finns are funny. I am often frustrated by this culture that is so wrapped up in it’s greatness and pettiness that they can’t see life outside the box. my 12-year old little sister announced the other day she wants live like Tiia; free and in nature. bless her heart. her ambition is admirable and I am truly impressed by her drive to spend every weekend outside. kick ass, girl!

as always I love being home, I have finally recovered from my jet lag. have managed to sleep a few nights all the way through consecutively. the urge to pass out standing and to vomit from tiredness during the day has receded and my shits have started to arrive earlier everyday. ha!

I get to spend lots of quality time with my family. last night us women spent a night together, made tacos and drank champagne. paha porvari. I love spending time with them and I love spending time with my sisters. I truly have a remarkable family. what will I ever do without my mother?

if there’s one place I always take great enjoyment from running is here. at Pispalan Harju. there’s something about these trails, they’re just easy enough, short enough, yet long enough to loop through trails and connect different pathways, ridges and shorelines to my loop. I love running here. watching the sullen faces of the finns. everyone looks like they’re pissed. no one smiles and they’ll never greet you. I often wonder if they’re aware of the look on their faces. my sister and I spoke about this the other day, how come it’s so unnatural to smile and regard someone with pleasant manner. even if you never speak to each other, watch that damn face of yours that you keep twisting into that god awful expression. have you looked in the mirror lately? I regard myself at my ugliest when I don’t smile. perhaps that’s why fins are not regarded as pretty because our/their faces? naama aina norsunvitulla. and the fact that come winter, the finns only know two colors: black and grey. no wonder you’re fucking depressed. how about some yellow, huh? or orange? or spring green? us knows no seasons for it’s color choices.

life’s too short to wear black.

life is good. I love being home. I love being with my family. I love being busy, doing the work I do.

I do adore portland. I really do.

but something has truly caught my eye since I’ve been here. and I am not entirely sure how to put this into words. but I’ll try. it’s amazing how much people care about little meaningless things, like their cup of coffee. how much portlanders feel good about bagging their groceries in paper, riding a bike to work and eating quinoa. everyone feels like they are caring their part to save the planet. I used to be one of them. I never took stock of this before, I never noticed to such degree before, but looking at it as an outsider, it truly seems a bit ridicilous. removing myself from the city that thrives on the frontlines and progressive thinking of climate change and sustainable living, kinda makes me notice how little the rest of the world gives a shit. and how uneffective we really are.

living in montana makes you truly give up a lot of things. things, as it turns out, you really don’t need. it’s nice to eat good food, visit art galleries and buy jewelry, but I can’t help to feel so removed from it. I just don’t care enough anymore and find a large portion of what used to draw me to portland, pointless. I feel like I care about real things. living in a city doesn’t feel real to me, though it surely seems very real to everyone else. I find myself compelled to learning the art of hunting, killing and butchering, because it seems like an important skill to know. I want to buy firearms and learn how to fill/make my own bullets. because it seems like something I should know. I never thought I’d quite say this, but I love living in a western town with a 4 block main street, where the bar jukebox plays mostly country.

this has probably been the most enlightening week I’ve ever spent in Portland. the most productive in a sense. somehow I am really doing stock of my life here and looking at it from this perspective, I am grateful and relieved I made my escape. that I truly saw and understood that there is a different, much easier, and calmer, way. I have a spent a lot of time seeing old friends, catching up with people, and I can’t help to feel like I sound like I am bragging. I don’t meant to, but how else does it sound “yea, I work about 10-20 hours a week as a graphic designer for myself, I ski patrol a bit in the winter and was a river guide this summer.” how else do you explain to people what it is that I do and how it’s possible I can go to Finland for two months. in the world I live in, it’s completely ordinary to leave seasonally. it’s also completely normal to live out of a camper trailer at the ski hill, the boat yard or the grass lands. it’s totally normal, and kinda sweet, to not have furniture as much as having a garage full of boats, bikes and skis.

one friend told me I was too old to live out of an airstream. another told me how brokenhearted she was because her boyfriend wouldn’t grow up and move out of his sailboat and buy a car. she wanted to fix him, and the dude is only 34. does he think he needs to be fixed? whither the answer there is yes or no, does he then want to be fixed? should he be fixed? and, really, why are you so convinced he needs to be fixed, and what are you fixing him from? I get this sense, being in Portland, that a lot of people don’t know and can’t imagine that there is another way to living and when I tell them my story it sounds unreal, like a dream of sorts. I have always regarded portland as such a free thinking, progressive city, and it is, but with in it’s certain confounds. there are limitations to the process.

looking at it from here, I live an amazing life. seriously.

the run in with my ex was kinda amazing and I’ve thought about it a little. I am proud of myself that I let everything go, that I had the courage to not only walk away, but to completely change my life. I have made lots of bad choices, but some of the fundamental choices have been really good ones. seeing the drama he was surrounded by, and feel sorry for the girl who is now in the middle of it, made me feel like I won. I had won a long time ago, but I didn’t see it until now, well, I haven’t thought about it anymore. so much time has passed.

despite my little identity crisis, infused by serious bouts of depression, I have found my way again. I have made a lot of choices about where I am going and haven’t let anything or anyone truly alter my path. I am incredibly grateful that I have stuck it out with my incredibly selfish ways (as I have been told a time or two by ex boyfriends), because who’s fucking life are you living if not your own?

so, order up! every dessert on the menu and a bottle of champagne all to yourself! because you never know when you might not get to again. I took a hike in the oneonta gorge with a dear old friend this week who has been diagnosed with Parkinson’s disease. he was somewhat physically challenged with some spots, he pushed through just fine, we took our time and hung out. it was great to spend time with him, he has always wanted to do the hike (as have I) and finally got to do it with me. he appreciated going with me and not his usual care group. I appreciated going with him. he told me he loves his life. it made me incredibly happy.

portland. a city where coffee shops put real flowers on their tables. where everything is cute and chic. where people don’t know how to merge. where men are not men, but hipster pussies. it’s lush, it’s precious. it’s streets and hip strips are a treat to explore. I’m checking out my favorite hikes. my favorite parks, breweries and restaurants. eating amazing food every day. hanging out with old friends I haven’t seen in years. I’m being a professional tourist in a city I used to know like the back of my hand. city I used to thrive in. portland is still weird, with it’s weird people. it’s odd discover that I don’t relate anymore. I feel like a country pumpkin, I feel like a montana girl. the amount of people, outfits and cute things is overwhelming. so is the traffic.

I realized wednesday morning while laying in my bed in Ennis, doing mental stock of all the things I need to accomplish with flying to finland out of seattle in two weeks with my dog and the totaled 4runner and the insurance claim and all… voi vee! …that I had to pack all my things for two months that day, and head west on a car shopping mission. I left in somewhat hurry. passport,. dog papers. shoes. check. headed for missoula, spent a lovely evening with my ladies. looked at cars and headed to couer d’alene friday morning. car shopping there yielded no results so I kept going. slept in my car outside of hood river, next morning rolled right into car shopping.

and so, I am in love with my new truck. sweet. I am stoked to have a car again I can appreciate. no more shitty teeny-weeny 4runner. I am impressed by my shopping abilities to have, yet again, landed on a really nice car. it’s worth it to put in the work and be picky. and comprehensive insurance pays. I returned the aloha today. this issue of the totaled car has been resolved and now I have a week to roam around portland. in my new tundra.

I truly live in paradise with an amazing life. seeing people here slaving away in debt working for a man, in a job they hate, doing the rat race is sobering in a way. I don’t think most people realize there is another way. when I moved to montana I sometimes worried about boredom, but today I miss home and it’s lack of people and development. it’s funny how we adapt and change. I love my gravel roads, mountain passes, wide open spaces and deer pastures. I love the cowboy culture, mountain culture. I love that everyone waves when I pass them (except when you drive a rental with Hawaii plates. aloha). I love seeing moose and bears on my morning drive to go run the gallatin river. I love that to me, seeing buffalo isn’t much different than seeing cows.

I had a run in with THE ex yesterevening. out of all the places, he caught me at walking man brewery in stevenson, washington. that was actually kinda terrifying and a hostile encounter. it’s insane how much anger he’s held onto over the 4.5 years since the last time I saw him. I can’t quite do stock of what he is angry at me for in the first place. it’s stunning to see his insanity from such distance and the strange conversation I had with him and his ex girlfriend (who appears to be on some kind of Jason-survival-club kick). the whole encounter seemed so fucked up and I am glad I have completely isolated myself from that type of drama, people, resentment and anger. holy hell.

despite of my personal turmoil and occasional drama, I realize today, my life is healthy and good. my life is filled with abundance, joy and (at times, overwhelming amounts of) freedom. my life is rad.                      you’re welcome!