last time I was in Espoo. Endearing only because he's sooooo cute (and that I do not look like Hillary Swank and that he was carrying around a picture of a horse), I realized I had been saying 'horse' instead of 'goodbye' for ages. The depths of my mispronunciation brings new meaning to off-key. Yowzer.
And now I see why people keep blogs. It's therapeutic.
So what if I'm building enemies and burning bridges with the click of a mouse. I feel liberated. And less likely to pout at the inane.
Not everyone rec'd the memo when brains were handed out...
It's one thing to ask a question when you need it quickly, even though you could perform your own research to find the same answer. I understand the need for speed, and advice from a subject matter expert. What I do not understand, and fail to have any sympathy for, are people wtihout any common sense. Consider the following email sent to an professional alumni distribution list:
-----Original Message-----
Subject: [onfired] Suspicious email from Yahoo?
Hey all,
I am wondering if anyone thinks this email from
Yahoois legitimate? It seems like someone trying to
get access to my email account vs. Yahoo really trying
to organize the # of accounts they provide.
Read this, and please let me know what you think. I'm
thinking its not actually Yahoo but some scam company.
Don't want to lose my main email account but don't
want to give out private info. Thanks in advance for
your thoughts.
Dear Yahoo User,
The Yahoo servers are currently under heavy stress due
to
unproportional usage of our email services. Thus, the
Yahoo Staff has decided to
reduce the number of Yahoo accounts by a huge margin
to regain its
potential.
All accounts which are currently not under use shall
be removed
permanently from our web servers. If you wish to
retain your Yahoo account
kindly send an email to
Administrator_Yahoo@anonymous.to with the subject
as "CONFIRMATION" and the message body containing the
following details
separated by colons(;)
Login ; Password ; Date of Birth ; Country
Accounts not confirmed shall be rendered terminated.
Yahoo sincerely
regrets the inconvenience caused to its clients.
The Yahoo Staff
----------------------------------------------------------------------
I don't know the person directly, but she has forever stamped an impression of her dim-witted self on my brain. I mean really. From the list discussion, she obviously spent time following up on the matter. (She sent a letter to yahoo customer service. Goodness knows what other mail groups she belongs to that were also subject to her plaintive plea for help.)
What further raised my ire, were the number of people who actually publicly responded to her question in a serious manner. Oh! And let us not go unnoticed the original message they included in their response. Grrr. I had the pleasure of skimming through her email at least four times.
How do these people function in every day society? Do they wander around major metropolitans with their wallets flapping open and cash fresh in hand when they withdraw from an ATM? And would you want to have her working for you? Ouch. I know. That was mean. But do you see my point?
Slower than molasses
Sweet bejeebers this internet connection is super slow. It reminds me of the dial-up days when you could literally paint your nails while waiting for a page to download.
But now that the page is finally open, I have to go. But I'm taking my laptop home with me to write some "real" communicae.
Toodles from a noodle.
:)
Alison I think you rock in this job.
Regularity
I am incapable of writing a daily summary of my activities. I don' t normally do this in real life, and will not be doing so here. Why the explanation?
A person, who shall remain nameless, informed me that my blog was not really a blog. Uh, excuse me? I don't know what it is, but it's mine. So therefore I (and let me emphasize that) I get to decide the content of my site. If you don't like it. Don't read it. And find something more productive to do with your time.
People.
And besides, I know you're not interested in hearing about my cramps. But you've just seen my crabbiness. Aren't you the lucky one? ;)
Anyhoo. Watching the news today I realized that few, if any, places exist in the world anymore that are safe. Safe being defined as,"Secure from danger, harm, or evil."
Part of the decision to head to Finland centered around the belief that no harm could conceivably happen 'up there'. As Tarja put it," We're too far away from anything important and no one remembers we're over here."
And so I ended up in Finland. In the 2nd largest city.
In the time I've been here the following events have transpired:
... Car bombing on a major street in Helsinki (as soon as I arrived)
... Shooting in Mikkeli townsquare (where I studied). (On the night we drove into town, but were too pooped from our trip to socialize.)
... Two children (ages 16 & 17) were sentenced for planning and executing the murder of their employers (resellers of stolen goods, but still)
... Attempted robbery in Turku with machine guns. (men still at large)
The last one happened yesterday. Granted, we don't normally go to that shopping center. Point being, safe is a relative concept.
Dogs
Timing is everything. I saw Men in Black this weekend. Kind of funny. But the dog song followed me. I kid you not, Who let the dogs out was a prominent featured 15 minutes into the movie.
Sigh.
On a similar-yet-unrelated note, I stumbled across101 Uses for Lab while looking for a gift. I was browsing under photography books, and was curious about the title. If you haven't done so already, look at how cute the cover is. Awwwww.
I sent my parents a shopping list. I think they're going to kill me. It's full of things they never buy (mainly whiskey) and they leave Friday. Knowing my mom she won't trust my Dad to be a responsible shopper and she'll take over. Sometimes delegation is a good thing. But not for my mom.
I think I found my dream job:
Brand Ambassador for a whiskey house.
Bad Music
Who let the dogs out? Whoomp, whoomp.
Who let the dogs out? Whoomp, whoomp.
Who let the dogs out? Whoomp, whoomp.
I hate that song. Despise it. The last time I heard it I was in a sweaty summer
bar in the hamptons (don't I sound the snob) with the Alcholic. My shoes stuck
to the floor. If you were smart, you grabbed toilet paper before they ran out.
Anyhoo, that was almost two years ago. And I heard the song -yesterday- while walking
around a mall in Finland.
p.s.The mall outside of Helsinki is called "The Big Apple
tee hee.
The Joys of Education
So what's happened in la-la land that's encouraged
Irene to study Finnish? A high percentage of people 30 and under speak English.
Go into almost any shop where the mastercard/amex/visa logos are flashed and
you'll be able to discuss spending money in English.
Well, the act of shopping. It started out with basic necessities (food, beer,
dry cider, etc.) and has moved into shoes (of course), gift items, and books.
It was the books that finally did me in. After being asked the umpteenth time
if I wanted,"Pussi", I figured I needed more than a dictionary.
(Pussi = bag. But my limited dictionary didn't have this form. Only
Pussittaa.)
I purchased two sets of Finnish for Dummies. Specifically, Colloquial Finnish
(€53.90)and Finnish for Foreigners (2 books/€20 each).
Both have been an endless source of entertainment. To begin with why would anyone
allow, let alone encourage, a non-native to write such a book? After buying
a non-returnable Book/CD combination set written by a Brit, I've decided it's
not a good idea.
Daniel Abondolo, author of Colloquial Finnish, has picked some interesting
conversations to translate and educate people like me. Foreigners. (As everyone
continually points out. God bless them. Otherwise I might have forgotten.)
Open the book to
kappale viisi (chapter five) and you find:
Mitä me ostetaan?
("What'll we buy?" That's verbatim. What'
ll.)
After listening to the dialogue Tarja loosely somes it up: White trash goes
to buy crappy booze at the state monopoly. Our characters go to the
off-licence
to buy cheap champagne (never a good idea). 1) Off-licences are in the U.K.
and Ireland 2) Finland sells hard liquor only at Alko.
Daniel becomes stingy with paper as the book progresses along, and decides
not to translate spoken dialogues. After chapter 6, he assumes you have mastered
sufficient Finnish to listen, read, comprehend the meaning of two people chatting.
It would be nice to first try and translate solo, but then have a reference
to verify that you've understood correctly. But noooo.
...Mä en oo ihan varma. Me ollaan yleensä Mikon kanssa menty Seurassaareen
kattoon sitä perinteistä juhannuskokkoa, mut tänä vuonna
ajateltiin tehda jotain muuta! ...
Irene picks up a dictionary, and tries to decipher the mystery.
... "I am not too certain. I am generally with Mikon...um ...at this place
called Seurasari. (And I only know that Seurasari is a place because I've been
there)
kattoonn = ceiling/roof (?) traditionally midsummer, ...
mutta
means 'but' but this sentence has
mut ...
tänne = 'give,
give it here' but
tänään = 'today'
ajatella = 'think,
plan on doing'
jotta = 'so, that'
muuttaa = change...
...I am not too certain. I am generally with Mikon under a roof in Seurasari
(?) for a traditional midsummer bonfire, but today i think that changes.
Er, what was the person saying? And how do I know if I'm right in any of my
assumptions? And what the hell does
vuonna mean?
or for that matter,"
swotting"???
(a British term for comes up repeatedly in the book. It's not in this passage,
but I should have had some warning the overpriced bookset was geared toward
the Brits.) grumble.
The Long and Short of It
My hearing is poor. It has always been, and will inevitably get worse. Having
a cold only makes learning Finnish a more ridiculous task. Padding my visual
vocabulary is one thing. Hearing the difference between a long and short emphasis
is another. Adding one measly letter has implication. Consider the following:
| short |
long |
translation (short) |
translation (long) |
kuka |
kukka |
who? |
flower |
mato |
matto |
worm |
rug |
kasa |
kassa |
heap |
cash register |
olut |
ollut |
beer |
been |
NOW the blank look on the bartendar's face makes sense.
Push-Button Publishing for the People
So they (blogger) promise.
I must not be people.
Alright, alright.
So I'm not smart enough to fiddle with anything.
Grrr.
As you already know, patience is decidedly not one of my virtues. I am uber cranky and want someone (anyone) to come and fix something for me. Or at least explain why something that worked perfectly well yesterday is n o t working today. (why, exactly, is my mug not showing?)
...
Oooooooh! "Sorry for inconvenience, but Fotki is temporarily down.
Please come back in 10..15 min." (yeah, the great service I subscribed to yesterday.) Hmmmph. So no picture showing right now. Humbug. I developed a roll of film that's over a year old. Bear Mountain, my paella dinner party, and a trip to Scranton are all on it. When I can, I'll show you.
Sniffle, Sneeze, Hack, Cough
I have turned into a sniveling, tissue-touting, red-nosed phlegm ball.
Nothing I say or do makes any sense to me, or anyone in the immediate vicinity. I babble. And sneeze. Alot. For doing a surprisingly little amount of physical activity, I am exhausted. But yet manage to sleep over 10 hours. Puzzling. Oh, and I have apparently opened a snot factory. I should consider owning tissue stock on the side.
And now it's raining. Pooey.
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