The weekend was my birthday but the partying lasts all week, and I shall remember the 22nd one for these reasons but also because of my nice birthday surprise. The earth moved, like quite literally!
So the UK was hit by its biggest earthquake in decades, reaching 4.8 on the richter scale. After a quite calm day on my actual birthday (there was work to be done, although with cake on the side) in the evening the wine was cracked open and us girls got down to some serious chit-chatting. About one am the ground started to shake, the sofas moved and the walls wobbled a bit. Could that be the noisy neighbours?! No likely with the sheer vigour of the shake! All sorts of things went running through my head, was it Iraq bombing us or Osama making another attack, a plane crash or had the aliens landed?! Then there was the thought that it was actually an earthquake and that was when we got freaked out. The actual tremor was pretty much over and done with and was not wholly exciting in itself, but the aftermath is. The one thing that is certain and in place for a short time wasn't, and this concept was a little hard to grasp. We got quite upset by it, and were anxious to find out more...
Since then of course the news has covered it, and local talk has been about the 'quake.' It's all a bit exciting really, and I will remember my 22nd birthday with a bit of a thrilling memory... Of course there is also the usual partying going on - my surprise birthday party which I know about is on Satyurday - but I realised that really I must be getting old because I spent all of yesterday complaining.
I went out Monday night, decided to go to the cheesiest club ever and get it OVER NAD DONE WITH. Imagine visiting the inside of a flamingo with a definite eighties feel?! This was the club I went to. Cadillacs. Just awful. The atmosphere was great, with returning students meeting each other after how long?! A year +. It was a whirlwind of hugs, kisses and shrieks of delight - in English, French and Russian. It was a good laugh, for want of a better word, even in the surroundings! Yesterday though I was deaf the whole day and I realised that I may be growing old of the partying until late late. Sleep deprivation and ringing ears are just no longer enjoyable. Sigh!
Yesterday was also a weird day because I encountered a blas from the past, quite literally. A girl from my old school in Helsinki now studies in Bath and she took me by surprise yesterday when she came up to me on campus. Really sweet girl, Swedish speaking Finn, so I was not wholly unhappy to see her one could say... More updates on that later.... I will no doub be reminded of all sorts of silly things, and get to do it in Swedish too. Wow.
As a final note, thanks to the new entires on my guestmap. I was thrilled to see people starting to use it, and I hope that all is well with you guys!
:: Fiona 9/25/2002 11:55:00 AM [+] ::
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:: Friday, September 20, 2002 ::
So, last night was the night I had dreaded for so long... I was to not only meet the man behind desbladet but also face the dreaded Swedish class.
I was so nervous, but as it turns out all was fine. Des was exactly how I imagined him to be, a slightly offbeat academic with a self proclaimed addiction to buying the most varied of books and a genuine interest for scandywegian princess - you should have seen his face light up with delight when it was the teachers turn to embarras him over his Aftonbladet and Mette-Marit obsession. Classic.
Luckily she (teacher, really nice) doesn't have anything on me... Yet! I think I will manage with the pace, the level was about right and even if there are people in there who have been studying Swedish for 20 years then that can only be a positive thing - they will have to help us mere mortals.
Anyway, I have a hundred and one things to do so I had better go but I thought that I would blog about that moment... Ahhh!
:: Fiona 9/20/2002 11:38:00 AM [+] ::
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:: Wednesday, September 18, 2002 ::
So, as I may have mentioned, I am biting the bullet and actually taking a Swedish class. Tomorrow. I am really quite nervous about it...
It has been recommended to me that I shall be put in the higher class. Hmmm, I cannot believe they will let me jump straight to the advanced class; can I be that good?! Maybe I will be in for a shock when everyone is better than me and I will be left behind, feeling like a total idiot for never really using the opportunities I have had. I mean I was in Finland for three years and did it ever occur to me to take a Swedish class?! Dohhh, no. How many times did I go to Sweden?! How many times did I lament over being bored whilst in Sweden?! Oh, regrets regrets.
Hence I am now in a total flip out mood over trying to learn some Swedish in the next 24 hours, and am reciting tongue twisters such as: Sju sjösjuka sjömän sköttes av sju sköna sjuksystrar. This S business, it is a nightmare. It will all be worth it though, surely?!
I have always been a bit ashamed about my Swedish because, frankly, I am lazy and I don't make any concerted effort. I listen to people and I read trash but it is hardly highly sophisticated. People tell me it is very good, convincing and all the rest of that but they would have to say that or I would be offended, right?! Or maybe they are just astounded that anyone from the UK can utter a single word in this language, and even dare to pick up an accent. Ahaaa, this could be it. Definitely my accent is good - whilst in Denmark recently I attempted to speak Danish and the Danish people thought I was Swedish - but although the accent is maybe ok the actual knowledge of words is a little bit on the rusty side, and so I turn again to my anxieties... Vicous circle really...
Anyway, as I was talking about accents... I am taking this class with a fellow blogger Des. As I have been in Moscow and not really in this part of the world in the past while, we have never met, although we have been communicating over our computers. How geek like. Tomorrow though we will meet for the first time, before the class begins. Yikes. To arrange a time and place we spoke on the phone, and Des was surprised to hear that I have a Scottish accent. Well naturally! I am Scottish afterall.
Until recently nobody ever really commented on my accent. I am pretty good at concealing my Scottishness, and although I would always speak at home with my family in a Scottish accent (for fear of being sent up north for corrective therapy, ha ha) at school I would adopt the local accent for where I was. Give me time and someone to copy and I can lapse into West Midlands or Cumbrian accents. For a few years too I had an American twang, with some nasty Scandinavian sing-song bits thrown in for good measure (international school messed it up) and then when I came to university my accent was this basic international accent, so that people could understand me. I remember in Moscow I was chatting to my friend Jemma in a the way I normally would with non-Scottish people and then my brother called me and I lapsed into this weird Scottish accent, so much so she couldn't understand me and thought it was really funny. My brother is 'really' Scottish, my parents too - in fact my Dad is so Scottish sounding that an ex-boyfriend (Swedish) couldn't call my house for the first few months we were dating because he was scared to get my Dad on the phone and would sound like a complete moron for not understunding even the most basic of question. My sister and I though are really not very Scottish, in general. Seriously, put me beside a regular glaswegian if you don't believe me. I will sound very English in comparison. It also helped that I didn't spend so much time in Scotland.
However, in saying all that, I have just been back home for a month. I spent all my time with my family, talking talking talking and so I am really Scottish. I came back to Bath and my friends have been amazed at how Scottish I am sounding, and even at the weekend at work people asked me where I was from in Scotland. Wow. It is nice, I like accents and so I am happy to sound Scottish. I was going to say that my accent will calm down and become more anglicised in the next few weeks but I think I shall have to call my parents more and try keep hold of it instead. Sounds a bit more exotic maybe?!
:: Fiona 9/18/2002 02:13:00 PM [+] ::
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:: Monday, September 16, 2002 ::
The eagle has landed. That would be me. I am back in Bath. Two weeks have passed since I last blogged, or even looked at a computer and it feels like a life time. So much seems to have happened. It's all a bit of a blur.
Took the plane, followed by a bus and train. Arrived in Bath. Got the keys to my flat, which I had not yet seen, and then promptly fell in love with it and all its surroundings. It's on St James Sq - upmarket, very chic, very cute, georgian architecture all the way, ooozing with history and character. Bliss. Waited for my Dad to get here, unpacked, spent the first night in my new flat. Handed in my dissertation, sighed a massive sigh of relief and then it was off again. Up to Warwickshire to visit family friends I had neglected for four years. Chaos. Retrieved a bag of winter clothes (Moscow left overs), returned to Bath. Spent second night in my new flat, took another train. Spent a lovely few days near/in/around Portsmouth with my friend Sophia (whom I shall be living with in said lovely little flat in gorgeous St James Sq, Bath) and her family, doing all the things we enjoy doing... eating dim sum, lounging in jacuzzi, shopping, drinking coffee, marvelling at nice looking things, staying up late talking and talking and talking, driving around (we test drove the new mini and epitomised a couple of airhead, lipglossed girls in a car garage), swanning around marinas and other such poncy places, and generally being girls. It was glorious. Then it was time to pack up Sophia's car, drive up to Bath and move in - the two of us - finally.
It has been a non-stop rearranging of furniture, trips to the DIY store (another place we totally look out of place), calling up the electricity people, gas, water, phone people - inevitably being put on hold for hours - and more trips to shops to buy such exciting things as extension cables and energy saving light bulbs... greenpeace can get off my back on that one. Oh and I have had a breakthrough with assertion. Bearing in mind I am quite a confident person in most areas of my life, put me in an electrical store and I just melt into ditz mode. It is really quite annoying. Well anyway Sophia and I have become all domestic and decided we should invest in a new washing machine. We did our research and promptly bought a beautiful machine last week, which was supposed to come tomorrow. Yesterday the manager of the shop we bought it from called to tell me that the particular style of machine I had bought somehow had all dissappeared from the warehouse and would I mind having one that looked identical but which had a different spin number. Hmmmm, what does this mean?! I got all flustered and agreed, and the guy probably went home last night laughing. But then today I called the store and said that he shouldn't try pull any wool over my eyes and (after research of course, a phone call to someone in the know) I said that I wasn't going to downgrade without knowing it and that he should pick on someone else. I bargained my way into a partial refund, free delivery and plumbing AND a lovely new, gadgety, super advanced and (best of all) free iron. Did I mention the words girl power?! I am a goddess!!! My machine arrives on Thursday, just before I find my way to Bristol to attend my first ever Swedish class.
Bit nervous about that, but excited naturally. I cannot wait to see what level I am really at and to finally have some kind of grammatical knowledge as opposed to the 'pillow talk' that comes out of my mouth, mixed in with grammar from other languages. It is about time that I really started to take this seriously, started to push myself... It fits with my start of term resolutions.
This is the best thing about being a student, you have two starts of year (calender and academic) and so you can make two sets of resoultions. I am going to try be more studious and work harder, spend less time doing frivoulous things, keep in touch with my friends a bit better, and loose some more weight. Not to mention perfect my French/Russian/Swedish, maybe bring myself back up to scratch on Finnish and learn to wear sensible shoes to work.
Saturday I started my new/old job. I used to work at Racing Green and I loved it, it was the perfect part-time job to go beside my studies - I got to meet loads of people, show off my language skills with the foreign customers and play with gorgeous clothes all day. When I went away (Brussels and Moscow, how could you forget?) my Boss promised to keep my job open for my final year and she, of course, kept this promise and I started back on Saturday. It is different though. We were bought over by a new company and there are new rules and ideas, a completely new cashier system and I don't feel like the old pro I used to be - persuading silly men to buy three cashmere jumpers because it makes them look foxy and things like that. I spent Saturday wandering around, trying to familiarise myself with the new ranges, learning how to do everything the new way and not really being able to help that many people. To boot, and sorry for the pun, I had forgotten that nine hours is a long time and so I had worn a pair of rather high and pointy toed (but naturally fabulous) stiletto boots. What an idiot... So, that is my mission. To either perfect a nine hour shift in this type of shoe, or go flat and comfy. I have every faith that I shall slip into my old ways soon enough, find my feet (what is it about these feet puns?) again. I mean, yesterday I stunned a couple of nouveau Russians by asking them if they would rather have a big bag or a small back, in Russian naturally. You should have seen their faces... "How on earth can someone behind the counter possibly speak Russian?!" And so there I was feeling like Eva Perone, with a smug smug feeling inside. Ahaaaa, I may look the bimbo but... OK, I have to use the Goddess word again - it is my favourite word of the moment.
Naturally I am very happy to be back in Bath. It is such a scrumptuous little place that feeds my pretentious side - I mean, why else would I use a word like scrumptuous?! It is also so small, I don't need to take the metro to get from one end to the next and I am no longer anonymous. I love that. I am quite a sociable person and so to go to the supermarket even and bump into three people you know, well that is wonderful. It can also have its surprises, ghosts of boyfriends past and all that, but all in all I prefer it to Moscow. It is also cleaner and a bit of a warped place, and full of scandywegian people. My ears are tuned to it perhaps but in Homebase (that's the DIY store) there were Swedes, in Waitrose (supermarket) there were Norwegians and today at Toni and Guy (hairdressers) a Finnish guy cut my hair! How funny... I am living back in my warped world, and I have to say I am LOVING it.
Am radiantly happy, life is getting back to normal (well as normal as it ever will be) and there is a lot to do. I am still not hooked up to internet at the flat yet but hopefully this is me back on the scene now... Wohoooooo! I cannot belive I just wrote a blog about nothing other than a pile of nonsense. Oh well. Maybe my sense will regrow with my normal life. One can always hope!
:: Fiona 9/16/2002 02:51:00 PM [+] ::
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:: Sunday, September 01, 2002 ::
Apart from the dissertation dragging on and on, with regards to Russia it is pretty much all fond memories now. I have discarded the toilet paper I brought back as a souvenir (one step away from Sandpaper I tell you) and have been thinking only of the good things. This would be partly due to me going back to uni and having to face my class - I need to have something positive to say about the Motherland or I will be pelted to death by Russian dictionaries - but also for my own sanity. I don't want six months of my life to be some kind of a black hole that I just cannot think about incase the tears come. Oh no. I need for those six months to be some kind of learning experience, and indeed they were. I learned so much more about Russia than I ever could have imagined, and I am chanelling it to greater goods so that I will radiate enthusiasm and not fall into a pit of Russia-hating, which I assure you is easily done.
Things that have helped me over the past month, since I have been coming to terms with this, were the memories of the fun times I had, walking around all the different museums, being wowed by the sheer talent portrayed at the theatre (Bolshoi in particular) and the sense of pride I felt when I actually left. Not to forget just how kind some people were. Right enough, meet the average Muscovite on the street and they will without a doubt grate on you and make you so angry you could spit feathers, but when you get to know a Russian they can be the kindest people in the world. They don't have much, but they are willing to give you everything. My Babushka was a prime example of this. My goodness she drove me NUTS but she was lovely, any time I felt sad she bought me little treats to have and she never once made me feel like a lodger but like a part of her family. It was fantastic, she knitted us mittens too!
Well anyway the reason why I am thinking about this today is because I had emailed this Russian lady about a poem. Basically I had found this poem in English on a web-page about the Metro. I found her contact details and asked if she could possible send me the original Russian version if she had a copy of it, because I wanted to use it in my dissertation and I couldn't find a copy of it, not even in the State library. The poem was from a Russian childrens book and not only did she send me the poem but she scanned the whole of the book and sent me it via email! How lovely is that?! A whole childrens book, with gorgeous pictures and all! Not only was I really touched by her thoughtfulness in spending how long scanning and sending me this but it will be fantastic in my essay! Wow, what a Star that woman is. Hats off to Russian babushkas... AGAIN!
:: Fiona 9/01/2002 03:58:00 PM [+] ::
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Last night I went to see the film Insomnia, which would have been a downright fantastic film had I not seen it before.
So, I was all comfy in my seat, I had my chocolates (maltesers - they're lighter than ordinary chocolates) positioned for a prime time movie watching gobbling sweeties session, the credits had rolled and I was ten minutes into the film when it dawned on me that I had already seen it, either that or I was suffering from a very big, astounding and realistic case of deja-vu. It was the orange curtains that did it for me, the fact that the murder mystery was taking place in the land of the midnight sun. This land though was Alaska, the previous land was Norway. The original film was a film by Norwegian Erik Skjoldbjærg, with the Swedish actor Stellan Skarsgård playing the lead role of the good/bad cop.
That was it... it all came flashing back to me and so I sat there, expecting the inevitable. Right enough I did see the original maybe two years ago and so my memory wasn't too spot-on (afterall the ringing bells would have happened earlier than me actually getting into the film) and so it was enjoyable, still thrilling and a bit intense, but it just wasn't as intense or as gripping as it could have been.
Al Pacino played the lead role, and he was excellent - his face did most of the acting and he really did look sleep deprived. I wouldn't be in a position to compare him to Stellan Skarsgård though. The film was not cut and dry, black and white, and so the roles merged a bit, but the 'bad' guy was played by Robin Williams, which was highly weird. This is the man who I associate with Mrs Doubtfire and Patch Adams... what could he possibly bring to the role of a murderer?! A lot. After the initial typecasting worry he had me convinced, and so all in all the film was good. That nurse from ER was also in it.. Ohhhh!
Thumbs up then to Insomnia - even if you have seen the original, it is still worth going to see! Back to dissertation, again....
:: Fiona 9/01/2002 12:38:00 PM [+] ::
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