Tomorrow could be boring

More bubbles

My first product is in the shops. Specifically: the product idea I came up with, helped develop (both conceptually and as a fragrance) is now out worldwide. Customer feedback has been encouraging. So far, nobody (openly) hates it. So far, many people like it.

It feels very strange to have something that you've dreamed up - out in so many homes. People will walk around smelling of something I had a part in creating.

I hope so very, very much that this is first of many. I'm going to carry on as if that were the case. You never get anywhere by simply hoping, now do you?

(P.S. If you want to know how this all started, read some of the story from "Why I think I'm a nose").

What I did on my holidays (or: orcs in my face and lemon verbena up my nose!)

I've had a week off and now that it's coming to an end, I am just about starting to twig that this is a ho-li-day. Having said that, I've had a really good time; going to the theatre, planting herbs and flowers in the garden, reading books, playing Lego Star Wars (the complete saga) on PS3, baking and cooking... and making perfume. What I haven't managed yet, is a single entirely leisurely day. No, I'm not surprised either. But then again - if doing nothing = boredom and if boredom = torture, then why should I have to subscribe to the idea that relaxation means doing nothing. Maybe I've misunderstood. Maybe the relaxing kind of doing nothing is in fact, intensively focused meditative "doing nothing", in which case it really is "doing something" after all.

So, about the orcs. We went to see Lord of the Rings musical at the Theatre Royal (Drury Lane, London) on Tuesday just gone. The stage design, lights, choreography and circus skills were breath-taking. The whole stage (and some of the viewing boxes immediately around it) were encased in twining wood-like structures. We sat on the second row off the front and the effect was particularly strong; it felt even more participatory than theatre normally does (and, erm, more about that aspect of this experience shortly).

Some of the more challenging aspects of the LOTR story - the riders, Balrog and Shelob - were shadow-puppet-like, live silhouettes on stage, aided by excellent puppetry skills, smoke, light and sound. The battles were similarly stylised; some more circus-like, but all adrenaline-inducing and a joy to witness.

There were some oddities that snagged on the otherwise beautifully put together tapestry. The ents (always my favourite in this tale) were cleverly executed and the costumes were a fun interpretation, but they seemed to be on stage for a disappointingly short time, considering the effort that must have gone into putting them together in the first place. I didn't understand why the actor playing Frodo had adopted an oddly strangulated, nasal style of delivery (is that what Hobbits are meant to sound like? None of the others spoke that way). I wasn't sure about some of the casting choices. And the story and dialogue were delivered in a kind of a hurry; I wondered how hard it must have felt to tackle this epic at the beginning of the script writing process: "Guys, we have to squeeze thiiiiiiiiiiis many words into, cough, a couple of hours."

Having said all that, the cuts and adjustments they'd made were good and what they'd done towards the end in particular, by keeping in some of the important symbolism and commentary present in the original work, was excellent.

One of the most delightful elements of this LOTR version was the music. Although only one gorgeously melancholy and contemplative song seems to have stuck in my head like a song borne out of true musical theatre would, and the others have just left behind a general impression rather than their melody - nevertheless, the musical portion of this theatre production was superb. It added Tolkien's folk-song flavour, the elves' melodies and the atmosphere of ancient lore told through music and only imagined in our heads when reading the original books. Involving the Finnish ensemble Värttinä in the production of the score is a lovely correlation to Tolkien's love of Finnish mythology, although according to the members of the band, their addition to the project happened more by chance (scouring world music and chancing upon this song) than by intent (on being true to the roots of Tolkien's folklore research). Influences of Indian music could be heard throughout, which is not surprising, as the other half of composing came from the famous A.R. Rahman.

There were two intervals, the second of which was not long enough for people to get out of their seats, so instead... there was some interval entertainment in the form of orcs galavanting around in the audience! I was sat by the aisle on row 2. When the level of hubbub-hubbub-hubbub of general interval noise had raised to normal sort of standard, I spotted an orc about 6 rows behind us, staring down some poor tourist. So I turned my back to the aisle and said to my husband:

"Look! Look! There are orcs in the audience!"

Husband: "Um, honey?"

Me: "Look...loo... what?"

Husband: "Behind you."

Me: (turning to face the aisle): "AIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Everyone within 2 mile radius: "Ahahahahahaha!"

There was an orc wearing one of the best pinhead-meets-hobgoblin theatrical make-up and costume ensembles RIGHT IN MY FACE, growling and drooling. Ok, maybe not drooling.

Afterwards, husband couldn't stop laughing: "I swear he enjoyed that."

Me: "Well you certainly did!"

(The orc actually came back to me for round 2 a moment later! For some reason I couldn't entirely concentrate on the show for the first few minutes once the curtain lifted for act III).

LOTR musical closes on 19th of July 2008, so you can still catch it! I recommend staying alert during the second interval.

For the rest of the week, I've not gone on any great outings, but I've gone a bit Bree Van De Kamp and baked, made food from scratch, tidied and brought in some cut roses from bushes I've grown over the last 2 years from little stumps in my garden.

And most evenings, I've allowed myself to indulge in perfume making (I say allowed because due to the still-quite-unbelievable-have-to-keep-pinching-myself turn that my career has taken, perfume making could now be considered "work" and I'm supposed to be on holiday. But I am too obsessed about scents to consider it work in the sense of "something one should ever stop thinking about". And I've been too busy on more important things with deadlines during working days, so I haven't really had the time or energy for concocting much).

The result is a scent I feel quietly hopeful about. I like it very much, but wonder whether it would be liked by others. I'm hoping to finish it soon and put it to the test. It's a heady mixture of Lemon Verbena, Orange Blossom Absolute, real Nectarine essence, Jasmine Absolute and soft woody amber notes. The opening is like lemon sherbet and summer fruit. It then warms to a sweet, honey-like floral (like a night garden full of white flowers) and dries to the smell of sexy, sweet skin. There is a home made perfume strip with today's batch notes written on it hanging from the makeshift "clothesline" above my computer. As it's a pure, undiluted concentration, the whole room smells of it now. Oops. I wish I had a lab.

I'm off to make some muffins now!

Busy bee

There's a sort of "keeping yourself busy"-busy, a "busy because you've procrastinated on some important things and now they're all overdue"-busy, a "wow, that last thing I took on was probably a step too far"-busy and the "getting through a big pile of things at a steady jogging-pace, but if I stop I might find it hard to pick up speed again"-busy.

And many more, I'm sure. I'm at that last one. It's interesting. I feel comfortable there. I'm also aware that soon I'll need break. And I'm also aware that in my personal life, I tend to ignore things like going to the dentist until I absolutely have to, or drop recreational activities in favour of work too easily.

Having the OU level 1 science course take up so much of what was left of "my own time" after work-related tasks did prove to be quite challenging. Nevertheless, with the course now complete (handed in the last tutor marked assessment Wednesday night!), I am looking at the next ones to do. I'd like to work towards a qualification in science, for which I'll need at least a further 50 points from other courses. I'm giving myself a break first though. Next one will be a September start.

And I've got some holiday booked for the first week of June, during which I will have to... rest and go to the dentist. Will also be going to see LOTR musical, hopefully.

Speaking of going to see things - if you like science fiction themes, action films, visual arts and/or anime, you might love Vexille as much as Timo and I did. We went to the Institute of Contemporary Arts in London to see it last week. It's showing there until the 20th of May, so you can still catch it. If not, it's due to be released on DVD this year. The soundtrack is also wonderful, featuring Paul Oakenfold trance-style backing tracks as well as little gems of tracks by the likes of Asian Dub Foundation.

The art of business travel, part 2

Things have improved since I last wrote about business travel. I bought a cheap, but adequate bag, which looks like a rucksack on wheels. It has several exterior pockets and if I pack it well, it conforms to the airline regulations for onboard luggage.

Now I could even take a trip via Terminal 5!

That wasn't a wish. (Just in case).

Necessity is an excellent teacher. I accepted that my new role would involve a fair amount of travel. It's something I have done extensively before and didn't expect to get back into. This time was different; this work feels different and my motivation for completing it is strong enough to override many of the elements that I found simply too irritating before. On the other hand again, I'm never going to jump for joy at the site of a throng of people pushing each other to a sweaty cluster in front of the metal gates closed temporarily at the entrance to the Underground at Victoria mainline station. But then again, who would?

There was an angry granny sat next to me on the train back from Newcastle. She sat on her reserved window seat and made odd little comments at me for a part of the journey; then disappeared to the restaurant coach and never returned. She seemed to want both seats to herself. I know the feeling, but it's one of those "can't be helped" kinda things about crowded trains.

Train stations up North smell of pies and coal tar. The women wear short skirts and high heels. Occasionally, a whiff of perfume - sometimes even pleasant or expensive - wafts along with them. You have to be in a big town to get a "decent" (read: brand) coffee kiosk; Costa, Starbucks and Nero are not in charge here.

Train stations in London smell of bitter coffee, damp fabric, exhaust fumes, stale sweat, piss and vomit, old booze, newspapers, cheap deodorant and celebrity fragrances. The women wear flat shoes and trainers, tunics-over-leggings, or trouser suits. Occasionally, a herd of Chavs gallops past, muffin-tops and gold hoops wobbling merrily as they go.

But I digress!

Although I now go to many more locations, much more frequently than perhaps ever before, my stays are always fairly short. Enter the rucksack-on-wheels - it comfortably holds my toiletries, change of clothes, laptop, chargers and even the mug and teabags. I've got bags-within-bags ready packed with the essentials and a different folder per department I work for. That means preparing for travel has become much easier. I just throw in the pre-packed sets of stuff and zoom off. I also forced myself to really think through how much I felt I "had to" take with me and I've managed to really cut down on needless weight off the luggage. Toiletries and make-up have to be small or multifunctional (or both). Clothes have to be the roll-up kind. So far so good!

When something feels like a Schroedinger's soap bubble

You know when there's something you've been only dreaming about, then daring to actually hope for and then it finally happens? And you're left with a surreal feeling of "if I examine it closely and really allow myself to accept that it's real, then by simply by doing so, I might make this lovely thing cease to exist."

Or maybe it's just me.

There are some stories about how person X did Y and due to sheer effort and perseverance they "got there in the end". I've cynically often wondered how much of such narrative is re-writing history after the event for the sake of nice storytelling.

The thing is; I might be on my way to becoming one of those stories. I just can't quite accept that yet, just in case. It feels very odd. Like I've crossed some previously invisible boundary.

I must immediately start adding bits of fascinating back-story. But before I have the chance to do that, here's the first related post, Why I think I'm a Nose, posted in 2005, and its follow-up Perfume; the book, the film and my obsession, posted about a year ago, in February 2007.

Last summer, I was given permission to hijack one of the existing product developers from the company I work for to help me - and we spent a week making prototypes (and back last summer I was still based part in the shops/working on projects, so that felt so amazing and surreal...and wonderful).

We made lots of different products and I developed some simple fragrances. Two days after the products had been packed up into brown cardboard boxes and left in the care of company directors I had a call from one of them (the chief perfumer and one of the founding members, no less): "I think these are lovely and you are very talented."

Somehow I still feel like I'm not allowed to say that out loud, or to think it even.

Months passed and I kept tinkering at home and filling up notebooks with more ideas.

Come January, I was completely moved out of the shops into various head office tasks, on the basis of some of the other work I'd done - and became too busy to pontificate about anything other than "when is my next flight/train/meeting/deadline". Which, by the way, was entirely a good thing, or I might have focused a little too much on wondering about what-ifs.

I decided to enrol on a basic science course at the OU to brush up on maths and chemistry. Then I rang the director of a part-time Diploma course in Cosmetic Science to discuss entry requirements (only to be told that due to my experience in the industry, they'd take me without any further questions asked. Oh).

In February, I was asked to research and write a report for the Research & Development team. I loved doing that. It felt like an unexpected, yet perfect marriage between my inner geek and outer cosmetics junkie. When I submitted the report, I was told they'd like some more in the future and this made me very happy indeed.

Couple of weeks ago, I received a short message: "You are wanted in the lab for a review of the product prototyping work you did for us last summer."

I went, and spent a day with the inventors. I didn't know what to expect, but I certainly didn't expect to be addressed throughout the day in a way that explicitly implied that I would now be allowed to conduct further experiments, work on R&D projects and help out in general.

Did I imagine all that?

In the week just gone, after coming back from Eastercon, I've suddenly had a shower of new things to work on, some of which are for the R&D department.

Right now, I would be happiest than I have ever been to date with my life and what this all implies and looks like, if it wasn't for the way I've had to store this Schroedinger's soap bubble away in a box and not look, not even peek at it, because it might just go *pop*.

--

EDIT: Find out how it all started and what happened next...

You've got to start somewhere

It's funny how at school, I couldn't wait to get out of there, but now, I wish I could keep on studying. I suppose adult education and further studies are nifty things. They cater for this.

I was on self-imposed course ban for a couple of years so that I could focus on other things. I still did the space sausage thing and a couple of other things (shh).

For some time, I have been experimenting with a steadily growing obsession; making perfume and cosmetics (and I've written about this before here and here). It's something that ties right back to when I worked part-time after school at the local superstore. Or maybe it goes even further back - to the stuffing of grandmother's rose petals into a glass bottle full of water and hoping it would turn into perfume. I've heard some others tell the same stories, except that for me the fascination never ended. I've ended up working either in, or adjacent to the cosmetics industry for the majority of my life.

I almost quit the whole industry a while back. I tend to get irritated (ok, burst into spontaneous rants) when I see deliberately misleading advertising about cosmetics, companies putting profits ahead of honesty and all those aspects we know are part of selling that next face cream or scent. I also happen to be quite business minded and definitely don't begrudge making profit. It's the core part of why business is business. I just refuse to believe that there can't be a way to run an honest cosmetics business that still makes a healthy profit.

For years I really couldn't find one. I worked for several, respected many of them, but ultimately they all seemed to play the same game.

Meanwhile, I worked in IT and other things; missing the fun parts of the cosmetics industry, but shuddering every time I'd remember the not so nice elements.

Now I work for a cosmetics company that is perhaps at the other extreme of the scale. In many ways it's more of a campaigns and pressure group. I'm enjoying this change to the norm and it's been refreshing and liberating.

And I feel like I've been given permission to dig deeper. I want to go to the next level. So I've looked up a couple of routes through which I could qualify in Cosmetic Science and registered on the first pre-requisite course, which is due to start on the 1st of March. This feels very, very exciting.

From waiting room to warp drive

A pidgeon was clearly trying to commit suicide by throwing itself in front of my Smart today. It (he? She?) flew very purposefully towards my left wheel, plonked itself down on the concrete floor of the Mall car park and wouldn't budge. I tooted my horn. It didn't move. I had to make an elaborate curve to avoid it - which, by the way, wouldn't have been possible in the tight space available, had I not been driving the tiny tiny car.

Oh, Smart, how I love thee. Especially now that you're fully MOTd and serviced again.

Many, many things on my things-to-do list have had a big tick recently. And the waiting room bit? Gone. It's happened; I have moved onto the next stage (I suppose one could say that I have been promoted).

I am working in London, Poole and to some extent, from home. Every week looks different. Some days are full of rushing around, some full of meetings, some are very physical and hands-on - most days are very long now that I'm doing far more commuting. That's perhaps one of the only down-sides, but a price totally worth paying for. I can't ever remember feeling this happy, this fully involved, this much in my element at any previous job. I do feel under pressure to deliver results, but that type of stress goes with any job that involves responsibility and deadlines.

I say one of the only down-sides because there is of course the not-seeing-Timo-enough downside, but that's hardly new. We just have to keep remembering to give our relationship some time to flourish, for it not just to exist as a vague presence in the background. On the plus side, it is now slightly easier for me to get Sundays off, which makes it easier for us to have a day off together. Very big bonus.

Wedding is beginning to seem like something real. I've done a few more bits of wedding faffing recently and the remaining tasks are almost all now just details. Friends have mercifully stepped in and Katja, Tuulia and Gloria are all busy doing their part in helping. I am extremely relieved and grateful for that.

Meanwhile, Timo has booked us into a lovely 19th century wooden villa at the southernmost point of Finland, in Hanko, for the few days after the wedding before we fly back to UK. An actual honeymoon is to follow - hopefully - later this year. I suppose it's lucky that we're both in jobs that need us back as soon as possible because if it was just the one of us rushing back to work, we might not be so understanding of each other.

Today, on a rare day off, I picked up my ring (a plain platinum band), purchased some cosmetics (I can't live without Benefit's Dandelion) and booked a haircut for end of June...

I kind of need one.

Haven't decided on the fringe. Should I keep it for the wedding? If so, it needs to preferably be short enough for me to see. However, I could go back to non-fringe. I have a tiara for the big day. It wasn't planned, but then I made the crucial mistake of trying them on and, well.

When I opened Marie Claire this month, I was delighted to see that they've chosen to feature Helsinki. There was even a very brief mention of Suomenlinna, the venue of our wedding. I'm only ever accidentally trendy, so I should really milk this.

In one of those Life's waiting rooms again

I've been really, really busy. Good busy. I've been in work-and-career mode for months. It's been a little more intense in the time consumption department than anticipated due to some unforeseen circumstances, but things are finally moving along. I should find out some pretty big things in the next couple of weeks. Now we wait. And continue to juggle.

The things I have overlooked: housework, social life, writing group (hi, Gaie!), Smart meets, contact with all but a handful of friends.

The things I am trying to do, but not very well: Healthy eating, exercise (Timo and I tried to establish a regular swimming routine. We should try harder).

The things I have almost overlooked, but have managed to keep in my life (because without them it would be a bit pointless): having a relationship with Timo (if we don't have one, yet get married, we'd be heading for divorce before you can say Honeymoon), reading (I'm happy that it's not just work-related either; fiction lives!) and having duvet days (I need the occasional day where not a lot happens. I sleep in, do small chores, potter around, read, watch TV and play computer games - and spend the day Not Talking Much. It's a much needed balance to what most of my days are like).

If you are a friend, an aquaintance, a blog reader, anyone nice - hi there - who has been wondering what kind bottomless pit I've fallen into; please don't worry. And hope we can still keep in touch. To Be Continued...

Wow, what a hard decision

Well, today's the last day of my little holiday. Had a week off to go to Finland and arrange further wedding related things. Of course, as usual when one has been overdoing things for a bit too long, the minute I stopped working, I became ill.

Sinuses filled with green glue, voice like a scratchy record (and then, very quickly, strangled squeaks, then nothing), I somehow managed to run around in Helsinki with Timo and get everything done anyway. In the evenings we were wiped out and fell asleep far earlier than we're used to.

The wonderful thing is that we now have the go-ahead for our marriage. All paperwork is in order, we've checked the venue, ordered the flowers, and have a final list of things to do (including getting the rings! Minor detail...).

Over the weekend, I have been trying to rest and get myself back to normal. I would rather not have another course of antibiotics if it can be helped! Feeling lots better, though sinuses are still giving me trouble. Part of this resting has, admittedly, happened in front of the computer...

Timo brought home World of Warcraft (WoW) trial disks. Now, we've been avoiding it because we had another MMORPG love, Final Fantasy online. Except the trouble with FF has been that the time sink required for it exceeds what we can possibly commit to. For the most part, I've been doing things like levelling various crafts or breeding giant chicken mounts (yes, really). They're called chocobos and are an integral element in all things Final Fantasy.

I love the Final Fantasy world and in the beginning, it was easy to pick up the online game and get ahead. Unfortunately majority of the game content (quests and so on) really does require you to spend hours on end playing. Sometimes in one go. Many activities are geared to be suitable for large groups only, or require the help of higher level players to complete. In order to gain commitment from others to help you, you must be available to do the same in return. It's only fair and makes sense.

However, being one of those weird gamers that actually prefers achieving things in the fabled world of RL (Real Life) as well as in-game, I don't think I have much choice in the matter of FF. I can keep on paying the monthly subscription to keep my characters and giant chickens "alive", or I can cancel the subscription. Quit. It seems bizarre to be a little bit emotionally attached to a virtual world and its inhabitants, but I've been a fan of the Final Fantasy universe for years and a player on FF online for over 2 years. So quitting seems like leaving something real behind.

How real are online gaming environments? Do they become as real as the time you have put in them? Or the people you "meet" and make friends with?

Is it all just a big waste of time? Is any social, fun activity a waste of time?

I guess when it stops being fun.

So, meanwhile, we've been trying to understand what makes World of Warcraft online such a popular game. It has millions of subscribers (over 6 million, I seem to remember seeing somewhere - sounds ludicrous! That's more than the entire population of Finland!).

WoW seems so easy to get into after FFXI. Granted, in every such game, the first 10 levels of a character are a breeze, after which things get harder. We've tried out different characters, classes and crafts. It's fun, so far. Worth getting a subscription? Not sure yet. It seems to be far better suited to people who want to play for a while, go do something else and come back again. Of course the mechanics, especially towards end game, seem to allow for overwhelming immersive playing style (there's always some Uber gear that can be perceived as a must-have and this type of gear or priviledges or imaginary in-game status always requires making the game your primary activity in life for quite a while). The key difference seems to be that this does not appear to be a requirement. It's an option.

If I'm right about the above and it's in fact possible to play WoW semi-casually, then it might be sold. Just a few more days of the trial left.

It's definitely a nice thought to have something to lose yourself in once in a while. I tried Second Life (and still have my account there), but it seems a little bit pointless. There's not an awful lot to do, unless you want to make a pretty toon and flirt. I made a dragon.

Still. Why do I feel that playing WoW instead of FF online is like cheating? And quitting FF would be like a breakup. Yet I know it seems the logical thing to do. How dorky. I'm surprised at myself actually.

Confetti and Lace

Last week I visited Confetti and Lace - a bridal boutique in Farnham - with a good friend who will be coming to our wedding in Finland. I was hoping to find THE wedding dress. I've emphasised the "bridal boutique" in that sentence because the what, how, where, of the wedding dress issue has been a dilemma for a while and I've put it off until now.

I have never had the dream of a wedding as an event that somehow supercedes the part where you actually get married and what that then entails. I've hoped to find someone I could love and trust and who could do the same for me. That thought process did not involve puffball sleeves and five-tiered marzipan concoctions. In fact, I was quite against the idea of getting married again. The clue as to why is contained in that last sentence.

My first wedding was a non-wedding. A cheap dress bought in Covent Garden, trip to Brixton registry office, a party at our flat with some friends and neighbours. Feels surreal, thinking back. I was only 21 and didn't know what I was doing. I don't think he did either. The marriage was over very quickly (in just two years) and involved a degree of unpleasantness I would rather forget.

So, I don't particularly want to draw parallels with the past. What was, was, I learned from my mistakes, I have let go of ill feelings, shame and guilt and moved on long ago.

This engagement, the relationship we have with Timo, our coming wedding, really does feel like the first time. In a way, I think I've leaned towards certain decisions just to underline the fact.

So, instead of a "nice dress" bought from some gothicky shop, department store or whathaveyou, I started thinking that maybe it would be comforting and good to really accept that I am going to be the bride, a real bride, not some rushed half-arsed pretend-affair, but actually, really getting married. Properly this time.

We were offered refreshments on arrival at Confetti and Lace, and asked to look around. "You can try on any of the dresses here, so just take your time selecting a few you'd like," we were told.

I'm not sure if I was expecting to find anything on this trip, but on the other hand, the issue of what to wear had bugged me sufficiently in advance to a point where I've looked through so many bridal magazines and websites that I'd actually developed a fairly clear idea of what I didn't want.

Well, that was a start. And in fact, it seems, enough to narrow things down. As was the budget. I wasn't going to, will not, would not even consider (even if it was an option) of spending thousands of pounds on a dress.

In the end, we narrowed things down to three dresses. One of them stood out clearly as a favourite. I'm not going to describe it because Timo reads this blog too. I would quite like to have an element of surprise. All I'm going to say is that it's not what I expected to end up with and I love it.

But the big deal is: I found the dress! It's been ordered and will arrive in April (so they said). Then we'll pop back for the fitting and to see if any alterations are required. Considering we'll be flying out to Finland for the main event in mid-July, it seems silly to think that this was about the last minute to get a so-called "proper dress". Now I understand why people were nagging and tut-tutting at me when I kept saying that I'd wait a little longer.

We will be taking an additional trip to Finland in April, just to sign some paperwork, meet up with the wedding planner again, meet up with the caterer and so on. It will be a short 3-day hop over, but I'm looking forward to it as if it were a holiday.

Hopefully Timo and I can have a real holiday sometime after the wedding. Or a Honeymoon, if you must. Haven't decided on that yet. Were thinking of Sicily or something along those lines. I actually can't remember the last time I travelled somewhere for a holiday that didn't involve some kind of work, planning or organising. Scary thought.

Edited to add later: Since so many people seem to find this blog by Googling "Confetti and Lace", I wanted to add a footnote. The customer service in this shop was lovely... right up to the point of when the money for my dress had left our account. The fitting-and-pickup visit was so off putting (due to the way I was treated by the member of staff) that if I'd have had the time, I would have chosen another company for the dress. Seriously.

I need a holiday to sort my chores out

I've been busy (good-busy, but still, you know, busy) and certain things have had to give. Such as regular blog updates (for now - that will be remedied in due course) and various paperwork chore type things to do with the impending wedding (impending surely can't be the right word, but it amuses me to use it in this context, so go with it).

I've also reached the stage where my solicitor has asked me to gather all the material evidence for my NHS clinical negligence case.

Not to mention that I would love to have a few days in a row off, especially after the Christmas rush at work.

I've just booked some holiday from work - a week in February and another in April. Very, very happy about that.

More another time; I have some good things that are ready to be written about.

You'd think there were no supermarkets here... or something

Considering that this year (in stark contrast to last year) I feel very well fed indeed, one might find it a little surprising that I apparently needed to stockpile food today. Alas, it wasn't just any food - today was our annual visit to the Finnish Christmas festival, held at the Finn Guild in Rotherhithe. Timo and I now have the bread, mustard, porridge, lingonberry preserve and, of course, chocolate to see us through the winter season. Or thereabouts. I've asked him to hide the bulk of the chocolate until Christmas. I'm going to try to be good.

Unfortunately they'd sold out of one of the key products I use in traditional Finnish seasonal cooking. It's nothing that amazing; it's a type of syrup, but there really doesn't seem to be an English equivalent. Bugger. Maybe I could ask for someone to send me a tub of it.

I really enjoy the long process of making really old fashioned Finnish Christmas dishes. I don't even attempt to make all of them for one occasion, but there are a couple that take up to 2 days of preparation and cooking time. It's a kind of journey, deeply filled with nostalgia. Smells, textures, ritual. Especially since I seem to have a bit of a knack for it all; everything tends to come out "just like my grandma made them". I still have some of her handwritten recipes.

Looks like I may even be able to have 2 to 3 days off for Christmas this year, which would be absolutely amazing. Such a luxury! The downside of having any professional involvement in retail is that you're there to make sure everyone else's Christmas is great.

This time of the year is bittersweet. Last year's fledgeling attempts to inbue positive thoughts, warmth and fulfillment where all those hollow, sore spots were was a success. I hope to add more this year. And the next. And perhaps, bit by bit, the strangulation of old pain will lessen to nothing more than a chilly undercurrent.

Turns out the Chinese invented Breakdance

Shaolin Monks was great. A mixture between Martial arts prowess, energetic dance and stagemanship; it was a Martial arts circus. Definitely something to see (I could add the nauseating: for the whole family). There were spectacular shows of well-practiced moves, the circus-element of brick-breaking and balancing on sharp spikes seemed to appeal to the younger audience and there were moments when the cartwheels and rolling on stage held a striking resemblance to Breakdance.

The highlight of the show was a double-act by two very young boys - they looked like they were under 7 years old, but their size might have been misleading. They effortlessly sparred, skipped and hopped through complicated Kung-Fu moves with the sort of ease that usually follows years and years of tireless practice. Watching them was like an optical illusion that made the audience gasp time and time again; it was like watching miniature adults.

We did notice one thing - the audience was completely different from the last Sadler's Wells production we went to see. Yes, lots of families, but also people who looked like they'd never set foot in the theatre before. Many people arriving really late. Or talking during the performance. I don't care if it's your first time when you're 48 years old, but you could at least observe some polite common sense rules on how to conduct yourself.

Heheh. I know. I can be so snooty. But seriously. Granted, not everyone was taken to their first concert/opera/theatre performance at under 5 years old, taught to sit still and focus, taught to figure out the plot of an opera sung in another language from looking through the programme booklet, but I do idly wonder whether common sense about certain things has to be taught too. Is common sense something you can, or have to teach?

It seems that many Finns still value opera, classical music and the theatre in the sort of way I was used to. In that you don't have to be wealthy, or in any kind of particular social category to take yourself (and your kids) off to see the latest production of The Magic Flute. At least that's the impression I get from the delightful film "Pelikaanimies" (Pelican Man), a film we watched yesterday. I bought it on our Finnish trip this summer, but we hadn't got around to watching it until now. Pelican Man is a simple, but delightful fantasy aimed at children, but entirely watchable by adults. One day a pelican decides to turn himself into a human by landing on a beach and putting on human clothes. The film explores human perception, what it's like to be an adult and what it's like to be a little boy whose parents have just divorced. There is lovely Finnish scenery and a beautiful feel to the whole film.

I'm going to head into work soon. It'll be a late night (stocktake). Tomorrow I'm partly working in store, partly from home. I need to finalise Christmas rotas for the store, as well as complete a number of forms and other paperwork. So far, this retail Christmas has been vastly different from the previous ones I've had as a store manager. I feel like everything is ticking along well without becoming a big burden. I reserve the right to change my mind in December.

In a couple of weeks I will be taking another work-related trip. After that it'll be more or less a straight run through to Christmas without stopping.

Shaolin Monks

Timo and I don't get out much. Apart from going to work. A lot. Yes, we're exactly as sad and getting-long-in-the-tooth 30-something couch potato-workaholics as those statements imply. I'm not sure how much I mind.

Occasionally I dream of us away somewhere, on a beautiful, relaxing holiday with no computers, televisions, shops, or any of our modern trappings in sight. I had one such a dream last night. It was warm and sunny, but not so warm that we would both get heat stroke. Maybe I was having wishful dreams of our honeymoon. We're hoping to be able to take a week's holiday about a month after our July -07 wedding and go somewhere nice.

Occasionally we manage to have an evening out. And not just any evening; I'm not talking going to the pub, or the cinema (mostly because we rarely do those things either). Our next such excursion will be to see the Kung-Fu master Shaolin Monks at Sadler's Wells. We're going on the 30th of October. Absolutely can't wait! I love the theatre, opera, ballet, performance, stage - and I love Martial Arts. So as soon as I saw this advertised, I shoved the ad under Timo's nose: "Wanna see!".

Twenty Shaolin Monks and five young trainees have travelled all the way from the Shaolin Temple in China, to demonstrate their martial arts expertise.

In a crescendo of kung-fu sequences, the Shaolin Monks are lifted aloft on sharpened spears, splinter wooden blocks with their bare hands, break bricks on their heads and fly through the air in a series of incredible backflips and spins.

This show is the Shaolin legend made real and is definitely NOT to be tried at home!

How cool does that sound? I'm really looking forward to it!

If I can fit it in/afford it; I've been looking at Tai Chi classes locally... but on the other hand, Karate has always drawn me in. Just didn't like the local class being mostly full of adolescents (nothing wrong with that age group, but I really felt like the odd one out). Not sure yet. It comes down to class availability and money.

I'm going to work on a late shift tonight. Got to cover for late night opening and then stay behind to change our promotional displays, ready for Friday. I've spent my morning today arranging November events for my store (we're attending some out-of-hours fairs with stalls & entertainment), planning the next month's rotas, booking my staff on training courses and confirming interview appointments. I've got to be out of the door in an hour. Just sitting here with a face mask on (I look like the Swamp Thing) and sipping a cup of coffee.

There are very exciting things going on, professionally speaking, but I can't mention any of them here. As mentioned in previous entries, they're the sorts of things that I could once only have dreamed of happening. And they're the sorts of things that wouldn't be available to all - not for any kind of price; I have been pinching myself a lot recently because I think I must be dreaming. I feel very, very, very, very fortunate and humbled. I know I've been working hard, trying to reach the right path, making mistakes along the way, and somewhere deep down, I've held a hope - no, a belief - that you simply have to be able to make something of yourself with effort and the right attitude (despite sometimes seeing evidence to the contrary)... and yet, when the possibility of Something Big is now almost within reach, I'm a little stunned. It could all still just be too good to be true.

My chocobo caught the bug

When I'm not at work, or doing work-related activities at home (so, about 2 hours every day, give or take), I sometimes take my mind off things by playing Final Fantasy Online. It's a MMORPG based on the Japanese Final Fantasy series.

Both Timo and I have been playing this game for about two years, but we haven't even got a single "job" to the top level. To do that, you'd need a lot more free time than we have. I've managed to do a fair bit of levelling (collecting experience points through fighting monsters in parties with other characters, thus advancing your character's skills further and unlocking more abilities and options in the game). At the stage I'm at now, I would have to be able to play 6-8 hours uninterrupted to get anywhere in an experience party setting. I can't remember the last time I did that. Must have been when I was recovering from my op last year. That sort of immobalised me a bit.

Luckily, there are activities that you can participate in even if you don't have lots of time to play. You can develop crafting and job skills, manufacture items, harvest raw materials and now, with the latest expansion and update, you can grow your own chocobo. Chocobos are giant chicken-like creatures that are used as mounts in the Final Fantasy universe.

In an older incarnation of the game series, you could breed your own chocobo varieties, race them against oneanother and even attempt to breed the "ultimate" chocobo that could reach areas in the game world that others could not. I really enjoyed all that back then (and yes, I am really quite a nerd).

So when the chocobo eggs went on sale in Final Fantasy Online, I was sure to be one of the first people in the queue! It took four real-life days to hatch and you then have to "look after it"; it's a bit like a Tamagotchi - a virtual pet. You have to feed it a special diet depending on what kinds of abilities you'd like for it to develop, you have to take it out for walks, watch over it and design a care schedule that will be used in your absence (as you are unlikely to be there for your little chocobo chick for 24 hours a day!).

I'm a sucker for things like that! And for the first few days, everything went smoothly, until the chocobo first "got ill". The only medicine that would cure it, apparently, was a special type of wildgrass. There turned out to be a small design flaw in how the supply and demand of this grass was handled. The grass was selling at ludicrous prices in the game's Auction House system and was not obtainable through any kind of quest, or harvesting activity; it could only be grown through a process called gardening. So the people who suddenly realised they had the only units of this special grass in their inventories, pushed up the price to as high as it would go and ripped off the poor chocobo breeders who only wanted to make their little virtual chick better again. Awwww.

Then, a software bug was found in the chocobo raising system. If your care plan included "rest", your chocobo would just sleep and sleep for days, instead of the time period you'd specified. While asleep, it can't be fed, you can't look after it (and these two activities increase the chick's affection towards the owner and prevent it from growing into a moody bird that will just run away at the first opportunity). Of course my choco fell victim to this bug and for the last whole week, I've been coming home, checking its status and finding it still asleep, with its affection for me ever depleting... heart breaking! And the messages that kept coming up were awful: "It's starving". "It seems to be able to tolerate your company." Ouch.

Yesterday evening, my chocobo finally woke up. It has lost all its affection for me, it was starving, but at least - so far - it hasn't run away.

There have been hundreds of times in the past few months when I've thought: "why the HELL am I paying a monthly fee for a game that resembles real life a bit too much with all its ups and downs, chores, lack of money, worries, everything!"

The cleverness of the game is, of course, that it does just that. To quit would be like killing off a real part of your life, however virtual.

Oy! I'm back!

Short review before longer posts follow:

- I did send a letter to the editor of Helsingin Sanomat and they published it. That's good.

- We had a really good break. It was just what the doctor ordered. Could have done with a couple of days more, but I won't grumble!

- We met up with the wedding planner. It looks like there will definitely be a wedding, but we're not sure about anything else yet. More on this some other time.

- I'm going on a work-related training course in London tomorrow, but I've still got Wednesday and Thursday off, which means I'll be able to get all my things at home more or less in order before hitting the routine head on again...

- Timo and I have discussed our lifestyle and have made some preliminary plans. It'll be less crazy from now on. Both of us can cut down a little. We'll have to, or we'll burn out.

- I've decided to sue. Or rather; take the next steps in the process (which involves getting some reports and records).

It's beautiful and melancholy to return; learning how to re-appreciate all the basic, good things that are so right about our lives at home, but already feeling the loss of something important. This feeling is heightened for me because of Jiri and Tuulia. I already miss them.

Hello from HelSTINKI

Just a quick "hi" from my friends' computer at Helsinki's Punavuori. It's been a mixed visit so far. I am over the moon about being with my family (that's who they are, really) and it is wonderful to eat lots of Finnish chocolate, sleep enough and mill around aimlessly. Kind of like being on holiday, oddly enough.

But there's a melancholy tone to this visit. It breaks my heart to see a certain kind of veil - part dirt, part apathy - covering what used to be my old hunting ground. I've posed a question to my dear friends: what the hell happened to Helsinki? More to the point: what the hell happened to Finland?

The standards of maintenance, availability of fresh produce and type of customer service you might expect now resemble any random European country, but before they used to be better. It really used to be true when we described Finland as a clean and pure place. It doesn't appear to be true any more. I'm so saddened by the drop in standards that I've considered sending a letter to the editor of Helsingin Sanomat (Finland's largest daily newspaper).

Anyway. It's not all doom and gloom! I guess I'm just feeling a little odd at the moment. Trying to establish how much of this is the outside-in effect of coming back year after year to an ever changing country and how much of the change is actually for worse.

Meanwhile, Timo and I have started to make real wedding plans. We're meeting a Finnish wedding planner tomorrow and we might end up booking their services. Depends how complicated an affair it's developing into. We're still not in favour of pomp, but it seems that Timo has a guestlist three times the size of mine, so we may need some help in arranging even a simple kind of party!

I'm not really on the computer much this week (we'll be in the countryside tomorrow, swimming in a lake somewhere), so apologies if I don't reply to comments until I return to UK.

Off to Finland tomorrow

No more work for almost two weeks; a thought that is at once wonderful and frightening, but mostly FUCKING AWESOME.

Didn't get any packing done yesterday as I had to sort out a tricky situation at work and go in on my day off. I did, however get to the hairdressers as planned and opted for a whole new look:

I haven't really stopped since, uh, I don't know - since I started my new job? Yes, I think that's about right. So this is a wonderful break both Timo and I have been looking forward to. He's over by his desk checking our tickets right now and occasionally goes: "woo-hoo!" for no particular reason other than that this time tomorrow we'll be in Helsinki.

We'll be staying with my friends Jiri and Tuulia - and this in itself is one of the biggest treats about the whole trip for me, for obvious reasons. I'll report back when we return (although I will probably pop online at some point or another to check email and the blog, it is unlikely I will post anything until I return).

An Inky comic interlude

I'm putting together a portfolio and thus going through many, many images on my computer. Thanks to Stik, my printer is working overtime (he gently nagged me to approach an agent. I'm still pondering about that. I have an online portfolio that has a few images, I've had stuff published, yes, but I hadn't really considered the next steps).

Whilst on the treasure hunt through folders and folders of images, I came across something I did a few years ago.

Click for Inky episode 1

Click for Inky episode 2

I might not put Inky in my portfolio though. I'm no cartoonist (as you can see), but there is something about these cheeky illustrations and simplistic style that still makes me giggle. They tickle me. What a dorky thing to say: [plummy  English accent] "Ooh, I do make myself laugh sometimes" [/plummy English accent]. Maybe that's telling? Oh, who knows. I may not put Inky in my portfolio. He might not enjoy being squished up in a folder and carted around.

Greed?

I want things.

I need some of things I want, but many of the things I want seem to come down to greed.

I salivate at the thought of a new laptop to replace my old, shitty one. But do I really, hand on heart, need a new laptop? Oh, how I could justify that a thousand times. Don't even make me try; it would be too easy.

I want Corel's Painter IX.5 and Heroes of Might and Magic V to go with it.

I wince when I have to walk past those shoes (I've lusted after them for so long). Black Converse trainers with pretty, red hot flames. And the other pair; black and sparkly. Or what about those red boots in that same shop? I have deliberately avoided going anywhere near that shop for some time, as I know I can't afford such frivolity right now.

And the wedding dress thing. I don't know how I can find the dress - something that will be truly unique - without having it made. And having it made will be expensive, right? But I don't want to throw a couple of thousand quid on a stupid thing like that. Not that I even have a couple of thousand quid to throw at things like wedding dresses.

Meh. I quite like the look of Uptight Clothing, but on the other hand, maybe I might be able to get something ready-made from Fairy Gothmother or some other similar site. The Dark Angel is always reliably good quality and they have a bit more class. And yet... I don't know if any of those is even close to what I would feel comfortable in.

And the thing is, if I was given a choice: get a swanky new laptop & some drool-tastic software & get married in a hired get-up, OR have the dress of your dreams, but forgo the other goodies, I think I might choose the technology.

I'm such a nerd. It's embarrassing.

On the other hand, I feel a girly pull towards some kind of incredibly memorable get-up for the "special day" (all together now: awww! Oh hyuk. I think I made myself feel a little nauseous there).

Anyway. This is hypothetical at the moment. Although soon, I will have to decide what to do about the wedding dress-part. The technology, well, if one day I can afford it, great, if not, I will just have to have slobbery Homer-esque daydreams about it.

I have a cow thing

The cows are multiplying. It all started as an extremely nerdy inside joke. You see, once upon a time there was this turn-based-strategy game called Master Of Orion. I never played it, but I did get hugely addicted to its second release, imaginatively named Master Of Orion II. For the sake of brevity, fans had come to call this game series MOO. You may see where this is going.

When rumours begun to circle about a possible - gasp - third version, I was very excited indeed. Imagine the possibilities! I won't expand on the wishlists die hard fans of the series started compiling (for the simple fact that they won't make any sense unless you've played the game), but just imagine someone telling you that soon it would be possible to get rid of many of the frustrating aspects of your favourite past-time (the new reading chair has a set of special features that prevent eye strain and rubberneckedness! Your reading experience has been improved hundredfold! And what about that TV remote? Can't find it? No need; with the new feature in TV watching III you can now control the screen with your mind...). And so forth.

So, along with hundreds, or possibly even thousands of gullible idiots, I pre-ordered the game without having read a single review.

That was a really stupid thing to do. You see, MOOIII sucked. It was awful. Like an Excel spreadsheet with a giant GO button to end turn and minuscule space-y graphics in an attempt to somehow connect it to space-opera. Charts that you didn't really have much control over. It was hideously unplayable, dissatisfying - and worse; it was a giant departure from MOOII, which angered fans even further. Apparently the "original version" had been somewhat similar, but none of us Johnny-come-latelies (the ones who got hooked from MOOII onwards) really gave a shit about that; we wanted our space battles and ship building screens and cool blue-skinned alien babes!

In true Comic book guy style, many of us looked to the Internet to register our disgust within minutes. There was a web address on the MOOIII box. It took us to the official forums for the game publisher. We registered, ranted, connected... and some of us formed a little sub-faction of our own under the Monthy Pythonesque heading "Pirates of the Dwarf Cove" - and to cut the long story short(er), departed, formed our own online community, started arranging real-life meets and left the whole MOO thing behind. It led us together, but it was no longer the single unifying factor.

MOO stuck for quite a while though. We gave each other cow-themed presents. I ended up accumulating many cow print objects. There was the Pirate theme too. I think my most bizarre purchase in a long while was a stuffed cow dressed in a Pirate costume. It sometimes comes with me to special events and always draws attention.

One of the most important things that happened as a result of the Pirate/Cow community thing was, of course, the meeting of soulmates, the coming together of two hearts (and later, pelvises). True love is so amazing, isn't it? I suppose meeting someone of like mind in a community formed around a common interest is less of a coincidence than one could presume, but the fact that Timo was also half-Finnish did come as a bit of a welcome shock. Anyway, that's not what I'm writing about today.

I'm writing about my cow thing. I have a new cow-related obsession. It is closely linked with my ice-cream related obsession (side-thought: can taste preferences be genetically inherited? My mother was practically obsessed with ice cream).

I have discovered... The Skinny Cow (I'd link to their UK website, but they are using the heinous word "indulge" in big, pink letters on the front page and it makes me feel like someone's dragging nails on a blackboard. Plus the US site shows a dazzling array of flavours that us UK consumers can only have slobbery dreams about). I'm trying to cut down on junk food in a desperate attempt not to balloon to size 24 before our July 2007 wedding (I'm trying to slip that wedding thing in haphazardly here and there, so as not to get clammy hands every time I think about it. It's not working yet). However, I seem to suck at trying to give up junk food. I am terrible at it. I've probably managed one day without either ice cream or chocolate. Granted, I don't shovel lard and sugar into my face 24-7, but why oh why can't I go for even one, say, WEEK without polishing off half a bag of Maltesers, or an ice cream cone or two? This has got to stop!

So, The Skinny Cow seems to be a passable compromise. Instead of Ben & Jerry's calorific artery-clogging double-bypass ice cream sandwich, or even a humble portion of Green & Black's vanilla ice cream... I've switched to raspberry and vanilla cones that have 122 calories and 5% fat. Not so horrific. I should also be avoiding dairy and the sorbet-content in these cones is a welcomed component for that reason. Avoiding dairy would be a doddle if there were no such things as ice cream and cheese. I am very happy with Soy milk and Soy yogurts.

Now I just have to find out if anyone does timed locking mechanisms for the freezer compartment of household fridges. Having "low calorie option" ice cream is bloody useless if you eat two in a row...

New hair, tongue-poking and Alliums

Have I ever mentioned how frustrated I get when my hair colour fades? Just a few times? Okay then.

Speaking of frustrated, I wish I had more time to do things. What? You've heard me moan about that too? Well, aren't you the party pooper tonight. Anyway.

One of these days I'll have a better balance. For now, activities that are close to home are the easiest because I'm either at, or involved with work for the majority of my waking hours. The fact that gardening is so accessible and that I can do it at home is one of the dozens of reasons why my love affair with it is growing. Seeing the results of your work is also extremely wonderful, but there's also the de-stressing, soothing getting dirty and being surrounded by plants-thing.

I've got three new plants to dig in tomorrow. Can't wait to see how they'll develop.

I took some photos and uploaded them today. New hair colour! The progress of my garden! See how I've tried to make a post that ties these pictures together to a story!

Football and wedding plans

Timo is at Highbury today, bidding goodbye to the last day there with fellow Arsenal fans and friends of his. He likened it to leaving a childhood home. I think today will be quite emotional for him. I might have been tempted to go with him, except that I am leaving on another work-related trip this afternoon. In fact, I just need to pack my bags and get some paperwork printed off and then I'll be off.

Back late on Tuesday. I've cheated (in the blog sense, I hasten to add!) and written a preview/review post on auto-publish, which should appear tomorrow. I hope you'll enjoy it. It'll be cross-posted to BlogCritics and they'll probably appear at around the same time.

I don't quite know why, but I've been thinking about our wedding plans a lot this week. It seems to be making me jittery for some reason. Not the actual getting married bit, but the "can we really pull off a memorable and enjoyable party?" -bit. I've never attempted to arrange anything of the sort and frankly, I'm not even entirely sure where to start!

The ideal scenario will pan out like this: We'll scout for a suitable location/venue in Finland when we go there in July this summer. Book and make arrangements. In July 2007, we'll gather our friends and family (well, Timo's family; I don't have any left - none that I know and would want to be there anyway)... and celebrate, get married, spend a couple of weeks of blissful honeymoon time in some beautiful cottage by a lake... and return home to make plans for aquiring a larger home. (We love the studio; it's our little nest and I feel secure knowing that it's not rented, but we would love to have more than one room and a bit more of a kitchen wouldn't hurt either!).

Ulp.

Why is all this giving me the heebie-jeebies? I don't even know what kind of a wedding dress I should look out for? Have one made? Or wear something "normal"?

Amazing. I would never have expected to feel like this! And it's over a year away!

Timo is finding all this quite amusing, but I sense he is a little nervous too. Suddenly I'm beginning to understand why people get so worked up about this stuff. Well, not the "why" - just the empathy of being in the situation myself.

Signs of life

A while back, I wrote about Sea Buckthorn and lingonberries - and about how I'd ordered some for my garden. (Hmm, random thought: it feels wrong to call it my garden, considering that it's part of our home, but Timo doesn't like gardening at all, so I've come to call it mine. Maybe I should ask him if he minds?).

When plants came, they looked almost dead. One could detect a hint of green on the stems, but I did worry a little whether I'd end up with very expensive sticks.

Fear no more! Autum planting, tender loving care (and a bit of luck, I should imagine) have turned the Sea Buckthorns into something entirely recognisable as living plants! Hooray! I don't know whether I can expect a berry crop this year, but as long as they grow into healthy shrubs, I don't care if I have to wait another year for that.

Meanwhile, I'm feeling a lot better today. I have spent quite a lot of my time doing things that relate to the new job though, but I would like to think that none of them have been overly draining. I'm compiling information, printing off documents, emailing people, communicating with my team; that sort of thing. I love having a laptop that you can snuggle up to in bed or on the beanbag (although for most of yesterday I was on my other computer, like now. It's a nice Dell desktop and a lot faster and yummier when it comes to processor speed and so on).

I do recognise that I have a problem switching off. Even when surrounded by medicines, tissues and tinctures and coughing until my chest hurts and I'm wheezing... I've produced welcome packs to all my team members, arranged bits and pieces for our opening celebrations... I was scribbling things into my filofax at Midnight and swotting up on product knowledge at 1.30am until my head lolled to one side and my lights went out... well, you get the idea. And there is a big part of me that feels smugly self-satisfied about this: even when I'm under the weather, look what I can achieve! Ehh, I am a silly woman. Everyone knows that people are more productive if they achieve proper balance in their lives. I am still trying to find mine. I am so hungry for moving things forward, for achievement, for something to engage me. And amazingly, I think I've found that part. Now I have to figure out the rest.

I'm going to wind down the speed for today - there is nothing that should be so urgent on a Sunday. Not now, not yet. In the four or five weeks to come, yes. I will be on a bit of a treadmill at work, but now? I am going to relish the gift of free time. Well, after I've done the washing up. Yech. Funny how I'm never eager to do that.

The only thing that truly sucks about being away from Finland

I've been here, in England, for almost 14 years. I've just got used to saying 13. The one thing that completely blows about being over here is how much I miss my closest friend Tuulia. I miss our daily interaction; how by just spending time together we could make each other feel better about ourselves, gain perspective about our problems and feel accepted and understood. Our friendship started in University, all those years ago and we only spent a year or so getting to know each other until I left. Yet somehow, we were close from the moment we met. It has never happened before or since.

I'm not alone and abandoned here by any means. I've got a reasonably wide circle of people with whom I connect on variety of levels. And there's Timo who has built a nest with me in our studio and with whom I want to spend the rest of my life. Something about the way in which we are so natural and raw and loving with each other has helped me unlock the final doors to my real emotions. They'd been barricaded for over a decade, if not longer. I don't have to be afraid of my feelings any more.

Now, with the new job - a job where all of my education, life experience and work experience come together and combine with the release from having to try to mold myself into a company culture, or a job role that wasn't quite the right fit... I already feel liberated and like I can breathe freely. And the potential to excel and to achieve great things is shining like a lighthouse in the horizon. I am elated about all this. Even if nothing spectacular followed my initial job role, I'd be elated. Just to be able to be ME at work, not some kind of construct, or to hold back because others might get intimidated. The new company I work for relishes talent and develops its people rather than the other way around. I have been given permission to grow. It's the biggest gift I've had for years.

Then there's the stuff from last year and 2004; the illness thing that my last entry referred to. It's really all behind me now and sometimes I have to almost pinch myself. From desperation to this; it feels miraculous. It didn't come without some hard battles and I've learned to praise myself about those things. Not to focus on what went wrong, but to focus on what went right.

Apparently denying your true self and repressing your feelings can be a huge source of stress. No wonder I feel like I have been reborn. In so many ways, on so many levels. Sometimes I find myself grinning just because I enjoy eating a good meal without pain. Or because I can go for a long day out in London, come back and not be utterly wiped out. Or because I don't have to hide anything from anyone. Or because I never have to crave for closeness; it's there even before I need it. So many things are good right now.

And yet, there is that one utterly shitty thing about my life. My life doesn't include enough time with Tuulia. She can write an email to me that makes me laugh and then I find myself crying because I am reminded of what I'm missing. Perhaps this is overly sentimental of me, but so be it. I miss her so desperately. Seeing each other for a week or so once a year is not enough. Some years we've managed twice, but it's not common.

In my ideal, dream life, I would be spending some time out of every year in Finland - not just a week once a year, but a few weeks here and there. The only way I've thought this possible is by starting my own business, or working freelance. But there might be other ways. Only time will tell where the road I'm currently on will take me, but for the first time ever, I can feel everything heading in the right direction all at once with nothing being compromised by the journey. I wouldn't have thought this possible, but apparently it is.

The gallbladder saga featured in April's Zest

If, last year you followed my journey from desperation to determination and finally to resolution and happiness with the whole NHS gallbladder saga, then you might be interested in this month's Zest health & beauty magazine (available from most newsagents and supermarkets in UK), as my story is retold in it. I wanted to raise awareness for the illness, which can often go undiagnosed for unnecessarily long and get easily confused with things like IBS (which, as I've come to find out, can often be the medical profession's shorthand for "I've Been Stumped"). If even one person reads this article and realises that they are going through something similar - and can subsequently get help sooner, then I'd feel very satisfied indeed.

I am currently pursuing an enquiry into a no-win-no-fee claim against the local Primary Care trust on grounds of clinical negligence (specifically relating to the original ultrasound, the botched up nature of which appears to have led to much of the crap that followed afterwards). There should be no need to be overly cynical and doubtful when you go in for a routine test. Nobody else should have to go through what I did and hopefully, somewhere along the lines, I can help to address that.

I can't stress enough how wonderful I've been feeling for the spring - there have been a couple of odd days where echoes of pain and discomfort raised their ugly heads, but the further we get into spring, the further away last year's agony gets - both in real time and in my mind. I do feel mildly traumatised by having almost suffered a prison sentence and realising the world of difference on this side of the bars has really brought that home. But right now, and moving ahead, it's all good. I feel simply awesome.

And if I were to philosophise, I'd say that any good things that come to me now will be appreciated even more than ever because of the counterbalance of a few not-so-great years behind me. I count myself lucky just to be alive; just to breathe and smile and eat and sleep. All the rest is like a gift.