It started to rain. First quiet, then just a few drops, then a short torrent and now it’s dying down again. I love the sound of nocturnal rain. It’s not unlike the sound wind makes in the trees; a comforting white noise.

One of our neighbours has a posted a note on his/her window saying ”Box found”. I’m intrigued by this person’s choice of words. Was there anything in the box? Is it a valuable thing in itself? If not, why is s/he assuming someone would want their box back?

Seen on the telly, more specifically on Have I Got News For You? Prince Philips chat-up line is allegedly Hi, I’m a future king. Want a pull? Naughty royals are such a fine thing for a nation to have.

Oh dear, oh dear, it would seem that the Army can’t get anything right. I ordered a free introductory DVD from them and what do I get? An old-fashioned VHS. I shudder to think what could happen on the battlefield if they can’t even get their merchandise straight.

I am, however, delighted to inform you that I ordered the package using the highly intellectual name of Miss V Persilma. Can’t even remember what the V stood for. I think she was a 26-year-old Austrian doctor, or something. As Calvin once said, I love messing with statistical data.

The first sentences in the brochure are In the Army, you’ll live life at 100mph and it’ll be crammed full of action and responsability. You’ll experience the ultimate mix of travel, adventure and sport. Suddenly the Finnish version is looking much better.

More on the brochure once I have some free time. Right now I’ve got more pressing matters at hand, like stalking the shower. Damn these shared house mornings.

Spent a whole lotta dough today, once again more than I should’ve. The end result: clothes, books, cds, dvds, cans of soda, and one souvenir. Oh, and a gazillion plastic bags.

We’d visited Cardiff Market once before, but at that time we were so tired that I didn’t pay attention to anything. But oh boy, is there a nice record store or what? I recommend Kelly’s Records to everyone. Not only are the selections good, but the staff are actually helpful. Unbelievable. So I ended up with A Fish Called Wanda and Family Guy, season 2 DVDs for under £20 altogether.

Before that I had already spent a few pounds at MVC, stacking up on cheap collection albums by classic performers (Diana Ross & The Supremes, Shirley Bassey, Al Green, Dusty Springfield). Afterwards we popped into an el cheapo bookstore the name of which escapes me, but it’s by the library. I just couldn’t help myself and had to buy Robert Ross’s Monty Python Encyclopedia and The Onion Ad Nauseam.

Now some people might wonder what the hell I am doing here as an exchange student and just buying stuff. The answer is that all the money you put into pub nights, drinks, and fags, I spend on DVDs, CDs, and books. It’s that simple. On a related note, I checked out whether it would be cheaper to just send all our stuff to Finland by post. No it wouldn’t. Actually it’ll cost exactly the same, whether we mail them or take them with us on the airplane. What a shame.

Highlight of the day: A bird shitted (shat?) on Sonja’s coat. Yesterday’s highlight: An eccentric individual (read: looney) was recording street noises near the bus station. I didn’t stop to ask what he was doing but it sure sounded weird.

If I see the Vodaphone picture messaging commercial one more time at the cinema, I’m not going to be responsible for my actions.

Saturday mornings are the best. The house is quiet, no one’s rushing anywhere, I’ve got the best cartoons in the world on video waiting for me (this time around it was 2 × Family Guy, Futurama, and King of the Hill), some freshly-brewed coffee, and to make things perfect, there’s a Saturday Guardian right there on the livingroom table, bought by someone else. Wonderful.

Spent the day shopping and consequently lugging heavy bags around Cardiff. I never knew there was an Oxfam store dedicated to books. Picked up You’ll Never Eat Lunch in this Town Again and Tilting at Windmills, a collection of ”new Welsh short fiction” (don’t know why, it just felt appropriate).

Moreover, the bastards at WHSmith lured me into buying Antony Beevor’s both Berlin – The Downfall 1945 and Stalingrad. This wasn’t reasonable behaviour, and the only explanation I can give was that the books were £4 off marked price, ie. pretty cheap.

Add to this the fact that I couldn’t resist the £6 Billy Connolly DVD I spotted at MVC and that Noreena Hertz’s The Silent Takeover arrived in the mail in the morning, and the conclusion is that I’ve bought way way too many books and will face some logistics problems hauling them back to Finland. Oh dear.

Yesterday I saw for the first time motorists getting so agitated that they actually stopped their vehicles and stepped outside to yell at each other. (”You better stop now.” ”Fuck you!” ”Yeah? Well fuck you too.”)

I really am a small town boy, aren’t I?

I’m so bored I think I’ll go see X2 despite the silly name.

I’m watching Euro Trash (which admittedly never was the greatest of programs but still) and the dubbing is really unnerving. Now if you though that hearing something serious, say Gerhard Schröder’s speech dubbed by some BBC halfwit was bad, just imagine what the result is with these already dubious interviewees whose funny voices are dubbed into even zanier versions. The laughter is horrible. Nothing is subtitled here, not movies, not news, nothing. Terrible.

I’d already forgotten how much frontal nudity this show has. Oh, now there’s an insert of Eddie ’The Eagle’ Edwards and the guy still remembers the lyrics to his song. I’d hate to discredit my former employers, but when Euro Trash came to Jyväskyä to shoot an insert about Dr Ammondt, Keskisuomalainen gave the story one full page. And the show is on at 1 AM Wednesdays. Oh god, now they’re playing a story about German yodellers who about ’Pussy-Fixiert Fraulein’.

Two things about commercials. First: I bet that the people in I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter! (I just love that name and wish they did other products as well, like I Can’t Believe It’s Not Dead Rat) are actually reacting to naked genitalia. Second: The ’Don’t You Love It When Things Just Work?’ Honda commercial is the single best one this millennium.