Don't Call Me Motherfucker, Motherfucker!

Due to this week's work bonanza I have completely forgotten to tell people about two things that happened to me this week. Will now record them here as I am sure to not remember to talk about them this evening either.

When I came to Vantaa on Monday and was looking for a parking lot in parking house 2 (the one across the bus stops from the international terminal), a huge Volvo XC90 suddenly backed out and drove something like ten metres away from a two slot space and stopped. I'm in a hurry, so I quickly and smoothly slip my Micra in to one of the spaces. When I open my car door, I hear someone yelling in Finnish, which I off course choose to ignore elegantly and proceed to unload my luggage (why I bring a lot of luggage to a 36 hour trip will be explained in the next thing I have to tell).

I find a luggage trolley and hurry over to the elevators, observing in the corner of my eye that the Volvo owner seems to have the hardest time ever tricking his car into a huge parking space further down the row. When I get to the elevators the driver, a grey haired guy in his fifties, catches up with me and starts waving his arms around and yelling in Finnish.

Now, I am usually a rather straight forward person, and when working I can have a bit of an edge if stressed. I tell the guy I don't speak Finnish and ask him if he can translate, whereon he makes a remark about how I have a very smart little car and that it must be nice for me that I can steal people's parking lots just like that. I looked at him for a second before telling him that "Yes indeed, you should consider buying one, or at least taking some parking lessons with that monster truck of yours.". He turned around and took the stairs.

The reason why I was hauling suitcases with me for such a short trip was that I would receive some clothes I've left behind when travelling. So Tuesday morning I was actually handed over the remains of a six year relationship in a huge plastic bag from IKEA. There are degrees to how over something is, but this certainly felt like a very, very definitive slap on the face.

There. I feel so much lighter now :D
...I also notice that I tend to go from past to present tense and back a lot when I tell stories, even in written form. Huh.