A womanly hole in my hand

Call me a woman, if you like, but I seem to enjoy spending money.
Last week we bought a printer in Eindhoven and despite the obvious problems of getting the thing home, I was humming cheerfully at the end of the day. And I noticed it again as I was shopping for some Drachenfest things. Some things are for other people (coloured lenses) and some things are just because we need them (a new tea pot). But all in all, I was having a blast.

I picked up ten spunges, several brushes, a set of skin-colour make up, coloured lenses, but also a new pepper mill (because NoKey's old one sucks) a new tea pot, a urinoir-steel^* embossed tea tray for the Anarquendor, large and sturdy shopping bags that zip up at the top, ideal for bags of banners, tablecloths and costumes, etc.

Okay, now I'm broke. Tea, and then it's off to Rotterdam with me!

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*) This is a Dutch expression. I am not kidding. We call it "Pisbakkenstaal".^**
**) Okay, it's probably not really a urinoir-steel tea tray, but it definitely looks slightly cheap and I'm not sure it isn't. But it will look cute on my side board.

Ghost story (true!)

I heard some thuds from upstairs and suddenly the livingroom door opened behind me. I swivelled around in my swivelly swivel chair.
In the hallway stood a ghostly image wearing white silk pyjama pants that were nearly as white as his skin. Dark circles beneath his eyes made the image even more eerie.
"Hai." it said.
"Hi." I replied. It was obvious I had some experience with these types of occurances. "You're awake." I continued, pointing out the obvious.
"Yes." came the reply. It licked its lips a few times, trying to make sense of the taste of dead koala babies on its tongue. It didn't improve matters much. "I heard a mosquito."
"You should probably kill it." I replied. Our mosquitoes can wake the dead. How quaint.
"Where is the bug zapper?" The ghost managed to master words with multiple syllables. Well, one word with two syllables, but it still counted. Possibly it would dissolve from the effort. This was clearly higher-brainpower stuff.
"It's next to your side of the bed." I smiled. It was right next to him when he woke up, but he still felt the need to come down the stairs.
"Is it in one of the boxes?"
"No." I smiled. "I nearly climbed over you a week ago to get at the bug zapper. You didn't even wake up." But then, that's only because only mosquitoes can wake the dead. Girlfriends climbing all over you, cannons being fired in the street, cats barfing in your shoes, it just doesn't come close.
"Oh." Ah, we were back to single syllables again.
"How was the soup?" I asked him. This would really be a test of my post-mortem communications. Ghouls have infected people for less. Vampires brave sunlight to get at people asking these kinds of questions. This was tricky terrain at best!
"It was very nice." the ghost said.
"Did you finish it all?" I asked, incredulous. Eating must be really hard for the incorporeal.
"It wasn't that much." he replied. There was a moment's pause as the good things in the afterlife, meaning the soup, were contemplated.
I decided to kiss the ghost. It stumbled back up the stairs, possibly in search of soon-to-be-dead mosquitoes.

He was, in hindsight, pretty cute. But mostly just very sleepy.