On This Frozen Sea We Slide

Whooopsie daisy! Long time no see again, sorry about that. The first thing I have to say to you all is fantastic New Year 2013! I'm hoping my new year would be even half as unforgettable as the last one, which is a lot said. A LOT. I didn't make any great resolutions, I don't tend to. It's a bit overrated and most of the people fail to keep them anyway. I somehow made it through the busy period, and it's good to know the worst is over. Looking back I'm not quite sure how I did it, but I suppose that's not important. My family paid me a visit, which was well nice, but it was also extremely weird seeing them here!

Today I reached my 4 months. I didn't even realise it before I accidentally saw the date somewhere and thought hmm, the 11th, I know there's some trick there. I had a very refreshing day. The weather was really nice (this is how the stories of nice days in England usually begin) so I took a long walk to the left, towards Brighton. I'm always taking long walks back home for there's something so calming and head-clearing about it, and on top of everything the surroundings here are ten times nicer. The sun was low but still shining, and it lid up the city and the white rocks in the distance. It was absolutely beautiful and I had one of those wow-i-really-am-here moments. I couldn't help thinking Brighton truly has it's bright on. I kept on walking along the coastline, it's so nice for it's impossible to get lost, and after a half an hour walk, just when I thought maybe I should go back already, I got to some kind of park. Brooklands Leisure Park it stood there in a sign. I loved it there! I was thinking this is the kind of place I like, why haven't I found this before? Green grass, traditional English bush, trees, paths, old benches, and a pond with little boats, swans, and  funny birds that kept swimming next to me (I wasn't swimming!) for they were convinced I was carrying food. And mini daisies. I also ran into a very happy and muddy dog, or he ran into me, so now my blue jeans need washing. However, I don't mind. After that there was a strange moment I caught myself thinking "If I had a dog I'd always walk it here." and then "What? I DO have a dog!". I'm definitely going back with a better camera. And without a camera, as well. You know, the sunset is gorgeous by the sea. Well. The sun setting behind the hills and trees takes it to another level. It might have something to do with my personal obsession for trees, though. My first word was "tree" — in Finnish of course — "puu". Which is remarkably close to the English word "poo" by the way so now I don't know whether I was a very nature-loving baby or just very international.

There are two things that have made me think more about leaving — new year and other people going home. I used to think I'm leaving "next year" so no worries, but now what, that year is here. And the others. One by one they're starting to go (a lot of parties coming up), and I can feel my own turn approaching. Armand left about a week ago, which makes me the most experienced waiter. (Now applauds, please, everyone!) We're sad for he's gone, but he is happy. Basically, at the moment the thought of leaving bothers me. It's not that I'd necessarily want to stay in this hotel for longer, it's the people who have become very dear to me. I feel a knot building inside me every time I think about possibly never seeing them again. I hope I will. It's funny, isn't it? You share a tiny part of your life with someone, it means the world, and then they're gone. It's so wrong, but it's life. I've started to think what if I'd stay a bit longer. That's no solution, though. It only puts the pain off. And I'm only talking about two weeks or so, after that I have to go. I have to study. So I'd go in April? I'd still have time, I could even start studying while I'm here. Hello, English, England? Why not. I'll have to think about it.

Brooklands Leisure Park

Jake Bugg - Slide

A Christmas Greeting

Today is the day the we celebrate Christmas in Finland. Not tomorrow, you English fools, today. I don't feel very christmassy even though I've got the world's smallest and cutest real Christmas tree, and the one present underneath it (thank you Kersa) is bigger than the tree itself. That might the problem. I should go to bed soon as I'm going to watch some traditional Christmas stuff live online in the morning (I'm really too tired to explain what "Joulurauhan Julistus" and "Joulupukin Kuumalinja" are, my apologies). One thing is for sure — it's going to feel weird. I'm a bit disappointed because my friends and family still haven't received the cards I posted 11 days ago. 11! Anyway, my Christmas will be very multicultural this year: Finnish-English-Polish-Spanish-Brazilian, something like that. I'll get back to you later, most likely after all the Christmas hustle at work is over. We've got a long week ahead here!

I WISH YOU ALL A VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS!

This is my favourite festive tune this year, enjoy.

I'm Not Done Travelling

Only 14 days left of this year. My goodness it's gone fast. I'm in the middle of my time here now, and if the rest it about to rush past at the same speed... well it's a bit frightening. I am so grateful to myself for being so sensible and deciding to stay for six months instead of four. I'd be in trouble having to go in three weeks. Many of the others are leaving soon, which is sad. In no time I will have turned from the newest waiter into the oldest one. The oldest and the wisest. (Wise my arse; sometimes I still have no idea what I'm doing, the only difference is I just do it.) It feels strange to picture myself back home. Lying on the sofa. Walking the dog. Seeing the people. Like nothing's changed, like I never was away. But I might as well quit thinking about it now, I'm still here! I've still got plenty of time to do plenty of things. This week we all have a lot of time off, because next week is going to be super busy. Tomorrow Yago and I are going to the Isle Of Wight. It'll be interesting to see the island again after two and a half years.

Now let me take you back a couple of weeks. One Saturday night after work I was sitting on my bed scrolling down Facebook when after seeing people's party-related statuses I suddenly realised what day it was. (This happens to me every weekend.) But this time it was different. It was Saturday and I'd be off on Sunday, and I thought WHY AM I NOT OUT? The thing is, unfortunately you don't get many chances to go out in the weekend unless, of course, you don't mind going to work after two hours of sleep or no sleep. The idea isn't exactly very tempting. People do it, though. I marched upstairs with the intention to knock on Marika or Jatta's door, but to my surprise I ran into Jatta in the corridor. She was on her way to ask me whether I'd like to go to Brighton with them, to have a night out. You can't just ignore such coincidence, can you? So we jumped on a double decker. I like sitting in the front of the upper floor even though every time the bus turns it looks like the vehicle is about to hit the street lights, traffic signs, and buildings. Even people. Exciting! We stayed in Brighton all night and took the first train back to Worthing. We had to wait on the station for over an hour, and it was freezing cold. We all almost fell asleep on the train, but somehow just when it stopped at our final destination my eyes opened and "Where are we??? In Worthing! OUT!". I was back in my room at 08:04, went to bed, and woke up at 4 o'clock in the afternoon. It sounds bad, but here it actually feels rather natural to sleep that late on a day off. To stay up almost till it gets light, and to get up when the sun is starting to set. Even on a normal day without the nightclub factor. Yeah, it messes up the whole routine but then again, what routine? One morning despite the fact I was off and could have slept long I got out to see the sunrise as  it was absolutely gorgeous the day before, and all I got to do was admire it through the window between serving customers. Well, all I can say is bloody clouds.

I can't remember what day it was anymore, but for it was a very sunny day I took a walk on the beach. The tide was low so I could walk quite far. I was listening to Christmas songs and it felt extremely strange. It could've as well been summer when I closed my eyes, the sun was so hot. I'm not kidding. And it doesn't look like winter anyway. Some people still go out in shorts (mad people they are, but still). You can actually find all kinds of interesting clothing combinations here. Like shorts and a winter coat. Or flip flops and a winter coat. That's my favourite actually. And what's the point in wearing a winter vest on the top of a t-shirt? Some things I'll never understand. But back to the beach — I found what I think was a dead shark! It's not what you're thinking right now. It's not a 10 feet tiger shark. It was little, about 1 foot, but very shall I say sharky. (I've spent endless hours watching nature documentaries when I was little so trust me, I know a shark when I see one.) There were also three people riding horses along the beach. The sound of the hooves against the wet sand was quite funny. Funny isn't the right word. I can't think of any good word to describe it. Hollow and smooth. Yeah it was both hollow and smooth. If you know what I mean. No? That's probably my bad.

Last Saturday I was at the Jools Holland Show in the Brighton Centre. I got the day off! Now I've seen KT live, she's really real. Though her appearance was only a brief one (I knew it would be, she played three songs) it was worth every penny. Otherwise the whole show was like a huge party full of middle-aged people who after a pint of beer got in a serious groove, got off their bums, and ran (yes, RAN) in front of the stage to twist with the other middle-aged people who'd done the same. I thought perhaps it's their only opportunity to ever dance since they're too old for clubbing. The only difference being the music was rhythm and blues, not dubstep. I was comfortable in my seat. Sitting. But it was fun to watch.

I've been really popular these last few days receiving parcels and cards all the time. Thank you!

Laura Marling - Not Done Traveling

Oh Christmas Lights, Keep Shining On

I am sorry, my lovely readers, for having been absent for so long. Somehow the days have just gone floating by springing nothing specific to write about to my mind. I'm not saying it's been boring or that nothing has been going on (there's always something going on in this place). 

Finally this morning I started to feel a growing urge to get some text out of my system. Looking out of the window at 06:30 the grass in the Steyne Gardens was frozen — something I haven't seen here before. It was so calm out there. Crispy but calm. Everything was still, no wind, no people, nothing. Only the rising sun, clear sky, and the glittering frosty grass. It was so beautiful, and I think it is about time it starts getting more wintry. It's December, which equals Christmas. It's December, so I can listen to Christmas songs (how I've been waiting for this day to come)! It's December, which means I'm seeing my family this month. Is it really this month? It is. It's December, which makes me think about what to get everyone for a present. Back home I often have the problem I can't think of anything. It's simply because there's nothing nice enough. Well, here the problem is the opposite: what NOT to get. Everywhere I go there's an endless sea of nice and even nicer things. I was very excited at first, but now that I think about it, I don't know which is worse! Posting huge parcels to Finland isn't free, you know. Don't get your hopes up, friends... Oh and I managed to get myself a real teacup, can you believe it, no more drinking from the old yoghurt pots!

I love the Christmas lights on Warwick Street. They keep changing colour from red to purple, from purple to blue, from blue to turquoise, from turquoise to green, from green to yellow, from yellow to orange, from orange to red. Now read that again, please. Just kidding, you don't have to. I also decorated my own room with £5 colour lights to make the nights a bit warmer and brighter. I didn't know it gets dark so early here as well, I've always thought it's some kind of a North thing. Because Christmas is well on it's way, I had really started to long for the seasonal drink we have in Finland. We call it glögi. I had assumed they wouldn't have it here, and had my family post me some. (Googling "posting liquids" made me feel rather desperate, by the way, so to save you from that feeling let me just tell you it IS possible.) And they sent me a pair of brand new, granny-made woolen stockings, too. However, I found something that's very very close to glögi, they call it mulled punch. I believe that's the non-alcoholic version of mulled wine. I bought a bottle to see whether it would be anywhere near to glögi — and it was! I opened the bottle, smelled it, and almost cried. Then I invited my Finnish friends over to have a mug. Now with the real thing I have to be really careful about who I'm going to share it with. Not to say, Jatta and Marika, that you two wouldn't deserve it! I'm sure I've got some for you. My kettle isn't too happy with this, though.

A couple of days ago I did something totally on impulse. I had already given up on the thought of doing it once, but then, I just did it. I bought a ticket to Jools Holland Show in Brighton to see my biggest-idol-ever-all-time-favourite artist KT Tunstall. I've been listening to her music for ages, I've learnt so much from her, I've been singing and playing her songs over and over again. I can't put down in words how big a deal this is for me. Even before coming here I used to say that during those six months in England I'm bloody going to see her, no matter what. I know what this probably sounds like, at least to someone who isn't that into music. A concert, how is that a matter of life and death? It fucking is. So I've got a ticket. Now I need the night off, and that's where the problem lies. For now I've been told no, although it wasn't the final answer. The night happens to be the busiest of all nights, and everyone should be working. Which means that most likely no one will be able to cover me. If she tells me no, I seriously don't know what to do. I might have to call in sick (though I know how see-through that would be) if my personality lets me. I'm not the kind of person to rudely skip work just for fun. I'm not the kind of person who lies to people like that. But let me just say it would be absolute torture to be working that night knowing what's happening only a couple of miles away at the very moment. UNBEARABLE.

Alright. I'm going to end with a weird thing that happened to me a while ago. One morning I was hit by a sudden hunger for marmalade and butter on toast. Orange marmalade. I don't even like orange marmalade! So what can you do, I had that for breakfast, and was very pleased afterwards.

So here's me, alive and well, hope to get back to you soon! :)

Coldplay - Christmas Lights

Serotonin

Even usually, time is a funny concept. Here it becomes particularly funny. It's our two month anniversary today — me and Chatsworth's. One third down, two to go. If I had to tell someone how long I've been here without knowing how long it's been, just based on the feeling, I don't know what I'd say. I really really really don't. Also, could someone please explain me why you achieve so much more in between your two shifts than during a whole day off? I mean not always! But it happens. It's November, which to me is pretty close to late September in Finland. The sun is shining, and I feel guilty for not going out. I've always had this problem. It drives me crazy sometimes. Because you know in some parts of the world it's not everyday you get the privilege to see the bright thing in the sky. I will go out after finishing this, I have to pop into the post office for some secret business. I hope the sun hasn't set by then. It probably has.

Last week I was ill. It started as a little cold and ended up as a fever of 39°C. Thank goodness that was only one day, it is not enjoyable in any way. Or well. At least it vanished all my sleep debt for a while. I obviously wasn't able to work, so I stayed in bed for three days. Getting from the bed to the sink felt like taking The Ring to Mordor, and if you've been in my room you know the distance. (For the rest of you, it's half a metre.) There was a moment I felt very low, but it lasted like 10 minutes. When you're ill you just want to be home and looked after. But I'm grateful for the personal room service I had. I was a little worried about the upcoming MJ gig, but luckily on Wednesday morning, not a bit too soon, I woke up and the fever was gone.

So on Wednesday evening I went to Brighton. It was still over two hours until the doors would open for I had decided to be early. The first thing I did was I found the bus stop from which to catch the last night bus after the show, and then I checked out the venue. It was only a 15-minute walk. It's by the sea kind of in the middle of nowhere, so apart from occasional joggers there was basically no one there. THEY WERE HAVING A SOUNDCHECK. I could hear Blaine Harrison. I was so blown away I had to call a friend just to say I just heard the band play! There's something so thrilling about hearing what you're not supposed to hear, and I have to say that was the highlight of my night. Yes, before even entering the venue. I'll post the song I overheard. Two hours and one pizza later I was queuing in. Then the girl in front of me suddenly went "I like your coat!". It turned out she was half Swedish, half English — the perfect combination, don't ask me why. She was called Miranda (real name) and I was struggling to keep my mouth shut. I don't think I can ever take the name seriously again. She had come alone too, and was well nice so we stayed together for some time. There was a third girl with an Irish name as well. She weirdly reminded me of a certain friend of my friend's. However, we got drifted apart quite soon because of the mosh pits. You don't expect mosh pits at a small club gig. It's not normal! I personally like to concentrate on the music instead of keeping myself in one piece. It doesn't make me a worse fan. Maybe, had I been completely well and feeling extremely adventurous, could I have jumped in. Since the event allowed in 14-year-olds, there were some annoyingly arrogant drunk teenage girls in the crowd kissing each other and getting tossed around. But the band were brilliant. And so were the two support acts. And I'm still alive.

There was a dramatic factor to yesterday's wedding. I was clearing the tables when I saw a man holding a plate looking somehow disgusted and as if he'd wish to get rid of it as fast as possible. It didn't take long to see why: there was a huge spider on the plate. I think it was a little boy's plate. Alrrrrright, let me just take that! While I was carrying the plate the spider got all covered in sauce and curled up, a couple of legs still stretching out. I'm not afraid of spiders, but it was a disgusting sight. I actually felt more sorry for the spider than the customer. Just a tiny wee bit sorry for the little boy in case he was scared. But that's me. I collect earthworms from the pavement then throw them back on the grass. Why not rinse a spider. I didn't cause they threw him away.

Ps. I finally have an English number! It was the last thing on my "Shit to do" list.

Mystery Jets - Serotonin

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas

So has Yuletide arrived at the Chatsworth. That’s what they’ve been warning us about as long as I can remember — if you for some reason don’t happen to like Christmas this place is not for you. Well, luckily I happen to like it very much, but we’ll see whether my feelings will have changed after two months of constant Christmas spirit. Yesterday after breakfast the decorator a.k.a “Father Christmas” started to decorate the restaurant, and by dinner time there were Christmas lights, fake icicles, poinsettias, glass balls, and spruce branches. I kind of liked it, but then again, IT’S OCTOBER. I also started to think if that really is someone’s profession? A Christmas decorator? What does he do all year long, he’s like Santa Claus, he’s got nothing to do! Or perhaps he spends the whole year planning the next Christmas. Or perhaps he’s just a decorator, and does other stuff, too. It has to be so. Ah, peace of mind. At least they’re not playing Christmas songs yet, however, my head is quite good at it. Every time I see the ornaments: “Deck the halls with boughs of holly, fa la la la laa, la la la la! 'Tis the season to be jolly…” To be jolly for two months? When it’s chaotic at work for we don’t have enough waiters? Everyone’s going, except Armand, Jatta, Marika, and myself. Even the new Frenchies are going home just in time for Christmas. The old Frenchies are gone and now replaced with new ones. So we’ve had six French boys here so far, four of whom called Thomas. How is that even possible? It’s not. It is (French accent now) impossible. But it’s true. Anyway, I have my family and some friends coming over in January, which might make it a bit better, you know, having something concrete to look forward to.

Yesterday was not my day. On Sunday night the time changed so we had to turn our clocks back one hour. I thought, alright, no problem, even if it went wrong, although it won’t, I’d only be at work too early. For once I was having the perfect morning, peacefully drinking tea and listening to music without a hurry ever in sight. I’ve bought a kettle and a bright red teapot! Words cannot describe the joy it brings to pop the kettle on in the morning, and have hot tea with Tesco semi skinned milk and Demerara sugar. I don’t know what that is, actually. Let me just google it. Brace yourselves:

"Unlike brown sugar, which is just refined white sugar lightly bathed in a bit of molasses, Demerara sugar is a large-grained, somewhat crunchy, raw sugar with origins in Guyana (a colony formerly called Demerara). Because of the rising popularity of Demerara over the years this particular type of sugar is now produced in Mexico, India, Hawaii, among other countries. Demerara is a light brown, partially refined, sugar produced from the first crystallization during processing cane juice into sugar crystals. Unlike brown sugar, which has the added molasses flavor, Demerara has a natural caramel-like flavor that hasn’t been refined out. This lends warm caramel notes to whatever you add the sugar. Also, Demerara sugar is also referred to as Turbinado sugar in many markets, which has more to do with how the sugar is processed in turbines, than where it originates."

OK. I'm much wiser now. Totally. Suddenly, Jatta comes knocking at my door: “Are you coming?”. Ummm… Excuse me what? “Yeah, everyone’s already there and José (our head waiter) asked me to go get you.” The end of my perfect morning. It wasn’t really pleasant to squeeze everything I was going to do in 45 minutes into 10 minutes, especially knowing what lies ahead. Breakfast-lunch-dinner. No time to fix anything (nor eat) before the lunch is done. Apparently, my clock had automatically changed the time AFTER I had changed it manually, so here we go, two hours back. I even made sure the automatic time change was off before I went to bed. And it was. That’s what you get when all you’ve got is a digital clock (my mobile) and nobody or nothing to check the correct time from. Never trust a digital clock on a day like that. I was easily forgiven because that particular day is the one they expect people to show up at the wrong time.

It kept getting better. Out of the blue, they started to complain about my hair. That I should wear it up, in a more tidy way so it’s not on the plates. FYI it’s never been on the plates. Quite understandably I had no time to do it the way I normally do in the morning, so I just had it in a high ponytail. Normal. But I went straight to the toilet to put it up, and managed to stumble through the breakfast service. Then, before the lunch José went: “What’s happened to your hair?”. Yes, I was well aware of the fact it looked a bit messy after hoovering the restaurant, running to my room to eat a banana to avoid starving, and running back to avoid being late again. I had no time to do anything to anything. So, I went to tidy it up. This time I put it in a ponytail in the back of my head instead of the top of my head. Tidy. After a while the same lady who had started the complaining said: “Vilma, could you put your hair up again, please?” Oh. So I put it up again, in a different way than in the morning, and asked her nicely if it was alright. Yes, it’s alright now. And then she said I shouldn’t give her an attitude if she asks me to do something like that. Give her an attitude? GIVE HER AN ATTITUDE? I wasn’t giving her any attitude. I wasn’t trying to be a rebel by wearing my hair in “the wrong way” on purpose! She also used the word “unfortunately” referring to me having long hair. What amazes me the most is that I’ve been wearing my hair in a ponytail every single day for over a month, and no one has said there’s anything wrong with it. Not even HER, and she has seen me many times. Today, all I did, was wore it a bit higher than usually, and o lo lo what a mess! But from now on I’ll have to wear my hair up, in a bun. Crazy. A storm in a teacup. 

Just click “Play” (This is the only way to make you listen to it)

Just A Little Video I Made