Staring at the screen
Home. My own bed, unergonomic desk and an internet connection that makes the dripping of frozen molasses seem quick in comparison. I guess the years of FUNET goodness first here and then in JKL spoiled me. Sharing a two mbit connection with two other people makes me feel like it's 1994 all over again. Waiting minutes for websites to load and all that jazz. (I think there was a study that showed that the current generations have become increasingly impatient. Also noticeable was a decline in perseverance. It's like humans are morphing mentally into hummingbirds, little by little embarking on a frenzied three hundred heartbeats a minute quest for constant stimuli where to wait is an expletive.)
But enough of social commentary and my networking woes. The past weekend was a nice change of, well, if not of pace then at least of scenery. As friday turned slowly towards evening, our three-man wrecking crew gathered its gear into my folks' station wagon, loaded up on groceries and headed off into the great unknown. (Or at least to a place that shows up on maps as large planes of even yellow dotted here and there by the sparse black rectangles of rural dwellings.) Finally, an hour or so after sunset, we arrived into the grounds of a small cottage near a pig farm. We unloaded our equipment, popped open a beer each and proceeded to enjoy ourselves. During the course of the following day and a half we jammed, went to sauna, drank beer and played various xbox games. Then after sleeping, waking up hung over and getting rid of said condition, we did it all again. And watched some anime on top. The second time in sauna each of us went out and took a nice roll in the snow. Like real men. (There aren't many things that beat the tingly feeling of warmth that suffuses your body after a silly stunt like that.) Sunday came all too soon.
The greatest thing about cottage trips is the tranquility. As soon as you step out of the car, a calm comes over you and you just kick back and drift from place to place. You have no obligation to do anything (except to keep the fire burning in the sauna stove), no deadlines, no math books reminding you of the studying you should be doing, just the liberty to exist at will. Now, of course, I'm back to my normal surroundings and to celebrate the occasion my head is starting to hurt. Tomorrow will be a long day again.
But enough of social commentary and my networking woes. The past weekend was a nice change of, well, if not of pace then at least of scenery. As friday turned slowly towards evening, our three-man wrecking crew gathered its gear into my folks' station wagon, loaded up on groceries and headed off into the great unknown. (Or at least to a place that shows up on maps as large planes of even yellow dotted here and there by the sparse black rectangles of rural dwellings.) Finally, an hour or so after sunset, we arrived into the grounds of a small cottage near a pig farm. We unloaded our equipment, popped open a beer each and proceeded to enjoy ourselves. During the course of the following day and a half we jammed, went to sauna, drank beer and played various xbox games. Then after sleeping, waking up hung over and getting rid of said condition, we did it all again. And watched some anime on top. The second time in sauna each of us went out and took a nice roll in the snow. Like real men. (There aren't many things that beat the tingly feeling of warmth that suffuses your body after a silly stunt like that.) Sunday came all too soon.
The greatest thing about cottage trips is the tranquility. As soon as you step out of the car, a calm comes over you and you just kick back and drift from place to place. You have no obligation to do anything (except to keep the fire burning in the sauna stove), no deadlines, no math books reminding you of the studying you should be doing, just the liberty to exist at will. Now, of course, I'm back to my normal surroundings and to celebrate the occasion my head is starting to hurt. Tomorrow will be a long day again.