Thankful Thursday 6

Another installment of Thankful Thursday...

1.   Danielle
Our friend Danielle has been here (from Kentucky!) doing an internship for the past two months.  Next week is her last week here.  Boo!  We've had so much fun with her.  She's not short of hilarious and great ideas for fun.  Except for one.  We won't dwell on the warehouse bar night though.  We're thankful we've gotten the chance to get to know her these past seven weeks.  Here's a recap of her time... that we have proof of.  We have no idea what she was up to without our supervision.

Don't be alarmed people.  This is actually her husband.  Who is equally as charming.

 
We'll miss you Danielle!


2.  Inflatable Rafts
All I want to do is this...

Bought this the other day in preparation for lake day.

But first, I have to read this...

Attention!:  No protection from drowning!  Swimmers only!  

And I definitely need to read this...

Nope.  Not kidding.  My raft came with an owner's manual.

My favorite rule:  This product should not be used as life saving device.  I told Adam when we go out and he's screaming for help, I absolutely cannot throw this to him.  I must find some other source of life preservation.   

I'm taking it back.  Too complicated, plus it says you have to be a swimmer to use this.  I just want to relax with a cold drink.  No activity.  I don't know if I'm ready for this pool raft yet.  Better stick to one of these...

   

Perfect for lake Geneva.   Classy and fits in with the local animals.

I'm thankful they have my safety as a priority.

3.  Learning
For the first two months here we didn't know we had an outlet in our bathroom.  I did all my womanly electronic stuff (blow drying, straightening, karaoke, etc.) in the hallway.  Without a mirror.  So, I have an excuse for any hideous pictures taken then.  Adam shaved in the hallway.  With this outlet:

...notice the kitchen.  Hair frequently ended up there.  I know.  Gross.  We recently discovered that we do have an outlet in the bathroom.  Better late than never.  I'd be irate if we found it while moving out.  Here's where I discovered it:

Here's to learning new things.  PS.  Seriously?  Who puts an outlet there?!

New addition.

There is a new addition to the Hughes family.  Look what I found... in Switzerland.  It was only 8chf (~$10) and it looks like a mini saguaro.  We'll see if I can keep it alive.  I kill plants like it's my job.

 

Just wanted a little piece of Phoenix around the apartment.  

the cactus with Scotty (made by our nephew)

Jackson checkin' it out.

The resident camel with the cactus.  I wouldn't be surprised if I come home and Rocco has eaten this thing.  He's been known to destroy potted plants when he gets tired of Purina.  Notice his new haircut.  He had to get his right ear hair cut off after the mange set in.  I think he had been chewing on it.  Weirdo. 

Sorry if you just wasted your time reading this.  It's Friday.  Hope everyone has an awesome weekend!   

  

Organizational mastermind.

One of the things we've had to get used to over here is the lack of closet space.  Well, Adam wouldn't say it's been a struggle.  I, on the other hand, have two minor problems...


Problem 1:
One of these problems is the amount of clothing I have accumulated.  Shopping (for deals) is a habit that my mother has ingrained in me... as well as all of the other females in my family.  We like to shop.  However, I can confidently say that you won't see me on 'Hoarders' or 'True Life: I Mortgaged My House for a Purse.' I've actually gotten better since moving here because everything is SO expensive.  I'm talking ridiculously expensive and I'm not one of those gals.  I'd much rather go to H&M and buy a cheesy car.  Adam should consider himself lucky.  I can easily turn and make things very bad for the Hughes household... but I won't.  I can rock some Target flats and we can still afford to eat and pay our mortgage... and pay off our credit card each month.  Rackin' up those Continental points!!!

Rue de Rhone is one of the most popular shopping strips in the world and I can literally walk there in about ten minutes.  However, this street is filled with luxury shops.  You can find me on a sunny day window shopping at Chanel, Hermes, Christian Louboutin, Louis Vuitton, Rolex, Celine, etc.  More than likely it's because it's on the way to the Movenpick ice cream stand.  The parallel street, Rue de Marche, is my stomping grounds.  I am not a fashionsita.  Just look at my pictures on Facebook.  Some are shameful.  I once stood in front of the Christian Louboutin store gazing at the pretty shoes... wondering if flip flops were allowed inside.  I immediately looked at my horrific feet and decided that they wouldn't appreciate me sticking my callused, blistered (see Venice blog), stanky foot inside of one of their shoes.  They'd have to burn it.  I sadly walked home... with my ice cream in hand.  By the way, I could have had about four pairs of these bad boys for what we paid for the Wildcat Mobile.

Just the visual above makes me happy I don't have an extreme addiction.  

Although my loyalty will always be with Target, TJMaxx, and Gap, my favorite shopping locale for the past few years has been H&M.  I discovered it when we were in Orange County a few years ago and then one opened in Scottsdale.  Now, it's rare if I don't come across one daily.  There are four within about 10 minutes of us.  Four.  Ridiculous.  It's a fairly cheap store with cute clothes.  They also have frequent sales.   I try to stay away, but when I 'need' something or am in the mood to browse... that's where I start.  

Since this post is beginning to get off track and I don't have the editorial zeal to transition here, I'll just reiterate my first problem:  I have too many clothes from my years of deal hunting.  I gave a bunch away before we left, but still... I have an absurd amount.  By the way, The Boys & Girls Club will come to your house with a truck and haul donations away if you can't fit it into your car.  Pretty awesome.  

Problem 2:

Moving from Phoenix, we left two glorious walk-in closets... the smaller one is the size of our bathroom here.  We remodeled the one in our master bedroom and installed Rubbermaid shelving to the ceiling. We considered putting a hot tub in there, but the logistics of getting it up the stairs just didn't pan out.  It was awesome and I always took people on tours of the closet.  Wierd, but I was a proud mother.  I'm so jealous of our tenant.  

Our apartment here has some organizational drawbacks, but I have to keep telling myself that out of all the apartments we looked at this one was the nicest, cleanest, biggest, had the most storage space, and I wasn't going to have to work in the Red Light District so we could afford it.  Side note:  I know I sound like a spoiled-rotten brat writing about the lack of closet space.  I thank the Lord everyday for allowing us to be here in good health, have a place to live, clothes on our back, and food in our bellies... among several other things.  It's just been an interesting adjustment and people have said they like seeing pictures and hearing about what life is like here... and this is part of it.    Anyway, we have four closets and a 'cave' (pronounced like kahv).  Four you say!?  Yes four, but please see the pictures below for visual assistance.  I bet you have something totally different in your mind.  This problem haunted me for about thee months.  We basically lived out of suitcases for February and March.  April was all about settling into our new apartment and figuring out where to put all of our crap.  'European walk-in closet' is an oxymoron.  I've never seen one.  If one does exist it's because they converted a bedroom.  If someone tells me they have a walk-in closet here I put them on a 'watch list.'  I don't know if I can immediately trust what they say.   

{Adam's closet... in the hallway.  Everything fits.  How nice.}

{My closet in the living room.  Yes, living room.  I don't want to get into how much I dislike folding.}     

{My shelves next to the bed.  Yuck.}

{My shoe space behind the door.  Takin' it back to college days.}

{My closet with shoes, purses, and belts.  Don't be fooled.  It's smaller than it looks.}

{Another eyesore in the master bedroom.  Dresses, coats, jackets, etc.  PS, hangers cost an arm and a leg and I don't like colored ones.  I know.  I'm a wierdo.  I refused to buy anything but white at home.}

Check out my creativity and ingenuity....

{plastic tubs}

{Old wooden doors?  nails!}

{I'm now a master folder.  Gap would hire me in an instant}

{I have to place my shoes ever so carefully in a 'nesting' pattern so they won't fall out.}

"Excuse me Ashley, but instead of migrating between six different locations to get ready, why don't you guys buy one of these?"

Because we would have to buy it, transport it, haul it up to the fourth floor, and assemble it.  That's actually the easy part.  Mainly, it's because we're thinking about the future.  If we couldn't find someone who wanted the apartment with one of these in it already (yes, those people exist), then we would be responsible for having the massive beast removed.  We'd probably just break it into pieces and throw it over the balcony.  Or start a small fire.  If you want to schedule a trip to Geneva that will coincide with moving one of these out, then let us know.

Here's our creepy 'cave.'  It's where we keep Christmas decorations, Winter clothes, skis, the bike, and sometimes Rocco when he's bad.*  Sorry if this gives you nightmares.  

         

Au revoir!     

*Just clarifying for any animal activists who might possibly read this and are planning an intervention... we don't actually store our dog in this 'jail cell'.

Try saying 'jail cell' ten times fast.   It's frustrating.    

    

       

Minor Differences.

Today's blog is dedicated to a few 'struggles' we've had since the move.  By no means are these struggles comparable to things that some of you are experiencing right now... like childbirth.  Shout out to our thirty-eight friends who are new-mommies or are soon-to-be-mommies.  Your children will be old enough to babysit our hellion when the time comes.  These minor differences have caused mental frustration and near death experiences.  They are in no particular order...

1.  Going up?

The first one is a minor difference in the 'floor concept.'  I don't know what else to name it because it has never come up as an issue and I'm fairly certain this will be the only place on the internet where it's discussed... 'floor concept' it is.  Test yourself to see how knowledgable you are on this: 

What floor are you on when you enter a building from ground level? 

Get in the elevator.  Press 3.   Which floor will you arrive at? 

If you are on the first floor and take the stairs up to the next floor, what floor is that? 

Tricky.  I know.  Here is a diagram to show you why we're having issues.      

We live on the floor with the star.  The problems arise when we have friends (rare) that come to visit or we try to give directions to someone.  The conversation usually goes like this:

Friend:  "We should get together some time." 

Me:  "Heck yes!  Come over right now!  I haven't had proper socialization in months.  I would love nothing more than for you to come over, stay for eight hours while we talk, drink wine, and eat chocolate."  

Friend:  "Alrighty.  Where do you live?"

Me:  "Well, take bus ____, go to building # ____, the door code is _____, and we're on the...... dammit.  

Friend:  "What floor is it?"

Me:  "Well, if you're in America it would be the fourth.  But... we're actually on the third.  It doesn't make sense.  If you take the stairs, you'll act like you're going up to the fourth floor, but it's actually the third in Geneva standards.  It's SO crazy!  I know....[long pause].... Hell, just get in the elevator and press 3!  You'll enjoy the pleasant surprise of expecting a view from a third floor window when it's actually the fourth.

The friend winds up not being baffled by the floor concept.  They struggle with the fact that there are sixteen streets intersecting in front of our apartment with no street signs. 

Also, I try to stay away from buildings that may have multiple underground levels.  It's too much for me.    

2.  Electrical Outlets

The second minor difference is the fact that the plugs and voltage are different.  That's an obvious one.  It was fairly easy to deal with in December for our trip, but actually moving here and dealing with it was a problem.  We only brought like seven electronic things with us: cell phone chargers, Adam's shaver, Wii, Ooma device, and computers... oh and we accidentally brought the vaccuum somehow.  Everything else (tv's, blender, toaster, hair dryers, straightener, curling iron, iron, dvd players, lamps, stereo, etc.) was either left at our house in Phoenix to rent with it or in KY with the parentals. 

In December, I successfully fried my straightener because I wanted to 'test' it out to see if it worked.  Sad day and looking back I probably needed a babysitter during that trip.  Now, we have to figure out whose computer or phone will be sacrificed while we vaccuum or shave (Adam).  We have two converters and one of them sounds like a spaceship when plugged in... can't be good.  We also cannot plug anything that produces heat into them (heaters, blow dryer, curling iron, rollers, etc.) because it would result in a large block-wide fire.  We've spent a frustrating amount of money on electronics we already owned, but just weren't equipped with the correct electrical innards. 

There may also have been a couple of shocking instances.  I don't want to talk about it though.  Here are some pictures of  our outlets... two of which are in unforgiving locations.  



                                 



Horrible location.  I sometimes plug in my cell phone here and let it hang.  It should be noted that there are a total of zero outlets in our bathroom.  This is where I dry my hair.  In the kitchen or hallway.  Classy.

There's no excuse for installing an outlet right next to the door handle (if you can even see it).  The only thing I could possibly imagine being plugged in here is a neon beer sign... or one of those bug zapper lanterns.  Appropriate of couse.



3.  Excessive change.  

Switzerland has a beautiful array of coins and bills... Swiss franc (chf) is the name.  Maybe you've heard about it on the news lately?  It has taken me roughly four months to get the hang of the change here.  That's a little bit longer than it takes the average six year old to learn US coins.  I actually paid for a grocery trip completely in change the other day (I think it was about 50chf).  I got several 'hurry it up lady' looks, but it's because there are so many different sizes and amounts.  I'm used to only having enough change in my wallet to buy a diet coke and a Snickers if I'm lucky.  Accumulation of change around our apartment is out of control.  We need a larger piggy bank.  The change comes in 5, 2, 1, .50, .20, .10, .05  The bills also go from 10 to 1000.  The 1000's are giant and don't fit in the wallet that well... because that's what I carry around with me.  I refuse to carry anything smaller.  Hahaha... we did get to hold some 1000's once when we bought the Wildcat mobile.  It was a short lived trip from the ATM to the DMV.   



used pic from KlutzyChef



Au revoir!