Re: hungary

From: ef (
Date: Mon Jul 31 2000 - 22:51:20 PDT

>Jes do it ef...

and boyohboy... what stories i could tell if i did it, huh!

well, things are looking up... a friendamine in budapest is a
reporter or some such thing on hungarian radio... she says she will
send me a letter of invitation for a reportage on my magnificentness
which would entitle me to an airfaire ticket from the art-benevolent
organization. if i can get it all there before friday, when the jury

with that, i can pull it off.

her name is brezina kinga... in hungarian the first names come last.
so in english, kinga brezina. she's a real bigboned gal with flaming
red curls and a grand sense of humour. all hungarians love absurdity.

i met her that time i was there for four months. we met and were
insta-pals. hung out a lot, to the consternation of her then
boyfriend, the not-so-ex-(it-turned-out)-junkie. he sure was a whiny

she sends me funny emails, and the whinyjerk ain't around no more.
tho she did have another whinyjerk for a while. i think whinyjerks
really like women like kinga. cause she is all energy, redcurls

my other friend in hungary is attila the poet. he's a gypsy, the guy
who wrote "foreword" in nwhq. which i translated kinda horribly. it
much much more harrowing in hungarian, you know, the absurdity
factor. also works for tragedy.

attila is ahm, intense. bitter. bighearted, kind and bitter. he's
great to be around except when he drinks. cause he broods. that's
putting it mildly. when he gets like that, it's all black hate. his
wife orsolya is kinda like kinga tho with black hair. but attila is
no whinyjerk. attila is a great poet.

so both kinga and the attilas want me to stay with them in budapest.
i said, attila, are your kids still constantly at eachothers throats.
well, he said, since you were here last we had another one. and yes,
he said. aha, said i. then maybe i'll go stay with kinga.

he got real pissed off at that. i guess he went off to drinkandbrood again.

also, i want to visit an oldlady. she who wrote me the letter after
my mom dies. she wrote, you have to come and see me so i can tell you
stories about your mother, about how great she was. they were old
friends. my mother was very strong, then. so i want to hear those

i want to do these things too, besides the you know, the family-legend thing.

maybe i am trying to make a history for myself. seeing as i am all
alone in the present world. i mean, i have lotsa friends and stuff
but no history.


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