Everyday life in Szoboszlo

It's been a while since I've written. Not because I've been particularly busy but because it doesn't feel like much has been happening - in the  most wonderful way possible. I am settling in and Szoboszlo feels like home. I teach, lesson plan, shop, go to choir practice, make it into Debrecen for Mass some weeks and others just go here in town, I cook, I watch tv, normal everyday things. It's hard for me to remember that this isn't "normal" for everyone reading my blog because it seems so natural to me.

One of my main goals this year was to figure out if I love living in Hungary or if I just love living in Budapest. I've only been here a month and a half but I know the answer quite definitely. I love living in Hungary. Last Saturday, I got up early and took the train to Budapest for the day to see some of the other CETP teachers. It was very strange because I had never "visited" Budapest before. Of course, I've lived there and I have seen many of the sights and I know my way around, but I had never gone there just to visit. Comparing it to Szoboszlo was bizarre. I love Budapest, it's a wonderful city and I will always be grateful for my years there, but now I can see more of its flaws. The city is big, dirty, noisy, and smelly. I am happy to be this close (2.5 hours by train) and be able to visit every so often rather than live there.

School is going well. Slowly but surely I am learning names (hard when I have ~425 students!!). At this point, I know most of the students who misbehave as well as the excellent ones but I still need to learn the rest. I would venture a guess that I know about a quarter of the names (when they are in class... it's much harder when I see them in the hall and don't have a class to associate them with). Not bad when you figure I've only had five classes with most of them (I was out sick for three days in September with a bad cold)! The kids are sweet, it was quite an adjustment at first because they speak much less English than those at my last school but I am figuring out how to make things work. My favorite classes to teach are 1st grade (they are so so adorable), 5th grade (very small classes and they are bright/hard working kids), and one of my 8th grade classes (they focus better than any of my other classes and we get things done much quicker - which means they get more time to play games - it's a win-win situation!).

I am still playing the "I don't know what you're saying, tell me in English" card and will do so as long as I can. Of course, I slip up every once in a while and respond to something they say but I tend to play it off and be extra "clueless" for the rest of the  class. Even though I don't respond, it is very helpful to know what they are talking about. I would prefer that they not swear in Hungarian in my class but I'm not sure how to deal with that without "exposing" my knowledge. I have given most of my upper school classes a piece of my mind when they have slipped and sworn in English.

Finding creative ways to manage my classes is a bit of a challenge but I'm getting better at it. All of my students need to have a name tag (we made them the first week of classes) so that I can see who they are and I have different tactics for different grades to ensure that they have them. First and second get stickers if they have them and a sad face if they don't; I think I may start recording more closely with rewards if they have a certain number of stickers. Third grade gets an X if they don't have it and after three Xes I'll be talking to their teacher. The fourth graders are getting a taste of my childhood - if they don't have their name tag and/or notebook I assign 15-25 sentences for the next week: I will bring my notebook/name tag to Miss Rose's class. We are having a contest in fifth and sixth grades and the class loses points if they do not have their name tag. In seventh and eighth, I give them time at the beginning of class to make a new name tag if they don't bring one. I count how many minutes of my teaching time it takes them and then I take the same number of minutes from their break at the end of class. In general, stickers are a wonderful reward for anything. I haven't used them in 7th or 8th but even the 6th graders get very excited to get them for a good mark on an exercise in class. All in all, I really love teaching. It's funny since I never expected to be doing it but I can see myself teaching for a very long time.

All my paperwork is completed. It was fantastic, I only had to go to immigration in Debrecen once. And, had the officer not mistyped my name in the form, it would have taken about an hour. As it was, we were finished in an hour and a half. Two weeks later I received a letter saying my residency application was accepted and another week or so later, I received my residence permit. Both of those came by registered mail so I only had to go to the post office and pick them up. The school has been so organized with all my paperwork. I have been very thankful because it saves so much time, energy, and worry that one of my papers will be misplaced.

My health card took a little longer to get which was almost a problem when I was sick. I had a nasty cold (just a cold this time... I didn't let it develop into bronchitis or anything!) and had go to the doctor. That was challenging because my contact teacher was in England on a school trip. I ended up calling Hajni, our program director. She called the school and one of the other teachers took me to the doctor after the principal called the doctor's office. My doctor is directly across the street which is great because it only take a minute or two to get there depending on when the lights turn. The pharmacy is around the corner from the doctor - I can still almost see it from my balcony. Despite not having my health card, I was able to see the doctor and got prescriptions for antibiotics (which I took even though it turned out not to be bacterial), nose spray, cough medicine, and vitamin c. The appointment was free and the prescriptions cost about 6000ft (a little under $30) all together. I think the three days of rest which the doctor also prescribed did more than the rest! I've gotten my health card since then so, while I hope I won't have to go back, things should be fine if I do.

As I mentioned above, I'm singing in a choir in Szoboszlo. It's held at the music-focused elementary school for the teachers there and other people from the town. We have a concert this afternoon at my church to celebrate the beginning of the Year of Faith. Most of the members are much older than I am (there are a few in their 30-40s but most are 50-60) but it's nice to have a place to sing. I may be joining a choir in Debrecen as well. My contact teacher's best friend teaches in the music school at the University of Debrecen and I met her yesterday. She invited me to join the Debrecen university/community choir AND is going to help me get set up with a voice teacher from the school for private lessons!!

The mail seems to be great here - I've gotten everything that people have sent quite quickly - so feel free to send me something!

Kovach Rose
Szilfakalja utca 6 2/5
Hajduszoboszlo
4200
Hungary

In a perfect world..

I would divide my time evenly between the following -  in no particular order -

• Singing
• Eating
• Cooking, baking, cake decorating
• Sleeping
• Dressing shows for an opera company
• Reading
• Traveling
• Teaching
• Going to Mass, praying, etc
• Hanging out with friends (could be combined with almost any of the above)
• Wasting time on the internet

Too bad this isn't a perfect world.

On the bright side, I do get to do most of those things on a fairly regular basis :)

Brand new blog format :)

No, it doesn't say where all the roads lead to... yet. Waiting to solidify some plans. Very excited!

Finally

After almost six miserable months of no direction, the needle on my compass has finally found its way back to North. I've been barely surviving these past few months: living at my parents' house, just got a job last month at Walmart, singing a little, reading, and wasting time online. I wasn't working towards anything and didn't even know what I wanted to do or where I wanted to go. If asked where I saw myself in 5 or 10 years, the honest answer was, "no idea." The future was a huge hole. Rather than a light at the end of a tunnel, I felt like I was on a train hurdling faster and faster into a cave with no other end. And then my "fever broke."

I was in a meeting with my counselor on Wednesday when I gave her one of the "missing puzzle pieces" which I thought she had known all along. With that information, she helped me make sense of connections and priorities between my main goals/dreams in life. By the end of the session, I had a plan of action (somewhat) and something to work towards. Later that day, I was able to understand a decision I had made a few months ago. I knew that the decision was somehow logical, but until I saw the connection, I had no idea how or why it made sense. I get it now. And, with changes I'll be making in my life, the decision will probably be reversed in time.

In the short-term, my plans are still being worked out. There are a number of different paths I can take but at least now I know where they are leading.

Reality sucks

During my year in Budapest, every few days I would have "pinch me" moments. Those moments where it hit me again: I actually am in Budapest. I'm living in my favorite city in the world. Being in Europe is my "normal." I'm not 4000+ miles away from my favorite ice cream and pastry shops. I have a full-time job with benefits and can afford life.

After being back in the States for a few months, I'm having those "pinch me" moments again. Only this time I want the pinch to wake me from a bad dream even though I know this is reality. Make all of the statements above negative and that's pretty much what these moments strike me with.

And, it's even bigger than that. I swore when I started college that I was never moving back to Steubenville. Now, my options are live here with my parents or be homeless. That's not much of a choice. On top of being back in the States, being stuck in Steubenville is like adding insult to injury. Unless you go to the university, there is very little of interest or value in this town. I don't know when I've ever felt so trapped. There are simply no opportunities here. I finally have a job (part time in a walmart bakery) but still don't have a car and pretty much anything meaningful requires a trip to Pittsburgh which requires use of a car, gas money, and large amounts of time.

If I was still in a city, I think things would be better but, as it is, I'm not. I keep getting information about auditions for all kinds of choirs and shows in Pittsburgh but, if I'm honest with myself, I'm just too far away for that to really be feasible. Which means I'm stuck with VERY minimal musical opportunities and little chance to improve them. Church choir, while good, only goes so far. The one community group which I've joined is disbanding after the next concert and, even if it wasn't, I wouldn't stay with them because the director's rehearsal and conducting skills, or COMPLETE lack thereof, make me want to walk out every week. I *am* splurging and driving into Pittsburgh every other week or so for voice lessons with a new teacher. Unfortunately, while they are going as well as they can, we have to go painfully slowly as we work to correct years of bad (or not ideal or something) technique that I had drilled into me. I wish God would give me a new dream based on the way this one is falling apart but that doesn't seem to be happening.

To make an already bad situation even worse, my depression is at the worst that it's been in years if not ever. I have no interest in doing much of anything and find plodding through the day about the most I can handle. It's as if, rather than seeing a light at the end of the tunnel, I'm realizing that I've driven into a cave. My doctor isn't helping as it takes four months to get an appointment (I wish I was exaggerating). Since it's easier to see the nurse practitioner, I'm going tomorrow but since she hasn't been treating me since the beginning I'm worried that it will be harder to move forward compared to my doc who knows all the different meds I've already tried. I'm furious with my ex for nagging me into stopping my meds and myself for caving to his radical views. There is so much rage bottled up inside toward him that some days I almost want to write a nasty email telling him just how badly he screwed me up mentally and emotionally. I know he didn't "mean" to but it doesn't change the facts.

As for God, I know He's out there. And I guess I believe He cares. Maybe. I'm just spiritually dead. Oh, sure, I'm going through the motions: reading my Bible, working through a spiritual book, going to daily Mass most of the time, praying before meals, etc. but mostly because I have time and I feel like I "should" go. I love the new translations of the Mass except for one in the prayer after the Our Father --

"Deliver us, Lord, we pray, from every evil, graciously grant peace in our days, that, by the help of your mercy, we may be always free from sin and safe from all distress, as we await the blessed hope and the coming of our Saviour, Jesus Christ" the priest prays.

I can't help but give a silent, morbid chuckle every time I hear it. If the prayer is asking (as it appears) to be kept safe from distress then either God's not listening or He and I have very different opinions of what constitutes distress. I'm not saying that things couldn't be worse (which, with my luck, they probably will become) or trying to imply that no one has ever dealt with more crap than all this, but I'm not exactly walking through a field of daisies.

Happy New Year?

I'd love to think that 2012 will be better than 2011. I wish I could believe it. That there would be fewer

• friends stabbing me in the back
  
• unwanted moves
• full-time jobs lost
• problems finding a car
• toxic relationships
• persons in positions of authority randomly going crazy
  
• weeks of work lost due to illness

Unfortunately, I'm not much of an optimist. Never have been. Of course, the fact that I begin the year having been forced to move back in with my parents with no car and no job doesn't help much. Nor does the fact that all I want to do is sing and I'm evidently not good enough/there aren't enough opportunities for that to be a possibility. Add in the fact that I'm not qualified to do much and the future looks even grimmer. By the fall I had quit thinking "things can't get worse" which is good considering they definitely continued to. I just don't know where the next blow will come from. It's like I'm running a gauntlet and can't even see the objects before they strike me. The next catastrophe could come in the area of

• work (hard since I've got nothing at the moment)
  
• living situation (although, I'm already at my parents' so it's hard to get worse unless I was actually homeless -- unlike "technically" homeless which I was last month)
  
• health (that was the "lightest" of my problems last year... "just" bronchitis which lasted a month, kept me out of work for two weeks, and left a cough which still lingers)
  
• friends (not something I like, but it is almost a relief when people show their true selves... the effects can be particularly unpleasant, however)

but there's no way of telling which of these (or something completely different) it will be.

I'm so sick of the "things will get better... this is just Calvary before Easter... blah blah blah..." crap that I've been getting from people (add 25 fail points if the person that says it contributes/has contributed to the disaster). Frankly, it's trite and makes me want to vomit: particularly when it's from people who aren't dealing with their whole life falling apart around them.

No, this is not a particularly positive way to start the new year. At least, hopefully, by expecting the worst, there's always a possibility that I will be pleasantly surprised. Right?

Why I'm glad I skipped 6th grade

Extreme Makeover Home Edition has a profound ability to clear my sinuses. I don't watch it very often but it seems that every time I watch it, I tear up, if not outright cry. Today was no exception. The family getting the new house this week suffered something I can't even begin to imagine. Two years ago, the sixth grade son killed himself as a result of terrible bullying at school. The rest of the family - mom, big sister, younger brother, younger sister, and aunt - have been unable to move on because of this horrific memory which is so deeply associated with their house.

Sixth grade is rough. Things are changing that you don't understand. Old friends may be making new ones and leaving you in the dust. Someone may decide that you're "not cool" and convince the rest of the class to avoid or bully you. That can make all the difference in the world between being happy and miserable at school. Middle school is brutal even without additional problems.

As the title of this post suggests, I never was a sixth grader. I was homeschooled through fifth grade and then begged and begged my parents to let me go to a tiny charter school as a seventh grader the next year. Despite this, I've seen the ugly side of 6th grade. Last year, when I was teaching in Hungary, one of my classes was the 6a class at the bilingual primary school. I saw them twice a week for music and English class. While there was a little bullying in the 5a class and the 7th graders were getting into teenage angst, the 6th graders were well known as the worst class in our program and for good reason. They were wild and uncontrollable, loud and disrespectful, crass and bullying. There was one favorite target; I'll call him Aaron. Aaron is the son of one of the other English teachers and was not adjusting well to living in Hungary. In a lot of ways, he made an easy target for them. The only one in the room who didn't speak Hungarian and so could only participate in half of the classes, he was also quiet, reserved, and unmotivated.

Aaron frustrated me. He was so unmotivated. I could be standing right next to him translating the Hungarian part of the lesson using simple language (fast, slow, etc) and he would blankly stare at me while saying "I just don't know anything about music." Well... with an attitude like that, it's unlikely that you ever will. Despite my frustration, I had immense empathy for him as the odd one out in the class because that was me ten years ago. I was the one American girl in an all Hungarian school. He had it easy compared to that. My classmates weren't nearly fluent in English. I could barely communicate with them. And, yes, I was bullied. While my class was a seventh grade class, there were many of the same problems. Name calling, reading a book during the break only to have the boys slam it shut, it wasn't fun. In fact, that semester was one of the darkest of my life. Although the year before when I was at a "Catholic" high school back in the States was worse at school, the combination of bullying with hating where I was put me the closest that I've ever been do doing something drastic. I don't know why my parents ignored the morbid notes that I left on their bed multiple times, but it's a good thing that I never did anything more than pray I wouldn't wake up the next morning. I know what it's like to be Aaron. The difference was when I accepted that I was stuck in Hungary whether or not I liked it and that I might as well make the best of it. Despite my happy ending (I fell in love with Hungary and have been back twice since that disastrous beginning), it could have been much different and I sincerely hope that things turn around for Aaron too.

Watching Extreme Makeover today, what hit home the most for me was the fact that my baby brother is in sixth grade. When the big sister was asked what she missed most about her brother, she remembered his jokes. Every time I am home, he's got at least a new joke or two. And when one of my sisters hears one, I get texts/facebook messages sharing the newest. John's not in school so bullying there isn't a concern right now (This is NOT a push for homeschooling! If I ever had kids they would not be homeschooled unless that was the absolutely only option) but bullying can take place anywhere. There are enough dangers and diseases harming kids, this is one that is completely preventable. And must end.

Just a quiet Saturday night in

Now that things have calmed down somewhat, I need to get back to updating my blog. I've finally moved back to Gbg. No car yet, but I'm borrowing one of my parents' for now.

I've got a job! It's only temporary and part-time but it's something and I love it. I'm back in the costume shop at SHU, which means I'm technically on staff at my alma mater.

WEIRD.

I have a staff email.

WEIRDER.

My name shows up in the staff directory ... with the awful picture from my freshman year student ID.

WEIRDEST.

I'm back in the lovely Victorian house where I lived my senior year in school. It's quite a funny example of mi casa es su casa because after I rented the place my senior year, my good friend, Caitlyn, started renting it. Now, we are renting together. So.. my house is literally her house and now OUR house.

The car search isn't going too well. I've started a novena to St. Jude and hopefully he will intercede for me because heaven knows I need all the help I can get.

I wish

- that it wasn't absolutely necessary to own a car in this country (unless you live in a major city)

- that I wasn't dealing with major chemical imbalances at an already extremely stressful time of my life (thanks, ex-boyfriend ... appreciate it immensely) **Note, I am gradually going back to my standard dose... but it will take time for it to work it's way back into my system

- that I was a stronger person and could have just dealt with the chaos that was my former job.

- that God would just leave me alone if He's not going to help with anything.

- that praying didn't seem totally pointless.

- that I had something to do with my life other than sit like a huge useless blob on my parents' couch searching for cars which get sold before I can see them or are too far away from Nowheresville for my parents to drive me there or have broken emergency brakes which the dealer "forgets" to tell me about or are in some other way completely unsuitable.

- that I could actually believe that God has a plan and wants something good for my life.

.... I think next time, I'll just wish for something realistic... like a pony.

Motivation..

... and how I have none these days.

I'm back in the States. Living at my parents' house. Searching, desperately, for a car. With no success so far. It's incredibly frustrating. I have a place to live in PA. I've seen so many job advertizements that I want to apply for. But, until I have a way to get anywhere, I'm stuck. My life has consisted on sitting on the couch playing computer games alternated with checking the craigslist pages for three different cities (I love living in the middle of nowhere) to see if any new cars have been posted in the 20 minutes since I looked last. I've been slacking on everything. No blogging, no music practicing (despite having multiple auditions coming up ... provided I have transportation and can get to them), no going out (I've no money -- especially after the foundation refused to pay me for the last month that I worked). I check facebook and my email but don't even respond to messages half the time. If you're one of the people who I haven't gotten back to, I'm sorry.

I just feel so trapped. Part of this is a chemical problem which I'm working on correcting. This was the worst time of my entire life so far to try and wean off my meds. Add in the fact that I really had no desire to do so but finally talked to the doctor after being nagged and nagged to the breaking point by someone whose attitude towards medicine is basically: "drugs = bad, no drugs = good." Thankfully, that person is no longer part of my life and so I can try to reverse the problems that less medication has been causing.

Coming back to the States, I knew things wouldn't be easy. But I had no concept of just how hard they would be. Not only am I not where I want to be (Budapest), I don't have the option of moving on until I have a car. People ask me all the time if I'm home "for good." All I can tell them is I'm here "for now." Hopefully, I'll be out of this town soon but I'll likely be in the States for the foreseeable future. This job which I fled was my "trump card" to get me back to Hungary. And, now, I've played the card and life has turned into a whole new game in which it's not useful.

In conclusion, please pray for me. My life is a mess and I'm having a hard time dealing with everything. I will try to blog more frequently, but I can't make any promises. Once I'm actually "settled" I'm planning to make some "new life" resolutions including blogging on a regular basis. It just feels dumb to start any of that while life is so up in the air.

On writing...

... which I don't do nearly as much as I would like.

I have so many things running through my brain these days. They're on all sorts of different topics. And usually aren't related. So often, I'll start pondering something and think "gee, that would make a great blog post." But, almost without fail, I get home from where ever I was or finish what I was doing and end up on Facebook or checking my email repeatedly or wasting time on any of a half-dozen or so "time wasting sites" like cakewrecks or foodporndaily. Or, of course, I could be on Skype :) In any case, so many of these blogs just don't get written. And it frustrates me, because once I finally get around to writing, the things that inspired the post are weeks past.

Like the post I meant to write about life. That one was inspired by a comment made by a coworker that she didn't know why a special needs child hadn't been aborted. Add in the fact that Osama bin Laden was killed that next weekend and it could have been a great post. About the fact that ALL human life is sacred: whether it's Marko (the mostly blind and deaf - I think that's what is wrong - little boy that we see at the swimming pool) or a mass murderer or the innocents who are closer to being protected by the Hungarian constitution or the baby about to be born with a condition that will allow her to live only a few hours or the boy who develops severe autism after too many immunizations in a short period of time (those last two are from books I've read in the past few months the others are from "real life"). All of them deserve to live.

Seen in the subway station:

"I understand if you aren't ready for me, but give me up for adoption - LET ME LIVE!"

Or the post that I wanted to write about the play I saw last weekend: The Complete Works of William Shakespeare Abridged, and how funny I found it. But then I had to deal with the harsh reality that I would have reacted differently had I been there with different friends. With some people I would have been (and was) laughing at the, shall we say "less than family friendly" jokes, language, costumes, etc. With other friends, I feel like I would have been squirming uncomfortably. And I realized how much I don't know about who I am. Just me - not compared to or with anyone else. What does Rose actually think about that? Who am I, really? And how can I relate to others if I don't know who I am?

Then, there's the post about Hungary and changing the names of things. In April when I was on my way to the airport, I realized that the airport had changed names in the month between going to Sweden and going to the US. I was actually on the bus going to the airport before I realized that it wasn't Ferihegy Airport anymore but Liszt Ferenc International Airport. Then I heard about a number of squares in Budapest which have just changed names. Our main transportation hub the second time we were in Hungary is now Sze'll Ka'lma'n te'r (too lazy to actually put the diacritics in at the moment) rather than Moszkva ter which it had been for the past 60 years. A square somewhere in the 8th district (known as the seedy part of town) is being renamed for Bl. JPII - oh irony. And then, I came across this tomb while visiting the cathedral in Esztergom.

Literally it translates to

Kovacs Mrs. John
Born: Oswald Margaret
(Worth noting that Mr. John was nowhere to be seen)

I know this is common in Hungary... but it bothers me. I'm no angry feminist and I fully intend to take my husband's LAST name when I get married someday, BUT, until the day I die, I will still be Rose. If we're being addressed together (especially for things like mail and such), Mr. and Mrs. Hisname Whatever is fine, but when I'm alone, I'll still have the same first name that I've had my whole life.

Finally, I went to the market yesterday and bought oranges and strawberries from one stall. After asking for what I wanted in what I'm sure was understandable, if probably not perfect, Hungarian, the guy responded to me in English. I HATE when people do that. So, I paid with the biggest bill I had in my wallet knowing how much Hungarians hate having to make change. When I got home, I looked at the strawberries he had sold me and wished that the bill had been much bigger (more annoying for him). Out of a half kilo (just over a pound), the ones on the far right were all that were good after I chopped them up to salvage as much as I could.

So, there you have it.... four mini posts for the price of one. And, while I'm making no definite promises, I hope to post something more about my trip to Esztergom soon.

March?!

Is it really March already?
Are we only starting the third month of 2011?

Looking back over the past two months, I can't decide which of these questions is more fitting. In some ways, they both are. It's hard to explain how I feel about time right now... it seems to be flying by but at the same time lasting longer than usual. I've seen unexpected doors open, close, other doors open, and windows fly open and shut at what seems to be lightning speed. 2011 has been full of surprises ... and it's only been 60 days so far. There's no telling what God has in store for the rest of the year.

It's strange how long the past few months have seemed ... or maybe a better way to put it would be, how much has happened in them. I almost feel like it's New Year's Eve and I should be writing a "recap" of the year... but it's not even a quarter through. Good, bad, funny, uncomfortable, exciting, painful: the experiences have run me through a gamut of emotions.

What I've learned this year ... so far ...
~~There are some situations you can't know how you will react to until you're in them.
~~Maybe God does answer prayers even if you've been praying them for years while subconsciously expecting Him to ignore them.
~~I'm still having moments where I think "Wait?! I'm an adult?! How did that happen?!"
~~Even with the Internet, being so far away can be really difficult.
~~Worrying doesn't help anything (I've known that)... but if you do worry, make it about something important, like staying healthy and not letting a cold develop into bronchitis. Don't waste the time worrying about silly things, like what someone might think of the fact that you watch dumb TV shows.
~~The fact that someone has a medical degree does not mean they will give you good medical advice.
~~Sometimes the right decision is the most painful... at least in the short-term.
~~God is a good author for my biography.. and He loves throwing in surprises.

I miss....

Probably borderline complaining... having been sick for almost a month and really missing some things from the States, I think it's not unreasonable.

I miss Buffalo Wild Wings... specifically those chicken wraps that come with all the extra crispy tortilla chips. Seasoned with a great conversation with close friends.

I miss Dairy Queen.... can't wait to get back and have a nice big blizzard with nuts and chocolate and who-knows-what-else.

I miss my friends.... being in the same time zone (or one hour different) and communication being something simple.

Which reminds me... I miss Oreos ... plus, this really isn't as cool as it looks on TV.

I miss American TV being easily accessible. Yes, watching Biggest Loser via skype with my sister, Miriam, is kind of cool... but it's not particularly convenient. Plus, next month when new seasons of my two "guilty pleasure" TV shows start it will be even more complicated.

I miss Denny's and Eat 'n Park and Kings ... especially for the concept of breakfast any time of day. And, along with that.. I miss fluffy pancakes and waffles with fruit sauce and/or lots of maple syrup.

I miss Pandora .. BUT not nearly as much now that I've been introduced to Grooveshark (which even has some advantages over Pandora -- a collection that includes Fr. Stan AND Dolhai Attila?! I can get behind that!)

I miss intense discussions over Cove cheesesticks (I realize that even if I was living in the States I would probably still be missing these)

I miss singing... both because it's a physical impossibility at the moment (and probably for over another month with bronchitis) and because I haven't had a voice lesson since May. Should be getting a list of voice teacher possibilities soon, but, until I've got a voice, it doesn't make much difference.

I miss hugs ... not a European concept :(

I miss well-celebrated English-language Masses ... I go to the Saturday English Mass because of the community. Maybe that's horrible, I don't know. The priest is so distracting... makes it seem like it's Fr. L's Mass not God's. The rest of the week, I go places where I have an easier time meeting Jesus but on Saturdays it's really hard to see Him. And, I wish I could go to the English Mass on Sundays but now that I've left I really can't go back without getting sucked back into the problems.

In a similar vein, I miss charismatic worship, especially when connected with Adoration .... yes, I've had my "difficulties" with CoGL (the community my parents are part of back home) and don't miss that at all, but I really miss things like iPraise at SVC or Fan into Flame or FOPs at FUS.

OK... I better stop before I get too deep into the complaining :(
Have to say, I'm still thankful for the things in the previous post. AND, I also know there are things I would really miss if I wasn't here. Two sides to every situation I suppose.

I'm Thankful

I'm thankful for the privilege of having known Mamma Sue.

I'm thankful for the way the Internet allows me to stay connected with people in the US.

I'm thankful that no one I talk to regularly lives in MST or PST.

I'm thankful for my dear friend and "twin," Jen, and for the many ways God has made her a blessing in my life.

I'm thankful for getting to see a long awaited flower begin to blossom... even from thousands of miles away.

I'm thankful that I have never had to deal with a serious injury or illness.

I'm thankful for the people in my life who make me want to be a better person.

I'm thankful for the ways I've grown this year (both the past 12 months and 2011 so far).

I'm thankful that I have a job.

I'm thankful that I live in a city I love.

I'm thankful that I have health insurance.

I'm thankful that I speak enough Hungarian to (usually) get by.

I'm thankful for my "commute" which provides Rosary time built into my day.

I'm thankful that it is so easy to get to daily Mass.

I'm thankful for my imagination and for my will and reason which help keep it in check when it tried to run wild.

I'm thankful for God's sense of humor... yes, even in those times when I feel I'm the punch line of His latest joke.

I'm thankful that it's been warmer this past week, especially since I turned my heat up because I'm sick.

I'm thankful that I was raised in a Catholic home but also that I've had the chance to choose it for myself.

I'm thankful for Skype.

I'm thankful that I decided to write this list rather than complaining about some corollaries of these statements.

I'm thankful for (and excited about!) my upcoming trip to Sweden with Deb :)

I'm thankful for my family and friends (yes, I know this is basically a "given" but still good to state).

I'm thankful for movies that are available online and for the work my Dad is doing on finding a proxy or filter so I can watch American TV.

I'm thankful for my Mom's health and that we have gotten closer in the past few years.

I'm thankful for the perspective Teresa often gives me when we talk (is she really three years younger?).

I'm thankful for fun "Watching Biggest Loser via Skype" times with Miriam.

I'm thankful for the colorful, funny letters Helen has sent... and that she hasn't complained when I've not responded :(

I'm thankful that John is being a pen pal with my Year 5 students.

I'm thankful for the girls I met in college who are still my closest friends: it's true what people say - I didn't go to college to meet my husband, I went to meet my bridesmaids.

But, most of all ...

I'm thankful for all that God has done and is doing in my life, for the way that He always provides what I need, and for the many ways He constantly reminds me how much He loves me.

**** Please pray for my friend's family as they mourn the loss of their amazing mother ****

Learning lessons the hard way

I've learned my lesson... I hope. Next time I get a horrible cough which keeps getting worse for two weeks, I will go to the doctor BEFORE it gets to the point where coughing fits leave me doubled over leaning on the wall. Before it gets to the point where my ribcage feels like it's been used as someone's punching bag. Before it gets to the point where the doctor says it's "definitely bronchitis, maybe pneumonia." Before the doctor sends me to the pharmacy to get 4 different drugs. Before I'm out of work for a minimum of 3 days (remains to be seen if I'll be back on Monday).

I have to admit, as miserable as all of this is, it definitely adds perspective. My whole life, I've been healthy. I've never had to deal with a serious illness or injury. Nothing truly awful has ever happened in my life. If bronchitis/pneumonia is the worst thing I need to deal with, then I've been living a pretty charmed life. And, even beyond that, this break is nice. Sure, I'd rather not be sick, but some extra rest is always good. Time to watch some movies, write some letters, and catch up on sleep that I've been neglecting lately isn't bad either.

Things I think about...

Watching Prince Caspian today, the following exchange really stood out for me.

[Caspian, Peter, Edmund, and Susan all kneel in front of Aslan]
Aslan: Rise, kings and queens of Narnia.
[Peter, Edmund, and Susan stand up, but Caspian stays on one knee]
Aslan: All of you.
Prince Caspian: I do not think I am ready.
Aslan: It is for that very reason, that I know you are.

How often this is true! The very fact that we can accept our own unprepared-ness and therefore understand our need to rely on God is proof that we are ready for whatever He has in store.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Words. Such an important part of life. And, often, one of the most abused. In the past few weeks, there have been a number of very different situations which have impressed upon me the importance of choosing one's words carefully.

1. The pastor from the Baptist church led Bible Study again a few weeks ago (Go here for the story of the first time he came). I got a lot more out of it than the first time: partly because of things happening in my life at that time and partly just because it was better. The topic was discerning God's will for your life, especially when it comes to important decisions. Although I didn't agree with everything he said (the joys of being a practicing Catholic, who loves/studies her faith, attending a non-denom Bible study), there were a number of good suggestions. One of these was, rather than asking for a "sign," to let something in the Word speak to you. Over the course of that next week a very unexpected situation came up which required a fairly important decision. I struggled with making the right choice for a couple of days. Finally, only hours before it was resolved, I went to daily Mass. Because it was a special feast day for the church, the readings were different from what I had read that morning. The "new" Gospel explicitly dealt with the issue that I was facing and gave me the final confirmation that I was making the right decision.

2. When the aforementioned decision came, it required a conversation (more words) which was painful for all involved. In the time before, I kept worrying over how I would phrase what I knew needed to be said. Finally, I took refuge in Mark 13:11 (Do not worry beforehand about what to say. Just say whatever is given you at the time, for it is not you speaking, but the Holy Spirit.). Although the situation could have gone better, I was able to "let go and let God."

3. A day or so after this situation, a coworker pulled me aside to ask some advice. I always feel a bit strange giving advice to people who are older than I. It just seems odd to be telling them "what to do" when they are older (and wiser) than I. When I was talking to her, I kept praying that God would give me the right words. I'm not even sure exactly what I said but, after a few minutes, she told me that she knew what she had to do. Yet another example of letting the Holy Spirit speak.

4. We all have little idiosyncrasies when it comes to words and often don't notice them until they are pointed out. I've been realizing lately how much use I make of modifiers to "soften" statements. Problem is, that can change the meaning of my comment. It's always interesting to realize things like that.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Lots more I could write about, but this is it for the moment. (There you go, Miss SF, a blog post... happy now? :-D )

Been a while... whoops

Lots going on in my life at the moment...so I haven't blogged in a couple of weeks. Sorry :(


CB2 came to visit last weekend. It was really wonderful to see some friends from school. I hadn't realized just how much I missed spending time with people from SHU until I had the chance. So many inside jokes and memories. It was also great showing them around "my" city. Their enthusiasm helped me appreciate many of the things I take for granted about living here. Every time they stopped to take a picture of some building or another I was struck with the thought "yes, that is a beautiful building." Because I live here, it can be hard to see the beauty around me because I hurry past these same buildings every day on my way to work, the store, Mass, etc. We also had the chance to see I Vespri Siciliani by Verdi at the Hungarian State Opera. I realized how spoiled I've gotten working at GGO because I found the production to be uninspired. It wasn't bad, just nothing spectacular, especially in terms of staging and costumes. Also, one of the leads was having a bad day... I can't call those sounds "cracks" they were more like earthquakes.

Work has been interesting - some issues with a co-teacher not taking the time to tell me what she was teaching, or that she wouldn't be in class. Thankfully, these seem to be working out. I've also started working at the foundation's first kindergarten. It's such a treat to be there. The children are so well-behaved and everything is very organized... but then, compared to the other, this has been open for many years so it's no surprise. Additionally, I've been working on writing the music curricula for Years 5-7. So far, that consists of translating the Hungarian curricula so that I know what they are supposed to be learning there before I decide what to teach in the English half. One thing I want to do for certain is add more creativity to the lessons. In their current form (which isn't the teacher's choice.. it's the national curriculum) the lessons aren't particularly engaging and I can't blame the kids for not being interested. Hopefully, I can help change that even if just a little.

Blogging

"You've gotta dance like there's nobody watching,
Love like you'll never be hurt,
Sing like there's nobody listening,
And live like it's heaven on earth."
--William W. Purkey

I am realizing how much I enjoy blogging. The chance to think things through while putting them into words can be very cathartic. Because of that, I tend to just write without caring much about what my readers may think. Those that know me well know how much I wear my heart on my sleeve. It's rarely hard to tell what my opinion of something is. This blog is no different. Maybe I share too much. Sometimes it's hard to tell. Before I post, I often wonder "will this be the post that goes overboard? Is the one that goes too far into the realm of TMI? Will people think differently of me after reading this one?" In the end, I rarely change things though. So many times I don't do or say things because I'm scared. Of looking different, of sounding different, of saying the wrong thing, of doing something stupid. This blog is one place where I refuse to be ruled by that fear.

No one is forced to read this. If I say something that offends, makes one uncomfortable, is awkward, or convinces someone I'm nuts, that's not my intention. This is just who I am. Recently, there was an incident on Facebook where someone defriended me after I defended some of my most cherished beliefs from their ridicule. In a case like that, I have to think that I won't be missing much without them. If anyone reads this blog and does something similar, that's sad, but it won't change who I am. And, how I write is simply part of who I am.

Confusion

Sometimes I wonder where I'm going... and if it's the right direction. Before getting this job offer in the spring, I had no idea what I was going to do. I was rejected from every graduate program I applied for. I wasn't sure how much a part of my life I wanted music to be. I knew I couldn't stay in Greensburg or move back to Steubenville but didn't know where I should go. All types of ideas were floating around in my brain, some more considered than others. Going back to school somewhere else and getting my masters (or a second bachelors) in theology or history was an idea that just didn't fly. Dealing with college freshman again wasn't something I wanted to do nor was paying a ridiculous amount of money for a degree which would be hardly more useful than the Sacred Music and Voice Performance ones I was finishing. I contemplated moving to another city and getting a "crap" job at McDonalds or Walmart while I explored the musical opportunities there. The problem with that option was needing a job before I moved somewhere and not being able to apply to those places long distance. After requesting information and considering, I had two very positive phone interviews with an admissions counselor at a cooking school in Illinois. Their baking and pastry diploma only takes a year and would give me a realistic and reliable career while still incorporating some creativity. In the end, it didn't matter because I got this job teaching in Budapest.

In general, I'm very happy where I am. My job is steady, full time, salaried, in a city I love, and somewhat related to the field I studied. In that regard, I am so much luckier than many (if not most) of my friends. Teaching is getting easier. My co-workers/co-teachers are generally awesome. The kindergarten should be settling down again after a major upheaval. (In a nutshell... one of the other teachers threw a massive fit, insisted she "couldn't work with her co-teacher," and rather than being told to shape up, six of us had our jobs rearranged. The saddest part for me is the fact that my old class now has one girl with her mom as a teacher, one girl with her grandma - the one who threw the fit - as a teacher, and six precious toddlers with no one. I'm not suggesting that the other children will be completely ignored but it's in no way a healthy situation.) I'm readjusting to life in Budapest. My Hungarian is getting better. Today, I even participated in a survey on Guru - a Turo-Rudi offshoot - in Auchan (similar to Walmart). Next Friday, I'll be seeing my first show in Budapest since getting back - Mozart! - at the operetta theater.

What's the problem, then? Sometimes I still don't know if I'm in the right place. I miss singing. It has been a full six months since I sang anything more extensive than Mass or music with the kids. Teaching the older kindergarten kids is something I feel completely unprepared for. Before the mess, I was with the baby group which was great because I had worked with that age group before. Now, with the kids preparing for school, I'm lost. The upper elementary kids are a handful - to put it VERY nicely - as well. It's hard to teach with one of the year 7s lying on the desk and doing everything he can to distract everyone. I'm pretty sure that year 7 doesn't like me after the singing test on Tuesday. Of the four students that I tested (in Hungary, not every student does every test/assignment... it's strange) there was one F, one D, and two C's. Being this far away from my friends and family is hard - especially with Thanksgiving and Christmas getting closer. Fighting the "if only"s can be really difficult some days.