So. I got invited to this private album release party (of one of my favorite bands, none the less) the other day and of course that meant that I wasn’t home really early. One could even say that I ended up home pretty late that night.

And now it’s the morning after that, and I’m slowly opening my eyes. This has been happening too much lately. The alarm clock is making more noise than humanly possible and I look like a Gordian Knot on my bed. My yoga instructor would be proud. I probably have slept for something like three hours again, and most of that upside down, or something. I notice I can’t really move my neck all and that my shoulder aches a bit. Oh boy. This will be a fun day.

I grab some breakfast supplies from the kitchen and hop in the car, since I’m already almost late from the Very Important Meeting at a Very Important Client’s office on the other side of town. We’ve had a lot of these lately. Stuck in the morning traffic is not really that much fun, even if you have the newspaper and your breakfast with you in the car. Luckily I arrive on time, find a parking place right in front of the office building, and run in. I pitch my ideas like a true pro should with my neck slightly tilted to the left and my eyes falling asleep half the time. Thank God for coffee. Then drive back to our office and when I get there remember that it’s moving day.

We’ll be carrying tables from one end of the building to the other. If my neck had a mouth, it would cuss. And my shoulder would agree.

Somewhere around the point where a table crashes on my foot I start fantasizing about the evening – going home, taking a long bath, grabbing a muscle relaxant and going to sleep early to get the day over with. Once the moving is done, time for some normal work, but I’m more or less just looking at the clock, counting the minutes to when I can go home.

It always does this at these points, doesn’t it? The phone. It rings. Mine has this little wonderful song as a ringtone. (Go ahead, listen to it, you’ll need the knowledge later on)

“Ptr.”

“Hiya. It’s Mi.” Ok, another Mi. Not the one from Tampere. Better call this one something else. Mie, yeah, that’s a good solid and won’t get confused with Mei or Mi (or Mi) at all.

So, “Hiya. It’s Mie!”

“Oh, hi.”

“I’m heading to Itäkeskus already to do some shopping, so if you get there early, give me a call.”

Right. We have plans to go for a quick cup of  coffee after work today. Mie is a wonderful girl who I went to high-school with who I see maybe once every two months over a cup of coffee, trade the latest rumors, complain how people around us are getting married and find solace in the fact that Mike at least is still single so all hope is not lost for us yet. It’s more or less a “When someone manages to get Mike married, we’re officially the last single people on earth” situation.

“Sure, yeah. Might take a moment longer, we’ve been carrying tables and shelves at the office all day and I’m all sweaty and covered in dust now. Will take a quick shower before heading there, ok?”

One thing I love about our office is the showers downstairs. Not so keen on the idea of delaying the bath and sleep, but we don’t see each other that often, so I can stay up using the power of coffee a bit longer. It won’t take long anyways.

“Oh, ok. Give me a call when you get here.”

I close the line. Right. Quick shower, another cup of coffee, and drive to Itäkeskus. This won’t delay my plans a lot.

I arrive around six o’clock.

It’s fun to see her. Always is. We catch up. I tell stories of my birthday party, the week when Santtu was here (damn, that one has some good ones I just have to tell you at some point), how I’m loving my work again, and so on. She tells about what’s good about hers in response. Then we gossip about the people we know, complain about other people getting married, and find comfort in the fact that Mike’s still unwed. Usually at this point we say bye, and that was pretty much what I had in mind when I promised to see her for a cup. But then we end up talking about cars. I don’t know how this happens, since neither of us are really “car-people”, but somehow we’re so caught up in discussing her getting a new car that when my phone rings cheerfully again (1, 2, 1 2 3 4!) at around eight, I have for a moment forgotten the plans to go to sleep early.

“Ptr.”

“Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii!”

There is no question who is on the other end.

“Hi Kat, what’s up?”

“Well, you said that you might have some spare moving boxes at your place I could borrow?”

“Right, sure, of course.”

I suffer from chronic case of chivalry. I can’t stand the thought of a damsel in distress. While this has landed me a cameo role as an actual knight in shining armor in a book by an American author (long story), at the moment my neck is protesting loudly to my habits. But can’t help it. I bid Mie farewell, apologizing that I have to go so soon, finish the cup of coffee and go pick Kat up from Kallio.

Quick stop at a shop to get the basic grocery shopping done, then to my place, stack the food in the fridge, find the boxes and drive to her place on the other side of town.

During this, we end up having one of those ultra-deep conversations about human nature that just keeps going on and on. Life, love, freedom, all that. So our stops take a moment. When we finally get to her place with the boxes, it’s about half past nine.

“Thanks for the company, but I really think I should get going, take a bath, get some sleep. Maybe take something for the neck pains.”

“Yeah, of course, I need to start packing as well. And thanks once again for the boxes.”

At this point Kat’s flatmate pokes her head through the door.

“Aaa! It’s you! I’m just making some pumpkin pie, would you want to stay and have some?”

Curses. One of my weaknesses. A cute girl offering me pie. How can I refuse? And one slice of pie won’t take that long, will it.

So, some quarter past ten I’m getting ready to head home. Can you guess what happens next?

Yup. “One, Two, One Two Three Four! We accept h…” rings out from my pocket. I answer the phone, quickly glancing who is calling. And knowing what’s next.

“Dude. Where are you? The party’s been going on for like 2 hours already. People have been leaving disappointed when they’ve seen you’re not here. You got to come here. Stat.”

I sigh.

“Sure, Mike. I’ll drop by on my way home. Won’t stay long, my neck is killing me and not drinking anything, I’m by car. Wait? People leaving? What sort of a lame-ass house party are you having there?”

Not so lame, really. If there is something Mike’s good at (ok, he’s annoyingly good at everything he does, but anyhow..), it is hosting a party. Good, big house, lots of nice people. My “dropping by” turns to “Well, I might as well sit for a while and socialize” and then to “Oh damn, is it past midnight already, I should head home.” and to “Ok, it’s damn late and I’m tired, I’m going. See ya, guys”

I don’t really even care about the bath anymore. Just muscle relaxants and sleep. Really.

“There are a couple of things about your latest project I’d like to ask you before you go,” asks Matt when I’m heading out the door.

“If you want to leave, I can drop you off on my way home, you can ask me in the car, I just really need to get home at this point.”

“Sure.”

I recently started to waste my free time on a three year long art project (to be finished in December 2012, one of the reasons I suck at updating this blog) that Matt is somewhat involved in, and he’s really interested to hear what I have to say concerning that. A couple of girls who are also leaving at the time beg for a place on the backseat so naturally they are free to join. They’re more or less on the way.

It’s fun to explain what you’re doing to someone who is actually interested in listening to your plans, so we take the scenic route.

Around two in the morning I’m finally driving back home.

and then …

“You know…

Your life really sometimes reads like a weird HBO series.”

Best compliment I’ve heard in a while.

It’s funny how the blog keeps popping up in normal conversation a lot these days. Everything from jealous-sounding passive aggression to people laughing at the moment they’ve recognized a person behind a nickname. And of course people suggesting what I should be doing next.

Suggestions are the best sort – “You really should go check out this..”, “You know what? You should go get yourself a traditional..”, “I think what you really need to do is go and..”

And while listening to one of these the other day I realized that I was getting boring. Doing the same stuff with the same people. Hours on the dance floor, partying like there’s no tomorrow. Nothing new under the sun. So, did something really old to balance it out. Well, something I hadn’t been doing in a while – Gaming!

And no, I’m not talking about Neil Strauss now.

Yeah, sometimes one just has to geek out a bit. And say what you want or act all high and mighty, but I am yet to see the guy to turn down the opportunity to beat his friend up in Tekken or to have fun rocking out on their favorite song while playing Guitar Hero World Tour.

Backtrack a couple of days. I’m having a bad day. One of the worse ones I’ve had in a while. And it’s not really anything specific about the day in question. It’s a cumulative effect.

I’m just annoyed.

Biggest annoyance is the fact that I’ve been disappointed by some people. Not all that uncommon, really. People do stupid things, you get disappointed, shake your head and move on. But when the disappointments happen in clusters and you happen to be on the receiving end, it’s not fun.

So, I’m sitting in the office, pretty much just going “Gah, people!” at the cubicle wall. The weather outside is gray. Things look bleak.

I hate to call this guy Mike on the blog, but it’s a pseudonym that suits him. Why not call him that? In the stuff that I’ve written in the past, people called Mike don’t have the best track record, ever. They don’t have what one could call bright and shiny futures. In fact they’re usually the ones who end up dead or worse. Just have to hope that this is not foreshadowing and call Mike Mike.

Anyways. Mike. Cheerful guy, one of my older friends, know him through Mitch originally. Used to go out with my sister a couple of times back in the nineties. A b-movie fanatic, b-boy… and I run out of b-words to describe him at this point. He’s one of those people who have born with a silver spoon in their mouth, but manage to stay relatively human despite this. He studies journalism and whatever else he happens to fancy at the moment. And probably will have a shiny future ahead of him no  matter what happens with his studies. One of the lucky ones. Nothing bad to say about the guy.

“You up for some fun and games tonight, I’m having the shittiest day and could turn my brain off for a moment or two after I’ve finished writing this paper. When are you getting off work?”

Nice to know that I’m not the only one having a bad day. Work ends early (can’t be bothered to stay there any longer than I need to, not being really productive) I pick up Mike and a couple of other friends and we head out. Now, say what you will, but no matter how crap you felt or how bad you play, couple of hours of blowing shit up virtually with a few friends just turns that frown upside down.

Back when we were younger, there was a tradition to go to someone’s place for the evening every now and then, play some, listen to music, hang out, have fun. And after that, walk a round through the neighborhood, talk about things. The hanging out was a prelude for the talk of all the serious stuff. Troubles in relationships, hardships at work, fears, hopes. Talk about the stuff that Finnish men just don’t talk about when they’re sober. These days we don’t live near each other anymore, so if someone’s by car, the ride home has replaced the therapeutic walks.

And 6 hours after feeling like crap when getting off work, I am back on track. Things are good again. It doesn’t take really elaborate things to accomplish good mood. Good friends, chance to wind down. That’s all one needs.

On some other days, it’s even simpler. This morning, all it really too was the fact that the sun is shining in the sky. The roads are clear of snow. I have a fast car under me (borrowed, my own car is reliable and rugged, not fast) and great music on the car stereo. And I’ve pretty much been smiling the whole damn day even if things haven’t been all that easy.

Tomorrow’s plan: The Return to Tampere.

“What do you mean, my life reads like an HBO series?”

“Well, take the trailer of that new series Treme, for example.”

“Yeah?”

“Lots of music, some girls, a city in ruins. I don’t know yet, but it could fit.”

“Right…”