Misadventures in Purple Tights

This is going to be long, and no amount of pictures will make it feel less long. I’ve tried and tried to figure out a shorter, punchier way to tell it, but to no avail. I thought of posting it in sections over several days, but whatever, read it all if you want, skim it all if you want, skip it all if you want.

I’ll try and condense some of the background story into snippets.

Fact 1: I was in Hungary for 2 very dear friends’ weddings, one on September 25 and one on October 2.

Fact 2: Friend 2 (Lídia)’s wedding reception/dinner was on October 2nd from 8 pm till 4 am.

Fact 3: My flight back to America was leaving October 3rd at 7 am.

Fact 4: It was determined that I should leave from Lídia and Gergö’s dinner for the airport.

Fact 5: Gergö’s apartment was very close (walking distance) to the place where they were having the dinner.

Fact 6: I was staying at Friend 1 (Krisztina)’s apartment while she and Balazs were on their honeymoon.

Fact 7: I’d been using an old phone of Krisztina’s dad’s.

Fact 8: I had to, upon departing Krisztina’s for Lídia’s, leave her dad’s phone and drop her keys in the mailbox, which once you drop in you can’t get back out.

Fact 9: There was to be an interval of undetermined time in which I would be phoneless and keyless.

There are still quite a few facts to go, but I thought I’d do a little fact intermission with one of my fav pics from my first week with Krisztina. This was during one of her dress fittings, and she was on the phone with Balazs.

Here’s is another pic to show you what I did for almost 2 weeks solid, besides tying bows with tulle and ivy.

Coffee . . . lots of delicious coffee in marvelous European coffee houses.

Back to the facts . . .

Fact 10: I had 3 HUGE pieces of luggage, HUGE (I was bringing home the last of my stuff that’s been in Hungary since I left in 2004), plus a camera bag, plus a purse.

Here’s a pic of all the books that didn’t make the cut and got passed on to Lídia’s library (which is probably one of the very, VERY few places I would be willing to pass them on to—a fellow bibliophile).

Fact 11: I was wearing a very short dress. (Work was CRAZY before leaving for Hungary so I bought my dress for Lídia’s wedding in such haste that I didn’t really assess its length.)

Fact 12: I was wearing very bright pink-purple tights.

Fact 13: I was wearing shoes that were a tad too big for me. (I can’t find shoes in America that fit me, so my shoes are typically a bit too tight or a bit too big.)

Fact 14: I had to be at Gergö’s appt. between 7 and 7:20 pm, from there we would leave for the dinner.

Fact 15: A taxi had been arranged to pick me up at Krisztina’s at 6:30 pm and it was supposed to take about 30 min to get To Gergö’s (traffic can be insane.)

Fact 16: Gergö lives on one of the main walking streets, meaning cars can’t go on it—it’s full of gorgeous architecture, street vendors, and tourists—meaning, I couldn’t get dropped off, with my bags, at his doorstep (this will be important).

Before we get to that here’s a pic of Lídia and her dad at the wedding, so beautiful, even if I didn’t understand a word.

So I was majorly anxious leaving Krisztina’s appt with all my stuff, because of the whole dropping in of keys and leaving behind of phone—it had a strong element of finality to it, point of no return and all that jazz. So I checked and double checked my stuff. Passport, yes. Tickets, yes. Heart medicine, yes. Xanax, yes. Three bags: first, oversized, and weighing 50 lbs (23 kilos); second normal size but still weighing 50 lbs; and third, carryon, packed full to 40 lbs (18 kilos), YES.

In my anxiety at the prospect of how many hours I was about to be up and the maneuvering of bags, etc., I decided to go ahead and start taking my stuff down early. I very inelegantly hauled my bags into the little room where the mailboxes are. It’s still in the building, next to the last door that leads outside. I looked, assessed, felt confident, and dropped the keys in the mailbox. Then I started hauling out bags 1 and 2. As I lugged bag 2 out, I let the door close behind me. If you’ve ever lived in Europe or probably any apartment building that requires a key to get in, you can guess my mistake and the wham with which my heart hit the bottom of my rib cage. My last, and hugest, bag was still inside, with the keys irretrievable in the mailbox. I muttered several inappropriate, yet so appropriate, words. I had no idea what to do, and just stood staring at all the Hungarian names on the buzzer that I could buzz and then in a language they wouldn’t understand try and convince them that they should let me into the building. Then I heard the elevator start in the building and someone came down and I hand motioned my predicament to them. They looked at me blankly but let me get my bag.

Fact 17: The taxi was there early, so we left early.

Fact 18: Instead of taking 30 minutes it took 10.

Fact 19: I arrived at the street at 6:30 pm.

Fact 20: Taxi guy unloaded my bags and zoomed away.

Fact 21: It’s just a bit of a walk to Gergö’s door.

So there I am on this street:

With this luggage:

In a really short dress and shoes that are too big (which there is no picture of). I stood there irresolutely for a bit, because there was literally NO way I could get down the street.

Fact 22: If you leave anything unattended, it will be stolen. If you attend it, it could still be stolen.

So all I knew to do was drag 2 bags 2 inches, go back, drag the 3rd 2 inches, and so on and so forth, ad nauseum. This, as you can imagine, was getting me nowhere. So I stopped again and just stood utterly uncertain of how to proceed.

Fact 23: No one passing me offered to help.

I finally realized I could strap the smaller-huge bag, to the medium-huge bag, but as they were all at their max weight and I was in a really short dress, it was very hard to finagle. After much awkward struggling and after probably flashing who knows what to who knows who, I got the bags strapped together.

So then I started pushing one huge bag in front of me and pulling the double decker behind me down the street. They were veering all over the place and the double one kept toppling over. People were having to move out of my way because I couldn't control the veering.

I wasn’t exactly sure where the apartment was, I’d only been outside of it once, so I of course passed it. In my effort to get turned back around, I was standing about 1 foot from a vendor guy who was watching me as in mid turn, while trying to guide the turn with my foot, my shoe flew off and my bags completely turned over. As I was trying to get everything righted and my shoe back on he said “Can I help you?”

Me: Well I’m just going to that door right there.
Him: But do you need help getting the bags up.
Me: No, my friends are there so they can help.
Him: You need to be careful, that bag is unzipped.

I then, again, in my short, short dress tried to get the zipper zipped. I finally struggled my way over to the door and realized I was 20 minutes early. They said they’d be making it back to the apartment around 7 pm, but I went ahead and hit the buzzer to their apartment, but no one answered. So I set up all my bags, in my short skirt and blazing purple tights, and waited. The vendor guy came back over.

Him: No one home?
Me: No. But they should be here by 7.

He then told me some really long story about how he bought his watch off some Muslim guy in Spain, and how it’s always slow but works decently well.

Me: (awkward laugh)
Him: What are you doing? You’re all dressed up, with all these bags.
Me: Yea, my friends got married and I’m going to their party and then after that, the airport.
Him: You got married to your boyfriend and are moving in?
Me: No, my friend, a girl, married her boyfriend.
Him: They are American?
Me (looking at clock tower; isn’t it 7 yet): No.

Here’s a pic of the clock tower:

Him: Well, would you join me for a drink? (there was a little outdoor restaurant directly opposite us)
Me: No thanks, they should be here ANY minute.

He went to drink and watch me, and I went back to trying not to look so conspicuous in my short dress, purple tights, and massive amounts of luggage.

Fact 24: I was standing on the step, slightly above my luggage.

Two sets of boys walked by and openly gawked at me. And by gawk, I mean intake of air, mouth hanging open, gawk.

Fact 25: I jumped off the step and hid behind my luggage.

The first set came back a bit later but I gave them the most withering of stares and they walked, chagrined, on by.

The vendor guy, as the minutes ticked by and my friends still didn’t appear, came back:
Him: Are you sure you won’t have a drink? You’ll be right there; you’ll definitely be able to see them.
Me (at now 7:15): No thanks, really, any minute they’ll be here.

Fact 26: My bags are old and well traveled, meaning they have holes and worn places.

As the vendor guy went and sat back down to watch, a very tiny little man from Spain walked up to me, pointed at my bags, and said, “How much?” I started, and trying not to laugh, said, “sorry, they aren’t for sale.” He shrugged and rambled off.

By this time it was after 7:20 (which is when we were supposed to leave for the dinner). I got to thinking, what if they are here and I just buzzed the wrong apartment earlier. I didn’t want to buzz again while the vendor guy was watching me because I thought, if they don’t answer, he’ll be back over trying to get me to have a drink with him. So I watched him closely and as soon as he got up and went into the restaurant, I high-tailed it over to the buzzer and buzzed, and LÍDIA ANSWERED. I was like, “WHAT?!!”

She sent Gergö down to help me get the bags, but before he got there a guy was coming out of the building and opened the door for me and I started trying to haul my bags in, and of course my shoe, AGAIN, went flying in the process. But I made it in.

Me: Sorry I’m late.
Lídia: We were beginning to wonder.
Me: Yea, I’ve been downstairs for the last 40 minutes. I lost my shoe several times, was asked by someone if he could buy me a drink, and nearly sold my luggage to a man from Spain.

The rest of the evening was far less bizarre and much more beautiful. I haven’t edited any of my pics of Lídia’s dinner, except this one, which I really like. (After midnight, Hungarian brides can change into a new dress, hence her black dress.)

A Smattering of Favorite Moments

I jumped out of an airplane for my 30th birthday. This was an experience, make no mistake, especially since I’m completely phobic about flying. How then do I fly all over you ask? Simple. XANAX! Anyway I was just Facebook chatting with an old high school friend (shout out Jimmy). I was saying that as I exited the plane I thought “this was not a good idea.” And he said, “yea, but I bet you count it as one of your best moments.” Which got me thinking . . . I’ve had such a spectacular life. I mean really! I have a gorgeous family and the most amazing friends that I think anyone has ever had, and I’m not trying to be hyperbolic, it's really true.

I started thinking "what do I count as my greatest moments," and this is what started popping into my head:

Making Minnie Driver uncomfortable at a play in London. (I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, Bryan, when you said it was her!) – 2000

Successfully saddling a horse (thank you Rachel!!). –2009

Playing a British version of Monopoly with the Nigerians we were staying with in Logos, Nigeria (that was the point we finally looked at each other and thought, “oh, we all are the same here,” up to that moment we had been eyeing each other uncertainly). –1995

FINALLY hearing my name called at graduation [from Etövös Loránd in Hungary] (I wasn’t sure until I heard it if they were really going to let me graduate) after barely surviving 16 linguistics classes, the writing of a master’s thesis, and that little business of extortion the secretary to the foreign students pulled on me at the LAST minute. –2002

Thinking and crying, "well, I'll never graduate since they want me to pay them a bribe" (to get them to accept all my general credits and to not have to take a foreign language exam, which for the entire 4 years I was there, every semester they had said they would accept and that I didn't have to take) and then hearing my dad on the phone say, "How much? I'm putting it in your account." –2002

Unexpectedly coming upon Anne Brontë’s grave with Jen while roaming around the Yorkshire Dales (it would have been even more sublime if it had been Charlotte’s grave—but I’m not complaining, much). –2000

Landing in Europe for the first time, granted it was only a layover in Brussels on the way to Africa, but still it was Europe and I was there. –1995

Singing, completely abandondly, with Jeni, Julie, and Karen, while Karen's parents played dulcimers. –2005

Being hopelessly lost on the streets of Venice—that’s seriously Magical! –2005

At a birthday party for a Hungarian friend, looking around, and realizing I was the only American among Hungarians, Nigerians, Cypriots, South Africans, and Australians. (kind of a sequel to the monopoly one. I absolutely love when tons of cultures all come together and form a new community!) –hmmm 2003, maybe

Meeting Alida, Jason, and Andi at the train station, as they passed through Budapest, to pass off a video and then being convinced (correction: dared!) by Alida and Andi to jump on the train (I was moneyless, phoneless, id-less), skip class the next day, and go back to Miskolc (2 hours away) to watch the Sting: Behind the Music tape Jason’s parents had just sent them. (It’s a very dangerous feeling [the next day-riding back] to be in a foreign land, where your ability to communicate is basically nil, riding a train without anything to help you should you miss your stop.) –hmmm, 2000 or 2001

Landing in Australia the first time and feeling that overwhelming sense of camaraderie from everyone I met. We were all on the same team, I didn't know what we were playing, life perhaps, but we were winning. –2005

Trying, with Julie, to read a Midsummer Night’s Dream with British accents by the River Avon in Stratford Upon Avon, laughing hysterically, and switching to southern accents. “Ill met by moonlight fair Titania.” “What, jealous Oberon?” –1995

At the opera house in Hungary watching a completely inexplicable opera by Wagner, while Jen “translated” the German for me. Oh did the other boxes cast us disapproving glances! It was the entrance of the dinosaur while the Klingons in big boots were belting out their song that really pushed things over the top. –1999, maybe

Standing at the rail of the boat with Katrina on the way from Athens to Kos as we prayed over our ouzo bottle containing our pact, and then tossing it out into the Agean Sea (not anywhere near enough of our pact has come to pass, but it was a marvelous moment). –2004

Hiking up to the top of that “mountain” in Norway with Katrina and Stian, and cooking out on the little grill Stian had lugged up there, while listening to the tinkling of the bells on the sheep that were even higher up. –2004

Going in the back door, and bypassing all the security, at Versailles with Alida and Ildi. (the memory of you guys flashing your entrance passes at the other tourist who was trying to get out is CLASSIC). –1998

Sitting outside in Newcastle with Katrina and Stian drinking mint tea from her tea set from Jordan and enjoying other Jordanian treats, and talking and talking. –2009

Sitting, exhausted, in the marble, chandelier decorated McDonalds in Budapest after bussing back from Romania, while Edo and Krisztina got our food. When they came, laughing, back to the table, I was so keenly aware of how much I loved my life at that moment. –2003

The way Krisztina would plop down on my bed, very late at night, as I would be trying to fall asleep, in spite of my constant insomnia, and say, “Wait, don’t go to sleep yet, we haven’t even chatted. What happened today?”

Belly lauging with Jen and Lídia in the tiny back portion of the school café that was semi smoke free.

Thirsty Thursdays with Rachel and Michelle.

Riding horses with my dad.

Taco Casa stops on the way to SawGrass.

The many delightful cups of coffee and pastries with Alida, Andi, Ildi, and Jen.

Hearing all the latest fascinating things Jen, Heather, and Katrina have discovered.

All the moments involving twinkly fairy lights.

All the glorious dance floor, backyard, lounge room dancing that has been danced around the world.

Being overwhelmed to the point of tears when I was little over how lucky I was to have such a great family. I couldn't figure out what I had done to deserve that from God.

Fifteen billion little, seemingly inconsequential moments when, surrounded by brilliant family-friends and/or brilliant scenery, I thought, “I’m really happy right now.”

This doesn’t even come close to all the great moments, which means, basically, I’ve been the luckiest girl to ever live. It’s good to remember that, because I may also be the most spoiled girl to ever live, meaning I often forget my luckiest girl status.

Australia, how I love thee...

I'm in Australia (Newcastle to be specific; lower right-hand side).

I'm really wishing I had one of my euphoria pills, and that I didn't possess any of the scruples that would prevent me from using it simply for it's side effects. (In case you haven't read my April 14 and 15 post, I'm not a total drug head; there is a completely innocent explanation.) My longing for said euphoria pill has nothing to do with a lack of euphoria; I'm more naturally euphoric than I have been in years . . . well, probably since the last time I was in Australia (summer 2005). I really just want that marvellously prolific-writing side effect the pill induced, because I’m chock full of thoughts and impressions and experiences, but not the focus or motivation to get them out.

I absolutely love Australia and for so many reasons. They get all jumbled in my head and trip and tangle up in each other when I try to think them out. I never use to really think that much about Australia. England was always my obsession. (And still is to a great degree), but Australia completely surprised and enchanted me the first time I came.

It's so familiar in many ways. While we aren't the same culture, we are more alike than not, and the differences are fascinating and fun. It fools you by making you feel settled in and on familiar ground, and then it totally surprises you with how unique it is. I love that. Each morning I get woken up by magpies with their fascinating calls. The trees, many of which we don't have in the Northern hemisphere, are full of parrots. Parrots! Like the serious kind. The red and blue headed kind. There's a pair that whistle and gibberish to each other each morning outside my window.

Flocks of cockatoos fly over, and there have been two black cockatoos, which are huge, sitting up in Katrina's tree breaking off limbs with their beaks. Limbs, not twigs, limbs. When they first flew up on Friday Katrina said, "Do you hear them? Don't they sound prehistoric?" I imagine they sound roughly like what a pterodactyl probably sounded like.

I love it; I love the familiarity, while simultaneously being shocked by how unfamiliar and wild it is. And we aren't even in the outback, just the suburbs, the wild Australian suburbs.

(so the above photos are all stolen, of course. i only just got my luggage this afternoon after waiting for SIX days, but hopefully i can get some real shots soon.)

More Piggy-back Blogging

My very exciting weekend (by Rachel):
LOST
Geiger First United Methodist Church and Riding Horses with New Friends

These are a few of my fav things, all of which took place over the weekend:
1. Spontaneous adventure
2. Land so vast you can get lost in it (seriously, I've always wanted enough land to get lost in)
3. Nature
4. Fried foods

Thanks Rachel!! Life is WAY fun with you!!!

(sidenote: What she didn't relate in her post about breakfast was that I had gotten up early-ish. Her dad and his friend were off turkey hunting and she was still asleep. I assumed they'd have already eaten so I began to rummage for food. There were plenty of very tasty, sugary substances that I would have loved but knew would make me feel awful...then I spied the eggs. There weren't very many of them and I debated and debated. Should I eat them, should I not. What to do?! I thought, "we'll they've probably already eaten so okay, I'll just go ahead and have a few." After about an hour of very merry morning reading and coffee sipping, everyone returned and awoke. Rachel's dad said, "Now we'll have breakfast. Rachel get the eggs." My heart skipped a beat, but they were kind and there were JUST enough eggs to give them a taste. But I think next time I'll go for the Oatmeal Creme Pie!)

Everybody's Doing It

So blogging is everywhere, and while I don't much like writing (its too stressful trying to be witty, brilliant, and good with the words), I feel the need to put out into cyber land the minutiae of my life as well. I can't bare to be left out!

I'm trying to take the equine world by storm. And though I've been taking weekly lessons for over a year now, Sunday showed just how far I still have to go.

I recently moved in with a girl from work, Rachel, and her husband, Jared. It's great to be with fun people again and helpful with the bank balance!

Rachel's parents have this gorgous 2000 acres of land in Tuscaloosa with horses. I've gotten to go out there several times now and it's fabulous! We went this Sunday and took three other people with us. Rachel had me put the saddles, etc. on for two of them (a husband and wife) and then take them out while she got her horse and her cousin's horse ready. It was a bit of a disaster. First, these saddles are totally different from the ones I am used to using. Second, I don't have a clue how to take people out, and, third, its 2000 acres and I'm crazy directionally challenged. So I put their saddles on and said "Rachel you should probably check behind me just for good measure" (she forgot).

We headed out and it was VERY windy so the horses were getting all hyped up, and the guy was a bit uncertain and was pulling on the reigns, which hyped the horse up a bit more, which in turn made his wife's horse skittish. I was on one of the less easy going horses, so I was working hard to keep him relaxed and not join in their hoopla (the only thing I succeeded at).

Their horses kept trying to break into a trot, which can be unsetteling when you haven't actually asked the horse to do it. This produced more pulling and tugging and "whoa-ing". Everyone was dancing around in circles and I kept throwing encouraging tidbits, "Try to relax more." "Loosen up on the reigns." "Relax your butts!" (Horses can feel your anxiety and tension in your derriere). As all this was happening, I noticed the girl's left leg getting farther and farther down the side of her horse and her right leg getting higher and higher. I said, "Is your saddle too lose?" Within seconds she was hanging on to the side! I stopped and tried to help her get down and as she came off, the saddle came with her, still fastened. It slid nearly underneath the horse...It was a fiasco! I couldn't figure out how to unbuckle it because it was at such a crazy angle I couldn't get the clasp to come undone. I finally just undid the other side and it fell to the ground. As I was resaddeling, the horse decided to step on my foot and stay on it, and I had to put all my weight on him to shove him off.

Once we finally got everyone back on I was like "let's just go back to the house and wait for Rachel." On our way the guy's horse got to dancing and turning again and I looked back just in time to see him come off (not fall) and get into a tug of war with the horse on the ground. All I could think was "please God don't let him rear and pummel the guy to death, just let us get back to the house." We did. Rachel fixed everyone's saddles and we went back out and I think a good time was had by all. But the moral of the story is I DO NOT need to be in charge of ANY horse riding expeditions!

The happy part of the ride!