Are or Are Not.

I just forgot a Holiday. Yesterday was a holiday in Hungary, known (now) as the Saint Stephen's day. I say know because back in the Socialist days I believe it was called the "Foundation of the Nation" day or "Foundation of the State" day... or something like that. My knowledge of Hungarian History is FAR WORSE than my knowledge of Costa Rican History, so I'd rather not go into too much detail about this particular holiday, so suffice it to say that in this day Hungarians celebrate the foundation of Hungary as a nation/kingdom/state.

Hungary is quite a particular country in my eyes, as for some reason they tend to rename places, rename holidays or add new ones - maybe remove others - often based on politics. Thus within the lifespan of anyone, a street can change names three times or more. The Lenin Avenue became Elizabeth Avenue - which I believe was the name of the Avenue to being with - then there's Hungaria Avenue I wasn't aware of ten years ago. Most recently (a year ago) the Moskva square - which has hold the name even after the fall of the iron curtain, because that was it's original name to begin with - became the Széll Kálmán square, and the airport, so far called Ferihegy, became the Liszt Ferenc airport.

The particular case of the Széll Kálmán square is the one I'd like to pull forward now. If you've been there some years ago when it still was Moskva square, and then now, you'll realize that nothing has changed. The place is still dirty and swarming with vendors and shady elements that make you grab your purse tighter. It's the exact same thing, just with another name. Not a dime seems to have been invested to improve the square, clean it up a little bit, build it around with benches, place more policemen to make sure shady elements and drunk, high people stay away from bothering others. So what did we earned with the new name? Only a reason to spend money on changing the name of the square in the many tramways, busses and one of the metro lines that touch the place.

The thing with this square is much similar with the case of Customer Service, which I mentioned in the previous post. It has been named Customer Service, then Customer Care, then Customer Experience but it's always the same hell, the same uninterested person reading you a line instead of actually paying attention to your situation and trying to help you. However the square or Customer Service aren't the only ones that pretend that a change of name would make things better without making something effectively to change the situation. People do that too.

One of the most classical cases is marriage. How many times have we seen a couple doing really bad, a couple that shouldn't be together, but then they jump into marriage - say because they've got knowcked up - and pretend that with this change of name (the name of the type of relationship) is enough to make things go better. If Mary and John don't get along, Mary is superficial, spends too much money on clothes and cheats, and John is lazy, addicted to betting online and careless, becoming Mr and Mrs. Smith won't make them change.

Often we try to ignore the bad in our life by changing its name, which is contrary to being positive and trying to see the good in every situation. We would say "40's is the new 20's" instead of simply saying "I'm 40, I feel 40 and you know what? 40 is freaking awesome! You should try it too one day!". We mask things, try to soften them, smooth them, place them in a better light, change their nature with words, while we do nothing -  really nothing - about what bother us. We don't embrace nor we fight. We mask and ignore, and as we do this, we open the door for other, similar cases of name changing and word-masking to happen.

Another case is when someone works in a position and that position gets renamed, but the conditions remain, or - which is worse - responsabilities multiply, but authority and payment remain. Typical cases of this can be seen when a regular coworker at a team suddenly gets the position renamed "junior manager", or goes from "official" to "agent" (these exist in the financial world, and are not related to security or  chasing robbers). These "requalifications" often keep the salary at the same level, but burden the position with responsabilities over a certain project, a service or even a portfolio. the renaming often is an empty price, a fool trick to make people believe that now they are more important, and thus often they can be called on more tasks, can be packed up with more duties, for the same amount of money. Again, like the square things don't improve, and we really get nothing from the name change.

Let's open our eyes, see into the soul of things and voice our opinion. Don't resource to name changes - we don't need them - call things by their name and face them. That's certainly better than accepting a lie and pretend you are okay while you still feel the burn from it, right?

A Break from Daily Philosophy, to some Daily Life

Yesterday's post turned out hard to read, right? For posterity I may go back on it and liven it up, because personally I believe that the topic is quite interesting - you know, talking about immigration, and how nobody can actually say that they've always-always belonged to the place they live in, nor can anyone say that they have a millenary culture that hasn't changed a bit since the begining of times. However the reason for it being so dull and hard to read - I presume - is due to the lack of pictures and my trademark colored text, which I use for highlight. If you have ever wondered what's my system for coloring, if colors and bolds or italics mean something, the answer is "not really". I pick the colors when I open the palette, see what colors I've used and which colors I feel like using. Perhaps normally I tend to used green to mark myself or my personal thoughts, fuchsia for religion or divinity, red for importance of shock, often aggression and violence, dark red for gore and supernatural, and blue for the things I don't like much... though I've used blue also for the things I do like, only for a splash of color. But anyway - I just derailed there - the reason why I didn't do that was because I was blogging from a train, on my way home from Mezőkövesd, where I had accidentally left my mouse (and half my power cord too). Have you tried to use your laptop without a mouse? And get online and blog without a mouse? Some parts are tricky, like I forgot how do you shut down a window or open a new page in your browser, but the rest is simple, only tedious.

Yesterday I went to visit Mama and Papa at Mezőkövesd, but I went without my boyfriend, who has been burried in work up to his eyeballs. So, instead of driving there, I took the train. On my way there I had the mouse and the cord, and so took out the laptop, the mouse and the mobile internet and started drafting up the post without any particular embellishing. Ideas and refining would come later. At Mama's place I then took out the laptop, charged it - I had used it on battery on the train - while we had lunch and then partook in a delicious traditional meal made in a caudron, outside over an open fireplace. The expression in Hungarian is "bográcsozás". It was my first one and it was DELICIOUS! It was basically a thick soup made with pork hoofs and venison, and it tasted like Heaven on Earth.

Inspired by Dragonfly's enthusiasm for photography and her beautiful pictures, I decided to experiment around the garden and took a few (okay, plenty) of pictures myself, from which I'll show you here some.

Waterlily

Flower Alone

Careful Close up under light brise

Flower cluster

Flower field

Household farming.

Families sow their yards to produce their own food.

Then, when I packed my things to go home, the mouse and part of my power cord (the one that's easily replaceable, thanks Hyne) decided to stay there without my conscent. I knew of the mouse the moment I decided to inish my blogging on the train, because I was going to get home quite late (I was arriving at the train station at 10 pm). I new about the cord when I've got home and decided to charge up my laptop. Oh well, after the holidays are over I'll go get myself new ones to have while I go back to Mezőkövesd to get the ones I left there.

Today the day was more calm. It's a Sunday-Monday holiday called Pentecost (also Whitsunday). Don't ask me, don't look at me, I don't really know much about this. Due to this even the stores that open on Sundays were closed, and so will be closed tomorrow too, which means that I'll only get to replace the mouse and the cord on Tuesday. However, by then I might also be able to get some photos printed out.

 I've decided that it's time to continue the embellishing of the apartment, and what better to make the place more lively and more of a home than to hang pictures from the walls? Naturally things are never easy, so I'll have to go over my picture archives and start selecting those I want on the walls. Pictures of us, pictures of the family - though this seems more on the line of "pictures of my family" for there aren't many pictures of my boyfriend's family around - so I'll have plenty to do from here to Tuesday. Then again, not like I can complete many of my repeating tasks from my List of 13 during this time. However, I believe it's fair to let you know that I'm getting ahead with the task of making myself June jewelry. I'm not entirely satisfied with the results yet, and basically because so far I was used to get already made chains for the necklaces, and here I have to make the chain link by link. Also, though I have wire sticks with a stopped on the bottom, there were a few only, so I made my own with bead stoppers, but they have given out sometimes.

For this set I used a picture from a book I've got recently as inspiration, but the one I'm making isn't hitting the mark with me. I guess I still have a lot to learn. :-) But that isn't taking away my desire o continue doing it, but rather make me want to see what else can I do and how can I come closer to the concept I'm looking for.

In beading, one of the biggest limitants are the materials: you don't always get to work with the beads and materials you really want, BUT you can work with anything as long as you get around it and know how to make it work. Beading, in the end is an art part knowledge and part experimenting, and that makes it more rich and more magical. Well, we shall see how this goes on in the future!

Happy Walpurgis Night and Beltane!

Another Pagan Sabbath is around the corner, ready to be celebrated, and with it I prepare to take the message into my heart. The most part of the information you get - from the 101 point of view - talk to you about Beltane, but it wasn't until recently that I learned about Walpurgis Night. Then, given that I'd like to work out another topic for today (or more like a different approach), and yet I wanted to keep my Pagan Calendar updated, I decided to invoke the help of Walpurgis ^_^ for the task. It's late anyway - or late for me, so you'll be probably reading this entry already for Beltane - which is held on May 1st... though I've heard of May 2nd as well. (My trusty Witches' Datebook 2012 - which I of course got because I had to and it has been very useful in my research - places Beltane on the 1st.)

In the Wheel of the Year, Beltane marks the middle of the year, and is opposite to Samhain, which is the New Year of the witches or Pagans. It celebrates the coming of the summer, the begining of the longest days of the year, with hours and hours of light and sun. In Costa Rica you don't feel this all that much though you may notice (if you wake up early enough) that you have an extra 30 minutes of light at dawn and another extra at dusk. In Europe there's no mistaking when you notice that the sun is nowhere close to the horizon at 8 pm, and 4 pm and 7 pm look exactly the same.

For many Beltane is also a much favored celebration because it's about fertility. The courting of the Spring, the shy blooms are over and it's time to get the land and the stock pregnant. Time for sex, fire and passion related thoughts, intentions and activities. However lets take the line of thought we have been following through the other Sabbaths and think about this one as well as part of our life cycle. What is this celebration of fertility? It's a celebration of Labor, and as such, it's not so farfetched to imagine how Beltane and Labor's Day fall on one and the same day (in most countries). One is a celebration of sex and the other a celebration of work, of jobs as a dignified human activity that makes the world possible. It's also a day to celebrate the conquests of Labor, the social and labor guarantees that keep us from expliotion and from working in inhuman, abusive condition. From any angle you see it, it's a celebration - a happy and passionate celebration! - of fertility.

We have planned, prepared and with Beltane we go on the Fields and work them. On these long days, under this hard sun, many peasants worked from first light to last light on the fields, on meager food if any, taking care of the pregnant Mother Earth for from the good completition of her pregnancy all of us depend. From her dark, soft womb is born our bread, from it nurtures our meat. With the very passion of unleashed joy and gayness, we should work our projects, work the fields alotted to us, push ourselves, even if we still don't see the result, even if the impact of our work gets swallowed in an endless land of waying greens and yellows. The harvests will come, the results will always show, and now is the time when we can make the difference. Now is the time when we can give into it everything we have, do our best and try to surpass ourselves, show ourselves that yes, we can and we can go even further. Surprise yourself, impress yourself! Show yourself what are you made of and do the whole 9 and then add the extra mile!

Beltane is where the plans and preparations get in action. It's the time to show the passion, unleash the flame inside our souls.

Today we went to the Velence lake, where a friend of us has a lovely summer house. The place is in one  of the many little villages that ring the lake, and to my surprise, they had a May Tree. (To Sartassa: I guess you were right! Hungarians also celebrate the May Day!) It's not a pole like the May Pole, but rather a long, long, thin stick (probably from a very thin tree), with a few branches on top, which are richly decorated with colorful ribbons. This May Tree is located at a prominent area of the village, such as in front of the city hall or some place like that. Nobody would think that it's a Pagan thing (actually in this place the city hall was in front of the church and there seemed to be no problems with that), but an ancient tradition the village is very proud to keep.

After seeing this, and since my boyfriend repotted our plants, I decided to do my impromptu May Tree from a little stick that had been in one of the pots. (One of the plants we've got was a little gift from a wedding my boyfriend attended, and on the stick was a little paper bird with his name.) I took a few ribbons I had lying around and tied them securely on top of the stick, and then stuck it back in the new pot the plant received.

This is the moment to make things happen, so are you going to make things happen, or will you remain at the drawing desk, with the blueprints of your fabulous life?

Irresponsible Service

Ok, time to denounce something that's pissing me off. Worry not, I'll keep it short, so that my liver doesn't explode in anger. It's upset, UPSET! with the Postal Service. As you may know by now, I've been sending out postcards, letters and even a couple of packages since I've got here. It's only normal, since I have penpals and also a large chunk of my friends live in Costa Rica.

Ever since I've got here I've sent these out to the United States, UK, Austria, Belgium, Malaysia, Germany and Costa Rica. I've got feedback from everywhere that they've got their postcards, their letters and even the small parcels I've sent for birthdays and special care-packages. All but those sent to Costa Rica.

Naturally, as precaution I've filled out forms similar to the one shown here for the parcels, because ALLEGEDLY you can track them down, and know at all times where the parcel is. Yeah right. I don't know how it works in other countries, but at least in Costa Rica and in Hungary, they track the package only INSIDE the country. Once it leaves the country, the parcel enters the Twilight Zone. That wouldn't be much of a problem if the package were received, such as it happened with all the other parcels and letters I've sent out, and which - to my amazement - were received in a week or two, which for me counts as "record time". However, this doesn't happen with Costa Rica, where over 10 postcards, 5 letters and a parcel have been sent since February and none have been received. From this lot, it happens that the parcel I sent has a tracking number. The number is RR214810410HU. This package left Hungary on March 5th, and since then the track is lost. From the other side the Costa Rican Postal Service simply pretends the parcel has never arrived to the country.

It's quite interesting because I know for a fact that the parcel was correctly addressed, so it's not possible to imagine that the package was mistakenly sent to Abu-Dabi or any other place. It was addressed to Costa Rica, to an address I know like the back of my hand. Still, the Costa Rican Post Service, Cortel, feings ignorance, though the parcel left to Costa Rica over six weeks ago. Through the Hungarian Postal Service we've sent to Costa Rica a formal request about the destiny of the package, whether it has been delievered, lost or returned, but they have failed to answer so far, something unheard of.

So, you pay EXTRA money to have some SECURITY about the things you send by the Postal Service, and STILL, it's a bogus? Nobody can tell me where the parcel is, and to top it all, there are no actual, real means to shake up the IRRESPONSIBLE counterparts from their comfortable position of not doung their job and still charging for it.

This should be stopped.

A Trip To A Loved Castle

The warmth is coming slowly still, and though I'm wearing a lighter jacket, I still wear more layers of clothes than I used to in Costa Rica. This still didn't keep me today at home - though I could have spent a day here picking up my recently ordered books (which take a bit more to arrive here than what would take Amazon.com to send me my books to Miami) - I decided to visit one of my old favorites: Empress Sissi's Gödöllő Royal Palace.

I didn't make much pictures, though I saw many, many beautiful things. The royal palace was marvelous as usual, but eerie as I was the only visitor, and the doors were closed, everything was so silent and even the cafeteria and the Gift shop were closed. It gave me the strange feeling of being a ghost in an ancient house, almost as if the Empress of her family, or anyone from her court could come running through the doors and though not see me, be scared by my presence there. The renovations have been going and teams of restaurators have been working hard on the palace, which was evident as I roamed the hallways and discovered new rooms open and more history to be shared.

This time around, I was deeply mesmerized by the trip itself. I took the HÉV, which is a kind of intercity train (something between a tramway and a train). From the window I watched the scenery slip away, run fast, and though my eye could catch the details, the lens of my camera couldn't. In this indecision dance Spring is making, I saw the forests I love so much - forest so different from what you seen in the tropical latitudes of the planet - still naked and ashen. Trees long and thin like the jeans clad legs of young girls stood up from a sickly pale soil that always shrinks my heart and make me painfully think about centuries of agriculture running the land anemic. Among those trees here and there some golden dry leaves drappes around the trunks looking much like gold flakes, such as the kind you find in some lesser wines.

The HÉV was too fast for my camera, but my eyes feasted on the floating golden flakes that brought a touch of patina, of Art Nouveau color to the endless lands of gray, think trunks and naked branches in wait for Persephone to step out of Hades and make the world merry and alive.

I carried to this trip a letter from my friend Trish, and read it evoking some of the most romantic notions of train traveling. Waring jeans and secluded from the world just with my music, staring out the window of a train and letting my thoughts linger, then breaking myself from the Sun setting mysterious and chilly behind the naked trees, filtering through a wire wrought branch lace and making the afternoon perfect, while my dark, chocolate eyes fall upon the envelop tucked in my bag, pull it out and allow myself to be absorbed by the world conjured by the letter of my friend.

Yes, life can be poetic, romantic and incredible, if we take the time to make it so.

Waiting Times

One of the most common complains you get from users, customers and people in general, is about the "quality" of the service and a big part of it is related to the waiting time. Somehow no matter hoy much the seller or the clerk smiles at you or how speedily they try to help your with your request, the impression is always the same: the service sucks. And the service sucks because "in other countries" they do it much more pleasantly and much faster. The statistics curiously are never there, but the general argument to hold up this impression is "in other countries is not like this".

After unsuccessfully trying to revive my mobile line yesterday, today I went to the place where the service could be restored - so I was told. It was a nice, late winter day, kinda chilly but pretty and shiny, so I merrily went to the company's store only to find out that the service couldn't be fixed because my ID was expired. Say what?? Yes, my old, handwritten, notebook-like ID was expired. The clerk asked for my Driving License... but I only had my Costa Rican one with me, so that didn't work. A bit disheartened, I went to solve the issue, at loss about where should I go. So without a mobile phone line, I actually had to hunt down a payphone - thanks Hyne for small favors! - and called my boyfriend to tell him "the situation". After that I headed home, looked up the place I should go (that depends on which district are you inscribed, so the one my boyfriend knows isn't good for me, for I'm in a different district), and my aunt actually helped me with that. So we went to the "official documents' office" where I was received immediately - didn't even had time to take off my coat! - and a very nice, sweet guy asked me for my DL or my passport - I gave him this last one - and he quickly helped me fill the form to request my new ID. Thanks Hyne I've got a new picture, because I hated my last ID's picture. This next one isn't that good either, but it's an improvement considering the last one!

The guy then told me that my ID would be ready in 30 days. 30 days??? In Costa Rica I get my new ID or driving license in 3 minutes! I've got my brand new and first "Official Residence Card" (in the old ID's there were pages where such data was included. Now that the notebooks are gone, there's an ID card and an "official address card"). He told me that I could use meanwhile my Hungarian passport as official ID, until my actual ID is done. I didn't bother much about it, but it did made me smile how people at Costa Rica bitch about the waiting you have to do at the Civil Registry, and though I was served right away in here - probably because it was a low traffic hour - I'll have to wait far more than anyone in Costa Rica for my plastic.

Well, once this was done, we went back to fix my phone situation. Now, let me tell you in advace, that my operator is a private operator, not a State owned one. So, we went there, got called right away, by the same nice guy, and he started fixing my situation. As it happens, the fixing shouldn't have to be arranged directly though them, but through a series of e-mails and online forms and requests taking many days, but just as a favor - and because he knew someone in there - my situation was fixed there. I also wanted my own mobile Internet - which I got, and guess what? These two things took an hour of my life. Yes, one hour. The guy was really nice, and I guess that seeing how much time it was taking him to do all the TWO things I asked from him, he started telling me the story of his life in a half-flirtatious way (so salesman like!), and I took on the hint and asked him all kinds of telecommunications' questions, which amazed him and gave him the chance to ask how come I knew that, so I would talk and he could concentrate on his slow system while keeping me entertained (Rule #1 to keep a customer happy: make it all about the customer!).

I didn't mind, but it was funny again to compare Costa Rica and Hungary, and how people actually complain for the activating of a phoneline taking over 20 minutes.

People, procedures take time, and sometimes companies find that giving the best and fastest computers to their CEO's and their staff is a much better and justified move than giving it to Customer Service, who by rule always inherit the computers that have filtered down through the company and get discarded by the last link of the back office. Procedures are also way to ensure the reliability of a client, and they depend on the experience of the company with problematic clients, as well as the experience of the country in general. If in your country you've a culture that celebrates getting away with murder and consider "smart" people who manage to walk away without paying, then yes, get ready to face long insurances and procedures to get something where you could walk off without paying.

Have you ever considered that your Customer Service is also a result of the type of culture you help to creat? Have you considered that your attitude and also your attitude towards work, your responsabilities and those of others, also help to mold the type of Customer Service and the type of service you get? After all, it's people from the same culture you belong to, the one's serving you. Have you thought that instead of expecting THEM to change and suit your need, you could do the changing and adapt to the situation?

Thing is that everybody complain, but if you where to actually compare the services between countries, you would find that actually it isn't true that you have the worst service in the planet, and nor is it true that there's a place where the service is happy and swift and like a walk in Paradise. Something always annoy people because people are often predisposed to get annoyed.

Of course, when examples like this are shown up, then the usual rebuke is "well, other countries, because those are exceptions", which is fun, because they either can't come up with a country where things are the way they say they are, or the witness was a friend or family member of them, or you name it. Even if it was them, the case isn't clear and you are there with the feeling that something isn't right. And something isn't right.

It's time for us to realize that the Customer Service depends on the customer. We must realize that in order to make a transaction like this pleasant, also WE have to be pleasant. Sorry, the clerk isn't there to make you smile and serve you some coffee, and you won't lose an arm if you smile first and remain pleasant and understanding. So next time, when you have to make yet another endless queue, please make the effort and be a pleasant customer, be nice, smile, be understanding. Be all you want the clerk or Customer Service attendant to be, and you may be surprised at the kind of lovely service you can get!

Fit

Some time ago I bought for myself a fitbit ultra, which is this thingie that counts your steps, and how many calories have you burned and stuff like that. Since my friend Dragonfly-cr started running and wearing one of these to measure her performance, I was pondering getting myself one of those, basically to start running too. I wasn't planning on running here, though, as if I do I would mainly be running away from robbers and kidnappers (my neighbourhood has proved that safe...), but I do was planning on starting to run in Hungary, preferable at the Margit Island, which has a lovely running path made of something that's soft and feels cool. This things are called "pedometers" or something like that. Checking them on the Internet wasn't all that easy, mind you, as there were features I didn't get, and none of the mentioned things were clear about whether you need something else to go with them. Also, with prices running from $20 to $200 there was no way I could pick safely something that was really good and what I needed.

Luckily when boyfriend and I were flying back from Dominican Republic, I read on the plane's magazine - Destinos - (we went on Taca) about the fitbit. A page in two languages dedicated to explaining shortly this device made me decide that this is the one I'll get, and so I did (specially because I could get it in plum, not necesarity in blueberry, as you know that blue and I don't get along very well). The fitbit came with an internet page where you can track your progress and keep your statistics. Calories consumed, calories burned, activity, mood, and so on. A real delight for someone so into keeping track and tabs like me (who have been keeping tabs on my weight, not like it changes and not like I would do a thing to change it!), however... my Hyne if this is a hard thing to get by! The fitbit is all nice and cute, but it doesn't seem to be accurate. I climb 15 flight everyday to get to the office, and it says I climb 22. I end up climbing from 29 to 44 and the counter says 75 to 88. I walk distance of five meters and it claims I've taken 500 steps. What am I? A geisha??

The page also gives you an account on the calories you have eaten, for which you log every single food you eat. It's nice and cool, and rolls out a list from where you pick what did you have, and that's okay, and all, but it gets me thinking, that getting fit isn't as easy as one would think. With a thingie like this, it's not only a matter of will, it's a matter of patience. Does this really motivate? And in general, if you have a sendentary life like mine, how further do you get with a program that keeps you in front of your computer logging in your weight and every single snack bar you chew?

My goal isn't to lose weight - what for? I'm fine the way I am - but to keep myself healthy, move and keep my body well. That's why I go to yoga classes too, so is a dashboard to work with keeping me from effectively be more active or is really helping me, thoughI don't know that yet?

2010 is off, 2011 is coming!

Another year is slowly going by, and that means late parties, fireworks and more booze than what you would normally push down your throat - whatever that measure is for you. A new set of dues and debts - damned credit cards - and new purposes, not like the ones you've made the previous year actually got done. Here and there some people do manage to complete them, so swear they do, but honestly the only person in the planet I believe that from is Dragonfly. Damned, that girl keeps to the program like nobody I've ever seen.

Some people who hasn't taken the time to greet you all year, come and hug you and toast with you and swear up and down how you are their most beloved friends, how much they think of you, and to prove so they pull up all kinds of outdated facts about you. As you about your family, your significant other - whose name they seem to remember better than you do, and even add their profession or favorite hobbie - and ask you about your job - remember your boss' name or your department or company, while smiling wide and making big promises and making you return them about getting together more often because blah, blah, blah. You smile wide enough to shrink your eyes, rise your glass and think "why on the fucking Earth would I want to see you more often when suffering you on New Year's Eve is punishment enough?".

There's of course, the people you only see in these occasions and you can't even understand why on Earth you don't see them any often. Well, usually that's my case with my best friend Alix, whom I see usually only on New Year, and only when I'm in Costa Rica... which is nearly never. Lately, thanks Hyne, we started meeting more and more often, which is good. =D I totally love her and her family, and I celebrated with them Halloween this year and we carved together our first pumpkin. It was freaking awesome!

These year brought a few unpleasant things to my plate, like the hassle with the coat, the trobles with the trip, the ripping of the luggage, losing of things due to airport looting. It may have brought some other unpleasant things - yeah, like the freaking building we are working in now - but those fade in importance. This year has certainly brought me a lot of good. I managed to lower my debts (thought there might be a surge in the debts due to the incidents of this trip), still, it's far more undercontrol than it has been in a while. I traveled again, got to Hungary quite on schedule, saw my boyfriend and family, had an EXCELENT Christmas, saw my adorable, perfect Father-in-Law, who blew me off my feet by giving me a book of Cicero, which simply got me FLYING! I totally, totally love this man. Really, like obsessed.

Also got to Vienna, where I met with my dear and beloved friend, a penpal of mine whom I love, and went for a coffee, had a great chat with her, then went to a pub, an amazing Irish Pub, secretly tucked away in a corner of Vienna, and revealed a side of me she never thought it was there: I ordered lager, and downed the whole mug. Hell, it was so delicious!!!! She also introduced me to my new Precious Posession: erasable pens. I think by now I've cleared three stores. The cashier ladies always widen their eyes when I dump the pens before them. I guess they are trying to come up with a plausible explanation, and the only thing they can come up with is "some people is crazy". Well, those pens are the end of my scratched out letters, so yes, I'm clearing all inventories!

This year I also ditched my mother-in-law's - also known as The Hag - Christmas get-together. So, let me get you on the line with this. This is Christmas-in-three-acts.

Act Two: The Father-in-Law

As planned, we went over to his place for lunch the 25th. To say that he was adorable, perfect and beautiful would be a crass understatement. His cooking was wonderful, and he offered me even some sort of sweet liquer for starting. He smiled at me, talked to me, showed interest and even called my judgement in a small dispute with my boyfriend over a yellow umbrella, clearly expecting me to take his side. I did. =D. He gave me as present a book by Cicero, as I mentioned earlier "De Finibus Bonorum et Malorum". We left him before his other son and his family arrived. I was told it was so that I didn't have to suffer through their yearly Brady Bunch presentation. I was sorry I couldn't see the orphans, but my brother-in-law and his unfortunate-looking wife are not really the type you can suffer calmly, mainly due to their overwhelming fake attitude.

Act Three: The Mother-in-Law

As I declared ever since the middle of the year, I ditched the the appointment. My boyfriend was less-than-happy with this but I had sacrificed too many hours of my life for his sake at this mother's annoying get-togethers and I wasn't certainly going to sit through yet another utterly obnoxious lunch, peppered with all kinds of "niceties" pointed at me, specially since my alotted patience had been all used up, and I was going to Federer back every single ball launched on my general direction, and trust me, I have ammo, all the way from "just because I don't have people of my generation burried at Luxor or the Pyramides, it doesn't mean I don't know what should I see in Egypt" to "it's nice you consider my father a materialistic man who didn't taught his children well, when you have to underachieving sons, one of whom doesn't even know what he wants and is totally pussywhipped by you and his wife". The warrior in me really wanted to go and smack her with a few remarks like "well, I know you find pleasure only in food, as your life is so empty, but I don't need to stuff myself with the shit you cook to feel achieved", but the Wiser in me decided that it was better if I didn't let my temper flare, that nothing truly profitable would come of it, so we took the "Coward Way". I had an amazing time, having lunch with my family, and then having the appartment all for myself, taking care of all the things I just love to do.

Kari came back sullen, silent, visibly upset. He hid the presents he got, and I noticed there were none for me. Good. That meant that I didn't have to sneak out and walk a few miles looking for a trash can far away enough to dispose of the stuff... like I had to do with last year's shit.

He said nothing, but this morning I submitted him to questioning, and he opened up. The truth was revealed. Visibly upset, he told me how she and miy brother-in-law had read my blog (the Hungarian one, so they don't know the whole extent of it), and found out what I wrote about them (which is mild compared with what I think of them and what I've written in my journal). Upset they decided I hated her, and thus she doesn't want to see me or speak to me ever again. My moronic, brain dead brother-in-law (whose knowledge in economics reduces to say "I studied economics, got a diploma, therefore I am an economist") decided to side with his mother in is dislike of me (I'm totally thorn and have no idea how will I go on after such a sensible blow to my social life) specially after Christmas, where I failed to come to the get-together. Thus, since they think I hate her - this believe fortified by my ditching their lunch-thing - , they decided that none of them want to ever talk to me (which puts in a new light the whole thing about the Christmas at my father-in-law's), don't ever want to see me and therefore will never again invite me over. When telling me this, Kari was looking at me like "it's all your fault! You shouldn't have written those things nor express your hatred towards them".

Well, 1. I wouldn't have anything to write if they would have been nice to me, so they are responsible for what they read in it, 2. I didn't make them read it, and 3. I'll speak my mind whenever and wherever I want. I was born free and my hability to express myself and my feelings makes me who I am. If someone doesn't like it, they can fuck it.

However, as Kari told me, I had to make hard efforts to remain expressionless. A huge smile was tugging at my mouth. I was free! No more excuses, no more fears from Kari that the Hag would realize that I hate her guts. It's all out and I'm FREE!!!

Blogs are a blessing.

Vienna, 2010

Before you ask, yes I have made pictures, even a picture with a good friend and penpal of mine - we look so great! - but what I forgot to bring with myself is, well, the cabel to connect my phone and my netbook. This also means, sadly, that my phone is struggling with a very feeble battery life. Damned. And here I really thought I had packed everything I need. Oh well, at least I packed up the cords for the netbook, the converting cube (because I've an American plugging end on the cord and I need to fit it into an European plug), and the netbook and mouse. So I'm able to keep communicating with the rest of the planet.

A week of my holidays has gone by, and honestly I've done little, written even less, mainly concerned with the whole baggage thing. Normally I would have a plan - you know me - to which I would stick and still have loads of fun, but when you travel with family, well, their things can trample your plans.

Christmas came and was gone, and I successfully ditched the Hag and her Christmas-Thing. I wouldn't call it "lunch" when it lasts all day, right? My boyfriend couldn't ditch it, though. He came back at 19:30 h. Yep, my thoughts exactly: I wouldn't have come back from that Hag-marathon alive... or sane.

Yesterday, according to the plan (because we had reservations) we came to Vienna, the whole lot of us. We are set in my favorite hotel of town, with the adorable staff, always so helpful and ready. Hell, you just want to stay here forever! Not much could be done yesterday, after all, from an early waking to a 3 hour train trip with two children, a big family wants nothing but lay down a bit. I myself, went to meet my dear friend, with whom we had coffee at our favorite coffeeplace in town, and then went to this pub - Irish pub -  she knows, where after an awesome coffee with Bailey's I had a mug of lager. One freaking big mug of absolutely delicious lager. I walked out of there by half past ten... at night, all happy and woohoo.

My friend was surprised. She said she had never pictured me like a beer drinker. My humor is much drier in person - she said, and probably she's absolutely right, for in person I honestly hardly open up as much as in paper - but beer? Big mug of beer? Would have never imagined that.

Honestly, I really don't come over like a beer drinker?

And On These Fridays of Ours

And so a work week has gone by, this one for my colleagues at the Babel Tower and mine, cut shorter thanks to a blown up breaker, which killed the power in the whole builiding, taking away also the air conditioning - oh, sorry, the Climatization System - and the water, which means not only no water to drink, but no use of the facilities. Things came out quite interestingly, as the power was gone for a while, we went to have lunch outside the builing, as evidently the diner wasn't working, when we were called through our friends and coworkers to return to the building to get our stuff because it had to be evacuated. Holy Cow! How come? No questions asked, just run because the emergency lights at the emergency stairs holds up two more hours. No it didn't.

It was Primal Chaos in there. Lights out, doors at every floor open to let in air and light, and people using the same staircases to go up and down, hardly any order to use them, as people met in both ways and had to dance to get through. Brigadist here and there, but not everywhere to keep the flow of people moving and controlled, no one there to aid anyone getting sick.

It was also suddenly made clear how needed a decent air circulating system is needed, as with the doors open at every floor it wasn't so hard to climb the stairs up to the 8th floor without stopping (usually I have to stop already at the 2nd, 3rd floor and then every other floor).

Get to your cubicle, put things away, grab your stuff and hit it home. Down again in the darkness.

There was no prior tests, no simulations, no suficient information, and it showed. Sad thing was that the emergency system was put out far quicker than expected, and there was no order in the evacuation. What would have happened if there were fire or an earthquake? Oh, because the jams at the exit of the parking lot - the only exit - were like those experienced at the end of the day.

Good thing was, though, that I've got to have lunch with one of the Andys, which I like, because our Andys are awesome, and we went to our beloved Italian restaurant, and had a great chat. Good thing was that the work day was far shorter. Good thing was that I've got to make all my errands Today, so tomorrow I can relax and have fun, perhaps only go to the Post Office to drop my letters, if I finish them Today.

Tomorrow I plan as well to go to visit Lau, who came back from the States, where she spent almost two weeks with our dear Roo. Hopefully i'll drop by Alix' place too, have some chat, and then ... who knows? It's weekend. The weekend came early this week!

Oh, on Sunday I hope to meet with my beloved Shimmy Gin, and have a great conversation on sooooo many things! I also want to start again my search for a perfect silver ring, my Nibelung Ring. Oh yes, of course, and I'm planning to go to Hungary to visit at the end of the year... as usual.

@ Leroy, where the World finds Meaning Again

This is me right now. Well, not "right now-right now", but less than ten minutes ago... well, maybe not, but definitivelly not 30 minutes ago. This is me at Leroy finding peace and quite, alone with a glass of coke and a crêpe that thretens to defeat me. Cottage cheese mixed with sour cream and sugar for filling, covered with warm vanilla cream and peaches on top. It is delicious, but after an avocado roll it is a bit hard to down. This is one of the happiest places in the world for me, and definitively the best place to be after a series of unfortunate events.

Only today I wanted to buy a particularly nice Swatch watch that I really wanted, which after a year of looking and finding nothing to my taste, I finally found that one, only to realize today that it had been sold. Sold, no more. That was a blow, a very low hit. Then I realized what I've been experiencing all year long: Swatch hardly has anything else to offer me. That's most disappointing. To wash over my sadness, I went to the Benetton store, to buy myself new gloves, since I lost my Parisian Benetton gloves somewhere, probably in my Escape from The House of The Mother-in-Law. I really loved those gloves, but the run and the escape are a fair price for my gloves. Now I'm wearing some ugly white Mickey Mouse-like white gloves I would rather not use. Well, gues what? No gloves. I mean there were some "gloves", red and green, in the best Louis Vuiton style, which I dislike. So, no Benetton gloves for me. I did found a lovely garbo blouse, stripped in green and blue shades, but I believe that 168€ (some $238) is just a bit too much for a garbo. Trust me, if I say it's a bit too much, it's because it is. Specially when a sweater of the same material, but with V neck costs only 47,50€ (some $67,50). I'm crazy for Benetton, but I am not stupid. There was a lovely knitted gray and coal skirt there, in one size only. S. I ain't no S, I'm an M, but like to wear L because it's more comfty. There were M and L skirts... in gray and white. I want gray and coal, not gray and white. It would have been lovely for this weater, but I want grey and coal, and though I could make an effort and try on the S, I won't. Why do everything has to be so hard in here?

There were other pieces that have got me thinking, a few skirts I could purchase, perhaps, and then leave them here so that I have some solid clothes ready for when I move in. The idea is good, but first I'd like to check on other Benetton stores bafore making my final decision. This store didn't take me off my feet, so it will be put on hold.

Now, regarding my latest skin products, I must say I've been transformed into a believer of L'Occitane. First of all, yes, when you have the chance, purchase the products at airports and Duty Free places, because even if you "think" $53 for the product is too much (specially this traveling kit of daily moisturizing 24 hour lasting cream and eye contour cream, both of shea butter, grand total: $53 in Costa Rica's airport) it is not. In Budapest you can't get the kit, only the creams by separate. Grand Total of both? $92. And it works. I mean, I know that my brand new glasses totally hide any bags under my eyes, which I have always had, but I can assure you that using the eye contour cream in the morning and at night have made VISIBLE differences on my skin. Puffiness has been reduced, darkness is gone and the daily cream makes my face silky even in this weather. I tell you all, I've found GOLD.

Initially I planned to scribble up an entry all in Spanish about the truth about my mother-in-law with a detailed minute-by-minute recount of the events occured on the faitful day of December 26th, but then I changed my mind. Perhaps it will still happen, but I believe I have to work some more on the subject, mull it over and fill my soul with other experiences to digest it better.

The end of the year is coming close and with it, the time for resolutions, for living and letting die, for letting go and going on. Time for the annual cleaning, when in mind, soul, body, space and cyberspace you let go of the things that anchor you so that the new year begins full with hope and possibilities and enough place to grow into. There's something so beautiful about getting rid of all those things you don't need, and look around and see so much space, so much "possibilities" around you. Cluttering slows you down, cleaning and getting space invigorates you. It is the best feeling in the world!

Mother-in-Law-House Break

This is me pretending to do some job. Why, and why today? Well, because as we seapk my boyfriend and his hineous family are upstairs pretending to be "the big thing" putting up a "presentation" for Christmas. A hineous presentation, I must say, I saw yesterday at my Father-in-Law's place, who, BTW ain't anything like my Mother-in-Law. If she could be more corny or "Brady Bunch"-like, she would. Looking at her is a sure way to go either anorexic or bulimic... from nausea alone.

But, do I hate my Mother-on-Law? Oh no, only when I get in contact with her, but otherwise I've no problem in the world with her. But my Father-in-Law... he is a god. Big time. I must get a picture of him and post it. He has that classic Sean Connery thing going on, speaks French and has pzaz and style like nobody's business. My Mother-in-Law is the epithome of tackiness. Did you know that she gave me "second hand"clothes for Christmas. For the love of beer, who gives such crap? Oh, no, ain't like she has no money, she gave me LOADS of it and so hineous nobody in no era would ever wear them. Yeah, you may wonder why would someone give someone else clothes when they barely know each other, after all no way to know sizes or tastes or anything. Well, I rather not embarch into the dangerous, poisonous lands of her thinking. On the other hand, my Father-in-Law, the gentleman as he is, gave me a wonderful, color perfect brown cashemire scarf I've been using ever since. It's just so perfect!! Soft and silky and it looks so good with my skin color and the clothing I usually wear, and my coat! I totally, totally love that man! ^_^

Hell... there's silence.

I must leave slowly, be back as soon as I get rid of these hineous people.

Home, Sweet, Cold Home

Budapest, cold -?°C. I'm home. It puts a smile on my face to say so, even if it's freaking cold outside, my lips get chapped like nobody's business and I gara tape up my fingers because cold and dry air are lifting up the skin of my cuticles in a rather painful way. Won't even tell you how fucking uncomfortable it feels to be typing right now. But even so, I'm HOME. For three weeks but I guess I gara be happy for whatever I can get.

Well, the travel itself was... interesting, to say the least, Amsterdam was so frott'n cold I wouldn't go outside even if I was paid (so I stayed at the airport the whole five hours), I lost my Hungarian phone's PIN number, which really got me running in circles like crazy, because, come on, a telecommunications economist with no telecommunications access? That's called "shame". I've got my PIN number then (got my Mom to look it up for me), an went then with my boyfriend to see AVATAR.

The movie was interesting to say the least. The topic itself was quite worn and a HUGE commonplace, some "leftover" remake from other movies, but at this point, and maybe from the Costa Rican point of view, it hit home with me. From frame to frame, it got me constantly thinking about "Crucitas", the gold mine Industrias Infinito, from Infinito Gold is trying to put up in our country, with the help of our ever so corrupted President in the middle of an Internationally protected area. Hell, the actions and the speech of our president often makes me think that the "Peace with Nature" thing he seems so fond to promote really means "Rest In Peace with Nature".

In the movie, both Michelle Rodríguez, whom I love, really, and Sigourney Weaver got non-demanding, usual-drift roles, which I really hated. Ms. Weaver got back to the Alien-meets-that-movie-about-talking-with-monkeys and Ms. Rodríguez was back to her boxing-tough-gal-like-a-man roles. It was a shame, I'd say, but still, the movie pulled it out to an average level.

Yesterday then, Kari and I got new glasses at my favorite optical store: Vision Expressz. Here's a picture of my new frames, what do you think? Simple, black, no bling, small, smart, I saw them and loved them.

Atr night we received our friends Emő and Títusz, and prepared for them potato skins, which proved to be an amazing success. Potato skins are tremendously easy to make and everybody fall in love with them almost instantly. It does entails somewhat of preparation, but it's really easy and the taste worths the working on it. I totally love it and nnow Kari is a believer too. We looked also at some pictures of Kari, which was amazing, because I would have never said that he was the kid in the picture. I would have sworn it was somebody else, and somehow I still believe that maybe he has been framed and that's not really him, but they've made him believe that the kid in the picture is him. I mean, minus the plucked eyebrow, I know that the girl in the picture with seaming face, big eyebrows and curly hair is me. Same nose, same mouth, same eyes, but Kari? Really.

Some of our programs had to be reprogrammed, mostly due to the snow. I mean, cars are burried and not even the cab will come up our street, as it is somewhat steep and the snow on it makes it slippery and totally impossible to climb with a car. I still gara do some calls, gara plan some cookies and stuff, still gara call my Grandpa and my Best Friend, among other things, but above all, I'll happy, if freezing, because I'm finally home.

Officially on Vacations

This is my last entry from Costa Rica, and since I've to board my plane in 7 minutes I'll keep it short. Not like I've much to say, though, I'm simply going home for three wonderful weeks and I can't wait to be there. ^_^ Kari is being such a dear, doing all the groceries, and calling the cleaning lady to clean up the apartment (probably so that I don't see the mess in which he lives, and therefore I don't give him a piece of my mind about why things should be left in museum-like reverence once I have ordered them), got out to get me my cereal (do you know there's no actual Hungarian word for "cereal" as in Corn Flakes, Cheerios, Rice Crispies and such? Hungarians don't eat cereals... it's madness for me), got me Heineken, icecream...

For the first time in my life, I'm at the VIP Lounge, where for straight 20 minutes I wasn't able to get on the Internet. However I've been nursing my Jack Daniels on the rocks and feeling great. The little nerves and bothering feelings I had at the begining finished when I finally got my luggage checked in, even if for the first time in my life I was made pay for teh overweight. $50 for 4 Kg. Yeah, outrageous. Specially when I've made it with far more than that before. I mean, two pieces of luggage and 4 Kg extra in total. Hn, something tells me those electronical weighting machines are scarmbled. I mean, yes that's the real weight of my luggage (or something like that, though today they seemed a bit lighter, though I took nothing from them), but it always shows less and I always manage to pull my luck and get away with murder.

Time to go now!

Handmade Gifts

I may have not been able to send my Christmas Cards this year (and I not to myself that I will plan this better from now on), but I did manage to make some jewelry for some of my friends. Here are the pictures.

Nautica: Blue and Gold

Heart-in-Heart Lace Choker and matching Heart Pendant Earrings

Sunbead Flower: Amber Glass Flower necklace and matching earrings

Angel: Blue bead, pearl-like beads and wire angel "concept" with wing earrings.

You've Missed Me, Haven't You?

Five days with not one single post on. Well, that's what I call outrageous. I could explain why, but since I don't believe in "explanations", only actions, I'll defer from giving them. In these days that passed, some things got out of hand, so I'm working hard on managing them, put them all together again. It won't be an easy task, but I believe you can solve pretty much anything if you keep your options open, your mind clear and your eyes on a thought-through plan to get out of the swamp.

Some pictures have remained on Nagi after my trip home, and many of them can't be worked into a post anymore. I somehow have to write things when they happen, and rememoring them, going back to them doesn't always work for me. The feeling washes away, mutates, gets lost, and it stops being the same.

Time is an interesting contraption, that holds us in this net-like bubble. You get a different sense of it when you travel longer distances, like from Hungary to Costa Rica. Even if you don't get jet lag, it's an interesting feeling when you have to adjust your computer, your phone, your PDA and your watch, or watches (like in my case), and your mind goes to that other place, that other time, and while you are still wide awake, you think of your beloved, who is already in bed, sleeping, maybe snoring, which becomes the sound that makes you smile and you love even more than Tupac's "Gangster Paradise". Time holds you to a certain life, a certain routine, and when you get a bit dislodged of it, it's like you get trapped for a moment in a castle in the sky, from where you can see far, far away, to lands and lives you cannot touch.

God knows how much I miss being home, miss waking up with Kari, have his arms surround me when he wakes up, his long hair on the pillow, his nose against my cheek. My bed here is so soft, so smooth, so perfect, but it has no Kari in it, and I miss that more than my three fluffy pillows and my fluffy duvet. There was nothing from my regular stuff in there. I had two drawers in a very messy cupboard, clothes in two suitcases and books piled up in to cardboard fruit boxes. CDs piled up on small places, and yet I was home. I was lost in dreaming, in planning, in holding his hand while we walked in Budapest, Krakow, Wien and looked at the things I'd love to see in our home. A lamp for the dining table, or for our little reading corner, that would make it cozier. The bed I wanted for our bedroom, taking the forms to him, and discussion the tone of the wood, cheking his demands for storage under it (which it has). Smiling because we want the same kind of turn of the century, distressed furniture, that speaks of old and simplicity. No overdone additions, just the beauty of well balanced handmade woodcraft. The smile in the peace, the simple, daily things, such as watering OUR little plant, him smiling because I talk to it in English, me picking and arranging his many magazines and papers, seeking constantly ways to keep him organized and make it easy for him to find and follow. Getting to the point where I know where he put this or that, which he forgot and has been turning the apartment upside down.

It doesn't have to be big, spacious, only ours, and be filled with us and the things that speak about us. Our pictures, our memories, the things we pick.

Now we are apart, but only in space, for my heart has not left his since January.

The Power of "Forget"

There are a lot of things that just can't be forgotten. There are a lot of things we do not wish to forget, and yet we do. It is said that writing helps with this. You write down the things you don't want to forget, so you can keep them forever (and lo here the existance of jounals and memoires and such stuff), and then you also write down the things you wish to forget in order to exorcisize them from your soul. Only this is not the answer to such things, or not all of them. Take my case, for example.

Today I lost my phone. In a commercial center. I didn't realize until I was at home, and I couldn't find my phone and I called myself and guess what? I couldn't here Jay-Z and Linking Park asking me to pick up the phone. Chaos. Catastrofe. I HAVE A DATE TONIGHT WITH KARI AND I DON'T KNOW HIS NUMBER!!! (Kari is short for Károly, which is the Hungarian form of Charles, just in case you wonder why am I dating a "Carrie".) Ricsi was also sending me SMS to fix something for tomorrow. (Ricsi: read "Richie".) Do I know his number? Dude, that's why the phone remembers! So I don't have to! Well, this is what happens when you don't care about learning a phone number: you loose your phone and you life is over. Kari I would have minded more, since last night I've got a taste of his flesh, and man, he feels like... the first gout of coke sliding down your throat in the morning. I gara say it, he has one gifted cock.

Right now I'm getting myself in "trouble". Faux V wants to come with me in december, which would be great, only I already asked Kari to travel with me to Vienna... not to mention that Tavo wants to come too. Tavo is a friend and it would be horrible to put him in such a situation when he has to stay and look away while I'm getting my brains systematically pumped out of my skull. Probably I'll have to arrange something with Kari, and talk him into traveling with me to Vienna in Spring, and just meet with me in the next winter. Oh, why do I bother! Faux V probably will scape out of it before March, and Tavo... well, we will fix him with some girl and that will be it. However, if I get to have Faux V in Costa Rica... I wouldn't mind it at all. ^_^ Still gara see, also, if this Kari sticks around or what.

Anyway, back to the phone.

I went to this Commercial Center close to my aunt's place, because there's a very good optic store here, and I wanted to get for myself new contacts. I had my current glasses straightened up and then bought them a new, smaller, flatter case so I can fit it easier into my purse. I've got an appointment with the doc, and while I waited, I went downstairs to a supermarket to but a few things I had on my "list". Wine, chocolates and such. The doc made a very throught checking of my eyes and told me that my corneas are so extremely sensitive, she doesn't recomment me any contacts for at least six months. She made me all kinds of compromising questions, such as "how long do you use your lenses?" and "do you take them off?" For which the honest answer was: "I put them on in February, and don't take them out until October." So, it seems I hurt my eyes pretty bad, and now I have to let them get better. T_T

Ricsi was sending me SMS and I read the last he sent me, but didn't answer to it thinking I'll answer later. I wasn't going to go to back home, but the chocolates my brother demanded, and thge wine where heavy, so I had to stop at home, leave my baggage and then continue my tour. at home I thought about answering Ricsi's SMS... and there was no phone.

"Oh fuck..."

I searched, searched like crazy and nothing, so I had no other choice but to retrace my steps and find my phone... before 16 h,when Kari was going to call me to hang out. I ran out still thinking of the possibilities, and then ran back home to get all my contract papers and such of Pannon, just in case the phone was nowhere to be found. I thought I could still ask my operator to give me a new SIM with my old account and old number, and somehow make up a story, so they don't block the IMEI of my phone, since the phone I bought was with Jules, getting it unSIMLocked, and I really wanted my new, Hungarian speaking phone. I thought about how much I dislike my Costa Rican phone, but right now, it wasn't that bad. I just wanted it back. For the new phone, if I had to buy a new one, I was going to ask for a recount of all the numbers that have called me and that I've called, so I can get the numbers because... I know no number by heart. I hardly know my own!

God loves me and he didn't want me spending unnecesary money, so I found my phone... at the optic. It comes to my mind that I haven't answered Ricsi's SMS.

I have another "revelation". This year starts with sex. Will this be a "fuck-around" year? That's still out there to see.

I wrote this down, and yet, I'm sure, I'll keep losing my mobile, specially if, as it seems, getting laid makes me more forgetful. ^_^