16.7.2019

Tuesday

This weekend was busy. I spent some time in Helsinki. Saw the new Spider-Man movie with my cousin S. We fought over does Spider-Man have web naturally or has he made web-shooters himself. Both of us were correct. I grew up reading the comics, she grew up watching the first movies. Kind of silly, because I’m the younger one of us.

Sunday went by doing nothing.

On Monday we had planned a summer day trip. My sister was sick and couldn’t come – she kept coughing through the night. So, we left 9 am with my mum and cousin R. Too early to be alive. Drove a few hours having conversations about everything and nothing at the same time. I live and also die for these moments. It’s like walking on a thin rope between hurting and having fun.

My family is kind of dysfunctional.

We talked about how my uncle had left a plastic container for my grandpa to store used needles. My grandpa is a retired veterinarian who still seems to have too many returning customers for anyone’s sake. My mum has done this thing several times – told my grandpa to put the needles to somewhere save right after giving a dog or cat their vaccine. Does he do it? Never…

So, before we left for our summer trip we had a good laugh (and inner cry) with my mum. The plastic container and message written using BIG lettering my uncle left for grandpa were still on the table of his clinic. The issue? There were used needles around the container but none in it.

Maybe now you understand how I grew up being the most passive-aggressive person ever…

But now back to my travel story!

We met my other cousin S and my aunt in idyllic Finnish small town. Visited like a million idyllic shops they had there and I ate terrible ice-cream. My nurse called just when we were visiting the most interesting shop so I had to skip it. Maybe just a good thing because I may have ended up buying too much stuff. Apparently, my nurse talked with a therapist – they don’t have anything they could help me with. So, I have just normal meeting with my nurse next week where we try to figure out what to do with

1. my fear of hospitals

2. still active mysterious disease – probably just anemia.

Our summer trip continued to this outdoor museum that I only remembered visiting before after seeing their small red granaries (is this even the correct English word for small houses where they used to store grain and other things?). The museum part had three small rooms and cost a fortune to get in. However, no regrets – my mum paid for me.

The last stop after buying strawberries from farm and ice-cream was my relatives’ summer home. I could spend my summer in an old country house… Just writing, writing, writing. By to way, I have been writing a lot lately. Not for 2 hours like I promised for Camp Nanowrimo – hadn’t been in good enough health for that – but several pages of my new notebook from Muji per day.

26.6.2019

Wednesday

Almost put a sweater on today. Regretted it later when it was freezing outside and would have needed that funny text decorating the shirt. Or maybe it wasn’t even cold but we are used to too good. This summer has been too hot and now even the normal temperatures feel deadly cold. I didn’t return home even if that was in my mind.

I waited forever for my tram – first time driving above the ground on this small holiday. For some reason, metro is always my first choice. I fit in best underground.

My only plan for the day was to visit the outdoor flea market but that ended up being a total flop. The windy dark day had driven every vendor away. Talked sometime with an older woman about harlequin novels. Almost bought some but my bags are already full – don’t even know where to put those 5 Virginia Woolf books I bought a few days ago.

Like a true Finn, I didn’t let the cold summer day bother me and lined up to buy ice-cream. Oreo & coconut-melon. Next to me two men ate ice cream talking about the coming Pride parade. “I have never been, not really my thing.” His friend looked so uncomfortable, scared. Old couple in front of us shared toffee ice-cream like teenagers in love.

I wanted to write but ignored my shaking hands.

It was time to walk a long way to metro and home but destiny had other plans. Big museum sign with museum card (allows you a free pass to most museums in Finland) image called for me. Empty museum & me. Walking around so inspiring. In one dark corner was this blue & winged statue. 20 centimeters tall. In a glass box. No head. Angel in royal blue. Why I couldn’t avert my eyes?

Stood there probably like 15 minutes. The employees had already given up and left me alone with irreplaceable art pieces. Darkness, me & blue creature. Had like a million story ideas in my head. A boy walks in the museum, finds a statue that takes him on an adventure.

Continued my way and ended up to 5 more museums.

Is it normal to get inspired by art other people have done? Got to know more about the life of Tove Jansson. She’s a very popular Finnish artist and writer behind the Moomins.

Last stop of my day was Temppeliaukio Church – Top 10 Must See Things In Helsinki/Finland Church. I have a lot of traveler mates who keep asking me why the heck I haven’t visited this place. Now I have. Are you happy?

Temppeliaukio Church is nothing that special. Just a church built inside a rock. There I was merging into a Japanese tourist group like everything was okay. Took some photos. Sat in the last row. Purple seat, extinct candles, no silence. I’m not that religious but visiting churches or religious sites has always been one of my favorite things. The atmosphere holds something special – makes me want to write.

Only at home I realized today was a bad day.

There’s no feeling in my legs. Hands keep missing keys. Couldn’t eat, can’t swallow. For a moment I didn’t even remember if I took the pills this morning. I want to write but my head keeps forgetting words in English and in Finnish. Tomorrow is going to be worse – I can feel it in my bones. Why can’t I just let myself rest when needed? I want to live so badly that it backfires.

Now I will watch Netflix – started Supernatural even if it gives me nightmares. Maybe read a few pages of Virginia Woolf’s first diary. I’m in the year 1917. Her beautiful descriptions of the daily life of two writers have changed to something different. Short, meaningless, like she was trying to hide something. Two years of the diary are missing and Wikipedia tells me she published her first books but also tried to kill herself during that time.

So much can happen in so short time. Where will I be in two years?