Sunday, October 21, 2007

Little Nemo Ain't Got Nothin' On Me

Listening: Moon Over Marin - Matthew Good

Unlock my section of the sand
It's fenced off to the water's edge
I clamp a gas mask on my head
On my beach at night
Bathe in my moonlight.

Another tanker's hit the rocks
Abandoned to spill out its guts
The sand is laced with sticky glops

Oh, shimmering moonlight sheen upon
The waves and water clogged with oil
White gases steam up from the soil
On my beach at night
Bathe in my moonlight...


I was sitting at a computer in the MUN library, listening to the new Nightwish album Dark Passion Play on my iPod. I was also engaged in conversation with a woman on MSN. I had no idea who she was or even her real name--the only one she went by was The Poet. Of course, we bonded over our love of Nightwish, and for some reason that's where I was today, sitting in the library talking to her instead of studying.

Man, I love Nightwish, I typed. I would kill to see them live.

Her response was entirely unexpected. Well, I live in Finland, she typed back. Would you like me to send you a ticket to fly here so you can meet them?

Hella yes, I would! All thoughts of shady dealings, including my basic mantra of Be wary of the internets, were completely forgotten. I was getting a goddamn ticket to goddamn Finland! I went right home and packed my bags. Didn't even bother to finish my classes. Nope. Later on I checked and discovered that an e-ticket had, indeed, been reserved for me. I hopped on the plane not long after and sat through a painfully long flight to Finland, alternating between grumbling to myself and nearly vibrating out of my seat with sheer joy at the whole prospect of going.

Finally the plane landed, and before long I found myself standing in the airport with my luggage, looking around in bemusement. "Shit," I said to myself. "I didn't even get the name of the woman I was talking to. How am I supposed to know her when I see her?"

Then a pretty, dark-haired women with blue eyes sauntered up through the crowd and came right to me. "Julia?" she asked, in the sort of manner that illustrated she already knew who I was.

"Um, yes?" I said, bemused. I squinted at her, certain I had seen her before.

She smiled cheerfully at me. "I'm Anette Olzon. Come this way; there's a car waiting for us out front."

Holy shit guys, Anette Olzon! The new lead singer of Nightwish! And she knows my name! WHAT.

I scrambled after her and started yammering questions like a schoolchild on crack. Anette took it in stride, explaining to me that she, in fact, was The Poet, and she'd procured me a ticket to Finland for fun and games. Why? Damned if I know, but I was so not complaining.

This particular Finnish airport was damn huge. By the time we made our way outside into the frigid winter air, Anette and I were chattering like old friends. I even had the guts to dibs "Shotgun" ahead of her when she pointed me in the direction of a relatively normal-looking SUV. When I clambered in the front seat, I found myself faced with yet another familiar figure in the driver's seat.

"You must be Julia," he said.

"Yes," I said, when what I really wanted to do was drool all over myself and tell him that he had pretty eyes.

"It's a pleasure to have you along. I'm Tuomas."

Holy shit guys, Tuomas Holopainen! The keyboardist and primary composer of Nightwish! And he knows my name! WHAT.

"Oh, you're Tuomas," I said in the most geeky manner imaginable. I'm pretty sure my jaw was hanging somewhere down around my knees.

Tuomas looked amused by my lame attempt to be cool, but he didn't say anything. Anette, meanwhile, piled in the back of the SUV with the other three guys in the band (Marco, Emppu, and Jukka) and buckled up. "Where are we going?" I asked as I followed suit.

"No idea," Tuomas replied, gunning the engine. "Hang on."

We had adventures all over Finland. I can't even remember half of them. Tuomas just decided he was going to drive and didn't feel like stopping until one or all of us got hungry. We trekked over the entire country for God only knows how long, completely upon whim.

At one point, Tuomas, who had a tendency to drive somewhere around 40 miles over the speed limit at any given time, was pulled over by a cop. As the officer stepped out of his vehicle and approached the driver's side window, Tuomas abruptly gunned the engine again and we sped off down the road, leaving the officer scrambling for his car.

"What the Christ, Tuomas!" I exploded, looking back out the window in shock.

He didn't seem fazed. "I'm racing him to the highway."

"Why?" I wailed.

"Because in Finland, if you beat a cop to the highway, then he has to let you go with no ticket."

I thought he was lying. This was not the case. Tuomas, of course, hit the highway first; after that, he slowed down a little to let the policeman pass us. I watched with amazement as the cop, looking amused instead of irate, laughed and waved us on.

"Wow," I said. "I am fucking moving to Finland."

After a while of our having myriad adventures, one of the guys in the backseat pointed out, "We should get going. We have a show to do." Tuomas obeyed, adjusting his route and bringing us to a high-class hotel somewhere in the snowy wilderness where the band was supposed to be performing. When we got there, the first thing I noticed was that the place was covered with police cars.

My immediate reaction was panic. "Oh no!" I fretted. "We're going to get arrested!"

"You worry too much," Anette told me, patting me on the head as everyone climbed out of the SUV. Apparently I am equally pettable in every country.

When we got inside, it was to discover that the hotel was in a state of chaos. There was blood, policemen, traumatized staff, and yellow tape all over the otherwise ornate hotel. When Tuomas led the rest of us in a big procession through the doors, a young-looking cop tried to stop us, but an investigator in a tan coat called, "Leave 'em, rookie. They're the band Nightwish! Except for that chick, I have no idea who she is."

Yeah, well, I had no idea why Finnish cops sounded and acted like Americans, but I wasn't saying anything.

Tuomas wasn't paying attention. "What happened here, officer?"

"Triple homicide. No witnesses and no suspects. Nothin' but a helluva lot of blood."

One of the guys in the band cleared his throat. "Um, Tuomas?" he said. "What about our show?"

"Forget the show!" Tuomas thundered, turning back to us with a fire in his eyes. "We've got a mystery to solve! Murderers to catch!"

"I'm confused," I said. "I thought you were musicians."

"Well," said Anette,"we are. But when we aren't playing music, we moonlight as crime stoppers."

Tuomas leaped on me and grabbed my shoulders, shaking me violently. "Come on, Julia! You have to help us solve this murder! We won't be your friends anymore if you don't!"

"This is the best vacation of my entire life," I thought.

Then I woke up.

~*~

Delusional says:
dude, that was pretty awesome
.:Cradle:. [Bone, Body, Flesh, and Blood] says:
Combination of listening to The Poet and the Pendulum too much, watching The Shining, and stressing over my driving test.
.:Cradle:. [Bone, Body, Flesh, and Blood] says:
I think.
Delusional says:
lol. totally.

I am the queen of wicked dreams. No lie.

Icarus hopes that Nightwish doesn't sue her for this. She loves them really a lot.

Monday, October 15, 2007

I Am Getting Myself Into So Much Trouble With This

Listening: Out of Control - Mindy Smith

The blood is dry on the wounds I hide
The scars are settling in
So I keep the light low, and they still show
I sit, and count every stitch

But what it means, what it really means
It's time I let everything go that's
Killing me and turning me
And spinning me so out of control

I don't want to let go.


Golly gee. I think I keep forgetting that I have a blog to update. Actually, no. That's a complete lie. I don't forget, because I have friends who won't let me forget. I'm looking at you, Rykea/Jam/Cade. Lookin' at you hard. ...Okay my eyes hurt now.

So, in the time since I left, not much has happened. Here's the two biggest things.

1. I turned 19.
2. I lost my job.

Shocker? I know. Not the first one, that birthday thing happens every year. The second one. Don't ask me why or anything about it, because I don't know the reason behind the matter yet. Also please no condolences in my comments, if you feel the need. I'm just not really in the mood. I've been hearing them all week, and I'm at the point where I just want to put the matter behind me.

So with my unexpectedly open schedule, someone (lookin' at Jam again) brought to my attention... NaNoWriMo.

"But Julia, isn't that the whole reason you started this blog in the first place?"

Yes, it is. No, I didn't come anywhere near finishing the damn thing last year. No, shut up, I know. But I've been talking to Rykea, and the two of us having been hovering around the idea for a little more than a week. It doesn't help that I pointed the matter out to Cade, who happens to run a local writer's forum, and now a bunch of them are getting in on it and I'm starting to feel kind of responsible for the whole thing.

I might do it. If I can find myself a plot before then. If you could start checking under rocks, I'd really appreciate it. Let me know if you find anything.

By the by: that death-illness I was experiencing? It turned out to be strep throat. I was on a whole cocktail of drugs for more than a week, and I still couldn't swallow after the sixth day. Worst Thanksgiving dinner ever? Yeah, pretty much.

My birthday party was good, for anyone wondering. A night of Mexican food and watching Hot Fuzz with the best people in the universe = my idea of a good time. Also I got some pretty sweet stuff, including (but not limited to) a kick-ass scarf, Shakespeare magnet poetry, Shaun Tan's The Arrival (the most beautiful graphic novel I have ever seen), a bunch of awesome DVDs (Blow, The Last Unicorn (shut up), and Pan's Labyrinth), and a motherfucking elephant teapot. I love all of you guys. Seriously.

I should run and do some writing. My muse has been working overtime lately, and I'm really not in the mood to defy him if he's feeling generous. Perhaps I'll post a clip of the almost-too-epic sequence I wrote in the dead of night last night with Within Temptation pumping my ears, interspersed with The Poet and the Pendulum by Nightwish. I think I expressed it best to Rykea, earlier today.

Me: Gosh, it's 10 PM and I'm done studying for my exam tomorrow. What should I do now?

Mordagus and Sylvanus: Well... we were going to have a really epic battle sequence in our beast forms, if you wanted to come to that. We kinda need someone to write it down...
Me: Yeah that sounds like a good time.
*later*
2 AM: Hey guys! I'm here!
Me: Oh shit. Who invited 2 AM?
Mordagus and Sylvanus: *point at each other*


The good times are over when 2 AM shows up.

Adieu, darlings.

Icarus is serious about checking under those rocks. Start immediately, please.