This time next month I’ll be drinkin’ a frothy beer in Dublin. If you have any input on great placesrestaurantsbarsshopping, etc., send it my way.
Here are a few things that I purchased for myself on impulse as a reward for nothing.
1. Fuzzy Leopard Wallet
I totally needed a new wallet, so this is a justifiable expense. Also, this stupid wallet was originally $150.00 and I got it for $30.00. Who the frig would ever spend $150.00 on a wallet? You? You probably should not do that, because you can get them for $30.00.
2. Two (count ’em), TWO Rag & Bone Neon-Flecked Cropped Knit Sweaters
Why do I need two, you ask? Because. They’re both equally awesome and I liked them both. That’s why.
3. Burgundy Knee-High 70’s Boots with FRIGGIN AWESOME TASSELS
Awww yeah. So totally unnecessary.
4. Snakeskin Oversized Mick Jagger-esque Cool Guy Blazer
So, it’s been a while since I’ve splurged on a Sandro purchase, but I’ve had my eye on this blazer since it came out in early fall and it went on SUPER DUPER DUPER sale and they had one in my size and what-fucking-ever, I bought it.
5. *Perfect* Black High-Necked Fit-and-Flare Dress
Another Sandro sale purchase. So, it doesn’t really look like much on the hanger, but this bad boy fits like a G-L-O-V-E and make me look all svelte and lovely. It’s about ten pounds too small for me so I have to start eating less. But I will wear it… mark my words.
Seriously. How did I even live before this album came out?
Today in the Year of Living Un-Dangerously…
Despite the visible sausage-y tightness of my dress, I have lost 5 pounds of croissant-weight, so I was feeling pretty good today. Again, my forced conservative leanings led me to something dark, but it is still cut nicely so at least there is that… but still… boring… extremely boring. UGH, even my descriptions are getting boring. I’m sorry.
I tried a “French Twist” with my hair today…
From the front it looks OK, but I have a feeling that it looks like a mentally disturbed pterodactyl’s nest from the back. Since I don’t have one of those hairdressers handheld “look at your hair from the back” mirrors, I chose ignorance and wore it like this all day.
Since I had a long and luxurious six days to spend in Prague, I wanted to take some more time out from the “tourists-in-Crocs” scene that was the city center and find some cool day trips and explore the countryside.
First trip was Bone Church and Kutna Hora, which was OK, but it took a little too long to get there and back, and there were just as many ‘tourists in Crocs’ over there, and there was that married couple in front of me eating crunchy chips with greasy fingers the whole way over there as per my in-depth description which sucked.
To be perfectly honest, I didn’t have very high hopes for my second day trip to Konopište Castle. It didn’t have nearly as many recommendations in my city guide as Bone Church did, and when I asked my concierge about it (because I’m fancy and I have a concierge that I ask things to), she was like “Yeaaaaah, I *guess* you could go there.” …which didn’t exactly blow my skirt up with anticipation.
There were two main reasons I wanted to check out Konopište:
- It was Franz Ferdinand‘s (the Archduke, not the band… i.e. the person the band named themselves after…) castle. That dude who basically started World War I when he was assassinated… that stuff interests me; and
- Apparently Franz was *obsessed* with game hunting and has hunting “trophies” (read: horrible remnants of unnecessarily killed animals) all over his house. This seemed too nuts to believe and I wanted to see it.
So you take the train to Konopište, which is actually a really pretty drive through mountains and countryside. The train stop is at the foot of a beautiful park land, and the castle is basically at the top of the park land. My concierge tried to convince me that I needed a car to drive up to the Castle, but I was all like, “No, I’m bad-ass”, so I walked.
You totally don’t need a car. You can walk. Unless you are like, an elderly person or on crutches. You can walk.
I mean, look how pretty this shit is? Why would you want to get in a stinky car when you can walk in this paradise?
October is “off” season, and it was dead, and there was only one available tour. BUT that was actually awesome… because the T.C.Q. (Tourists in Crocs Quotient) was extremely low. There were four people on my tour including me, and no gross crunchy chip-eaters.
So… you are not allowed to take pictures inside the house. Which SUCKS. I snuck three – the one at the beginning of the post of the huge antler hallway and the two below before my tour guide got mad at me and swore at me in Czech.
Yes – that Mary figure is surrounded by goat horns from kills. And that entry-way? Again, more goat horns… and those fan-things around the top near the lights? Pheasant tails.
The house was C-O-V-E-R-E-D with dead animal trophies. I can’t express to you how covered it was.
You would go into one room, and it would be, like “The Mountain Goat Room”, and there would be 200 – 300 Mountain Goat antler sets on the walls – they would be from FLOOR TO CEILING.
And then there would be a huge eagle that had been stuffed and turned into a chandelier.
And then there would be three tiger-skin rugs.
And then there would be like, a stuffed wild baby elephant in the corner.
IT WAS INSANE.
At first you’re all like…”Dude, these things can’t be real.” But then you look at them all and they are real.
And then you’re like… “Dude, there is no way that he killed all these animals. Impossible. He bought them or some shit”.
But then you look at the mountings and EVERY SINGLE set of antlers has a location and date of when he killed the animal. And apparently there are COPIOUS records to prove that it was him that killed them.
Apparently, over the course of his life, he killed just over 300,000 animals on record.
Let’s just pause here. Being a mega-nerd, I decided to try and calculate this into “kills per day”. Let’s assume that he started recording his kills at the tender age of 15 (which is even kind of young, I think, but still…).
Let’s not forget that he was killed early and died at the age of 50. So that gives him 35 years of killin’ time.
300 000 kills / 35 years = 8571.4 kills per year
8571.4 kills / 365 days = 23.48 KILLS PER DAY
THIS MAN KILLED 23.5 ANIMALS A DAY EVERY DAY FOR HIS ENTIRE FUCKING LIFE. F’ed up.
Anyways, aside from the fucked up animal trophies, the tour was actually really, super interesting.
Since his assassination was unexpected and the family basically left the castle almost as soon as the assassination happened, they managed to keep things almost exactly as they had been in 1914 when he died. There were notes and diaries and journals on the desks, and his children has drawn pictures that were up on the wall… it was really interesting.
Also, he was really “modern” and ahead of his time – the house was one of the first that had plumbing and flushing toilets and even an elevator.
They also had the bullet that killed his wife on display as well as her repaired (yet still faintly blood-stained) dress.
Seriously, it was fucking cool. I have no idea why a bazillion people would go to Bone Church and not to this place.
Anyways, we walked around the grounds for a bit, then back on the train for the return to Prague.
Incidentally, there was this guy in our train car who came in with a giant woven basket full of CRAZY F-ING mushrooms that were the size of your fist and like pink and red and brown like in a wicked-cool fairy tale. He said that he went out and picked them in the park grounds and was going to take them home and eat them like a bad-ass. I wanted to take a picture so bad but maybe it’s normal to walk around with a giant basket of freaky mushrooms in Prague and I didn’t want to offend the mushroom-carrier guy. Just thought I would tell you because it was COOL.
So we get back to Prague and there was a balloon floating over the Charles Bridge out of nowhere like we were in oldy-time days. NO BIG DEAL:
Truly, the best part of Prague is the magical things you come across when you aren’t expecting them:
Tra-la-la-la. Anyways, later that night I had a delicious dinner of truffled crepe in a soup:
Then off to the PUPPET OPERA.
Yes I said PUPPET OPERA.
They show Don Giovanni every night at this Puppet Opera show and I almost plottzed my pants when I found out, so we went. I haven’t seen a puppet show in like 20 years so I was really excited.
Then I realized that they were selling tall boys of Czech beer for the equivalent of $1.50 Canadian, and then I was REALLY EXCITED:
Although the puppets were funny, we only stayed for two acts because Don Giovanni is the longest opera of all time apparently and the puppet theater wasn’t ventilated and all the kids smelled like farts and I felt like I was going to pass out from heat. So we went for…
PALAČINKA. OF COURSE.
I went with apricot jam this kind. IT IS BY FAR THE BEST ONE. Just so you know.
Tomorrow I go to the *actual* opera like a fancy person and I decide to come back to Canada for some reason. Le sigh.
Today in the Year of Living Un-Dangerously…
I felt the need to go super-conservative today because yesterday I wore a marabou brooch like a cah-razy person. It’s amazing how you immediately look old when you put your hair up. Here is hair-up-and-conservative attempt #2:
I call it “The School Marm”. I think it makes me look appropriately serious about my job, don’t you?
This year in outfit-a-day world is subtitled “The Year of Living UN-Dangerously”, because I may or may not have been told that I need to dress a little older and less interestingly or else people won’t take me seriously at work.
Like a knife to my heart.
So I’m trying to take this as an ‘interesting challenge’ (as opposed to a devastating horrible blow to my self-worth), where I dress older in order to conform to ‘the man’, while still not losing my identity and becoming one of those chicks who wears over sized beige suits from Sears with black running shoes to work.
I have to admit today I’m pushing it with my marabou fuzzy shoulder brooch. BUT, my hair is up in a prim bun and I’m wearing little stud earrings like in a Kate Spade ad… so hopefully it evens out.