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Matti & Mervi got married again, in a helicopter. Kari Hotakainen thinks Matti & Mervi define surrealism in Finland: like two dripping clocks in a helicopter, in a way. I could write about the other wedding, but I'm still feeling drained by it, and by the trip, and by other things.

Today, I cleaned the flat some, and had a little cry out of frustration and stir-craziness, and cleaned the flat some more and then took dear mama to the movies to see Under the Tuscan Sun. Which, with all the sunshine &cetera, mama lapped up the scenery and I'd love to say something mean and nasty about the picture, but the sad truth is that I did really enjoy myself for two hours, so. I'm drinking green tea now, with the Hughes-McCullough edition of Sylvia Plath's journals as my mug coaster (wring your own symbolism out of that why don't you), and having writerly thoughts, haha. ahaha.

I also run through the things these people write, and they're all in particularly fine form, it seems. And I could spend all my time reading, and watching Thunderbirds, and keeping my wall calendar at June because the pic's so very nice, I think, if you paid me just a little for it (yo).

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