"Dynamic employee for the Summer" "Freelancer" "Hej! I am a 20-year-old girl from Helsinki" and other things from my sent e-mails folder

London ages ago

Everything's going fast, fast, fast but so painfully slow - job applications, job rejections, rental applications, unanswered e-mails, the last day of day job tomorrow, new job applications flying around, cold cover letters, freelance work, temporary work, a month, a month and a half, obscure time patterns.

Copenhagen is constantly interrupting my thoughts. I have weird dreams at night and keep seeing catalogue models who look like someone who I wish I won't run into in Osterbro.

I want to send a message to Copenhagen that I'm coming soon; sing it like that swedish Veronica, jag kommer and such but my voice wasn't meant to be recorded and I don't know if I want anyone to wait for me or not.

I keep having second thoughts about everything; about quitting my job and about having these napoleon complex-like wishes, but then again, it's so useless to worry about how life goes. If you do good, it will come back to you. I'm beginning to sound like a self-help book - alarming.

And whenever I've been feeling let down and apathetic lately, I've resorted to this song. I wish some of its quiet power and beauty and rawness will transfer through my headphones.

That's alright, that's okay, I'm alive

You know when there's that certain kind of wind or that certain kind of sky that makes you remember things? Tonight it was the deep blue sky and the traffic lights that made me think of Copenhagen and airports and wide streets and things to come.

I received my first subscription issue of the International Herald Tribune and some books for LSE and Houghton Street. It's almost spot-on six months until my home city is London. I feel like smiling like an idiot. Nothing dramatically positive has happened, it all just somehow feels right. Everything's going to be alright.

For a few hours everything has been in its right place. Time has been frozen for a while, right now I refuse to worry about London or fret about the job situation in Copenhagen.

I'm going to see Helsinki-Vantaa again sooner than I thought. I'm leaving early Sunday morning to make a flash visit to London, see where I'll be spending the next three years, try to fall in love with the place, try to see myself on a morning run in Hyde Park or staggering home tipsy with someone wonderful. I feel like it's going to go well.

Tomorrow things might be different but right now I feel sweet and strong and capable and lovely. I have achieved something already. And it feels overwhelming. Now it's time to take it further.

I started to write a real paper diary again, because it finally feels like this life is something worth writing about.

The ugliest sneakers in the world (or so I've heard) & the bucket list for April-August

Fave lbd and apparently the world's ugliest shoes that I love despite everyone else hating them (and no, no undergarments can be seen in these pics, only misfortunate shadows)

Learn danish.

Taste meat just to remember how it tastes like.

Lose two kilos.

Buy a white blazer.

Run 25 kilometers.

Write postcards from Copenhagen.

Read Dostoyevski when you're down.

Kiss by the Seine.

Learn to be cool in the Scandinavian way.

Feel accomplished.

Have a crush on a total stranger.

Ride the S-toget alone from start to end.

Write a short story.

Learn how to use your charms.

Learn how to be carefree.

Snart kommer vågorna, snart kommer Atlanten

I fought my way home at 5am, after eating mud cake, drinking a sangria-ish white wine mix and visiting the tiki bar. This city showed its friendly face, again.

I learned that P&K is a finnish-swedish abbreviation of puss och kram (from my tuesday night-acquaintance who I never thought I'd hear from again). Tuesday's nightly acquaintance almost convinced us to switch to a newly-opened horrible club with his charming but clumsy messages, but we stayed put, dancing and having conversations that ended with Have a good time in Indonesia and sometimes a bit of excessively friendly behavior.

Everything that's temporary feels fine. I can easily exchange a few smiles and laughs and talks when I know that the take-off is soon.

Things seem easy. Time to breathe, time to be. It seems like I'm learning something new every weekend, it seems like every change, even as little as cutting off hair is linked to something better. I think the cushioned playground- mentality is working fine.

She's got everything to gain 'cause she's a fat girl with a lisp

Since August I've lost 5 kg off my body and 15 cm of my hair. Both measurements keep on growing.

Working is hard but it gets me money. Alcohol has once again become a friend to avoid, especially on Tuesday nights when three glasses of white wine at an exhibition opening are definitely too much.

The darkness that falls in the middle of the afternoon turns days into surreal moments, where I sometimes lose my focal point and everything becomes dark.

A friend left a few days ago to travel far South. Whenever I'm home I tend to slip into my white lace pants, to make pretend I'm already free.

Also, rule #1 which is no wine on an empty stomach is going to be challenged again today. My rule guide is now called Make This City Your Cushioned Playground Because You're Leaving Anyway and I intend on doing it right.