My first blog. Wupii. But why write on an Finnish board in English? Because I have friends who don't necessarily understand Finnish and I would be pointless to first write in English and then translate it.

So do I have anything to say? Perhaps not; I don't have any illusions of someone actually caring what I write here, but it's a way to pass the time (and a way to avoid reading for matriculation exams *cough*).

But anygays, my birthday is over and I survived!   On Saturday though I had a massive mental hangover because I over-estimated myself on Friday, but luckily I have friends who understand me. <3 The second birthday wasn't quite as... eventful as the one on Friday, but more fun nonetheless. My friends also got to meet my boyfriend for the first time. Also my dad hurt his leg during his Friday adventures, so no driver for me. Why the fuck do I not have my driver's license yet?! I hate depending on others, so you can imagine what hell it is to ask your neighbour to give you a lift.

Friday/Saturday wasn't just about me drinking too much and feeling guilty about that, no. It was then when I for the first time realized just how much I miss my mom. I kept imagining how she would scold me for stupid actions and also how she would keep dad behaving. I miss the food she cooked, how she would greet me when I came home, I miss her hugs, how SHE didn't flinch when she noticed I had a cold but asked: "Have you got fever, have you taken some medicine, are you sure you want to go to school tomorrow?". She would understand my school problems without much explaining, would be interested in how my friends are doing, would want to meet Markus and teach me how to cook something good for him (and also for dad, who can be pickier than me even if he eats everything).

I miss her. But you know, you can't help it. We cannot do anything but adapt. I have responsibilities: school, out pets, this house and its chores, the funeral, bills, the effing family business which I hate...I cannot drown my sorrows to alcohol because someone needs to take care of things. I simply don't have time to curl up in the corner and angst, otherwise everything will pile up and it'll become impossible to get up on my feet again. Pity doesn't clean the house, sorrow doesn't help me pass the exams, crying doesn't feed the cats.

But that doesn't mean I won't get tired, mentally and physically. And when I try to escape this place for a short while, to have some fun with friends or to visit Markus' place, guilt and anxiety follows: how's dad doing? Should I be leaving already, is he worried? How are cats doing? Is the place completely thrashed when I get home? Have I been too long away from home?

This place binds me to place. Before it was every summer, every single fucking day I had to worry about the business. I hate the business, but even more I hate adults (what, again you say?) for pestering me and making me feel guilty when I don't want to keep running this place! Like my destiny was sealed when I was three, that I will have to keep this hotel running every single summer, at the cost of mental health, too short contacts with my friends and constant feel of not doing enough. Like it's the most important thing to be a young entrepreneur, to make money and to be productive the whole time. They nowadays even look at me funnily when I say I want to go to Turku to study. "What about your father?" Well, thanks for the guilt again. It's not like I want to live my own life for a while.

Say what you want, but the Abi-cruise was a touch of heaven: for the first time in a long, long time, no responsibilities, no timetables, no chores, no worries: just fun and relaxation.

 

Maybe I am a selfish prick.