50-60 k thoughts

Allegedly we have 50-60 thousand thoughts a day, most of them the same as yesterday and the day before. I wonder how many new thoughts I have a day? And does it count if I read about something new or it has to occur to me? I am bored recently a lot. Could be, because I get a whole lot less new impressions in Budapest than I used to in New York.

The other day I talked to a young couple at our joint meeting with the Biochemistry Department at a pub on the Pest side. The guy was 26 and just flanked his neurobiology exam, the girl was 20 and quite beautiful. They could not fathom how I could have left New York for the sake of Budapest. I told them New York was very stressful in the end. And Budapest? Is not it, too? I said no. It is only depressing. At which we had a hearty laugh.

Poets again

A few weeks ago my favorite poet, Edu, promised me to fix up my apartment. He is a great guy and writes beautiful poems. He had a tragic youth hood, amounting to a Greek tragedy almost. In light of that insight (he shared with me on that occasion) he turned out amazingly well-adjusted. Yesterday he called me again, and promised me to come around on Wednesday morning and fix my built-in cabinet's disjointed door (he doesn't know yet that my furnace is misbehaving, too and I also have 2 mirrors, 2 towel racks to put up, and two shelves to assemble). Don't forget your word, Edu! I'll teach him English in turn so he can read all my badmouthing about him in the future (or praise).

Dark chocolate coated cherries

Yes, I was eating them. They are just too delicious to resist! Yesterday I was reading Noisy's blog about losing weight 5 weeks in a row and got so inspired that I rushed to the gym and did lots of goddamn exercise. I got on the stepmaster for 6 minutes (53 calories - or kcal?) then ran 600 meters on the running board, did go through just about every exercise machine in the room, went in the weight room and did lots of exercise (like leaning forward, to the side, etc with two 3kg weights in my hands) and finally unwound in the Finnish sauna and the steam room. I saw the masseur, a cute, pleasant blond guy in the steam and he told me about the massages he does and it turns out he also does "room service", i.e. besides the health club he also comes to one's place and in that case he costs only 3,500 Forints for an hour (about $17). I am very tempted to try it as I used to have massages beforehand and they are very beneficiary for your general wellbeing.

But, back to the cherries. I just had to have like half of the (100g) bag, they were so delicious. I should get a scale like Noisy does. Although sometimes they are really useless - I measured myself twice in the gym yesterday - in the beginning I was about 67kg (with training clothes but no shoes on) and after the saunas when I measure "only" 64 kilos. Felt fairly dehydrated though. In any case, I don't think I weight more than I did yesterday afternoon but feel a bit guilty about eating sweets when I am trying to lose weight. I just want to see the results of all that hard exercise, dammit!

Poets we hang out with

It seems I am getting to know more and more poets. Till now I was viewing them with suspicion and didn't quite think they should play any role in my life. When I was 30 I had a boyfriend for a while who was a traffic engineer (or if there is no such thing then think of the closest profession this description evokes) and lived together with his ex-wife, her new husband and the child of the latter two. All in glorious harmony in a beautiful house owned by my then boyfriend, Gyula. It was an idyllic setting. And he wrote poems, too. And played them on his guitar (after adding some tunes, I guess).

Ah, but it didn't last. Soon, Gyula didn't seem to appreciate me that much. But I made friends with her ex-wife and her new family. We are still friends actually, though sadly Gyula is not with us, earthlings, anymore. Andrea, a sharp woman with a sometimes exceedingly sarcastic demeanor, once told me to imagine Gyula as he recites his own poems while playing his music on his guitar. We had to laugh, it was such a funny image, so ridiculous. I soon broke up with Gyula, and then thought I can leave poets in my past and their poems in the dust.

However, my sister is also a poet. Well, an amateur one. Thanks God, Andrea never let her recite her poems to her (as they became friends, too) so this way she can't sharpen her tongue at the expense of my poor sister. To be honest, I don't read her poems much, so I can't tell if they are good. But I discovered, poets are fun (sometimes) to hang out with. They have a soul for sure.

Tonight we hung out with 3 of her fellow poets and they were pretty nice bunch. And the hostess, Morci has a sweet son, a teenager, who wants to be an actor. He is apparently used to his mother's idiosyncratic friends as he didn't faze for a sec when Morci showed up with the three of us. Later a guy (also a poet) came over, too.

I think I have to check on my cats now.

New developments on the cat front

Hello Universe! I have two cats these days, Macika and Babci. This is Macika.

Domestic bliss

on the kittykat front. One of the kitties, Potyi, is a little kicking machine. Her favorite pastime is to lick her siblings clean. And herself. And the people around her. She seems to have an oral fixation. How far would've Freud gotten with her on his famous couch? :-)