I skyped this weekend with KVS, one of my best friends from college and a freelance writer in New Orleans. (One of my favorite memories of New York is when KVS was in charge of making and taking pictures of the recipes featured in New York Magazine each week. Her pictures then were turned into sketches, so every so often I would open a NYM and see a drawing of my hands. Or Megh’s.)
The longer I am here, the more accustomed I am to having stupid conversations (“Hi, I’m Alex. I am American. I like the beach.”), so it was nice to talk with someone who knows me so well. KVS also can relate to some of my feelings about living in Budapest as she moved to New Orleans last year knowing only a couple of people.
Like anything, transplanting to Budapest and New Orleans has its ups and downs, but KVS described it perfectly; sometimes you just want someone to “witness” you. Like if I weren’t to run around Margaret Island in the morning or walk around Tesco during lunch because my office makes me claustrophobic, would anyone notice? This has to be part of the reason why everyone and their mother has a blog or twitter account.
(For the record, the aforementioned “anyone” excludes my mom. One Friday night when I worked at DB, I didn’t respond to my mom’s email because I went to bed at 7 PM after pulling an all-nighter. The next morning I awoke to ten messages from coworkers whom my mom had called trying to track me down.)
At the same time, not having many people “witness” you is kinda fun and part of the appeal about moving to a new city in the first place. So it goes both ways.
And I am sorry to say that you now are witness to my sulking following the mysterious Govinda closure and ramblings resulting from not having moved from the couch except to get up and pour another bowl of cereal. Nougat Pillows, I am cheating on you.
Monday, March 1, 2010
Yup, I'm Being Dramatic
If you are reading this - especially given my lack of consistent posts - chances are that you know me pretty well and that I am q to v obsessed with routine.
Well, one of my favorite routines is now in limbo as I rushed home from work tonight to make the 7 PM Govinda hot yoga class...and the yoga studio was gone. What used to be a Hare Krishna gift shop / steamy makeshift yoga studio morphed overnight into two empty rooms with nothing but a cleaning lady mopping the floors. The only word I understood was “Nem.” No.
I really hope Govinda is doing an annual cleaning, but I doubt it given its usual attitude toward cleanliness.
Feeling irrationally defeated, I returned to my apartment to try to google my way to an answer. No dice but I did find the blog of my favorite/most hated yoga teacher, Gauranga. This man is amazing, but he has almost made me cry twice, and I haven’t done that over sports…in a long time.
Please, Govinda, come back to me. You are my happy place.
Well, one of my favorite routines is now in limbo as I rushed home from work tonight to make the 7 PM Govinda hot yoga class...and the yoga studio was gone. What used to be a Hare Krishna gift shop / steamy makeshift yoga studio morphed overnight into two empty rooms with nothing but a cleaning lady mopping the floors. The only word I understood was “Nem.” No.
I really hope Govinda is doing an annual cleaning, but I doubt it given its usual attitude toward cleanliness.
Feeling irrationally defeated, I returned to my apartment to try to google my way to an answer. No dice but I did find the blog of my favorite/most hated yoga teacher, Gauranga. This man is amazing, but he has almost made me cry twice, and I haven’t done that over sports…in a long time.
Please, Govinda, come back to me. You are my happy place.
Monday, February 15, 2010
Happy Valentine's Day
Why yes, I AM Jess & Henry's vacation photographer.
Theorem: The Cafe Kor waitress is out of control with a camera.
Step 1: I subtly place camera on table.
Step 2: Waitress eyes camera.
Step 3: Photo shoot commences.
Step 4: Alex has 12 pictures at dinner from which to choose.
QED
Theorem: People will take a red and silver theme party at the New York Palace very seriously.
Proof: Please see above picture.
Like I said, I was just the photographer - I didn't ask questions.
Kara, thank you for your email. In a super weird way, you kinda made my Valentine's Day.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
Alex Vagyok
There are 300 people working at my company’s Hungarian office. About 40% are women. As far as I know, there are two single-stall female bathrooms in the building. I drink at least one coke zero each day, and my New Year’s resolution was to drink more water. Ergo, I spend way too much time waiting in line outside of the bathroom.
Usually I just smile at the 20+ colleagues whom inevitably walk by while I am chilling outside of the bathroom. However, today one of my coworkers Zsolt whom I had never talked to before stopped and told me he had found my plug.
That is strange. I like to keep my plug private.
OH! My blog!
Hi, coworkers whom I didn’t know were reading this!
Alex vagyok. Sajnálom, hogy nem beszélek magyarul. A magyar nyelvtanulásom nem ment jól. Kérem legyen szíves beszéljen hozzám angolul.
Usually I just smile at the 20+ colleagues whom inevitably walk by while I am chilling outside of the bathroom. However, today one of my coworkers Zsolt whom I had never talked to before stopped and told me he had found my plug.
That is strange. I like to keep my plug private.
OH! My blog!
Hi, coworkers whom I didn’t know were reading this!
Alex vagyok. Sajnálom, hogy nem beszélek magyarul. A magyar nyelvtanulásom nem ment jól. Kérem legyen szíves beszéljen hozzám angolul.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Blasé Ex-Pat or American Tourist?
I waver back and forth between being in and out of my element in Budapest. I may never be completely comfortable shouting the familiar Hungarian salutation in public, but I can order off of a menu like nobody’s business.
The past weekend summed up the juxtaposition.
Blasé Ex-Pat: I met up with a few friends for drinks on Friday night and ran into multiple people I knew at the bar. Most notable was Paul, the first friend I made in Budapest after he responded to my desperate “Are you there, Friend? It’s Me, Alex” couch-surfing plea my first weekend in the city. I wondered why we drifted apart until he texted me the following night asking if I wanted to troll for girls with him and his friend.
American Tourist: One of my three tenets of living in/visiting the ‘Pest is one must call a taxi to avoid being ripped off by gypsy cabs. On Saturday night, I followed my advice, called CityTaxi, and proceeded to climb into a CityLine cab. Those tricksters. It wasn’t until I paid six times the standard fare that I realized gypsy cabs now are going so far as to mimic the names and logos of legitimate cab companies in the city.
Blasé Ex-Pat: My destination was the spa party at Rudas Baths advertised as “an outstanding cultural event that attracts the youth…at the beginning, the young people just wander around, but as soon as it gets hot, the corners become shady and everyone starts enjoying the party as much as they can.” While I unfortunately missed the “whale stripping,” I did enjoy the trapeze artists, belly dancers, flame throwers, and my backstroke/shoulder roll dance moves. Other highlights of the evening included my refusal to leave the bath until it was completely drained and new habit of writing in the passive voice.
American Tourist: I have a track record of being pulled over by the police while driving, and my Pavlovian reflex kicked in on Sunday afternoon when I saw a cop car heading for the shoulder. The subsequent conversation between the non-English speaking police officer and me was very confusing because for whatever reason he couldn’t understand why I had voluntarily offered myself up for a ticket (aka bribe). That combined with eating buffalo wings and potato skins at a Superbowl Party at T.G.I. Friday’s made for quite the American Sunday.
The past weekend summed up the juxtaposition.
Blasé Ex-Pat: I met up with a few friends for drinks on Friday night and ran into multiple people I knew at the bar. Most notable was Paul, the first friend I made in Budapest after he responded to my desperate “Are you there, Friend? It’s Me, Alex” couch-surfing plea my first weekend in the city. I wondered why we drifted apart until he texted me the following night asking if I wanted to troll for girls with him and his friend.
American Tourist: One of my three tenets of living in/visiting the ‘Pest is one must call a taxi to avoid being ripped off by gypsy cabs. On Saturday night, I followed my advice, called CityTaxi, and proceeded to climb into a CityLine cab. Those tricksters. It wasn’t until I paid six times the standard fare that I realized gypsy cabs now are going so far as to mimic the names and logos of legitimate cab companies in the city.
Blasé Ex-Pat: My destination was the spa party at Rudas Baths advertised as “an outstanding cultural event that attracts the youth…at the beginning, the young people just wander around, but as soon as it gets hot, the corners become shady and everyone starts enjoying the party as much as they can.” While I unfortunately missed the “whale stripping,” I did enjoy the trapeze artists, belly dancers, flame throwers, and my backstroke/shoulder roll dance moves. Other highlights of the evening included my refusal to leave the bath until it was completely drained and new habit of writing in the passive voice.
American Tourist: I have a track record of being pulled over by the police while driving, and my Pavlovian reflex kicked in on Sunday afternoon when I saw a cop car heading for the shoulder. The subsequent conversation between the non-English speaking police officer and me was very confusing because for whatever reason he couldn’t understand why I had voluntarily offered myself up for a ticket (aka bribe). That combined with eating buffalo wings and potato skins at a Superbowl Party at T.G.I. Friday’s made for quite the American Sunday.
Monday, February 8, 2010
So, Skiing...
My first ski trip had its ups & downs.
Highlights were Saturday AM ski lessons with a cute instructor and a fellow student my age (since there was a good chance I would have been paired with a 3-year old based ability), hot chocolate and gluhwein, and Fuzzy Duck (more on that later).
Lowlights were having my skiis stolen after the aforementioned Saturday lesson (I now own a set of 1 year old skiis currently being used/sold by someone in the greater Slovakia area), and a mini freak-out when attempting to ski down a mountain on Sunday. And by mountain, I mean a gently sloping hill. Or a plateau with a slight incline.
I pretty much looked like Tiny Tim all weekend.
Susan on the other hand looked great despite protesting she was not a good skier.
Never having been skiing before, I didn't realize skiing in Europe merely is a means to travel from one bar/pub to another on the slopes.
The Igloo held a dance party on Saturday night where two of the three top contestants had to be 55+. The victor Olga may or may not have used her winnings for a hip replacement.
Tim & Co. introduced Susan and me to Fuzzy Duck, a drinking game which gets expotentially more complicated when played inebriated.
Susan drew a "Crazy Duck" and was tasked with lying facedown on bar while calling whale noises to Dave, who was somersaulting down the hall.
Reason #157 Why I Love Sus - She did it.
I am sure this describes your last skiing experience also.
Highlights were Saturday AM ski lessons with a cute instructor and a fellow student my age (since there was a good chance I would have been paired with a 3-year old based ability), hot chocolate and gluhwein, and Fuzzy Duck (more on that later).
Lowlights were having my skiis stolen after the aforementioned Saturday lesson (I now own a set of 1 year old skiis currently being used/sold by someone in the greater Slovakia area), and a mini freak-out when attempting to ski down a mountain on Sunday. And by mountain, I mean a gently sloping hill. Or a plateau with a slight incline.
I pretty much looked like Tiny Tim all weekend.
Susan on the other hand looked great despite protesting she was not a good skier.
Never having been skiing before, I didn't realize skiing in Europe merely is a means to travel from one bar/pub to another on the slopes.
The Igloo held a dance party on Saturday night where two of the three top contestants had to be 55+. The victor Olga may or may not have used her winnings for a hip replacement.
Tim & Co. introduced Susan and me to Fuzzy Duck, a drinking game which gets expotentially more complicated when played inebriated.
Susan drew a "Crazy Duck" and was tasked with lying facedown on bar while calling whale noises to Dave, who was somersaulting down the hall.
Reason #157 Why I Love Sus - She did it.
I am sure this describes your last skiing experience also.
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
Well, They Have French In Common
Hi friends,
A few Dartmouth friends and I are running the Paris Half-Marathon on March 7th to raise money for Haiti via the organization Partners in Health (PIH).
As reports have shown, recovery groups are not having trouble mobilizing aid post-earthquake; they are struggling to handle the influx of capital. PIH is a fab organization to support because they have the experience and local community infrastructure and staff to effectively deploy aid.
I know many people want to donate to the Haiti relief effort, so hopefully you will consider this a good, personal means to do so.
Donate Here
I will keep you updated on the fundraising as well as my training/race results. In a freak running accident, I pulled my chest muscle two weeks ago but as of yesterday I am back in business. Me, the communist gym, and the slightly creepy, weight-lifting guys who hover behind me and comment whenever I change the pace on the treadmill.
Thanks, friends!
A few Dartmouth friends and I are running the Paris Half-Marathon on March 7th to raise money for Haiti via the organization Partners in Health (PIH).
As reports have shown, recovery groups are not having trouble mobilizing aid post-earthquake; they are struggling to handle the influx of capital. PIH is a fab organization to support because they have the experience and local community infrastructure and staff to effectively deploy aid.
I know many people want to donate to the Haiti relief effort, so hopefully you will consider this a good, personal means to do so.
Donate Here
I will keep you updated on the fundraising as well as my training/race results. In a freak running accident, I pulled my chest muscle two weeks ago but as of yesterday I am back in business. Me, the communist gym, and the slightly creepy, weight-lifting guys who hover behind me and comment whenever I change the pace on the treadmill.
Thanks, friends!
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