Samstag, August 13

Page Nineteen: The day after Constitution Day.

Well, dear M. The Constitution day was a nice experience, although maybe a bit too nationalistic for my taste. But it was fun to watch the parade and wave my little flag when they passed, but I didn't feel extra patriotic and extra moved by the whole spectacle. Maybe I'm just too young for it all. I was moved by the silent minute we held outside the church after father Helendale's service, but that was more since I saw how moved many of the others were. The Open Stage event at the Odeon theatre turned out quite well too, although I felt for awhile that maybe I shouldn't perform after all. Lydia Yalin began it all by singing a patriotic song and Jo Yardley read two beautiful poems and I thought that my more down-to-earth music hall-ish performance would feel quite wrong after that. Then a woman called Almut Brunswick read a couple of amusing poems and then I felt that the whole event lightened up a bit, so then I decided to do my act. My act consisted of me dressed as a ballerina, while doing some ballerina movements telling some really awful ballerina jokes. I decided to not change outfit for the performance and just go on stage and do it in my black, red and yellow dress (yes, just like the flag) instead, and that worked just as well. I got an idea while being on stage to make fun of the old Odeon Theatre habit of falling down the orchestra pit, so I ended the whole performance by taking a giant leap OVER the orchestra pit and landed in the audience - without injuring anybody ... severely. After that Alf Korhonen played a short but beautiful piece on violin, and Morganic Clarrington performed after that, showing off his beautiful voice. Father Cuthbert Helendale told two jokes, Almut made an encore and read another poem and after that I think we ended it all by singing the national anthem. After that, there were fireworks at Parisenplatz, but I got to bed shortly after that, even though a strange gentleman herr Lost stood outside my window and wanted to talk to me about an old artifact (a claypot to be more precise), even though I felt that I just wanted to sleep. Finally I ignored it all, and just went to bed. Today I have been playing around with an old motorcycle with a sidecar, that I bought from an old man who told me that he had bought it way back in 1915. It had a motor that sounded like an electric sewing machine, and the exhausts were horrible, but it was fun to drive ... and it uses less gasoline than my car and my van. I don't believe I can use it for guiding tourists, there it's better to walk or use the van, but for shorter excursions it's much better than any car. Anyway ... I have to admit that I like engines ... maybe more than is appropriate for a young woman. Well, dear M., tomorrow is the big day. It's the long awaited Miss Berlin contest, and I have decided to compete, and I can only do my best, but I think the chances of me winning are extremely small. I have now seen the list of the other competitors and they are all extremely beautiful and charming and talented women, but never mind. It is a new experience, and I'm sure it will be both interesting and fun. I know that YOU would vote for me if you could, dear M, but then I would vote ten times for you too, since you are the most beautiful woman that ever existed in the whole world. I love you. XXX Rosie. 

(Between the pages and old sepia photograph of a young woman on a stage is inserted)

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