Finnish TV

Due to a Phil Collins hangover on Saturday I spent a lot of quality time in front of the tv. I discovered that Saturday afternoon tv here is mainly cookery shows and shows about dogs. I discovered the joys of Sikke Sumari, the happiest tv chef in the world. She was so happy and peaceful, it was very soothing. Her show needed to be translated for me, and it seems she was very frustrated when her pancakes weren't perfect, and yet she was still smiling and happy. I love her.
In Finland there are a lot of subtitled foreign tv shows, so I can understand a lot of stuff. Sadly I had to miss out on the German soap opera and Danish documentary about high speed trains in Japan. What a letdown.
There was some slight drama after this gentle afternoon when I found I'd lost my purse. We called Olkkone, where we'd been the night before, but they hadn't seen it. I asked my mother to cancel my cards, and went out to meet Emmi. After a while Petteri appeared holding the purse! The man sitting behind us had found it and given it to him, and he was sitting where we'd been at the start of the night before. It pissed me off I'd already cancelled the cards but it's a bit late now. Once my Finnish card is available and my wages have been paid I'll have enough money to manage with.
After that Suski, Emma and Tommi came to meet us from a party with some of their friends, and the rest of the night involved various people trying to teach my to roll my r's, so I can shout perkele in a loud and threatening manner. It didn't work, even after the Finnish army got involved with trying to educate me. Also, in a conversation with three Finnish people this came up:
"Tamsin, what's a curry?"
"What the fuck?"
"I've never had a curry."
"Yeah, me neither. What does it mean?"
"What? Someone get me some planes tickets, we're going to school."
Seriously, what the fuck?
Due to my massive hangover I didn't drink any alcohol until last orders in Olkkone, when I gave into peer pressure. Until then I couldn't have stomached alcohol but being sober in a bar made me realise how loud and annoying drunk people are. Not my friends but various old men who want to shout very loudly and argue and pass out. It was definitely a Phil Collins krapula. I remember leaving the bar on Friday, and then waking up fully clothed at 9am with an untouched Hesburger meal on the floor. I'd passed out before Emma even got back from market square with food.
I'd planned on a nice quiet night and ended up going to bed at 6am...