I was going nuts over the weekend after a crazy week (not to mention long hours) at work. All the scheduling stuff (or more like, “oh no, how on earth will I manage this!”) was stuck in my head all weekend and my brain was going 100m/s. You can imagine that I was having a “little” trouble sleeping.

Last night after going to bed at 9:30 — because I had decided to wake up at 6 am — and still tossing and turning after midnight I finally decided to write down all the things that I had stuck in my mind.

Whew. That helped. I just wish I had thought of that Friday night…

Well, not really but I sure feel like it.

Nevertheless. Yes, I finally did it: I went to the university and turned in my papers to enroll in the last graduation ceremony of the school year. In about 2 weeks I’ll get my bachelor’s degree (Bachelor of Arts). Hurray.

I’m not planning on any sort of pomp and circumstance but I promise I’ll celebrate a little — on the inside at least.

(I got the congratulations after I’d filled in the papers with the help of the clerk. How great would it be if I now got a call that there’s something wrong… After I’ve already told everyone. )

Last year before the move-in, one of my to-be-neighbours called me to ask if I needed a parking space. There are only as many parking spaces as there are condos (which is really stupid) so they were hoping I would give up my space. Well, I said I didn’t mind if they said I was willing to give up my space cause I didn’t need it.

She just called again, because we were asked to return a paper requesting a parking space or to tell if we didn’t need one. I put that I don’t need a space because I don’t, and I frankly didn’t even remember the “deal” (there was no special arrangement, I didn’t pay for the space so they didn’t pay for it to me). I asked if there are many other families with two cars and she told me there are a couple. When I told her I had already stated I didn’t need a space and that I think it’s fair if the families who’ve had to park one car on the street have a chance of getting a proper space this year (there will be a draw), she suddenly sounded very annoyed and was quick to end the call. Sorry, but there’s really no reason for me to help them getting an extra space. I did it last year out of shock (why did she call me and how did she get my phone number) and kindness.

I was supposed to go carpet shopping today but I was too comfortable for too long watching the X-Files so I couldn’t be bothered anymore. It’s a hassle getting to the shops where I want to go. It’s less of a hassle from work so I’ll try and leave a little earlier some day.

Skipping that “responsibility” I decided to do something useful anyway. I decided to clean up the air conditioning unit — which should be done every 6 months and I haven’t exactly done so. It’s nearly a year since I moved here (anniversary on Tuesday) so I figured it’s high time.

I opened up the door (a bit of a struggle) and was greeted with black blobs of dead flies (those really really tiny ones) all over the floor of the unit and in the filters, and a sort of sweet smell. Mm.

I had to take out the dusty filters and vacuum the flies away. There’s a cubic element in the middle (whatever it does) that apparently should be removed and washed but I couldn’t figure out how to do that and I was afraid to pull it too forcefully. I’ll have to ask Dad come and check it out some day (how embarrassing…).

Well, at least now I have an 80% clean air conditioning unit instead of the entirely unclean one.

Cough cough. I think I inhaled some of the flies.
(Just kidding! One of the filters was really dusty. Not with flies, thank god.)

Mum’s birthday is coming up and I was thinking of maybe inviting everyone over for dinner and coffee. She’s been talking how she should come over some day to see what has happened since her last visit. What’s holding me back? I’m scared Dad would have something to complain about the food again, that it tastes bad or weird. I’ve baked a lot of things and there’s always been something wrong. I do know Mum makes better food but she’s had a “few” more years to practise. (And she always makes the same dishes while I experiment.)

Nothing would make me more happy than hearing a compliment from Dad on something — anything — some day. We have a good relationship and I’ve always been a Daddy’s girl, so I don’t understand why I can’t seem to be good enough in anything.

Urgh. Thinking about this just makes me angry and sad. I need a distraction.

I received a wedding invitation today. On the envelope it said “Minna plus one”. I almost took it as an insult (I know it’s the custom, that’s why I say “almost”). I don’t have a plus one!

Any takers?

Time and time again I’m amazed by the magic of cooking.

Not too long ago I made Pioneer Woman’s recipe “Grandma Iny’s Prune Cake” where you make an icing from sugar, buttermilk, baking soda, syrup, butter, and vanilla extract. It needs to be boiled for a while but it must not reach a soft ball stage. I didn’t have any idea what kind of stage that might be so I just boiled it until it looked something like in the photos. (I may’ve cooked it too long but anyway. It ended up being a syrupy-looking thing (maybe the caramel stage) and it was easily pourable. And the whole thing was delicious. That’s the main thing.) At first I was sceptical: the thing started boiling, then foaming (all but fluffed right out of the pan) which I think could be the butter’s fault (it wasn’t the artery-clogging kind). But I waited patiently for the syrup to appear. I actually scooped a bit of the foam off because I was afraid the butter was not right for the recipe. Suddenly — very very quickly — the foam went down and it turned into syrup.

Today I decided to try a fudge recipe where you had to boil sugar, cream, honey, and butter to the soft ball stage of 116 degrees Celsius. (I was going to buy a thermometer but forgot.) Once again, the butter started foaming (so it wasn’t the “healthy” butter’s fault although the real butter foams in a lot more controlled manner) and I started doing the water test: drop a bit of the syrup to cold water and once it’s forms into a soft ball when it hits the water, it’s ready. I waited and waited, and stirred. And put a few drops of it in the water — getting only slightly white sugar water. At one point it was still very foamy but a little thicker than it had been before so I decided to try my luck: it actually seemed to harden a little in the water so I took it off the burner, even though I thought “it’s foam, it can’t work”. In an instant (a few seconds, seriously) it turned into something I could really call fudge. Wow! Then I started mixing in the flavours: white chocolate (yummmm), ginger jam (odd but it’s in the recipe — gotta try it), and dried cranberries. Little by little I started believing I may’ve actually managed to do this right. Now it’s cooling down right behind me — I’m just inhaling the smelly goodness since it’ll take a while for it to be ready for cutting.

I only wish I could succeed in normal cooking. It seems I only get the cakes and other treats right, and my regular food comes out bland or just weird. Maybe it’s because dessert-making is more of an exact science?

Just yesterday, and several days before that, I had a private swimming pool (or a skating rink if it would’ve frozen) — on my balcony! The drain out there doesn’t do its job efficiently enough and the melting snow created a nice little pond. It started as a small puddle around the drain but yesterday it had reached the door. Luckily, if the water level got any higher than that, it would start going over the sides and wouldn’t get in since the door is higher.

In the photo above, my doorstep is at the bottom of the picture and the water is about 2 feet away. (That was the day before yesterday.)

I lifted the block of ice off the drain in the hopes of opening it but no luck there…

However, this morning(-ish…) the water was nearly gone! There’s only a little bit of ice left in the groove that goes around the balcony. I hope the water doesn’t come back this winter but I’m definitely listing this as something that needs to be fixed. (After the first year they’ll do an inspection and ask the people to report any problems that were noticed during the first year of occupying the apartments.)

I’m glad I didn’t yet have any furniture or flooring on my balcony!

I bought a new USB stick (8GB) for making a bootable stick for Ubuntu Netbook Remix. I tired following different instructions to create it with the Linux’s “dd” command. First it reported errors in data transfer, then after Kory’s help it transferred properly but I was faced with a non-effective bootable stick. I chose to boot off it but it just went right through to the normal boot-up. Gah.

(At this point, I managed to bork something bad enough that I ended up making a recovery stick for the original AA1 Linpus and installed it again. Because this worked, I trusted the problem was not with the stick as such but the creation of the bootable image.)

Today I decided to try it on Windows — and it worked! (trusty Windows )

Not that there was anything really wrong with Linpus (except that I couldn’t install a Pidgin version new enough to support ICQ and updating Firefox would’ve been such a hassle), but there’s something irksome about the super-simplified interface.

Now THIS looks like a proper computer OS:

Haven’t played much on it yet. I’m now retiring to the sofa to do just that.

[edit 8/3/2009] Here’s a sceenshot

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I had planned on installing Ubuntu Netbook Remix on my AA1 this morning so I started downloading the image to make a bootable USB stick.

Ehm. The image is 1.02Gb in size (I understand I need to do something with it first but I can’t imagine the file size reduces from that). And I only have a 1Gb USB stick. A bit of a pickle.

Need to go shopping for a new USB stick on Monday…

I was so looking forward to playing with Ubuntu today.