Rock Me Amadeus

Ja, ja, I had quite a groovy time in Vienna. This time, only ten days with mother, thus avoiding a total nervous breakdown by myself (which happened last year when I was there with the two kids for something like six weeks). She is very high energy and manic, and I am of the slacker persuasion and, like oil and water, the two personality styles do not mix. A few pictures from the trip:



When I arrived at the airport, the paps kept snapping me and saying: "Over here Posh!" Not much happens in Vienna, so I guess they got themselves a bit confused, and seeing as I was an English bird with bags of style, they thought I was Lady Becks. I told them not to be ridiculous, that you could fit Posh down my sleeve, that I was simply Mommyhasaheadache, a world famous blogger, and why didn't they leave me the heck alone? But the damage had been done to my psyche. And for a while there I lost my identity and was channelling Posh:




Eventually I found my old scruffy identity and watched a bit of the Live Earth Concert, which was broadcast outside the mayor's house (Rathaus):




My mother exhausted me by taking me to a lot of parties:


And okay, keep it under your wig, but I did have a bit of a fling with a man who wore a lot of white face powder and told me his name was Wolfgang Amadeus (a likely story!)


Then, on my return from Vienna, my husband informed that something supposedly bad had happened to a mate of mine called Dodgy. I immediately sat down and penned Dodgy a letter:

Dear Dodgy,

I am so relieved you are out of my life. I am so glad someone stole you away from me while I was in Vienna. Let's face it, you were beaten up, damaged, and yeah, maybe I was guilty of inflicting those scratches on your rear and sides, but I was so sick of looking at your ugly face. Also, you were full of hot air. I'd switch on the AC and hot air would blast into my face for ten minutes before it turned cold. What a blessing that you are no longer around.

Good luck wherever you are. I know you might turn up again, but it's more likely that you are burnt up in a field somewhere, unrecognisable.

You will always be the first car I had after I learnt to drive. I'd like to say that means you'll always have a place in my heart, but let's not get sentimental, you were just my first car, someone to make lots of mistakes in, and frankly, I'm pleased we're no longer together.

Take care,
Emma

In case no one got that, it was a letter to my Dodge Neon that was pilfered during my trip away. I'm so happy about it because that car was such a pile of crap. Also, I reckon I should do all right out of the car insurance. Sweet.