tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-229741552012-02-14T05:26:54.347+02:00Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.comBlogger2611100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-81746914314598598342010-11-10T18:46:00.007+02:002010-11-10T19:32:42.241+02:00

I've run out of things to say which can only mean one thing: I've now fully covered life, love and everything else.I don't think though that I can let the last update of this blog state that I know that I'm not a stupid girl. Should come up with something a little more hip and cool than that really.Hmm, but my mind is blank and I'm not into long goodbyes, so... hasta la vista babies, this was fun

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-79924109498069214142010-09-30T16:07:00.001+03:002010-09-30T16:09:52.420+03:00

Deep down I know I'm not a stupid girlbut still I make all those mistakes, yeayI know there's a lot of stupid girls in this worldbut I don't want to be like them.Lovely Miss Li:

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-17382267097228386282010-07-12T09:58:00.007+03:002010-07-12T10:06:27.878+03:00

Esko Valtaoja, Finnish astronomer and a wonderful writer who I greatly admire, quoted Walt Whitman at the end of one of his books:Afoot and light-hearted I take to the open road,Healthy, free, the world before me,The long brown path before me leading wherever I choose.Henceforth I ask not good-fortune, I myself am good-fortune,Henceforth I whimper no more, postpone no more, need nothing, – –

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-84811069851969342712010-07-11T09:08:00.013+03:002011-03-24T22:57:49.148+02:00

It’s amazing that I haven’t covered this topic before at all. I mean, I’ve been writing my blog on and off for the past 4.5 years and not once, I repeat, not one time, have I mentioned that I’m really really scared of live fish. I mean really scared.Or, should I say, I used to be.Let me begin from the beginning:When I was seventeen, it was a very good year… Sorry, couldn’t resist. It was a good

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-22743583227314232292010-07-08T20:55:00.004+03:002010-07-08T21:04:27.129+03:00

I’m sure I’ve written about this before… Yes, there it is!It’s about my huge, massive, enormous need for solitude. I really love being on my own, just like I’ve been for the past week and a half.I used to think that I should find a cure for this strange condition of mine, but not anymore: It’s an incredible gift to be able to, and to want to be alone, and to know how to enjoy your very own

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-79460879292649712942010-06-28T21:07:00.009+03:002010-06-28T21:35:59.986+03:00

That’s my magic number. Got to be. That’s because most of my memorable friendships have come, and keep coming it seems, in threes:Childhood: Sanna, Anne and I (from 7 to 13, pure magic).Teen years: Miia, Katja and I (now, how much exactly IS it possible to talk about boys??)Inarin opisto years: Tanja, Sanna and I (we were out of control, but don't blame us! It was the spell of Lapland, a magic

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-55816926099254522062010-02-21T08:33:00.008+02:002010-02-21T10:46:09.642+02:00

I was once asked which sense I’d like to keep if I could choose only one. I had to think about it long and hard, but eventually I said that I’d like to keep my sense of smell even though I wasn’t really able to tell why.This morning I stumbled upon this article Smell yourself well, talking about emotional, therapeutic and even physical effects that scents could have on us. It’s also known that a

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-34125767581099100322010-02-21T00:05:00.001+02:002010-02-21T00:06:47.984+02:00

It had been a busy day at work. But finally it was over and I was on my way home. I was looking forward to spending some time with my son: It was going to be our film night, something that had become a bit of a Thursday tradition for us.“Mommy, I think I want to go and play with Juho instead of watching a film tonight.”“Oh, you do? On our film night?”“Yes. We can watch a film another night, can’t

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-55578322225138633632010-01-31T14:42:00.007+02:002010-02-20T20:28:55.116+02:00

I’ve only just very recently started using my iPod while on the move. I’m really enjoying it now but I also know why I haven’t done it before:When the music is blasting straight in your ears, you’re kind of cut out of your surroundings. You can’t really hear what’s going on around you and thus not sure if something really interesting is taking place while you’re busy listening to Boy George.But

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-86505081071497740612010-01-22T20:41:00.003+02:002010-01-22T20:46:40.970+02:00

“When I die, I want my body to be split in half from top to bottom. It can then be put in a museum so that people can see what a human body looks like on the inside.”“Ok son, I’ll see what I can do.”

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-88358134003897867932010-01-21T20:11:00.002+02:002010-01-21T20:23:39.866+02:00

”Ben, be careful with that bottle. Otherwise the same thing will happen as last time.”“Not possible. The same thing can’t happen, because that thing already happened and it’s in the past.”“Ok, the same kind of thing then.”“Can’t be the same kind of thing. It can’t happen in an exactly the same way again.”“A similar kind of thing?”“I suppose that’s possible.”…and finally he moved the pop bottle

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-18084230803989271482010-01-18T22:00:00.009+02:002010-01-19T06:10:55.634+02:00

I read an article last week about what you should and shouldn’t do on a date. And, got to say, they made some pretty valid points:1) Don’t talk too much about your ex. It’s quite ok to mention them, but overall it’s best if you focus on the future.2) Don’t show your emotions too openly as it might make you appear a little unstable.3) Show that you have a good sense of humour.4) Be enthusiastic.

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-38153786176633505872010-01-13T22:43:00.004+02:002010-01-13T22:48:49.163+02:00

The scenery this winter has been absolutely amazing. I took these photos on my way home from work earlier today.

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-73548480131419544442010-01-12T17:41:00.003+02:002010-01-12T20:24:00.502+02:00

When life’s a bitch, what do you do? You make a list, obviously, of things that are good in life. This is mine.My son: I love you more than I could ever love anyone or anything else in the world.My sister: You know.My friends: A, M, P, C, J, another A, among many other wonderful human beings. Thank you for being you.My dog: You drag me out of the house every day. You also drive me crazy but never

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-19750810283298126712009-12-21T18:30:00.000+02:002009-12-21T18:31:06.274+02:00

It will happen in about an hour and 20 minutes: at 7.47 pm Finnish time tonight, it will be the Winter Solstice. Celebration!Don't get me wrong, there's absolutely nothing great about the shortest day of the year, but what IS great is what happens next:We are going to be having more light than today every single day until Midsummer! Hooraayy!

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-64361279064927155152009-11-22T07:54:00.004+02:002009-11-22T08:10:18.091+02:00

Some weeks ago I wrote something along the lines …”when I started this blog more than 3.5 years ago”. Yesterday I found myself thinking: No, must’ve been more than 4 years ago, because my mum passed away 4 years ago and surely she’s seen my scribblings?I was so certain of it that yesterday morning I drove myself crazy looking for all the “missing” texts from the time prior to her death. But

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-91486400495906546152009-11-08T21:32:00.005+02:002009-11-08T23:08:34.348+02:00

It’s like going for a walk. If you choose the long route, you know that you’ll have a really long way ahead of you before getting back home. If you choose to go zigzagging close by, you know that you can get back quickly any time.It’s quite possible, even likely, that the zigzagging walk will, at the end of the day, take you further since you only have to commit yourself to a short stretch at a

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-6123594935848238722009-10-20T06:50:00.002+03:002009-11-19T20:21:05.035+02:00

There’s this ad: http://www.atriafresh.fi/Sivut/default.aspx. Scroll down a little and press “Katso video” (somewhere on the right-hand side of the screen).Right now this very ad is a hot topic over here. It all started when it was found out that a handful of people (7, to be exact) had approached the Finnish Consumer Agency and complained about it. Some thought that the Finnish Council of Ethics

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-75055604753800374442009-10-17T07:00:00.004+03:002009-10-17T17:19:50.454+03:00

”Five minutes and it’s bedtime, Ben.”“Ok Mommy!”(Five minutes later.)“Ben, bedtime!”“I’ll just finish drawing this monster.”Or: “Just a minute, I’ve nearly finished building this battle ship.”Or: “Yes, Mommy, but I’ll just show you first how well I can stand on my head.”Or: “Ok! But let’s finish listening to this song first.”Or: “Mommy, I’m hungry actually. I’ll just have this apple.”Or: “You

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-27662971937186796112009-10-15T23:25:00.004+03:002009-10-15T23:48:50.652+03:00

I’m hooked on Spotify. I can’t believe that there’s all that music there at my fingertips – and that all I have to do is to find it.So far I’ve found pretty much everything that I’ve ever liked since I was a child. But when you’ve done that, found all your all-time favourites, you get hungry. Hungry for something new, music that you’ve not known before but that speaks to you now.And to find it...

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-69947660572832730302009-10-15T07:00:00.000+03:002009-10-15T13:04:39.818+03:00

It was a beautiful morning, and I was enjoying my breakfast in a hotel in Konstanz, Germany. Fried eggs, fresh bread, hot black coffee, yoghurt. The breakfast lounge was nearly empty: I could see a group of businessmen, an elderly German couple and a chap in his mid 30’s on his own.Suddenly I could see this man in his mid 30’s walking towards me. That’s odd, I thought, no one ever goes to talk

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-65764755992530881642009-10-13T22:10:00.003+03:002009-10-13T22:18:30.531+03:00

My blog has looked pretty much the same ever since I set it up more than 3.5 years ago (strange how it feels like a short yet a really long time; so much has happened since).But now it's time for a facelift! Today my blog looks like this, but let's wait and see if this is the one to settle with for the next 3-and-a-bit years...

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-43405545233745727792009-10-11T21:48:00.003+03:002009-10-11T21:59:33.173+03:00

What do you do when you're home alone? You dance of course! Well, that's what I do (much to my own surprise as for years I've been the "I don't dance" girl).And now I'm about to reveal something very, very,very extremely personal...Are you ready for this? My home-alone-woolly-sock-baggy-jogging-bottoms dance list as it is right now (for those on Spotify):http://open.spotify.com/user/

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-21510631371785585822009-09-12T19:49:00.000+03:002009-09-12T19:50:33.354+03:00

The train had stopped at Jämsä railway station. I was on my way home. Another half an hour.Some people got off, an elderly couple, among others. A younger woman had come to meet them at the station. Must be their daughter, I thought.The woman hugged them both, and then tried to take the suitcase off her dad’s hands. The old man pulled away, holding on to the bag tightly. The younger woman tried

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-47180835222712656212009-09-06T10:30:00.003+03:002009-09-06T10:35:54.882+03:00

Is your life dull? Do you feel that something more should be happening to you? If so, blame it on films and television series; they make us wrongly assume that in life, something should be happening all the time, and that every day of your life ought to be filled with meaning and drama. Like this:On a good dayIn the morning you have quick yet fantastic morning sex with your gorgeous husband. Then

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-61537611303434760262009-08-20T06:34:00.002+03:002009-08-20T15:27:49.616+03:00

I’m a very proud mother of the greatest little boy on the planet Earth, have been for the past 6.5 years. But still I feel like that I’m growing into my motherhood very slowly: It’s not until now that I’m starting to truly understand that I don’t have to change my personality in order to be “how mothers are”.Of course a mother doesn’t have to be a certain type of person (a forever patient good

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-82337774843016611832009-08-18T07:43:00.000+03:002009-08-18T10:01:52.664+03:00

Over the past 6 months or so I’ve come across several people who are passionate about golf. Now, golf – or any ballgame for that matter – has been to me like a sport from another planet.And why is that? Well, I can’t play ballgames. Simple as that. A couple of examples:During the 9 years of basic education, I managed to hit the the ball in pesäpallo (kind of baseball but different) once. That’s

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-55239808628219592272009-07-15T14:25:00.006+03:002009-07-15T15:33:58.224+03:00

“The more you try to fight and resist something, the more powerful that thing becomes.”Wise words, Mr. Anthony de Mello.So, here we go:I’m middle aged, I have a massive midlife crisis and I don’t have a clue about anything.But I'm not fighting you any longer, my dear Midlife Crisis, I finally accept this dance, thank you very much. I can’t wait to get to know you better, I can’t wait to see where

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-67133505749516396162009-07-14T22:01:00.011+03:002009-07-14T22:19:00.558+03:00

Smoked and peppered mackerel salad, hapankorppu and wine......followed by, not blueberry cake and ice cream, but blueberry cake ice cream. Yummy scrummy.Isn't it amazing what you have time for when you're on holiday and your child is away? Taking photos of your dinner and publishing them – amazing.PS. Thanks for the good company Elizabeth (though I'm looking forward to moving on from all that

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-77920561256682638542009-07-03T16:15:00.002+03:002009-07-03T16:23:37.031+03:00

To a wasp: ”You fool, how did you end up there? I’m afraid I can’t save you because you’ll sting.”To Misty the Dog: “And what exactly is so awful about horses on television? Stop that barking NOW.”To a banana: “Goodness, you’re brown. No offence, but I don’t like brown bananas. I don’t like green bananas either. The only colour that I like, when it comes to you bananas, is yellow.”To morning show

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-81363327114872818572009-07-03T07:09:00.000+03:002009-07-03T10:15:23.295+03:00

I had never gone out for a drink on my own before. But then on Wednesday I did. I thought that I’d feel awkward and that I’d stick out like a sore thumb. But it didn’t feel awkward at all once I got there. In fact, it was really quite nice. I’ll never hesitate again.I’ve never been on a holiday trip on my own. But soon I will. After some very careful weighing of options (it’s not easy to pick one

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-40046029259696329072009-06-29T22:13:00.001+03:002009-06-30T08:25:34.314+03:00

If you’re not interested in reading about bras and breasts, you can stop here.…Ok, so, now I’m probably with a very small handful people, who want to hear me out on this generally speaking uninteresting matter.The thing is: I went shopping today and realised that it’s virtually impossible to find a nice, unpadded bra. Conclusion: I’d say 98 percent of breasts that you see out there are nowhere

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-28035870735431969152009-06-26T09:23:00.002+03:002009-06-26T09:26:09.344+03:00

I’ve been thrown back in the 1980’s this morning.That’s when we used to go to “woolly sock discos” in Hauhola, Linna and Vuohenki (warm greetings to everyone who was there!).That’s when we used to have sleepovers at friends’ houses. We didn’t sleep, of course, but chatted through the nights (about boys), wrote our diaries (about boys) and watched the hottest music videos featuring cute boys (

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-41163519335212000972009-06-24T00:45:00.000+03:002009-06-24T00:46:34.153+03:00

Finding penpals and exchanging long letters with them was one of my favourite hobbies when I was a child. I must’ve had dozens of penpals through the school years, but unfortunately I can only remember a handful of them by name: Taru, Maija, Tiina, Jaana.I had my local friends of course, but my penfriends weren’t any less important: If anything, there were things that you were more likely to

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-60453285972457685502009-06-22T21:25:00.002+03:002009-06-22T21:29:10.872+03:00

I’m planning to go somewhere when I start my summer holiday in a couple of weeks. But where do I want to go?Do I want a city break with lots and lots to see? And miles and miles to walk? That’d be interesting, but probably tiring too.Do I want to escape to a far-away mountain cottage where a few friendly mountain goats would be my only company? Hmm, I’m not interested in meeting people, but I

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-81655525940507151382009-05-18T12:53:00.004+03:002009-05-18T13:46:07.420+03:00

Through highs and lows of life, I cry. And cry and cry and cry. But there are situations when you can't cry but somehow you need to make yourself stop.These are some good mental images that I use and that I've found to be great cry-stoppers (feel free to use them if you like):Chainsaw murdererMinistry of the InteriorDIY shopBryan AdamsMatti Vanhanen (Finnish Prime Minister)The Bachelor (

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-44994083902896215422009-05-10T07:23:00.004+03:002009-05-10T07:27:40.647+03:00

"Children! Quickly, come and see! I can see God’s cape in the sky!”A room full of 2 to 5 year-olds dropped whatever they were doing and rushed to the window.“Look carefully, dangling down from behind that cloud.”“Oh yes, I can see it too!”“Me too!”“And me!”It was 1974 in Kajaani in a nursery run by a religious organization called the Finnish Lutheran Mission. I was 4 years old, and however hard I

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-52432947332421913522009-05-08T21:15:00.004+03:002009-05-08T21:21:26.153+03:00

It was just three years earlier that Petronella had landed what she had, at least at the time, considered the absolute dream job at an advertising agency that everyone thought was the coolest and the hippiest company in town.The name of the company alone was full of promise, energy and adrenaline:Punchline!And the slogan – plain genius:“We punch. The line.”

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-41096583313172924522009-05-08T20:26:00.005+03:002009-05-08T20:33:57.576+03:00

Shoes were never anything I used to get excited about. And those who did I thought were plain insane.But now, I’m not the woman I used to be, shoe-wise.My latest purchase, ta-daa! I love it. Them actually, I bought one for each foot.

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-5700647679861881602009-05-08T08:57:00.004+03:002009-05-08T09:01:23.182+03:00

That’s me. I ran over a rabbit earlier this week when I was driving home from work. It all happened in a split second: I saw a car in front of me swerve, and then a thump, something hit the front of my car. I looked through the rear view mirror and there it was poor thing flat on the motorway.Completely shaken, I arrived home and called the police. I’d like to say that I phoned just so that they

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-58255877356738903972009-05-02T20:29:00.008+03:002009-05-02T20:37:28.649+03:00

2.35 PM4.15 PM 5.45 PM 6.10 PM

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-27952050541624069992009-05-01T21:56:00.003+03:002009-05-01T22:03:16.356+03:00

The ice on the lake won't last much longer. Funny lines this year.

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-79376747506379510702009-04-30T21:16:00.002+03:002009-04-30T21:30:06.337+03:00

It’s been years since I’ve been to see the students put the hat on the statue in town. (Are you asking: Put on what hat? On what statue? And why? I couldn’t be bothered to explain, but it’s this kind of thing I’m talking about, only that my town is smaller.)Anyway, I was there today with the family. My son wore his Darth Vader outfit and looked totally cool. And, to my surprise, it was really

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-61997272649884172822009-04-29T07:43:00.006+03:002009-04-29T20:07:29.262+03:00

When she had just been born, I had refused to look at her (that's what I've been told).When she was 1 and I was 3, I was helping our mum to rinse the dishes. I decided not to rinse my sister's plate in the hope that she'd die of a washing up liquid poisoning.Also: Once I dared her to tip the contents of a full potty on the floor. She did, and immediately I shouted: "Mommy, mommy! Himppu tipped

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-24543350714943663492009-04-27T22:07:00.002+03:002009-04-27T22:12:48.446+03:00

I haven't been dead-dead, pretty much in the same way as I hadn't given birth-birth the other time.

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-39078785172419109132009-04-27T21:54:00.002+03:002009-04-27T21:57:29.285+03:00

I think I’ve been dead for a long time in fact. Didn’t realize it until this morning when I was driving to work.It was a beautiful morning, the car radio was blasting on full and suddenly it came to me that I was – alive!Phew, this is a relief. Not planning on dying again, it’s miserable and boring.

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-73489182956995319582009-01-30T20:59:00.003+02:002009-01-30T21:15:05.187+02:00

It’s fascinating, and what is it really about? As one of the 90,000+ followers I must say that there is something peculiarly addictive about following his whereabouts, eatabouts and shootabouts (films, not guns). I’m a little hooked on Twitter at the moment (like I always am on newly discovered exciting things for a while), and it really surprises me to learn that they haven’t yet figured out

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-12024576610232686982008-12-02T19:58:00.004+02:002008-12-02T20:03:44.611+02:00

...trala lallal-lallal-laa... No?

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-79845813942346402132008-11-26T20:21:00.004+02:002008-11-26T20:25:35.891+02:00

So, my son can write. Hooray! I think… Those were the first two words that he wrote independently without any help (in addition to his name of course that he’s been able to write for ages).This happened last night. Imagine a mother’s dilemma: Do I tell him off for writing nasty words or praise him for a job well done? No, wasn’t a hard choice actually: of course I went for the latter.But I did

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-83719699030348590032008-11-23T22:27:00.009+02:002008-11-23T23:02:58.975+02:00

I have a treasure, did I ever mention that? I have 14 books filled with events, thoughts and roller-coasters of emotions covering 18 years of my life. The first entry in my first diary was written on July 29, 1981. The last entry in the last book was dated on March 13, 1999. I was 11 when I started and almost 29 when I stopped.For the first time in years I reached my books out the other day. And

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-18893741267436476022008-11-23T10:27:00.006+02:002008-11-23T10:52:00.437+02:00

There’s this song that they’re playing on the radio all the time. It’s called I’ve stopped worrying/Mä oon lakannut huolehtimasta and got to say that Mamba did it again: Managed to find the sore spot of any poor sod struggling with a midlife crisis.Of course I haven’t stopped worrying (yet, she’s adding optimistically), but perhaps that day will come? Now, let’s see, the singer songwriter Tero

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-35207726039628225182008-11-22T10:01:00.009+02:002008-11-22T16:37:15.184+02:00

Around midnight last night I found myself at the strangest place: Walking up a hill along a bendy road in the middle of a forest not far from home.There were no street lights, just snow reflecting enough for me to see where I was going. It was silent, calm and beautiful, and it didn’t cross my mind to be afraid of anything.It wasn’t until this morning that I thought that maybe I can consider

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-7834674468690563882008-11-21T08:42:00.005+02:002008-11-21T08:48:07.219+02:00

Morning blue 8.30 AM, back garden.

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-1717894151665236782008-11-20T23:11:00.003+02:002008-11-23T10:45:53.506+02:00

We all have them. Those other lives, the ones where all our ”what ifs” actually happened.Like…What if I had stayed with my high-school sweetheart? I’d probably still live in my hometown, wouldn’t have gone to the university, own half a hunting dog and have four children.What if I had gone to Joensuu to study English as I originally was supposed to? Where would I be now? No idea. Could’ve got run

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-23658944187199986732008-10-17T22:41:00.003+03:002008-10-18T00:46:13.424+03:00

A dying elderly woman (84) contacted a Finnish newspaper, asking if they might know who to contact for support when you’re dying. She said:“I know that I’m dying soon but no one seems to believe me. I want to talk about it with someone. What can I do?”She said that her daughter does visit her every day, but the daughter had said that she doesn’t want to talk about her own mother’s death with her

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-20988788244659051422008-10-08T20:29:00.005+03:002008-10-18T00:39:05.384+03:00

Right, this one actually happened last week, but I only found out about it yesterday after returning home from a definitely very heterosexual wedding in England.When I first read about it, I thought it must be a joke. Because things like this simply don’t happen anymore!Then I thought about it a little and realized that of course things like this happen all the time; we just don’t find out about

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-76975540395484720342008-09-11T21:14:00.003+03:002008-09-11T21:20:56.247+03:00

That's what I just had at the hotel restaurant (here in Stavanger).It wasn't until afterwards that I thought: What does "vegetarian style" actually mean? Does it mean that it really is a vegetarian pizza? Or, could it mean that it's like a vegetarian pizza but actually contains meat? In a vegetarian kind of way?

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-26925504564633828542008-08-29T20:45:00.002+03:002008-08-29T21:03:33.834+03:00

I wouldn’t call it a forest exactly but perhaps a little wood that we have in our back garden. And there we were, in our little wood, one day not long ago, my son and I. Squatting on a big rock, eating raspberries straight from a bush.A windy day had settled to a quiet, calm evening. The sun was still shining, although low, telling us that the longest days of summer were definitely gone for

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-64857740674377010032008-08-16T17:04:00.009+03:002008-08-16T17:15:34.806+03:00

A full, double rainbow right on our doorstep. Wanted to swim to the treasure but the family wouldn't let me.

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-6781362561725465232008-06-22T21:43:00.000+03:002008-06-22T21:44:43.250+03:00

Of course I know that I don’t know everything.For instance, I don’t know how big researchers think that space is just now. I know they say that it’s expanding, but what size we’re talking about now – hmmm, perhaps 20,000 trillion light years across? Just guessing here, I actually have no idea whatsoever.What else don’t I know? Let’s see… I don’t know what woad is. If you’re cercopithecan, what

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-53387041922516827352008-05-29T20:55:00.004+03:002008-05-29T21:18:03.857+03:00

It's hot, I've heard. Everyone's got it, including Kate Moss, Uma Thurman, Reese Witherspoon, Hilary Duff, Kate Hudson, Liv Tyler and Cameron Diaz, to name just a few.So, now that all these friends of mine have it, should I have it too?As you - obviously - know, this is an extremely serious matter, and no rash decisions should be made. There are a number of questions you should ask yourself

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-60059875021138262242008-04-05T18:03:00.001+03:002008-04-05T18:06:28.016+03:00

Those alpha males who can’t stop conquering, like our ex foreign minister – been thinking about them recently.According to an article I recently read, Mr. Kanerva had stated about a decade or so ago that he “just can’t stop conquering. I’m a conqueror, I need to conquer”. Something along those lines.The thing that baffles me is that if you are a true conqueror, why don’t you aim higher? Is an

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-4157295666686555132008-04-04T21:43:00.002+03:002008-04-04T21:51:21.983+03:00

Every time I queue up to get on an airplane, I look at the co-passengers around me and think: "So, these are the people that I'm going to be spending my last moments with."Luckily it didn’t happen this time either. We didn’t crash and die, and I got back home from Stavanger safe and sound.

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-90815476209116683422008-03-13T06:48:00.002+02:002008-03-13T06:52:30.735+02:00

...that's right: It's a website! Vau.fi

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-21694381851881184202008-02-25T22:13:00.002+02:002008-02-25T22:38:56.942+02:00

News are for business men, handicapped children don’t have faces, pregnant women either think that their bellies are the most interesting looking things ever, or seem to have lost their heads.I’ve entered a strange world of stock image banks.Did an image search for “news” and what did I get? Mainly business men (and a few women) checking out the stocks and shares. News is obviously something that

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-42983702951866893152008-02-22T19:51:00.004+02:002008-02-22T20:04:08.551+02:00

I'm so sorry, kissa, for giving you (and possibly a few others) misleading information regarding my "2nd baby":This particular baby is not human. It's an alien. No, sorry. My second baby is the website that I've been working on since I started at my current employer's last September.I love my job and I'd probably work around the clock if I didn't have an actual child to take care of (and a

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-59127398100254952232008-02-20T20:52:00.003+02:002008-02-20T22:04:22.406+02:00

I’ve been told off for not updating my blog. But, how could you possibly concentrate on anything else when you’re really busy giving birth to your second baby?So… I’ll have to get back to you after the final push.Ps. It looks like that at some point I had decided to start moderating my comments - and then forgot all about it. Sorry about that everyone whose comments had been waiting for approval.

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-24725418311469542292008-01-09T20:23:00.000+02:002008-01-09T20:26:36.720+02:00

I’m sorry Mr. Sassoon, but I’ve got to ask: Is it a curler or is it a straightener?

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-86698433526260847452008-01-07T21:12:00.000+02:002008-01-09T08:18:31.143+02:00

You wear your nicest dress, put on your best make-up. You make a pledge and exchange rings. You dance and dine. You have a wonderful night. “I know I Know! It’s a wedding,” you think.Not quite. It’s a Purity Ball.If you think it sounds charming, listen to this, and you’ll like it even more:You’re a girl, anything between 4 and perhaps 25 or so of age. You go to the Purity Ball with your dad, who

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-84973815222959507732007-12-25T20:33:00.000+02:002007-12-25T20:44:34.278+02:00

The moon is 96% of full today, and this is what is looked like through our kitchen window at around 6 p.m.

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-16096930336259471162007-12-14T23:01:00.000+02:002007-12-14T23:19:01.326+02:00

"What ever Anna Eriksson [a Finnish singer] does, she doesn't hold back: When she eats jaffa cakes, she doesn't eat just one but goes ahead and eats six."Me Naiset (50/2007)

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-20755851577147898732007-12-11T20:42:00.000+02:002007-12-11T20:56:01.961+02:00

You join Facebook. You’re overwhelmed for a little while. You do silly things because to start with you don’t have a clue (like hug yourself, which I know that someone did, or drunk dial someone accidentally, which I also know that someone did). Then you start finding friends, some close, some not so close, and some with whom you were close once and are now delighted to be able to re-establish

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-36030347348395880582007-12-09T18:33:00.000+02:002007-12-10T07:22:25.428+02:00

…comes with reindeer meat, and is cutely called Rudolf. To see for yourself, there it is, number 52 on the menu.

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-34025464398433014792007-12-09T18:20:00.000+02:002007-12-09T18:27:17.307+02:00

Santa pays a personal visit on Christmas Eve to every Finnish home with small children. That’s right, a personal visit. What a job, you might think, but I suppose he’s used to it, and I suppose Rudolf's really fast.Yeah right. What actually happens is one of the following:1) If your children are small enough, Santa pays them a quick visit just a short moment after Daddy has “popped to the shop to

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-61018812358558440762007-12-09T13:14:00.000+02:002007-12-09T18:41:58.723+02:00

It’s no secret: I don’t like cleaning. Sometimes unfortunately I’m forced to do so anyway unless I want to witness something unpleasant growing somewhere (behind the sofa, in the fridge or underneath that frying pan that has been on the kitchen side since two weeks ago when someone had a brilliant idea of frying liver steaks…).Recent years I’ve many times toyed with the idea of hiring a cleaner

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-7205778765143977282007-12-06T20:55:00.000+02:002007-12-07T08:07:09.320+02:00

It’s our Independence Day today. 90 years of independence. That’s not very long.Anyway, the thing to watch on television on every December 6: The President’s party and two hours of handshaking. That’s when all 2000 (I’m not kidding) guests arrive, and the president and her husband welcome everyone personally by shaking hands with them.Now, it’s not the handshaking but the dresses and hair-do’s

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-20497324779226536622007-11-28T21:02:00.000+02:002007-11-28T22:09:42.240+02:00

— Now, hand on your heart, who’s coming to Finland in June?— It ‘s no secret.— Go on, tell us then.— Ok, I’ll give you a hint. If you put yourself in my place, and…— No no no, none of that guessing game. Just breath, and confide in me. The word is out anyway.— Right. If you were with me now, here in France. — Yes? Yes??— Well, je ne sais pas pourquoi.— What kind of fool do you take me for. Jesus.

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-50744749751021974722007-11-25T21:54:00.000+02:002007-11-26T08:12:33.078+02:00

The last trip to Norway for this year is now behind me. I got back home on Saturday, after another lovely week and a great Christmas party on Friday night with nearly one hundred jolly happy Norwegian people (now, why are they so much jollier than an average Finn, I wonder).But, it has been a busy autumn with starting a new job, travelling, packing, unpacking, rushing from gate to gate at

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-64647128796553311122007-11-20T08:42:00.000+02:002007-11-20T12:09:22.849+02:00

Pure and confusedI’m pure, I prefer to protect my emotions and stay strong. For me, comfort and calm are very important. I’m usually distant and easily confused by emotions. I seem to always have an issue to resolve but my complications make me the amazing woman I am.Hip and weirdI’m popular among my friends and they find me very entertaining. Some people dislike me strongly because you I’m too

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-52010497383266722292007-11-08T19:50:00.000+02:002007-11-08T20:14:04.978+02:00

Roger Boyes from The Times, you don't have many friends in Finland right now. And I have to say that I'm not too impressed with your "analysis" on the tragic events in Tuusula yesterday, either. I mean, should you laugh or cry when reading that"In the old days Finns used to believe in the dark power of Tuonela, the mythical land of the dead. Now they believe in YouTube, the land of the virtual

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-17646951750181638392007-11-05T21:33:00.000+02:002007-11-05T21:40:25.703+02:00

And then — he walked in. Petronella gasped. Oh no, not to today. He was not supposed to be in the office today.It’s not that Petronella didn’t like seeing Nathan, their creative director— quite the contrary: She loved seeing him, all 1,91 metres of his toned yet not overly muscular, boyish body, his sandy-coloured hair that always seemed slightly wind-swept and his deep green eyes that always

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-83176318784459215632007-11-04T00:16:00.000+02:002007-11-04T09:26:02.270+02:00

It was 5 o’clock in the morning. I got up quickly, I always did back then; you’re awake, the new day has begun, why stay in bed?I was wide awake, but the rest of the family was still fast asleep. Not a huge surprise. It was Sunday after all. So, what was there to do?I looked out of the window. Yes, still dark, as it would be in February at 5 a.m. It was snowing, lightly, as it does when the

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-42605685726305952032007-11-02T21:39:00.000+02:002007-11-02T21:53:02.669+02:00

When you are with your Mom, you’re someone’s child. You can be that little girl that you once were. You can ask silly questions without feeling silly. You can tell bad jokes, and she laughs anyway. You can tell about your successes and know that no one could be prouder of you than your Mom.You can call her when the world around you is collapsing, and she always has time to listen. She may not

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-81951289666351046792007-10-23T00:24:00.000+03:002007-10-23T11:21:25.367+03:00

A moment ago I started unpacking my case (in Norway again), and very quickly sensed that something wasn’t quite how it should have been. And then — oh no! — my transparent max-one-litre travel toiletry bag was not where it always is: on the bottom right-hand corner of the case, on top of everything else.I gasped and turned around, very quickly, as if to see if the bag had just tried to trick me

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-49646891368239102122007-10-13T22:38:00.000+03:002007-10-13T22:48:18.958+03:00

I mean, it’s not all bad, is it? Doesn’t it just mean that you are really making the most out of everything that really thrills you one way or another?Or is it just me making excuses now that I’m completely and utterly hooked on Facebook?Anyway, whatever, got to go. To Faceb… I mean, let’s say, to wash my hair. And to read War and Peace.

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-87703400934105667042007-10-12T07:44:00.000+03:002007-10-12T07:45:36.662+03:00

So, you turn to dirt after you’ve died? Do you get that circly thing above your head when you’re dead? Can children die? Can you talk just a little bit just before you die? If you fall down off the top of that sky scraper, do you die, or does it just hurt a little? Why do people die? Would you die there (in a tumble dryer)?

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-78590748601480237612007-10-03T21:06:00.000+03:002007-10-04T06:36:03.273+03:00

That’s it, I’m speechless. Are you ready for this? The big news today is that it turns out that Kate Moss’s eye lashes on a recent mascara advert for Rimmel have been digitally enhanced to make them look longer than they actually are!I mean, is nothing sacred anymore? And what are they going to do next? Airbrush Andie McDowell and Sarah Jessica Parker?No, sorry, now I’m letting my imagination run

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-12338140161802665882007-09-30T20:48:00.000+03:002007-10-01T08:04:51.029+03:00

Sure it can look pretty with leaves turning yellow and red and all that, but nothing can make me feel good about autumn. In fact, I don’t like it at all, and there are many good reasons for it:1. As the nights get darker, I’m not able to stay awake. By 9 every night I’m asleep on the settee. The force of sleep is far greater than me and there’s absolutely nothing that can keep me awake. I’ve even

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-48637298005359024762007-09-27T22:17:00.000+03:002007-09-27T22:25:29.699+03:00

How can anyone who’s so blunt, crude and dysfunctional be so hot?If I wasn’t married already and if Dr. House happened to propose, I’d say yes, pack my bags and move to Princeton. Immediately.

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-13415060218909322742007-09-26T20:48:00.000+03:002007-09-26T20:51:00.573+03:00

What if...?

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-65706257351184533592007-09-25T22:12:00.000+03:002007-09-26T07:37:28.979+03:00

Toothpaste, face soap, toner, moisturiser, magic drops, lip cream, lip gloss, light pen, mascara, perfume, eye drops, hair mousse, hairspray, shampoo, conditioner, deodorant.It’s not easy to fly with just hand luggage when you’re a woman. All the bare necessities mentioned above must be crammed in one resealable bag no bigger than one litre in size.But, I can tell you, it’s doable. All you need

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-9691139665925073772007-09-21T19:06:00.000+03:002007-09-24T14:31:31.240+03:00

I had no idea that working could be this much fun. I've now reached a conclusion that I've probably found the best employer in the world.And I'm not just saying this to brown-nose my new employer; this is a happy person talking. And I don't care if there's someone out there getting completely sick of me bragging about my new job. Because I just love it. Love. It.Yours truly, tired but happy,

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-85666796608285340302007-09-13T20:33:00.000+03:002007-09-14T07:58:15.232+03:00

I know everything there is to know about the first 13 weeks of pregnancy. Did you know, for example, that ultrasound at 8 weeks should show a fluttering heartbeat, and that around the same time little elbows begin to form in the arms and fingers start to develop? Or that at 13 weeks the face of an embryo is looking more and more human each day as the eyes begin to move closer together instead of

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-40089476437562272652007-09-09T09:17:00.000+03:002007-09-10T07:05:05.573+03:00

I’ve fallen head over heels in love with Norway but so far there’s one thing I don’t get, and that’s brown cheese. It’s cheese and it’s brown. And the taste - even one of my new Norwegian colleagues said that he does have it on bread but only with a thick layer of jam to cover the taste of the cheese.

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-87490934850380769282007-09-04T00:54:00.000+03:002007-09-04T00:58:40.153+03:00

Well well well, what can I say? All us new editors (3 of us) have been made to feel strategically important, we’ve been looked after like we were the most special people in the world, and we’ve been wined and dined all night. The air is thick with promise and excitement about the challenges ahead. It’s all very intoxicating.On Wednesday we’re going to climb a mountain. Or a cliff rather,

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-41867109190017261432007-09-02T22:12:00.000+03:002007-09-02T22:28:06.342+03:00

Got up spontaneously this morning at 5.30, which was lucky because I had forgotten to set my alarm. I had thought about it but never acted on it strangely. Anyway, so then I had breakfast, packed, jumped in a taxi, jumped on the train, jumped on the plane and eventually got to Oslo at 3 this afternoon. I sat down to wait for my connecting flight, and after a while queued to get on the plane. Then

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-32736530241872805882007-09-01T01:24:00.000+03:002007-09-01T08:58:32.932+03:00

Johanna, Anne, Tiinu, Mika, Marja, Allu, Pekka, Jukka, Juha:KIITOS!Elämän maailma on avoin kulkeaminulla on oikeus erehtyäja olla oikeassakaiken aikaa.(Kai Nieminen, 1977. Kiireettä)

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-66267721367928057122007-08-30T22:33:00.000+03:002007-09-02T06:21:04.156+03:00

Well, he's not MacBook, but he's small (12-inch screen) and he's light (1.8 kg). I don't understand him that well yet (he's definitely him: black and grey and square), but that's only understandable, I suppose, since we've only known each other for a few hours.

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-49580146661920022002007-08-27T12:45:00.000+03:002007-08-27T12:48:58.692+03:00

This is the last week.Today: One last interviewing trip to Helsinki (and here I am as we speak, in Eliel again).Tomorrow: Cake (that I’m planning to make...) and coffee in the office. Laughter and probably buckets of tears.Wednesday to Friday: Working like mad to get everything done.Friday: Leaving party (stand-up comedy and good food, my kind of thing exactly, thank you friends!), laughter and

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22974155.post-22488821823973363172007-08-24T22:11:00.000+03:002007-08-25T20:49:56.137+03:00

Is there anyone else out there that could just eat and eat and eat cheese? I love it and crave it so much that I’m convinced that it must be extremely good for me. Why else would I feel so passionately about it?Rich blue cheese on ginger biscuits – with port. Mmmm. Creamy goat’s cheese sauce with pasta. Delicious. Four cheeses pizza. Irresistable. A decent block of red Leicester. I rest my case.

Petrahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13567373294809044238noreply@blogger.com4