My favourite pastime

… is this blog. I could spend entire days reading it. So freakin’ awesome. Not only because the danish bloggers like Jay-Z and gorgeous naked people as much as I do.

I’m much deeper than that.

Random sample:

Big news*

Do you know why the big in The Notorious B.I.G. is written as an acronym? Is it an acronym? And for what?

That was not really what I was going to write about. I have big news.

I’m not going home in January. I’m staying in Australia for a few months. It’s so freakin’ scary and so freakin’ exciting.

It was my friend Ai’s idea. I talked about how much I like it here and how I don’t want to go home. I laughed when he said I should stay. I thought it was an impossible idea. The more I thought about it the less impossible it seemed.

Since I couldn’t work last summer and cannot work next summer (because I’m spending it in Namibia), taking a semester off my studies and working in Melbourne seems not only a good idea because I get to stay here, but also because I need the money. Yes, I have to actually go through the bureaucracy to take a semester off. I have to get a new visa. I have to figure out how to squeeze three semesters worth of studies into two.I’ll have to find a new apartment. Oh, and I need to find a job.

I’m positive I’ll figure it out, though.

Even though I’m scared, it feels like the right decision. Ask me again in February, after I’ve said goodbuy to my family and all my friends here (okay maybe not all, but many). That said, I think I’ll be all right then as well.

Already a few months ago I was dreading having to go home. It felt, and feels, like I’ve been here a few weeks rather than months. I miss my friends and family, but I don’t really miss Finland that much. As you know, I miss Helsinki a bit.

Oh, and I really miss salty liquorice (the Finnish kind, with ammonium chloride). I’ve already asked my mom to bring some when we go to Bali together in January.

*Ok, for many this is not news. Many might not consider this big either (more like expected).

The mother of invention

My room is squeaky clean. This usually means I have an assignment to do. It’s the perfect distraction – it’s a distraction, it’s useful and it gives instant gratification.

To avoid doing what I should be doing, I’ve also used an hour or so watching RSA animate clips on Youtube. They’re great. There’s even one by Žižek. I think part of why I like them is described very well here.

Creativity and resistance

A part of me would like to write a long love letter to my class in creativity. It’s what I would like life to be like.

Today we talked about Hume, Nietzsche, Slavoj Žižek and Lars von Trier.

I should be writing about music policies right now, but would like to be watching this instead.

Where we’re going, we don’t need roads.

I might be spending next summer in Windhoek, Namibia.

I applied to this three month exchange just figuring it doesn’t hurt to apply, never thinking I would get it. The people at my uni must have been insane.

I have no idea how I’ll afford it, but it seems like missing this opportunity would be a very stupid thing to do.

Spending my summer in Namibia would also mean that I do not have to go through the agony of applying to summer jobs. However, if I have to, I’m going to write applications like this.

Veni, vidi, vici

Two years ago, we got in third place. Last year, second place.

This was supposed to be our year.

Then our team decided to go to Sweden, Denmark and Australia on exchange.

I’m talking about probably the only student tradition at home that I really really like: my student organisation StudOrg’s Horrorjakt (Horror hunt in English). It is a horror-themed competition where teams have to complete different tasks at different checkpoints at (a usually rainy) Suomenlinna in Helsinki. As it is a student thing, copious amounts of alcohol is involved.

It’s on in October and it’s the only thing I regret not being able to go to while I’m on exchange. As I mentioned, one of our team members is in Sweden, one in Denmark and two (including me) in Australia.

Next year, we’ll crush all the competition. We will win. Veni, vidi, vici.

ps. Iida, Joanna, Julle, Julle (och Nina, även om jag förstår att det inte är lika viktigt för dig): jag skojar inte. Nästa år deltar vi och förintar hela Horrorjakten. Vi blir laget man skriver urbana legender om. Och hör sen om ni inte är i landet.

Films I want to see, part 36

Anton Corbijn

I want to see The American for two reasons.

One is this review by Caroline Hainer. It’s the funniest thing I’ve read in a while (it starts with “It may not be the film’s idea, but The American makes me very keen on traveling down to Italy and buy sex.”).

The other is that it is by Anton Corbijn who’s last film made me very very angry for a week. I liked that. Not many films can do that. Judging from the review, this film can make me as mad, if not more.

Also, if nothing else, the film is probably beautifully filmed. And a Finnish actor is in it.

Realists

On the topic of diligent, overachieving girls, Swedish journalist Julia Skott wrote an exellent post a few years ago about it regarding relationships (her blog is awesome overall, btw):

“It’s this thing about good girls. We are a bit hard to deal with. We like to get things our way. We are trying and demanding, we often work too much, have many interests and friends and things that take up our time. We like to have time for ourselves, read both crap and heavy theorists in the bath, have trilogy and tv-season marathons and lose three hours on the internet.

We are cynical, and even though we might give spray dates and blind dates a half ironic chance we stop soon enough. Because we know our probability theory. We know there are too few guys (or girls) we think are smart and funny enough, too few who appreciate people like us, and that the two groups don’t overlap often enough for there to be a big enough selection. […]

They say love comes when you least expect it. And what do I know, it’s possible that love stands and knocks on my door, that it bangs on the door and walks away while I’m watching The Wire and don’t hear it.”

Or, I should say, about a month ago this was very much what I thought. Owing to certain circumstances I don’t feel quite the same way anymore.

Duktig flicka

Got my first assignment back a few weeks ago.

When I saw my mark it was like I was split into two different people. One took it calmly and thought the mark was all right. The other went through denial, anger, bargaining, depression and finally acceptance.

Actually, she might still not have accepted it. See, this person does better. Harder, better, faster, stronger.

This person has always gotten top marks in school. This person hands in her assignments on time and studies for her exams. This person is friendly, obliging, humble, hard-working and ready to help. In primary school, this person got to sit between loud, rowdy people (read: boys) and act as a buffer. Because that’s what good people (read: girls) are for.

I’ve tried to destroy her many times, the person that feels pressure to do well because that is what is expected of her. I do not know who she thinks expects this, because it certainly is not her family.

In Swedish this person is called a duktig flicka. I haven’t figured out a good translation of the word duktig. I guess it is something in the lines of good, diligent, overachieving.

I’ve gotten over most of it and become more realistic about how well I have to perform. It is still there, though, the pressure to do well academically, socially, professionally. To be fitter, happier, more productive.

It’s not all about pressure, of course. There is another side to it. I want to do well because that leads to good things. I’m glad I studied hard and got into a good university, for instance.

I’m not so glad that so many people hate the good girls that do well. I notice this especially in journalism. I have one teacher at my home university who more or less told me that good girls do not make good journalists. My mission is to prove him wrong. Good girls are talented, smart and dedicated.

Because on some level being a good girl has become a dirty word. Everywhere people keep repeating that it’s okay not to be overachieving all the time. It’s not good that so many feel pressure to perform well in everything constantly. But I am diligent, hard-working, ambitious. Damn right I am.