BEDA: Look At This Fool, All Blogging Again

• If you have to eat one thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?

Although I love lasagna, a lot, I would have to go with pizza. There's so much variety in it! It is also very tasty. Would be harder to get sick of it and you could also make healthier versions of it if need be.

• Would you rather be deaf or blind? 

I think I would rather be deaf. I rely on my vision a lot, despite the fact that it's nowhere near perfect. It's also rather essential for visual art, which is something I've always done. Since I can remember. I might take breaks from it that last for several months, I may often even despise my art and art capabilities, but I always go back to it. It's like a compulsion. Becoming blind would probably cause me more trauma, a la depression and frustration. And if we're talking from birth then...hmm, probably still gonna go with deaf.

• How are you? 

Meh.

I guess I'll also respond to my own questions. Barring the one I already answered:

• How many pillows do you sleep with and do you have a specific order you pile them in? What is your system?

I have 4 pillows, one of them is technically 3 pillows but they've gone all flat so I combine them and shove them into one pillow case. Honestly, I would like more pillows. Even if I probably wouldn't use them that much. I just really like them, and they tend to go too flat as the time goes on so I feel like I'm always in need for some new ones. I could actually use one more pillow right now. I already do have one tiny extra one, a decorative pillow, but it's waiting to be washed. So what I really need is to get that 5th pillow clean.

I always pile my pillows in a specific way. The larger softer ones are at the bottom, two next to each other, then the medium pillow that works as a bridge between them, and then there's one thin pillow on top that I can really mold into a good form for my face (or alternatively I can use it to cover my eyes or ears if need be). I usually want my face slightly propped up from any pillows and such, since I don't wanna feel the warmth of my breathing, so a floppy pillow that's easy to mold is good for that.

• Do you dream in first person view or in third person view or do your dreams not involve you at all most of the time? Does your dream self look like you?

I always seem to dream in third person view and I never look like me. Once I looked like Tom Selleck! I had a fabulous stache! I was also a cop. 

I've been curious about the statistics on the "viewing modes" people have in their dreams. I've also been pondering on whether how you see yourself in your dreams could be in some cases connected to the body image issues a person may have, or perhaps a reflection on how accustomed to consuming TV shows, movies, games and other media a person is, since in those media you are often the outside viewer, relating to a character (though first person view is pretty common in games. But there are many other factors to consider here, from game time to the immersivity of the game). Maybe both. Maybe neither! I'd totally check out a research article on this. Even seeing mere statistics on how many see themselves in first person view vs third person view vs not at all would be neat.

• If all the chocolate Easter animals came to life, craving human flesh, how would you handle that? (I know you just thought about eating them all. I know. But would you eat a chocolate bunny that's been eating people? WOULD YOU? Or would you maybe figure out something else. Would that something else work? I have provided only poorly defined monsters! You must go on without me!)

I am with Millie on this one: Melting. I would melt them. ( I would not eat them though. I can't imagine chocolate mixed with human flesh and blood tastes that great. And I just don't love chocolate enough. xD ) 

A friend of mine theorized that what if these creatures become more like actual living creatures as they feast and that's why they crave human flesh in the first place. Like a messed up Pinocchio scenario. Therefore after a certain point you wouldn't be able to melt them. But that doesn't make sense, you know, like chocolate animals coming to life obviously does, so I'm just gonna side with the melting option here. (Also, even if they became more fleshy as they eat we could just set up some serious heaters near the place they spawn from, if we knew the location. You know, get them while they're weak!)

And even more questions for bloggers!

- What are your plans for the summer?

- What do you have on your walls? Any plans for switching it up?

- What would you love to buy online right now?

- Tell us about a neighbor/roommate you dislike(d), what did they do?

Beda #?: Mia is Out of Ideas, Thanks Universe for People's Questions

• Where are you right now?

Back at home, under my blanket, pretending the world isn't a thing and my butt isn't feeling oddly cold.

• What are you doing? Are you working? Are you studying?

I'm pretending I am but a blanket roll, a creature of the bed. I live in bed, all I know is bed. What is study? What is job?

• How is work?

I don't have one of those things. Also, blanket roll.

• WHAT IS WORK?

LEAVE ME ALONE I AM BUT A SIMPLE BLANKET ROLL

• ARE WE ADULTS YET?

CRIES

• And tell me what you're obsessed with at the moment.

- CSI: Cyber and how bad it is. I swear, if we do a podcast episode, that is what I will talk about. I am determined.

- Dragon Age. No, I am still not over Inquisition feelings, I am going through it for a second time, and I am almost through Dragon Age 2 now as well. I have my characters and by gum I have my headcanons!

- Characters by my friend and I and the related dumb art we make.

• Any big plans for the next few months?

Absolutely none unless you count constant anxiety, then I have so many plans you guys!

• What makes you feel nostalgic?

Horses, dinosaurs, cartoons, the smell of sculpey, 80s-90s music...many things! 

But let's talk about 90s music because I've been going through these humongous Spotify playlists for what songs were popular in Finland in the 90s. This because I was making an ultimate playlist for a character of mine and I more or less arbitrarily decided that, though there would be 80s music on it, her playlist would be predominantly gross 90s music. 

The thing is, though I remember the melodies of many 90s songs upon hearing them, I can't actually remember their names, rather lone who performed them...or how the lyrics go. So that is why I had to go through those humongous playlists to find any songs I recognized by actually listening to them. It took me a really long time to pick through them, even when ignoring a fair share of them.  I think I spent most of the day on this stupid thing! And let me tell you, there were songs that were so 90s that they made me want to physically gag a little. 

Also, surprisingly many songs about penises. You're welcome.

• What are you reading?

I haven't actually been reading much at all for the past month. I guess I've been taking a break. Before that I was mostly trying to read through Fortune's Pawn by Rachel Bach. Well, until I went through the Song of Ice and Fire series in audiobook form. Now that I think about it, that may have been the thing that got me to take a break. Eh hheh heh. 

I've been thinking about listening to The Disaster Artist by Tom Bissell and Greg Sestero , in which Sestero, who played Johnny, tells about the creation process of everyone's favorite horrible movie, The Room. A while back I was linked to an excerpt of it on youtube (you're welcome, again). Honestly, it sounds pretty amazing. The narrator (Sestero himself) imitates Wiseau so well it's like he's actually there.

After I listened to that excerpt, I had to tell my friend about this book - he loves how awful the movie is and by letting him know of this book's existence, it was like I'd handed him the holy grail of The Room trash talk. I didn't originally end up listening to the book, but today my friend recounted some of the things he found out about the movie-making process through it and, yeah, I think I need to listen to it. It sounds like one heck of a fun book for people who enjoy following a train wreck with amusing narration.

• Apples or Oranges?

Apples. Although I do like OJ. 

Speaking of juice! I want to tell you that I am considering purchasing a blender. We've never owned a blender because we simply haven't needed one, but for a year or so now both mom and I have been wanting one and the other day we were wistfully sighing about how during the summer we could make smoothies. Oh imagine! A hot summer day and putting in some berries, watermelon, juice and, most importantly, ice, and making a refreshing slushy goodness.

My questions for the next blogger:

- What appliance purchases have you been considering?

- How many pillows do you sleep with and do you have a specific order you pile them in? What is your system?

- Do you dream in first person view or in third person view or do your dreams not involve you at all most of the time? Does your dream self look like you?

- If all the chocolate Easter animals came to life, craving human flesh, how would you handle that? (I know you just thought about eating them all. I know. But would you eat a chocolate bunny that's been eating people? WOULD YOU? Or would you maybe figure out something else. Would that something else work? I have provided only poorly defined monsters! You must go on without me!)

CDSM: More random rambles

The popcorn button
A while ago I was informed that there are microwave ovens with a popcorn button in them (There are also buttons for pizza and the like). I cannot believe there is a button just for popcorn! On the actual oven! This assumes that all popcorn is done in the time frame and settings determined by that single button assigned to it! Actually, with popcorn I might just believe it but with pizza? No. The last I checked, the food industry doesn’t compare and contrast and calibrate their damn food like that. So why waste the time and energy to actually create a button for such? What’s wrong with just the timer and the heat settings? And maybe a button for de-frosting. But a popcorn button? C’mon. Really?

The name Tigernach (Irish)
It doesn’t mean tiger night and it’s pronounced teer-nee. I am disappointed.

Corgis
I feel like they are over-glorified on the intormenets. They are like the new llamas. Just corgis. Everywhere. They got old about as fast as llamas, too. I wonder how much the corgi-breeding business has benefited from this internet craze.  No, wait, no I don’t.

A friend suggested I also discuss spoons in this blog entry, but I don’t feel like I have informed enough an opinion on such a controversial issue as spoons.

CDSM #11: Beautiful Animation - GIFPALOOZA!

We all likely grew up watching animated movies and shows, it’s like an entrance to visual entertainment, right after picture books. It is therefore not much of a stretch to make the claim that animation affects us a great deal. So, today I’m going to talk about beautiful animation, with the help of some gifs I painstakingly made.

Balto (1995), Amblimation

Balto is a movie about sled dogs fetching a serum to cure diphtheria, focusing on the story of a half-wolf half-dog named Balto, who doesn’t seem to fit in anywhere. The movie is (fairly loosely) based on a true story of the diphtheria epidemic in the 1925 Nome, Alaska.

Many of us probably saw this when we were young. I certainly remember loving the movie, I even have it on a VHS. I rewatched it to make gifs and while it still has great moments, scenes and other aspects, some of it, I find, falls flat. Especially the attempted comedy to lighten the story. But I won’t go into that more, it's not my focus. Why I’m writing about this movie is that it had some great animation and background, as well as character design. The scene I made a gif of is from one of the beautiful scenes - Balto struggles up from a pile of snow after falling down a gorge. After this, he remains huddled up in the cold and sees the white wolf, Aniu. Just look at that smooth animation and the light effects. Gorgeous.

Since I am essentially celebrating the work of artists who worked on this film, I tried to find the sites of the animators, which can be quite a difficult thing to do. Many simply do not even have online galleries and this seemed to be the case with a lot of the artists working on Balto, despite the fact that many are working in the industry even today. For example, Kristof Serrand (lead animator of the character Boris) also worked on How To Train Your Dragon. Andy Schmidt (lead character, Steele, additional animator) seems to currently work on Disney/Pixar and he has worked on Rescuers Down Under, Beauty And The Beast, Up, and Brave, among other things. All I could find of him was his LinkedIn profile. Since I am falling ill currently, I do not have the energy to quite search the whole animation team, but here are the sites I was able to find from Balto team:

Steven Albert - background artist http://www.steven-d-albert-art.com/
Stephen Hanson - background artist http://www.stephenhanson.co.uk/

The movie was worked on by Amblimation studios, an animation studio founded by Steven Spielberg (closed down in 1997). The studio also worked on An American Tail: Fievel Goes West. I recommend never watching the awful sequels made for this movie.

Rescuers Down Under (1990), Disney

A Disney movie about a young boy, who, in an attempt to save a rare golden eagle, Marahute, gets captured by a poacher. Two mice, Bernard and Bianca, are sent to his rescue. This movie has several beautiful scenes, which for traditional 2-D animation are absolutely amazing, yet people tend to forget about this film when they consider Disney movies. Especially the scenes featuring Marahute are great to look at.

One of the most notable animators and character designers working on this film was Glen Keane. I would have to say that he alone is responsible for what I thought for a long time eagles should look like, especially in art. Hell, I still carry that influence, his work on Marahute was simply that beautiful to me, even when I was little. His animation is consistently great and his work can be seen in Beauty And The Beast, Tarzan, Little Mermaid, and Tangled, among other things. While he doesn’t have his own portfolio site or an official blog, I recommend searching his name and looking at his work. Here is an excellent blog displaying his work http://theartofglenkeane.blogspot.com. He recently retired from Disney.

How To Train Your Dragon (2010), DreamWorks

A movie about an awkward but inventive young buy, Hiccup, who cannot seem to fit in with the rest of the Vikings. Despite his clumsiness, he manages to down a dragon who no one has even managed to see before. Instead of killing the beast, he befriends it, naming it Toothless, and learning more about dragons than anyone else in the process.

This is just a great film. The final battle scene alone is a gorgeous work of art, but another striking thing about the animation are the flying scenes. If I could see the 3D effect, this would be the one movie I would like to see in 3D. The wind affects the dragons’ wings in a such a realistic manner that you can practically feel it yourself. The skin on the wings quivers and bulges from the strength of the wind. In the scene where Hiccup manages to pull up Toothless just in time, avoiding crashing into trees at a dizzying speed, you can see how the wings really cut the air. The variety of animation on fire in this movie is also great to look at. Some of the fire is almost lava-like, while some works like an explosion.

To see the work artists and the production crew did, I recommend watching this video, The Making of  How To Train Your Dragon: http://youtu.be/vDsFQIWVfEQ This is one of the best making-of videos I have seen on a film.

You can see more How To Train Your Dragon production/ concept art in the How To Train Your Dragon tag of the animation tidbits Tumblr blog: http://animationtidbits.tumblr.com/tagged/how-to-train-your-dragon

Nico Marlet - character design http://artofnicomarlet.tumblr.com/ (unofficial)
Alessandro Carloni - head of story, animation department http://alecarloni.blogspot.com
or http://www.cgsociety.org/index.php/CGSFeatures/CGSFeatureSpecial/alessandro_carloni 
Simon Otto - head of character animation http://simonotto.com/
Mark Williams - animator http://www.markwilliamsart.net/index.html

Legend of the Guardians: The Owls of Ga’Hoole (2010), Warner Bros (Village Roadshow Pictures, Animal Logic studios)

A young owl, Soren and his brother are kidnapped by owls referring to themselves as The Pure Ones, who are building themselves an army that could take over all the owl kingdoms. Soren’s only hope is to find the legendary Guardians, who he isn’t even certain exist.

Thos movie is pretty much full of absolutely gorgeous scenes and animation, yet very few seem to have seen this movie and no one has talked about it in years. It is a severely underappreciated movie, yet I sort of understand why. When I saw the first trailers for this movie, I laughed. It displayed owls in helmets and it looked ridiculous. But the trailer also showed one of the movie’s most striking scenes, where Soren flies through a vortex of air in a storm, which lead me to want to see the movie. It is gorgeous and dramatic, and after seeing the movie, the owls in helmets idea didn’t seem so silly. They managed to make them convincing. The story itself, though perhaps predictable, reminds me of stories the likes of The Snow Queen by Hans Christian Andersen. More people definitely should watch this movie, if not for the story, then for the beautiful animation and cinematography.

Tohru Patrick Awa - character design http://www.patrickawa.net/
Felicity Coonan - art director http://felicityc.blogspot.com
Cecile Dubois-Herry - character artist http://cduboisherry.blogspot.com
Vivienne To - concept artist http://www.vivienneto.com/

If you want to find more of the artists’ pages (of any of the animated movies you‘ve seen), I recommend checking out the full crew lists on IMDB and proceeding to google. You might get lucky and find some of the artists who have contributed to your favorite movies.

May The 4th Be With You

...yes I took the time to edit these gifs just to do this.

Mia Tales & Rambles

Here are some random things!

But you just told me it's gross! Why would you even...?
You've all been there, or will be there. Someone tasting someone disgusting and then going "Taste it, it's gross!" to you.

I know, you want to share the experience, have someone truly know what you mean when you say the word gross, to know at least approximately know what kind of an ordeal you just went through. It's a wonderful sentiment, really: you just experienced something amazing, sure it was amazingly gross but amazing nonetheless, and you want to share this experience with a friend. But I think I can deal with not experiencing this one amazingly gross thing with you. Okay, who am I kidding, I'm gonna taste it and if there's another friend around, I'm gonna tell them to taste it too. Because it's gross.

Hostel invasion
In 2008, I visited Italy with our school group. At one point, we stayed in a hostel, in Rome. All the girls shared one room, which was thankfully meant for 20 people. Upon arriving, we found few random items in the room - someone's glasses, a towel, a hairbrush... - but we didn't think much of it. The previous guests probably blissfully forgot them, or didn't care for them. We took them out of the room and carried on with our lives.

Then the night came and we settled into our moderately comfortable beds. Most of us were at least half asleep when suddenly our room door flung open and a group of people we did not know barged in, promptly starting to dig through just about everything in the room. I opened my eyes and all I saw was a strange young woman digging through the area where my bags were. Needless to say, I was pretty alarmed. Some other people in the room started yelling at the strangers, cursing at them, people were quickly awake and angry, ready to attack the invaders. I looked at the young woman confused, she spoke to me anxiously in Italian and I utilized the only bit of Italian I can utter out in confidence: "No parlo italiano" at which point she switched to English. While the ruckus continued in the background, I find out that these people were the previous inhabitants and that they were looking for the stuff we had carelessly thrown out. I calmly told her to ask for them at the reception. The rest of the crowd were practically fighting at this point but the situation quickly calmed down when I told the young woman that we had removed their stuff from the room. One of my class mates even apologized for another classmate who had, in a mix of panic and rage, cussed out one of the "invaders" pretty good.

That hostel really should get its act together. Those people still had their room keys and everything!

There was gonna be a third thing here but I couldn't think of anything
Håhåhåhåhåhå

"Answer The Question!"

Han Solo, Rick Deckard or Indiana Jones?
Gonna go with Solo here. I mean, he has a space ship. He does things. In space.

If you were a llama, where would you get your hair cut?
Nowhere, I would be a llama. I just would not care. I would just eat that grass and be a llama. With my llama ways and llama feelings.

What is love? (and no… ‘baby don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me, no more’ isn’t a valid answer)
Love is….JUST A FOUR LETTER WORD! AAAHA!

(you can thank Bob Dylan for this)

What is air?
It appears to be a three letter word. This is interesting! Air is a valuable resource and should be mined for gold.

Guilty pleasures?
Of course when someone asks me, nothing comes to mind. Except for the really inappropri-- I mean, I remember nothing! Food! Tasty unhealthy foods! Soda!

If you could have any skill uploaded to your brain via plug in your neck (matrix style), what would you like to learn?
A skill? Hmm. Math. All of the math. Or the skill of being really, really good at social situations. I’d manipulate my way to the top or just half-accidentally end up there because I‘d be a likable networking master!

Jedi or Sith?
I would like to say Jedi. I mean, I like to follow the rules and all that. But then a friend and I had this conversation last night…

Me: Honestly, I would do it [referring to a time-consuming solution to the lack of course books problem] if I didn't feel like everyone else should suffer because I've suffered too. 

Me: Maybe some day I'll just drag a chair over to the course books section of the library, with popcorn in my hand, and sit there and watch the miserable people who won't be able to get a course book in time and so have to come to terms with the fact that they will either have to bump the exam or get a book for an over-night loan, meaning they'll have one night to read it.

Me: I'll just sit there and watch, watch their misery. "That's right. Now you know how it feels too. Feel that rage building inside? Give in to it. That's right. Just giiive iiiin."  

Me: ...I might be a Sith of some sort.

What color would your lightsaber be?
Blue.

If you could only listen to one record for the rest of your life, which one would you choose?
Any of the Battlestar Galactica soundtracks composed by Bear McCreary.

What alien species known from books, TV shows, games or movies would you be if you could pick one?
Right now, without thinking too much about it, I would say Turian (Mass Effect).

Bookshelf, Blog - Blog, Bookshelf

Once upon a time I moved. After that began the dark times. The era of no bookshelf. Four long years it lasted, until, finally, a brave warrior, traveling to the north, crossed the weathered border between our land and those of the kingdom to the west. From there, he acquired pieces of wood, dark as the eyes of a raven. If correctly assembled, following the guidance of the ancient Ikea, these pieces would become the legendary bookshelf of awesome.

B E H O L D !

So, yeah, I finally have a bookshelf. This also means that I can finally make a post introducing it to you. While also avoiding coming up with anything else to write about here.

(clickeh to see dem biggeh!)

Had to put my Christmas lights somewhere. So. Some books there on the left. Mostly crime novels. Comics too. DVDs on the right. With my Cylon figurine. Next to a DVD tin box featuring a Cylon.

More novels on the left. Mostly archaeology and anthropology on the right. Which is why there is also a dinosaur skeleton figurine. And Egyptian god figurines. And a box containing booze.

A close-up of these jerks.

Some DVDs and games on the left. Along with a collection box. And a Sharpie. More novels on the left, mostly classics. Also a signed Piano Guys CD.

Yeah, a close-up of this. Because I'm sensing there would be questions about that.

The rest of my stuff is somewhere else. And those green boxes I only got few days ago and I haven't quite figured out what to put in them. Knowing me, they will soon include all the stuff I pick up while I'm cleaning but don't really know where to put them right then and there.

Speaking of those boxes, I'm so proud of actually going to get them. I saw them in an ad and the next day I actually went and bought them. I bravely searched and plowed through the pile of folded boxes to get those two! No, seriously, they were folded boxed in a pile of other folded boxes and it was a pain to fish out the size I wanted. It was like no one had ever bothered to organize those things even a little. Looked like they just dumped hundreds of them onto the shelf and then maybe let a horse roll in them just to make sure nothing was even remotely organized. I also learned that a pile of folded boxes can be surprisingly heavy.

End insightful and informative blog transmission. You are welcome.

On a Train

Trains are quiet, if you are lucky enough to sit in a car that is mostly empty with people who like to mind their own business. Most of the time you can barely even feel the tracks that fly by underneath you. Their sound is heightened only when someone opens the doors leading to the space connecting the car to another. The apparent silence is almost intoxicating to me - I can feel my thoughts jumping around, but they are not stuck in what ever it is that worries me at home, it makes me feel better.

I spend a lot of time on a train when I can tear myself away from my university life and my exhaustion. It’s when I go visit my father, who lives almost across the country. I used to despise it, the traveling. Seven hours is a long time to sit still even if you have books or a paper and a pen with you. In the end, all you have is your thoughts, which tend to start lingering on the subject of your numb ass after an hour of sitting. But I like to think I have found a certain balance to this. I am writing this as I am sitting on a train, two hours into the journey. Yes, my butt is numb, but I don’t feel too dismayed about it. Maybe a bit. But I’m focusing on other things on the side.

When you go on a train across the country, you end up seeing quite a bit of Finland in one sitting. Most of what I see is familiar to me - they look like the kind of landscape I’m used to. Small towns with wooden churches that are clearly visible all the way to the train station, fields after fields, pine forests, birch trees. Then there are the old run down houses, built to the model of the houses the government once provided the nation’s soldiers, returning from war. I find that no matter where you go, you see those exact same houses, and they do have the tendency to bore me. Sometimes they even annoy me as I see their worn down facades and yards, overpowered by unkempt flora during the summer. But sometimes I see a bit of history. I wonder if they are inhabited when they seem so worn out, I wonder who takes care of them - or who neglects them. I wonder how it came to this.

During the winter, everything is covered by a thick layer of blinding white snow. Unkempt yards become hidden and the fields look more like white oceans, dotted with islands of forests. I want to go for a swim. But then my mind goes back to my numb ass and the fact that the seat table in this particular seat can’t fit all the way down without cutting into my stomach. I don't know if it's broken or if they really expect people to be so skinny and short. *Twiddles with the table* God damn table, making it harder for me to internet...

Here, have a song that has the word train in it:

Samurais Are Funny

A day in my life:

Monday.

I started my day by waking up at 8:00AM. Feeling disoriented, I managed to shut off my alarm and even open my eyes a bit in the process. It was still dark outside and having slept for only three hours, I felt too tired to go to the 10AM class, which would have been ethnography. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to lull towards sleep once more. I was interrupted by my mother, asking when my classes would start. She had planned on catching the same bus as I on her way to checking out local flea markets. I muttered I would go to university by noon to let her know I was going to skip the first class and then went back to sleep.

I woke up around 9:30AM even though my alarm was set to 10AM. I cursed the fact that I had woken up but my bladder demanded access to the bathroom. I complied. Mom was still home, preparing to leave and I asked her to let me know if the roads were slippery so I’d know whether I should bother with my winter shoes or not. She thought this was unnecessary and informed me it had been raining for hours so there wouldn't be any ice left. I disagreed on the possibility but putting on my winter shoes is always a hassle compared to my sneakers so I was hopeful enough for slush free streets to accept what she said as truth.

After I got out of the bathroom I turned on my laptop and spent my time browsing Tumblr and Our Pants until 11AM, at which point I had to get dressed. I threw on my brown suede jacket and slipped my feet into my sneakers, happily leaving the winter shoes behind. Walking down the stairs of our apartment building I ran into some men who were discussing something in a rather loud fashion, I do not remember ever seeing them before but, yet again, I don’t tend to look at people. I can only recognize one of our neighbors and I've been living in the building for four years. I walked past them and once I got outside I discovered it was raining. I let out a deep sigh, cursing the fact that I hadn't noticed this before leaving the apartment. I didn't have a rain coat or an umbrella with me and I didn't have the time to go get them either. My suede jacket would have to endure. Again.

On my way to the bus stop I found myself staring at the burned wall of an apartment building again. Few weeks ago two cars parked next to it caught fire, bad, and burned some of the paint and plaster off from the wall. I wondered how I had missed the emergency vehicles, we had heard no sirens when it had happened. I managed to stroll over to the bus stop on time. Even had to wait for a while, which wasn't so nice when the rain drumming on my shoulders constantly reminded of the fact that my suede jacket was suffering. I love this jacket. It was my mother’s, I think it’s about as old as I am, and I've used it for years.

I was at the university slightly earlier than I had expected, which I was pretty happy about. It meant I could stroll over to the lecture hall instead of acting like I was a speed walking race participant and everyone who got in my way deserved an elbow in the face. Outside the lecture hall I met with my friend (Let’s call her Pete) who provided me with the handouts from the ethnography class. He informed me that on Thursday our class would go visit the local Provincial Archives -  they hold records of government authorities and private individuals in the area. We tend to use them for research. Pete and I wandered into the class room and took our usual seats, discussing the fact that we needed to find a place to do out ethnography project. We are going to study social interaction occurring in teacher’s lounges, which means we need to go spend a day observing people in a teacher‘s lounge. We had already gotten turned down by one school and another school hadn't responded to us yet though we were starting to run out of time. We planned on emailing a third school our ethnography lecturer had suggested and I said I would email the principal of the second school too if he hadn't responded to us by the end of the day.

We then moved on to discussing other, more entertaining matters. Like the fact that “London Bridge Is Falling Down” has been stuck in my head all morning because our other friend (let’s call her Carol) started to sign it when we went to have Chinese food together on Saturday. We then wondered how late Carol would be for the class. Pete bet 5 minutes, I bet 5-10 minutes. She entered the room the second Pete made his guess. She asked why he looked so disappointed and I explained that he lost a bet on how late she would be. He cheered up visibly when he realized I lost too. Then our class began. It was a course called The Samurai - Myths And Reality In The History of Japan. This course has been fairly entertaining and it has given me many ideas for amusing short comics. When the lecturer mentioned how particular samurais were about looking good so that the enemy wouldn't mock how ugly they were if they happened to get their heads chopped off, we all chuckled. Trimming nose hairs was mentioned for comedic effect. I leaned over to Pete and whispered “why the hell is it that every time I attend these classes samurais keep getting funnier?”, he grinned and nodded as a response. I then focused on listening to the lecturer again but after a while I heard Carol quietly talk to Pete about something. When I looked over I realized what she was doing: She was busy making homoerotic fan fiction of the comic on the cover of her notebook and explaining it to Pete, who is not a fan of slash fiction. I grinned at them, happy she managed to corner him to tell him about her notebook cover theories. She had cracked me up by suddenly springing them on me at the end of another class few weeks earlier.

After the class we talked about video games and some topical news stories for a bit but then I got all antsy about making it to the next class, The Intellectual History of The United States. There are a lot of participants and it can be hard to find a seat after a certain point so I wanted to get there early. Carol rubbed in the fact that she didn't have a class to attend and that she could go home and take a nap or browse the internet. Pete fake-punched her with his backpack and when we left for the class, he told her not to have fun.

In the class room we found a fellow archaeology student (let’s call her Nina), who motioned us to sit with her: “We archaeology students need to gang up in the middle of all these history majors.” I laughed. “Yes, we must establish a territory and defend it.” We chatted about thesis matters for a moment - she had been suggested she would make hers about certain kinds of bone-carved spoons (which I would be 3D scanning, actually) - and then we talked about the class and how confusing it was. Mainly because the lecturer kept jumping from one subject to another and had the tendency to assume we were familiar with a lot of things we really weren't familiar with.  I've come to the conclusion that this course on the intellectual history of the US might just be the most difficult course I've attended in university so far. I've also concluded that Jefferson was kind of a nice guy, maybe. Okay, maybe not that nice. But sort of? And now I won’t be completely confused if some American makes the mistake of listing John Locke as one of the Founding Fathers. When the class was over Nina sighed that the spoons were starting to seem nice after that lecture.

Pete, Nina and I parted ways and I went to wait for the bus. It was still raining and I cursed my lack of umbrella again. I luckily didn't have to wait around for too long. I had planned on going down town to shop for new winter shoes, ones that I could just quickly pull on. Simple boots with no laces. Unfortunately I wasn't sure what the route of the bus I was on would be down town. I was hoping it would take me close to the super market I had planned on visiting but, of course, it didn't  Instead it turned the other way and I ended up further away from the super market than I had hoped. If only I had gotten off at an earlier stop. The rain had become heavier too and I was pretty sure it was ruining my jacket but I briskly walked on, trying to ignore the fact that it was rush hour too.

Eventually I got to the super market and I headed straight for the shoe section. The selection for standard winter boots was terrible. There were these horrible pink boots that had a metallic shine to their fabric and the boot had a collar of black fake fur (I think there may have been other colors too but I was blinded by the horrible pink). I couldn't help but to stand there for a while, wondering who the hell would wear them. I then shifted my attention to the regular boots next to them. These boots were expensive, which is usual for a valued Finnish brand. I looked around for other boots but there really weren't any of the kind that I was looking for. Except for the expensive ones in front of me. I tried a couple of pairs on and settled on boots that were only ankle-high. I had trouble with the longer ones not being able to accommodate my calves. Regardless, I was pretty happy to have finally accomplished my mission of finding new winter shoes. I then stopped by at the super market next door to the one I bought my shoes from. I was getting ridiculously hungry at this point and they had a Subway. I was surprised by how quickly the line moved, they had several sandwich artists working at the same time, I don’t think I've seen so many of them behind the same counter before. After I got my sub, I went to wait for the bus, the rain briefly turned into wet snow.

I checked my phone and saw that mom had texted me, asking me to get kibble for the cat. As I got on the bus, I weighed whether I should pretend I didn't see the message. I was tired, wet and hungry, I didn't particularly feel like going to the grocery store too, I just wanted to go home. After a while I decided that despite my annoyance, I would get the kibble and some other stuff. The store I went to is going to be closing for good soon so they are running out of products. To my dismay they were almost completely out of cat kibble. “Of course,” I thought and grabbed one of the bags that were still left. It was some fancier brand and didn't seem to be too plentiful but it would do. Then finally, around 6PM, I headed home.

At home, I took a warm shower and returned to the comfort of the Internet. I checked my email and noticed that the second school had finally replied to us about the possibility of spending the day at their teacher’s lounge. To my humongous relief, the principal said that most of the teachers had been okay with the idea so the answer is yes. I do not need to email other schools and this is now one thing less to worry about! I proceeded to do other internet things and after discussing with a fellow archaeology student, I decided to give Viking knitting a try. I will just have to find the time to go shop for supplies. I should have worked on my thesis too but by the time I got home, I was too tired.

Mia's Room

Welcome to my room. The place where I am glued to the computer screen. Feast your eyes as I just cleaned it! (Click the thumbnails for the larger images)

(click for bonus photo)

Here you can see the right side of my room, where the only properly decorated wall is located. There hang posters of Conan O’Brien support (when he was getting kicked off the Tonight Show because Jay Leno decided he didn’t want to quit after all - art by Mike Mitchell) and the first Cylon war from Battlestar Galactica. Framed with nice and cheap picture frames from Ikea.  Between the posters, among other things, is a mask I bought from Venice and in the corner is my bulletin board, where I store important and stupid crap. Like a banana plushie keychain my friend gave me as a birthday present. It looks like a penis when you peel it. My friend did her shopping at an erotica store.

Anyways, on the floor there is a jumble of wires. It is also where the internet lives. Then there are the two small TV counters that I use as shelves for books, DVDs, and other doodads, as well as for housing my scanner-printer-copying machine combo. My computer is perched on a footstool matching the chair I have. Actually, it’s perched on a cooling platform that’s on a Pink Panther comic book that’s on the footstool. Interesting, I know. If you look close enough you might even spot my pile of tissues. Oh, and on the top side of the image, where the curtain is, you can see some feathers. They are from a dream catcher I have hanging from the ceiling above my bed.

Here’s a detail shot of the contents of one of my TV counters (the other one shall remain a mystery to you, because of poor lighting). There’s a lot of fictional murder in there. Also sci-fi. Then there are the anatomy books, post-its, random military insignia, fans, a signed Piano Guys CD, and possibly the single geekiest setup in my room: A cylon figurine with a T-Rex accidentally posed to bite its hand.

The left wall of sadness. Few months ago I made a pathetic attempt at finally decorating that wall but, yeah, it’s still rather empty and miserable. There is only a printed image of a painting of mine and a collage of behind the scenes photos from Silence of The Lambs that came with the special edition DVD.

There is my fairly comfortable red chair, which I rarely actually sit on. It mainly works as an additional shelf that usually houses my bag, maybe some handouts and notebooks, and what ever I’m going to wear the next day. Right now it has my hoodie, by bag, a notebook and my warm blanket with reindeer images on it. The only reason my clothes aren’t there is that I removed them when I vacuumed it…and didn’t throw them back because frankly, I’m not ready to share my pile of clothes with you people, plus then you wouldn't have seen the chair well enough.

That thing hanging from the handle of one of the doors of the built-in closets is an USB cable. That handle is where I keep some of my wires. Yes. And within that closet there are the rest of the books I wanted to keep in my room instead of the hallway closet. As well as some random crap.

Then there is my bed. Which looks all colorful. It’s something I’ve shocked people with in the past (the bright or pastel-y colors don't generally match people's perception of me. They are right, but my secret is that I don't care about the colors of my bed sheets as much as I do about how good the fabric feels, eh heh). Also, clearly the best pillow ever: my Snufkin pillow.

The End.

(Spotted something in one of the photos? Anything related to my room you want to know more about/want me to talk about? Just ask about in the comments.)

Thoughts From Places: My Little Spot

I am a person who, these days, prefers to stay in her little room instead of randomly venturing outside, making my choice for a favorite place rather limited. I’m pretty sure my actual favorite place is my bed, but while I could write an ode for it, I don’t think…yeah no. So instead, you are getting what is likely my second favorite place. Or third. Or fourth. I don’t usually rate them.

In Helsinki there is a large blindingly white building, raised on a podium of grey, stony steps, looming over the Senate Square. It is The Helsinki Cathedral, designed by Carl Ludwig Engel, completed towards the end of 1800‘s. And on its steps, there is a spot I always choose to sit on, just off to the side, on the other side of the railing, out of people’s way, where I can look down upon the Senate Square without being disturbed by others.

It is a high place where the cooling wind caresses me no matter how hot the weather seems to be. There I could sit through the whole day, enjoying beautiful architecture, and watching tourists and the birds that are all too comfortable with humans by now. Actually, I’ve done that; I’ve spent a day there a couple of times, silently looking at things and drawing. And earning some sunburns since there is no shadowy shelter where I choose to sit. But I find it entertaining and calming to watch the people from the safety of my little spot.

the cathedral as shot from my spot

I can’t help but to be curious about tourists. A lot of them are elderly. What ever the age and nationality, I like watching them as they climb up the steep stairs, huffing as they go, maybe giving me a glance and a quick smile, as if to say, “Man, this climb“ when they grab the railing by me and use their arm to help them up. Then, on the top, they turn victoriously to marvel at the view over the statue of Czar Alexander II of Russia, and the old buildings surrounding the square. They take their photographs, maybe sit a spell, then, eventually, they have to climb down. Something I see all of them slightly dread doing as they realize how high they are and how steep the way down is. But when they are finally standing on the street again, there is another, perhaps more wistful, victorious glance up at the steps. Usually there are more photos too. This is a ritual most seem to do there. Surely it could work as a metaphor for life itself, but I don’t think I will go there.

Then there are the people who want to sit on the steps for longer than few minutes and pick their place in a knowing manner. They the spot, they open their books, dig their lunches out of their bags, or enjoy the sun, pointing their noses slightly upward, seeking the heat. Often these people are Finnish, perhaps students of the university located nearby. I can’t help but to wish I was studying at that university, just to be able to venture over to the steps to read more often than a couple of times a year. Yet again, maybe I would grow bored of doing that, you can become numb to almost everything after all.

As I now think about observing these people, I am reminded of a time when I was younger. I used to imagine what it would be like to be someone else, to a point where I vividly imagined what that someone was seeing at that moment. Then I would wonder what really made me me. And as my 9-year-old brain tried to grasp this, I started to feel like nothing chained me to my body anymore, and I’d move my foot, just to make sure, I was still me. With the twitch of a foot, I was back. Though I don’t feel like I’m gently floating away anymore, the tendency to wonder what it would be like to be someone else never quite went away. When I look at those tourists, and those people who carefully pick their place on the steps of the Helsinki Cathedral, I wonder what it would be like to be them. And sometimes, I find people, who make me wish I was them. Yet often I just silently sit there, at my spot, drawing, and hope that someone notices.

"I love being in cities with lots of other people because I’m reminded that there are billions of people like me and we are each stuck inside of our minds feverishly trying to crawl out to make connections with other people." - John Green

But What Would My Character Do?

And now it is time for me to post about my favorite activity, well one of them. I have to say I was a bit torn on this matter, I wasn’t sure what to go with. I already posted an entry about drawing in the form of a very unhelpful work in progress explanation, so, I don’t think I’m going to talk about that again. Then there’s my absolute favorite activity, watching TV shows and videos online while chatting to a friend. I don’t think that would make a decent blog entry. So, I think I’m going to talk about play-by-post or post-by-post role-playing.

Now, an explanation for those who do not know: Post-by-post role-playing is sort of like acting in the form of collaborative story-writing. You have your character(s) and you post from their view point while people you are playing with do the same from the view point of their respective characters. This form of RPG can be done on almost anything from e-mail or instant messaging to forums. I don’t think I will go any deeper than that in my explanation because things vary depending on your preferences and where you role-play and so on. Here’s an example of an RP, I’m quoting an actual game I have going on, and the quote is from the middle of a thread so it might be a bit confusing to follow, but you get the basic idea of that role-playing might look like.

• Player 1: Kylie Velasquez

Relief flooded her system as she saw the ambulance. She listened to Gaines talk, then said, calmly, "You two can go, the rest of us will follow." As soon as Caine was on the gurney and in the ambulance, though, Kylie whipped around, facing the way they'd just come. Her hand found her sidearm and drew it slowly as she stalked back to the soldiers. Both hands were on it as she pointed it to the ground, moving closer. 

She raised her weapon slowly toward the soldiers, still walking. She was not about to let them get away with this shit.

• Me: Nancy Lawson

Nancy had been backing up away from the crowd, following the group treating Caine, while remaining several steps behind to keep an eye on the crowd and the soldiers. When the shots were fired, she felt one of the bullets fly past her leg, nailing a man's calf. He tipped over like a cow. She, however, kept her gun pointed at the ground and didn't look away from the soldiers, it was better for everyone that at least she knew what they were doing. Luckily, most of them seemed to be completely oblivious to Nancy's presence and no one was pointing a gun back at her. 

When she heard the rustle of steps from behind her, she turned, only to see Velasquez sneak towards the crowd with her gun pointed at the soldiers. Her eyes widened slightly and she immediately considered her two options: Disappear into the chaos for safety now, or talk. Usually Nancy was the one doing the stupid things, but even she had her limits, and in this particular company, her limit came up faster than usual. She edged next to Velasquez. "Don't tell me you're about to do something stupid." Her voice was lowered to avert attention from others.

• Player 1: Kylie Velasquez

"They're shooting at civillians, Lawson," she hissed, slowing a bit. Lawson was making her think, now. Damn it. Even if they were shooting at civilians, it didn't seem like the were aiming directly at them. And what was one cop going to do against ll these soldiers? 

Show them that not everon was just going to bend over and take it from them, that's what.
She continued on, but didn't leave Lawson in the dust. In other words, she was willing to hear the woman out if she wanted to reason with her.

• Player 2: Faina Song / Victor Cage

Faina was thrown into a horrible bout of indecision as soon as the colony founder was in the ambulance with two seemingly capable people accompanying him. She was going to be left to do something else now, but she had no orders. She could go back and join the Allies in breaking up the scene that had been threatening to turn into a riot, but she could also leave. She could resume her patrol or return to the ARF for new orders. 

What time was it? She looked to a thin watch around her wrist. Her patrol was almost over anyway . . . 

Vic recognized her uncertainty as soon as the ambulance doors closed and the Happy Medical Bunch seemed to prepare to take off at the speed of light. So, he approached her, getting close to her so he wouldn't have to be loud as he said, "Get out of here. You were told to escort the group transporting Marcus Caine. Once that was done, you didn't have orders, weren't aware of the expectations in dealing with this mess, didn't want to make the situation worse by unknowingly going against the orders given to the group tasked with handling it."
Faina looked up at him blankly. 

"You don't wanna be here," were his final words before he turned to look for Kylie, only to find her being a complete idiot. 

Yet again he found himself calling after her: "Velasquez!" and hurrying to catch up with her and Nancy.


As soon as he was close enough, he grabbed his partner's shoulder and tried to pull her back enough to stop her. "Unless you wanna get killed or tossed in jail, you're gonna want to be heading the other way now. You too, Lawson," he added, tossing a look at the other woman. "And if you're looking to get killed or jailed, I'm gonna have to be annoying, pretend I've got superiority because of the equipment between my legs, then toss you over my shoulder and take you away . . . or just drag you. I'm feeling a little sore after carrying Mr. Caine."

• Me: Nancy Lawson

"Sure they are. But don't you--" Nancy began but was interrupted by none other than Victor. Which was good, she was not particularly skilled at this whole convincing responsible statement thing. Although she had a killer 'this is how you survive' speech.


As Victor threatened them with the powers of his equipment, Nancy turned to him, lowering her gun completely. "I hope to god you meant your partner here and not me. I was being a good girl for once." She blinked at him. "And my legs, not that tired."

• Player 1: Kylie Velasquez

She'd been set and ready to argue with whatever rationale Nancy had to throw at her.
And then Victor showed up. Fuck him. 

Kylie groaned, turned to the man and got in his face, finger pointing at his nose accusingly, ready to tell him off. "You--" She just seemed to look angry about everything, and then made a frustrated noise and whipped her hand back down to her side. "--are significantly uglier when you're right." She shoved her gun into its holster and stormed off, pushing past Cage to head away from the trouble. 

Victor Fucking Cage. Since when was he even right and reasonable?
Damn it.

• Me: Nancy Lawson

After Kylie stormed away, Nancy placed her gun into her holster and gave Victor a long estimating look, narrowing her eyes. "...Nah. Still handsome."

• Player 2: Victor Cage

Vic had nothing to say to Kylie. It wasn't like he was going to argue with her, especially since she was doing what he wanted her to do. He didn't need to argue his merits as a potential mate, and hell-- it wasn't like he was one to take insults very seriously.

Of course Nancy got his attention with that look she gave him. Her words prompted a small frown and a shrug. "That's what I thought," he responded before raising a brow at her then putting on a nonchalant face. "Let's get out of here."

It was time to let this mess be whatever it would be-- to survive to fight another day.

So, yeah. I mainly role-play on forums, it‘s where I started playing and I‘ve found it to be best suited for me - it allows me to have as much time as I want to write my reply, there is no risk of hitting a character limit, and I don't have to be online for my fellow players to be able to write their responses. Forums also provide a nice, clean looking format, which makes it easy and enjoyable to read a thread.

I have maintained several RP forums, I’ve been a moderator on several (including an RP resource site) and I’ve been a member on many, many more. Right now I’m a member on three RP forums (one of which I also help maintain) and they are enough to keep me busy, especially when I have several characters on two of them. At its best, RPing is fun, exciting and addictive, and you might find yourself surrounded by a wonderful community. It's a great creative outlet for me (especially since writing a single story alone feels difficult for me) and, can't lie, it's also a nice form of escapism. Hell, I think I owe a great deal to role-playing, it improved my English significantly, and thus it allowed me to do better at my studies and at my matriculation examination.

All right, I think that's about it. (If you have any questions about play-by-post role-playing etc, do ask!)

Thoughts From Places - Not Particularly Deep

My university campus, the main campus I should say, since I will blissfully ignore the separate and humongous teaching hospital. Anyways, my campus is mainly just the building - the estate is not much to look at as it’s filled with little streets ideal for biking. The building itself is like a small village within the city I was born in, a village with several restaurants, cafes, and if you venture far enough, you might even find a random store that sells back bags and computer sleeves. The campus, or the building, is a strange mixture of old and newer that they never tried to fluently match together, and its length reaches at least 1 kilometer as I understand. (No wonder the non-academic university staff darts around on scooters, huh?)

When you look at a large part of the main building, you’d think you were looking at a factory. To many, that’s the first thing they see - a box-like building that looks like a place merely full of loud machines and the smell of glues and paints, from above it looks like a micro chip. The exterior is painted in several gaudy, saturated primary colors like green, blue and yellow that make you wonder…why? Then you step inside. And there you face more of those saturated primary colors, painted on thick concrete walls. Most of the signs guiding you to departments and various class rooms are bright yellow and of metal. After seeing pictures of it, a friend of mine told me that it looked like an air port. It sort of does, but a more popular comparison among its pupils is a Soviet factory from the 70s. Funny enough, students have nicknamed that part of the campus Siberia, because it’s cold (I disagree with this). Yes, people scoff at how the building looks. But I have to be honest, I fell in love with it the first time I laid my eyes onto it. I have no real idea why, I am not a fan of primary colors used in…anything. But something about this I liked. This place that we call the old part of the campus has a certain charm to it, maybe it’s the uniquely ugly that made me attracted to it.






Then there is the new part of the campus. When you walk across the factory-like hallways and lobbies, you will come to a hallway, surrounded by glass and support beams, across that you will enter the part of the campus that might just be a polar opposite to “Siberia”. Instead of strong colors and heavy looking doors, everything is white and steel grey. There are large windows to allow light and all the signs are plain steel.

I could draw a deep meaning out of this, sure. Here, see me do it.

The building is divided in two by a glass hallway, much like the university politics seems to be, much like anything in life seems to be. On the old side there are the engineer students, the physicists, the mathematicians, the chemists and what-nots, you know, the useful and hence better-funded fields. While the humanities, the useless, reside (You should know that I use useless and useful terms with a tone of bitterness here). In an ideal world, departments work together, experts from a variety of fields come together to revolutionize the world. In the real world, people look at each other from their own buildings, across a feeble glass hallway, wondering what could have been at best, often forgetting the other side is even there. In the real world these people struggle for funding and the ones that do not come on top complain, and the ones that do get annoyed over the complaining. You know, how almost all fights work.

So, that was one way. Let’s see about another. A friend described it to look like an airport. It would be a suitable metaphor, wouldn’t it? For a university to look like an airport. Much like airports, universities are a stepping stone on our way to somewhere else. Uh, yeah, that’s about it. How about the factory metaphor? Universities trying to churn out professionals fast for the unemployment office, worrying more about getting us out of their hands than about the quality of education we really received and how well equipped we are for the job market. Let’s leave that metaphor at that. This is starting to sound like an astoundingly bitter post.

Ultimately, this strange building houses thousands of extraordinary, and less extraordinary people. People with their own lives, hopes, dreams and problems. Some cry themselves to sleep, some can’t wait for the next day. It’s a fascinating thing to wonder about if you manage to conjure up the energy to look further than yourself and your friends, which I often fail at. Because let’s be honest, even now I’m just writing all this for the sake of Thoughts From Places and I haven’t particularly thought of this stuff before, not really. Well, except for wondering what the designer of the old part of the building was thinking. Now that is actually interesting. Was he inspired by a Soviet factory theme or what on earth?

And sometimes you just find...strange things going on in the building.