back home

British Airways taunted me with Finland throughout the flight home surrounding me with Finns speaking that inexplicable language, featuring Helsinki in their inflight magazine and playing "Sybellius" (Finland's unofficial anthem) on heavy rotation on the inflight entertainment system. Luckily, my seat mate was happy to distract me with incessant talk about her PhD thesis on health promotion in rural Finland. In between drinks, that is. A whole lot of alcohol was consumed in seat 28J, I think she must be still in the research stage regarding the definition of health.

The Canada customs team dedicated to implementing their ridiculous 'lets push these overtired passengers over the edge' procedures ('security measures' they call them) made the process of actually getting into Canada incredibly difficult. They put up a good fight but they were no match for this Canadian; me and my suitcase full of undeclared ayurvedic potions made it home with the help of my accomplice (aka: mom).

Toronto is sadly lacking in strangely flavoured sparking water, a city population that embraces summer with complete abandon, and men named Mikko but it's good to be home. As always, I'm amazed by the amount of space I have and more so by the amount of 'stuff' I have filling it. My first morning home found me, still in pajamas, buried in my closet pulling out clothes to send to Goodwill. I've been eating my weight in vegetables and have decided to plan all future trips so my homecoming corresponds with corn season.

Although I defied all odds by finding my mobile, I can't for the life of me remember how to turn it on. Yeah, I'm serious. Please email me your phone numbers, they're stored in the mobile phone from now on to be referred to as 'fort knox'.