Zsolt and the floppy hat

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

Zsolt has graduated. šŸ™‚Ā  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 LĆ”szlo 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.

ā€œHow you doing?ā€

ā€œFine you?ā€

ā€œNot bad.ā€

ā€œOkay then . . .ā€

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; ā€œCatherine, you’re working again?ā€ and I say, ā€œNo, no,ā€ because this isn’t work. It’s total play.

Ah! Too late – they just said it. ā€œCatherine a dolgozike, work.ā€Ā  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)

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 ā€˜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+,Ā  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 ā€˜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 ā€˜local tweets’ ā€˜celebrity tweets’ ā€˜prominent tweets’ etc (there should be a section called, ā€˜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.

Get a haircut and a real job

It’s the fifteenth of July, and I’m starting to think about work. This summer is dedicated to vacation, and there’s really no point in applying anywhere till Zsolt finds a job himself and we suss out the local area (because neither of us want to make 1 hour commutes everyday). But the reality of reality* is slowly lurking at the back of my mind.

This weekend Zsolt, his brother-in-law, sister Ā (Berci and Anita) and I are going to a small Hungarian town named MezőcsĆ”t. (Looked up on Wikipedia, MezőcsĆ”t is quoted as being: ā€œa small town in Borsod-AbaĆŗj-ZemplĆ©n county, Northern Hungary, 35 kilometers from county capital Miskolc.ā€) Though I’m sure it’s much more than that. Firstly, it’s Berci’s home town. Home grown country boy. And secondly, it’s small town living complete with pigs, chicken coops, hard alcohol and thermal caves. The weekend should be quite an adventure. And I imagine, not fit for vegetarians. (The meatĀ  produced from this family is incredible: sausages, kobasz, bacon, rind, ham everything. They use all the pig.)

So we’ll be going there this weekend. And then, ticking in the back of my head, will be Zsolt’s upcoming graduation (here comes the stupid floppy hat for my Dr Zsolt!) plus that inevitable question: do you have jobs yet?

Ay. No.

I’ve told Zsolt our standard answer is as follows: ā€˜we’re still on vacation’ (though secretly looking online and thinking, just as soon as we finish grad, to begin drafting Zsolt a resume . . . the man has been a professional student up until this point in his life. PhDs are very impressive, but along with that piece of paper, another scrap of paper (i.e. the resume) is required.)

And yet – even though ā€˜work’ is starting to nibble on my toes as I float across lake Balaton – I’m not entirely worried. Things work out. One way or another, things will work out. They always do. Zsolt thinks I’m ridiculous for assuming everything will be peaches and cream, but I can’t suppress my optimistic tendency. Besides, when haven’t things worked out? Okay, I personally have worked a number of crappy jobs in the past (experience building), but I’ve also worked some wonderful jobs as well. And frankly, one slice of experience raised me up for another, and so things have worked out. Just like I’m certain they will in Ottawa.

In honour of these ā€˜future flashes’ I’ve started trying to improve my French. All the lovely placements in Ottawa require bilingual speakers (hey, I can do French, but to call myself fluently bilingual would be a generous, very excessively way out and probably too much, falsehood.) However, bit by bit things are refreshing and I’m optimistic (again) it will improve more as time ticks forward.

Anyhow, we’re at that limbo stage of our careers – where things will happen, and yet, haven’t happened. In the meanwhile I really ought to avoid Monster.ca, because it’s depressing. Instead I’ll try to focus on this weekend’s adventure in the Hungarian country side. And let this summer be as it was intended: a vacation.

*PS – This opens onto a fairly interesting subject. What will happen if my possible future employers Google my name and ā€˜oh!’ find breast cancer everything. Am I worried about discrimination? You bet your sweet ass I’m worried about discrimination. And yet, at the start of my blog – it felt absolutely impossible to hide the truth of my reality. Secrets were not healthy or supportive. So I made a choice between anonymity and saying my name aloud. To this day I don’t regret the decision, but do worry how it might impact my future. Will employers reject me? Will possible donors/adoptive agencies/birth mothers reject me? I don’t know. All I know is at this moment I’m cancer free.Ā  And anyone who discriminates because of my history is not someone with whom I need to work. That’s for sure. I’m bursting with good stuff to offer – cancer is part of my story, but it’s not the longest chapter. Ā (Okay, I’ll get off my high horse now. It’s a touchy subject. ) Things will, I suppose, work out.