He's electric...

Himself is playing at the Electric Picnic, on all the three nights. Tonight is night two.

I'm working all weekend, selling litres and litres of vodka to the happy people in their wellies.

I still get most of the festival athmosphere, though:

*I see drunk people,
*I stay up most of the night, wake up at funny times when my man finally gets home (so my sleeping patterns get fecked up, which usually happens at festivals)
* I'm surrounded by mud (which Himself brings in in his boots, although thankfully I don't have to walk knee-deep in it)
* I'm so tired in the mornings I feel hungover (without the drinking part, so it comes cheap as well!)
* I eat food only slightly less dodgy than your usual festival-meals (couldn't be bothered cooking for one, and don't really have the time either what with all the thirsty people)

So as you can see, you can get all the benefits of the festivals without even going...
(says Laura, as she eats a slice of cold pizza)

Patter of little paws

I've been babysitting two quite hairy babies since Tuesday. Himself's parents are away, and our help was needed with the dogs. Today is the last day, and I don't want to leave the dogs!

The newer addition to the family just landed on their doorstep one day over two years ago and stayed. We all believe he must've been treated badly in his previous home. Poor fella is scared of lights, noises and isn't too fond of strangers either. For some reason he liked me straight away, and we've been great buddies ever since.

I started teaching him all the tricks in Finnish a little while ago, and he already knows that istu means "sit", maahan means "down" and he also shakes my hand when I say either Hei! (Hi!) or tassu (paw). I was talking to my dad and laughed, that the dog is the only person who understands me. In all fairness though, I sometimes use little bits of bread or other treats when teaching the dog, and Himself gets nothing (except for praise) when he learns a new word... So I can't really blame him.

Maybe I'll make some lasagne for the next teaching sesson.
Have to go and have breakfast. And talk to the doggies.
(Also have to pay the rent, try to get hold of the estate agent, sign the new contract and do another ten or so washes... But don't want to think about it. :) )

Superstating

Have you seen P.S. I love you? I (unfortunately) have.
I loved the book, read it in two languages, about 50 times and cried a little bit every time.
We went to the cinema (a good while ago now) and Himself packed his pockets full of tissues (for me, not him).
In we went and--- NOT ONE TEAR!
Instead I felt cheated; The movie didn't have much to do with the book. The location had been changed, the characters were as deep as a puddle on the pavement and your man couldn't do an Irish accent (and him being Scottish and all...)
The thing I found really funny, though, was the way they showed Ireland as countryside, green hills and not a town in sight. I was actually expecting a leprechaun to pop up and do a jig.
Anyway. There was a pub in the movie called Whelan's. And of course the moviemakers decided to relocate it to the sticks.
The pub is alive and well, but is actually in the middle of Dublin. Which is a city. So no sheep grazing outside the main entrance or old men in wellies sipping their pints of Guinness.

Ok, this does have a point.
Saturday was my first time in Whelan's.
I usually try to stay out of Dublin, as the place stresses me out and makes me extremely grumpy. And I wasn't supposed to go this time either, nope. I was planning to stay comfily in my hometown, and go see The Aftermath singlelaunch. I even had my nice invite and everything. But it wasn't meant to be.
So I gave my ticket to my bosses kids and off we went, me and the other Laura.

This was the support band, Hogan. Absolutely brilliant band, great energy and Mark is turning into one of my favourite frontmen in the country. He reminds me an awful lot of Dave of the Dave's radio fame. Hmmm... Anyway, extra points from the drummer, who is just something else. (Himself hates his hat, but agrees on the skills department)

And here's Superstate again. The engagement of the bassplayer was the main topic of conversations that night.

And here's Himself, who was the guitar tech on the night, sang backing vocals and played keyboards on a few songs. What can't he do?

It was sooooo good to get home on Sunday and have a proper cup of tea. It might be a good while until I try hanging out in the capital again....

Music WAGging

Myself and The Other Laura went to see our boys play on Thursday.
The venue was a small pub this time, so it was all nice and intimate.

I love this pic of the two of them;
You can see the hint of laughter in her face.

And this is Himself,
playing bass for a change.
Awwww...

Happiness is...swings and cherrytrees

Yesterday turned out to be lovely. I talked to my Dad and got to let out some steam, which was needed.

Himself got home, we had dinner and then got a phone call from JC who asked us to go look for their bassplayer, whose phone had died. So off we went and searched half of the pubs in town. It was the boys themselves who finally located the missing man. It was a good excuse to walk around town and enjoy the sunshine, nevertheless.

We had 99s (I won a small battle against the evil old woman in the shop and got her to put sprinkles on mine. Heehee...) and went to the swings in the park.
Caught the last rays with a pint, sitting outside the hotel.

When it cooled down, we went for a long walk and talked absolute shite for the full hour. I love our little walks, when no-one sees us and we can be as silly as we want to be. Oh, and yesterday was also the second time Himself gave me flowers! He gave me a little cherryblossom when we passed this amazing tree in full bloom. I love wild flowers, not big into shopbought ones, so that really melted my heart. He is a sweetheart, isn't he? :)

So yeah, all's well, and will quite possibly be even better after we eat. We were looking at cameras earlier today, and will probably go and buy one. So hopefully I'll be able to take pics again soon!!! Yippee!!! :)

Tonight we're going to have a movie date with The Big Man and his better half. They're going to Australia soon, and The BM hasn't seen Wolf Creek yet. And surely you can't go to Oz without seeing that and being absolutely terrified? It'll be fun. :)

"One planning permission for our future, please!"

This is the last week of lectures for the better half. And it makes me think what is going to happen next.

Are we going to go back to the days when he had no structure to his days and planning anything was a nightmare? Is it going to be calls about gigs in the middle of a dinner? Struggling to pay the rent?

OR

Is he going to put his tribute band idea into action and start practising? Get a job and start working towards the things we've been talking about?

I've been asking him, and he doesn't seem to be ready to answer yet. So I'll just leave him be and wait and see. In any case, I'd rather see him doing random jobs he wants to do, than working in a supermarket and hating every day of it.

He probably thinks I'm silly. I can't help it, I kinda want to plan the bigger things even just a little bit in advance. And I can't plan if he doesn't, so...

Enough of this! I'll put on some tunes and start cooking.

Soup with shooting stars (and targets)

The reason I haven't been writing in the last little while, is my re-warmed affair, which has finally gotten out of hand. Completely.

I can't stop thinking about my new old love, and find myself wanting to spend every moment of the day with them. I can't concentrate at work, find it hard to fall asleep and walk around with a goofy grin on my face. I think it's love.

Himself is getting sick of listening to me, even though he is nice enough to pretend he doesn't mind. And in a way he's happy because I'm happy again. And at this stage I should probably say, that I'm not getting hot and heavy with some fella I found last weekend. (Himself is a patient man, but not quite that understanding!)
I'm talking about the oldest love of my life: Cooking and baking.

I'm buying new cookbooks, re-reading old ones and changing old recipes to suit my mood. I usually have at least one recipebook with me at work, and I keep making menus for the weeks to come. Yesterday I started baking as soon as I got up. And was a few minutes late from work, because I had to wait for the last buns to come out. Handily enough, I could bribe my boss with homebaked apple pie. :)

I'm trying to balance it out by reading Ann Rule's crime files. It's not working that well, really.
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On Friday we went to see a new local band, who released their first single. Luckily I didn't have to pay for the ticket, as they were fairly average. And we're betting they're probably going to be huge and sell at least gold.
(My theory is, that to become a hit you have to either
a) Make up a name no-one understands/is able to pronounce
or
b) walk around in your underwear/as little clothing as possible
The band mentioned have both things sorted; Definitely hit material!)
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Himself was shooting on Saturday and came second in the competition! Their team won! I'm always so proud when he does well in those things. I told him there's no coming home without medals of some sort, and he brought back two.
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I better go and finish making the soup (leek & chickpea, Jamie Oliver's recipe)
Yep, I think I have a new addiction....

The "High on chocolate" -post...

Ok, I have to confess and get it out of the way: I smoked on Sunday. It was a stupid thing to do, after a week without any. I'm quite disappointed in myself. :(
But I'm back to being good and learnt something from it.
---------------

We had our Easter egg hunt yesterday. All that was left in the shops was a bag of tiny Kinder Bueno ones, so that's what I got. Himself very patiently hid nine of them all over the flat; on top of lights, into my make-up basket, into trinket boxes and into the jar of pens. Meanwhile I was laying on the sofa, under the blanket with my eyes and ears covered so that I wouldn't get any clues.
Himself followed me during the search and laughed at me most of the time. Can't blame him, I'd say it was some sight; Me climbing on top of things, jumping up and down to check the tops of the doorframes and lifting and moving every single thing on the tables and windowsills.
I found all of them. Just ate the last two with my tea a while ago.
I think that will turn into a tradition. And next year I'll try to remember to buy the eggs on time.
----------------

We've been watching 80s movies lately. A friend of ours was shocked because I hadn't been educated in the area of 80s films and brought over a huge pile of them. Yesterday we watched Ferris Bueller's day off and Money Pit. And there's still a few to go... And yes, I have to watch them all. Knowing this particular person, there's going to be a pop quiz when we return the DVDs. :)

Laala's urban sports (part one) and other stories.

Even the pub next door settled down before me last night, and I wasn't even drinking...

Himself was sitting in on bass with the lads, doing some benefit gig he had forgotten about. He got a call right after I went to work, asking if he was ok for the night. Talk about organized; he had forgotten to put it in his calendar.

So he dropped in and made sure I had my keys and off he went. They left so early we thought it would be an early gig, but I got a text saying they'd be on at 12. Yippee...
I got home after half ten, dropped my bag on the floor and tried to switch on the lights. To find the bulb was still gone. So I sat in the semi-darkness for a few hours with my laptop. Until I finally got so bored, that I decided to risk my wellbeing by walking through the dodgiest neighbourhood in town at 2 in the morning just to get a bottle of Seven-Up from a 24-hour-garage. Every girl needs a hobby, and that's as close to extreme sports I'll ever get.

Got home, sat in the semi-darkness again for a while. Thankfully I had a book to keep me company. (Isabel Wolff's Rescuing Rose)
At half three I got a bit worried and called the better half. He said they'd be leaving soon.
And they got home a bit before five this morning.
I got the full story, with crazy organizers, drunken bikers and the gardai (the cops) arriving to tell the pub to close (way after the closing time, of course). Sounds like their evening was a tad more eventful than mine. All I saw during my walk was a few drunks heading home and young love outside the nightclubs. Oh well...
---------
Himself had a driving lesson again this morning. Mandolin man stayed over, and brought his band's newest album with him. We had a listen to it while Himself was learning the rules of the road. It's always nice to hear new music, and I can't wait for the album to actually come out. I think everyone could do with a bit of Proper order... :)
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It's tea time in our household again. Good night!

Dream competitions and slowly starting Saturdays

I must say this is one of the nicer mornings.
We slept for ten hours, woke up refreshed and for once it wasn't raining outside.
When we get the chance to wake up at the same time, we usually exchange dreams. I was preggers in my dream (I have those dreams quite often), so Himself wins the Strangest Dream category. He dreamt that Mark Chapman was after him and his family.

I enjoyed Himself's guitar playing with my morning tea. Then he lost his audience to the world of Blogger and started reading a book about Beatles' gear, while listening to... The Beatles. I wonder if that does any good to the Chapman -dreams?

There's some gigs going in a newly re-opened pub in town. I was way too tired go out yesterday, but thankfully it looks like the lads are getting more work in there. I'll be a good girlfriend the next time...
I read this book called The WAG's diary by Alison Kervin a while ago, and it actually popped into my head last night as I was waiting for my better half to come home. I think someone should write a guidebook to the girlfriends of musicians as well...

Anyway, I better go and get some veggies for the curry.
Can't wait for my day off on Tuesday!

Party's over

And I can finally tell you what the present was.

I gave Himself three envelopes. The ugly, big, brown ones.
The first one said " Happy birthday! Buy yourself something nice and fashionable with this. You're gonna need your fashion sense..." Inside was a giftcard for Penneys. The look on his face; the poor man thought that was it. He composed himself and thanked me very kindly.
Then I asked him, if I should give him the rest of the gift as well, or should we just leave it until later.

He wanted his present, so I handed over envelope number 2. It said something like:
"Does 'Orio al Serio' mean anything to you? No?
How about 'Bergamo'? Not really?
It's ok. That's why I got these from a bit closer to the good old 'Il Duomo'!
In one of the most beautiful cities in... (to be continued...)
Did you guess already?"
This one held the booking papers for a hostel.

Envelope no. 3 said:
"...ITALY!"
"We're going to ________ on the _th of may.
(Can't reveal this kind of info on the envelope)
Oh, and I suppose you're going to need these as well..."
As you probably guessed, these were the plane tickets to Milan.
MILAN! :)

I knew Himself had wanted to go to Italy for ages. He's telling everyone and whispering "Milan..." to himself, so I think he liked the surprise.
A few mates called in yesterday. I made a cake, which went down well. Then we went out and had a good night.
I'm tired. Working in half an hour. Aargh.

"I think you're up to something"

That's what Himself said to me today, when I very innocently inquired if he's going to college tomorrow. And, of course, he is right. I am indeed up to something.

It's his birthday on Thursday. And I came up with an idea a while ago, but didn't have time to do anything about it in the past few weeks. So I've been running around the town today, spent numerous hours in the internet and made a few calls. And I'm not even finished yet.

He hates surprise birthday parties, so I decided to be nice and not organize one. Nothing was said about other types of surprises though, so...
I've developed a little dance I do every time his big day is mentioned. And if that's not enough to drive him nuts, my evil laugh will probably do the trick.

I think I'd better stop writing, or I'll ruin the surprise. I'm gonna put my feet up, put the laptop on my belly (to cure the tummy-freeze I got from eating a large 99 in about 30 seconds) and do some serious blog-reading.

Happy as a Hedgehog

I just wanted to introduce you to my old friend, The Nameless Hedgehog. He has been living amongst my mother's flowers for a good few years now, but never felt the need to get into first name-terms with me. He doesn't cause fuss, which is why some people don't even notice him. There was something in his happy little face that made me snap the picture a few years ago, and now I'm happy I did.

His smile pretty much sums up how I feel now: content and happy.
We went to the doctor's yesterday, and turns out everything is fine. The relief in Himself's face was the best gift I've gotten since... forever. He said it felt like he had been away and just arrived back home. And it definitely felt that way for me as well. It's so nice to have my silly, sweet man back.

This whole thing had some good points as well. Himself realised for the first time in his life, that he doesn't always have to be "the strong one". And that talking about things can do you good. We spent time together without any distractions, just talking and being close to each other. Which made me fall even more into love with him.

He had time to read the poems I wrote. And he said he never really knew how I felt about him before. Now he does. We both learnt new things about each other, and a lot about ourselves as well. I know now, that I can't really talk about my feelings well, but I can express them in writing. And I'm thankful I have a man who doesn't think I'm strange because of that. (That's the good thing about singer-songwriters/other musicians/artistic types, they're weird enough to think you're normal when most people would go "Ooooo-key..." :D)

Also met Junior and his Better Half yesterday. It was the first time I've seen her in a few months, and let's just say there's no need to try and keep the pregnancy news secret any longer! She's looking absolutely gorgeous, and they are both very excited and happy.

So it's easy to understand my friend The Hedgehog's feelings. How could you not smile, when you're surrounded by such beauty?

We are the champions... :)

Ireland won the six nations rugby championship yesterday!
We went into a pub to watch the second half of the game. They were playing against Wales and the atmosphere was absolutely brilliant. The table next to us was full of Welsh people (they were easily spotted, being the only people shouting and roaring when the Welsh team scored). After the game I said to Himself that I should start supporting the Welsh, because even I could learn the names of the players (Half of them were called Jones, other half were Williamses).

We won at the end, with only few points difference. Himself took the night off and we met up with some friends.
I'll probably see a good few sore heads at work today. Even my boss was hugging and pulling random people up for a dance last night. And I can guess what the topic of the conversations with my customers will be...
--------------------------
I had four ciggies yesterday. Bold me. I'll promise to be good again today.

Must be March madness

I'm back and can now think more clearly.

I have been depressed for about eight years now, having had better and worse patches along the way. To accompany my depression I had an eating disorder and was self-harming. I've been in a hospital because of it and gone through hours and hours of therapy when I returned back into "normal life". I tried different medication, which I ditched because I wanted to feel and didn't want to arrange my life around the pills. I have learnt to cope with myself better with time, but every now and again I hit a low. I cry, do whatever I have to do and get back up again.

This time it wasn't rest or reflection that got me up. It was Himself having a terrible nightmare, which he kept to himself and it started to follow him into the daytime as well. He finally told me what was eating him and I tried my best to help him out of it. He had his first panic attack a few days ago and I brought him out for a walk at five in the morning to clear his head.

He looks at me in amazement and tells me I'm the strongest person he has ever known.
I personally don't think it's a matter of strenght. It's just that I can understand how he feels, it's a familiar situation for me and I'm able to keep my head clear.
Yeah, I really am strange. More at home with all things crazy than normal, everyday life... :D
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I had my (hopefully) last cigarette yesterday and today is the first day of nicotine patches!
Wish me luck! :) (I give me max three days...)

Got that Friday feeling...

I'm starting to get into the usual Friday mode now.

Yesterday was a girly night (with Angel Girl, who else...) and some wine was consumed (needless to say). Himself picked me up from AG's house after the night's gig and made me some tea before bed. And the next thing I heard was your man delivering our new washing machine at ten o'clock this morning. I showed sympathy by opening my left eye for a second and rolled over when I saw Himself had everything under control. Got up after noon and went to get breakfast stuff and an apple turnover for Himself for all his hard work.

Had a relaxing "morning" watching Police Academy 3. Junior called in on his way home from recording some radio show.
Himself and I played some Oasis and Mundy. (That's the way Himself teaches me guitar, he figured out a way to keep me focused)
Went for a walk with AG and we all had pizzas afterwards. Oh well, the walk worked as therapy more than in the usual purpose, but who cares?

The picture is from few months ago, but suits my current mood so well I had to put it up.
I should be getting ready as we speak... We're going for a few quiet ones with mates.
Bring on the pints!

Finally some me-time

Progress report from last post: Himself and I are friends again.
I don't do mad for long periods at a time. We talked (which is to say I talked and he listened like a good man he is) and after letting out some steam I was fine again. Kind of. And that's good enough.

The reason I have some time for myself is that Himself is gigging tonight.
I got home after ten and was too tired to go anywhere, so I sat on the sofa with a book, some chocolate and the good old laptop.
It's been nice just to relax and let the thoughts run circles in my head, without saying a word to anyone. I've had time to listen to all my favourite songs, read without interruptions and even dance a bit on the way to the cupboard (to get more chocolate).

My brain is not in gear at all, so I'll just continue my pyjama party for one until Himself gets home. Working again tomorrow, off Monday. Can't wait.

*Now playing: Scissor Sisters - Laura*

Dreams, tears and language barriers

Last night I dreamt I was home. In Finland, that is.

That was the first time I had such a dream without it being a nightmare. The last time I dreamt about Finland was year and a half ago, and in that dream I couldn't remember how to speak Finnish and no-one understood me. That was just before our last trip there.
This time I woke up confused and quite upset to find myself in my own bedroom, instead of being surrounded by snow and familiar places of my dream.

I know what brought it on. I really miss my dad, my hometown and my relatives. But what makes being away worse this time, is that my friend just got some exciting news. We've gone through a lot together and have always been there for each other. We could talk about everything and only lived half an hour away from each other, so when we felt like it, we could very easily meet up. The distance hasn't affected our relationship, but I miss meeting up and chatting face to face. And I'd love to be there for her, especially now.

The other reason for my dream just happened yesterday.
The day was normal enough; came home, went for a walk, got into bed.
Started our bedtime chat and that's when I said a word wrong. Just a slip, a past tense gone wrong, which happens to me every now and again when I get tired or try to explain something really fast.
Himself noticed that and started slagging me about it. I tried to laugh, but he took it too far and I ended up crying.
I'm not sensitive, I don't mind a bit of slagging and am usually the first person to laugh at myself. However, I don't appreciate native speakers of any language laughing at people who try to make an effort and speak their language. Himself has seen me cry because of people's ignorance so many times, that he really should know where to draw the line.

So today I'm missing home and the simplicity of speaking my own language. And wondering if by giving people in your life the means to hurt you, you also give them the right to do so, or at least risk it. Or should you be able to hand the weapons to the ones you love without a fear of getting hurt?

Today will be a better day. :)

Nightlife

My bodyclock has gone crazy altogether. It's past two, and I'm not even planning to go to bed. I just finished writing a list of suitable festivals in Finland (with the dates and contact details) for Angel Girl's other half. I sent my friend a book suggestion and read some lists. Himself is watching The Beatles documentary on the sofa next to me. So basically, if anyone was to walk in now, they would think it must be around seven o'clock in the evening.

I seem to get so much more done late at night. I finish reading books, remember to write things I'm supposed to write. And my brain seems to work so much better. We're re-organizing the apartment at the moment, and do all the brainstroming after midnight. And somehow everything works like magic when we execute the plans the next day.

Today we got the bedroom done. Most of the kitchen got sorted yesterday. I'm yet to decide what's in the program for tomorrow...

All there is left for tonight though, is a little walk in the quiet town and a nice cuppa before bedtime. Expect tiredness in the morning!

Emptiness in a shoebox

On Saturday we were offered a three-bedroom house. The rent would've been less than what we're paying at the moment. I got excited when I thought of all the space, the washing machine and the oven that would actually work. In my mind I was already planting carrots into the garden and baking cakes.

Himself on the other hand wasn't too happy about the idea. He said the main reason was the area and him being worried about his gear. We listed the pros and cons, my only con being the fact that he didn't feel good about it.

Later he told me that he would feel bad leaving his first proper home. That obviously changed everything. I have never felt sad leaving an apartment or a house, because nowhere has ever felt like home. I was always delighted to pack my stuff and go, or just leave my things behind if I needed to. I even lived out of a suitcase of stuff for six months at some stage. But I can still understand how important it is to have a feeling of "home", and I just couldn't take that away from someone. So I told we couldn't take the house.

I know I did the right thing, but I'm still walking around on autopilot. I keep looking at the piles of stuff everywhere and feel like crying. But not to worry; I promise to pull myself together soon! Even though I'm not going to get more space, I can create myself a starry sky with some glow in the dark stars.

There's always a compromise...