Limited issue

I need a new frying pan. The one I own is an old one from my parents, and I wouldn't be surprised if they told me it's the one they used to fry eggs during their student years in the Soviet Union - probably with that nostalgic expression they get when they talk about queueing for toilet paper on the streets of Moscow. However, my temporary flatmate told me today it's a perfect frying pan, so what's the point in getting new stuff when most of our things are anyway going to outlive us all.

Isn't it worth thinking about, though? Where all our things end up. Or, for that matter, how they have ended up here in my room. Open your mind, and every thing seems to have a story. Like the KLM World Business Class cosmetics box I was given in 2003 for taking care of an abandoned child. When My Favourite Lithuanian Person began singing in choirs as a child, she hardly would have known that in ten years she would give the black file binder she was holding to her friend while leaving Bologna. Could Cecil Robert E. have imagined that his complete set of Dickens would end up in his great-grandson's bookshelf in Finland?

Sometimes, we even give stuff to ourselves. I opened a stowed-away suitcase at my parents' place today. It was labelled "DANI'S STUFF 23.9.2006" and full of- well, my stuff! But where will my books be after a hundred years? Or, for that matter, my diaries? I really need to think about this, since my diaries have become so personal in the last years that even I'm not allowed to read everything.

While I was thinking about coming home from the long trip, I realised I was really thinking about this street and this district, which really is a city inside a city like they say. I actually missed the view from my window, down half of Kustaankatu towards the main street where the trams rattle towards Töölö; the cheap bars with their ridiculous names (Garbage Bank, anyone? Or how about a drink at Evening School?), pizzerias and kebab eateries, the red brick apartment blocks, the Thai massage parlours, all the single people just passing their time on the streets (or passing out).

I'll be happy to stay in this part of town for a while. There is something about it that suits me well. And when I feel like it, I can escape the noise and walk to the park with my book and an ice cream, take the tram to Töölönlahti and put my feet in the water, or take the bus to the northern suburbs and watch a movie with my friends. I did all of these things today and can't wait to see what I'll do tomorrow. When you're young, on holiday, and have a charged Travel Card, there are no limits!