I see bubbly coctails and giggly chicks

Tonight is Miss Pearl's hens night. The invitation mentions cheese and bickies on her balcony, followed by dinner, cocktails and dancing.

Cheese and bickies? Excuse me?

I mean, this is Miss Pearl we're talking about. What the fuck happened to donkey shows? Or at least pointing and laughing at cheap and dodgy strippers?

Bunnies, if my sanity ever fails me for long enough to end up in a situation where I'd be planning to tie the knot with some poor bastard, I'd be fucken expecting at least a hobo death match, doing lines off a donkey's stomach (strippers are so last year), a threesome with Diggnation and waking up on another continent with no recollection of leaving the country in the first place.

Fuck cheese and bickies.

Well, at least the dress code is 'frock, high heels and big hair' which provides me with the perfect opportunity to take my new heels out for the first time...

Naisista suomeksi Rosan toimesta

Oi, Rosa kirjoittaa kengista/naiseudesta:

'Ne ovat juuri sellaiset, kuin korkokengät parhaimmillaan ovat: liian pienet, liian korkeat.

Alkuillasta kengät saattavat olla hieman kivuliaat, mutta kaikeksi onneksi jaloista hiljalleen häviää tunto.'

On nautinnollista löytää uudet kengät ja ilahtua siitä, että jotain näin puhdasmuotoista on joku keksinyt ja tehnyt: että juuri tämä väri, juuri tämä muoto, juuri tämä materiaali. On nautinnollista katsoa niitä ja olla tietoinen muiden katseesta. On nautinnollista tietää osaavansa kävellä niillä kauniisti.

Kenkien lisäksi pidän kosmetiikasta. ... Minusta naiseus kuitenkin asuu purkissa. Ei se ainakaan asu tiskirätissä, imurissa, huonossa palkassa ja vaipoissa.

On helppoa olla nainen, jos voi pitää käsiään kohotettuna ja sanoa, ettei voi laittaa pyykkejä narulle, koska kynsilakan pitää saada kuivua.'

- Rosa

Analog blogging

I think I've discovered analog blogging.

There is this wall at work. My boss came up with the idea that we need inspirational wall space where everyone can put up what ever they find interesting.

Well, the first few pictures appeared sticky taped on the wall and it looked horrid. So I had to print a few nice images to perty it up. Then a few more. And just a few more.

Suddenly the wall began looking kinda cool and organic. And now I'm unable to stop adding to it.

My morning blogroll is something over a hundred feeds, and it leads me running into quite a few interesting images daily. Now, instead of blogging them on lbts, I'm printing them out and sticking them on the wall in the office. I've nearly filled it too. Soon begins layering.

I find it quite therapeutic to be honest. And inspiring.

Who would have thought that it really could work as a source of inspiration?

Wanker warning?

Ok bunnies, help me out here. I just can't get my head around this shit.

Why is it, that if you buy a very nice sporty car, you need to choose the ugliest fucking colour available that just screams out loud: 'TINY PRICK'?

If you buy a fucken Lamborghini, why does it have to be bright canary yellow? And just then, I saw a bloody neon orange Audi TT drive by my place. I mean, WTF?!? Audi TT is a beautiful car... why the fuck would you go and ruin it with a colour like that?

Could it be that the demographic buying these cars just happen to be the infamous dickless wonders out there?

Maybe the bright colours are a wanker warning to be interpreted as: 'Warning: Lacking cock and style'. I suppose it sorta make sense - like venomous snakes/bugs/fish are often really brightly coloured in nature to warn anyone to go too near.

At least its a clear 'stay the fuck away' sign for me.

Such a good girl!

It was such a beautiful sunny day outside that waking up sans hangover inspired me to go for a run.

Instead of running the usual 5k lap that I've been doing in the mornings (tho not for the past couple of months - bad girl!) I thought I'd run to the Opera House.

Its a really nice lap and I used to do it all the time early last year. Its a bit longer trip than what I've been running lately, but I figured that additional 3k wouldn't be that bad, right?

Well, of course I was being an idiot and forgot the fact that we've moved 2ks further away from he Opera House. Which therefore contributed an additional 4k extension on the trip.

See 12k is quite the different story than 5k. I definitely felt the difference and thought a few times that I was either going to die or at least hurl my guts out.

Had to walk a bit after every hill or a flight of stairs so Nike+ only showed a little under 11k as the trip length. But I survived it. Now I really should be stretching big time.

Maybe I'll try to do that more often from now on... It should be a little bit easier next time. Right?

The Queen of Scrabble

I was supposed to have a laid back day at home doing girly shit and reading a book. Of course that wasn't going to happen.

All it took was a txt from Miss K to lure me back on my bad ways. So off I was, with a bottle of rather lovely Sav Blanc heading over to Miss K's BBQ that was to be held at Rose Terrace.

Its such a luxury to have the majority of my friends living in the surrounding neighborhoods. I hate public transport and much prefer walking everywhere. When I'm not being chauffeured by my wonderful man that is.

We ended up spending the day sitting outdoors, sipping wine and playing Scrabble and Pictionary. Miss K and I were paired up for Pictionary which was very enjoyable as we were perfectly tuned into each other's wavelength. I think the others were getting suspicious that we were somehow cheating, but it was all just pure and simple arse kicking wicked witty female power. Yeah.

But I have to say I preferred Scrabble to Pictionary. I can't even begin to tell you bunnies, how great it feels to totally kick native speaking arses time after time in Scrabble. At the end of the night I was declared the Queen of Scrabble.

I'd rather be a princess tho. Can I?

Lapland heritage

I just received this anecdote via email from my auntie. I thought it was somewhat enlightening to what having a Lapland background means...

An old man from Lapland was forced to go and see a dental surgeon in Helsinki. The doctor examined him only to realise that the state of the poor man's teeth was not good and said:

- 'Unfortunately what you have is a very serious case of dental rot and it is impossible for me to use anesthetic in this case. How well are you able to deal with pain?'

The old man gave this a good thought and replied:

- 'Oh yeah, I've been hurt before. At least twice in fact! First time was when I went to the bush to take a dumb and had one of those darn bear traps slam shut on my balls... and the second time after I started off running and ran out of chain...'

Australia Day

Now how did that happen again?

I only went to the city to do a quick errand run for more hair products, yet I found myself sitting on the steps of the Opera House at midnight... must have hit a time warp somewhere along the way.

I thought it would be nice to catch up with Buttman and his lovely missus before they return back to the cold northern wonderland. They were sitting at the 'bat park' - which I assume meant the Royal Botanical Gardens - and we agreed to 'catch up over coffee'.

I always thought that Buttman's missus was somewhat timid, but she was the first one to suggest scrapping caffeine for alcohol and demanded vodka shots. I stand corrected: she is awesome.

So there we went, at lunch time, squeezing ourselves into one of the pubs at The Rocks - might have been called Über Bar? - and lined up for a round of shots. And drinks. And more shots. And more drinks. And it was great.

Buttman's missus wanted to taste something new, so I started chatting up the bartender asking if he could recommend something very Australian for her. He gave me a somewhat annoyed look and said - with a very strong German accent I might add - 'You're at a Bavarian Pub. I don't think so.' Heh.

We giggled at the patriotic Aussies singing all their national anthems from the real one to Waltzing Mathilda and Land Down Under and stumble around drunk as all hell.

After the noise in the pub got unbearable, we continued onwards to Opera Bar and sat there watching the sun go down and fireworks go off while suckling on a yet another glass of white.

Had a great night, even tho it felt a bit rough getting up this morning.

'I'm going to prove the impossible really exists'

Not only one, but the goddess ticked off most of my favourites!

She was the perfect little quirky Scandinavian pixie and I need to have her babies. An evil army of weird tiny little Björklings, thank you.

The gig was truly amazing and worthy of its incredible settings - certainly one of those once in a lifetime experiences.

The stage had been set opposite the Opera House, so that the audience sat on the steps facing her, and she could enjoy her own laser light show lighting up the edifice of the Sydney Opera House.

The gig highlights for me were the enchantingly beautiful Unravel, incredible Bachelorette, super powerful Army of me and of course the fireworks encore Declare Independence.

The encore was actually quite funny. The audience was going absolutely apeshit to get her back on stage, and was totally losing the plot when she finally did.

Then she goes 'This song is dedicated to Australia's indigenous people...' and then starts bellowing 'DECLARE INDEPENDENCE! DON'T LET THEM DO THAT TO YOU!'

...which of course in this case meant referring to 99% of the audience as 'them'. The applause died - par a few who were just too off their tits to even notice - and you could just see everyone going 'Hang on... WTF?'

But after a while they got over it and went on enjoying what proved out to be the most energetic and powerful song of the whole gig. Gave me a good giggle tho.

This gig has to divide the first place with last year's NIN Year Zero gig in Sydney.

I wonder if the little Björklings would go well with the mini-Trents I need to have as well?

• Oompah, death metal and that voice: perfect - smh
• Icelandic space pixie alights on butterfly wings - smh

Looks like Mr. Brokeback did a Marilyn

Heath Ledger found dead naked in bed and surrounded by sleeping pills. What a shame really. I kinda liked him and was looking forward to meeting his version of Joker.

This whaling business

I reckon all these hippies and greenies and gawd knows what are taking the wrong approach to this whaling business.

Instead of bombing the whaling ships with random greenies, I reckon the rest of the world should just start harpooning Japanese tourist buses.

That'd get their attention don't you think? Raise awarness? For sure. Be entertaining? You can bet your saucy lil arse on it!

Where are the Chasers when you need them???

Icelandic goddess down under

Please, please, please, PLEASE let it be sunny tomorrow!

The day when I finally see Björk on stage is about to arrive and if there is one thing I'm hoping, its for the weather to be good.

Ever since I was 15 I have worshiped the ground she walks on and waited for the day when I shall finally see her perform live. From her albums, the latest is not my favourite, but it doesn't change the fact that she's truly divine.

Her lyrics are amazing and so close to this little Scandinavian heart of mine. Amongst my favourite lines would have to be:

'I tried to organise freedom
how Scandinavian of me!'

from Hunter

'I'm a tree that grows hearts
One for each that you take
You're the intruder's hand
I'm the branch that you break'

from Bachelorette

'He slides inside
Half awake half asleep
We faint back
Into sleephood
When I wake up
The second time in his arms : gorgeousness!
He's still inside me!'

from Cocoon

'While you are away
My heart comes undone
Slowly unravels
In a ball of yarn
The devil collects it
With a grin
Our love
In a ball of yarn
He'll never return it
So when you come back
We'll have to make new love'

from Unravel

'His wicked sense of humour
suggests exciting sex'

from Venus as a Boy

'You know - that I adore you
You know - that I love you
So don't make me say it
It would burst the bubble
Break the charm'

from Come to me

Now if I hear even one of the above tomorrow I'll be ecstatic.

--update:

For you non-Sydneysider bunnies: what I'm ranting on about is, of course, the gig Bjork is doing at the steps of the Opera House for the Sydney Festival.

Warning: highly superficial whinge ahead

It never fails to amaze me how fucken difficult it seems to be to come up with a good quality nail polish. I mean, its not fucken brain surgery is it?

I've been through every bloody brand out there, from professional to cheap shit, and all I ever seem to find is new disappointments.

If you find a good selection of colours, you can be sure that the consistency makes application impossible, and you'll end up looking like you paid an orphan missing both hands and a right foot to perform your manicure.

Then again if you find something that's relatively painless to use, you can be sure that it'll chip off by evening tea.

And if ever you are lucky enough to find something that looks decent enough at least in candle light and doesn't cause you to have kittens during application, you'll find it dried unusable before the next time you open the bottle.

Yes. Bad nail polishes are the nail rot of the beauty industry, and an eternal source of anguish to a slinky heel addict such as myself.

In fact, I - and I consider myself somewhat of a professional here with my three years of formal training in the field of beauty combined with countless years of being an intolerably vain cunt - have only found three nail polishes worth my time so far.

Ready for it ladies? Here comes:

To create those perfect porn red toenails to top off the seamed black fishnet veiled legs, the only option is

Revlon:
680 Revlon Red
The definition of the Real Classic Vamp Red[tm].
Easy to apply evenly, dries quickly and lasts well even on toenails.



For - and I quote Deviant here for the definition - 'the perfect pussy pink' toenails go for

Max Factor Nailfinity:
830 Dusky Rose
A new addition to my favourites. Dries almost instantly, super easy to apply and lasts incredibly well. On my first bottle tho, so can't say how well it keeps in use.



And last but not least the perfect everyday coat for a neat manicure is

Maybelline Wet Shine:
30 I-Scream Ivory
Thanks to Miss Pearl for pointing me to this little bottle of perfection. Painless to use, and just one coat looks so very natural yet classy. The only downside is it'll thicken up by the time you reach half empty.

There. I don't want to count how many fucken dollars I've spent to come up with that short list, but fuck me I'm sticking with it!

--

Note to self: After finding a product that works and managing to apply it in a decent manner, don't fucken type a blog post whilst waiting for your nails to dry. The keyboard will always, ALWAYS fuck up at least a nail or two. Never learn do you? Fucken daft old cow.

Yet another Monday morning

Grah. Feel like shit.

There are mornings when I am certain that time itself is against me. A cunning enemy who's working solely to wipe me out of existence, one Monday at a time.

I mean come on! Somebody needs to at least add an extra four hour time block between Monday 12:00am and 6:00am. No?

How about two hours? I'll settle for two hours and a soy latte? ...still no?

*sigh*

Cunts. The lot of em.

A column I stumbled on whilst going through today's blogroll...

'Hedonism 101 - men, be tactful, consider placement'

Funniest shit I've read all day!

Luscious new Zoe Wittner heels

Well, we left the house to do grocery shopping. Three hours later I get home with these:

These Zoe Wittner heels define hot black stiletto heels. The shape is nothing short of perfect and somehow they make legs looks super long even beyond the aid of the sky high heels.

It was love at first sight. Thank gawd Deviant agreed and later on confessed that if I had tried to walk out of the store without the shoes, he would have bought them for me.

Damn it. Next time I have to test walking out first and then if nothing happens go back to buy the heels...

All cultural and shit with Sydney Festival

Bunnies, it has been a good week.

Work's been hectic in a positive manner. I've had shitloads to do, but I've been able to concentrate on what I was doing well enough to enjoy it. I have been creating something I could easily stand behind and believe in.

If the customer has the balls to go with it that is. But hey, here's hoping.

On another front, I've finally been able to get active on Sydney Festival. There's so much to see, its impossible to know where to start!

A workmate of mine offered me a ticket to see the new performance by Chunky Move, so I suppose that provided me with a starting point as good as any. All the good old drunkards showed up and we were treated to a very entertaining - even if a bit technology masturbation heavy - show. It was great to see everyone again after such a long break and we enjoyed the rest of the night drinking outside the Spiegeltent.

That was Thursday. On Friday, I was alerted about a Finnish act playing at Angel Place.

A mate of mine had spotted a local radio advertising a quirky Finnish jazz act Iiro Rantala New Trio. What made them interesting is that they have replaced the drummer with a young lil beatboxing kid. Now, usually I really am not into scratching or beatboxing of any of that crap, but fuck me this kid was good!

And last but least, I caught an article on SMH introducing this bizarre Finnish man and his accordion. Kimmo Pohjola is apparently the new born Jimi Hendrix of the accordion and surely enough I had to witness his act.

Conveniently he was on at Angel Place right after Iiro Rantala New Trio so we ended up being both last night. The amount of bizarre demons this guy could magically summon with his electronic accordion was truly amazing. A fantastic show!

Chunky Move

Iiro Rantala New Trio

Kimmo Pohjola

Hectic times

Finally I have a second to catch my breath. Returning to work after my holiday has been pretty hectic. In fact, I don't think I've ever felt this wanted!

My current source of inspiration.

My current project has been a weird one. The field could not be more foreign to me, yet after I got past the first obstacles, I've been overly inspired and been able to produce (what I think is) very good quality in a very short time.

At first I thought it was impossible for me to get the designs ready before the deadline, yet here I am, finishing nearly half a day early!

This is a good day.

I [heart] Alannah Hill.

Intensely feminine, romantic and whimsical - what more could you ask for? Apart from stumbling into her store while the sale was on that is.

'A Childhood Moment' cardican


'Her Modern Life' skirt

Alannah Hill

Operation tan = fail.

Yes. I managed to pull off the Stupid Scandinavian Tourist[tm] trick again and toast myself on the beach. Silly rabbit.

We walked from Bronte to Tamarama and Deviant went for a swim. The sea was going apeshit and I decided not to go in to drown myself. We didn't even stay long.

*sigh*

My cooked lobster impression is once again impressive.

Cocktails and conversations

Feeling a little bit under the weather today if I'm totally honest. We went out for 'a couple of civilised drinks' last night, and we all know what that means...

A mate of mine from Finland is in town for a month for work. Let's call him Buttman. He invited Deviant and myself out for a couple of catch up drinkies after work, so off we went.

Buttman is a character and a half even sober, not mentioning after a few drinks, so I thought I better let Deviant know what to expect. I told him to be prepared to meet a super-intelligent nerdy ninja with a super strong Finnish accent, and with whom you couldn't have a conversation exceeding 30 minutes without the subject turning to anal sex. A sweet guy as such, only totally fucked up. In other words very good value.

Naturally, he proved me right straight away.

We took Buttman to a very funky classy cocktail bar where you rarely order from the list. Instead, you have a few minutes chat with the bartender and he'll whip you up the drink of your dreams.

So there we are, in this super trendy cocktail bar, surrounded by well off beautiful people as the following conversation takes place:

Bartender: 'What do you like?'
Buttman: 'Ummmm... I like... straight... honest... raw... anal sex.'
Bartender: 'Mate, I'm a bartender, not a fucken shrink!'

So when we finally get to sit at the table with our drinks, I've got a divine pineapple mohito-ish drink in front of me, Deviant's holding a delicious orange fruity smelling concoction that strangely tasted like single malt whiskey, and Buttman was sitting there holding a martini glass full of straight vodka with a little piece of lemon swimming in it.

Needless to say the drinks were perfectly matched, and Buttman was so impressed he tipped the bartender $50.

Another priceless quote I recall hearing in the wee hours of the night was:

Buttman: 'Hey where can we go to steal a kangaroo? I may not be as fast as I used to be, but I'm still a ninja!'

Its good to be back

Not only did I suddenly gain back my gorgeous hunk of man meat, the super delicious dinners he cooks for me, the mind-bogglingly yummy sex life and the beautiful Sydney summer - I also got back just in time for the sales on Oxford Street! Bliss.

Oh my beloved shoe stores, how I have missed thee! Now just look at these gorgeous slinky forest green Mollini numbers I scored today:

Aren't they just delicious?

Mind you, they do pose a problem: now I need to find shit to wear them with as I don't have anything green at the moment. Yes, I can see a new excursion to Oxford St happening on Saturday...

Which brings me to my next subject. Now don't get me wrong bunnies, I love going back to Finland... but how fucken bad does the shoe shopping in Tampere stink?!? Hideous shoes at horrendous prices! Unbearable I tell you!

If you know Tampere shoe store stockists, please let them know that I personally think they should be dragged behind the barn and executed for crimes against humanity.

Shoe spotting

[via]

Spotted these babies worn by Angelina during my morning blog roll. I NEED THOSE HEELS.

Pain

Crap. Failed to score a bed for myself on the night train from beyond the Arctic Circle back to civilisation. This means that I have a very, VERY long night ahead of me.

*sigh*

It takes 12 hours for me to get from Kemijarvi to Tampere. Seems a bit unreasonable keeping in mind that I can get from Helsinki to Sydney in 20...

Christmas Day piss-up

Apparently, Christmas Day is the new Boxing Day as far as piss-ups go. We - Mira Bell and I - heard from a very reliable source (read: from our certified piss-head mate Poof Jesus) that no longer do people wait till Boxing Day to go out, but instead hit the piss one day early. Naturally, we had to test it.

There was also the mystery of my missing jacket to solve. I had managed to lose my winter coat during my bday piss-up and showed up home in a tiny lil black dress, sans coat. Not good. The ulterior motive for hitting the pubs was to somehow track down my beloved red winter coat.

We had a clue: I found a mysterious cloak room ticket in my bag from a bar that I did not remember visiting. However, after bringing this up I was told that we had in fact spent the majority of the night in this particular dodgy joint. Clearly, I had drank even more than I had realised. It was truly a miracle I was still alive.

Back to Christmas Day. We made plans to hit a hideous bar called Las Palmas and started the night with salmiakki vodka shots. Back on the horse, hey? The novelty value of Las Palmas wore of even quicker than I expected and we continued onwards on our mission as soon as Poof Jesus and Candy Mama showed up.

On route to the meat counter also known as Doris, we managed to locate my beloved jacket from Onnela, just as the mysterious cloak room ticked had hinted and we had our first (and last) win of the night.

The theme of the night was 'nothing has changed'. See, the four of us have been hitting the piss for the past 15 years and therefore all equally suffer from a major age crisis. However it was somewhat of a relief to realise that nothing really had changed that much.

Doris was even worse than I remembered.

It was the worst I had seen. Poof Jesus had to hold all of us three chicks under his arms yet still there were hands trying to crab us every which way he was not looking. Every time we hit the dance floor, there were drunken idiots everywhere attempting to hump our legs or grab our arses.

The three of us (me, Poof Jesus and Candy Mama) were vicariously living through Mira Bell, as she was the only single in our merry crew. We were trying pick the best meat for her, ever if she did not agree with our opinions. At least it kept us entertained.

At the end of the night, we were leaning against the bar counter, off our tits and pointing and laughing at the heavily intoxicated fellow piss-heads around us still trying to pick up anything that moved... or actually, I don't think they cared that much anymore. It was more like they were willing to pick up anything they were able to carry home with them.

Then Poof Jesus directed our attention towards the dance floor to announce that Mira Bell had successfully picked up.

Clearly, nothing had changed.

Reamonn - Supergirl

Hey you anonymous asking after Supergirl: the band is called Reamonn.

(Going through all the comments that I have accidentally ignored while I haven't been blogging)

More delicious heels

The only thing sexier than this pair of heels is the gorgeous hunk who bought them for me...

I was having a bit of a bad day and Deviant decided to cheer me up with these delicious stiletto pumps. What a perfect man!

The Big Three-O

So. I turned 30 and can now officially be described as an old cunt. Naturally this required a hefty dose of alcohol to numb the pain of aging, right?

We started with a practice run in Sydney a couple of weeks early. See, I was going to exit the country before my actual birthday and Deviant wasn't going with me, so in order to get him in on the fun, I needed to have a pre-party.

The usual group of piss-heads gathered in to meet us at our lil love nest, and with the help of copious amounts of alcohol, we went on till the sun came up and I believe I threw the towel in around 7am by crashing on the bedroom floor next to our bed that was taken by a visiting couple.

The following day was not so fun.

--

The actual birthday party took place in Tampere, Finland and after the trial run was such a drunken success, the Finnish piss-head mates of mine had a lot of expectations to live up to.

The task was not easy, however these were not just any old drunkards: Hospodar, Kennu and Mira Bell trained in from Helsinki while Jyppi and Junnu drove in from Jyvaskyla and we all met up at Cafe Europa, the same dodgy bar where we used to start up so many yrs ago as teens.

Mira Bell disappeared into the bathroom for a while and came back cranky as all hell whinging something about breaking a clothes stand and a lash curler. Apparently she had been attempting to open the bottle of Sol she brought with her and failed miserably. Not only did she have the beer in her bag, but also a slice of lime packed neatly in glad wrap to go with it.

Bring on the champers, Battery Vodkas and Long Island Ice Teas - the night had begun!

I had been afraid of these dear friends of mine getting older just as I had, but my fears were soon proven wrong:

Kennu was drooling after meat way too young, Hospodar was pouring alcohol down my throat at a very unhealthy pace, Jyppi & Junnu had a backpack full of beer with them and Mira Bell picked up a 22 yo at the end of the night.

Clearly, nothing had changed.

We put immense effort in both quality and quantity that night: we drank everything and in enormous quantities. There was karaoke, titty bars and dodgy joints - a true trip down the memory lane back to those glorious teen nights so many years ago.

The following day was even worse than the one after the Sydney pre-party and the majority of it was spent trembling in bed in fetal position or practicing my Norwegian at the slightest scent of food or alcohol.

The need to improve no longer exists, as I cannot survive a night bigger than this.

2008

Bunnies, it's been a while. Starting a brand new year seems like the perfect excuse to get back on the horse, don't you think?

Despite turning into a sickeningly happy coupled up old cunt, I still seem to have the ability to end up in situations not recommended for healthy human beings. Piss-ups, bad ideas and unhealthy mates still make up a major portion of my life, even if most of my time is spent in the office as a corporate whore or playing the perfect little Stepford wife at home.

Cooking in stockings and stilettos seems to work surprisingly well just as designing drunk, so all is well in the world of shoeboxes.

Right now, 2008 looks every bit as delicious as this pair of heels my gorgeous hunk of man meat gave me for my 30th:

trent on universal au

"Last time I was here, I was doing a lot of complaining about the ridiculous prices of CDs down here. And that story got picked up and got carried all around the world and now my record label all around the world hates me, because I yelled at them, I called them out for being greedy fucking assholes. I didn't get a chance to check, has the price come down at all? I see a no, a no, a no... Has anyone seen the price come down? Okay, well, you know what that means - STEAL IT. Steal away. Steal and steal and steal some more and give it to all your friends and keep on stealin'. Because one way or another these motherfuckers will get it through their head that they're ripping people off and that that's not right."

"8 ways to drive a graphic designer mad'

this has to be the funniest shit i've read for ages and i just had to share this with you bunnies! (please note that this post is a direct copy-paste from ghisroy.com)

As everyone knows, graphic designers are the reason there are so many wars in this world. They get inside our heads with their subliminal advertising, force us against our will to spend money on the worst pieces of shit, and eventually, drive us to depression and random acts of violence. And of course, most of them are communists.

So to do my part to save the world from them, i made a list of things you can do when working with a graphic designer, to assure that they have a burn-out and leave this business FOREVER.


1-Microsoft Office
When you have to send a graphic designer a document, make sure it's made with a program from Microsoft Office. PC version if possible. If you have to send pictures, you'll have more success in driving them mad if, instead of just sending a jpeg or a raw camera file, you embed the pictures inside a Microsoft Office document like Word or Powerpoint. Don't forget to lower the resolution to 72 dpi so that they'll have to contact you again for a higher quality version. When you send them the "higher" version, make sure the size is at least 50% smaller. And if you're using email to send the pictures, forget the attatchment once in a while.


2-Fonts
If the graphic designer chooses Helvetica for a font, ask for Arial. If he chooses Arial, ask for Comic Sans. If he chooses Comic Sans, he's already half-insane, so your job's half done.


3-More is better
Let's say you want a newsletter designed. Graphic designers will always try to leave white space everywhere. Large margins, the leading and kerning of text, etc. They will tell you that they do this because it's easier to read, and leads to a more clean, professional look. But do not believe those lies. The reason they do this is to make the document bigger, with more pages, so that it costs you more at the print shop. Why do they do it? Because graphic designers hate you. They also eat babies. Uncooked, raw baby meat.

So make sure you ask them to put smaller margins and really, really small text. Many different fonts are also suggested (bonus if you ask for Comic Sans, Arial or Sand). Ask for clipart. Ask for many pictures (if you don't know how to send them, refer to #1). They will try to argument, and defend their choices but don't worry, in the end the client is always right and they will bow to your many requests.


4-Logos
If you have to send a graphic designer a logo for a particular project, let's say of a sponsor or partner, be sure to have it really really small and in a low-res gif or jpeg format. Again, bonus points if you insert it in a Word document before sending it. Now you might think that would be enough but if you really want to be successful in lowering the mental stability of a graphic designer, do your best to send a version of the logo over a hard to cut-out background. Black or white backgrounds should be avoided, as they are easy to cut-out with the darken or lighten layer style in photoshop. Once the graphic designer is done working on that bitmap logo, tell him you need it to be bigger.

If you need a custom made logo, make your own sketches on a napkin. Or better yet, make your 9 year old kid draw it. Your sketch shouldn't take more than 5 minutes to make. You don't want to make something that's detailed and easy to understand, because the less the designer understands what you want, the more you can make him change things afterwards. Never accept the first logo. Never accept the 9th, make him do many changes, colors, fonts & clip art. Ask him to add a picture in the logo. Bevels. Gradients. Comic Sans. And when he's at his 10th attempt, tell him that you like the 2nd one the most. I know, it's mean but remember: graphic designers are the cause of breast cancer among middle aged women.


5-Chosing your words
When describing what you want in a design, make sure to use terms that don't really mean anything. Terms like "jazz it up a bit" or "can you make it more webbish?". "I would like the design to be beautiful" or "I prefer nice graphics, graphics that, you know, when you look at them you go: Those are nice graphics." are other options. Don't feel bad about it, you've got the right. In fact, it's your duty because we all know that on fullmoons, graphic designers shapeshift into werewolves.


6-Colors
The best way for you to pick colors (because you don't want to let the graphic designer choose) is to write random colors on pieces of paper, put them in a hat and choose. The graphic designer will suggest to stay with 2-3 main colors at the most, but no. Choose as many as you like, and make sure to do the hat thing in front of him. While doing it, sing a very annoying song.


7-Deadlines
When it's your turn to approve the design, take your time. There is no rush. Take two days. Take six. Just as long as when the deadline of the project approaches, you get back to the designer with more corrections and changes that he has time to make. After all, graphic designers are responsible for the 911 attacks.


8-Finish him
After you've applied this list on your victim, it is part of human nature (although some would argue weather they're human or not) to get a bit insecure. As he realises that he just can't satisfy your needs, the graphic designer will most likely abandon all hopes of winning an argument and will just do whatever you tell him to do, without question. You want that in purple? Purple it is. Six different fonts? Sure!

You would think that at this point you have won, but don't forget the goal of this: he has to quit this business. So be ready for the final blow: When making final decisions on colors, shapes, fonts, etc, tell him that you are disappointed by his lack of initiative. Tell him that after all, he is the designer and that he should be the one to put his expertise and talent at work, not you. That you were expecting more output and advices about design from him.

Tell him you've had enough with his lack of creativity and that you would rather do your own layouts on Publisher instead of paying for his services. And there you go. You should have graphic designer all tucked into a straight jacket in no time!

top shit.

tigger bounce!

i was treated to the most hilarious case of real life slapstick comedy the other night.

we went out to the helen lempriere opening at artspace, which was a big deal this time due to pg making it as one of the finalists. so naturally we got sloshed. which was all good. in fact, we had an excellent night catching up with everyone.

i was pretty much gone so i went straight to bed when we got home. deviant on the other hand was feeling rather energetic and playful. so there i am, lying in bed and he storms into the bedroom and takes this massive tigger bounce leap into the bed.

now instead of landing on the bed like the frisky beast he is, the bed bounces him straight off into flight again and i hear this awful crash as he lands into the wardrobe. there is a silence that seems to last forever until i hear a weak trembling 'ow ...that hurt. a lot.'

poor tigger. i don't think the endless pointing and laughing helped either.

parkour at tgv

amy winehouse

fuck rehab. what this woman REALLY needs is to have her stylist burned at the stake!

[via]

love at first sight

my work mate just received his iphone.

i have to say that its even prettier irl than it is in pictures. now the only problem of course is that we're in australia, and there is no way for him to use it.

still perty tho.

guess what?

I - WANT - ONE !

parcels from mum are the best thing in the world

(just for the record: my mum roks big time!)

we found a perfect new lil one bedroom apartment with deviant a few weeks ago. we moved in a couple of weeks ago and are (still) located very conveniently in sydney's inner east.

you just can't beat the eastern suburbs. full stop.

anyhoo, this apartment is fantastic and we're both over the moon about it. we still haven't decked it out fully, but we have a list - even if a very long one - and one item at a time, we plan to make this place home.

oh, also an update: coexisting with deviant is still fantastic and only getting better by the day. who would've thunk it? i reckon the perfect balance is: i make him brekky in bed every morning and he cooks me delicious dinners. a win-win if i've ever seen one!

well, the reason i'm ranting and raving on abt mums is that i just received a parcel from mum.

she sent us a little 'welcome to your new home' pressie that contained marimekko goodies and finnish candy!

mum sent us his and hers sets of marimekko towels ('nimikko' bath towels & 'ujo' hand towels), a 'kaiku' tea towel to suit the 'kaiku' fabric i'm going to frame on our livingroom wall and of course finnish candy (salmiakki-chocolate rocks my lil world!).

now how cute do the towels look in our bathroom?

there is a giant stuffed fish head on my dining table!

no. it is not always easy coexisting with the fisherking. see, he caught his 105 kilo black marlin off the rocks this year. which - needless to say - is a big deal.

now as fas as i'm concerned that's awesome. deviant can now feel like a Real Man[tm] and the fish was uber tasty. plus there was lots of it. one-hundred-and-five-kilos to be exact. now that's a lot of fish.

well that was all good. but what happened next? the goose wanted to get his friggen fish mounted!

now there is a massive fish head on my dining table. not happy jan. not happy.

but have you ever seen a happier man?

sick lil puppy

ok. i'm as sick as a dog, all rugged up in bed hugging my laptop and bored shitless. not fun.

i think this is my cue to finally start blogging again. i mean, apart from filling my cup of steamy healing tea goodness, what else do i have to do?

retrospective: pasha bulker

here's my piccies of the big fat lady - neatly stuck between the flags on nobbys beach in newcastle:

[wikipedia: pasha bulker]

awesome tracks

unkle - burn my shadow

gotye - heart's a mess

from one addiction to another?

bunnies, i don't know what to do with this blog.

a lot has changed since the first post and it doesn't seem to serve the same purpose as it did back then.

for one, i can't seem to find time to write a decent entry. there has been loads of stuff happening lately, but i never seem to find myself in front of a keyboard within a reasonable timeframe to document the fresh encounters or experiences into blog entries.

also, i am sharing my space with another person nowadays. i'd rather be social with deviant and friends, or leave the apartment when i have free time on my hands. the last thing i want to do is sit in front of my computer.

at the moment i'm just too wrapped up in this whole nesting bullshit. must be getting old. and boring.

mebbe its just my new found facebook addiction that's peaking and eating attention from everything else?

second life

yay for new wireless goodness!

bought a new toy today.

can't wait to get home to set it up and FINALLY get rid of all those bloody cables!

winter notes with a cup of coffee

bloody winter alright!

'it snowed, hailed and rained across sydney, and we can expect more of the same in the days ahead' - smh

i'm a very lucky lil chicky to have a gorgeous whole body heater to keep me warm during the winter nights. as a bonus he also got me an actual heater to keep me warm while drinking my morning coffee.

i have to admit that i was a bit scared before he moved in. i mean, this is a 30m2 studio. plus i haven't lived with anyone for years, and its been bloody yonks since i tried to 'play house' with a significant other! so yeh, while appealing, the thought was also somewhat daunting.

i realise that a week is a VERY short time to assess such a social experiment, but i guess i just need to keep evaluating as we go. having said that, i'm absolutely loving it so far!

i like pampering him with a flat white in bed every morning, and seeing him all warm and cosy still asleep next to me while i get to do my morning blogroll.

its wonderful to come home after a day at the office and have him here waiting for me, or even better have him meeting me when i get off just so he can walk home with me. we've set up beautiful candle lit dinners with wine pretty much every night, and i love watching movies all cosy and warm snuggled up in his arms.

its the little things that make it turn into everyday luxury instead of just everyday.

in other words, my gorgeous deviant has been pulling off the perfect prince charming.

loving the new safari!

for you bunnies who already haven't done so: get the new safari browser!

apple released the new safari 3 beta on both mac and windows and fuck it really, REALLY kicks arse. i can open a folder of 50+ tabs in one window and it doesn't choke! i LOVE the fact that you can rearrange your tabs AND just drag and drop to open a tab as a separate window.

little improvements that make the biggest difference.

i heart apple.

--update

blogger editor doesn't seem to work too well on safari.

bloody brilliant!

finally an alarm clock that will stop you from snoozing endlessly:

snuznluz alarm clock connects to your online bank account and donates your precious dollars to an organisation you hate every time you hit the snooze button.

bloody brilliant i say. also, evil.

[via]

life between the shoeboxes... and the fishing reels?

looks like i'm going to have to tidy up my shoeboxes in order to make some room for the fishing reels... deviant moved in on saturday.

i nearly cracked up when he showed up. like the proper rock boy he is, the man shows up carrying a backpack and a guitar case. and that was it. heh. shouldn't have expected anything less i suppose.

he was actually supposed to come down already on friday, but due to newcastle turning into a full blown disaster zone, there was no way of getting out of newcastle on friday. even on saturday, his friend had to drive him all the way to sydney, because there was no public transport running what so ever. insane times.

i'm actually quite stoked to have my gorgeous full body heater around for the winter. nothing beats being cuddled to sleep under a warm doona when its cold outside. also, the luxurious feasts that this man cooks for me are pretty awesome. i'm being spoiled rotten and loving it!

fuck beached whales...

(pic from sydney morning herald)

...it's a bloody 225m tanker! right on the main beach of newcastle. neatly between the flags too.

this is beyond fucked up.

--update:

here's a couple of fucked up shots deviant took in newcastle yesterday. apparently there was cars abandoned all over the place. looked like something out of a bloody zombie movie!

kevin smith to do a porn comedy?

i just read a rumour that kevin smith is to write and direct a porn comedy by the name of 'zack and miri make a porno'.

as a full blown kevin smith fan, this makes me tingle inside with anticipation and i can't wait to hear the dialogue. i doubt he can outdo clerks, but fuck i'd love to see him try!

'try not to suck any dick on the way through the parking lot!'

the film itself sounds like a smith-esque take on irvine welsh's porno. but i'm sure kevin can bring in the donkey shows, porch monkeys and of course jay & silent bob.

can't wait.

all this movie talk makes me feel like a lil smith-a-thon... starting with clerks and finishing off with clerks 2, visiting all the goodies on the way. now i just need to find a crew who's up for it.

btw bunnies, if you come across smith screenplays, do point me to the right direction. i wouldn't mind having them sitting on my bookshelf for inspiration purposes...

[via]

sex and the city meets matrix

the new dictionary according to tp:

damsel-in-distress
–verb

1. to appear as a weak female in trouble in order to achieve an advantage against potential competition.
   
   
2. to use one's feminine abilities to inspire a male to perform certain tasks that are made to appear as 'much too hard, tiresome and/or complicated for a simple and weak female to perform'.
   

—Related forms
damsel-in-distress·ing·ly, adverb

you know what's my cue? some one pulling out the good ole 'see? my crotch is just not smelly enough. i hate it when that happens...' line. that's when its time to exit the party.

seriously tho, it was all good fun. even if there was no pointing and laughing at the geek.

purple and brown

observations

for some reason the ever-reliable traditional finnish distracting method of pointing and yelling 'look, a reindeer!' does not work on project managers and producers as they sneak up on you...

note to self: must come up with a local equivalent.

what a bender!

right. last week was just a non-stop bender.

on tuesday i was dragged out by the pool queen. she was bored with her group of youngens for entertainment and wanted to just catch up over a drink or two. we found a nice cosy pub with a pool table and were joined by the frenchman. a few laid back drinkies with good food and pointing and laughing over the pool table never fails to entertain my simple little mind. bliss.

the same pub happens to have a pool comp running every wednesday, so naturally we were back on board the following day. sans frenchie, but the tiny lil finnish pool queen picked up a whole fan base within a couple of games. by the end of the night not only were we on first name basis with half of the pub, but there was also a strong fan-base rooting for the little foreign chicky to kick some native arse. she did too... until she was set against the only sober bloke in the bar (personally, i consider not drinking while playing as cheating, but as usual, no one asked me...) and got her arse kicked.

on thursday i was really looking forward to a quiet night at home, but of course that was not going to happen.

one of the uk big shots of our company was over in sydney for the week and decided to take the whole office out. we started with cocktails and pizzas downstairs and ended up continuing to the cross. a couple of drinks at zachary's (sp?) and while the plan was to hit a strip club, we somehow got distracted into melt on the way. great live funk and cranberry vodka's rok.

friday was a riot at the office. i dare say the whole office was more or less drunk till lunchtime.

i took a train straight after work and headed over to newcastle for the w/e. the night ended up being quiet drinkies while catching up with deviant's friends. all very good fun.

saturday was an awesome day and we spent most of it outdoors. somehow we ended up shopping tho. now i wonder how that happened? while i scored a gorgeous winter coat for myself (will post a piccie as soon as i have enough time to take one), deviant went and bought himself a pinstripe suit.

i have not seen deviant in a suit before and let me tell you bunnies, it was the hottest thing i have seen in my entire fucken life! there he was, trying on a dozen or so suits while i'm enjoying the show and desperately trying to hide the drooling. fuck me dead!

from now on i will be using any and every excuse i can to get that man suited up. un-fucken-real.

saturday night was citronella's house-warming party and it was prolly the worst party i have attended in my life. there was no intelligent life present whatsoever, and i dare say combining the brain cells of ALL the other attendees would amount to the equivalent of a block of play-doh. fucken waste of oxygen the lot.

on top of the party sucking, it took us about an hour of freezing our arses outdoors before we were able to score a cab. for some reason i always seem to have cab issues in newcastle.

despite the pain of saturday night, sunday was wonderful. we spent the majority of the day just sitting in the sun by the beach hugging a delicious takeaway coffee. to top off a delightful day, deviant pulled off the part of the perfect boyfriend and drove me back to sydney. not only did i get to enjoy his company for longer, i also got cuddled to sleep last night and got to wake up next to him. couldn't really think of a better way to start off a week.

...now if only the medical companies would come through with the off the counter hot swap livers already.

presents? i love presents!

sometimes mates can be pretty awesome.

when i got to the office this morning, i found this lil prezzie on my desk:

'PRESENT!

(NO MILKS WERE
HARMED IN THE MAKING
OF THIS TREAT)'

now as some of you bunnies may know, i'm lactose intolerant which makes such treats a very sparse luxury. and it was oh so yummy!

this lil surprise combined with the fact that i got to start the week by waking up next to my gorgeous man, makes me think that this is going to be a very good week indeed...

just came up with a name for the adhd finnish chicky. she shall be known as 'the pool queen' from now on.

potts point blues

fuck me dead. it took me AN HOUR to score a cab this morning. there i was, standing at the side of the road in my dress and heels with an umbrella. for sixty fucken minutes! bloody hell. i was not impressed.

now i'm in the warm and dry office, hugging a hot coffee and listening to the new bjork album. so all is well. especially considering its friday.

as a bonus, it looks like i've got a very exciting night ahead of me...

chicks & steaks!

yet another great social night out.

just as i was leaving the office yesterday, i get an sms from miss pearl inviting me out for a steak and few drinkies. what a brilliant idea and the timing couldn't have been better!

so i pick the laydee up on my way home and off to bourbon we go. great steak bunnies, highly recommended.

last week she cooked this beautiful dinner for me, and we decided that we need to catch up more often, so this was just what the doctor ordered. in fact, we plan to do the grownup thing soon, and cook a couples dinner at her place including mr hero and deviant in on the fun. that'll be interesting.

i seriously miss our daily coffee & bitching sessions. it was so de-stressing and therapeutic. mebbe we can turn this into a weekly/fortnightly ritual to serve us both with a bitching fix? i reckon that would be the go.

and on the subject of the weekend: deviant is driving down tonight and looks like i have a couple of entertaining days ahead of me. we might be catching up with sunshine tonight? and tomorrow we are going to go and see pg's new artwork. hopefully we'll be able to arrange it so that we can take the finnish chick with us. i reckon she'd love pg's work just as i do.

speaking of which, here's a grad day photo of me and pg. i had the shits with the whole ceremony by this time, so i had already returned my silly hat. but how gorgeous is the dress? you just can't go wrong with pleated lace...

tho sunshine's comment was something along the lines of 'only YOU can go and pick up a fucken university degree with cleavage!' heh. bastard.

savant mussels in white wine aplenty

i was a cranky lil chicky yesterday. must have been hormonal or someshit.

at the end of the day - with no real reason - i just sat there by my work desk absolutely fuming and hoping that no poor unsuspecting soul would choose that moment to approach me.

luckily no one did.

as soon as i could, i escaped before spreading my evil mood on the people around me. it was weird. i could just feel this overwhelming bad energy that i was unable to shake off.

the frenchman had called earlier to invite me out for a catch-up over a drink or a few. which sounded like the perfect plan. either he'd cheer me up or i could unleash my wrath on his scrawny lil napoleon arse. either way it sounded good to me.

we started at the world bar with a couple of funny irish men and then continued to a wanky lil e-bay restaurant and met up with this lovely friend of his.

the dinner ended up being heavily marinated in alcohol and absolutely delicious. the fact that both the frenchie and the his friend were intelligent and opinionated people who enjoye a good heated discussion on random wanky topics only made the experience better. its funny how you can flame up a passionate verbal battle over something as removed as the inner workings of an idiot savant brain.

all in all a good social night out that did wonders in helping me shake off all that negative energy.

bad but happy lil chicky

shit. i've been pretty bad with this blogging thing lately, haven't i bunnies?

there's a lot going on in my life i suppose, but it's at a stage where i don't necessarily feel comfortable ranting on about it quite yet.

while there's been Big Questions[tm] to deal with, i've also been very busy socially due to deviant's visits, catching up with the adhd finnish chicky (i still need to come up with a name for her...), catching up with miss pearl and there's also all sort of cool social shit happening with my workmates.

its all very, very good, but i don't have that much time to spend at home sitting in front of my computer anymore. i'll try to be a better girl from now on again.

--

last week & weekend were fantastic.

first i had an absolute ball catching up with lisa on thursday. we spent the entire night sitting on her balcony enjoying the stunning view. she kept pouring sauv blanc aplenty down my throat while she cooked me an incredible moroccan feast. the food was nothing short of divine! and i have to admit that i miss the chicky like hell! its just not the same going through a work day without having the compulsory bitching session with the morning coffee.

on friday, i caught up with the finnish chicky to do another lecture on why i love australia: i taught her the meaning of the magical lil letters 'byo' when it comes to restaurants. we fetched a couple of bottles of white and went to this nice lil thai restaurant and had a drunken feast. she was VERY impressed.

we had a ball and by the time we were reaching the end of the second bottle, deviant showed up and we continued the night at baron's. all in all a good night out.

on saturday morning we drove down to canberra with deviant for the w/e. the gorgeous man spoiled me with a dinner of dozen oysters kilpatrick and fuck me it was good!

i ended up spending the majority of the w/e sitting on the back porch petting the dog and soothing my soul with the beautiful scenery of endless pace and paddocks with cows for as far as i could see.

there is something incredibly soothing about the four elements: whether its large bodies of water, endless landscapes of paddocks and space, an open fire to warm you up or a beautiful summer breeze - it all just fixes you down to the core.

in a nutshell: life is good and i'm a very happy lil chicky.

its all good

today is good day. no, a great one.

i wake up to an email announcing that my visa application was approved, the past two days spent rugged up in my bed resting seems to have worked wonders on my flu and i feel so much healthier, i received a phone call from deviant that made me feel so much better than i have for the past few weeks and now my mates once again showed how wonderful they can me.

today i love my life. today the world is a wonderful place. today i am smiling.

note to self: there is a reason why home brand mouthwash is only $2.49 when a bottle of listerine is $7.95

graduation retrospective

right. graduation. where the fuck should i begin?

in short, it was a bloody catastrophe.

the venue was even cheaper and dodger than last year, which alone was nothing short of a miracle. and naturally, since i had equipped myself with the hottest brand new black leather pumps and a skimpy lil black dress, the weather was a textbook example of a torrential downpour. great.

little did i know that this was merely the beginning.

see, this was supposed to be A Big Day. i was graduating with first class honours and on top of that scored a university medal that was presented at the graduation ceremony. nothing quite like strutting the red carpet with a medal in one's hand to stroke that academic wank of an ego.

well, there i go, waiting for my moment in the spotlight and watch my good uni mate pg strut through the carpet and pick up his perty lil trinket. next was going to be me. fantastic, i thought. this is it.

i hear my name announced - ignoring the fact that she made it sound like i was bloody italian - there i go stepping on to the red carpet. walk up to the dean to shake his hand. my moment.

well guess what the old geezer decides to ask? 'is your family here to celebrate with you?' no you fuckwit. and haven't seen any of them for years. thanks for reminding me.

but wait. it gets better.

instead of handing me my trinket, he just gets rid of me and sends me walking off the stage. furious, i return to my seat and spend the rest of my ceremony cursing him to the lowest of all hells while staring at my precious trinket sitting on the table in the middle of the stage.

so eventually, i end up receiving my university medal in the janitor's closet from the fucken janitor. the cunt had the balls to shake my hand too. congratulations my arse.

but as usual, that's not all.

as the icing on the cake, my honours supervisor ends up pouring his coffee into the bright white velvet lined box holding the trinket.

motherfuck.

*sigh*

its been an amazing week.

like stealing a slice of goodness from under the nose of reality. i've been spoiled rotten like the feline goddess i am, purring in ecstasy and losing myself in the hedonistic wonderland of the moments when time seizes to exist.

unfortunately, like the ever certain might of mr. murphy, you can be sure that the inescapable grip of real life will tighten its hold on you eventually, and propel you on a collision course towards the harsh concrete floor of reality. the better the escape, the harder the impact.

i fear this will be rather painful bunnies.

speaking of mind boggling shit

nine inch nails brings star trek closer...

mind boggles

nin - hurt


sad kermit - hurt


johnny cash - hurt

pressies? my favourite!

how good are mums?

i (finally) received a parcel from back home. mum has a knack for packing these perfect post packages of lil pressies and surprises. this one included everything from candy to finnish quality cosmetics and even a book in my native language. that'll be a delight to read.

however the reason i've been waiting for this parcel so impatiently, is that i knew it would contain a full length piece of marimekko kaiku 560! she even included a packet of matching napkins. how awesome is that?

now all i need to do is to figure out how to rig that up on my wall...

posting spam: idiot of the week

'...but it worked so well for the coffee shop down the road...' rofl!