(Billet started Thursday night, around midnight)
I just returned from Kontakthof which was the first, tonight at TNB.
I was in fifth place on the left, opposite the mechanical horse with a heavy cold qu'enfourche a girl in purple dress who had asked it for a few coins to spectators timid.
I wear a dress with short sleeves, but I still very hot, I hide my money under the trench laid on my lap.
My neighbor made the call and I acquiesce politely: Is what I saw documentary, is that I am a subscriber to the SBT, what I do for a living (there, she took a look very surprised *), and I like what I do for a living Is what I know there the same show played by older, but still it must be worse, it's really not the same audience as usual, the scenery is really beautiful, it has fortunate to be well placed. She tells me she
abandoned biology studies to begin a course of performing arts, because it has been slow to admit it was rather literary.
And fortunately, the show began.
At first I was a little taken aback, there was a lot waiting for me (remember that for my place, I stalled half past one in front of the ticket four poor students where special seats were available for twenty girls with glasses who coveted square behind their large glasses) and was a bit anxious, I was afraid of being disappointed. This was the case a little early when I found that the main role was not required by Joy, this girl liked me so diaphanous in Tanztraüme , but by a small brown n ' was no any of its particular sensitivity and magnetic.
I still was quickly caught by the grace and rhythm of the show, charges and removed, and so sad too, because I feel that only missed meetings, loves missed appointments violent, awkward hugs. I was very moved by their final hello, happy and exhausted.
I found that the public was being unfairly pinched and cold so I quickly spun into the night to avoid hearing unpleasant conversations output performance.
Otherwise, excellent and heartening news is that after the defense of a thesis which is concerned (not like my memory, but I do not know if c This is a good thing), there will be a plane to New York in early spring! So if you have any advice addresses or stashed , I'll be very happy to experience them. In the past, with Amsterdam as Sweden, the tips readers have always been up to ... Thank you in advance!
I just returned from Kontakthof which was the first, tonight at TNB.
I was in fifth place on the left, opposite the mechanical horse with a heavy cold qu'enfourche a girl in purple dress who had asked it for a few coins to spectators timid.
I wear a dress with short sleeves, but I still very hot, I hide my money under the trench laid on my lap.
My neighbor made the call and I acquiesce politely: Is what I saw documentary, is that I am a subscriber to the SBT, what I do for a living (there, she took a look very surprised *), and I like what I do for a living Is what I know there the same show played by older, but still it must be worse, it's really not the same audience as usual, the scenery is really beautiful, it has fortunate to be well placed. She tells me she
abandoned biology studies to begin a course of performing arts, because it has been slow to admit it was rather literary.
And fortunately, the show began.
At first I was a little taken aback, there was a lot waiting for me (remember that for my place, I stalled half past one in front of the ticket four poor students where special seats were available for twenty girls with glasses who coveted square behind their large glasses) and was a bit anxious, I was afraid of being disappointed. This was the case a little early when I found that the main role was not required by Joy, this girl liked me so diaphanous in Tanztraüme , but by a small brown n ' was no any of its particular sensitivity and magnetic.
I still was quickly caught by the grace and rhythm of the show, charges and removed, and so sad too, because I feel that only missed meetings, loves missed appointments violent, awkward hugs. I was very moved by their final hello, happy and exhausted.
I found that the public was being unfairly pinched and cold so I quickly spun into the night to avoid hearing unpleasant conversations output performance.
At home, I nibbled the chocolate cake and lemon Thinking in this way so special that they had to touch the ear lobe or a lock of hair. ****
One Saturday, I hurried to rush to the bookstore before it closes and I find myself stranded in a novel over the weekend (and therefore bound to finish a book that I stacked on the shelf cursed and shameful example of Harold Pinter's life by Antonia Fraser, began on the beach in Biarritz, painstakingly pursued the plane was going to Sweden and then miserably forgotten at the bottom of the bag because of pronounced annoyance).
I had no specific ideas in mind, I liked something so delightfully written that the beautiful texts of Hervé Guibert in the photograph that I read with fascination and emotion a little each day.
While I look through the shelves of foreign literature, the nice bookstore (the one with curly hair and cute glasses, not the one with long straight hair who was laughing the other day of a teenager who asked him 's They had shelves Ulysses and high school) comes to greet me and even ask about my health (that's how I understand "Are you alright?" but it must be a professional deformation). So, I do what I never do, I wonder if she has read too much stuff lately. She then leaves many beautiful stories and defended with great enthusiasm but never seem silly, which is very significant. I say just what I like and it refines his advice. I have never thought this reception in a large bookstore like this. I tell myself that the bookseller loves me because we had talked at great length, with a shared enthusiasm, work Martine Camillieri when his book on the cuddly was out. So when she gives me a pretty box with Zulma and displays celebrating their twenty years of existence, I am delighted and surprised because I always fear that people find me intolerable and that any brand of kindness melts me a bit, especially because she says "I was waiting to have someone good to offer the box and I believe you. "
Once back home, I tell this little adventure to G. and I realize that I would rather know the publisher. I could invite him to drink tea, it does not seem too complicated. And then I would make him the coconut carrot cake . **** The
coconut carrot cake is loosely based on the very the purple carrot cake and coconut Lilo . It makes all my wishes for the perfect cake carott: something very soft, almost moist, delicately flavored with cinnamon, dried fruit without and with a very discreet taste of carrot. The addition of coconut is miraculous for me! As
G. does not bend the carrot cake in the presence of an icing, it was improvised by whipping the cream cheese with powdered sugar and lemon juice. He was absolutely delighted. Although
Purple Haze carrots are very easy to market, I chose the classic carrot high in the fresh air of the island Batz.
For a small pan 20cm diameter
-170g finely grated carrots
-100g of flour (T80 here)
-150g of sugar cane
blond-60g coconut (thank you Chris!)
-120g of salted butter melted
-2 eggs-domed yeast
1cc 1cc-domed
cinnamon Preheat oven to 180 degrees.
Combine flour, yeast, coconut, sugar and cinnamon.
Make a well and pour the melted butter. Mix.
Add the eggs one by one and then the carrots
Pour into buttered and floured or parchment paper.
Bake about 40 minutes.
I thought it was better cold. You tell me! ****
course I never dare ask the bookseller. This is nonsense.
One Saturday, I hurried to rush to the bookstore before it closes and I find myself stranded in a novel over the weekend (and therefore bound to finish a book that I stacked on the shelf cursed and shameful example of Harold Pinter's life by Antonia Fraser, began on the beach in Biarritz, painstakingly pursued the plane was going to Sweden and then miserably forgotten at the bottom of the bag because of pronounced annoyance).
I had no specific ideas in mind, I liked something so delightfully written that the beautiful texts of Hervé Guibert in the photograph that I read with fascination and emotion a little each day.
While I look through the shelves of foreign literature, the nice bookstore (the one with curly hair and cute glasses, not the one with long straight hair who was laughing the other day of a teenager who asked him 's They had shelves Ulysses and high school) comes to greet me and even ask about my health (that's how I understand "Are you alright?" but it must be a professional deformation). So, I do what I never do, I wonder if she has read too much stuff lately. She then leaves many beautiful stories and defended with great enthusiasm but never seem silly, which is very significant. I say just what I like and it refines his advice. I have never thought this reception in a large bookstore like this. I tell myself that the bookseller loves me because we had talked at great length, with a shared enthusiasm, work Martine Camillieri when his book on the cuddly was out. So when she gives me a pretty box with Zulma and displays celebrating their twenty years of existence, I am delighted and surprised because I always fear that people find me intolerable and that any brand of kindness melts me a bit, especially because she says "I was waiting to have someone good to offer the box and I believe you. "
Once back home, I tell this little adventure to G. and I realize that I would rather know the publisher. I could invite him to drink tea, it does not seem too complicated. And then I would make him the coconut carrot cake . **** The
coconut carrot cake is loosely based on the very the purple carrot cake and coconut Lilo . It makes all my wishes for the perfect cake carott: something very soft, almost moist, delicately flavored with cinnamon, dried fruit without and with a very discreet taste of carrot. The addition of coconut is miraculous for me! As
G. does not bend the carrot cake in the presence of an icing, it was improvised by whipping the cream cheese with powdered sugar and lemon juice. He was absolutely delighted. Although
Purple Haze carrots are very easy to market, I chose the classic carrot high in the fresh air of the island Batz.
For a small pan 20cm diameter
-170g finely grated carrots
-100g of flour (T80 here)
-150g of sugar cane
blond-60g coconut (thank you Chris!)
-120g of salted butter melted
-2 eggs-domed yeast
1cc 1cc-domed
cinnamon Preheat oven to 180 degrees.
Combine flour, yeast, coconut, sugar and cinnamon.
Make a well and pour the melted butter. Mix.
Add the eggs one by one and then the carrots
Pour into buttered and floured or parchment paper.
Bake about 40 minutes.
I thought it was better cold. You tell me! ****
course I never dare ask the bookseller. This is nonsense.
****
Otherwise, excellent and heartening news is that after the defense of a thesis which is concerned (not like my memory, but I do not know if c This is a good thing), there will be a plane to New York in early spring! So if you have any advice addresses or stashed , I'll be very happy to experience them. In the past, with Amsterdam as Sweden, the tips readers have always been up to ... Thank you in advance!
* when it comes to guess what is my job, people say things so different and amazing as architect, housekeeper, artist or pediatrician (ah almost). I like that it does not see, and there is a little mystery.
0 comments:
Post a Comment