It actually feels like “Autumn” here. Almost as soon as September started the days got far cooler, leaves began to fall and the sky began to get dark too soon. There is a lovely chill in the breeze, the kind that makes walking fun, pinches your cheeks and glows them once you get inside.

I’m not feeling the cold as much as I would in similar temperatures back in Adelaide, so I’ve been able to survive most days with a tshirt, light scarf and hoodie. I was given advice from a fellow Australian to face the cold and to only start wearing extra layers when I really needed them. Thanks to my trusty Icebreaker Nomad, I won’t need that much extra warmth for a while.

For a while there I thought I’d lost my Nomad, one of the best items of clothing (it looks awesome, keeps me warm, non stinky, and can be worn anywhere) I’ve ever owned, so I’ve already bought a couple of extra layers from H&M. Luckily, the top was found and I’ve now [hopefully] got enough clothing to keep me warm until the start of winter.

Though I reserve the right to buy new jeans, anything I like in Rome and as many pairs of stripey socks as I can bear.

:::…

Turning 27 Returning 25 Birthday Plans:

If you happen to be anywhere in Northern Europe and wish to get drunk with me on my birthday I’ll be working until 6 and then moving from behind the bar to somewhere on the other side of the bar. I have to work the next day so I can’t get too trashed.

:::…

Long term plans are coming together. I know that I’ll be back in Adelaide for the start of March. That gives me ample time to say hello, eat my mother’s house clean and then get ready for Fringe Festival, Womadelaide, my baby brother’s 18th birthday and of course, Sarah and Aidan’s wedding. I don’t know how long I’ll stay in Australia or where I’ll head to next. But there will be a road trip or two (want to come along), bike riding and lots of fun to be had.

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It seems that almost every AussieKiwiBritishCanadianAmerican guy who lives in Finland is here because of a Suomi girl. Either that or they’re in IT or received some wicked science fellowship. The odds are heavily stacked on the romance side though.

Describing why I’m in Finland is another story altogether. Some days I describe (in elaborate detail) a story of adventure that ends in heartbreak. More frequently I say “iwastravellingandneededtostopandworkandiwasjustgoingtostaythesummerbutimade
friendsandnowi’mstayinghereabitlonger”.* However, like all the other expats, I can pretty honestly say that I initially stayed in Finland because of a girl.

Let me introduce :

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Ninnu is the person who told me that there would be more berries than I could eat in the forest at the end of summer. Sadly, due to global warming and drought, there were hardly any berries.

Ninnu is funny and strong and beautiful and caring and gives hugs whenever I need them and knows about needing to write and paint and read and drink tea. She is mother to a beautiful daughter, owner of an incredibly cute puppy and wife to one of the I know. The friends I’ve met through her (such as Jade and Radek) are an awesome addition to my international artillery of cool people. Ninnu is patient and loving and makes awesome rhubarb pie. Her garden grows tall and her apartment smells nice.
I feel at home at Ninnu’s place, even if don’t get to visit there as often as I’d like.

Staying in Finland has given me a lot of wonderful things. I’ve met so many awesome people and become more sure of myself and what I want from life. However, I think that consolidating my initial friendship with Ninnu is going to end up being one of the most important experiences.

There’s no way that Ninnu can replace any of my other friends back home, but she definitely makes missing them a little easier to bear.

*[For the record, some days I think I'll stay here and study or work, other days I think about running back to Australia and staying there forever and other days I think about travelling some more and living in a couple more countries. But I'm here in Finland a bit longer. That's for sure.]

Pan’s Labyrinth

I think I’ve mentioned before, that one of the great things about living in a non-English speaking country is the ease with which one can distance themself from current affairs and depressing news from both back home and one’s current country of residence. However, that ease of distance only works out if you don’t actively seek finding out any news and resist the temptation to watch BBC World.

I’ve got subscriptions to Crikey and the ABC’s twice daily news mailout. Aside from emails from friends and family back home, those news mailouts are my most urgently read emails every morning. Recently I’ve followed the response to IR changes, Steve Vizard’s investigation, the further devolution of the Democrats and the story of Today Tonight’s Naomi Robson trying to save a 6 year old boy from [an alleged fate of] being eaten by cannibals in Papua New Guinea.

I’ve woken up to stories about Steve Irwin’s death by stingray and the other day I read about the coup in Thailand and watched a couple of reports on the BBC.

The most interesting stories for me though are the continual reports of our supposed leader, John Howard, continuing to resist calls for a strong approach against climate change.

“Whilst believing that the planet is getting warmer,” he argued that strong government action would “do a lot of short and medium term damage to the Australian economy” and would “send industries offshore, send Australian jobs to countries like China and Indonesia.” I think, he said, “we can tackle the problem in a different and equally effective way.”

Australian Prime Minister, John Howard, quoted in Crikey, September 20, 2006

Of course, in the days following the Crikey mailout that prompted this post, the big news in climate change has been the $3.9 billion investment into renewable energy by Richard Branson’s Virgin transport sector.

Oh.  It just makes me so bloody frustrated!

It’s lucky I’m not living in Australia at the moment, because I’d have a good mind to drive a hybrid car up the steps of Parliament House in protest, even if I would be considered a terrorist threat.

Time to put the computer down, breathe deeply and go for a walk I think. The last time I got upset about Australia’s lack of government and industry momentum against climate change and towards sustainability I ended up having some pretty serious panic attacks.

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i don’t have enough blu-tak at the moment to stick up the flowers independent of the a4 pages, so it looks a little patchy. but here’s the start of my garden wall.

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In my new found role as a bartender, I highly recommend a shot of Fisu, or Fisherman’s Friend vodka liquor.

Fisherman’s Friend liquor may be available in a bottle shop near you, it’s made in Denmark and I’ve only encountered it here in Finland.  But it’s pretty easy to make at home.
Buy ten (10) packets of Fisherman’s Friend lozenges. Crush them up. Don’t inhale!  Dissolve the powder in a 750mL bottle of vodka. Let that sit for a couple of days and shake it up every now and then.   Put the bottle of Fisu in the freezer and let it get really, really cold.

Pour a shot and knock it back.

Good for what ails you. Even when you’re not getting a cold.

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Tomorrow, the 18th of September marks 6 months since I left Australia.

I might not have been travelling for the past three months, but I’ve grown and in that way I’ve moved a long way. At the same time I’ve become far more sure of myself and the core things that I want and need, and I’ve realised that those things haven’t changed much over the last 6 years, let alone the last 6 months.

I know that I don’t want full time work of any variety unless it is something I truly love doing. The sacrifice of self is just too great.

I need things such as: sleep, tea, adventures, books, colour, hugs, friends, a garden, a place to call home (a room, a house, a town).

The other day I applied for my residency permit, which finally, despite what my passport says, marks me as a European resident, not just a citizen.

Somedays this place feels temporary, at other moments I realise I’m thinking about coming back here after I’ve gone back to Australia next year, rather than going to Canada or Japan.

Could I give up Australia or even Adelaide forever?

No. I miss my friends and my family. I realise that most business and creative ideas I have are formulated for A-town. I miss my Friday nights and Saturday mornings at the market and riding home with a bike laden with food and flowers.

:::..

I painted this rosella for my wall garden the other day. Up close it looks like a painting, but viewed from the other side of the room I can almost imagine the cackle of bird tongue and flash of colour through gum leaves.

I miss the sounds the birds make. The smell of the trees.

I don’t miss the politics and the way Australia is changing as a society and nation.

:::…

Big happy, teary thanks to Kasia for her most delightful parcel of love and goodness. Shout out to Ninnu and my Dad for most appreciated phone calls this morning. I love you guys.

I finally received my first piece of comment criticism.
I suppose it’s one of those blogging milestones, like losing your job because of your blog (never ever hopefully), receiving emails from foot fetishists (no kidding) or having a stranger walk up to you in a foreign country and introduce themelves as a reader (Hi Anu!). Now I’ve reached the milestone where someone reads my blog, doesn’t like what they’re reading and decides to tell me about it.

And here’s the first and only time I’m going to respond to such a comment. Luckily it wasn’t that harsh and the person who wrote it made some valid points:

1. fucking fruit cake
2. Grow up
3. self-obsessed

Hmmm. Now I just happen to write a personal blog in which I deal with my anxiety, post-break up depression and work out what I’m going to do with my life. This guy’s pretty much hit the nail on the head with his description.

And he doesn’t seem to like what he’s reading. This casual reader keeps on coming back to read something that doesn’t appeal to him.

Sorry mate, but at the moment, this blog is about my self-obsession. It is about my recovery from a breakup and an attack of anxiety. It isn’t about free MP3s or cool new gadgets. It isn’t about gourmet cuisine or celebrity gossip. It’s about me.

Yes I do need to change and grow. And I’m writing out that process. But quite frankly I feel pretty grown up already.

Yes I am a nutcase.

A while ago debate was sparked between my mother (yes) and Dan (no) as to whether I needed to be on medication. I probably don’t need medication, though St John’s Wort can make things better. At the start of this year I should have been going to a counsellor or therapist and not gone overseas. But I left Australia because I wanted to be with Dan, the man I loved. And then my life went to pieces even further.

In Australia, post-breakup I would have definitely spoken to a professional. But I was in a non-English speaking country 15,000 km from home and even though I had people to speak to, I didn’t even have my best-friends available at the time when I needed them, let alone affordable access to a counsellor who spoke my language.

I haven’t been able to get a hug from my mum, let alone anyone who I’d known for more than a week. I haven’t had access to my GP to get a checkup, physically or mentally and ultimately a referral to further help. I haven’t had my best friends awake at the same time for me to ring up and talk my current personal dilemnas out to.

And so I’ve written instead. For two months I wrote three pages of really mundane, self-obsessed stuff every morning that won’t even make it online. And it helped tremendously. Maybe I should start doing that again in between waking up and going to work fulltime and sleeping and trying to consolidate my new friendships and working out a new culture. I’d really like to, I’ve tried, but quite frankly it’s really hard to restart that process.

So maybe too much vulnerability is creeping online and not just onto the page.

I would love to be a perfect, creative, beautiful blogger who writes about how the sun shines everyday and how she wakes up and does everything she’s ever wanted to do without quaking from the fear of failure. But I’m not. I’m a self-obsessed nutcase who’s trying to grow up, whose therapy just happens to be writing and posting it for the world to read.

Some people read what I write and connect with me in an incredibly rewarding touching private email manner. Some people read what I write and provide me with what I will choose to regard as constructive criticism via battlecat’s public comment system.

If those aforementioned people don’t like what I’m writing they could just as easily not come back read more. Because I’m not going away.