Sunday, March 11, 2007

I'm it.

I have been blog-tagged by the worthy keltanen. I had no idea such a thing existed, but here I am, needing to tell five things most people don't know about me. I agree with keltanen that the term "most people" is a vague entity, particularly so in the online context, where someone stumbling on this whilst next-blog surfing will not know the first thing about me, while for others my five chosen revelations might well be no news at all. If that is the case, apologies. I can only offer you the consolation that you are not "most people".

It's also quite difficult because of the way I am. I blab all sorts to all and sundry, as you may have noticed, leaving only things really too beautiful, painful, or embarrassing to be told to anyone, even under blog tag conditions. But here goes for nothing:

1. I was born via Caesarian section. I shall be starting from the beginning of the world, you see. I couldn't be born like normal people. My poor mother was in labour for a day or so, until my heartbeat suddenly faded badly and they rushed her off to the operating theatre. I have often wondered whether this (lack of) a primal experience has had an effect on the way my personality has turned out. (Thrilling, I hear you say, thrilling. Yes I know, but I am actually finding this really difficult.)

2. My maternal grandfather was a published author. Of books, no less. He died before I was born though. I have read exactly one of his novels, his war book "Loppuun saakka" ("Until the End"). I was around ten, and for my ten-year-old self, the most memorable thing in the book was the phrase describing how the ground behaved during heavy bombardment: "...maa aaltoili allani kuin nainen" ("...the ground undulated under me like a woman"). I was startled to think this undulating woman may have been my grandmother. (Going back to the times before history started, as you may have noticed.)

3. I have pierced nipples. I had this done, by a guy I used to know and in my own kitchen, when I was recovering from divorcing the father of my children. I have also had my nose and navel "done". My nose stud I stopped wearing around nine years ago, as I took it out for my first theatre production and realised I liked my face better without it (I seemed to look less like a Christmas tree to passing strangers). I stopped wearing my nipple rings after two or three years as they made my nipples sag. (Ok, this was the obligatory juicy one, right?)

4. I have also had dreadlocks down to my arse. Well, not quite, but beyond half-way down my back anyway. This goes back to my heady hippie mama days in Wales. I cannot offer any photographic evidence, as all my photos are in Hawai'i. My older son was a thumb-sucker, and there were a couple at the back of my neck that were his favourites. He'd want to hold them while sucking his thumb.

5. In my childhood, I was chased into a shed by an elk. This is totally true and most emphatically, not funny. Elks are *really* big, a child's face is not chest-level to the horrible critters. I was eight, nine, doing something outdoors at the cottage with one of my cousins (who subsequently developed schizophrenia, I might add - there's no proof that the two events were linked, but no counter-proof either! so take this seriously!) when suddenly this beast galumphed at break-everything-in-my-way speed from the woods directly towards us - I mean it passed us only because we dodged it. Terrifying. Scary in a primitive, primeval way - the adrenalin rush of cavemen. I have had flashbacks of the event, for instance once in a Welsh wood where someone had let their horrible cows roam freely. I froze and had to be saved.

Right, ha! I have done it! I now need to find five people with blogs who are not the same people keltanen already tagged. This poses another difficulty - for someone who spends more time than is healthy with her nose buried in a keyboard, I have relatively few blog contacts. But but but. Here we go:

The Periodic Englishman
The Disorganizer
Rebecca Clamp

You're it.


nmj said...

hey honey, you are cheeky to tag me, i have a fear of tags/memes (really!) but will see what i can do... no pierced nipples, no being chased by elk, but will unearth something, i'm sure!


Why have you put NMJ's name above mine on your list, by the way? Am I so unimportant to you, Finland? I come second to THAT? Really? That hurts.

Like it, by the way, Hellslinky. I'm going out shopping for the afternoon, but will be back later.

Hello NMJ - x

nmj said...

Dearest PE, Pony Boy, Needy Pseudo-Finlander, Naked Horseman: Don't even try and compete with me for Anna MR's affections, don't even try... Ha! - so you are now fluent in Finnish - well done, I congratulate you - but don't push it or I may set an elk on you xxx


NMJ - is Anna Mr even at home today? I've been trying for AGES to get her attention. No joy as yet.

"Pony Boy, Needy Pseudo-Finlander, Naked Horseman"

I like all of those descriptions, NMJ. Try harder, please. To date, you've only succeeded in exciting me. And that's not good, trust me.

I am now entirely fluent in Finnish, yes. In a couple of hours I should have cracked Welsh, too. Don't worry, please, we only ever say nice things about you when we speak together in our secret and loving tongues.

I think I'd maybe better just leave it there. But where is the Ice Maiden, NMJ? Do you suppose any harm has come to her?

I hope I get to nab you before you go to sleep tonight, NMJ. Listen out for the doorbell.

Anna Mr - stop being so rubbish and get here this minute/hour/day/week/month. Some of us are needy, you know.

Farewell Finland - you had your chance.

Anna MR said...

I am here! Don't go! Where is everybody?

Oh, it's so dark and lonely in these woods...hello?





There you are, you Finnish creep. I've been worried sick. I kept on having to sit down when I was out shopping with my girlfriend.

Right. I've been looking at your list - earlier on I was simply too excited by seeing my own name to give a flying fig about your thing. But I'm calmer now, little Igloony.

Let's start at the top. Why is your lack of this primal experience causing you difficulties just now? What is it that you are finding difficult, Anna Mr?

Don't worry, by the way, if something is too personal for you to feel comfortable discussing - just say so. I'm hardly likely to take offence.

Ireland calling Finland, do you read me? Calling Finland.......Helloooooo?


Disgraceful. You'll pay for this, Helsinki.

Sleep well.

Anna MR said...

Well yes. Item one on my list, you see ystävä hyvä. I have wondered whether my tendency to drift in life, expecting other people to be the final creators or decision-makers or whatever, in a word, my tendency to be the object rather than the subject of my own life - whether this tendency could be a result of being pulled out through a surgical incision deftly slashed by a scalpel-wielding obstetrician, rather than having to force my own way out. There are some airy-fairy psychology-philosophy types who suggest that a birthing baby experiences killing his/her mother and simultaneously saving his/her own life, choosing to kill mother rather than die him/herself (now isn't English tedious with its gender-specific personal pronouns), and that the shock, remorse, horror of this - I have killed mother! - is part of the primal experience. Well, be that as it may, but I could actually follow the idea of the baby having a bad time, what with being painfully expelled from the comfy surroundings and security-inducing muffled sounds of the womb, the mother-universe, which after all is all he's used to, like being squeezed through a rhythmically constricting wormhole and out of the universe into something unimaginable would be for us, and then babies *are* creatures of love only, which we, sadly, are not. (this is a long sentence, I know, and I know not whether it makes any sense, but it is late and you have my apologies) Reading about this nonsense made me wonder whether it is only remorse, though, but whether it could be a source also of a gritty drivey fight-for-your-life energy. However, I did most of this speculation around the time when I was busily engaged in having my two sons and these things were very much on my mind. As my sons have grown and I have aged, I have also found that I have become better at being on the driving seat of my life, that I don't objectify myself so much, so it may all be something entirely different altogether.

It was nice to find you still up and chatty, Ponipoika, but I do think I'll have to retire to my soft bed of downy snow now. Some of us have to get up at 6 am, 6:30 if we promise to be quick at brushing our teeth, it's dreadful. So nos da, hyvää yötä, spokoinai noche. More in the morrow.

Anna MR said...

PS Currently looking for someone to install one of those traffic light thingies, you know the ones, busy, wait, enter, onto my site, so that you, herra Ponipoika, can hold your horses (ha!) and see when I am actually concocting a lengthy and convoluted reply to your question.

Anna MR said...

nmj - sorry about tagging you, I realise it is not really well you know, but well there you have it. I appreciate you taking it like the good sport you are dear heart. And you have my special blessing for eating as much elk as you can possibly stuff your pretty wee face with, preferably three meals a day, for a hundred years. Perish the beasts, they are *terrifying*.




Very fair point, Anna Mr. I am an impatient fool. I'm going to go and read your response properly now. I'll hopefully be able to leave you something for you to wake up to tomorrow. Failing that, blame NMJ.

See you soon,


nmj said...

Wow, this is the late night Helsinki philosophy club. But Pseudo-Pony-Finn, I fear you are tiring Anna Mr with your nocturnal demands. Remember she has slush & snow to walk through tomorrow. Anyway, all I have to say is that I was a forceps delivery.

Hyvää yötä to you both x.

Kanikoski said...

Just to prove that I am still a regular visitor. And that the only reason that there is no footprint is that I have, well, nothing intelligent to add. I am aware of keltanen's tag. Retribution will be had. He hasn't completed either of my two challenges yet. Good post, btw.

Kanikoski said...

P.S. I was Caesarian, too. Does this mean I have to think of something even more original for my list? D'oh!


Hei, ystävyys filosofinen, Kanikoski + NMJ.

Anna Mr, ystävä hyvä, this was a wonderful response. Please bear with me because I'm going out today (AGAIN) with my girlfriend. We're going to the beach. The sun is shining and life feels sweet. I'll be here later tonight, though, to comment on what you have just said.

I really do like it here.

Kind regards etc....

Ponipoika of Bergen

(you can blame NMJ for that one, too)

nmj said...

Se on jäähtynyt nykyisin ja laiton katti on haikea.

Anna MR said...

Dearest nmj - that was wonderful. When I have stopped pissing myself laughing, which will probably be sometime in the 2020s, I shall make that the official motto of this blog, my life, Finland, The Helsinki City Council, and The Finn-Brit Players, not necessarily in that order. Brilliant ystävä, am stunned by your verbal akrobatiikka in Useless European Languages.

Kani, you are back so all is forgiven. Interested in knowing that you are a Caesarian baby also - ha, that would've been one thing I wouldn't have known - maybe our friendship is based not only on friendship but also on a shared Devoid of Primal Matricide Behaviour Syndrome?

But you, you mean Ponipoika you. What's all this shit about going to the beach to enjoy the sunshine, hmm? Where's my Poni response for my response, eh? Have you no shame? If an army of pissed-off elk swim ashore somewhere in Ireland, you've only yourself to blame. I, for one, am off to learn Russian tonight, so as you're not around now, you'll just have to miss me until much, much later. So let that be a lesson.

TPE said...

Anna Mr, sorry. I’ve been all over the place today and meant to come and see you a lot earlier than this. (Why can you not just be happy for me that I was at the beach? Grumpy ice-elk)

And how come NMJ is suddeny able to speak Finnish? This is not good, not good at all.

Anyway, it is hard to know what to make of what you say, to be honest. My initial reaction to this sort of thing is almost always unfavourable. By that, I mean that I find myself naturally pulling away from believing in these possibilities. It just seems TOO unlikely that an experience at the very start of someone’s life can reverberate through the years and land a punch decades later.

Here is just one, intensely personal thing, however, that makes me think I could be very, very wrong. From an extremely early age and from almost as soon as I was able to speak, I would often become agitated and insist to my mum, weepingly, that I had to go back to “the sea”. I would be pointing at her stomach as I said this (I know, I know – it totally creeps me out as well, and I simply dread to think what a shrink would make of it). I was absolutely adamant that I could remember being in her womb, and that that was where I would prefer to be, thank you very much. This went on for a few years and then faded away (thank GOD).

The thing is - I remain utterly sure of the truth of my memories (in this regard) on the very rare occasions I care to give them headspace. This doesn’t mean that my “memories” are correct – not at all – just that I feel sure of them. (watery – in case you’re wondering, hardly dramatic news)

It is, at the very least, a bit freaking freakish and my mum, these days, will admit to having found the whole thing unsettling. I was ADAMANT that I could remember it clearly. Nothing could persuade me otherwise.

There seems little point in pretending that I find life to be anything other than baffling these days. I simply seem unable to process the information that is being thrown at me, in the manner that normal people seem able to do so. And no, I do NOT think that this is anything to do with having gone through a Steiner education – some people believe we are made to leave school ill-equipped for the “real world”. I doubt that, somehow, and my problems started elsewhere, in any event.

It starts off small – why did that man drop litter? How is that possible? Is he thinking properly? Does he not know that this is bad? What the f**k is going on here? This really doesn’t make sense - and ends up somewhere on a mountainside in Rwanda. It has pushed me very close to the edge on more than one occasion.

I don’t really know what I’m trying to say. It just seems interesting, I suppose, that this peculiar inability of mine to deal with other people and their hurtful behaviour seems to have started from a very early age. And some dubiously hopeful memory of security, perhaps, seems to have started at the very earliest age possible.

It seems only fair to say, I suppose, that it would be ludicrous of me to dismiss out of hand the suggestion that primal experience may shape us. I’m not really sure why it is, then, that I continue to gently resist the notion. Like I say, it just all seems too unlikely.

I’m glad that you now feel more in control of your life, Anna Mr, because that is A Very Good Thing to be. Yes indeedly. Crucial, in fact, to your long-term well being. I’m sorry, Igloony, that I only have a personal example to offer, whilst having nothing pertinent to say about your own experiences (typical man). I suppose there isn’t really a great deal to be said, however, because the very personal nature of these things means that there is simply no right or wrong, true or false. There is only what we choose to make of these experiences for ourselves - and personally speaking, I’m choosing to keep my head stuck in the sand for a little while longer, because I hardly dare to look.

I promise you, however, that I have read your response carefully and have enjoyed every minute of doing so. Thank you.

Kind regards etc


nmj said...

Hey, Just to say I love wee kisumisu . . . the other stuff that you & PE are getting into, och, that's just hurting my head - the forceps delivery! - i'm too wrecked to join you in your intellectual debates, forgive me, but i have a seemingly bipolar sony laptop that needs attention x

Anna MR said...

Ah, P-p, I apologise for my earlier cranky needy possessiveness. I used to love going to the beach in Wales - I am by no means one of those meat-market beach types, I hasten to clarify - just that I love the sea in its various forms and shapes and sizes and salt contentynesses (which, in the Gulf of Finland, my ownest sea, is very low indeed, as I'm sure you knew already), and I like to gather up peculiar stones and make e.g. roses out of them onto the beaches of the world. That sort of thing. And in Wales, I used to have a dog too, a lurcher named Burroughs (after William S.), and having a lurcher named Burroughs does make going to the beach all the more gratifying, as do small boys who splash around and get their trouserlegs wet. So I am *actually* really glad you went to the beach with the dog & the girlfriend & had a lurvely time, I was just being horrid.

So - back to what I was actually going to say before I started to waffle incoherently about myself - that is a hair-raising childhood memory, I am incredibly glad you told me it. Incredibly. I work in the childhood industry - shh! don't talk about this out loud, as I try to keep my working persona, my blogging persona, my theatrical persona, and my various other personae nicely apart, but I am a Montessori teacher - and I find, particularly the older I get, that children are the people who collectively piss me off the least. They just are less wanky than other people, by and large. I also find, although I work with the 3-6-year-old age group, that the wee buggers are in many ways most intriguing and fascinating in the pre-verbal age of birth to whatever, one-and-a-halfish, two. I know I am totally alone in the world to think this, as most people think they are a) just cute or b) just a hassle c) a mishmash of the two previous options, but I am serious about it. They are both of this world, short, bandy-legged people, and also still little travellers from another plane. I find interacting with them somehow spiritually, emotionally, intellectually intriguing and satisfying.

I am not of the opinion either that birth experience, or indeed any other single experience (at least within the range of "normal" developmental and/or life experience - so excluding gruesome horrors that can probably mar (spelling? should that have two rr's? marr? hmm) a person in one fell swoop) can be the be-all and end-all factor in the development of one's personality. I do tend to allow for the possibility, however, that within ourselves we carry preverbal memories - I know I do although I have had people telling me I cannot possibly remember things as early as I know I do remember, and I know I remember them precisely because the consciousness remembering them is preverbal - so if we do and can have memories of babyhood, for instance, it is not inconceivable that an individual could have memories from the womb. Consciousness does not begin at birth, it does begin earlier (at least I think this) - albeit it is not the sort of consciousness experienced by one in their rational thinking adult stage, if you like (although rationally thinking adults are often few and far between). Therefore, if a conscious sentient being is traumatically squashed out of its universe into another, it would tend to sound likely to me that the experience leaves some sort of an imprint, if not exactly what we can define as a memory (which term tends to incorporate images, words, storyline). I would tend to think the likely resting place of this imprint is in the body (rather than the mind, so to speak). But it may be possible that some people - maybe people with a heightened/early developed level of consciousness? - have carried the memory/imprint of the experience strong enough to a verbal state where they can, like yourself, verbalise it.

Interesting that you went through Steiner schooling. I went to a Steiner school for a year when I was four - my early childhood sadly includes a history of multiple daycare facilities. I liked it there - having been an excruciatingly shy kid in peer group company up till then, I there became brave enough to be "naughty". We roasted & ground coffee beans and made coffee there (remember the smell so clearly!), and hand-dipped candles once. I had my first boyfriend there, his name was Marko and he had blonde hair and brown eyes, a most unusual combination in Finland. His baby sister's first word was "Anna". Marko found a plastic daisy bracelet in the playground and gave it to me, because I was being Mum in the home game.

Mmm. Nice chatting, P-p. More soon I hope.

The Ice Maiden

Anna MR said...

Nmj, freaky, you posted your comment the same minute I posted mine - ok let's get started on Jungian synchronicity next

Get that laptop fixed lass, missing you already as the Americans say


nmj said...

Ponipoika on arka. Hän ei faktinen hellitellä.

This is what I get for: Pony boy is jealous of our virtual pets.

I suspect it is nonsense.

He is, Anna MR - he doesn't know what Joe and Kisumisu (Misukisu?) are ... he has been making enquiries.

Anna MR said...

Dear you - it is nonsense. But it is really funny nonsense. I wish I could come up with nonsense like that.

Are you telling me he hasn't been over to play with our pets? How could he not play with them? How harsh can a man get? I mean, I understand all about these hard Northern lads having to be all hard and that, but even so. I gave Joe a nice scratching today when I popped over to yours. He has a nice appreciative smile if you keep it going for long enough.

Anna MR said...

And hei, odota. Enquiries? Tell me more.


Couple of freaks.

Hei, Ice Maiden. I'm glad you didn't mind my response. I have been feeling a bit nervous since posting it. Anyway, I'm going to need to look at your latest wordathon (I'm liking your style, Helsinki, you could talk the arse off a cow) and then get back to you. This may take 20 minutes, or it may take a week - I don't know. But you should feel certain that I'll be back to respond.

In the meantime, however, I am perfectly happy to talk absolute bollocks about anything. Even the respective merits of Joe and Konisakiharikoku (your one, anyway - my Finnish seems to be slipping now that NMJ has become a Finn, too)

Oh - and where should I do my tag thing? I have no intention of doing another post until April, but don't want to wait that long before doing it (the taggy). Would it be bad form to put it in my comments section as part of my next (or next again, I forget, you filthy stalker) response to you?

I'm excited. I don't know what to put in it.

Another thing, was it ever properly established which of us had the best stats thing? And by best, of course, I mean to say "dirtiest". And by dirtiest, I mean the one with the best spying facilities. I NEED to spy on the people who come to visit me. I want to be able to spy right into their homes and find out what they ate for tea.

But please, don't let that stop you from visiting. Nice shoes, by the way.

NMJ - I am NOT jealous of those infernal things. Out of interest, though, nothing more, where do they live?

Ice Maiden - you're asleep already, aren't you? I have GOT to remember about this 2 hour time difference thing in future.

I'll hopefully see you (all) soon, anyway. (that means you too, Kanikoski)


Anna MR said...

Asleep? Like hell I am. I was in a time warp watching you talk the arse offa whole zoo.

Anna MR said...

I mean naturally I was reading your older posts to find out what's been going on in my absence.

Taggy - Poni, ystävä hyvä, you can put it in a response or here or anywhere you like as long as you let me know where I'll find it. And make it full of good funny juicy guffaw-inducing but poignant stuff.

Kisumisu, my fellow basket case, my sweet. Is he not sweet? Have you played with him? Fed him? Teased him with that red ball on a string on a stick? He is sitting there right now, craving for your attention. Can't you click on the link and get yourself one? I confess I have been entertaining the idea of getting you a little pink pony that cavorts lovably and can be fed handfuls of virtual hay. I was going to hand him over to you in my next comment to you, but it did occur to me that Blogger is a little funny about too much html on comments. I think. (Don't tell anyone, but I know Jack Shit about computers, computing, html, and anything related to said topics.)

Stattys - I am sure yours is better if it's the one nmj uses. She is definitely the sort of lady who'd have the dirtiest stat counter. She'll know when we last changed underwear, or had a sauna (tonight. bliss. 10 am start at work tomorrow. consequently, allowed to sleep some. more bliss.)

I have contracted a hugely serious case of keyboard diarrhoea and it has got to be from you, Konikundi (let you out of your misery and tell you this means Ponipoika in Helsinkian).

Anna MR said...

Oh and one more thing, but one only, I promise, and then I am going to bed to finish my Haruki Murakami book (yet another dude is talking to cats, it's spell-binding, truly). I understand the feeling of nervousness when one posts something as non-bollocksy as your childhood memory thing. But no need here.

So off I go to fluff my lump of ice so it's all nice and comfy under my head. Good night, sweet ladies, good night, sweet ladies, good night, good night.


I am in shock. Kisumisu is a legend. Anna Mr, I have just been playing excitedly with your cat - and I loved it. I simply had absolutely no idea that it would respond like that. I may very well need to go and play with NMJ's, as well. It is just too sweet.

When I was looking at these things earlier, I was impressed by them even as they just sat there, watching - truly, I am sometimes pathetically easy to please. It never even occurred to me to click on the link - why would it? I was just happy looking at your cat, it was enough for me - and so when I followed your instructions to do so just a few short moments ago...well, sensation.

I need that horse. I need it so badly that I actually wish I had your phone number so that I could wake you and tell you to fetch it for me, immediately.

There is just no way, alas, that I can allow a pink (yes please, excellent choice of colour) horse to suddenly appear on my blog without explanation. People already think I'm strange enough as it is (v. true, but one needs to be careful). You MUST give me it as a present, Helsinki. It is the only way. It is the future.

Is there no way it can be smuggled into my comments section? Try harder than you’ve ever tried at anything before, Finland. This needs to happen, because I must have that horse.

If everything fails (why would you let me down like this, Snow Monkey, why?) then you should maybe just casually drop by and offer me the link. At the very least, this then makes it look like I am merely being sporting in accepting a jokey gift. It also means that I will have an alibi (of sorts) if things ever become too complicated between myself and this new horse of mine. It happens. Even the harshest members of the judicial system will be able to see that, at the very least, I had temptation needlessly dangled before my crazed eyes by your recklessly provocative actions. Every little helps in the construction of a case for the defence when the accused stands charged of grossest misconduct. Trust me, I know.

Don’t let me down, child of the north.


(I really don’t like the look of that, by the way. I dread to think what I have just called myself)

It is nearly 2 in the morning now, I am such a fool. Back, once refreshed, to deal with the rest.

nmj said...

Ah, I believe you've sent ponyboy-fake- finlander a pink horse! You are spoiling him, Anna MR, postively spoiling him!

You're right, honey, my stats tell all, I know what colour of pants you're wearing...& sometimes I even know what you're having for dinner (that's mainly cos pony boy tells, us when he boasts of his cuisine skills.)

Ponyboy, Sorry - I'm just in the mood for slagging you off today, can't help it.

Kisses to you both.x


NMJ - never apologise. I positively relish being slagged off. I crave it, in fact.

The kicker, I suppose, would be that I am exceptionally gifted at dishing it right back out again. Exceptionally gifted, NMJ. People rarely know they've been hit until they return home at night, look in the mirror as they brush their teeth, and find themselves to be bleeding. Lengthy recuperation in hospital ensues. It is a skill, right enough.

Is that true about Anna Mr's underwear, by the way? That's certainly more the sort of thing I had in mind when I signed up with Statcounter, yes. Your stats are way better than mine, sweety. You simply must teach me how to use these things properly. I am missing out, NMJ, and I don't like it.

Hello Ice Maiden - thanks for the horse.

(not going to be signing off again as Konikundi in a hurry, Anna Mr, just to let you know)

The Pony Gentleman

nmj said...

Hello Ice Maiden - thanks for the horse.

Pony Boy, I think you can do better than that. Anna MR deserves way more than this show of abbreviated gratitude.


Anna Mr will have a whole heap of gratitude raining down on her very shortly, NMJ, don't you be worrying about that. There is a time and a place for these things - and I happen to be in control of both of them.

There is a picture of you and a friend on your blog (from quite some time ago) and your friend looks very familiar to me, NMJ. So do you, as it happens, but that may just be a trick of the mind. But I really feel that I have seen your friend somewhere before. It's starting to bother me. I just can't quite place her. Anyway, I'll keep you posted on this curious development.

Anna Mr - hello. Hope you're nice and warm, you wonderfully warped Finn.

Regards to all and sundry.....

nmj said...

You could easily have seen her in west end when we were all at uni - neither of us have changed that much, though she was at strathclyde uni- & we were both students 80-87 (off & on for me).. . but you are a few years younger, pony boy, would we really have been moving in the same circles???

Anna MR said...

nmj, you do of course realise one doesn't transport pink virtual ponies to Ireland to be thanked for it. One does it because *it had to be done, and someone had to do it*. Bit like fighting in the war, you know. Or maybe not, actually.

But anyway. You are most welcome, gentle Poni. I am saddened by the fact I couldn't slip it to you under an anonymous comment, but all's well that etc isn't it?

Anna MR said...

Incidentally, my partners in internet lunacy, and apropos stats: how do you two manage to cover your tracks so well, particularly herra Ponip.? I *know* you've been here, as you've left comments, yet very often, nothing shows on my stats. This is unfair behaviour and needs to be taught to me too.


Wow. I've no idea. That is actually very good news, Anna Mr - it opens up possibilities I might otherwise have been too nervous to contemplate. Sometimes - as NMJ knows - I travel whilst having cookies barred from being able to attach themelves to my computer - maybe that's the answer? Do you see that I have been here this time? Cookies are go. Next time I leave a comment, I'll disable them and see if it makes a difference. Is this as dirty as it feels?

NMJ - I'll be back later (cookies disabled) to speculate further on your friend - not you Anna Mr. Well, not much, anyway.

Kisses all round

(yes, Helsinki, all's well that end's well - x)

nmj said...

hey hon, i am not aware of covering my tracks, i am a frequent flyer to your blog so i should show up...also i see pony boy fine when he comes to mine and since he is practically resident in yours he should show up.. . maybe your settings? change to statcounter if you want to know everything, it makes me feel like a detective when i read my stats!

okay, ponipoikahorseyboy, i will stop slagging you off. night, bothx


Right. Here I am again, fy nghariad. This time I have sneaked in under cover (I hope) with my cookies disabled. Has it worked? Do you know that I am here? Who am I talking to? You're in bed, I can feel it. This isn't going well. Starting to feel a bit stupid now. Yes.

Leaving now.

(NMJ - why are your comments switched off on your latest post? I'm still wracking my brains about your friend, by the way)


NMJ - I missed you there. Damn. I didn't need to feel I was talking into the darkness, after all. Why are you stopping slagging me off? There's really no need. See you soon, I hope.

And you, Ice Maiden.

nmj said...

I didn't switch my comments off -that is wierd, I had to republish the post to fix it -did you switch them off, pony boy? I bet you can access my dashboard, you blogging devil!

hope you are sleeping soundly, anna mr, i should be, but i've been pissing about, i must sleep.

Anna MR said...

I am so glad that there is a time diff between us - well I'm not really, but seeing that you poor things were on my site at three in the morning did make me wince. But of course it was only one for you lot, which is a lot easier to live with. Sorry I couldn't be there with you, but some of us have to make do with the limitations East European Time imposes upon us. And work.

Stats are a problem, my stat counter shows I-don't-know-what-time, but quite possibly, Hawai'ian, as that's where I was when it was set up, and I can't find a button to tweak it from. But now if I change over to statcounter, I will lose all my two thousand odd visits (yes, I know, pathetic isn't it) and will have to start from 1. And there's also the list of googlesearches to consider - I have really good new ones which I shall post when there are twenty of them. Or then some other time. But what shall I do? Can one have two counters on one page?

Shall pop over and visit both of yous in a wee while, you crazed Scots. I likes you.

Political Umpire said...

Hello Anna MR, I surfed on here from the Englishman's blog. Interesting facts, and indeed interesting bog. I like the pictures too, having never been to Helsinki it's tempting (not that I have much in the way of travel opportunities these days).




Political Umpire - did you just call this place a "bog"? I feel you perhaps owe our frankly disgraceful hostess an apology, hmm?

Anna Mr, mites menee? Kaipasin sinua paljon. You are so elusive, Helsinki. And where is NMJ? She NEVER visits anyone anymore. I feel my heart breaking all over again, Igloo-dweller. Do something.

Political Umpire - apologise.

Big love from Ireland to anyone who cares to get in the way of it.....

Ponipoika of Bergen

Anna MR said...

Esteemed Mr P-Ump, welcome and glad you've enjoyed a look around my boggy blog. I must apologise for the state of my photobog, I mean, blog, at the moment it's in shameful free-fall as my (son's) camera got stuck on sunset mode for all of winter (yes, I am very technically-minded) and all my photos kept coming out very blue, so I gave taking photos a rest altogether. Now, when I've managed to change the settings to other conditions, too, I have forgotten how to reduce photos. But will certainly put up a notice when 1adayHki is worth looking at again. Well, at least not disgusting to look at again.

Rakas Poni parka, don't cry. It's alright. Nmj has worms. She'll be back. In the meantime, rest assured I shall be here to get in the way of all the love I can catch, whilst holding you upright. That's what bogpals are for.

Matti said...

boy is this place packed! i think this is one of the most active online forums i read, and that's only with you three regulars.

anna, i still have no idea why i didn't remember tagging you! glad i did though, your list was good.

kani: i was tagged with this list of five months ago. i'm just going through them in order, your turn will come.

Anna MR said...

Be warned, matti, there's a serious case of keyboard diarrhoea going round. You don't want to be catching it.

Glad you liked the list. It was more fun than I thought it'd be - as is the case with everyone, I don't usually do these circulars and things.


Hello Matti, nice to see you.

Hei - well said, Helsinki, being bogpals should be all about that, yes. Be my bogpal, Anna, and I will return the favour if I'm not too busy. Just make sure that you're always there for me.

V. glad to hear that you seem receptive to catching all the love that's flying around (Matti - catch!) because everything just seems sweeter that way, doesn't it?

You have suddenly become prolific, Anna Mr. Multi many much posts have appeared from nowhere. Very impressive.

Anyway, I noticed that your question - can one have two counters on one page? - went unanswered. I don't know, is the honest answer, but should be rather keen to find out myself. Can you imagine? Yummy yummy. I want 50 counters. No, 70.

I have two out of five from my taggy list completed. Am I correct in understanding that this is a "strictly no lying" venture? I think I am. Certainly, this is the reason it is taking me so long to do. I've never before had to tell the truth for such a sustained period. No. It is knackering. How do decent people survive?

Anyway, night night, Ice Maiden.

Anna MR said...

Ponipoika, you strange and elusive Celtic Finn, you have done it again - you have been here leaving no hoofprints on my stats. It's driving me crazy. Thank jumala you at least leave your (brilliant, witty, charming, unique, ja niin edelleen) comments, as otherwise I wouldn't know you've been here, and that would just be too much for any Maiden, Ice or Elk, to bear.

I have been worrying about the flippancy with which I answered that thing you wrote about the relationship between music, painfully beautiful experiences, and orgasms. I mean really, just to say "yes" just doesn't say it all, does it? I never thought I'd do this, but I have a feeling growing inside me that states I'll have to come back to yours one of these moments and give my full and honest opinion on the nature of pleasure, sexual or spiritual.

Apropos honesty - yes, oh Galloping Horse of the West. It is the prerequisite expectation of the taggy thing. Don't you dare make something up. I didn't, and don't want to be alone in this "she's too dumb to lie" corner specially saved for dorks on the internet.


Saying "yes" doesn't really say it all, no, but I certainly never felt it was a flippant thing to say, not a bit of it. You're very welcome over there at my swamp anytime, but you can just as easily craft a response here, in your own space. Don't ever feel worried that you might put something out there, or ask questions, or whatever - and then simply have them ignored. Won't happen. We will eventually drag ourselves out of this particular comments section and lurch towards the next, but where's the hurry? I'm going to be here for as long as it takes and have stuff to respond to anyway (don't think I forget these things), so this place is as good as that place, really. Probably slightly better, even.

I saw that you had been in Spain - wise move, Mr Z is absolutely lovely. The dance debate, however, was a scurrilous affair where low blows were traded by all those concerned, if memory serves. Don't be fooled by Z's gentle ruminations and often rather touching reflections and baffled observations, the man is a ruthless dictator who rarely gives an inch. This just makes me like him more.

Back later.

Anna MR said...

Hello there, delight of my internet ruminations, I must admit I, too, am rather fond of this little comments nook in the etherspace of the web. And you might be right - maybe I'll do the orgasm post on my own space. Stand proudly behind the bollocks I write, you know.

Mr Z, the ruthless dictator of Spanish Yorkshire. Yes. I enjoy his style too - found him via you and that other mad Scot (who hasn't been around for *hours*, where the hell is she?)

Lämpimästi tervetuloa takaisin vaatimattomaan igluuni milloin vain, oi Kelttihevonen.