<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045107808097075161</id><updated>2011-07-08T08:43:35.605+03:00</updated><category term='home'/><category term='story'/><category term='drama'/><category term='daily'/><category term='poem'/><category term='nano'/><category term='enlightment'/><category term='food'/><category term='family'/><category term='school'/><category term='original'/><category term='apathy'/><category term='writing'/><category term='quiz'/><category term='travelling'/><category term='trip'/><category term='cleaning'/><category term='friends'/><title type='text'>January Blues</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Riibu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12372608887367344873</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>22</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045107808097075161.post-4878483837984802790</id><published>2011-07-06T11:54:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2011-07-06T12:10:48.089+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trip'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='travelling'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><title type='text'>Travelling</title><content type='html'>I am, at the time of writing this, in Ukraine. I'm visiting my brother and his wife. Figured this would be a good place to jot down some things about the trip. dA wouldn't be as appropriate and it's not like this has gotten much traffic from myself in a while. This is of course mostly to remember things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Okay. Starting from yesterday the main thing tht comes to mind is that I was not at pretty much any point particularly excited. Or well, nervous would be a better word, I guess. I was sort of excited in a good way, but there were no butterflies (which I kept hoping would appear at some point). No nervousness much at all. Everything went so very smoothly. Mom was nervous while we were waiting for my dad to come pick me, but I was just kind of bored. Because it took him a while!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Checking in was easy, waiting for boarding was easy... The good excitement came went the plane really started to take off. I was a touch worried that something would go wrong and how much of a shame it would be, having only gotten started on the adventure of travelling by plane for the first time in my life. (oh yeah, that was a big thing.) But all went smoothly. They let me sit a window seat on the first flight. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My ears didn't pop much, but they kept trying to close or something. I in turn kept swallowing and yawning, which helped. Both of the flights themselves were uneventful and a bit dull, but that's okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then arrived late at night, finally, to their apartment and got promptly shown around both theirs and her grandfather's adjoining one. Her grandfather being on vacation elsewhere, I was allowed to stay at his place. Plenty of privacy like so, which is good, even if there is a cat whoäs used to getting his way. :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning, woke up early with only a little bit of a stuffy nose (mildly allergic to cats, but this old dude hasn't given me much trouble). I did put him outside the bedroom for the night - a fact the cat was not happy about, but I felt it was the safer choice for me. No waking up with throat closing in the middle of the night!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, there's some rain. It was a tiny trickle at first, and then bam! Suddenly, huge rain drops everywhere. Looked totally fun from the inside though. Don't know if this means we'll be staying inside for the day... I guess it would be more comfortable than to go out and get soaked. I mean, for them. I still like rain. ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Must get around to taking a bunch of pictures. :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4045107808097075161-4878483837984802790?l=taleofriibu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/feeds/4878483837984802790/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4045107808097075161&amp;postID=4878483837984802790' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/4878483837984802790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/4878483837984802790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/2011/07/travelling.html' title='Travelling'/><author><name>Riibu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12372608887367344873</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045107808097075161.post-1339022818913341494</id><published>2010-03-29T20:12:00.004+03:00</published><updated>2010-03-29T20:38:10.921+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='enlightment'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='home'/><title type='text'>On Moving</title><content type='html'>I've been packing my stuff, because we're moving. And by we I mean me and my family (includes mother and sister, and technically a hamster and some fish, but I don't really count those), not just myself which would be even better. But all in good time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've managed to throw a bunch of stuff out, one of the biggest being the bottom of my bed. Well, it's called a yankeebed in Finnish, no idea what it's supposed to be in English. It's like a mattress with short legs, then a second one over it, no wooden sides or anything. Really difficult to clean under, kind of uncomfy and weird if one's used to having a bed with an actual frame? Yeah, so we're totally getting rid of it. It wouldn't fit into my new room in any case and I've long wanted a real bed with a proper frame to place it. Since I still need a place to sleep, the top mattress now rests straight on the floor. It's still thick enough to be comfortable though. Unfortunately considering my new room I'll still have to get a bed I won't be wanting to keep whenever I do move to a place of my own. See, it'll have to be bunk bed, except with a space underneath for my desk, which is larger than an ordinary workdesk, since it's technically a craftsdesk. Gotta have room for those fabrics and all that. (it still had one of those sliding little ledges for a keyboard, though... but we did throw that out, because I had no use for one. Too tricky for me.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, but I was supposed to tell you about my current sleeping arrangement. Bed; on the floor. Packed boxes of my stuff; around it. Okay, my room is ordinary rectangular shape. Window at one end. The bed's head was touching the wall, but otherwise it was slightly towards the center of the room so that there was space between the bed and the window to walk about. Not much.. but enough to sort of comfortably vacuum there. The bed's still sort of in the same place, but now most boxes are in the space between the bed and window. And then, with a very small space to walk sideways, the other boxes in a line on the other side of the bed. Getting the picture yet?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't imagine how utterly comfortable I'd feel lying there! It was the strangest thing. You'd think, suddenly the bed you've had for a few years and gotten used to disappears, and all the space you've had around you is gone, instead there's a wall on both sides stealing away the familiar sight of the birchtree outside, and the rest of the lovely room (pleasantly mostly green, just to my taste). But there I was and couldn't remember the last time I'd felt pleased lying in my own bed. And I thought: "Why is it that I feel so good when my whole life is in a kind of transition?" And I really don't have an answer. I just do. Maybe a part of me yearns for a change to happen to me, since my life's been rather uneventful so far. (and really, still is, moving is nothing new for me) A part of me wants get up and run out there and see what's going and take part, and GET ON WITH LIVING ALREADY.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah, it could be that. :) Considering the tiny part of me that is not looking forward to settling down elsewhere. I'm a wandering soul at heart, perhaps. But since the only ways to places unknown are my dreams, I don't exactly have much of a choice.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well. It's life. I'll get used to it. :\&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But yeah, that space on the floor is super nice. I still have two more nights that I can spend there, reading a book or just closing my eyes and dreaming of nice things.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4045107808097075161-1339022818913341494?l=taleofriibu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/feeds/1339022818913341494/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4045107808097075161&amp;postID=1339022818913341494' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/1339022818913341494'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/1339022818913341494'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/2010/03/on-moving.html' title='On Moving'/><author><name>Riibu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12372608887367344873</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045107808097075161.post-2167262546379042667</id><published>2009-11-01T18:30:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2009-11-01T18:38:27.299+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nano'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daily'/><title type='text'>I should just name this my NaNo blog</title><content type='html'>or something like that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's Nov 1st, around 6.30pm and I've just realised that I should have prepared a little better to the start of Nano. Mainly, I should have prepared. In the previous weeks I figured, 'oh, I'll write something I know, I've done it four times, I can do it easily now', and you know I probably can. Only not easily. And I really don't feel like starting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I almost forgot it started today, too. My mother greets me sometime during the day (as I wake up late late late), that she's already started and how much have I got. I am still going to do this nano-thing, right? Have I changed my mind? I didn't answer much. I was kind of surprised I'd manage to forget I was supposed to be excited about getting to write.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was excited yesterday. But then I started reading the Watchmen comics and time just sort of took off somewhere without letting me know it was kind of late, before it was 2am and I was dead tired. And that's how I missed my first hours of my fifth year of doing Nano.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well. I'll start a little later on. I mean, I know I can do this, so I don't have to worry. Eventually.. and onwards to yet another victory. Maybe if I tried to care more, the actual work would seem a lot more exciting. Maybe I should...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, the stories' have got to come out eventually. I know I'll find my treasures in there somewhere. And I'll love them no matter what.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;With that, here's to another NaNoWriMo and a heap of good luck and inspiration to all other participants!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4045107808097075161-2167262546379042667?l=taleofriibu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/feeds/2167262546379042667/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4045107808097075161&amp;postID=2167262546379042667' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/2167262546379042667'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/2167262546379042667'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/2009/11/i-should-just-name-this-my-nano-blog.html' title='I should just name this my NaNo blog'/><author><name>Riibu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12372608887367344873</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045107808097075161.post-2373678080792935000</id><published>2009-02-09T22:22:00.001+02:00</published><updated>2009-02-09T22:23:18.143+02:00</updated><title type='text'>I drew a flower amongst</title><content type='html'>On some days I feel a little better. On some days I feel little insaner than before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder what's wrong with me?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4045107808097075161-2373678080792935000?l=taleofriibu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/feeds/2373678080792935000/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4045107808097075161&amp;postID=2373678080792935000' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/2373678080792935000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/2373678080792935000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/2009/02/i-drew-flower-amongst.html' title='I drew a flower amongst'/><author><name>Riibu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12372608887367344873</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045107808097075161.post-154131992046461912</id><published>2008-12-22T18:16:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-12-22T18:17:26.335+02:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Sick, siiick... Stomach flu, you are the enemy!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4045107808097075161-154131992046461912?l=taleofriibu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/feeds/154131992046461912/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4045107808097075161&amp;postID=154131992046461912' title='1 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/154131992046461912'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/154131992046461912'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/2008/12/sick-siiick.html' title=''/><author><name>Riibu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12372608887367344873</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045107808097075161.post-5426108972671371931</id><published>2008-11-29T23:34:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-11-29T23:42:38.900+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nano'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drama'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Finished NaNo for this year. Well, finish and finish, got to 50k words all right, but the story didn't even start. I did get scene in with Gwen thinking over the disaster that's been her life so far. Also, sadness because her hero of a brother got killed and left behind, even though he's a prince. Suckness for that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I am done. Perhaps forever. I don't think I can do NaNo ever again, it's just too painful, especially with stories I don't know well enough, or care enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I said the same thing last year, and look at me now. A winner, technically. Can't even get the bloody certificate to work on my old old version of Adobe Reader or whatever... So, have to download a new version, except first I have to register and give'em all sorts of groovy information about myself (and my bank account at some point, I'm sure), and then.. then I have to verify my email address twice, cos I guess they just like being dicks, and then they further ram that fact in by insisting I download an Adobe Download Manager, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;before&lt;/span&gt; I can finally get the bloody trial blah blah version of Acrobat 9.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pahhhhh! -_-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, it is taking forever. This is so wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also also, while being away today, and after returning home, I find out that there has been evil things going on in our computers. For about two weeks mine and my mother's computers have been remotely controlled, apparently, because there was a lacking password somewhere, but my brother has apparently fixed this. Which is good, because now F-Secure can actually update again, which it has been unable to do. Suckness, but I thought nothing of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More suckness for the fuckers trying to steal out stuff - we gots nothing to take! Haha! The joke's on you, nowgodieplz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway... I need to rest now. Sleep is calling for me. And I want to drop on its arms and let it heal me forever... ~_~&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4045107808097075161-5426108972671371931?l=taleofriibu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/feeds/5426108972671371931/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4045107808097075161&amp;postID=5426108972671371931' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/5426108972671371931'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/5426108972671371931'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/2008/11/finished-nano-for-this-year.html' title=''/><author><name>Riibu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12372608887367344873</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045107808097075161.post-1087895473243217603</id><published>2008-11-28T22:33:00.005+02:00</published><updated>2008-11-28T22:48:55.637+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='apathy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drama'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So tired... For the past few weeks I've been exhausted all the time - &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;all the damn time&lt;/span&gt;... Mostly because of school and all its works piling up, being late, making mistakes, not understanding enough, not &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;doing&lt;/span&gt; enough.. but also with the added stress of NaNo. This November has been almost nothing but hell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've kept up with writing; why? It doesn't really help me in any way in any direction. I haven't even really written the story I was supposed to, I'm doing much the same thing as last year, writing about the histories of different characters. Yes, in story form, but they're not in any way part of the &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;actual&lt;/span&gt; story. Admitted, I've found a lot of fun things about them, and interesting events, but still...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could've used all that time to sleep a little more, not be late so often, and actually get things done on time for once. And now I've gone and dragged my partner to the same lateness mess with &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;my&lt;/span&gt; mess-ups. She had her personal work ready like over a week ago, I'm barely midway. And the customer job we're doing? She's done most of it. I don't even know what the hell I've been doing, but it feels like I've done nothing, and she just slaves away. I mean, honestly, what gives? Why am I so slow?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel so useless sometimes! Got nothing worth giving that someone else doesn't have (and more and better), got no words to say that wouldn't come out wrong, got no sense of morality or backbone to kick me through things. Got nothing. Just.. nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just so goddamn tired I want to.. I don't know, kick someone. Maybe myself, if I had the energy. And so apathetic. I think I'm lying to everyone all the time, looking cheery and assuring them that yes, I love life and working and giving my time for others, and at that moment I usually believe myself too.. but afterwardS? I just couldn't care less about other people. I'm too busy moping about my own sad little life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's why I leave my room. I have to. I'd kill myself if I just sat here every day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I know that that wouldn't &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; fix anything in the end.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4045107808097075161-1087895473243217603?l=taleofriibu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/feeds/1087895473243217603/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4045107808097075161&amp;postID=1087895473243217603' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/1087895473243217603'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/1087895473243217603'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/2008/11/so-tired.html' title=''/><author><name>Riibu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12372608887367344873</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045107808097075161.post-8329677620695003527</id><published>2008-11-23T22:55:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-11-23T23:03:49.669+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nano'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drama'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>A quickie about NaNo. I wrote little over 1000 words, which got me above today's quota, just. I don't really know what's going to happen next, anyway. I wrote a little dialogue between two nothern clan leaders, but that didn't really go anywhere, and then I went with finding out about Adoun. Okay, so he gets dumped at a church, and gets totally taken in by god's grace, because this priest guy wasn't even going to check the place, but did go because he had a 'feeling'. And then there was a baby! And now he's a kid, and apparently his 'uncle' shows up to claim him or something, but everyone has a bit of an odd feeling about him. And I really doubt he's Adoun's uncle. The guy does claim to know why Adoun was named like he was, and get this: turns out, that there was a note with him, asking only that he be named Adoun Jiverge (say it with a French accent!) and nothing else. Well! I think he might be making it up, though, but the priest just left to go and get him while little Adoun waits with mixed feelings. And I'll be continuing from that tomorrow...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, my brother, I guess, is angry at me because I don't spend time with my father. Because I was away in another town for the night. Because my class had organised a small dinner, afterwards three of us went to a friend and watched a movie. My my! Then we talked and giggled and laughed, and slept. And then we watched two movies more. Heavens!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, yesterday &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;was&lt;/span&gt; a lot of fun, and most of today too. Well, you know, except until my brother tells me off. He has a point, but is very bad at getting them out. Ends up being a jerk, which of course doesn't work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, jerk's behaviour isn't the best way to get me to make compromises.. :\&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4045107808097075161-8329677620695003527?l=taleofriibu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/feeds/8329677620695003527/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4045107808097075161&amp;postID=8329677620695003527' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/8329677620695003527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/8329677620695003527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/2008/11/quickie-about-nano.html' title=''/><author><name>Riibu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12372608887367344873</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045107808097075161.post-4796617362036497134</id><published>2008-11-21T23:47:00.007+02:00</published><updated>2008-11-22T00:01:13.197+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nano'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So, now I've got Leofric and Astrid together, and married. Time to take a detour around the other countries in the world. My first craving was towards west, because it's so much and much unexplored plot land. I've come up with names for some of the countries, but not all of them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One somewhat minor character comes from Sarga, which is below Wull, which are west from Delunia, which is directly west from Aylee. I've named him Adoun Jiverge (say it with a french accent!), and he's to be the bishop of Aylee's church for the time that Leofric lives, and till Gwen is born. He's old enough and dies at 80 something before Godrick's birth. Basically, he's an orphan, given to a church to be taken care of, and he goes into a monastery at a young age, then leaves with an older brother/father as a teen to go and teach the Aylee about the western faith. And then follows some more history.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm just curious, because for all the time I've ever thought about the kingdom story, my focus has always been mostly just Aylee. When I started planning more for this, this year, I started to find out that the world is a LOT bigger than just Aylee and Alsoth. It's got a while sphere of lands! Most of them don't feature in anyway in the story, because some are so forgotten, that people don't even know they exist. But they sort of do in my mind, which is the cool part.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's what I want to find out next, before getting into the birth of Garrick and what happens to him and etc.. I want to figure out what kind of nations the western kingdoms are, and the southern empire, and the northern clans too. And even Alsoth, because it's bit of a mystery as well! It all is! And it's so much fun! ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, a bit of an update. At 37406 words now, and my nano progress report is claiming it's not a good amount. Keeps showing me red for my wordcount, even though it's above &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;tomorrow's&lt;/span&gt; quota! Hmh. I wrote about 1100 and something words just now, and am calling it a night. I doubt I'll be able to write anything tomorrow, because I'll be gone all day, and even spending the night elsewhere. Suck much? Not really, I've good friend company. :) And I'm sure I'll have time to write on sunday, in the evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... now was there something else I meant to say before I fall asleep...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh yes. Kid, from a previous post? Well, Kid said to me yesterday that they aren't annoyed at me anymore, which is good. I think we can try and talk again. I just wish I knew what threw Kid off me, and what exactly made Kid change their mind.. Maybe I'll find out tomorrow. I'm kind of curious. But also with a bit of dread. :\&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4045107808097075161-4796617362036497134?l=taleofriibu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/feeds/4796617362036497134/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4045107808097075161&amp;postID=4796617362036497134' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/4796617362036497134'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/4796617362036497134'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/2008/11/so-now-ive-got-leofric-and-astrid.html' title=''/><author><name>Riibu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12372608887367344873</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045107808097075161.post-2509371612111947481</id><published>2008-11-19T22:10:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T22:23:39.659+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nano'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Back on track with the writing. Now at 31715 words, today's goal is supposed to be 31673 words, exactly. So, I caught up! Which is needed, because it's looking like I won't be doing any writing on saturday, so I'ma gonna need to try and get ahead again. Oh well. :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's an interesting scene, surprising me. You see, Loftva has just been made a lieutenant, and the guy who originally enlisted him, lieutenant-ambassador Callach, now just a senior lieutenant without the ambassador's sash, is also there and they've gone away to talk about the good ol' days (Loftva's barely below thirty, Callach like forty or something), and blah blah, dialogue happens. Then the king comes in and I realise that Callach is going to try and kill Leofric (the king!). And I don't know why. I mean, what's his reasoning? We may never find out. But he tries anyway. He's seemingly drunk now, but Loftva's not easily fooled. See, he's smart enough to see behind Callach' fake drunkenness, he just has no idea why he's doing that. Mostly because all they've had is some warmed, maybe a little spiced wine, and because Callach is an ambassador he ought to be able to take a lot more before coming inebriated, because they drink well enough in the south too. So, yeah, Loftva is suspicious, even when he's seemingly completely focusing on his talk with the king, who's just sort of standing there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, (this is going to happen next and I shall go and write it..) suddenly Callach jumps, pulls out a knife, without a word tries to lunge at the kind, who barely has time to go 'huh? When Loftva is already smashing his wine goblet at Callach, who probably gets the drink in his eyes, and has to close'em, which gives Loftva just enough time to grab the hand, and the knife, and throw him to the floor. And then the king reacts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something like that anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wonder why Callach does it, though. I really thought he was a good guy! :\&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wait, there was something else... oh yeah. I'm sick with a flu. Oh, well a cough now, just. But it started with an achey throat, which turned into cough, and now it's been almost a week. So annoying. &gt;:\ But I'm still rewarding my caughting upness with chocolate, and that's that. Also, a widget widget, so the first one doesn't just drop down below...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.nanowrimo.org/NanowrimoUtils/NanowrimoGraph/86117.png"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4045107808097075161-2509371612111947481?l=taleofriibu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/feeds/2509371612111947481/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4045107808097075161&amp;postID=2509371612111947481' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/2509371612111947481'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/2509371612111947481'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/2008/11/back-on-track-with-writing.html' title=''/><author><name>Riibu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12372608887367344873</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045107808097075161.post-1776560906618363073</id><published>2008-11-16T01:03:00.007+02:00</published><updated>2008-11-16T01:09:49.356+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nano'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Hah, my writing's been awfully irregular. The widget thing keeps giving red to me for almost all the days... And I'm late with my word count too. I did write a long scene about one of the characters killing a huge bear, and saving the lives of potentially four people. Two horses got killed though, oh dear. And one of the men did lose his other men, but it was his left, and he's right handed, so he'll probably pull through. No more using a bow though. Or real fighting, I think. He might be put into a teaching position, where he gets to shout and beat young enlistees. :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm at.. 21870 words, today is needed 26672 words. That was from 17k and some. I started writing about 10pm, late, but I got home late too. And made, what, close to four thousand words or something, in pretty much just one scene. It was a pretty big one, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now Loftva's finally getting in to the actual army. He survives a bunch of battles, proves himself, gets better at fighting and generally hardens. Then, what, he gets some kind of promotion, I think pretty quickly, maybe... Then, it's time for all kinds of fun stuff, as he finally gets his life saved by someone else, that being the young young king of Aylee, Leofric. And then they get to fight together and become friends, before Leofric discovers girls. :P Well, he'll be like twenty something by then, so it's high time. Loftva becomes more and more serious as he grows older. He gets into the old guy grumpy state in about age forty. And then it's like twenty years of that. No wonder Garrick will grow up to become a little serious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh dear. So much to write...!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4045107808097075161-1776560906618363073?l=taleofriibu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/feeds/1776560906618363073/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4045107808097075161&amp;postID=1776560906618363073' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/1776560906618363073'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/1776560906618363073'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/2008/11/hah-my-writings-been-awfully-irregular.html' title=''/><author><name>Riibu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12372608887367344873</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045107808097075161.post-7450753517140823349</id><published>2008-11-01T01:05:00.008+02:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T02:07:23.661+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='nano'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'>grr</title><content type='html'>Darn blogger refuses to accept my NaNo widget, so I'll put it up here...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://www.nanowrimo.org/NanowrimoUtils/MyMonth/86117-pc-days.png"&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4045107808097075161-7450753517140823349?l=taleofriibu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/feeds/7450753517140823349/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4045107808097075161&amp;postID=7450753517140823349' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/7450753517140823349'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/7450753517140823349'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/2008/11/grr.html' title='grr'/><author><name>Riibu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12372608887367344873</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045107808097075161.post-8053430815315691340</id><published>2008-10-31T23:08:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-11-01T00:01:23.086+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drama'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So... NaNo's starting in a little less than an hour. I figure, since I will be busy and gone away for most of tomorrow (and the day after that, and the days after that...) I best start at midnight and get at least some writing done. No idea how this month'll go on, but I hope. That's all I can do, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, that and write, obviously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But since it is not yet Nov 1st over here, I have to come up with something to spend that time. Guess what? Time for a blogpost! There's a couply of things I've been meaning to write out...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The biggest problematic thing right now concerns a person I know. Sometime early this year something happened - I'm not sure what exactly - and it caused a rift between me and this person. Let's call this person .. Kid, for simplicity's sake. Try not to read into it too much. I didn't at first know there was a rift in existence (or deepening), mostly because I've never had anything against Kid, and still don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Kid was pretty darn busy with this project, about rococo outfits along with another friend. Together they were fretting about fabrics, fabric colours and all kinds of things, how they had to get schoolwork done, when they'd manage to work on their outfits, getting all of them done in time, because they were supposed to have them for photo shoots and all sorts of other things that life usually throws at us. Mostly because of that I tried to leave them alone some, give'em both space and time to hassle their stuff, because, well.. I didn't really have pressing things to talk with them. You know, nothing that couldn't have waited until the train ride back home, because Kid shared my route almost exactly. Kid leaves off at a station just before mine, so we'd sat together a bunch of times, chatting about stuff. I'll let you know we were never the best of friends (I haven't many of those, being rather shy and reserved by nature).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It took me time until I started wondering if everything was alright, because Kid didn't come to speak to me any either. I thought "Well, Kid's busy, oh well", and no more. But Kid did speak to other friends. I wasn't entirely sure whether Kid was singling me out or not, so I tried not to concern myself. But then a couple of times I noticed Kid walked briskly either well ahead of me, or well behind me and went to sit in a different carriage then I. I admit, when Kid went first I didn't try following, because I wasn't sure whether Kid was annoyed at me or not, and conflict situations scare the heck out of me. I avoid them as best as I can, and that's one of the biggest reasons I thought the whole not-talking-to-each-other was just a huge misunderstanding. I thought, maybe Kid thinks I'm mad at him or something, when it was really the other way around, or was it...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then the first year ended and we still weren't talking to each other. I once asked some mutual friends about Kid; was Kid perhaps mad at me or something..? But they said they didn't know, and I should just talk to Kid. But I didn't - I didn't want to cause a fight, where things that should never be said might get said. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This fall, nothing changed. I still didn't talk to Kid, and vice versa. By now I was pretty sure something was wrong, and more than just a misunderstanding. But I still had no idea what exactly was the problem and what I could do about it (if anything). Kid had finished the rococo project along with our friend and their end results ended up pretty damn cool (and pretty!). I visited Kid's devArt page every now and then to see the photos, mostly out of interest and curiosity. I wanted to ask Kid about them some, to show that I had nothing against Kid, and hey, couldn't we talk some, you know, this is your work, I like it, tell me more... But I shied away. (I know, I know!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Before the start of the second term, a friend gave me and the other rococo making friend a ride to a little further than just the usual train station (she's cool like that!). During the ride I talked some to the other friend, making some jokes. Now that I think back (and in the light of some other things), I see that I must have sounded very rude. I by no means meant to insult the other friend, although I can see that my words could've sounded bad. I'm sorry about that now, but didn't actually realise that (I thought the other friend understood my meaning, but misunderstandings happen :\ ), until...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came home, checked my devArt page and found I'd gotten a note from Kid. Well, Kid had finally decided to open up and let me know Kid despises me for my rude and arrogant nature, that I'd been treating Kid badly and haughtily since before school (we were in the same workshop before we got in), that I'd been critisizing Kid's works, looks, English skills and just generally acted like I was better than Kid and that I had no right to do that, and that that made me seem to Kid as a lonely, viscious-minded individual who's lived her life making others feel bad, and for those reasons Kid saw no reason to ever talk to me. Ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's just say I was more than just a little crushed to find this out. I certainly wasn't expecting that much anger and I had honestly no idea where it had come from, and how ever it could have come from such a long time period. If I'd been so terrible all along (and apparently detested by everyone at workshop too), why did Kid talk to me in the first place? After a moment of gathering myself back together I texted the other friend, apologising; I didn't mean to insult, I was just joking - very badly, I saw now. My bad. It took a day or two until I managed to write a response to Kid, but I don't know if Kid ever even read it. Because Kid's still not talking to me. Actually, Kid's acting like nothing ever happened, just like Kid always acted during all this time. But occasionally, the two of them avoid our group in the luncheteria (is that even a real word?), and they go sit at a different table together. I don't know if it's because Kid doesn't want to sit in the same table as me (or anywhere near me), but I hope that's not it, because it would be somewhat childish. And Kid's my age, too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is, we have differences of opinions, and even beliefs. I guess those are that makes Kid dislike me. I don't know - this is just my speculation - but perhaps Kid dislikes me so, because Kid has had a past of having religion stuffed down on Kid, and because I'm religious (with unpopular beliefs), Kid sees me as just the continuation of all those times Kid was forced to repress themself, and just can't see the real me? If Kid always chooses to see my words and actions in a bad light, Kid's bound to hate me for sure. That's what misunderstandings are, in the end. Things get said, someone interprets them differently. If they're chosen to be interpreted badly ("surely he/she meant &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;this&lt;/span&gt; about me, how dare they, like they know anything, they're always saying stuff like that, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;always&lt;/span&gt;"), then is it really a surprise when relationships go sour?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well. There's two things I can do and they haven't changed since Kid stopped paying me any attention. I can either confront Kid somehow, ask things, just try to have a conversation or anything - or... Ignore Kid like Kid ignores me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess that's the easiest way out. Not that it's good. I feel it's a bit of a sore point in our class, but very minor. I doubt most have even noticed. There are bigger problems in our class, which I won't get into now. I just hope things didn't end up like they did. I mean, did Kid really have to wait until the last straw to chew me out? Maybe Kid doesn't like confrontations either. I mean, who really knows the mind of another? I sure don't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I sure as hell have never been arrogant. With my past of passive aggressive depression I sure have never thought myself better either. I'm just bloody shy, I curl inside my shell, because it's so much easier right there and then, if not in the long run. I know I have faults - &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm just human for crying out loud!&lt;/span&gt; I can't exactly work on my problems if no one ever informs me I have some that piss them off. Communication is the key - but I will not force that down Kid's throat if it's easier for Kid to just sullenly not ever, ever talk to me ever again. Ever.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yay, social drama. Ugh...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4045107808097075161-8053430815315691340?l=taleofriibu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/feeds/8053430815315691340/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4045107808097075161&amp;postID=8053430815315691340' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/8053430815315691340'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/8053430815315691340'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/2008/10/so.html' title=''/><author><name>Riibu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12372608887367344873</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045107808097075161.post-8733953005709929454</id><published>2008-08-27T23:49:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-08-27T23:54:05.586+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cleaning'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poem'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'>Vanha runo</title><content type='html'>Siivouksen aikana löytää vanhoja helmiä. Tämä on hetken inspiraatiosta seurannut surrealistinen pieni pätkä. Tai jotain sinne päin. Muistan että silloin alunperin olin hirveän ylpeä tästä. :) Eipä se yhtään huonolta vaikuta... ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;Keskipäivän kuupiirakkaa,&lt;br /&gt;maukasta,&lt;br /&gt;Kuupensaiden puolukoista,&lt;br /&gt;pihlajoista, ruutanoista.&lt;br /&gt;Siitä menestys kevätpirtin syksyjuhliin,&lt;br /&gt;siitä,&lt;br /&gt;Ja pienistä tossuista isoilla käsillä.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4045107808097075161-8733953005709929454?l=taleofriibu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/feeds/8733953005709929454/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4045107808097075161&amp;postID=8733953005709929454' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/8733953005709929454'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/8733953005709929454'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/2008/08/vanha-runo.html' title='Vanha runo'/><author><name>Riibu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12372608887367344873</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045107808097075161.post-9004962156767139962</id><published>2008-07-11T08:28:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-07-11T08:32:29.765+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='quiz'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;Your result for The Attachment Style Test...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;h4&gt;The Exile&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;p&gt;53% Anxiety Over Abandonment and 58% Avoidance Of Intimacy&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;img src="http://cdn.okcimg.com/php/load_okc_image.php/images/0x0/0x0/0/9192593006505547394.jpeg" height="171" width="200" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;                       &lt;div&gt;&lt;p&gt;You are uncomfortable getting close to others. You want emotionally close relationships, but you find it difficult to trust others completely. You feel that people don't fully understand you, and to be honest you're not certain you fully understand yourself. You never wanted it to happen, but now you're an outcast and you're resigned to your fate. They think you're not good enough? Well, you figure, maybe that's true. You don't need them, anyway.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Fictional character with whom you might identify: Elphaba (Wicked), Smeagol/Gollum (The Lord of the Rings)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img src="http://i193.photobucket.com/albums/z112/sylvierde/Smeagol.jpg" alt="Smeagol.jpg" /&gt; &lt;img src="http://i193.photobucket.com/albums/z112/sylvierde/Elphaba.jpg" alt="Elphaba.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.helloquizzy.com/tests/the-attachment-style-test"&gt;Take The Attachment Style Test&lt;/a&gt; at &lt;a href="http://www.helloquizzy.com/"&gt;&lt;b style="color:#131313"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ac000c"&gt;H&lt;/span&gt;ello&lt;span style="color:#ac000c"&gt;Q&lt;/span&gt;uizzy&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4045107808097075161-9004962156767139962?l=taleofriibu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/feeds/9004962156767139962/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4045107808097075161&amp;postID=9004962156767139962' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/9004962156767139962'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/9004962156767139962'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/2008/07/your-result-for-attachment-style-test.html' title=''/><author><name>Riibu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12372608887367344873</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045107808097075161.post-643499488316936152</id><published>2008-06-26T03:30:00.002+03:00</published><updated>2008-06-26T03:33:27.570+03:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='original'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='story'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'>A prelude, or something</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;In the beginning there wasn’t even a void. There were thoughts. Multiple, small thoughts, going round and round each other, sometimes through. They were barely separate.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;In time (if such existed) the thoughts grew clearer and larger. More complex. A thought suddenly connected with itself and realised it was a being. It existed.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;A thought became a being. The being observed itself, its surroundings (or lack of) and the other thoughts. It touched a thought, which understood and became a being. They studied each other. The first being reached out, young and uncertain. The second being reached out, and the two beings touched.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;The beings thought, and shared thoughts. They understood that they were different now. Before, everything had been one and the same, in different parts, but the same. Now they were something else. They could touch, but they could not merge to become one.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;The second being asked about this from the first being, but it did not know an answer. Curiously, they decided to draw one more thought into them, and both reached out, like one, linked to each other. A large thought twisted around itself and became a being, full of wonder. It joined the two others. The beings quieted down, pushed close to each other and wondered.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;They searched their existence, trying to find a link to that something that had changed the first one. And eventually, the first being found it. Drawing the other two beings close it concentrated to move through their existence, to go where the channge had come. The second and third being helped the first, and they broke through, leaving the thoughts behind. A fine nonexistant thread still connected them to the thoughts, who were beginning to notice a difference.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;The beings floated in a void, without body or mass, invisible. All around them was emptiness, and far away for physical things there were lights, stars, planets. The void wasn’t anything, not dark or light and they were used to it. But what they saw in the void...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;The two younger beings huddled closer to the first one, who merely felt curiosity. They could see a world. A blue and green ball, where they could feel so many thoughts. But these thoughts were so different, so strange. The thoughts of this world were not the one, not the same, but each separate and complex, more even than what they had became.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;The first being went closer, the younger ones reluctantly following it. At the edge of the surrounding layer of protection of the world, they paused. Maintaining a link, they let go of each other, and dove into the world, one at a time.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;The first being saw a human and was amazed. It looked at humans. It followed them, reading them, listening to them. The humans were incredible. Slowly, the first being began to change. It grew a shape. Were once it had touched the other beings with just a thought, it now had hands. Were once it had just floated, it grew legs. Were its mind was, it had a face. A woman smiled and walked along the humans, learning.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;The second being saw a tree and was amazed. It looked at trees, it touched them, listened to them. The trees were incredible. The second being also began to change, growing roots, gaining branches, flowing with inner sap and energy. The being went into a tree, moving from root to root, flowing along the trees, learning.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;The third being was most uncertain. It could feel the other two changing, but was reluctant to follow them. It delved deeper and deeper into the very core of the world, seeking its life. The third being saw the core and was amazed. The sheer power it felt within the core enveloped the being, and it simply stayed there, feeling everything. The third being began to change. It did not grow a shape, but took some of the power from around itself and molded itself.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;Eventually, if time had ever passed for them, the beings decided they had learned enough and wished to share their experiences with each other. They went to each other and touched.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;The first being excitedly gave all that she had. The second being laughed and took the shape of a woman as well. The third being smiled and took the shape of a man. The second being was eager to share and slowly let the other two know of trees and all that made the plants be, their existence together. The first and the third being were impressed. Then the third being smiled, closed its eyes and shared some of its power it had taken from the core to the other two.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;They were all satisfied to understand that they had become even more than ever before. A realisation came to each of them at the same time and they spoke for the first time.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;“&lt;i style=""&gt;Life!&lt;/i&gt;” each whispered.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;“I am”, the first being said quietly, smiling with wonder.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;“I am”, the second being said as well, turning to smile to the first one.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;“I am”, the third being nodded, content.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;“I am... happy”, the second said.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;“Yes”, the third said. “We are happy.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;“We have come far”, the first then said.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;“Where will we go then?” the second asked.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;“Shall we go and learn more?” the third asked eagerly. The first being pondered.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;“We have learned much. We know of all that life is. This world has taught us everything we need.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;“But we could go and take more”, the third said, but this was not met with enthusiasm.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;“We should not take too much, lest we destroy the life”, the first said.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;“We should make it grow instead”, the second said.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;“But it already grows just fine on its own there. They don’t need us”, the third pointed out.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;“Yes. This world is not for us. It has taught us, so now we must go and make life elsewhere”, the first said. The other beings pondered this.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;“We will return to the thoughts?” the second asked.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;“We must make life, now. The other thoughts have surely learned from us, but we will be the ones with the power”, the first said.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;“And the shape”, the third said.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;“How different will we become?” the second asked, pulling the other two closer to her, suddenly a little afraid.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;“Very different. But it will be good. We will never be completely apart”, the first being said in comforting tones.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;“We are united one with all we have learned, away from each other, but together”, the third said.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-US"&gt;“We exist separate”, the first one whispered. “And we always will.” They looked at each other, but relaxed as the first one smiled. Then they cast a farewell look and a thought to the world, which was oblivious to their existence, and left.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4045107808097075161-643499488316936152?l=taleofriibu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/feeds/643499488316936152/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4045107808097075161&amp;postID=643499488316936152' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/643499488316936152'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/643499488316936152'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/2008/06/prelude-or-something.html' title='A prelude, or something'/><author><name>Riibu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12372608887367344873</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045107808097075161.post-3269477292051038392</id><published>2008-06-04T18:30:00.003+03:00</published><updated>2008-06-04T18:31:25.548+03:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Rejoice, for thy salvation is at hand!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My computer's been fixed, hopefully I'll encounter as small amount of insignificant bugs as possible. With all possible thanks to my uncle who spend his time some and made an effort.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4045107808097075161-3269477292051038392?l=taleofriibu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/feeds/3269477292051038392/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4045107808097075161&amp;postID=3269477292051038392' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/3269477292051038392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/3269477292051038392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/2008/06/rejoice-for-thy-salvation-is-at-hand-my.html' title=''/><author><name>Riibu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12372608887367344873</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045107808097075161.post-4233189491900085153</id><published>2008-02-22T14:47:00.002+02:00</published><updated>2008-02-22T14:51:29.169+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='food'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>Today, when I was preparing to do some cooking, I took a knife, a bell pepper (or a red pepper) and sliced it in half.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The inside was partially blackened and there seemed to be some kind of dark brown, small slug like bug there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn't moving, but I was nonetheless thoroughly disgusted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm still hungry, but also still disgusted. &gt;_&lt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4045107808097075161-4233189491900085153?l=taleofriibu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/feeds/4233189491900085153/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4045107808097075161&amp;postID=4233189491900085153' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/4233189491900085153'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/4233189491900085153'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/2008/02/today-when-i-was-preparing-to-do-some.html' title=''/><author><name>Riibu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12372608887367344873</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045107808097075161.post-4691894045780753178</id><published>2008-02-20T17:26:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-02-20T22:12:31.483+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I understand that there are different ways to handle grief and sorrow. When my grandmother from father's side died, I didn't know how I was supposed to feel, because she was the first person close to pass away. And even though it had been some years since she and I had been.. well, close is as a good as any, like a grandchildren and grandmother can be, mostly because of her illness and my own unsocial ways. But then I get a call from my father, and... she'd been in the hospital for a while, and I'd disliked visiting her because I couldn't stand to see her like that..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But you know, I was sad about it for maybe, five minutes. And then I stopped thinking about it. I don't mean the matter itself stopped being important, but that I literally refused to think about it. I just didn't, and then I didn't feel sad anymore. Occasionally, when I do bring to mind memories, I get sad, but I put all those feelings away again. And I'm not sure if that's the best way to go about these kind of things. I don't feel any way repressed, rather than embarrassed. I'm afraid I'm going hurt someone else, who's maybe more, well, vocal or &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;feeling&lt;/span&gt; about their emotions by being seemingly cold and uncaring. Not that it was any kind of a problem in her funeral, I was plenty sad then. But I can't help but wonder if part of that sadness, that crying, was just me in a way reacting to the feelings of everyone else, not myself over her passing. Because I think back and I just can't be sure...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The idea is a bit uncomfortable. I don't want to think I'm a hollow person, but just that I deal with grief in a way, that's... I don't know. Block it away, let it simmer down to a simple thought, a feeling so light it only barely touches the inner me. And when I occasionally think back on everything, all I feel is slight discomfort over the fact that I'm &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not&lt;/span&gt; crying my eyes out because my family member died, or an old friend, or an acquaintance. It does feel terribly cold. But I don't know what else I should do. Even, do I need to do anything else?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All this because, I got a call from a friend today, telling me that our mutual friend has passed away. It was expected, in a way. She'd had cancer for a long while now, and none of the treatments really stopped it in a way. And yet I feel like everything just happened so quickly. I mean, she was still alive just last week, and now she's gone. How does that happen? Suddenly, out of the blue, the flame of life in someone just.. goes out. A horrible thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The positive side is she didn't die suffering. It was peaceful, like falling asleep, never waking up. I'm sure my friend is more shaken about it, than I am. They were closer, afterall. Me and her, well, we'd shared more time together in the past, not so much these days. I'm not sure if I'm going to feel greatly sad now, or maybe a little later.. Or ever. The feelings are there, but .. am I going to let myself wonder over them, or just ignore all that and go about my life like nothing ever happened? Most likely the latter.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to tell my friend that, though. As understanding as she is, I doubt she'd quite be okay with that. And I'd rather she be at peace from any exra grievances from me. She's had enough with everything else going on in her life as it is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Joten... Jos sinua muistelen, Hilu, Helena, muistan kaipauksella. Mikäli se hyväksi nähdään, tavataan taas paratiisissa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4045107808097075161-4691894045780753178?l=taleofriibu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/feeds/4691894045780753178/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4045107808097075161&amp;postID=4691894045780753178' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/4691894045780753178'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/4691894045780753178'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-understand-that-there-are-different.html' title=''/><author><name>Riibu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12372608887367344873</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045107808097075161.post-5534214278046055192</id><published>2008-02-15T23:49:00.003+02:00</published><updated>2008-02-16T00:07:54.794+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daily'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I complained I don't do any writing anymore, but I suppose that might be because my creative powers have shifted to a different position, different matters. Unfortunately, it's school. Currently I'm supposed to be making, what, five or six pictures of different kinds of dresses, for separate purposes. Since today we didn't have school at all (the teacher being absent), but because we have to make up for the lost hours by doing a .. well, kind of study of clothing through history. Everyone got to choose a time period, beginning from biblic times all the way to like.. fifties, I think. Although some people insisted they get to pick 80's, or 70's, and the teacher gave in. Because ten years is already, like &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sooo&lt;/span&gt; history. Anyway, I got me some medieval themes. Late medieval, in fact,gothic period. 1200-1480, latest. We have to write one page, I don't know, describing the usual type of clothing that was worn during the time and draw one picture with suitable clothing in it (with a person inside). Not too bad, I rather like the dresses nobility wore back then. Second picture is just general work for school, for the jacket I'm working on (and with which I'm still late). A fashion picture, which is a standard part of all our works. The three of four are supposed to be of different kinds of women's jackets and are for missing hours on another class. Since I got the assigment, I was absent from that class one more time, so I'm not sure if I have to do one more, or just the three I was meant to do originally. Of course, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;these&lt;/span&gt; were supposed to have been turned in by this week. I haven't even started yet. And next week's holiday, so... Yes, I have problems. But why not just draw the damn pictures then? It can't be so hard... Well, no, if one even partly likes drawing. And I don't enjoy it one bit. &gt;.&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other creative news... I've somehow got into my mind I can make pretty jewellery and wish to make some pretty headdresses/bands/tiaras or whatevers for a couple of friends at school. I'm lacking equipment though, not to mention all necessary stuff for making them at all. I've been trying to think up some good way on how to make them, but haven't really advanced anywhere yet. I'm still sort of hopeful though. Just need to get some money first. :\&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still about creativity: I don't want to write in English right now. Well, not stories. I've got an itch to get some Finnish writing going on and I like the idea. I just have no idea what to write. There's the.. Spirit Times? Henkiajat, story of four, 4n_tarina, that is, the first NaNo story I ever did. I could start rewriting that, but the idea just doesn't draw to me. Part of me wants to start working on the Underworld one, part of me insists I focus on TMC (because it has most potential right now, perhaps), and a part of me is lusting after some hot Mary Sue-filled fanfiction (*blushes*)... and, and... Heck, who knows, maybe even a whole &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;new&lt;/span&gt; story! But basically, the want is there, but the motivation has gone rampant on someone else. Can't certainly find any hiding near me. :\&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At least I did get some cleaning done in my room. Well, it was basically just one spot, but it looks a lot nicer now! Okay, so all the stuff on it ended up on my bed and because it's nighttime and I'm going to bed soon, all that stuff if just going to end up on the floor... But I'm sure I'll maybe do something about it in the morni- afternoon. Or something. I mean, I need my sleep. Don't I?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4045107808097075161-5534214278046055192?l=taleofriibu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/feeds/5534214278046055192/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4045107808097075161&amp;postID=5534214278046055192' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/5534214278046055192'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/5534214278046055192'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/2008/02/i-complained-i-dont-do-any-writing.html' title=''/><author><name>Riibu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12372608887367344873</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045107808097075161.post-315545560529592845</id><published>2008-02-11T20:21:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-02-11T20:50:17.565+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='school'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='writing'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>So, turns out I'm not much an everyday writer anymore. Not that I've ever really been. The only creative writing thing that's happened lately is my decision to try and continue TMC (Troll , Mermaid, Centaur). With that, as I've been having troubles with the first chapter of second part, where the heroes are supposed to meet a bunch of giant grasshoppers who advice them on a direction they ought to take, but I just haven't been able to get in on that. So, I pretty much decided that I'll just Hasu, the centaur, brighter than what he was originally supposed to be and skip the hopper scene entirely. I felt a bit more relaxed after that, but not entirely happy. I also wrote some practise dialogue in my notebook, but nothing bigger has happened yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, as per more of writing business, I'm not entirely sure I'll be wanting to do NaNo again this year. I enjoy it - &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;if&lt;/span&gt; - I know what I'm doing with the story. If I'm not sure where the characters are going, or what they're like, it's just overly painful to write. That is exactly what happened last November, and although I technically got to 50,000 words, I felt absolutely nothing good for it. The amount of words, well, that was all that I had left in my hands when I'd finished, and they were all pretty much useless. I don't want to put myself through something I can't even enjoy at &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;some point. &lt;/span&gt;And I've run out of stories I'm more or less enough familiar with. I have to know the story, at least some chapters before I do any actual writing, I have to be able to imagine in my mind. If I don't have that, I freeze. I'm not one of those writers who just 'let the characters lead', or 'go where the story goes'. Probably because if I just let go and write, it's going to be nothing but utter crap, and I'd rather write something I can pick through and find maybe one or two good points. Or even three, if I've been careful. :\&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also, it's no fun if you're doing it completely alone. &gt;.&lt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;School is stressing me out. I never sleep enough (*kicks the computer*), I have to wake up early just to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;be early&lt;/span&gt; (because I simply cannot come to school at the same time as everyone else, but half an hour before), and I'm literally late with my work. Currently, we are making a women's jacket. I'm making mine for my mother, one because I'd prefer to save my few droplets of income on something else, and two because they're not really my style anyway. Now, to make sure it fits, we need to make a prototype, fit that, make changes and possibly make a new prototype to see if it fits better with the changes. Currently, I have the parts on paper with some changes, but no.. hmm.. the ... dammit. Space, for the seams. The line... Argh. This is the bad side of getting through school faster. No language studies. Anyway, not quite everyone is ready to cut their fabrics, but most are a lot further than I am, and I'm still sure I'm going to end up changing the whole thing a second time. Jackets are tricky.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the shorter amount of time in school. Since I've already completed, well, high school's probably the closest, one upper secondary education, and since vocational is the same lever as high school, the only thing my class needs to study is the actual sewing and all that pattern studies thing. We don't get any math, languages, gym.. physics, chemistry, I think the ordinary class has to do one philosophy class too. Basically, everything my class has already done. So we don't get any of that now. Still... It doesn't really make much sense, because we are supposed to be able to talk about these things in English and Swedish and we certainly didn't cover these kind of particular words back in high school language classes. It's unfair I tell you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do wonder if I would be able to buy a work-based dictionary somewhere... :\ Mmm. I miss English studies.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now, since I can't think of more to write about, I guess I should go to bed then. Try and sleep some for once.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4045107808097075161-315545560529592845?l=taleofriibu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/feeds/315545560529592845/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4045107808097075161&amp;postID=315545560529592845' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/315545560529592845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/315545560529592845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/2008/02/so-turns-out-im-not-much-everyday.html' title=''/><author><name>Riibu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12372608887367344873</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4045107808097075161.post-5832961870416626975</id><published>2008-02-01T21:03:00.000+02:00</published><updated>2008-02-01T21:10:14.611+02:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='friends'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daily'/><title type='text'>A humble beginning</title><content type='html'>Basically, I got tired of Xanga. It just wasn't pretty enough, shame enough. Not that it was particularly bad to use, no. At least, it's layout was a lot more versatile, than this, and at least easier to change. You know, if you wanted to use something else than premade skins. Oh well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps I will manage to write more often, also. If I remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The thing is, not much really happens in my life. I go to school and I could talk about that, but most of the time it'd only be complaints and fun stuff like that, because I am an unpleasant and pessimistic person. Yesterday, I was pretty down because I didn't get enough attention a friend at school. You know, not that it was important that they were tired (not having slept at all in the previous night) and falling sick. It was just me, me, me, nobody likes me and surely they'll soon stop talking to me completely...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And honestly. Who wants to read that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;... Would anyone like to trade away overly powerful emotions? I got enough to share. Mostly bad ones. But you're still welcome to them.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4045107808097075161-5832961870416626975?l=taleofriibu.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/feeds/5832961870416626975/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4045107808097075161&amp;postID=5832961870416626975' title='2 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/5832961870416626975'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4045107808097075161/posts/default/5832961870416626975'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://taleofriibu.blogspot.com/2008/02/humble-beginning.html' title='A humble beginning'/><author><name>Riibu</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/12372608887367344873</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry></feed>
