Käsmu and Eurovision

Eurovision is the national sport and needs serious measures, 

so we made a little getaway to Käsmu to watch it.

Before LGBT Olympics, a little sauna was in order.

 Käsmu - where fairies and unicorns are born:

Ott and I burned the meat, since we knew nothing about grilling. Lack of patience and thereof.

My Mister came to the rescue. (the meat was gluten free and full vegan, I promise):

"Good evening, Europe":

Markus has never looked that scared...:

...and this is the reason:

Florence was there:

And FKA Twigs:

Rapapappapapaapppp:

The five hour competition was really tiresome, but our bedroom was awesome.

I flashed the morning joggers:

Good evening Europe and good morning Australia?!

Birthday repress on 35mm

Nothing new to see here, just my birthday through another angle. This time I took out my analog camera, which had not been touched for six months, thus the white little stripes on pictures is just dust. 

No Photoshop, just dirty little camera.

The morning glory:

I got a handyman, who installed my birthday flowers on the windowsill:

My face tells you that it has just woken up:

Killing pineapple:

The scenery brings out the beautiful features of my face:

MC Wilma Circus:

I needed to pee:

Just ate a bug:

I met this awesome posh tennis player, 

who likes to wear his clothes wrapped around his shoulders:

Me so pretty. Such much pretty:

Kopli gangsters, who steal kittens from the rich and sell them to the poor:

#24

My twisted Misters and I:

I wanted to kiss him, but he has a girlfriend now, 

so I guess that's off the table:

"What ya talkin' 'bout??"

"I'll be this fat, when I'm 42":

Classical blurry taxi ride home:

Also classical headache the day after with Fritz lemonade to comfort me:

Life's a fast car, yo. Enjoy the ride:

My birthday. One step closer to becoming vintage.

I would describe myself as a socially open penguin, instead of an awkward one, therefore people and talking and more talking is totally me. Answering phone calls and accepting gifts is something I enjoy oh-so-very-very-much. Favourite day of the year = birthday!

Egoism keeps me going since 1991.

I got a day off from work, which usually means my snoring nose against his ear until it is an ungodly hour. However on my birthday the Mister ran away before I even understood that it was daytime (mandatory video) and woke me up with chocolates that said "Olen paras pähkel" (You're nuts):

My life is sponsored by & Other Stories. Simples. Pure joy and love.

+ I got a bitchin' teakettle. Everything related to tea, I must has:

The tits got some decorations + & Other Stories dress I wore later that day.

My Mister is the best. He smells good. He looks good. He cooks good.

Brekkie on the balcony:

I wanted to pimp my looks, but did not have time for a boobjob and was too wuss for a tattoo.

Instead I made a soft core makeover at the hairdresser's. YES IT IS DIFFERENT, BUY GLASSES.

#thickhairproblems

Last year (2014) on my birthday at Merivälja:

This year, the same place, 10°C difference.

Not sure if ice age or old people just feel as they are freezing all the time?

I was pretty happy. 

Especially considering those funny Facebook messages from my grandmothers:

Then we went to Tops to meet up my koorekiht.

(koorekiht = a person who you know well and who you like a lot, but who is usually not a member of your family)

Here Pärna explains his dream, which made him bring lilies for me:

When I visited Berlin I fell in love with lemonade Fritz. (Try, it is mmmmmmm *drools a little*!) Thankfully it also arrived to Tallinn, however it is 3€ more expensive than in Berlin...so I buy one bottle a week or two at parties. Rest of the time I mix it with Mõmmi lemonade.

Yet boys gave me the whole box of it for my birthday!!!!

LOOK AT MY REACTION:

Last year my friends gave me money for driving school and I still do not have any licence. 

Now they want to know where did their investment go? 

I have a serious pressure here, I will not be a disappointment

SOON!:

Fuck wrinkles, I smile as much as I want:

Free hugs and drugs:

All my female friends live abroad,

a.k.a.  = sausage party!:

I ordered only few snacks, but three pitchers full of kurgijook (gin + Sprite + mineral water + cucumber). 

Balanced and identical intoxication for the win:

After school lessons were over, Karl arrived.

I didn't want to let go. (note the cucumber party on the table)

I cannot describe how special these two gentlemen are 

and how happy they make me feel:

When I blew out the candles from my birthday cake, I wished for that once in my lifetime all my best friends would be at my birthday party not fapping in Paris/London/Liverpool/Stockholm.

But at least I'm never alone:

Karl just did his first movie. I have seen it, he has not. I explained. I described. 

He asked. We analysed the subject: "Estonian film industry - full crap or artsy fart?"

Better late than never!

Ester's boyfriend has a birthday on the same day as I do, therefore they had some family matters before coming over. But they did come over. Warm hugs!:

Usually I'm dull, but sometimes I nail the joke:

My humble gratitude towards everyone who called, messaged me or remembered me any other way. Special thanks go to my grandmothers, who does not  bother to call me anymore. At least their Facebook messages are the best there is with more witty 'grandma burn' than should be allowed. My Mister should have his own throne and have a rap-album "Watch the throne", since he is the king of everything. My friends, who came over to Tops. My friends, who didn't come to Tops. My friends, who forgot (well, well). Ladies, who sent me a video of them singing Smilers in London. Kisses to awesome theatre ladies Evelin Võigemast, Külli Teetamm and Harriet Toompere for being born the same day as me. Hõissa!

Why Ott is the best there is.

I was flipping through my blog since the beginning (do not make the same mistake). If there's any good about this blog, it's the possibility to let everything out without actually having to say it to their face. It seems I have written some post about my dearest friends, the most of them are now password protected, since the stories don't bare the daylight.

So back to basics and I'm doing something which is so two thousand and ten.

Meet my friend, Ott.

The dickhead and I were classmates, yet I didn't register his whereabouts before he came up to me (year was 2007) and quickly declared "Nummi says hi!" Nummi was/is a sign of quality and I finally felt relieved that I had a mutual friend with someone in that God forsaken school. 

Quality, I say:

Next chapter began, when I broke up with my boyfriend in 2009. At a party I was crying somewhere in the corner and drinking Põltsamaa Tõmmu. Girls repeatedly cave me tissues so I could wipe off my issues until Ott came up, slapped me and said: "Stop crying and start being awesome instead." True story. Brutal woman-beating all the way, yet it bloody worked. Everything started to go uphill from there...

...until we were up the hill drinking (he is the one, who pushed Fred and I together. And I quote from 2010 "Wilma and the Two Dragons Era":

I'll just skip thousands of chapters in between, because I have far too many awkward pictures to pick from. 

The time we really grew together was when we both accidentally moved to Stockholm in 2012. I stopped being "his best friend's girlfriend" and earned an "awesome friend" title (I hope). Let's face it, I should get some praise for keeping all the crazy women away from him. Once a girl was so freaky that I had to distract her until Ott could jump out of a window and escape. Love that manwhore.

It was really a great time. Parties. The late night talks. The late night Õnne 13. The "let's have a sleepover" and accidentally staying for two weeks, because it was unbelievably fun to convince a Finn that Estonias drink from a chair (??!? sense it makes none). We were evil! (and my balcony view was bitching in Stockholm):

He might be tough, but ladies, he is a cutie pie:

Now we are in year 2015 and just last Friday we casually grabbed a beer. Mocking his Tinder dates is always a great way to end your week with:

Also I have managed to confuse people about my dating life. Some of my acquaintances send their hello's to my boyfriend Ott and I think most of our friends in Stockholm thought we were a really dysfunctional couple. The thing is, when Fred and I get married, Ott will be the best man, bridesmaid, the priest and the host, because we don't have money to invite anyone else:

Also I love his double chin:

With him I stop being sad and start being awesome instead. 

Puss!:

I have him bookmarked for life: