Blueberryland

What is the point of an island if you have no one to walk around it with?

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The Fool and The Storm

The purpose of a blog eludes me. I like reading blogs that tell of people’s everyday life, but sometimes I feel I read them more out of compulsion than interest. Much like I check Facebook and Instagram several times a day, without being really interested in the posts.

Don’t get me wrong, I do care about what my friends are up to, but would rather hear about it in conversation. On the other hand, it makes me happy to see glimpses of everyday things from friends that I otherwise seldom have the chance to converse with. As if there is a link between us still.

But why hold a blog of my own? To share my everyday with others? To self-pityingly complain that no one cares for my everyday struggles, only to feed my arrogant ego if someone dares to suggest otherwise? To provide a link?

The path to self-awareness is long and full of disillusions. I have, however, learned one precious thing about myself in the past few years, which seems to hold true still: My bad moods are not to be trusted. With crushing force silent waves of apathy and despair will come down on my little wooden house. And the house creaks and the house leaks and all candles and fires die out. Cold and alone in my little wooden house I am convinced that tales of the sun is but a lie we all tell ourselves in the dark of night. It didn’t use to matter how often the storms blew past to reveal a blue sky, as long as the storm was raging I was convinced it was the only thing I had ever known.

Now I am a little older and a little wiser and can sit calmly in my house, waiting for the weather to change. No need to fix the leaks in panic, but simply let the winds howl until they lose their voice.

In a life without much life in it, the only time I remember my blog is when I, like so many others, feel that the only one who is suffering is me. But as I have learned that despair is naught but bad weather, what point would there be to shout my temporary discomfort at the skies, only to be embarrassed by my words once the sun comes out?

And as for entertaining tales of good weather, I can’t say I’m inspired to tell any.

I’m reading fantasy with kings and curtseys, why, can you tell?

Leif Back

De e Leif Back

som e vår tomte,

han springer och skrämmer snälla barn,

den där karln.

Leif Back,

han e vårt favorit tomteglin.

Det pyntas i granarna,

dansas i salarna,

julen smyger uppför Sursikbacken.

(can’t remember)

(can’t remember)

önskelistan e klar,

nu fattas bara tomtefar:

De e Leif Back

som e vår tomte,

han springer och skrämmer snälla barn,

den där karln.

Leif Back,

han e vårt favorit tomteglin.

The call

I few weeks ago I put on my new dark blue blazer and took the bus to the other side of town. The interview lasted only 30 minutes, but it left me with a rather good feeling, or, well, at least I got very well along with the man who interviewed me.

I’ve been waiting for a call ever since, and today I got it. I didn’t get the job. They “went in a slightly different direction”, as I’m so often told. But the man from the interview said he wanted to talk to me, not just send me an email, to tell me that he really liked me and my background and that he felt I had a lot of potential. He even recommended me a few companies to look up – maybe they have space for one more. Now, it should be mentioned that he was American, this is not something a Finn would ever attempt.

It was very nice to get some positive feedback after all the no thankyous. Simultaneously it really confirmed my fear that it will be close to impossible for me to find a rewarding job in this country. We talked a bit about the traditional mindset of the Finnish employer, and how my, let’s call it “colourful” employment background could be worth gold in the US, but is only frowned upon in Finland.

I don’t want to tell my children to carefully choose what they study because they have to be prepared to work with that, and that only, for the next 40 years. I know you shouldn’t take your studies lightly, but both people and circumstances change, and we need to be able to live in a society that allows change, don’t we? Not in one that grows suspicious of anything that isn’t the absolute standard.

The last advice he gave me before we ended the call, was to remember that what I do does not define me, or that “what I do is not who I am”. Meaning that you can work at the post office and be a potentially brilliant film director at the same time. It’s not that this is any kind of news to anyone, but hearing a complete stranger say it somehow has a greater impact than when my still-in-my-pajamas-haven’t-brushed-my-teeth-unemployed-since-forever-brain tries to suggest it.

I feel I should have tried to squeeze more out of the situation, be a networker, a people-user, and make sure that this man – who is well established in his field – is my new key to the working world. But I couldn’t. I don’t want to squeeze, I just want to say thank you, I really appreciate it.

Quality entertainment

On Easter I spent some quality time with a niece of mine, sitting curled up together in the sofa, watching Pippi Långstrump on the tablet. All of a sudden she stops the program and starts browsing for something interesting to watch on YouTube.

We ended up watching this. ALL of this:

 

10 minutes of my life that I will never, never ever get back. Neither will you, if you watch it. My niece sat mesmerized for the full 10 minutes.

No. Just, no. It hurts.