Helsinik, Wednesday August 13th

Blah.

You get highlights, magic, cor and wow and gobstoppers. You get true people and exciting adventures and purrfume on sale and wonderful shopping and galleries and holding hands in exotic places and it's marvellous. And the weather shines and everything is sparkly and your feet don't hurt (or your nose).

And...

... you get days like these, where will all the best intentions, and surrounded by all the above, it's just shit.

I don't know why.

We slept in again, and had lovely fresh coffee again, and puddled around getting ready to go out for lunch while checking the webs ... but somewhere between waking refreshed, and leaving, we both went flat. We both ignored this fact, and went around the corner (literally about 2 buildings away) to the Helsinki Museum of Modern Art. We spent about 2 hours there, having lunch first and then looking quite closely through 4 floors of exhibitions. Some very bleak visions, especially the urban shots of emerging Soviet states. M quoted the national suicide statistics for Finland at me; not exactly the cheeriest nation in the world.

As we move through the galleries, I am intrigued by the art (and many video/photo/graphic mixed installations) - and kind of horrified by a video of a German 'Baby Box' - a place outside hospitals where a baby who can't be cared for, can be left safely if the mother must. There is a joint video screen - film of the mother walking to the hospital and then away, and film of the inside of the hospital room where the alarm sounds and the medical team come to take care of the baby. Quite, quite confronting.

I feel a little retail therapy is in order after this, but walking our legs off uphill to the Kamppi mall, finding various things we need, and getting back to the hotel is not possible without a blow-up. It's all HIS fault, of course. I'M not tired, bleary, sore, sinus-y and depressed. Not at all. I love seeing abandoned babies, rainy days, teenagers smoking their heads off everywhere, dirty bus stations and a sad 'Aussie' pub with fluoro-cheery signs outside.

While M made a crucial grog-shop stop, I pissed off into the 'Sorco' department store, which kind of leeches onto the side of our Sorco Hotel. There's a huge parfumerie on the ground floor, and there's a sale. Hurray. I know I don't need to do this, but I cruise the shelves, nothing much here I haven't seen.. some interesting things... hmm, that's a good price for that, I only have a sample bottle at home... oh well, hell, here's the Euros and away we go. I could say the devil made me do it, but I knew it was me really. I get all homesick when I see Lancome 'Miracle' on the shelf, reminds me of my sis, who likes to wear it. And hi sis! - I had a BLT the other night and it wasn't a patch on our Psycho lunches. Not even having it with a Bailey's coffee helped. Goes to show that Canberra has gourmet food to equal or better international city standards, eh?

I'm gonna stay here and dial-up a movie, while M goes out to a church concert. We need some time apart. I need to have a gin or two, do some knitting, and get a grrrip.

Today brought to you by mall eau de bus exhaust mixed with cinnamon bun; several rather nasty test shots of purrfumes (DON'T buy 'Flower Bomb', or 'Hypnose', ick too fruity and sweet); a new bottle of Prada 'Iris'; and any minute now, a beaut cup of plunger coffee made with a Swedish plunger, Norwegian coffee, and Finnish milk and water. And, quite possibly, a bit of Aussie sweetener, if I can find it. Else gin will have to do!

Hmf. I'll write about yesterday another day.