<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4742607228420377961</id><updated>2010-01-01T20:43:55.954Z</updated><title type='text'>LIFE AS IT HAS HAPPENED TO ME</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><link rel='next' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default?start-index=26&amp;max-results=25'/><author><name>katjakulkki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02640129051217386890</uri><email>katjakulk@hotmail.com</email></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>33</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>25</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4742607228420377961.post-8967928269827389080</id><published>2008-03-21T07:55:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-03-21T07:57:42.162Z</updated><title type='text'>What are girls made of ?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;“What are little boys made of? What are little boys made of? Frogs and snails, And puppy-dogs' tails; That's what little boys are made of. What are little girls made of? What are little girls made of? Sugar and spice, and all that's nice; That's what little girls are made of.”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Once upon a time I met a man that name was Giovanni. And he was dating a girl, well lets call her Katie. He asked Katie to out with him. They went to the movies and saw one of those so called intellectual movies. They talked and had fun. Few days after he finally dared to ask her to go out again. This time they went out for a dinner. They had fun together again.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;They continued dating regularly and after two months they were just dating each others and having what we call an exclusive relationship. And then, one evening, when they were driving back home, an idea came to Katie’s mind. She turned to see Giovanni driving and said it out loud; &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;“Have you being thinking that exactly two months have passed from the moment we met each others?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;A silent moment landed upon them. Katie thought that that was a very loud silent: there was no need for words.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;And she thought: Hmm, I wonder if he is thinking what I just said. Maybe he is thinking our relationship is limiting his life? Or maybe he is thinking that I am trying to force him to do something he doesn’t want to do or he is not ready to do….&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;And Giovanni thought: Damn, already two months.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;And Katie thought: But hey, neither I am sure if this is the kind of relationship I would like to have. I wish to have more time for myself that I could really see what is the direction that I would like our relationship to take in the future. Are we going to continue dating just on this level and not wanting to take it to the next level? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FI"&gt;Are we going to get married? To have children? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Do I want a baby boy or a girl?Am I ready for all this? Do I know him?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;And Giovanni thought: Two months....that means I need to take my car into an auto mechanic and change oils. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FI"&gt;Again.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;And Katie thinks: Oh no, now he is pissed off. I can see it from his face. Maybe I misunderstood his silent messages…maybe he just wants some kind of vicinity rather that a serious relationship…maybe he has already sensed that I have my doubts about this matter…ok, this is how it is; He doesn’t want to talk about his feelings. He is afraid to be abandoned from me.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;And Giovanni thinks: I wonder should I ask the mechanician check the motor as well. Damn, I don’t care a shit about what that idiot thinks; He don’t know cars as I do; Last time I paid him three hundred euros and for what…for nothing! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FI"&gt;A thief. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Do I need to buy a new car r perhaps a motorcycle? &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FI"&gt;And Katie thinks: Now he is angry. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;And I can’t blame him. I would be angry too. I feel myself so guilty for forcing him to go through all this shit. But I can’t help it, I am not sure about my feelings.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;And Giovanni thinks: Maybe the bloke at the gas station could give me some kind of guarantee for his work. Or maybe not. An asshole.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;And Katie thinks: Maybe I am too idealistic, I am hoping a charming knight to arrive with a white horse. I mean, I am sitting here next to a great guy who really cares about me and who is suffering for my egocentric childish thoughts.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;And Giovanni thinks: A guarantee? Come on: Am I kidding myself? What was I thinking about? Well, I will give them a guarantee and push it all the way in a place in which sun does not shine!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FI"&gt;”Giovanni?” Katie says.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;”What?”Giovanni wakes up from his thoughts.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;” Be kind, and stop torturing yourself in this way, Katie says with her eyes full of tears. I know, I should never have…Oh my god…I fell myself so….”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FI"&gt;”What?” Giovanni asks.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;”I know I am crazy,” Katie continues crying, ”I know that charming knights don’t exist. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FI"&gt;Believe me I know it. No knights and no horses. I have had such a hard life.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FI"&gt;” No horses...?” Giovanni says. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;”You do believe that I am crazy, don’t you?” Katie says.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;”No, I don’t believe so, says Giovanni, feeling happy that he can finally answer to a question he understands.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FI"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;”Things are like this at the moment…I mean…I need more time,” Katie says. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;(Two minutes break, during which Giovanni thinks as fast as he can, Finally he ends up what he considers a safe kind of answer.)&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FI"&gt;”So,”he says.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Katie is very touched from his words and gives him a kiss. “ O Giovanni, do you really think so?”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FI"&gt;”About what?” Giovanni asks.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FI"&gt;”About that.” Katie says.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FI"&gt;” Ah, about that, naturally. Giovanni says.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FI"&gt;Katie raises her glance towards Giovanni’s eyes and looks right into them. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Giovanni feels himself embarrassed as he is afraid what Katie might say. Especially if her words will have something to do with horses.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Finally Katie talks. ”Thanks Giovanni,”she says.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;”No, Thank you, ” Giovanni says. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Then he drives Katie back home. Katie is laying on her bed with her broken soul and cries until the next morning. Giovanni instead, goes home, throws couple of pizzas into the microwave, opens a beer can and feels very happy after noticing that his favourite soccer game is still on. An innocent voice in his brain is hinting him that something with a greater meaning happened just before in his car but he thinks to be quite sure that he could not never understand it and decides not to think about it.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;The following day, Katie calls to all her closest friends and they will talked about what happened the night before. They will analyze together all the painful details repeating “What did I say” “Men are dogs” “How did he look when he said that” “Men” and they will go on and on about it. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FI"&gt;For days. For weeks. For months. Until they will get annoyed and find a new topic. They will never resolve a thing that has something to do with men. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;They just know that they are dogs. Amen.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Couple of weeks after, Giovanni instead asks from his friend Alex (who also knows Katie), while they are playing with a one of those electronic equipments they own, has Katie never had a horse. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;No horse. No knight.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;And this is what all the little girls are made of.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4742607228420377961-8967928269827389080?l=katjakulkki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/feeds/8967928269827389080/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4742607228420377961&amp;postID=8967928269827389080' title='5 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/8967928269827389080'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/8967928269827389080'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/2008/03/what-are-girls-made-of.html' title='What are girls made of ?'/><author><name>katjakulkki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02640129051217386890</uri><email>katjakulk@hotmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14606822644402173370'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4742607228420377961.post-5690198442765287386</id><published>2008-03-19T17:06:00.000Z</published><updated>2008-03-19T17:07:50.351Z</updated><title type='text'>The Nordic Model</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Nordic model refers to the social models of the Nordic countries of the European Union. The general features of the system are: equality between men and woman, active employment policy, environment protection and sustainable development, education, lifelong learning, decentralised social models, universal social system, a high level of public expenses and heavily unionised workforce.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;“ The Nordic model is widely regarded as a benchmark. A number of comparative studies of economic and social performance have ranked the Nordics high. A common finding of cross-country comparisons is that the Nordics succeed better than other countries in combining economic efficiency and growth with a peaceful labour market, a fair distribution of income and social cohesion. The model is pointed to as a source of inspiration for other people in their search for a better social and economic system. On the other hand, many observers around the world are amazed that “the bumble-bee can fly” – that the Nordic economies can prosper and grow in spite of the presumably weak economic incentives associated with high tax wedges, a generous social security system and an egalitarian distribution of income. Critics have been looking for inner contradictions in the model and they have questioned its sustainability. Some argue that the economic performance of the Nordic countries is simply a result of exceptional and temporary advantages, bound to disappear over time.” ( The Nordic Model, Embracing globalization and sharing risk, The research institute of the Finnish Economy ETLA, page 12 ).”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;I am not a great devotee of the Nordic model and the above mentioned research based report is one of the most hilarious readings I have done for a long time. It does not even vainly touch the basics of what we need to stay well. Why to called it as a report even though it has all the humanistic lacks that an academic studies normally have. Nothing against the “report” but my point is that as it was made for ETLA for this should be considered from the part of us mortals as something “ true “, something to use in our university classes and as so much money probably was spent again for it, it would have being more interesting for it to included the humanistic side of life as well. Well I don’t question it to be usefull for business studies but as always…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;The Nordic model as welfare state has been able to stay put, after my opinion, because of its Lutheran value based working moral. However the system itself is decaying its own ankle&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;as we Nordics are not rewarded for working but for not working; A large class of people who are very happy with their unemployment benefits and have no inclination to ever find work. And hey, most of us is becoming atheistic anyway.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;What we did learn from the social bubble that we blew and also made explode in the early 1990s. Nothing. Would somebody have enough courage to abandon the still applicated model that works for us poorly considering its long term impacts? We are still believing that cutting smaller expensies is enough instead of having sufficient will to touch the bigger costs and make perhaps a right move. We don’t like to commit political suicides in &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Finland&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;. To go to pull out some of the basic pillars of our right believed social system and place it with an another pillar would be something far too outrageous for us to do.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Therefore, for those ones fed up with high tax rate or too solidar pay policy, I recommend to leave the country. The Nordic system could be easily ruined as globalisation becomes a more accepted part of our personal life. It would take about 200.000 highly educated brains to leave "us" to shake things, at least, for a little bit.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Finland, Finland, Finland&lt;br /&gt;The country where I want to be&lt;br /&gt;Pony trekking or camping&lt;br /&gt;Or just watching TV&lt;br /&gt;Finland, Finland, Finland&lt;br /&gt;It's the country for me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're so near to Russia&lt;br /&gt;So far from Japan&lt;br /&gt;Quite a long way from Cairo&lt;br /&gt;Lots of miles from Vietnam&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finland, Finland, Finland&lt;br /&gt;The country where I want to be&lt;br /&gt;Eating breakfast or dinner&lt;br /&gt;Or snack lunch in the hall&lt;br /&gt;Finland, Finland, Finland&lt;br /&gt;Finland has it all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're so sadly neglected&lt;br /&gt;And often ignored&lt;br /&gt;A poor second to Belgium&lt;br /&gt;When going abroad&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finland, Finland, Finland&lt;br /&gt;The country where I quite want to be&lt;br /&gt;Your mountains so lofty&lt;br /&gt;Your treetops so tall&lt;br /&gt;Finland, Finland, Finland&lt;br /&gt;Finland has it all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finland, Finland, Finland&lt;br /&gt;The country where I quite want to be&lt;br /&gt;Your mountains so lofty&lt;br /&gt;Your treetops so tall&lt;br /&gt;Finland, Finland, Finland&lt;br /&gt;Finland has it all&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finland has it all&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Finland&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-GB"&gt; – Monty Python&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4742607228420377961-5690198442765287386?l=katjakulkki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/feeds/5690198442765287386/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4742607228420377961&amp;postID=5690198442765287386' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/5690198442765287386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/5690198442765287386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/2008/03/nordic-model.html' title='The Nordic Model'/><author><name>katjakulkki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02640129051217386890</uri><email>katjakulk@hotmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14606822644402173370'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4742607228420377961.post-4875944157119409050</id><published>2008-03-18T17:21:00.008Z</published><updated>2009-02-24T17:56:15.697Z</updated><title type='text'>Eat me...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_-TWS3Rsr3Uc/R9_9xDLVlZI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/0NQMJKrCmyM/s1600-h/18032008081.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_-TWS3Rsr3Uc/R9_9xDLVlZI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/0NQMJKrCmyM/s200/18032008081.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5179137115607635346" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_-TWS3Rsr3Uc/R9_6aTLVlJI/AAAAAAAAAH0/dL7GuZSzWuI/s1600-h/16032008063.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4742607228420377961-4875944157119409050?l=katjakulkki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/feeds/4875944157119409050/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4742607228420377961&amp;postID=4875944157119409050' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/4875944157119409050'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/4875944157119409050'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/2008/03/blog-post.html' title='Eat me...'/><author><name>katjakulkki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02640129051217386890</uri><email>katjakulk@hotmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14606822644402173370'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_-TWS3Rsr3Uc/R9_9xDLVlZI/AAAAAAAAAJ0/0NQMJKrCmyM/s72-c/18032008081.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4742607228420377961.post-7872774262825116385</id><published>2008-03-16T16:45:00.001Z</published><updated>2008-03-18T13:29:00.218Z</updated><title type='text'>Nihilist views of the meaning of life</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Welcome spring, good bye night. From a nihilist point of view, morals arevalueless and only hold a place in society as hypocritical ideals created by various inflicts. The characteristic that distinguishes nihilism from other skeptic or relativist philosophies is that, rather than solely insisting that values are subjective or even warrantless, nihilism proclaims that nothing isof value, as the name implies. Which are your&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;values and would you claim them to be useless? Do we need moral values? Where does the road without them lead? Moral does not mean just the values themselves but also the system in which they operate. What are the differences between the moral values of a doctor and a green peace fanatic? Do you manage to keep apart your political values from your moral values? Should they walk hand in hand or should we keep them separate? What is moral and what is not? If I ask why you did a certain thing, would you be able to explain the course of your action? Did you behave in a certain way because you felt obligated to do so or do you have a clear opinion of what's wrong or what's right baby? Can our moral actions be explained by using the principles of social biology or evolution theory?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;How should we behave?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If Edward god damned &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Wilson&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; can give at least some kind of answers about the battle between the sexes, aggressive behaviour, being a philanthropist, different kinds of sexual behaviours; is the defining of good action in our lives so hard a thing to do? Why are our actions often so different from our moral opinions?&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;From my point of view, it would be great to receive some kind of guidance. &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;E. Wilson&lt;/st1:place&gt; says that a genetic explanation can be found for all kinds of social behaviours and phenomenons. Well how would you explain the non existence of our moral values and when it all started to go&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;wrong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;pre&gt;&lt;span style="font-size: 12pt; font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/pre&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;“ Standing on the courthouse dome&lt;br /&gt;Justice puts her blindfold on&lt;br /&gt;Down below the innocent are strutting&lt;br /&gt;On a catwalk of shame&lt;br /&gt;This year's fashion in crime will be&lt;br /&gt;Less child abuse, more blasphemy&lt;br /&gt;Morality is vanity&lt;br /&gt;The ugly given flattery grow vain&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So here we are again in cabaret&lt;br /&gt;At the cave of the Golden Calf&lt;br /&gt;Laughing in the face of desperation&lt;br /&gt;As we spin towards the future&lt;br /&gt;At one second per second&lt;br /&gt;Like records on the pin of a phonograph&lt;br /&gt;The future is no problem after all&lt;br /&gt;In the noise and smoke of the music hall&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And if you get no joy from music hall&lt;br /&gt;Remember there is always alcohol&lt;br /&gt;And if you get no joy from gin&lt;br /&gt;Give this world a miss&lt;br /&gt;Everybody sing&lt;br /&gt;Here is the abyss: jump in!”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Momus – Morality is Vanity&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4742607228420377961-7872774262825116385?l=katjakulkki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/feeds/7872774262825116385/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4742607228420377961&amp;postID=7872774262825116385' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/7872774262825116385'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/7872774262825116385'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/2008/03/nihilist-views-of-meaning-of-life.html' title='Nihilist views of the meaning of life'/><author><name>katjakulkki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02640129051217386890</uri><email>katjakulk@hotmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14606822644402173370'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4742607228420377961.post-2691762086153670565</id><published>2007-11-03T15:36:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-11-03T15:41:00.005Z</updated><title type='text'>Ignorance of the modern world</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;A Romanian young nomad killed an Italian middle-aged lady few days ago and after this unfortunately cruel episode, &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Rome&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt; has been a war zone. All of us have some kind of racist characters and during past years I have understood, how stupid, also me, have been. How naive it may sound, I want to be a better person from this point of view. Well, when asked to list the main characters of my personality, some of you, perhaps and hopefully, could consider me even as a good hearted person. But does being good counts in this evil world? &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;How sad it may sounds, I have started believing that it could be quite irrelevant after all. For 28 years I have tried to do my best, but have almost always found people that have taken advantage of it. I am quite easy going person, I think. World don’t fall apart and small things don’t matter. Be honest to others and to yourself, good manners, not being bossy but diplomatic, however do. Smile and other people smile to you. Should be simple, right? But frankly, it seems not to be so. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;This morning a nasty little “fellow” with his buddies waited bus with me. Spitting and talking terrible things about foreign people living in &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Rome&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;. I don’t want to use their exact words. While on the bus, I read a book, but woke up later on for this; I saw this little teenager nasty fellow, after getting off from the bus, punching a Pakistani man. Just because he was not Italian and just because lately every excuse is good to give shit to foreign people in &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Rome&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;. Ignorant parents, ignorant children. Italian TV shows as well its best; Romanian, English, Egyptian, Polish…shouldn’t it be illegal to give all these “national” details when not knowing if they are true or false. What I want to shout out is: stop generalizing. Your way is not always the best way. That’s your ignorance, I want to wash my hands of it. I have a tendency to be atheistic, but when believing, I hope that there will be a punishment to all unjust things made and words said.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The stage is an open platform&lt;br /&gt;I speak of personal conviction&lt;br /&gt;because of that I am a guest&lt;br /&gt;who's in charge&lt;br /&gt;it's an open forum&lt;br /&gt;music is music&lt;br /&gt;we're here to share what we know&lt;br /&gt;can we not coexist&lt;br /&gt;are there limits on being open minded&lt;br /&gt;are we a threat to you&lt;br /&gt;it seems to be personal&lt;br /&gt;but it doesn't have to be&lt;br /&gt;acceptance is a part of life&lt;br /&gt;tolerance is too&lt;br /&gt;we're to help not corrupt&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Educate the ignorant - Few left standing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4742607228420377961-2691762086153670565?l=katjakulkki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/feeds/2691762086153670565/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4742607228420377961&amp;postID=2691762086153670565' title='4 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/2691762086153670565'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/2691762086153670565'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/2007/11/ignorance-of-modern-world.html' title='Ignorance of the modern world'/><author><name>katjakulkki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02640129051217386890</uri><email>katjakulk@hotmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14606822644402173370'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4742607228420377961.post-7240854103252083311</id><published>2007-10-19T16:16:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-10-28T12:01:30.195Z</updated><title type='text'>Neighbours; The good, the bad and the ugly ones.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="text-align: justify;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Russian diplomat Vladimir Kozin has been finally recalled back to &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;Russia&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; from his duties in &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Finland&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;. It has been interesting to follow how quickly it happened after all. On the other hand I would not know for how long it takes to pack a diplomat's luggages. In ignorancy of this information, I can merely guess that less than twelve hours is the prevailing world record?&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;However, it would be even more interesting to know where Mr. Kozin has been sent to “work” after the political mess he caused. In &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;Finland&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; we use pretty often a saying “&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Siberia&lt;/st1:place&gt; teaches” from the Russian Empire. And after these days we all hope that this is the case in order to avoid the an another D-day. Earlier this week Kozin declared that possible Finnish membership would be a military treat to &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Russia&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;. What to say? I would love to believe that sending home Mr. Kozin would be a result of some kind of political pressure or protest from our part but after having followed the general line of my home country’s foreign politic, I don’t believe so. To see is to believe. After my opinion, our foreign politic is extremely passive and the image we give of ourselves to other countries is very insignificant. Wake up Finland.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Has &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;Finland&lt;/st1:country-region&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; published any official comments of Mr. Kozin’s “personal opinions” at the international level. Well, you know the answer. Or do you; I forgot that Foreign Minister Ilkka Kanerva said; “Fortunately, the presidents and foreign ministers have direct channels of communication that function so well that these kinds of things do not cause trouble.” Right, as if Finnish politics would have any kind of credibility abroad. At the most, we can leave a recall request on Putin's desk and hope he will find it?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;I spent last evening enjoying marvellous company. It’s always a pleasure to me to meet my former flatmate Roberto. Poor little thing. No doubt all my comprehension goes to Roberto; He has been suffering continuous torment from the part of his downstairs neighbours; Registered mail saying that he, with his flatmates, are walking around wearing clogs and partying all nights long. Giving this persecution few thoughts, we started making up ways to harass back Mr. neighbour. Not a easy cake as he is a lawyer. I personally offered to write on his new Mercedes an Italian word “rozzi” (rough/gross). One of my absolutely favourite words in Italian. One of the ideas was that every time Rob would receive one of these harassment letters, he would through a party. Luca, our absolutely favourite skipper, came up with the best idea. Often the most simple solutions are the best ones; Buy a piano. What could possibly be better than that? Legal action in the terms of Italian vendetta against legal harassment. Think about it; One can start playing musical instrument at sunlight and stop late evening. What would you think about that Mr. Lawyer? Hearing a beginner playing Fur Elise thousands times sounds bad or not? And when you think it's over,  you just need to wait for the moment the player will make a mistake and start all over again. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;He says, "Bill, I believe this is killing me."&lt;br /&gt;As the smile ran away from his face&lt;br /&gt;"Well I'm sure that I could be a movie star&lt;br /&gt;If I could get out of this place"&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;- Billy Joel – Piano Man&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4742607228420377961-7240854103252083311?l=katjakulkki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/feeds/7240854103252083311/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4742607228420377961&amp;postID=7240854103252083311' title='4 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/7240854103252083311'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/7240854103252083311'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/2007/10/neighbours-good-bad-and-ugly-ones.html' title='Neighbours; The good, the bad and the ugly ones.'/><author><name>katjakulkki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02640129051217386890</uri><email>katjakulk@hotmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14606822644402173370'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4742607228420377961.post-2871970216140364819</id><published>2007-09-25T12:50:00.001Z</published><updated>2009-04-01T14:05:42.466Z</updated><title type='text'>Ariccia's "Notte Bianca"</title><content type='html'>Dear Robin; Happy birthday to you, again. Time is precious, make the most of it. And dear somebody, thank you for the never ending four hours spent in car. We made the most of it. And Slavka, you are the best "art-editor" ever!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_-TWS3Rsr3Uc/RvkEWBXZWNI/AAAAAAAAAEE/1RbOT1iwbAQ/s1600-h/robin+synttarit4.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4742607228420377961-2871970216140364819?l=katjakulkki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/feeds/2871970216140364819/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4742607228420377961&amp;postID=2871970216140364819' title='1 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/2871970216140364819'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/2871970216140364819'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/2007/09/ariccias-notte-bianca.html' title='Ariccia&apos;s &quot;Notte Bianca&quot;'/><author><name>katjakulkki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02640129051217386890</uri><email>katjakulk@hotmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14606822644402173370'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4742607228420377961.post-6848456713439522010</id><published>2007-09-23T11:17:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-09-23T11:28:51.386Z</updated><title type='text'>Is it right to judge people on their taste in music and can music be judged?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FI"&gt;Teenkö oikein “tuomitessani” ihmisiä heidän musiikkimakunsa perusteella? Ystävät ja tuttavat, jotka astuvat asuntoomme huomaavat varmasti ensimmäiseksi joka paikassa olevat cd:ni. Makuuhuoneessa, keittiössä, olohuoneessa, vessassa. Cd levy pinoja. Jokaiselle hetkelle, jokaiselle muistolle, jokaiselle tilanteelle löytyy aina sille sopiva sävel. Viime vuosien aikana viettänyt tunteja viikosta musiikkihistorian parissa; Aina löytyy jotain uutta. Poikaystäväni on alkanut huomata minussa jotain outoa (liekö niin harvinainen asia ?); Soittamani kappaleet näyttävät, jonkin ihmeen vuoksi, tulemaan ns. listahiteiksi muutamien kuukausien kuluttua siitä, kun olen alkanut niitä aktiivisesti soittamaan. Selitys tähän voisi tietysti olla, että naapurimme mummo työskentelee pimeästi jonkinsortin radiokanavan dj:nä? Muutama päivä sitten luin eräästä aikakauslehdestä naisesta joka ennustaa muotia työkseen. Voisiko siis myös musiikkia ennustaa?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;You reached for the secret too soon, you cried for the moon.&lt;br /&gt;Shine on you crazy diamond.&lt;br /&gt;Threatened by shadows at night, and exposed in the light.&lt;br /&gt;Shine on you crazy diamond.&lt;br /&gt;Well you wore out your welcome with random precision,&lt;br /&gt;rode on the steel breeze.&lt;br /&gt;Come on you raver, you seer of visions, come on you painter,&lt;br /&gt;you piper, you prisoner, and shine!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Shine on you Crazy Diamond - Pink Floyd&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Per quelli che si sentono soffocati dalla lingua finlandese: www.outofhere.org&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FI"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4742607228420377961-6848456713439522010?l=katjakulkki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/feeds/6848456713439522010/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4742607228420377961&amp;postID=6848456713439522010' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/6848456713439522010'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/6848456713439522010'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/2007/09/is-it-right-to-judge-people-on-their.html' title='Is it right to judge people on their taste in music and can music be judged?'/><author><name>katjakulkki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02640129051217386890</uri><email>katjakulk@hotmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14606822644402173370'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4742607228420377961.post-5146013150755825063</id><published>2007-09-16T09:29:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-04-01T14:06:02.272Z</updated><title type='text'>Playing hide and seek....where's my skirt?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_-TWS3Rsr3Uc/Ruz36rh1YHI/AAAAAAAAAC8/sWFoV08pdrw/s1600-h/katja+e+slavka+da+robi.jpg"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4742607228420377961-5146013150755825063?l=katjakulkki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/feeds/5146013150755825063/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4742607228420377961&amp;postID=5146013150755825063' title='2 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/5146013150755825063'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/5146013150755825063'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/2007/09/playing-hide-and-seekwheres-my-skirt.html' title='Playing hide and seek....where&apos;s my skirt?'/><author><name>katjakulkki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02640129051217386890</uri><email>katjakulk@hotmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14606822644402173370'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4742607228420377961.post-682596571297126503</id><published>2007-09-05T16:19:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-09-05T16:49:33.954Z</updated><title type='text'>Do we want the US model where everyone is for themselves?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;" T&lt;/span&gt;he film &lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:placename st="on"&gt;Frozen&lt;/st1:PlaceName&gt; &lt;st1:placetype st="on"&gt;Land&lt;/st1:PlaceType&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt; by director Aku Louhimies begins optimistically enough with a thoughtful&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt; quote about the Finns by one of the country’s most famous rock groups, Eppu Normaali: “Born pure into the future’s hands in these cold and northern lands”.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;From this hopeful starting point the film descends into a gritty study of human weakness and the corruption of Nordic purity that embraces alcoholism, unemployment, a double murder, drug abuse, family violence and depression, all set in a darkened land of dirty, semi-frozen slush."&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;" Mr Louhimies’ gripping portrayal of modern Finland and the ambassador’s uneasy reaction to it capture the conundrum of 21st century Finland: here is a successful, welfare-based, competitive economy &lt;/span&gt;desperate&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt; to show itself as a modern European nation that is home to hip, young &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://mwprices.ft.com/custom/ft2-com/html-quotechartnews.asp?FTSite=FTCOM&amp;q=NOK1V&amp;amp;searchtype&amp;expanded=&amp;amp;countrycode=fi&amp;s2=fi&amp;amp;symb=NOK1V&amp;company=NEW" _base_target="_top"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Arial; color: windowtext; text-decoration: none;" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Nokia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;-clutching technological innovators, but which must also accept the reality that lies behind the stories in Frozen Land: mid-life unemployment breeding hopelessness, addiction, despair and deterioration. These issues are certainly not unique for Europe, but &lt;st1:country-region st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;Finland&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:country-region&gt; is a harsh country where such contrasts come starker than most."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p style="font-weight: bold;" class="MsoNormal"&gt;Published by Financial Times on 4th of september 2007&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4742607228420377961-682596571297126503?l=katjakulkki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/feeds/682596571297126503/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4742607228420377961&amp;postID=682596571297126503' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/682596571297126503'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/682596571297126503'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/2007/09/kuuleeko-suomi-ammutaanko-takaisin.html' title='Do we want the US model where everyone is for themselves?'/><author><name>katjakulkki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02640129051217386890</uri><email>katjakulk@hotmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14606822644402173370'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4742607228420377961.post-2564388106372381167</id><published>2007-09-01T10:27:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-09-01T11:04:17.763Z</updated><title type='text'>Happy birthday to me….ma sono vecchia o no?</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_-TWS3Rsr3Uc/RtlHDTQ4NmI/AAAAAAAAABM/k5CrQRaYViQ/s1600-h/1135229682334.gif"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_-TWS3Rsr3Uc/RtlHDTQ4NmI/AAAAAAAAABM/k5CrQRaYViQ/s320/1135229682334.gif" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105189774637413986" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FI"&gt;Olenko vanha? Näin ikäni kannalta on aivan mahtavaa asua Italiassa, koska 28-vuotiaana olen täällä vielä nuori. Pää ei hajoa, kun ei ole mitään ympäristön aiheuttamia paineita. Täällä ei vielä pidä omistaa omakotitaloa, kahta autoa, väh. kahta lasta ja kolmea kissaa näin melkein kolmekymppisenä. IHANAA. Toisaalta oman suomalaisen pääni sisällä nämä ajatukset liikkuvat aina silloin tällöin; Viime vuonna itkin ja raivosin pää punaisena sitä, että opiskelut on kesken, ei ole työpaikkaa, ei lapsia ja asuntokin on aivan pers...stä. Ulkopuoleisen mielestä tämä olisi ollut varmaan aika koomista. Kaikki meni rauhallisesti siihen saakka, kun Alessandro tuli ruusupuskan kanssa kotiin; Nähtyäni kukat, heitin kimpun vihaisesti maahan ja aloin itkemään/huutamaan. Hmm. Moni asia on muuttunut viime vuodesta. Ainakin toivottavasti. Juteltuani viimeksi hyvän kaverini Simonen kanssa Teveren rannalla, olimme samaa mieltä yhdestä asiasta; Suomessa aikuistutaan aivan liian nopeasti. En tiedä, kuinka paljon tästä aikuistumisprosessista on ”systeemin” sanelemaa, mutta yksi Italiassa arvostamistani asioista on se, että täällä nuoret saavat olla nuoria. Omasta mielestäni varhain kotoa poismuutto VOI pilata useitakin asioita esim. asettaa liikaa paineita omalle tulevalle ihmissuhteelle puhumatta niistä paineista mitä se voi tulevaisuudessa aiheuttaa omalle itsellesi. Omasta kumppanista on saatava kaikki mehut irti, koska omakuva, kuva vanhemmista ja vanhemmuudesta ei ole vielä täysin kehittynyt. Onko mm. Suositeltavaa, että nykypäivänä 20-vuotiaat nuoret muuttavat asumaan yksin tai sitten perustavat perheen verorahoilla? Itsenäisyys versus perhe-arvot? Mutta mikäpäs täällä auringossa kellitellessä on...hehehe. IHANAA OLLA NUORI!&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4742607228420377961-2564388106372381167?l=katjakulkki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/feeds/2564388106372381167/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4742607228420377961&amp;postID=2564388106372381167' title='3 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/2564388106372381167'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/2564388106372381167'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/2007/09/happy-birthday-to-mema-sono-vecchia-o.html' title='Happy birthday to me….ma sono vecchia o no?'/><author><name>katjakulkki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02640129051217386890</uri><email>katjakulk@hotmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14606822644402173370'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_-TWS3Rsr3Uc/RtlHDTQ4NmI/AAAAAAAAABM/k5CrQRaYViQ/s72-c/1135229682334.gif' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4742607228420377961.post-4759300534338693924</id><published>2007-08-27T07:42:00.002Z</published><updated>2009-04-01T14:04:44.676Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_-TWS3Rsr3Uc/RtKAvjQ4NjI/AAAAAAAAAA0/RzLOyJL-v0k/s1600-h/DSCF0623.JPG"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4742607228420377961-4759300534338693924?l=katjakulkki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/feeds/4759300534338693924/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4742607228420377961&amp;postID=4759300534338693924' title='2 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/4759300534338693924'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/4759300534338693924'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/2007/08/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>katjakulkki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02640129051217386890</uri><email>katjakulk@hotmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14606822644402173370'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4742607228420377961.post-5685218236142479500</id><published>2007-08-09T10:35:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-08-09T10:43:39.903Z</updated><title type='text'>"Out of office" - Here I come Finland, Ams</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FI"&gt;Vihdoinkin lomaa,. Ylihuomenna tulen heräämään Suomessa toivottavasti päivän paistaessa. Jos kunto kestää; 12 tuntia päivässä tietokoneella ei tee hyvää kenellekkään ja sukulaiset ja tuttavat, tästä syystä johtuen tulette tapaamaan minut ns. kenopäänä...&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FI"&gt;Ihanaa viettää aikaa Tanjan, Niinan ja vanhempien kanssa. Ja kiertää vähän Suomea. Muttei missään tapauksessa liikaa; Olen karsinut kaikennäköiset tapaamiset pois aikataulustamme; Viime vuosien aikana on tapahtunut, että olen lähtenyt takaisin Suomeen erittäin stressinä. Loma on lomaa ja tällä kertaa aion viettää sen perheeni kera. Here I come Turun saaristo, Tukholma ja Rauma...kait?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4742607228420377961-5685218236142479500?l=katjakulkki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/feeds/5685218236142479500/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4742607228420377961&amp;postID=5685218236142479500' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/5685218236142479500'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/5685218236142479500'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/2007/08/out-of-office-here-i-come-finland-ams.html' title='&quot;Out of office&quot; - Here I come Finland, Ams'/><author><name>katjakulkki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02640129051217386890</uri><email>katjakulk@hotmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14606822644402173370'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4742607228420377961.post-2307234902893209392</id><published>2007-08-02T08:55:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-08-02T08:56:34.417Z</updated><title type='text'>Semifreddo al cioccolato e menta</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span  lang="FI" style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Tämä on maailman paras jälkiruoka;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span  lang="FI" style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span  lang="FI" style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;5 munankeltuaista&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span  lang="FI" style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;2 munanvalkuaista&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:metricconverter productid="50 g" st="on"&gt;&lt;span  lang="FI" style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;50 g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:metricconverter&gt;&lt;span  lang="FI" style="font-family:Arial;"&gt; sokeria&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span  lang="FI" style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;500g kermaa&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span  lang="FI" style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;20g minttusiirappia&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;st1:metricconverter productid="50 g" st="on"&gt;&lt;span  lang="FI" style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;50 g&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/st1:metricconverter&gt;&lt;span  lang="FI" style="font-family:Arial;"&gt; suklaalastuja&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span  lang="FI" style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span  lang="FI" style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;100g tummaa sulatettavaa suklaata &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span  lang="FI" style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span  lang="FI" style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span  lang="FI" style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;Voitele pienet noin 1, 5-&lt;st1:metricconverter productid="2 dl" st="on"&gt;2  dl&lt;/st1:metricconverter&gt; kupit, jotka kestävät pakastamista; Silokonista tehdyt ovat vallan mainiot tämän jälkkärin valmistamiseen. Sulata tumma suklaa vesihauteessa, jäähdytä hieman ja peitä kuppien pohjat ja reunat kauttaaltaan sulatetulla suklaalla; Laita kupit pakastimeen edistääksesi suklaan jähmettymistä kuppejen sisäpinnalle. Vaahdota keltuaiset ja sokeri keskenään. Vaahdota 2 valkuaista erikseen kovaksi vaahdoksi. Vatkaa kerma. Lisää minttusiirappi keltuais-sokerivaahtoon. Sekoita hyvin. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Lisää kermavaahto ja valkuaisvaahto seokseen hyvin, mutta varovasti. Halutessa voit myös sekoittaa suklaalastuja seoksen joukkoon. Ota suklaakupit pakastimesta ja kaada seos kuppeihin. Pakasta noin kaksi tuntia. Ennen tarjoilua suklaakuppi on helpointa irrottaa kupista kastamalla se hetkeksi kiehuvaan veteen. Kumoa jälkiruoka laakealle lautaselle ja koristele esim. Suklaakastikkeella, tomusokerilla, mintunlehdillä ja vadelmilla.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4742607228420377961-2307234902893209392?l=katjakulkki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/feeds/2307234902893209392/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4742607228420377961&amp;postID=2307234902893209392' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/2307234902893209392'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/2307234902893209392'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/2007/08/semifreddo-al-cioccolato-e-menta.html' title='Semifreddo al cioccolato e menta'/><author><name>katjakulkki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02640129051217386890</uri><email>katjakulk@hotmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14606822644402173370'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4742607228420377961.post-7058354718626801882</id><published>2007-07-23T12:06:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-23T12:17:51.463Z</updated><title type='text'>Suomalaisten huumorintaju. Ja onko suomalaisilla huumorintajua?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"  style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FI"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;" lang="FI"&gt;Yksi uusi tuttuni tokaisi minulle sähköposti viestissään, että joskus minulla, Katja Tellervo Kulkilla (synt. 02-09-79), on taipumus olla vähän liian negatiivinen. Tarinan taustaa; Olin juuri kertonut sähköpostissä kyseiselle henkilölle erittäin itse-ironiseen malliin, että olin vinksauttanut nilkkani tanssimalla ja joutunut käymään töissä taksilla (jonka ns. hyvä-uskoinen pomoni maksoi) ja tämän jälkeen harrastanut wrestlingiä pölynimurini kanssa, joka taas aiheutti sen, että nyt koko jalastani on noin 50% toimintakunnossa. &lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: Georgia;" lang="FI"&gt;Herraguddia. Onko tämä suomalainen (vaiko liekö satakuntalainen) (paha?)tapa vai onko &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;kenties ”henkinen ikäni jo 80? Minkä vuoksi suomalaiset lyö leikkiä tai ylipäätänsä puhuu negatiivisista asioista tai minkä vuoksi ulkomailla ei ole kohteliasta puhua niistä; Italiassa pääsääntö on se, ettei täällä aleta koskaan puhumaan omista henkilökohtaisista asioista puolituttujen tai ei edes hyvienkään tuttujen kanssa. Viva Arto Paasilinna ja suomalainen huumorintaju.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;span style=";font-family:georgia;font-size:100%;"  lang="FI" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4742607228420377961-7058354718626801882?l=katjakulkki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/feeds/7058354718626801882/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4742607228420377961&amp;postID=7058354718626801882' title='5 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/7058354718626801882'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/7058354718626801882'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/2007/07/suomalaisten-huumorintaju-ja-onko.html' title='Suomalaisten huumorintaju. Ja onko suomalaisilla huumorintajua?'/><author><name>katjakulkki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02640129051217386890</uri><email>katjakulk@hotmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14606822644402173370'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4742607228420377961.post-3696251278717627810</id><published>2007-07-17T08:42:00.001Z</published><updated>2007-07-17T08:46:44.331Z</updated><title type='text'>Paikka, jossa aika loppuu</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FI"&gt;Työtoverini (toveri siinä mielessä, että hän on puolalainen) kesäloma alkoi ja joudun paahtumaan 12 tuntia päivässä töissä huutamassa kurkku punaisena remonttireiskoillemme, jotka työskentelevät tällä hetkellä uusien huoneiden parissa. Tämäkin kai on vähintään kymmenen pisteen suoritus siinä ihanassa elänmänkoulussa, josta kaikki haaveilevat. Suomesta saapuneelle tytöllä jää kuitenkin erittäin epäselväksi miksi töihin pitää tulla liian ajoissa tai liian myöhään. Tänään sain kuitenkin selityksen yhdeltä Reiskoista, joka tadaa; Opiskelee fysiikkaa.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FI"&gt;Aikaa ei voi tarkkailla. Se kuluu, mutta emme osaa sanoa, mikä silloin kuluu. Emme myöskään tiedä, mistä aika koostuu. Newton oli väärässä?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4742607228420377961-3696251278717627810?l=katjakulkki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/feeds/3696251278717627810/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4742607228420377961&amp;postID=3696251278717627810' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/3696251278717627810'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/3696251278717627810'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/2007/07/paikka-jossa-aika-loppuu_17.html' title='Paikka, jossa aika loppuu'/><author><name>katjakulkki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02640129051217386890</uri><email>katjakulk@hotmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14606822644402173370'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4742607228420377961.post-4994339168052708405</id><published>2007-07-15T14:17:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-23T11:16:11.443Z</updated><title type='text'>Pässi ja Illuusia</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FI"&gt;Miten tässä nyt TAAS pääsi näin käymään. Eräässä 18 saavutetun vuoden kunniaksi saamassani syntymäpäiväkortissa luki "se, joka kuuseen kurkottaa se katajaan kapsahtaa" ja mihinkäs sitä vanhoista tavoistaan pääsisi. Omasta mielestäni minulla on erittäin päteviä, toteuttamisen arvoisia ajatuksia, mutta niiden toteuttaminen on saanut minut kapsahtamaan erittäin monta kertaa katajaan tai sitten satun ajattelemaan liian ylevästi asioista tai ihmisistä yleensä. Comoon Katja: Free your mind.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FI"&gt;Eilen täällä Roomassa oli Genesiksen ilmainen ulko-ilma konsertti. En tiedä moniko tuntemistani ihmisistä olivat ostaneet liput Genesiksen konserttiin Helsingissä, mutta täällä se oli ilmaista viihdettä..&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FI"&gt;Ja Suomi jälleen otsikoissa – keihäänheiton jälkeen.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="FI"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Se Atene piange, Sparta non ride.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4742607228420377961-4994339168052708405?l=katjakulkki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/feeds/4994339168052708405/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4742607228420377961&amp;postID=4994339168052708405' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/4994339168052708405'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/4994339168052708405'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/2007/07/pssi-ja-illuusia.html' title='Pässi ja Illuusia'/><author><name>katjakulkki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02640129051217386890</uri><email>katjakulk@hotmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14606822644402173370'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4742607228420377961.post-2151200431998632826</id><published>2007-07-13T13:00:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-13T13:01:40.439Z</updated><title type='text'>I am in pain.</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Apua. Taas Teverellä, tällä kertaa ruotsalaisen ystäväni Marian kanssa. Tangoa tanssimassa. &lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Rooman Sata-Häme soi ja tanssii. Klenkkautin nilkkani aika pahasti, joten tänään taksilla töihin. Niin sanottu klenkkauttaminen ei olisi ollut pahasta, mutta taisin myös palelluttaa sen yön aikana. Jääpussilla. &lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;San Francisco&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:City&gt;; You richly deserve this as you are the best dance teacher in the world. And there’s a reason why you can call me the “Goddess of Dance”. Hauskaa oli ja olen harkitsenut useasti vaihtavani “ammattia”, mutta tanssijan ura jääköön muille. Ainakin tangon.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;          &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;“ Aavan meren tuolla puolen jossakin on maa,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt; Missä onnen kaukorantaan laine liplattaa.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  Missä kukat kauneimmat luo aina loistettaan,&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  Siellä huolet huomisen voi jäädä unholaan. ”&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4742607228420377961-2151200431998632826?l=katjakulkki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/feeds/2151200431998632826/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4742607228420377961&amp;postID=2151200431998632826' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/2151200431998632826'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/2151200431998632826'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/2007/07/i-am-in-pain.html' title='I am in pain.'/><author><name>katjakulkki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02640129051217386890</uri><email>katjakulk@hotmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14606822644402173370'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4742607228420377961.post-1622357940455400607</id><published>2007-07-13T12:43:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-13T12:47:15.378Z</updated><title type='text'>Tutto quello che serve per una vacanza finlandese...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt; "Birra&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;: Bevanda mediamente alcolica (quella marcata III) o abbastanza alcolica (la “IV.A”, sigla misteriosa che però in finlandese significa “buonissima”), è l’unico detergente stomatologico post-makkara. La birra I, sul mercato ancora qualche anno fa, avevano cominciato a darla ai neonati, e dunque le autorità sanitarie l’avevano tolta dal commercio. Della II non s’è mai saputo nulla: deve aver fatto la fine della fantomatica Tangenziale II della quale si hanno solo sparsi frammenti. Combinata con il “viina” (distillato di oltre 40 gradi), in serie alternata, soprattutto nelle ore serali produce la mutazione dello Jukka-Pekka nel Matti. Da cui il detto: “Ti fa ammattire”.&lt;u1:p&gt;&lt;/u1:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;Rimedio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;: introdurre il monopolio della Peroni.&lt;u1:p&gt;&lt;/u1:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;Cetriolo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;: in realtà un cetriolone lungo due palmi, di forma leggermente arcuata, infilato diosaccòme in un preservativo trasparente, che viene progressivamente svolto a mano a mano (mmmh) che lo si consuma, tagliandolo a dischetti deposti poi sulla suoletta di pane, sopra lo strato di burro e sotto quella di  pomodoro. I bambini finlandesi credono che nasca così sulle piante, perché non l’hanno mai visto nudo. Non sa di nulla, ma ha la stessa forma del màkkara (&lt;i&gt;vedi voce&lt;/i&gt;), da cui il sospetto che sia un rituale luterano di espiazione.&lt;u1:p&gt;&lt;/u1:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;Rimedio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;: cambiare religione, e ingozzarsi cattolicamente di màkkara.&lt;u1:p&gt;&lt;/u1:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;Edam&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;: Un blocco, sui &lt;st1:metricconverter productid="2 kg" st="on"&gt;2 kg&lt;/st1:metricconverter&gt; in genere, di sostanza lipidica avvolta in plastica trasparente (stessa pianta del cetriolo) che i genitori definiscono formaggio ma che i bambini (ah, gli innocenti!) chiamano semplicemente “grasso”: &lt;b&gt;Äiti, pane rasvaa! &lt;/b&gt;“mamma, metti del grasso!”. La forma a mattone è un adattamento all’uso: comoda per tagliarlo a fettine sottili, usando una spatola usata anche per i cetrioli, e deposto sul pane imburrato. &lt;u1:p&gt;&lt;/u1:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;Rimedio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;: Scambiarlo per un mattone vero e, usando il burro come malta, alzare un muretto ornamentale.&lt;u1:p&gt;&lt;/u1:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;Màkkara&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;: wurstel di forma arcuata, duro al contatto, facile da infilzare su uno stecco e bruciacchiare sul fuoco. Non manca mai nello zainetto del piccolo esploratore e del suo papà. Nelle scuole viene offerto ai bambini nei giorni di festa, negli ospedali servito ai malati e agli anziani come ricostituente. È a tal punto un simbolo nazionale che gli hanno eretto un monumento: la “Màkkaratalo”, di fronte alla stazione centrale. La domenica le mamme finlandesi ci portano davanti i bambini e, come le mamme bolognesi davanti al Nettuno del Giambologna, gli fanno: “Vedi? Se mangi il màkkara (i tortellini) della mamma, da grande diventi grosso così”. &lt;u1:p&gt;&lt;/u1:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;Rimedio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;: non esiste, ma è allo studio un vaccino.&lt;u1:p&gt;&lt;/u1:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;Mökki (e suo puuC)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;: rustica baita di pianura, fatta di tronchi d’albero, con porta che chiude a spinta, avente per maniglia un ramo d’albero a gomito, arredato con mobiletti della nonna anni ’50, una pelle d’alce su una parete, due letti a castello e, soprattutto, un sano puzzo di muffa che fa tanto intimo. Il &lt;b&gt;bagno&lt;/b&gt; non c’è, o meglio non dentro: c’è normalmente il &lt;b&gt;puuC&lt;/b&gt; (pronuncia “pu:se”, cesso di legno), un gabbiotto esterno fatto con tavole di legno, coetaneo del mökki, dotato di un asse e un buco a gravità naturale, posto fuori a circa &lt;st1:metricconverter productid="50 metri" st="on"&gt;50  metri&lt;/st1:metricconverter&gt; in posizione più elevata, cui si arriva per un sentierino in mezzo a cespugli e piantine di mirtillo che sono l’habitat naturale delle zanzare. Il percorso notturno, che si fa di corsa e in apnea, per arrivare al gabbio, sedersi, e poi rientrare, è una variante locale delle forche caudine, e la posizione sull’asse, sventagliando le mani alla cieca per difendersi dagli attacchi di zanzare e tafani, è detta “Ecce homo”.  &lt;u1:p&gt;&lt;/u1:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;Rimedio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;: interiorizzare.&lt;u1:p&gt;&lt;/u1:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;Nàapuri&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;: elemento fondamentale della vacanza, come il mökki e il makkara. Significa “vicino”, ma va tenuto “lontano” il più possibile. Negli annunci per affittare i mökki, solo in Finlandia, accanto ai dati sulla topografia del luogo, la superficie della costruzione, i servizi e la distanza dalla riva, si legge regolarmente, perché incide nettamente sul prezzo: “Naapuri: &lt;st1:metricconverter productid="100 metri" st="on"&gt;100 metri&lt;/st1:metricconverter&gt;”; oppure “Naapuri: &lt;st1:metricconverter productid="51 metri" st="on"&gt;51 metri&lt;/st1:metricconverter&gt;, ma non si vede”; oppure “Naapuri: &lt;st1:metricconverter productid="50 metri" st="on"&gt;50 metri&lt;/st1:metricconverter&gt;, ma c’è di rado”. Se Sartre fosse stato finlandese, avrebbe scritto “I naapurit, l’inferno”.&lt;u1:p&gt;&lt;/u1:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;Rimedio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;: affittare un mökki su un’isoletta, e sparare a vista.&lt;u1:p&gt;&lt;/u1:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;Pane di segale&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;:  Pane scuro, a forma di pagnotta, oppure di disco schiacciato con un buco in mezzo (detto “pane col buco”). Dopo un giorno diventa duro come una suola di scarpa invernale, ma i locali vi diranno che è “buonissimo”. Dipende. In realtà vedrete che la suoletta non viene mangiata da sola, e nemmeno tocciata (è impermeabile), ma spalmata di uno strato di un centimetro di burro o margarina, il che ne giustifica la natura di “supporto”. &lt;u1:p&gt;&lt;/u1:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;Rimedio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;: dichiararsi allergici ai cereali, e abboffarsi di patate.&lt;u1:p&gt;&lt;/u1:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;Puukko&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;: coltellaccio affilato, celebri quelli della ditta Marttiini, che ogni buon maschio finlandese porta in campagna alla cintola, e in città dentro il calzino. Buono per nessun uso pratico, sempre troppo grande o troppo piccolo, è tenuto in serbo per l’incontro col Grande Orso e, di solito, viene fatto luccicare al sole  in direzione del naapuri (&lt;i&gt;vedi voce&lt;/i&gt;), soprattutto quello sotto i &lt;st1:metricconverter productid="100 metri" st="on"&gt;100  metri&lt;/st1:metricconverter&gt;. Il vero finlandese non se ne separa mai, e da ciò, la notte, dopo il rientro dal &lt;b&gt;puuC&lt;/b&gt; (&lt;i&gt;vedi voce&lt;/i&gt;), i numerosi casi di ferite da arma da taglio.&lt;u1:p&gt;&lt;/u1:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;Rimedio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;: No Marttiini, no tagli. &lt;u1:p&gt;&lt;/u1:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;Puuro d’avena&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;: pappa d’avena di gusto amarognolo, che potreste immaginare come pasto di un bagno penale, e che va ingurgitato a colazione perché “è sano”. Diamine, non vorrete mica godere sin dalla mattina!&lt;u1:p&gt;&lt;/u1:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;Rimedio: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;Dichiaratevi allergici ai cereali, e vi andrà bene, perché così eviterete anche la suoletta del pane di segale. &lt;u1:p&gt;&lt;/u1:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText"&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt; &lt;b&gt;Tomaatti&lt;/b&gt;: ortofrutticolo di colore rosso vivo, di cui esiste un unico tipo, formato pallina da tennis, identico a quelli olandesi da cui trae sua semenza, ed è tirato su con identiche tecnologie. È un frutto “da tasto”, nel senso che i finlandesi li palpeggiano uno ad uno, con voluttà, prima di riporli nella cesta del supermercato, perché l’unico tratto (binario) che li distingue è + duro / - duro. Ma (d’inverno) quello &lt;b&gt;kotimainen&lt;/b&gt; (“nostrano”) raggiunge un prezzo triplo del gemello olandese, con sgomento dei nostri connazionali, che finalmente capiscono cosa vuol dire “pomo d’oro”, ma restano ignari del patto di sangue (di pummarola) che lega tra loro i finlandesi e il loro PIL.  &lt;u1:p&gt;&lt;/u1:p&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoBodyText"&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;Rimedio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;: introdurre il pomo d’argento e quello di bronzo. &lt;u1:p&gt;&lt;/u1:p&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;Zanzare&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;: insetti perversi le cui femmine si nutrono di sangue caldo, e che si accaniscono soprattutto con gli stranieri (come gli ubriachi in città). Mentre voi vi cospargete di OFF puzzolente, e piagnucolate dandovi delle pacche, i locali vi guarderanno con compatimento e, se mai disturbati dalla bestiola, scuoteranno la testa, come per allontanare un’idea sgradevole. &lt;u1:p&gt;&lt;/u1:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:10;"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;i&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;Rimedio&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/i&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:10;"  &gt;: iscriversi al sindacato cinematografico: non esiste un solo film finlandese, di quelli girati d’estate, tra le canne lacustri, sui pontili, in cui si veda o oda mai una stramaledetta zanzara in azione."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;P.S Grazie  Frank.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4742607228420377961-1622357940455400607?l=katjakulkki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/feeds/1622357940455400607/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4742607228420377961&amp;postID=1622357940455400607' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/1622357940455400607'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/1622357940455400607'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/2007/07/and-i-am-in-pain.html' title='Tutto quello che serve per una vacanza finlandese...'/><author><name>katjakulkki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02640129051217386890</uri><email>katjakulk@hotmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14606822644402173370'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4742607228420377961.post-2429549758246318575</id><published>2007-07-11T13:47:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-11T14:17:03.088Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;“If you hate a person, you hate something in him that is part of yourelf. What isn’t part of ourselves doesn’t disturb us” H. Hesse.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Tältä perusteelta katsoen minusta löytyy varmasta miljoona negatiivista puolta? Vihaan ihmisiä jotka puhuvat samalla kuin syövät, huonostikäyttäytyviä ihmisiä julkisilla paikoilla, laiskoja, välinpitämättömiä, siivottomia, “liian” pirteitä, lääkäreitä, liian ulapalla olevia ja niin edespäin. Vihaan ihmisiä, jotka päästää totuuden suustaan liian pian. Arvoituksien kanssa on niin paljon mielenkiintoisempaa viettää aikaa. On niin paljon mielenkiintoisempaa löytää yksityiskohtia pikkuhiljaa . Koska asiat muuttuvat, kun niistä aletaan puhumaan.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;“ Everything becomes a little different as soon as it is spoken out loud”.?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4742607228420377961-2429549758246318575?l=katjakulkki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/feeds/2429549758246318575/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4742607228420377961&amp;postID=2429549758246318575' title='2 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/2429549758246318575'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/2429549758246318575'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/2007/07/if-you-hate-person-you-hate-something.html' title=''/><author><name>katjakulkki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02640129051217386890</uri><email>katjakulk@hotmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14606822644402173370'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4742607228420377961.post-8747362026571836004</id><published>2007-07-10T16:33:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-10T16:40:16.310Z</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>“Il più formidabile nemico dei finlandesi è la malinconia, l’introversione, una sconfinata apatia. Un senso di gravezza aleggia su questo popolo sfortunato, tenendolo da migliaia di anni sotto il suo giogo, tingendone lo spirito di cupa seriosità. Ma i finlandesi sono al tempo stesso un popolo combattivo. Non cedono mai.” A. Paasilinna.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Vihdoinkin kaksi päivää vapaata putkeen ja sen kyllä huomaa. Aivoilleni on suotu aivan liian monta vapaata tuntia ajatella. Viime tuntejen kuluessa sitä on tullut mietittyä paljonkin omaa tapaani elää. Ja olen tullut tulokseen, että se kulkee korkeintaan kolmen vuoden sykleissä. Kolme vuotta kulunut ja haluan, että vanhat asiat kehittäytyvät eteenpäin tai niiden tilalle on hankittava uusia asioita. 27 vuotta vanha rolling stone. Joskus toivon, etten olisi koskaan lähtenyt katsomaan maailmaa; Elämältä tulisi kai haluttua vähemmän asioita? Mitä enemmän on tullut koettua tai nähtyä, sitä enemmän sydän halajaa?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Viimeiset kaksi päivää olen viettänyt Perugina rajalla en suinkaan syömässä suklaata, vaan lukemassa erään tuttuni kirjoittamaa kirjaa. Mielenkiintoinen kokemus. Lukea jonkun tuntemansa ihmisen kirjoittama kirja. On jännittä huomata arvioinsa omaa mahdollisuutta siitä, kuinka paljon kirjoitetuista asioista perustuvat tosi-elämään ja kuinka paljon niiden haluaisi perustuvan kirjoittajan elämään. Haaveenani on aina ollut kirjoittaa kirja; Katja’s story. Ehkä kuitenkin lyhyt tarinoiden kirjoittaminen olisi omiaan minulle. Elämä menee aina eteenpäin vain hetkittäin pysähtyäkseen muutamiksi päiviksi, viikoiksi, kuukausiksi joiden aikana ei tapahdu mitään.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4742607228420377961-8747362026571836004?l=katjakulkki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/feeds/8747362026571836004/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4742607228420377961&amp;postID=8747362026571836004' title='0 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/8747362026571836004'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/8747362026571836004'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/2007/07/il-pi-formidabile-nemico-dei-finlandesi.html' title=''/><author><name>katjakulkki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02640129051217386890</uri><email>katjakulk@hotmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14606822644402173370'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4742607228420377961.post-6735097535487194987</id><published>2007-07-08T08:59:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-07-08T11:36:54.306Z</updated><title type='text'>Hei hei mitä kuuluu?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Mietin syytä siihen mink takia en ole pitkään aikaan päivittänyt blogiani; Laiskuus? Onko mitään uutta tapahtunut? Elämän suuret pienet kriisit? Hei hei mitä kuuluu? Onko kaikki ok?&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Uutisia Italiasta: kuuma on kun kesää pitää. Ei ole mitään ihmeempää tapahtunut, mutta kulunut viikko on ollut aika tapahtuma rikas. And this is how the story goes;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Passihakemuksen jättäminen Suomen suurlähetystöön oli yksi tämän viikon saavutuksista. Jouduin juoksemaan hikipäässä ympäri suurlähetystä etsiäkseni jonkin sortin valokuvausliikettä; Suurlähetystö uhkasi sulkea “luukun kiinni nenäni edestä”. Tulevaa passiani tuleekin koristamaan erittäin soma, täysin meikitön, hiukset liimattuina poskille kuva. Hien voi melkein vielä haistaa; Onko ketään koskaan juossut 3 kilometriä täysillä 42-asteessa? Ei. &lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Rakkaat ystäväni Simone ja Annukka tulivat Italiassa käymään; Annukka on raskaana. Eräs iltapäivä ajattelimme lähteä shoppailemaan An kanssa ja saimme osamme paskamaisesta italialaisesta asiakaspalvelusta. A:lla sattui olemaan tapaturma altis päivä ja vaeltaessamme yhdessä liikkeessä, hän astui ruosteiseen varashälyttimen piikkiin. Auts;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Annukka: Perk…&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="" lang="EN-GB"&gt;Katja myyjälle: neiti, olisikohan teillä täällä vessaa johon kaverini pääsisi pesemään jalkansa; Huom raskaana. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Myyjä: Ei meillä ole vessaa.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Katja: Hmm…&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Katja: aaagh…ainakin disinfektointiainetta ja laastareita?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Myyjä: Noup. Kiitos ja näkemiin.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Katja inttää vastaan.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;Viimeinkin eräs MIESpuolisista myyjistä toi meille desinfiointiainetta, pumpulia ja jopa laastareita.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;Nääs Nääs päiviteltiin tätä asiaa ja istahdettiin yhteen jäätelöbaariin jätskille, jonka vedin viiden minuutin päästä väärään kurkkuun kuullessani Annukalta, että Simonen serkku oli menossa kyseisen päivän aikana naimisiin. Japanissa. Surkuhupaisaa; Olen&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;“ryhmäni” ainut naimaton (melkein) edustaja. Miten tässä näin pääsi käymään. Minä leikein barbeilla häitä.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;  &lt;/p&gt;Shokista toipuminen tuli kalliiksi; Tuli ostettua superihanahamejalaukku… Kompulssiivinen impulssiivinen shoppailija? Mutta ei siinä vielä kaikki;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Seuraavana päivänä tuli riideltyä yhden jos toisenkin ihmisen kanssa, joten tästä syystä kurkkuani kuivasi&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;lähteässäni pois töistä: äiti, kun luet tätä minulla ei ole alkoholi-ongelmaa, vaikka kirjoitankin melkein aina asioista, jotka minulle on tapahtunut ns. nauravakulkuri-tilassa. Kaverini Hanna lupasi tulla minulle seuraksi… mutta jouduinkin soittamaan Robertolle booty-call:in. Entisestä kämppiksestäni on minulle erittäin paljon apua, kun aivoissani keittää. Roberto, mies (?) jonka kanssa asuin viisi vuotta yhdessä emmekä koskaan tapelleet. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Jalkani suuntasivat Tevere-joelle, jonka rannalle on pystytetty näin kesäisin baareja joka makuun. Roberton seurueeseen kuuluivat myös V, MG ja yksi nainen, jonka nimeä en muista. Nauroin ja nautein. Ihanaa puhua ihmisten kanssa joilla on sanottavaa.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Olen ikuisessa kiitollisuudenvelassa Robertolle. Oli uskomaton kokemus asua ihmisen kanssa jolla on mielipiteitä. Kodissa, joka vilisi näyttelijöitä, kirjottajia, lavastajia ja soittajia. Olen vakaasti sitä mieltä, että elämäni ei olisi oikeesti näin täyttä ilman Robertoa. Kiitos sinulle, joka autoit minua oppimaan ymmärtämään.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;                   We know what we are, but know not what we may be.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4742607228420377961-6735097535487194987?l=katjakulkki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/feeds/6735097535487194987/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4742607228420377961&amp;postID=6735097535487194987' title='2 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/6735097535487194987'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/6735097535487194987'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/2007/07/hei-hei-mit-kuuluu.html' title='Hei hei mitä kuuluu?'/><author><name>katjakulkki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02640129051217386890</uri><email>katjakulk@hotmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14606822644402173370'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4742607228420377961.post-1878848662375922028</id><published>2007-05-13T11:04:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-05-13T11:09:57.660Z</updated><title type='text'>Katso paremmin...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_-TWS3Rsr3Uc/Rkbw7PdiY8I/AAAAAAAAAAc/Ccr56hGDob0/s1600-h/11749753331365.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_-TWS3Rsr3Uc/Rkbw7PdiY8I/AAAAAAAAAAc/Ccr56hGDob0/s320/11749753331365.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5063999731578069954" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nukuin viime yona about kaksi tuntia, koska "oli aivan pakko" katsoa euroviisut satelliitin kautta saksaksi. Aivosoluni vasyivat, koska yritin kovin ymmartaa saksankielta. Jollen revennyt eilen tunteassani myotahapeaa nain kollektiivisesti montaakin maata kohden, niin viimeistaan silloin kun nain taman kuvan netissa.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4742607228420377961-1878848662375922028?l=katjakulkki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/feeds/1878848662375922028/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4742607228420377961&amp;postID=1878848662375922028' title='2 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/1878848662375922028'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/1878848662375922028'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/2007/05/katso-paremmin.html' title='Katso paremmin...'/><author><name>katjakulkki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02640129051217386890</uri><email>katjakulk@hotmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14606822644402173370'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_-TWS3Rsr3Uc/Rkbw7PdiY8I/AAAAAAAAAAc/Ccr56hGDob0/s72-c/11749753331365.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4742607228420377961.post-8083617977005125710</id><published>2007-03-25T17:46:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-03-25T18:13:03.511Z</updated><title type='text'>ZZZZzzzzzz......</title><content type='html'>Kylla nukuttaa. Unirytmi aika sekaisin, kun jotuu puolet viikosta heraamaan viidelta ja puolet viikosta saisi nukkua puoleen paivaan saakka.  Pitaisi olla kevatta rinnassa, kun kerran viisareitakin siirrettiin eteenpain, mutta kylla vasyttaa niin pirusti. Piruista puheenollen: joku oli jattanyt anonyymin kommentin viimeisen blogin peraan. Eiko se Suomi oli niin Jumalan selan takana, etta siella taitaa olla ihan takatalvi... ? Per favore, seuraavalla kerralla puumerkki peraan.&lt;br /&gt;Lassyttaakseni ilmoista, taalla on meneillaan sellainen alkava monsuunisade aika. Vetta sataa joka paiva amparista. Hyttyset on jo lehman kokoisia, kun on kuiteskin lamminta ja kosteata pidellyt. Global warming..&lt;br /&gt;Kylla kornii tanaan. Olen paiskinut aika tavalla toita talla viikolla ja tanaan olisi pitanyt olla vain muutama tunti toissa, mutta...yksi hotellin asukeista oli hukannut matkalaukkunsa joten sita taalla nyt sitten joutuu odottamaan. Kirottu Alitalia. Siita pahasta ei paase eroon ei sitten millaan. Kai sita joutuu sitten koisimaan huomenna ja tuhlaamaan siihen vapaapaivani. Saalittavaa; Olen yrittanyt nukkua sunnuntaisin aina varastoon, jotta maanantaina sitten jaksaisi jotain muutakin.&lt;br /&gt;Luciana kaverini tuossa soitteli. Nyt on Roomakin muuttumassa joka teinityton paratiisiksi. Hennes&amp;Mauritz avaa tanne putiikkinsa taman kuun lopussa. Jee (ironinen jee). Jos tanne viela sais raitista ilmaa ja puhtaan luonnon, niin sittenhan tama kiaupunki olisi aivan fantastico :) Vaikken olekkaan enaa teini, harmi (ironinen harmi) niin taytyy silti myontaa, etta liksa ei kuitenkaan riita Pradojen ja Guccien osteluun... joten H&amp;amp;M here I come. With Luciana. Ja mika parasta, vihdoinkin sellainen liike joidenka housuihin mahdun! Yleensa saan vain kasivarteni italialaisista punteista sisaan. Jos sitakaan.&lt;br /&gt;Jaaha jatkan samoista asioista vatvomista asiakkaiden kanssa ja sita kirotun matkalaukun odottelua...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4742607228420377961-8083617977005125710?l=katjakulkki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/feeds/8083617977005125710/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4742607228420377961&amp;postID=8083617977005125710' title='1 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/8083617977005125710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/8083617977005125710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/2007/03/zzzzzzzzzz.html' title='ZZZZzzzzzz......'/><author><name>katjakulkki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02640129051217386890</uri><email>katjakulk@hotmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14606822644402173370'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4742607228420377961.post-8579775611721078146</id><published>2007-03-18T14:14:00.000Z</published><updated>2007-03-25T17:46:09.550Z</updated><title type='text'>Save the whales!</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;" align="center"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;Domenica. Sunnuntai. JA TAAS TOISSA. Huomasin, etta Mari serkku on jattanyt hyvinkin tosiperaista kommenttia... :) Terveisia vaan kaikille ja tervetuloa! Ei taalla auta, kuin odotella.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ihanaa herata sunnuntai aamulla ja huomata joutuvansa kavelemaan toihin. Pikku lenkki ei olisi pahaksi, mutta talla kertaa joudun meilkein holkkaamaan noin kuusi kilometria. Syy? Vuosittainen maratoni. Jippii. Saatiedotukset ei pida koskaan paikkaansa. Aamulla luvattiin, etta ilma kylmenisi yllattaen noin kymmenen astetta, joten tuli sita sitten holkattya toppatakissa... Tajusin olevani aika rapakunnossa, kun noin kahdeksankymmenen ikainen herrasmies jolkutti shortseissa ohitseni. No onhan sita punttisalille menoa tullut mietittya jo monta kertaa, mutta kai sita alkaa pikku hiljaa myontamaan itselleni, etta takapuoli ei kapene miettimalla. Joten... huomenna aion toteuttaa uhkaukseni. Tarvitsisi vaan hankkia jonkin sortin fitness buddy itselleni. No kai niita sitten sielta salilta saa. Kavaisin siella jo yhden kerran ja tuleva personal trainerini sanoi minulle heti, etta tulen olemaan ns. ongelmatapaus. Syy? Toinen polvi on kohtalaisen sokona, joten en voi sita koukistaa ja ihana palleatyra aiheuttaa sen, etten voi nostella/repia painavia puntteja. Sita kun haluaisi tuloksia heti, niin tuntuu ah niin turhauttavalta kuulea joutuvansa nosteskelemaan hyvin kevyita painoja. Pitaisikohan sita lahtea kuitenkin uimahallille. Aha! Taas valahti (harvinaista kuitenkin...)! Olkaa te onnellisia siella Suomessa, etta uimahallissa kaynti on NIIN halpaa. Taalla noin kuuden kuukauden kausilippu maksaa about 700 euroa! Ja vapaauinti mahdollisuudet ovat minimissa. Lisaksi taalla pitaa; kayttaa uimapukuna kaikenpeittavaa koko-uimapukua, uimalakkia, korvatulppia ja varvaspaleja. Missaan ei saa kavella paljasjaloin ja suihkuun on mentava uimapuku paalla. Hygienia ja intiimisuoja. Janna juttu, etta televisiossa kaikki on puolialastonta ja rannalla otetaan aurinkoa toplessina, mutta harva on nahnyt edes omaa aitiaan alastomana. Ja naillahan ei olisi mitaan hapeilemista. Tasta tulikin mieleeni eras kerta, kun deittailen yhta espanjalaista poikaa ja paatimme lahtea "aurinkorannoille" ruskettumaan. Mina valkoinen valas. Sen jalkeen, kun olimme asettuneet viltillemme noin kahden metrin paasta meita saapui sellainen missi ja mister-pariskunta. Pariskunnan naispuolinen han,taydellinen rusketus ja taydellinen rintaronttinki, tietysti heitti heti narubikinin ylaosan menemaan ja alkoi levittamaan napykoidensa paalle aurinkorasvaa. Noin seitsaman vuotta sitten se oli itselleni jonkinnakoinen kulttuurishokki. Enka ole myoskaan koskaan ollut kiitollisempi siita, etta voin maata vain noin 30 min. auringossa.  Ei koskaan enaa rannalle taydellisten naisten Italiassa! ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Se talta kertaa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:14;"  lang="EN-US" &gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color:blue;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bbtreviroma.it/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:Arial;font-size:14;"  lang="EN-US" &gt;&lt;u&gt;&lt;span style="color:blue;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.bbtreviroma.it/"&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/u&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/4742607228420377961-8579775611721078146?l=katjakulkki.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/feeds/8579775611721078146/comments/default' title='Lähetä kommentteja'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='https://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=4742607228420377961&amp;postID=8579775611721078146' title='1 kommenttia'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/8579775611721078146'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/4742607228420377961/posts/default/8579775611721078146'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://katjakulkki.blogspot.com/2007/03/save-whales.html' title='Save the whales!'/><author><name>katjakulkki</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/02640129051217386890</uri><email>katjakulk@hotmail.com</email><gd:extendedProperty xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' name='OpenSocialUserId' value='14606822644402173370'/></author><thr:total xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'>1</thr:total></entry></feed>