This morning, my brother called at 6:30 in the morning to wish me a Happy Birthday. Gee, thanks, Ken. He was in Colorado just getting ready to go to bed. I was glad he called - we caught up with each other a bit. He had recently been in New York to see his daughter,
Nicola, dance. She's been with the ABT since graduating from high school last year. He was also calling to find out more information about the wedding. Nicola's dancing on the 20th and 21st in NYC, so Ken will go there first and see her, then fly into Amsterdam. He thought he might have to spend the night in London, but I think found another flight that will be easier on him. Still, it looks like he'll get in to Amsterdam at 6:30 AM on the morning of the wedding. I suspect he'll fall asleep by the time dinner is served on the boat.
(Jancy also gave some news last night, but for now I'll just say "YOU ROCK!" and leave it at that. She and Bobbi still plan to come.)
So after talking with Ken I rolled over and went back to bed.
An hour and a half later, Ian woke me up by singing Dutch birthday song. He also delivered flowers, chocolate croissants, coffee and orange juice to me in bed. (Have I mentioned how much I love my life here?)
I stayed in bed a little too long. E went to work and I got out of bed and read emails. I've been reconnecting with people (cousins included) that I don't see nearly enough.
Anyway, I'm now at work. I'm sitting here taking a break from editing a report on French Parental Responsibilites (which the French reporter insists on referring to as "autorite parentale" instead of parental authority or parental responsibility. It's an English report, so I'm going to gleefully do a global replace when I start wroking again) and listening to
Khachaturian's Sabre Dance on Launchcast. It's becoming increasingly apparent that I've had way too much coffee. It doesn't help that I'm listening to Khachaturian. I'm starting to think he had to have been a frequent cocaine user. That piece is just insane.
It wasn't just Ian's coffee that got me in this condition. In the break kitchen here at work they have this great little coffee machine that makes all kinds of coffee: Espresso, regular coffee, cappachino, mocha, plain hot chocolate. And it's real coffee. The Dutch have a long and intimate relationship with this particular drug.
OK - this break is over. Back to the editing... Or maybe lunch?
Labels: Birthday, Work
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