pick pocket

I have been mugged, well not really but somebody stole my bag on the train. I didn’t see a thing, my bag was right in front of me on the pull out table, admittedly I was dozing but then whoosh it was gone! I can not explain what an awful feeling it was to be stuck on the train with nothing not even a tissue for my leaking eyes. I eventually found a conductor who told me thieves are dogs (I quite like dogs but kept that information to myself) and wrote his name down on piece of train paper. He took me to the police booth but it was closed so advised me to carry on to work. I boarded the tram with nothing but the train man’s name and number and stressed myself silly till I arrived at work and promptly burst into floods of tears. My bag had everything in it, purse, cards, keys, phone, passport, my home address, my half read book and my make up.

My lovely colleagues rallied round and helped me cancel things and my sweet Irish one raced out to by me a pre pay phone, I borrowed money and started the journey back home terrified that some burglar would have read my diary and used my please return to address and my keys to casually steal everything I own. Hysterical – yes a little bit.

I met Mr. Rigby at the airport to get his house keys and he went to ask one more time if a bag had been handed in. It had and thankfully all that was missing was my purse, phone, sunglasses and bizarrely my little pen set (that must have been a crushing disappointment to the thief) the relief was so good. So in the end I am out 100 odd euro and have no access to my pay on pay day but at least I got my chanel mascara and a brand new pretty wallet from Mr. Rigby.

I have now taken on a new role of warning everyone who is trying to sleep on the 7am train to please keep an eye on your bags!

 

 

 

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Thank you

I missed you when you were gone, it reminded me how much you are part of my everyday and I know there will always be times when we are apart but it is a nice warm feeling to know that you will always come home to me. I am always sorry when I have been grumpy with you but I know that too is a part of everyday, of sharing a life together. On Saturday I walked down the Prinsegracht and I pottered through that antique shop we like and at one point I found a plate and picked it up to show you, so much is that activity a part of us that I thought you were there. Thank you, I never realised it could be like this.

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Stag

The Talented Mr. Rigby is off on his stag do this weekend,he is going to Lowlands to camp, get muddy, watch bands and probably get very very drunk!! And to be honest I am a little jealous, a bride to be should not be jealous of the stag do should they? I foolishly offered to make curried vegetable pasties for their train ride well I say foolishly it was really a ploy to make sure Mr. Rigby thinks of me quite a bit, every bite should say “isn’t she lovely” “such a good cook” I’m not sure I can work being sexy into a pasty but I will try, I will try.

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De Uitkijk

Last night we went on a date just movie and dinner but oh what a cinema it is. De uitkijk is a very old cinema on the prinsengracht with one screen and a balcony. The balcony is spectacular (see picture above) with little tables with lamps and big comfy seats. It is such a treat to see a film here. It feels so special to sit there with your glass of wine watching. But last night it got even better, when we got to our seats there were little drinks menus and pencils. You tick what drink you want, get your money out and when you feel in need of refreshment you press the buzzer and turn on your light. Someone comes up takes your order and then brings you more wine. I mean does it get any better than that?

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Everybody say Cheese!

I hate having my picture taken. I hate posing for pictures but most importantly I hate them because in my head I look great and the photos just don’t seem to reflect this. The talented one however loves having his picture taken and will grab a camera seconds after the photo has been taken to check himself out. He is also only really interested in pictures that he appears in and will flick through hundreds just to find one he is in. He isn’t particularly vain so I have no idea what the fascination is.

Hating having your photo taken is not a particularly good trait when you are about to get married as nobody will let you get away with not posing for a picture and will consider you a miserable old wench for not wanting to pose with every aunt,uncle, long lost cousin, waiter and once horribly when I was bridesmaid with my head gently resting on my bouquet.

But after some thought I figured if it was really going to upset me then it had to be the controversial “NO PHOTOGRAPHER”. However every time I said this people looked horrified, in fact the general impression seemed to be why bother getting married if you don’t take pictures. People also said things like how will you remember it (in my head the way I remember everything?!) and also what about when your kids want to look at the photos. This is a personal favourite of mine as the first thing I seemed to have done on discovering my parents wedding album is draw all over it in purple felt pen.

I relented a little when the talented one looked like he might cry and asked some good friends to take few pictures but somewhere along the line I ended up with a photographer. I realise that other people desperately want the formal line up shots of friends and family and it would seem I am the only one who doesn’t want it. Family and friends probably think I am over reacting but I am dreading it, it will be the longest 45 minutes of my life and worse still all those people who don’t have to stand around posing will be drinking. I would really much rather be with them.

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Happy Birthday Mr. Rigby!

Tomorrow is The Talented Mr. Rigby’s 30th birthday, he finally joins my decade.

How will you celebrate you ask well pretty much the same as last year with a picnic at the parade, the only difference being I will not be the only girl! Well I am hoping this is the only difference as last year I got a gift from the talented one as he knew I would feel left out having nothing to open. Yes I am that childish!

After watching the flamboyant boats and drinking way too much bubbles we will head to Mr. Rigby’s local, it is his night after all. I suppose.

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