Dear Holland,
Ready or not, here I come.
Dutch windmills, licorice, canals, and bikes, here I come.
Please don't rain.
Please don't let me fall off a bike into a canal.
Thanks,
Love Kylie
Showing posts with label the thrill of the hunt. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the thrill of the hunt. Show all posts
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Wednesday, May 27, 2009
A Clear Concert, I mean Conscience
This afternoon I did a walk by of the venue. Checking out my options, seeing what was available.
I really wanted to go.
I saw the band's cars outside. I could tell they were inside. I just knew.
I didn't catch sight of them, however I did walk through the shooting of a scene from probably an A Grade movie. I'll probably be famous.
Then I had an internal battle. I could skip my German class. It was possible. I'm pretty fluent already.
But I was supposed to babysit tonight and Ma had taken the girls with her to an appointment so that I could make German class.
I couldn't skip out on babysitting for a concert with a clear conscience.
Actually, forget the clear conscience. I need an foggy conscience for later on in the story.
The other obstacle was that it cost 60CHF to get into this concert. A hefty price, let me tell you. Does he think the Swiss are rich or something?
So, I've got no options left. I'm sitting in German class, having saved myself 60CHF but really wishing I had spent it.
So on the way home, I got off at the station where the concert was. Why, I'm not sure. It was probably nearly over anyway.
As I neared the entry I spotted a Suitable Candidate. Leaving the concert early due to other commitments or some such nonsense.
In my best scalper's voice, I muttered, Wanna sell a ticket?
I think I probably confused her. Scalpers normally sell tickets, not offer to buy them.
And, in hindsight, I don't know what I was thinking offering the buy her ticket.
I had about 3CHF worth of change in my purse, with a few Euros.
Maybe I could buy a corner of her ticket. A small one.
She replied with some such nonsense about them taking it from her when she left the venue.
A likely story.
And so I hung around the entrance. I could watch the concert on the big screens inside and this mostly was fulfilling. Along with the faint musical sounds I could hear, it was pretty much the real deal.
It was almost as good as the time I really wanted to go to a similar concert, but couldn't, and so my sister rung me and I listened to the whole concert on the phone.
Don't feel sorry for me. And no pitiful looks please.
There was so much security hanging around the door that it made it kind of hard to walk in. But, waiting in the dark shadows paid off and then the doors were open for a minute and the security were missing.
I think they wanted me to come in.
And so I did. This is the part of the story where I need a foggy conscience.
And it was so good. I got to be in there for the last 5 songs, which everyone knows are the best anyway.
And I clapped and cheered and danced like I'd been there the whole time. Really, I was just taking the place of my Suitable Candidate. I was doing her clapping and cheering for her.
A clear conscience and a good deed.
Ahh.
I really wanted to go.
I saw the band's cars outside. I could tell they were inside. I just knew.
I didn't catch sight of them, however I did walk through the shooting of a scene from probably an A Grade movie. I'll probably be famous.
Then I had an internal battle. I could skip my German class. It was possible. I'm pretty fluent already.
But I was supposed to babysit tonight and Ma had taken the girls with her to an appointment so that I could make German class.
I couldn't skip out on babysitting for a concert with a clear conscience.
Actually, forget the clear conscience. I need an foggy conscience for later on in the story.
The other obstacle was that it cost 60CHF to get into this concert. A hefty price, let me tell you. Does he think the Swiss are rich or something?
So, I've got no options left. I'm sitting in German class, having saved myself 60CHF but really wishing I had spent it.
So on the way home, I got off at the station where the concert was. Why, I'm not sure. It was probably nearly over anyway.
As I neared the entry I spotted a Suitable Candidate. Leaving the concert early due to other commitments or some such nonsense.
In my best scalper's voice, I muttered, Wanna sell a ticket?
I think I probably confused her. Scalpers normally sell tickets, not offer to buy them.
And, in hindsight, I don't know what I was thinking offering the buy her ticket.
I had about 3CHF worth of change in my purse, with a few Euros.
Maybe I could buy a corner of her ticket. A small one.
She replied with some such nonsense about them taking it from her when she left the venue.
A likely story.
And so I hung around the entrance. I could watch the concert on the big screens inside and this mostly was fulfilling. Along with the faint musical sounds I could hear, it was pretty much the real deal.
It was almost as good as the time I really wanted to go to a similar concert, but couldn't, and so my sister rung me and I listened to the whole concert on the phone.
Don't feel sorry for me. And no pitiful looks please.
There was so much security hanging around the door that it made it kind of hard to walk in. But, waiting in the dark shadows paid off and then the doors were open for a minute and the security were missing.
I think they wanted me to come in.
And so I did. This is the part of the story where I need a foggy conscience.
And it was so good. I got to be in there for the last 5 songs, which everyone knows are the best anyway.
And I clapped and cheered and danced like I'd been there the whole time. Really, I was just taking the place of my Suitable Candidate. I was doing her clapping and cheering for her.
A clear conscience and a good deed.
Ahh.
Friday, May 15, 2009
A Big Shout Out!
I've been feeling thankful for many things this week.
In particular, I'd like to give a shout out to:
To the drivers of the S6 and S16 trains. The ones who see me appear at the top of the steps and then wait while I sprint the 100 or so metres to the train. I've got shoes in hand, my hair is yet to be done, I've got bits and pieces in my hands and under my arm, I'm throwing money in the direction of the ticket machine and I'm running as fast as I can. To the train drivers who wait.
Thank you.
To the folk who stand in the way of the train door so that it can not close in case the driver is not kind.
Thank you.
To Ma, who told me this morning that I have a day off next week, thus I can take day trips to Italy and France.
Thank you.
To my German language teacher. I understood something you said this week.
Thank you.
To the bakery around the corner. I'm willing to spend all my money on the chocolate croissants you make. Perhaps you could give me a loyalty card.
Thank you.
To ML3, who has started talking to her dolls and the cats in English. I can be a part of these conversations.
Thank you.
To all you kind ladies who give your expensive new size 41 shoes to the Brocki that I'm about to visit. Oh, you haven't done that yet? Nothing like a timely reminder. Summer shoes please.
Thank you.
In particular, I'd like to give a shout out to:
To the drivers of the S6 and S16 trains. The ones who see me appear at the top of the steps and then wait while I sprint the 100 or so metres to the train. I've got shoes in hand, my hair is yet to be done, I've got bits and pieces in my hands and under my arm, I'm throwing money in the direction of the ticket machine and I'm running as fast as I can. To the train drivers who wait.
Thank you.
To the folk who stand in the way of the train door so that it can not close in case the driver is not kind.
Thank you.
To Ma, who told me this morning that I have a day off next week, thus I can take day trips to Italy and France.
Thank you.
To my German language teacher. I understood something you said this week.
Thank you.
To the bakery around the corner. I'm willing to spend all my money on the chocolate croissants you make. Perhaps you could give me a loyalty card.
Thank you.
To ML3, who has started talking to her dolls and the cats in English. I can be a part of these conversations.
Thank you.
To all you kind ladies who give your expensive new size 41 shoes to the Brocki that I'm about to visit. Oh, you haven't done that yet? Nothing like a timely reminder. Summer shoes please.
Thank you.
Wednesday, April 29, 2009
Life with Different Sized Feet
I knew it was time for a visit to the Brocki House/Salvation Army/Opp Shop/Second Hand Store.
I know this because yesterday I was walking in our village and my heart quickened when it saw second hand clothing in the window of a shop. Thankfully I have a quicker brain because it was a Dry Cleaner's shop.
Close call. That could have been embarrassing.
It did make me wonder if many people ever go into clothing repair shops, dry cleaners etc and just browse through the items.
And so today i set out in search of a form of heaven on earth and went to one right next to the main train station in Zurich.
I did discover that my feet are not the same size as each other. Or perhaps that pair of shoes didn't quite match up.
I hope it was the latter.
I was pretty happy to discover a Europe travel book (this will of course save me money in the long run) and a cute little handbag (this will help carry my money for the long run).
And so for now I feel content. Until I see the next dry cleaner's shop.
I know this because yesterday I was walking in our village and my heart quickened when it saw second hand clothing in the window of a shop. Thankfully I have a quicker brain because it was a Dry Cleaner's shop.
Close call. That could have been embarrassing.
It did make me wonder if many people ever go into clothing repair shops, dry cleaners etc and just browse through the items.
And so today i set out in search of a form of heaven on earth and went to one right next to the main train station in Zurich.
I did discover that my feet are not the same size as each other. Or perhaps that pair of shoes didn't quite match up.
I hope it was the latter.
I was pretty happy to discover a Europe travel book (this will of course save me money in the long run) and a cute little handbag (this will help carry my money for the long run).
And so for now I feel content. Until I see the next dry cleaner's shop.
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