I shouldn’t, but I do. Sunday, Sep 20 2009

Thank you, M., for sending me this site I shouldn’t like, but I do. Like, “oh dear god, I’m laughing too hard to breath” -like. I’m evil, don’t act like you didn’t know that.

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Abandonment, and some issues Sunday, Sep 20 2009

Okay, so I just got abandoned into a hotel suite in Copenhagen by my Dear ol’ dad. Apparently he was “needed”. So it was time for me to do some soul searching. How’s that all connected, you might ask. Well, mes petites, through this little link called “my dad’s underling”. He was rather cute, you see, and I hadn’t met him before. So of course I tried to appear as adorable and charming as I could. And then, when I was left alone, I checked my blogroll. And if someone had answered my earlier comments in a discussion. (more details in a moment, to explain that one.)

Which brought to mind what H said about me back in St. Barts. That while I don’t care about whether people like me or not, I want people to fall in love with me.

The annoying thing about H is that she knows me. Like, really knows me. And when she says something like that, you can bet your favourite pair of Louboutins she’s right. As she was in this case. I do want people to, if not fall madly in love with me as that’s highly potential stalker material, to be absolutely fascinated by me.

Why is that? Was I left with too little attention as a child? Was I made to work for affection? Do I feel like I have to earn people’s good opinion of me, their interest in me? Do I feel that what am I, when I’m not “being ii”, is not enough to make them like me?

Recently I’ve been involved in some pretty lively discussions with some people, some of which I know, but not all. And this all has happened on the blog of someone I like. Not as in “wish to shag senseless”, after all, there’s BF, but I do wish to become a good friend of this person. He interests me, and I hope to get to know him better. For clarity’s sake, let’s call him Boots.

Well, as I checked the blog in which we’ve been having these lively conversations, I noticed that Boots hadn’t reacted to my comment. And I wondered: why not? Why aren’t you paying me attention? What am I doing wrong, why don’t you like me?

How silly is that?!?

I have been called funny and smart and I’ve received all kinds of praise, even in that blog, from people who both know and don’t know me. It’s nice to get compliments. But after a while, when you do get them, you start craving for them, or for them to lead into something. If I’m so funny and clever and whatnot, why aren’t you paying more attention to me, Boots?!

Which is incredibly childish. But in line with H’s theory that I must have everyone fall in love with me.

I should go back to therapy, shouldn’t I?

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The naked truth Monday, Aug 31 2009

It is a truth universally acknowledged that everyone’s got wobbly bits. But when your 26, living, albeit temporarily, at your grand-mother’s, and your thesis has been a work-in-progress for so long that the professor supervising you took and died*, the least you can do for your self-esteem is to look good naked.

I’m meeting with my trainer today for the first time. She is doing me a personalised training program, and we’ll be going through that today. I can’t tell you how excited I am about that. I’ve nearly driven BF crazy with all my talk about that. I even bought a new gym bag. It’s pretty. Not like flowers-and-glitter pretty, a very stylish Björn Borg black small sports bag. Just the right size for gym gear, towel and some make-up.

But, and here’s the kicker: I’m not really one of those who consider it a good use of time to sweat your gut out for a few hours in the gym. I much prefer things like pilates. Tennis is okay, too, I should have picked that up again. But I haven’t played since I was a kid, and BF soundly refuses to teach me. According to him looking cute in the little outfits is not an excuse enough to pick up a sport. Excuse me? My own BF doesn’t want to see me in a snappy little skirt?? And yet the Sergio Rossi lace thigh-high boots were a hit? Inconsistent, much, honey?

See, the problem is not so much the size I wear (which is small). It’s that I’m not in that good of a shape physically. And that I have wobbly bits. I need to minimise the wobbly bits.

And with the help of my lovely new personal trainer, I’ll get right on it today! I’m so going to die…

* Too early for those kinds of jokes?

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Good morning to me! Thursday, Aug 27 2009

Coming to work today was a chore. I wasn’t feeling too good, slightly nauseated (later discovered I was just hungry) and I was late. I stopped by the food court at Stockmann’s and as I was coming out of the building, heard some marching band music.

There was a whole bunch of military cadets, led by the relevant marching band, parading down the street, with police escort. All dressed in their fancy uniforms with the swords and everything, in straight lines and with stern faces.

Heaven knows I like me some military uniforms, so… Good morning to me!

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It’s nice to have friends… Sunday, Aug 2 2009

I know you’ll be wanting of stories… and more than stories of my move, stories of my crazy friends. Well, let’s see…

Ski Guy is finding the joys of custom-made clothes. I was smug. “I told you so”, was used.

My Friend With Huge Boobs is in mourning. Someone had left the fridge door open and her entire jar of Snickers ice cream was ruined. Melted beyond the state of edible. We’re all wearing black.

Apparently I am the imaginary friend of Gambler. And even then she has to pay me to be her friend. At least, if you ask her co-workers.

Perfect Morning-After Voice is no longer together with the annoying girlfriend of his. I’m a happy little elf. Of course, I didn’t tell him that. But I am, nontheless.

There’s most probably going to be a whole new person to my stories. My friend E, whom I’ve known since high school, and whom I love dearly. We are now reunited, in terms of geography, and should be getting into all sorts of trouble together. Or at least, into games of hockey, basketball and football. And to the theatre, to ballet, to art galleries and to afternoon coffee’s. Oh, and extremely drunk. Of course. This should be an interesting fall.

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You should have been there… Wednesday, Jul 29 2009

One day during Boat Week we were lounging on the deck, sunbathing and chatting and having refreshing drinks. Somehow the conversation turned to military and in particular, Generation Kill. Now, ever since reading Generation Kill, and checking out every video posted regarding it on youtube (What!? I was bored!) I’ve had a major crush on one of the guys portrayed in the book and the series.

Nothing new there, I’ve crushed over book characters (Capt. Wentworth, anyone?) and guys in movies (Sean Penn in the Interpreter?) before, but these are actual guys, real life, not some fictional make-belief. But, as I soundly refuse to believe in the apparently age-old wisdom of “you can’t always get what you want”, I asked M, my friend who happened to be there with us and serves in the Corps, if he knows them. You know, ’cause I’d love to meet them and all. They all seemed genuinely interesting people.

M goes all indignant on me. “You want me to hook you up with some guy you’ve never met?! First off, I don’t personally know every single US Marine there is!” Then he went on (and on and on!) how there’s actually quite a few of them, how they’re stationed on different bases around the States and how some of them are actually on deployment all the time. Rather condescending, if you ask me, but then again, no one ever does…

Then, after that little rant, he finishes with what has got to be one of the best lines ever. “Besides, what am I? Pimping out the Marine Corps now?!?”

Without missing a beat Hélène, seated next to me, calmly and casually lifted the brim of her hat, and said, nonchalantly,

“yes, please.”

And then she returned to taking in the rays, as if M has just asked if anyone wanted a drink. It was hilarious! I guess you should have been there, but trust me, it was seriously funny!

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Pool-side psychology Wednesday, Jul 15 2009

H: You want everyone to fall in love with you.

Me: What are you talking about? That’s nonsense! I don’t give a whistle on what people think of me. I’m perfectly fine with people not liking me.

H: Yes, that’s right. You don’t want them all to like you. Just to fall in love with you.

I have this annoying gnawing feeling in my stomach that usually means she’s right.

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Some updating, both you and me Thursday, Jul 9 2009

Okay, so I’ve been away. On the Boat Week. Which was amazingly fun, thank you for asking. I managed to avoid burning, mostly by layering SPF50-billion and long sleeved clothes. I did get some sun, so now I’m all freckled again. Which is all good and well, I like them. BF is all tanned and gorgeous, which really isn’t fair. He was having a blast, and got along great with everyone, btw. I have to admit I was a bit worried. Not because I didn’t trust him getting along with my friends, he’s one of those annoying people who get along with everyone! But because we have a very tight group, we’re mostly known each other since we were 6, so it’s really hard for someone new to come into the mix. Especially someone who doesn’t speak French. But he’s learning!

I took a beating in our Scrabble game, by the way. My French vocabulary is diminishing, it seems. Need to pick up some books in French from now on, as well as fashion magazines.

Speaking of fashion, my Boat Week was cut by a very welcome interruption. I’m currently writing this at my own desk, back in Paris, after taking in some of the Couture shows for fall. Once again, I walked out of Jean Paul Gaultier show with a long list of “I want that!” We’ll have to see. There were a few changes I’d like, and stuff, but… I love his stuff, everyone knows that! You can always trust JP to make something that’s at the same time “wow” and somehow so very “me”.

I’ve been streamlining my closet this past spring and early summer. Seriously. I’ve noticed that what with all the house-hopping, being in Finland, France, couple of places in States, I’ve reverted to the American style of wardrobe. And that’s no good. Most importantly, that’s not me. So, streamlining. Which is something I must remember when checking out the fall shows, and deciding what, if any, I’m getting this fall. (I didn’t make it to the Chanel show, but luckily I’m able to catch up with what they had later today.)

It’s time for me to return to my roots, and to the cornerstones of my wardrobe. Having, using, and buying only things I can honestly say I love with a passion. Things I can say I’ll wear 5 years from now. Because that’s always been my thing. I just got lost, together with everyone else, to this buying frenzy of funny little things and chic little pick-me-ups. (Okay, the lace-and-tulle over-the-knee lace-up stiletto heel boots by Sergio Rossi were a justified buy. If for no other reason, than how much BF loves those!)

But that’s all about fashion. Maybe I’ll make a more detailed post later on about it, should anyone care. There was something else I though about… Wonder what it was…

Oh, yes! In my current “I’m loving the Armed Forces” thing, that was started by the HBO mini series Generation Kill, and carried further by the actual book Generation Kill by Evan Wright, I have been immersing myself to the culture of military. It’s really quite fascinating! The bonds that are formed and the comrade that’s evident is quite special. Also, the philosophical yet practical approach these guys have towards things like life and death, war and love and family, is truly intriguing. I’ll write more about my feelings regarding Generation Kill in my review-of-sorts, once I get there, but for now, let’s just say you should all read it. Seriously. Another thing that’s been interesting to see is the way these more recent wars, like Iraq, Afghanistan and to an extent Vietnam, are treated so differently as stories from WWII and other earlier wars. It’s hard to believe that war’s any different, regardless of the time, and yet the image that gets portrayed makes it seem like the actual battle has changed considerably. But then again, what do I know, I’ve never been in any war, I’ve never served in military. Which in turns makes it an even more interesting read.

I was recommended a book called Of Arms and Men by Robert L O’Connell, about how the development of guns and technology has changed not only the wars we fight in but the society. It seems really interesting, so I might have to check that out.

The Boat Week managed to get me back to books again. I was, once again, in a bit of a reading funk, but all that lounging on the deck made me pick up a book and get lost in a story. After all, it’s not like I was going to swim! So… I’m back! Interestingly, I’ve been feeling my old interest to philosophy return, which is great. I’ve missed that. Also, after an embarrassingly long spout of “I can’t really be bothered”, I’m into contemporary issues again. Politics, culture, society. I want to know. And with that, always comes my thirst for history. Which in turn might have been flared up also by the military things I’ve read, as there’s always references to history when you’re talking about war. So all in all, I’m feeling like actually activating my brain again, after a long period of “handbag shopping counts as a sociopolitical and cultural statement, right?”. In the words of J, “the Brain is back”. This should be fun.

Now I have to go, I have an appointment before lunch.

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The difference in compliments Sunday, Jun 21 2009

You’d think that compliment’s a compliment, and they’re all pretty much the same, and all are nice to hear. Well, they are all nice to hear, but there are differences in them. Let’s see…

First, there’s the compulsory compliments. The “oh, you look lovely! Have you had your hair done?” ones, where you’re not really sure if they’re just saying that for the sake of saying something, or if they really do like your hair/dress/earrings. These compliments aren’t really compliments at all, but general social niceties that are required in normal interaction between people. And everyone knows the rules. You’re supposed to give, and receive, them like you mean them. Only, you’re also allowed to be mean with them. Now that’s a skill. Not the obviously mean ones, everyone can do those! But the ones that sounds like a compliment, look like a compliment, even feel like a compliment, except for that little voice in your head that goes “what did she really mean by that?” But as far as we’re not considering the mean version of this compliment, the compulsory compliment is a nice, if empty thing to hear.

Then there’s the “family compliments”. These are nice, make you feel better, until you realise these people are required to say you look nice etc. because they love you. They don’t want to hurt your feelings, so they lie. Or alternatively, they really do think that everything you do, including that unfortunate Flashdance-phase you underwent, is wonderful and an amazing idea. The family compliments usually come from mothers, boyfriends, husbands and other people like that who have an emotional (and sometimes physical) reason to be nice. Nonetheless, it is always nice to hear your new dress looks good on you, truth or not.

Third group of compliments are the ones with a hidden agenda. These are used to flatter you when the one passing them out is really just trying to get something out of you. “You’re so good with organizing like that, I wish I was more like you” is designed to make you take responsibility of whatever function needs to be directed, and taking the responsibility off the shoulders of the person saying that. Even your close friends use these: “That bag is so beautiful! I wish I had your wardrobe.” And before long, you’re either loaning, or even giving, the item in question to your friend.

Of course, there are sincere compliments, too! You’re boyfriend really does think you look beautiful as you meet him for dinner. Your friends love your new hairdo. You really did well in the tennis court this afternoon. These are always compliments one loves to hear. They make you feel all warm and fuzzy and sparkling. Only, once you’ve been in the receiving end of the not-so-nice types of compliments for a rather long time, you start to question these. Are they saying that ’cause they know you? Does your husband think you look beautiful in this outfit because he thinks you look pretty in everything, including that time you wore your grandmothers old straw hat and a pair of denim overalls for some garden work and he said you looked really cute? Are you getting complements for your tennis game, not because it’s actually any good, but because you just don’t suck anymore? Why are they complimenting me?

That’s why my favourite compliments are the Stranger Compliments, or the No-Strings-Attached compliments. When someone who has no idea who I am, and what I can and cannot do, pays me a compliment, I know it’s real. Okay, it can be really shallow, like a long look at my ass. But I’m not judging that as a compliment to my intellect (as which it would be lousy) but as a compliment to the way my ass looks in my snappy little pencil skirt. And that lets me know it looks good. Thank you, sir, now wipe that drool off your chin.

What got me thinking of all this? As of late I’ve started to anonymously comment on Ski Guy’s blog. Okay, he knows it’s me, after all, he caught one of my jokes. But no one else does. And I was just complimented with a comment that I “have some funny comments”. Now, from a complete stranger, that’s a big thing. It made me feel all warm and fuzzy, ’cause I know he (or she, I don’t know) said it purely based on my comments on Ski Guy’s blog. Nothing else. So, I was considered funny. That’s really nice to hear.

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Too late Sunday, Jun 14 2009

Whenever something happens, something bad and terrible and dangerous, people get scared. That’s a given, and perfectly natural. And we start to avoid the thing that went wrong. When the planes hit the Twin Towers people started to avoid flying. When someone gets kidnapped, more security measures are put in place for people in similar circumstance as the victim, even people completely unrelated to the issue. When a friend heard her plane for her flight was supposed to be Airbus, she rescheduled, because of the plane that dropped to the Atlantic Ocean.*

Maybe I’m weird, maybe I’m naive, maybe I’m lots of things, but whenever people do these things, I think “too late!” the bad thing already happened, you’re safety measured won’t help anymore. The way I see it, these kinds of bad things are largely individual cases. The fact that the planes were flown into the WTC doesn’t mean another one will be hijacked tomorrow, so you’re perfectly okay to fly to your conference.

That’s not to say we should check the safety measures that are in place. And I do believe everything should be done to minimize the risk. But when something bad happens because of one or more lunatics, your precautions are in vane and too late. It’s not a recurring phenomena. It’s a one-off thing! So what’s the point?

DD wants to put me under closer protection. Like, ‘personal protection’. Because of recent events. I don’t see the point in that. I’m perfectly safe. The shit hit the fan, didn’t hit me, and now it’s over. So why bother anymore?

 

* Okay, maybe that example doesn’t belong there, as there has been some trouble with the Airbus planes. But are there anymore than usual (apart from the crash)? Or are they just making headlines because of the one that crashed?

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