(no subject)
I'm utterly uninspired by LJ. I'm utterly uninspired by anything online, in fact - seriously, I've tried Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr, a couple of different public blogs... and now it turns out I just don't use any of them and that's making me sad and frustrated, because I really want to have a presence in social media. Help me please?
We're going out to have dinner at our favourite local restaurant tonight, I'm going to get all dolled up (well, you know, dolled up in my way - but I do have a beautiful new pair of heels that I can't wait rocking). It's making me very happy.
My days of freedom are over now and I'm back at the Helsinki Festival, and that's making me very happy too.
The novel is back from the editor with a fuckload of corrections and I need to go over all of them in the next eight days (that is, evenings after a day in the office) and that's not making me happy at all, but at least then I'm done with my first novel translation, and that is indeed making me very happy. The editor, despite the frightening amount of corrections, seemed pleased with my work, so much so that he apparently wants to give me more. Now that, my friends, is making me very happy. Right now I feel like this schizophrenic career kind of a thing I have going on here might actually work in a sustainable way. It's not exactly easy, trying to hoard freelance work but needing to dodge it between March and September, nor is it easy balancing between being a PR person and a credible journalist... but it's worth a try, I think.
I didn't have popcorn for breakfast in February Sirjuary, but I did read a handful of books that I think were good for my heart. And I started eating porridge* every single morning, no exceptions. Well, there were exceptions. But I had a good reason every time, such as not waking up at home. I paid visits to two previous hometowns. What else? Did the maid-of-honour thing, thought about my own wedding quite a lot - It's like, I kind of... can't wait? Maybe I should propose - and bought flights to go to Rita & Camilo's wedding, which is fantastically bizarre (LJ was good for something once, yo!) but is also making me ever so, ever so happy.
Anyway. Must dash, my beau is waiting.
*) A part of me wanted to write oatmeal. I don't know what my English-speaking identity is these days. I'm lost in a sea of porridge and trousers and autumns and audible r's.
We're going out to have dinner at our favourite local restaurant tonight, I'm going to get all dolled up (well, you know, dolled up in my way - but I do have a beautiful new pair of heels that I can't wait rocking). It's making me very happy.
My days of freedom are over now and I'm back at the Helsinki Festival, and that's making me very happy too.
The novel is back from the editor with a fuckload of corrections and I need to go over all of them in the next eight days (that is, evenings after a day in the office) and that's not making me happy at all, but at least then I'm done with my first novel translation, and that is indeed making me very happy. The editor, despite the frightening amount of corrections, seemed pleased with my work, so much so that he apparently wants to give me more. Now that, my friends, is making me very happy. Right now I feel like this schizophrenic career kind of a thing I have going on here might actually work in a sustainable way. It's not exactly easy, trying to hoard freelance work but needing to dodge it between March and September, nor is it easy balancing between being a PR person and a credible journalist... but it's worth a try, I think.
I didn't have popcorn for breakfast in February Sirjuary, but I did read a handful of books that I think were good for my heart. And I started eating porridge* every single morning, no exceptions. Well, there were exceptions. But I had a good reason every time, such as not waking up at home. I paid visits to two previous hometowns. What else? Did the maid-of-honour thing, thought about my own wedding quite a lot - It's like, I kind of... can't wait? Maybe I should propose - and bought flights to go to Rita & Camilo's wedding, which is fantastically bizarre (LJ was good for something once, yo!) but is also making me ever so, ever so happy.
Anyway. Must dash, my beau is waiting.
*) A part of me wanted to write oatmeal. I don't know what my English-speaking identity is these days. I'm lost in a sea of porridge and trousers and autumns and audible r's.