sunrise, sunrise, looks like morning in your eyes

it just occurred to me that i never wrote about the day we went to see the sunrise.

well, it was in one fine morning a number of weeks ago.

no, actually, it wasn't. 

it wasn't a fine morning at all. in fact, we were having chilly, wet days, the kind that makes you wonder whether it's autumn already and whether you slept through the whole of  the summer. it was the kind we are having nowadays. so that's why we had to sleep with both our fingers and toes crossed, hoping for some kind of a miracle, that it would not be raining and the sky would not be as cloudy as it had been in the previous days. so we could see at least a tiny bit of the sun rising above the city.

and then i woke up in the darkest hour of the day, at 3.30 am, after less than three hours of lying in my bed, twisting and turning that i would not even call sleeping. i quickly got dressed, washed my face, and even staightened my hair. now one thing is for sure, and it is that i had never straightened my hair at just after 3.30 in the morning. but you know, i was about to go and see the sunrise, one of the most pure & magical things in the entire world. and what deserves proper straight hair if a pure summer sunrise doesn't? i mean, hello, random half-waves in my hair totally crash those silent, solemn moments of the sunrise.

at 4.07 sharp we set off, and walked to örs vezér square, since the trollies were not running yet. now that time of the day is the crack of the dawn in the middle of the summer. and i don't mean just figuratively, like how people always say that they did this or that at the crack of the dawn. we really did see the dawn cracking. we did not hear it cracking though, since at this time of the day there's still a vast silence hanging over the city. it's not quite the kind of silence that takes over the world when virgin snow covers all grounds and surfaces and the night is orangy and homely and all, but the roaring kind of silence that rules the world before thunders start thundering and storms start storming all around.

and then we got to örs vezér square. we had wanted to be there before the very first metro of the day left the station, we had wanted to see the bkv guys unlocking the locks and pulling up the gates that look like enormous blinds at the entrance. but since we are the lazy kind and the girly kind who can't always set off at the planned time, we reached only the second metro. still, we found out quite a few things about the not-yet-5-am underground. did you know that there was a very unique morning crowd on the underground? before 5 am the underground does not quite resemble its usual self, as it's not completely stuffed yet, there's still fresh air lingering around the metro cars. there are people actually smiling at each other, greeting each other, saying proper good mornings to each other, nodding their same old how-do-you-dos nods that they have been doing for god only knows how many years. they even save a seat for each other. before 5 am the underground does not feel like big city underground at all, but like some sort of a small-but-comfy bus that commutes the grandmas to and from the market place from one tiny village at the end of the world to  another one. 

we got off at astoria, then changed to tram 47-49 and rode it as far as gellért fürdő. that's where we got off, and that's where we started climbing up the hill. and that is also where the whole morning started to resemble that scene from moszkva tér when it's the eve of may 1st, right before the open air swimming pools are being opened for the summer and when the pools are being filled with water. and the guys in the movie sneak into gellért fürdő, grease the security guide/the guy who's filling up the pools and have a fun night in the pool which is completely empty except for the four of them. then they get some old chairs from god only knows where, take them to the middle of szabadság bridge, sit on them, put their legs up to the railings of the bridge, and watch the sunrise while eating kifli and drinking zacskós tej. now that's what i call pure freedom, even though it was set in 1989, and they were right before taking their finale exams in secondary school.

well, at this point, i might as well tell you that, actually, that's where the original idea came from, i mean our going to see the sunrise. moszkva tér is my favorite hungarian movie, and i have watched it quite a few times this spring/summer, and somehow it popped into our head to reenact that sitting-on-szabadság-bridge-watching-the-sunrise-eating-kifli scene. so the real reason of our waking up at 3.30 am was moszkva tér. but then zsö told me that if we really wanted to see the sunrise we had to get to some place really high. and the highest reachable place at 5 in the morning was the top of gellért-hegy. so we climbed up, but not to the top top top, but to that hidden look-out spot that i found some time ago when i climbed the hill on my own on one truly fine day instead of going to some dull seminar, and where i read eat pray love by elizabeth gilbert. now this spot is a really hidden one, hardly anybody knows of it, or at least i like to belive that hardly anybody knows of it. 

anyway, it was about 5 o'clock by the time we got there,  and the crack of the dawn was long over. it was light all around, but the sun hadn't quite risen yet. the entire city, or at least most of it, was still asleep yet. so we sat down, got comfortable and all, and waited for the magic to happen. 

but, i'm afraid, it never really happened. eventually the sun did rise, the sky did clear out to a certain extent, the clouds moved, giving space to the sun to shine. but there was no real magical sunrise showering the sky in a thousand pretty shades of pink. 

still, it was pure, and even magical in that bittersweet hungarian way that we all know so well, as we were sitting there, on the top of budapest, watching the city wake up, while munching on a couple of slices of an ever so yummy blueberry pie that we had baked with our own two four hands the day before. we sat there for about two hours, then, when we could not take all that beauty and the crispyness of a perfect summer morning any more, we gathered ourselves, and walked down the hill.

we crossed szabadság bridge on foot, wandered around downtown, then ended up in károlyi-kert. although it was only 8 am yet, it felt it was the middle of the afternoon already. well, after all, by that time we had been up and running for almost 5 whole hours. it was high time for some good old napping. so we got the big yellow blanket out, layed it down on that oh-so-well-kept grass of károlyi-kert,  and laid around for an hour or two. now that's  another thing, i had never done before, lying in the grass on a nice yellow blanket in károlyi-kert on a fine tuesday morning, when it's not even 9 am yet, when so many people haven't even drunk their coffee or brushed their teeth yet. 

so that's how we ended up reenacting the szabadság bridge scene from moszkva tér. 

it wasn't quite authentic i had to admit. we did not have any kifli or zacskós tej with us, neither did we promise that we leszőnyegpadlózzuk a moszkva teret. yet, i guess, that the guys of the movie would be quite proud of us had they known about the whole thing.

 it was one fine 2011 edition, that's for sure.

“I am completely a loner. In my head I want to feel I can be anywhere. There is sort of recklessness that being a loner allows me.”

                                                                       Arundhati Roy

So What Should I Do Now?

If only all my wishes would become true as fast and as simply as the one about my master studies. A couple of nights ago I received the small envelope text message that starts with "We regret to inform you...". I did not get into masters in American studies, even though I got maximum points for the admittance interview (or whatever it's called in English), and had an extra six points. I only had 76 in total, and missed the limit by four points. 

But I don't mind it at all. I am not disappointed the slightest bit; as a matter of fact, the feeling of unlimited freedom has taken over me. I did not want to go there, I did not want the see the smug and ever so bored faces of the same teachers for another two years, and study the exact same things I have spent the last four years with. It would have been a waste of time and effort (not to mention the semesters  payed for by the state). I feel as if this great burden has been taken off my shoulders, the bell jar has lifted, and I finally breathed in some fresh air. 

But then, on the other hand, it is as if the door of the cage has been opened up,  and I am free after four years of continuous squirrel cage, but now I have no idea what to do with this great, immense freedom. I am floating in the air, not belonging anywhere. I have no idea what to do next. 

Obviously, what would make the most sense is to start looking for a proper nine-to-five job and a room to rent where I could live from September. I could stay in Budapest, live and work here, but it would be utterly expensive, and rather difficult to make a living with the minimum/starting wage of a fresh graduate, paying for rent, travel, food, etc, especially since I am not a student anymore. 

I could also move back home to Miskolc, where living would be much much cheaper, as I would not have to pay for rent & food. I could work for a language school there, and even save some money. But I am afraid  that if I move back home, I would get stuck there, and never come back to Budapest. 

I could also pack up my stuff and hit the road. I could finally feed my wanderlust, travel, and gain some real life experience again. I could go back to England. I could go to Norway. I could go back being an au pair for another year or half a year, and set my foot in a foreign country. I am dying to travel and get to know new people and new places. I could finally put my English into good use. But, honestly, I don't have enough money saved up to start a living somewhere abroad. I would have to start working in Hungary first, save some money, only then would I be able to try my luck abroad. 

I will probably stay in this dorm for a few more months, as it's the cheapest way of living I can think of right now, continue working in the language school (why would I give up and leave a job that I already have? Doesn't make sense at all, does it?), start looking for another job (another language school, maybe? Is it possible to coordinate the two?). And then, I will see how things turn out. The important thing is to remain calm, and not to rush into a decision I haven't thought through properly. I do have the habit of making decisions in a rush, but then realizing that I should have given it a bit more thought. I might want to listen to other people's opinions and ideas as well. They might be cleverer than I am at seeing the entire picture and having a more objective point of the current situation. 

But until I make the final decision, all I can think of is what the great literary figures & the big influences on my life would do in my situation...

• Charles Webb would tell me to go home, spend the summer floating around in a swimming pool, find myself a Mr Robinson, let him seduce me, then hook up with his son as well, fuck up my life completely, so I can become a real grown-up in a few months.
• Jane Austen would advise me to find a husband and get married ASAP, settle down in a nice mansion in the countryside, then give birth to half a dozen children.
• Flaubert would also advise me to get married, get pregnant, get bored of my husband and fed up with marriage, commit adultery, and then, just to put the dot on the i, poison myself with arsenic.
• Tolstoy would also have me get married, get bored of my husband and fed up with marriage, commit adultery, get pregnant with a bastard child, and become an outcast. But, instead of poisoning myself, I would end up throwing myself under a train. Nice perspective, huh?
• Proust would simply tell me to go back into bed, stay there for the rest of my life and start writing unbearably long & unreadable, but critically acclaimed novels.
• Kerouac would tell me to hit the road already, and not give a fuck about anything. But bring along an insane friend and a typwriter on the road, so I could write about our crazy adventures. 
• Nabokov would also find me a husband but with an underage son, tell me to get married, murder my husband, deprave the child, and only then would he send me on a cross-country road trip with the beautiful & innocent boy on my side.
• Mark Twain would also tell me to hit the road, but find work, possibly something of the hard labour kind, meet a bunch of people, and gain some serious experience out there in that crazy little thing called life. Only then should I sit down, and write books about it.
• Plath would advise me to go down into the cellar, crawl under the floor with a bottle of pills and a glass of water in my hand, and give up on life completely (and, should I not succeed in the first place, turn the gas tap on and stick my head in the oven).
• Salinger would tell me to fuck it all, and leave for New York. I would fuck everything up even more on my way, but then I would feed the ducks in Central Park. And life would go on, anyway.
• Hemingway would advise me to go to war, experience some heavy stuff, then move to Paris, spend the days in grand hotels and charming little cafes drinking, smoking, talking, hanging out with Capa, Fitzgerald, and other extremely talented and supercool expat artists, and write novels in top-of-the-iceberg style every once in a while.
  
• F.S. Fitzgerald would tell me to party hard, find a mentally instable but incredibly handsome man, get married, party harder, write the great Hungarian novel about my college years, then move to Paris, and hang out with Hemingway. Party even harder, until I drop dead poor and unremembered.
•  Robert Capa would tell me to gather my cameras, go to some distant war zone, or at least to a relatively dangerous place, and start shooting people (with cameras, never with guns, even though other people might be shooting at me with heavy arms). I might get wounded on the way, might struggle, starve, and even steal bread and not pay for rent every once in a while, but I would meet the most fascinating people, and make my name famous by brathtaking photographs. I would also live in the gratest capitals of the world, such as New York, Paris, London, and Berlin.
• Joanne Harris would send me to a tiny, distant French village where, for months, I would struggle to fit in, but in the end I would succeed. But by that time I would get bored, and wanted to move on with the coming wind.
• Carrie Bradshaw, just like Salinger,  would also advise me to move to New York, but she would also tell me to buy a pair of shoes, play dress up, and write an article about my non-existent love-life every once in a while.
• Rory Gilmore would tell me to. Well, Rory Gilmore would never get into such a situation. But in case she did, she would steal a boat with an excessively rich and handsome blond guy on his side. Eventually she would suck it up, pull herself together, and not give up until she found some non-paying internship job at an acclaimed newspaper. Of course, she would not have to care about money, 'cause her grandparents are notably rich. And she went to Yale, anyway.

If I had the chance to choose, I would go with Robert Capa's way of life, and not just because Hemingway must have been real fun to hang around with. If only it wasn't the 21st century, the internet did not exist, and printed press weren't dying.

So, I guess what makes the most sense is Mark Twain's solution to my problem. I will probably have to stick to that one, I am afraid.

...and then i was an official graduate

"Hát ezt meg most hová tegyem? Zacskóba' kell tartani?" were my first words upon returning home from graduation ceremony. 

i don't really know how to feel about it. 

mostly, i don't care. i'm just glad it's over. i guess it's good to have another certificate on my shelf gathering dust.

i don't feel like going back there in september.

Caught in a Thunder Storm

Do you know what's the best thing about summer? Nope, it's most certainly not the sunshine, the heat, or all that shrivelling on the sun. 

It's all those amazingly beautiful thunder storms! I love love love storms, the larger the better (that's what she said), especially when there are earthshaking thunders and breathtaking lightnings all around. Not to mention the sweet and ever so marvelous scent of rain, and random cool drops soothing my blazing skin. Heavenly, isn't it?

We have had one of those gorgeous thunderstorms tonight, the air filled with the roaring sound of thunders for hours, while hundrends of lightnings have hit the ground. And I finally managed to catch a lightning with my camera! Well, actually, it was the first time I have ever tried, so there's no point in saying finally. Still, taking a photo of a lightning has always been one of my photography-related goals. Because it's something very unique, something that does not happen every other night, that is rather hard to catch, that's more instantaneous than more than anything else. Taking a half-decent photo of a lightning is not that easy at all. (Well, probably it is not that difficult if you have a decent camera and you use the proper settings. But I never found out what the proper or most helpful settings were. I guess I like making things more difficult than necessary.)

Anyway, with all those lightnings gilding the sky, I took my chance tonight, pegged down by the window as soon as the storm broke out, and did not leave until I had something relatively half-decent stored on the memory card of my camera. As you can see, it is a tiny-little, baby lightning, rather boring, no branches (or whatever they are called), no grandiose phenomena hitting the sky whatsoever. 

It might be yellower, it might be sourer, yet, it's mine. Next time, it will be better. I promise. I will not leave the window until it's better.

Until then, it's one small thunder for mankind, but one giant thunder for my photography.

Stacked Up

Fortunately the local library in Miskolc does not close for the summer until August, so I, too, could invade at least one library, and get a bunch of books before their month-long recess. As I have consumed enough silly little paperbacks lately, not to mention that I have plenty more of such entertainment at home on my shelves, I thought I would get some proper literature in Hungarian. But then this is what I ended up with:

• Diary of a Wimpy Kid by Jeff Kinney : This is the first volume of the widely popular and critically acclaimed series of children's books. I had already bumped into it several times on different book blogs, plus on imdb as well, as it has already been turned into a movie. I was quite taken by surprize when I saw it on one of the very few shelves of English books in my local library. It was an instant get, without a doubt. In fact, I have already read it, it is extremely hilarious, you simply cannot wipe off the smile from your face once you start reading it.
• Fever Pitch by Nick Hornby: I have only read High Fidelity by Hornby so far, but no doubt, he's one of the best contemporary British writers. He never fails to create a truly unique British atmosphere in his books, and complex & oh-so-hilarious characters. Not to mention all those pop culture references. This book is one long ode to the love of his life, football, that is (what else can you expect from a British bloke like him?), especially the club team, Arsenal.
• About a Boy by Nick Hornby: (never made it into the photo) Same reason as for Fever Pitch, plus, this is a novel that was adapted to the big screen. I liked the movie with Hugh Grant, I am curious about the book.
• Az ajtó by Szabó Magda: Hungarian classic, by one of my favorite Hungarian writers. Nuff said. (Should have read it a long time ago.)
• Puszibolt by Cserna-Szabó András: You may remember that I already loaned it back in January, but never got around reading it. I hate returning unread books to the library, nevertheless, it happens to me all the time. I thought I would give it another try, as I have heard only good things about it. Plus, I love the title! ( I do know the saying says that books should be judged neither by their covers nor their titles, still, they are and can be.)
• Kronópiók és fámák története by Julio Cortázar: I have never read Cortázar before, but Zsö has been chewing my ear about giving him a chance. So here I go, giving in to all that chewing & Cortázar.
• Robert Capa kalandos élete by Richard Whelan: Robert Capa is pretty much the greatest Hungarian photographer, and one of the best war photographers/correspondents of all time. I was surprized to find this biography of him in the lib, and since I am pretty interested in the guy, I got the book.
• Kissé elmosódva by Robert Capa: This one is written by Capa himself, supposed to be a story that he was trying to sell to movie producers. Thought I might as well get it together with his biography.

Furthermore, I placed on record (is it how előjegyzés called in English?) Közel Afrikához and Vissza Afrikába by Lángh Júlia. I have alread read Egy budai úrilány and Párizs fű alatt by her. Loved both, especially, the former. I enjoy Lángh's style, her first person narrative, and I can hardly wait to find out about her adventures & experiences in Africa. 

Well, as you can see, I have plenty of volumes stacked up for the next couple of months, so now all I have to do is get down to business and enjoy the ride.

What are you reading this summer?

It's Written on the Wind, It's Everywhere I Go

You know what? It's actually not social network that has taken over our lives, but this giant monopoly called google. I mean, obviously facebook is more popular than it has ever been, especially among teenagers; yet, it is only some sort of a playground (with its very own storms in the sandbox)  to us to which we might get have already got addicted easily, but cannot (and should not) take completely seriously. After all, we keep admitting to ourselves that it is only a waste of time, something that only distracts us from work or any kind of efficent, constructive offline activity. We enter the fields of social network when we crave distraction, when we want to procrastinate, just a few more minutes of fun until I get down to business, just let me take  one little peek at what has happened out there in the super-duper & ever so superfical world of facebook, let me check my notifications just one last time, before it's really high time I started working (sounds familiar?). 

We may spend ever so long minutes logged onto facebook on a daily basis; still, what was supposed to connect us, ended up withholding us from actual, real-life socializing by locking us to the flickering screen of our computers. Hence, had it been shut down by some miraculous reason, once the symptoms of withdrawal have wore off, we would be able to go on, like it never happened, like we never wasted those long and precious hours chatting, posting, liking, commenting, tagging, and stalking people whom we hardly or don't know at all. We would spend those freshly regained hours with doing some actually constructive activities, or, more likely, we would eventually find some other distruction. Still, it would be yet another playground to us. 

However, the thing that is impossible to avoid and not to come across on a daily basis if you are such an avid internet user (or should I say complete, incurable addict?), as I am, is google. Since, unlike facebook, it is not rubbed into our faces in every other second, we are not harrased to like some idiot company's page in every bloody advert may it be on a random page of the internet, on giant billboards, or on the paper bags of a pastry franchise. Still, google is there, google is everywhere, google is all around. It it written on the wind, it is everwhere I go.*

 Once I turn on my computer, google search is my opening page. God only knows how many times a day I hit the search button. A large number of times I only check the correct spelling of a word (don't you?), but in the majority of the cases I do succeed in finding useful information. Whenever a question pops up that we don't know the answer to, the first thought that comes to mind is: "Let's google it!" And we do. And if you know how to use google properly, you will find the answers to most of your questions, and not just the correct spelling of a certain word. 

Then there's my gmail account. It is my virtual post box, where all my precious mail (and all that spam, and useless newsletters that I always throw into the trash without reading, yet, I cannot be bothered to unsubscribe...) is delivered, where I can receive, send, and store formal & informal letters of all kinds. Then there is google calendar. I only use it for work, nevertheless, it is essential, as I  can easily keep track the lessons I give, and whenever an event is changed, I am notified via email. I check it several times a day, I cannot work/live without it. 

My next important google page is google reader which is my virtual, enormous newpaper with currentl, local, cultural, DIY, entertainment, fashion, photography, fun etc. sections. I follow about 200 (or even more?) blogs, and thanks to google reader, I don't have to open each every blog on a daily basis and see whether there is a new post in a certain blog I follow, but it's there, gathered in one long, ever so growing stream on one page. Obviously, I also use blogger for blogging, and every once in a while google map & google earth. 

Now, can you see how google is there everywhere & all around? It is almost like air, you can't see it, you can't feel it, don't acknowledge it every second, yet, it is inevitable to use it,  in fact, you simply cannot avoid using it. Naturally, I could switch to other services: I could use yahhoo (I don't even know how to spell it... I have to google the spelling. Isn't that ironic, or what?) as my email account, or wordpress for blogging, but it just never occurs to me to yahoo the answer, when I don't know something. Now that's what I call efficient marketing/PR ! 

And the most interesting thing about google is, that it has a very positive public image.  People generally dislike monopolies, as most of us roots for the Davids and not the Goliaths of the world. It's simply because we don't want one, giant bad boy to take over the world. Yet, when you think of google, the giant, let-me-take-over-the-world guy of the interwebs, you think of something nice, helpful, and colorful, don't you? Now why is that? Obviously, there are some seriously creative guys (with very niiiice paychecks in their backpockets) in an a very chic and cool-looking (and should I add colorful?) office somewhere who bend their backs on a daily basis, so this enormous monopoly that is has already taken over the world wide web evokes positive feelings in its users. Still, it feels like they do it effortlessly, it comes somewhat naturally. And that's the way we like it, don't we?

Oh, and have I mentioned that the newest thing around is google+? But you have already heard of it, haven't you? Cause the word spreads pretty fast in the world of google.  It is google's answer to facebook: it is social network, but, hopefully, it is of the useful kind where the emphasis is on sharing info, and not on exhibitionist teenagers spamming the internet with their trashy and ever so superficial and show-offy self-portraits. Now, how does that sound for a change? Quite utopian, doesn't it? Still, I am pretty sure, once it  spreads, google+ will also have its trashy ways, but until then let's just wait & see how this thing turns out. 

And now, if you really love me, come on and let it show*, and hit that like button under the post.

PS: How come I don't have a +1 button under my posts?

* Wet Wet Wet - Love Is All Around 

Those Lazy Hazy Crazy Days of Summer (pt. 2)

Those long, freedom-filled, but oh-so sweaty and sticky days of summer have hit me like a train on a track, coming towards me, stuck still no turning back, Ihid around corners and I hid under beds, I killed it with kisses and from it I fled, with every bubble I sank with a drink, and I still could not wash it away down the kitchen sink*. 

I don't know whether it's the heat, or that I work relatively lot, but I got way too lazy lately to blog... I am spending most of the summer in Budapest, teaching at the language school. Thank god there's work to do, and people who don't speak English at all or well enough, because it means that I won't starve in the coming months; in fact, I can put food on the table and roof over head. I give about 15-16 lessons per week these days which is, as I said, relatively lot, compared to the circa 9-10 I usually had in the previous months. It is still only about 4-5 hours of work per day from Monday till Thursday, yet, I find talking, explaining, concentrating, and being on my toes  (and playing a bloody dictionary, which I loath. I mean common, I am an English teacher, and NOT a dictionary. Do I have Angol-Magyar, magyar-angol kéziszótár written on my forehead, or what?!?) for four consecutive hours rather tiring, especially in this heat, with no A/C (or a fan!) in the school. 

So once I get home at about eight in the evening, I have dinner, then get stuck in front of the internet, mainly tumblr & google reader, try to scan through all those hundreds of blogs I follow, while trying to chill myself and the room with the fan. (Thank god I bought one! Best investment you can ever make in the summer.) Then, when I get sleepy and tired of the internet & scanning through boring blog posts & pictures filled with cliche quotes, I finally turn off the laptop, go to bed, heat myself with the spotlamp above my bed, and read until I can't keep my eyes open. I am too lazy even to answer emails & fb messages. But it's time I gathered and pushed myself to write and blog, cause there are things to write about, even though my summer is not even half as exciting as I had hoped it would be. 

Nevertheless, despite of the fact that my days are somewhat monotonous, the heat is hardly bearable, especially on public transport where everybody is sticky, stinky, and sweating like a horse, and the dorm is being ripped apart that comes with a good deal of hammering, drilling, knocking, dust, and annoying nuisance of all kinds, I am having quite peaceful and relatively happy days. There isn't too much to worry about these days which I haven't had the pleasure to experience for about six or seven months. Well, except for one thing, though, which is how my life will turn out to be from September. It's still a question whether I got accepted to MA studies at ELTE or not. I don't have to wait too much though, as the results will be revealed on 20th. Although I am quite positive I don't want to go there anymore, I would still be disappointed if I weren't accepted. (Try to figure me out...)

I guess it's because I would see it as (another) failure and proof of my inadequacy. Plus then I would have to make some decisions very quickly, such as figuring out what I want to do from September, where I would live, whether I would be able to make a living by working only at the language school. I should most certainly find another job then. And this whole moving on & really growing up process is scary. Or maybe surely I am not brave enough. So that's the only reason why I hope I did not screw anything up with my application and will be accepted. 

But then there's also another part of me that wishes I wouldn't get accepted, cause then I would have to look fear straight in the eye and go out of my comfort zone. 

Conclusion: figuring out myself and what I want to do is not easy at all. In fact, it's more complicated than anything else I can imagine. 

(And it is not at all what I had wanted to write about.)

* The Dog Days Are Over by Florence and the Machine.

Currently Reading

...and loving it!

"Listen to me: I said you need to strive to be better than everyone else. I didn’t say you need to be better than everyone else. But you gotta try. And that’s what character is: it’s in the trying." Coach Taylor, Friday Night Lights

the awkward hilarious moment when you eat watermelon with a fork.

'cause that's how your mom put it down in front of you: melon cubed, accompanied by a rather large fork.

it's your very first melon in the season. and it's truly, deeply summer, with pretty pink sunset and the whirling sound of the fan in the background.

i love summer.
i love melon more.

but it's my mom that i love the most.

Reading List 2011, Part 1

Have you realized that it's July already? Well, just from looking out of the window, you might think it's October already, and we completely skipped summer. But actually, it's July 3rd, which means we are done with the first half of the year. Time sure passes fast, huh? It also means that I am half way through my 50 Book Challenge (or 52, I am not very constant on the number). Since I haven't written about my readings since I don't know when, I guess it's time I started catching up, and, as a first step, list the books I have read during the first six months of 2011.

So here it goes: 

1. Kit szerettem? Mit szerettem? by Polcz Alaine
2. Hazaviszlek, jó? by Tóth Krisztina
3. Leányregény by Polcz Alaine
4. Utas és Holdvilág by Szerb Antal
5. Vonalkód by Tóth Krisztina
6. A test angyala by Parti-Nagy Lajos
7. Esti Kornél by Kosztolányi Dezső
8. Párizs fű alatt by Lángh Júlia
9. Egy budai úrilány by Lángh Júlia
10. Kis kiruccanás by Anna Gavalda
11. Szeretném, ha valahol valaki várna rám by Anna Gavalda
12. Túl a Maszat-hegyen by Varró Dániel
13. Committed by Elizabeth Gilbert
14. Reflection on the Bell Jar by Pat McPherson
15. Bitter Fame by Anne Stevenson
16. The Death and Life of Sylvia Plath by Ronald Hayman
17. The Cambridge Introduction to Sylvia Plath by Jo Gill
18. The Feminine Mystique by Betty Friedan (well, half of it. should finish it during summer.)
19. The Silent Woman by Janet Malcolm
20. One Day by David Nicholls
21. Along for the Ride by Sarah Dessen
22. The Truth About Forever by Sarah Dessen
23. The Awakening by Kate Chopin
24. Daisy Miller by Henry James
25. Just Listen by Sarah Dessen
26. The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath (audio book)
27. Something Borrowed by Emily Giffin
28. The Carrie Diaries by Candance Bushnell
29. Szajna-parti kaland by Vaszary János

Currently reading:

• As Always, Julia: Letters of Julia Child and Avis DeVoto (still reading, it's my let-me-read-a-few-pages-until-I-fall-asleep book)
• Franny and Zooey by J.D. Salinger
• This Lullaby by Sarah Dessen 

(Yep, I still like reading multiple books at a time.)

So, as you can see from the list above, I am doing quite well with the challange regarding the number of books. However, I am so so behind with reflecting on them... I have only written about the first four... then days got hectic, and I never had the time to do so. I wish I could promise that I will definitely catch up with the reviews too during summer, but  honestly, I highly doubt I will. If I am in the mood, I might write about a few, the ones that I really loved and really left an imprint in me. I might write a couple of lines about a few of them, or maybe about most of them. The thing is though, that I read the first twelve books four or five months ago, and I may remember the main plot, whether I liked or not, whether it's worth reading or not, but I fail to remember the details, the really important bits, the feelings it awoke in me, the reasons why I loved or did not really like a certain book. In order to give a half decent review I should reread them... some of them I might do in a year or two, but not right now, not just for the sake of a review. So, the point is that I might write about some of them, might not. We will see. I might surprize myself. Or not. Who knows?

Anyway, I am glad I will have quite a lot of free time in the next couple of months, and I can finally start going through and indulge myself in that enormous stack of books I piled up in the previous months. Here is a sample of  what I am planning to read, just to give you a bit of an idea:

• Sisterhood Everlasting by Ann Brashares
• Starter for Ten by David Nicholls
• The Long Way Around by Ewan McGregor and Charlie Boorman
• The Long Way Down By Ewan McGregor and Charlie Boorman
• My Name is Memory by Ann Brashares
• Friday Night Lights by H.G. Bissinger
• A Heartbreaking Work of a Staggering Genius by David Eggers
• Gilmore Girls Companion by A.S. Berman
• Blueeyed Boy by Joanne Harris
• The Shipping News by Annie Proulx
• The Time Traveler's Wife by Audrey Niffenegger
• Coco Chanel by Axel Madsen
• A Room of One's Own by Virginia Woolf
• The Book Thief by Markus Zusak

I will probably take over either Szabó Ervin or the library in Miskolc in a couple of weeks, rip them off with a dozen volumes, then end up reading totally different books. Can hardly wait!

the dog days are over

 

i guess it's high time i gathered myself and finally started writing again. 

on the 22nd i did pass the state exam, and i got a 3. but then afterwards, just as i usually do after the really big moments in life, i felt so disappointed and empty. it's not about the grade itself, though. i could never really care about my grades, i have never been the goodie-two-shoes straight-As student who goes nuts when she gets a B. i simply refuse to be evaluated on a crappy 1 to 5 scale in an educational system where one means i am a total failure and utterly inadequate, and five means i am excellent and rock the world. i mean, seriously? how can we let bloody numbers define our adequacy??? 

nevertheless, it's pretty hard when you are the only fish in the river trying to swim against the tide, when you are surrounded by hundreds and hundreds of overachievers to whom even a four is a disappointment. there isn't too much of a chance to resist the feeling of being an utter disappointment, is there?

so i let the feeling of being a disappointment and being completely inadequate wash over me after the state exam. i rushed home, kinda fell apart, questioned my entire existence and adequacy to succeed in life, saw myself as a total failure, licked my wounds for a few days. and never, not even for a mere second, have i appreciated my finishing university and earning a degree. i guess i am the kinda gal who appreciates only the little things, and never the big ones. maybe i suck at seeing the entire, big picture.

anyway, my point is, that i wasn't disappointed with the grade itself that i got, but my performance. the performance was, indeed, a disappointment & failure. picked crappy topics, got a bitchy opponent to whom no answer was good enough, i froze, i could hardly put proper english sentences together. there were loooong awkward periods of silence during the exam. i could not gather my thoughts, i fell apart, i failed to answer the answers. during one of those long awkward pauses i was actually thinking about just getting up and leaving the entire exam without saying a word. in the next moment i was thinking what a shame it was that i hadn't had my polaroid camera with me, i could have snapped a polaroid photo of the line of people sitting opposite me, looking incredibly bored, clearly bored out of their genius minds, totally wanting to be somewhere else, anywhere but there, examining us retarted bastards, trying to put our hands on a bloody degree. like a crappy ba degree worth any-flippin'-thing. i guess it will take me quite some time to forget those bored, disdainful, haughty, disappointed looks they keept shooting at me. 

then, in the end, they did let me go, with the grade that's the most average of the avarages, and i left feeling the most average i had ever felt. yet, the reason why i felt really bad is because i know i am better than this. i am better than average. i am so much better than what i showed there, that day, during those awful twenty minutes. i know so much more than what came out that day. there was so much left in that should have come out, but never did.

still, life goes on, and i am slowly gathering myself, starting to think about the future, trying to figure out what i should do next. as i got more time to think, quarter-life-panic has hit me again, and i am struggling to decide whether i should study for another two years and earn an ma degree (in case i got accepted), or i should finally start the so-called adult life, find a flat, or at least a room of my own, move out of the dorm, find a proper full-time job, start working and make a living. then, i am also beginning to enjoy my freedom, a tiny bit more every day, and thinking about the things i had to postpone because of this hectic last semester of mine and all that craziness, worrying, and freaking out it entailed. i may even write a nice little long list about what i will do this summer, all the things i have been wanting to do for months but never had the time. i probably won't do half of them, but at least i have the possibility and the opportunity to do so. 

i will stop feeling like a disappointment, pick my self up, dust my self off, and enjoy my summer of freedom. i will go to places, i will see things, i will read and write my heart out. i will blog about whatever pops into my head. i will get creative again. i will take a thousand photos of a hundred sunsets and a hundred sunrises.  i will hit the road and visit my friends here and there in the country. i will roam the streets of budapest day and night. i will bath myself in balmy starry summer nights and crispy dawns. i will paint with waterpaint, i will draw immature childish pictures, use all of my color pencils, and glue things together, decoupage every bare surface i find, and finally make a scrapbook, 'cause i have been putting it off for years, literally. i will lay in the greenest of grasses, read the softest of paperbacks, write with ink colored every single shade of the rainbow, scribble until i fill every single line of the pretty pink pages of my brand new notebook, hop on my bike at the end of the day, ride down to the brink of the village, race the sunset, and try to catch the last colorful beams of the descending sun. take a photo of it. or two. or a thousand.

so let the good times roll. 

(and fuck the hungarian higher education system)