Life Dreams: My Prince Has Come

I was working on a nice post for y'all but things kept interrupting, so I'll put it up tomorrow instead, and post something short instead.

I don't have a list anywhere of Things to Do Before I Die. But I guess I have a semi-conscious list that sort of floats around with me, because once in awhile there are these things that pop up and I'm like "Yes, I need to do that before I die."

Nothing like sky-diving (though I'd still like to do a polar bear dip, if they'd do it at night instead of the frikking morning.)

Around 2005 one of my besties was living in London, right next to Parliament, for a job. And one day said: Come visit me! And I was all, Naw that's crazy. And he was all, Why? And I was all, ... ... I guess it's not. I only had to pay for airfare, after all, which I got a deal on through the family program through my piloting papa. (Not standby, but still cheaper.) So I canceled one of the summer courses I was going to take and ran away for 10 days.

Lifelong dream trip, cause I'm a literary Anglophile. London. I visited the site Oscar Wilde's house, and the site of the club where he was when Bosie's father accused him of being a somdomite (sic). The street where Bertie Wooster lived, the apartment used as Poirot's apartment. Where Jane Austen stayed with her brother. The church where the Brownings were married in secret. It still fills my soul with a perfect-sunny-but-not-too-hot-green-day-in-June fresh feeling, every time I think of it.

Then today I was out somewhere, and standing at the bus stop, and I totally randomly thought... I really need to see Prince before he dies. Every time he came to Montreal, it was to tour an album I didn't like, so I didn't go. But I liked the last few, so I need to go. Plus I know someone whose facebook status when Michael Jackson died was, "There goes my chance to see Michael before he dies." Ack!

Well I guess this is as close to telepathy as I've ever gotten--ohhh the beautiful mental connection between me and Prince--because I just read a few hours ago, on my CBC news update email, that about 3 hours before I had this *magical thought* tickets had gone on sale for a Prince concert at the Montreal jazz fest. He called them up at the last minute and was like, I wanna play somewhere small with a dance floor. So they kicked two performers out of this great little club called Metropolis, and slotted him in.

Of course the tickets were all gone by the time I saw the news. And then I was too nervous to buy from an online scalper, but my mother encouraged me too. I hate to take chances with money... it's actually kind of a fault, if I might say so. But I gave it another go and with the help of an article found a website that has the tickets at their site before allowing them to be posted for sale. So I bought my scalpy from them instead.

Ooh the pocket book pain! The service charges are crazy!! But I've always heard Prince is amazing in small venues. He'd better be!!!

And then we can cross another dream off the nonexistent dream list.

I'm literally falling asleep on my computer.