Life rocks.

Accompanied by the delightful sounds streaming through my window (just now, a very drunk man banging on a door and cursing a woman at the top of his voice), I am reading an advertisement which just came in our door - it looks like someone called Sahsa (you read right) is starting a new restaurant right below us (Ravintola Pelmenit), which opens next Monday at six in the morning. I especially like the post scriptum: "Please bring this invitation, but don't bring any money!". Definitely worth checking out.

Today, J finally got rid of that shower curtain - it'll be nice to be able to shower now without having to constantly peel what feels like soggy newspaper from around my neck. Our next project is to find fitting shelves for our kitchen cupboards - something which has proven to be difficult as the sizes on sale are just that teeny weeny bit too small (we've already returned two sets to the store). Also, I wouldn't mind if our landlady finally gave me a key which actually opens our basement so I can finally use the communal washing machine and do something about this pile of dirty clothes on my floor.

Anyway, perhaps now is a good time to remind everyone that yes, I have now started a new life in Kallio, that squirmy, trendy, filthy, vibrant, hot, whatever-you-want-to-call-it neighbourhood between the metro stations of Hakaniemi and Sörnäinen. Well, officially our building is located in Alppiharju, but since I can see Helsinginkatu, which separates us from Kallio, from my window, I guess this is more Kallio than Alppiharju. As I am sitting now, I have the metro station to my left, tram number eight right ahead of me, and several buses to the right. Welcome!

Actually, it's pretty cool. On average, the smallest apartments in Helsinki are located right on these streets (ours has 44 square metres), so it's filled with young single adults. J and I haven't made a tour of the local bars yet, but since most of them advertise their happy hour (a very misleading concept, don't you think?) at 9 in the morning, I guess they cater for a slightly different customership than hardworking students. Or maybe not. Anyway, we have everything we need here - plenty of grocery stores, sports facilities (I'm trying to sound convincing here), and culture (predominantly Thai).

What can I say about my room? Well, it's not quite ready yet. The shelves have been tightly (fingers crossed) screwed to the wall, and I must say it felt really nice to finally take out all my books and other things out from their boxes after almost a year. In Graz, I was often asked why I didn't have any books ("Don't you read?"). Watch me now, everyone, as I display rows and rows of Dickens, ancient copies of Hesse and a small but significant comic book section! Turn green with envy, o sceptical ones, at my collection of choral and operatic scores! Gaze in awe at my... okay that's enough. You get the idea!

Our doors tend to behave erratically - close one, and another one on the other side of the apartment pops open with a snap. On the other hand, closing the doors to my room is no easy task since they like to open again on their own, so there you have it.

My flatmate has a bigger room, and a piano. Otherwise, our belongings don't differ that much - we even have the same Murakami books on display. Oh, and by the way, I just have to boast about our bathroom's refreshening system - an ingenious spraying device J installed on our wall. Welcome to try it!