Category Archives: Life

Zsolt and the floppy hat

Posted in Life, Love by

While my tea cools I’ll tell you about yesterday.

Zsolt has graduated. 🙂  You should have seen in him that gown – the man is already really tall, but drap a gown with vertial panels of maroon and blue on the guy, and suddenly he’s a freaking giant. Topping off this outfit was a large (like your Christmas dinner plates large) floppy, circular and velvet black hat with a tassle in the middle. No one looked spectacular in that hat – why they make Doctors and Professors wear it can only be chalked up to history, because certainly it’s in no why fashionable (or flattering).

So, adorned in his gowns, we then hit up a photography/party with his school at the ORC (Optoelectronics Research Center). This was lovely because many of our friends were there – five years of a PhD with these folks, so we’ve become rather good friends. Everyone started at the same time, and everyone is finishing (roughly) around the same time too. To imagine not having these folks in the same city feels strange, just like it does with my other incredible Southampton (Hampshire) friends.

[In the meanwhile, except for grad yesterday, I keep running off to meet with people. Anna, Zsolt’s mother, is amazed at how social I am . . . though I’m not actually that social, I’m just in a hurry – there’s really no time!]

With the bunch in a group, along with some professors and tutors, pictures were taken. Wow, they did look good in their stupid outfits – I was impressed. And proud. Pride was lapping over the edges of my smile and splashing over everyone. This was my husband graduating, and he’s done so well. I know the ups, the downs, the frustrations, the victories – his story is partly also my story and we’ve gone through a load of stuff (good, bad, the unremarkable) together. To see him yesterday all dressed up and with his class was really a great feeling. Hopefully (apparently) he also felt quite fine.

Photos were followed by champagne and strawberries. Lovely. Unfortunately due to not having lunch – I was essentially rather buzzed after one glass of champagne (a lasting chemo after-effect) – and while people say alcohol loosens them up, it simply unscrews my head. Therefore, I ditched the champagne and ate three bowls of strawberries (drown in cream), which did the immediate trick of restoring my balance.

More photos, more conversation, more enjoyment.

Anna and LĂĄszlo managed alright considering they don’t speak any English. (Actually, that’s not strictly true because between the three of us a conversation can be held –yes! finally – however it involves making ourselves look slightly idiotic with word fragments and hand motions, and so, of course, they didn’t want to play charades yesterday with the director of the ORC. Zsolt translated.)

And it was off to the ceremony.

Ahh so long. We had excellent seats, but it meant arriving perhaps a bit too early. So, after an hour of waiting – the procession began and everyone (staff, chancellor, porter, etc) took their seats. There were plenty of tipping floppy hats and speaches. One nice looking older man became a fellow, and another – after a long bio of his life read by another floppy hat professor – was given a doctorate in science.

Zsolt looked wonderful getting his degree. He had removed his hat and ‘hood’ and the porter fellow walked with him over to the chancellor (who was also wearing robes, but his looked very grand with a bumblebee gold and black striping across the front). Then Zsolt knelt down in front of the chancellor, who put the hood across Zsolt’s shoulders. Next, Zsolt stood up and put his hands togeather as if praying. The chancellor placed his hands over Zsolt’s and they had a small, whispered, conversation.

“How you doing?”

“Fine you?”

“Not bad.”

“Okay then . . .”

No, it was more about ‘what are you doing next’ and stuff. Anyhow, after this, Zsolt walked off the stage (and since he was one of the last of the people I knew graduating, my interested followed him off the stage as well). Then it was about another hour of clapping and speeches.

But enough with the details! Zsolt is Dr Zsolt, and I’m just bursting with pride. A big gold star for my husband, cause he was great yesterday and he’s been great these past five years. Way to go Zsolt!

And now I’d better get off this computer. The family is waking up, and each time they see me typing they say; “Catherine, you’re working again?” and I say, “No, no,” because this isn’t work. It’s total play.

Ah! Too late – they just said it. “Catherine a dolgozike, work.”  I’m totally busted.

(Apologizes for misspelling the Hungarian words – Zsolt isn’t awake yet to check my mistakes.)

Getting high off social media (& tea)

Posted in After treatment, Bumpboobs, Fun, Life, Writing by

So I’m totally going to write a real post one of these days soon (considering Zsolt is about to graduate, that’s certainly something to write about), but just wanted to go on a little about how much FUN I’m having with RSS feeds.

Why I’ve always ignored that little ‘RSS’ icon posted across the land of blogs is a mystery. Really, the power of observation should have tipped me off that something good is happening (somewhat like linkedin, which I will, eventually, join . . . though with twitter, facebook, two (sometimes three) blogs, and google+,  another account to check feels slightly annoying. Maybe I’ll create it, then ignore it. . . . though I’ve heard linkedin has different connotations than facebook (family) or twitter (BC community) – it’s about professional engagement, or something.)

Anyhow : to do, look into linkedin.

But I diverge!

RSS feeds are an actual pleasure in the world of social media obligations. This is because it does a giant group hug presentation of all the blogs I’m reading. So each morning, I open my lovely reader, and before me is a list of every new post. No more having to remember each URL, no more subscribing to email notifications . . . everything is here, everything is easy.

I. Like. Easy.

Lately there’s so much talk about social media – and you know, I enjoy the conversation. Clearly (and saying this shows how ‘behind the times’ I currently am) social media is the next step in marketing and advertising, which has always held a fancy for me. Ever since that single Mass Communications class in university, first year, I’ve found the area fascinating. There’s so much PSYCHOLOGY behind communication, and now social media (live-feed communication) is on our phones, in our laptops, on the news . . . even in the freaking newspaper with ‘local tweets’ ‘celebrity tweets’ ‘prominent tweets’ etc (there should be a section called, ‘Catherine’s tweets’ – ha! I’d talk about which ice cream I’d sampled that day. Hazelnut topped with chocolate and cream.)

Gosh, if I had a single inclination to go back in time and re-do university (which I don’t) I’d totally study communications. It’s fascinating.

Anyhow, so here I am this morning with my cup of green tea, scanning the daily blogs. [Coincidently, bumyboobs can easily be added to such readers since it’s WordPress. Yes, I just plugged myself.] Maybe it’s the tea that’s got me so excited. The morning caffeine punch has just kicked in.

In any case, I’m off to do a little reading.

Zsolt as Piros and Vörös

Posted in Fun, Life, Love, Travel by

You may have noticed (or may not) the several-day gap between this and the last post. Well, honestly, the weather is warm and we’re by the lake, and it’s so lovely in the water . . . all my ‘things’ have been neglected (blogs, twitter, writing, narrative nippling).

My daily ritual of wake, eat, write, surf (the internet), workout, eat, surf/blog/tweet/get to business has been substituted with wake, eat, swim, eat, swim, eat, swim. And in between there’s an awful lot of laying on the grassy beach and playing UNO.

But today I’m popping by to say hello and teach you two interesting differences with the Hungarian concept of RED.

Hungarians have two words for red. Piros and Vörös. I’d like to use Zsolt, my handsome husband, to illustrate the difference.

On Saturday, a day that struck 35 degrees in the sun, Zsolt and I went for a swim in the water immediately after lunch. To be fair he was protesting this activity, saying “you shouldn’t swim for thirty minutes after eating.” and I was calling him a giant-baby, asserting that it “isn’t swimming when the water is only two feet deep.” Plus I was desperate to escape the suntrap porch of his Balaton cottage and get our asses to the water for a cool-down post goulash lunch.

Anyhow, we went into the water for a very ‘quick dip’ since it was midday, we had no sunscreen, and we’d just eaten. This was mission to cool down.

Except that it’s really fun in the water. And two minutes turned to five, which turned to ten, which turned to about 20 minutes in the water.

So while I was safe with my t-shirt (Zsolt’s giant nightshirt, actually, which I wore to protect the area of my body exposed to the earlier radiotherapy of February), he had just a little too much sun.

Saturday afternoon, post mid-day swim, Zsolt had a slight burn across his chest. This general colour of red is called piros. Piros can apply to apples, bicycles, swimming trunks, red vending machines, etc. It is your average red.

The next day was also hot. And so, again, we went for another – but this time, really seriously no joking – ‘quick dip’ in Balaton. Again I wore a t-shirt and Zsolt went bare skinned (by the by, all this time I’m there saying, “Babe, wear a t-shirt” but he’s like, “no way, not cool.” Which is true, I do look like a dork in this giant-sized white t-shirt, but at this point in my life I can hardly give a shit.)

Quick dip. With sunblock applied.

Half an hour later, we’re back on the beach to dry off. Zsolt looks down and asks if I think he looks more red. No, I tell him, you’re fine.

But did you know that sometimes skin burns slowly? Like, the extent of the damage isn’t immediately visible?

Anyhow – Vörös is Hungarian for a really rich, deep kind of red, and generally reserved for special entities. Blood is vörös. Wine is vörös. Zsolt is now vörös.

And today we’re sitting in the shade midday; he’s wearing the t-shirt, and every time I go to touch him (lovingly) on the shoulder, all I get in return is “Ow!” The man has turned into a human lobster. A vörös lobster.

So there’s a quick lesson in Hungarian language. Piros vs Vörös. And a good reason to wear your t-shirt in the water. Cuddling is cool, even if t-shirt’s aren’t, which makes looking like a dork worth the fashion faux-pas.