The Resident

I don’t believe in personal profiles. I don’t think they say much about a person, and when they do, it’s usually not important. I do believe in indulging my ego, however, which is why I’m writing this.

I’m a thirty-three-year-old post-Generation X, postfeminist, postmodern. The “post” means that I’m a product of all three subcultures, but not an adherent. The “thirty-three-year-old” doesn’t mean anything.

I’m a true child of super-industrial society, only carried and born in a country that’s still in the last legs of the agricultural age. This means that my life is marked by paradoxes and contradictions.

For instance: I think the world could be a better place, it just isn’t.

I believe art imitates life, but improves on the original.

I think nature is wonderful, but only when it’s fifteen feet away and doesn’t soil your carpet. (I think the best pets in the world belong to other people.)

I believe nothing educates like travel, but that too much education is bad. I think people should have a place where they belong, where they can vegetate, be dull and uninteresting, and be offensive in all the right ways.

I think it’s the little things that make people happy—like Belgian chocolates and French perfumes.

Sometimes, I believe I was born during the wrong time, or on the wrong planet, or as the wrong species.* Other times, when I’m listening to Vienna Teng, or reading Diane Ackerman, or laughing with a friend, I don’t mind so much. I’m not a cynic so much as a disillusioned innocent. Well, maybe not that disillusioned. After all, I did join this blog thing.

* I wish I were born anytime else but the Eighties, preferably on Venus. As a flytrap.


6 thoughts on “The Resident

  1. Brio says:

    I’m glad I had time to read your piece of self-indulgence because I found something we have in common. I absolutely love Vienna Teng too! I hope she’s not reading this, but if I knew how to do it, I’d put her in a bottle and keep her in my room so that I could listen to her sing anytime I’d want to. I’ve owned a lot of MP3 players and she’s been in all of them! Nice!


  2. Ben says:


    I don’t know who you are and it’s only by mistake that I found your blog when searching for Rovaniemi. That said, I’m glad I did as I’ve been perusing, reading your blog posts and now I’ve read this.

    I’ve not even met you, we’re from different countries but most likely, not too dissimilar cultures but what you’ve written above is almost as if I wrote it. It’s an intelligent ramble, a paradoxical musing, and I absolutely adore your style!

    Great read, thank you. If you’re about, please advise me on what Rovaniemi and it’s surrounding areas were like—it looks interesting, beautiful and somewhat magical; the kind of place I’d really like to lose myself with my thoughts.

    Gah, check me out, wittering on—it’s your fault, you got me started! 😉

    Seriously though, great stuff.


    • Eileen says:

      Hi Ben! What a lovely acknowledgment! I do apologize for taking a while to respond to it—I’ve been on a bit of a long writing break (the first extended one I’ve taken since starting this blog). I’ve only just gotten back—will definitely check your blog out after I get my bearings again. 😀

      I’m not sure if anything I have to share on Rovaniemi will still be helpful at this point. For all I know, you may have already gone. The town itself doesn’t offer much, but the surrounding areas are magical: I remember dark, brooding skies pierced through by incredibly beautiful sunlight; lush green fields surrounded by rushing, blue waters. I think I might have a picture somewhere on my blog. I’ll have to look it up.

      Hope this still helps, and THANK YOU once again! Your note really helped me get back to writing.


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