but...

after a wonderful conversation with another transcontinental friend, one who also lacks the veritable magic of female friends close at hand, and then a short chat with Sam, (could any two people be further away?) I feel buoyed.
And empowered (is that a very wanky word) to face Budapest tomorrow, and not despair. How many times must I remind myself, that this was my choice?
And it's not such a bad choice. There are crunchy wedges and a warm bed with clean linen and a film. Savouring the last hours of Sunday. Somewhere here lurks the luckiest girl in the world :)

There was some tired, faded beauty in the air today, something like the first day of spring in a world full of lengthening shadows. We went for a run, which was amazing, and lay in the balmy sunshine, but I felt the nagging tug of 'thisisnotwhatIwant'... yes, it is beautiful, and calm, and good for my soul but not good enough.

Yesterday was truly fantastic though. After promising me the services of a black rugby team (oh Daryl where art thou?) Balint surprised me with an hour long massage, at the place where his sister goes. After the intial shock of having to almost completely disrobe in front of the elderly massaging gent (who also stripped to his singlet) I let myself sink into the pleasure. It was wonderful. And then leaden sleepiness took over as soon as we got home and up to bed.

It was a wonderful weekend, don't get me wrong, but the frustration was rife in the air as soon as we got back to Budapest. What's wrong with this little country? And more importantly, what's wrong with me, and where did all that stored up fizzing love go?

I have a story in my head aching to get out...so tonight I'm going to write it out of my system, and then watch the godfather :)

...where lithe lianas coil

I was thinking of this line from My Country, and I had some warm coloured oils left on my palette, so I began to paint trees and lots of green...I don't think I rightly managed the lianas, but they're there in my head.
I haven't had a drop of alcohol for 6 weeks and I haven't cried for being homesick, but when I'm on my own, on a gorgeous evening like tonight, and my work is more or less done, and the apartment's clean and I've got quiet hours to myself, it comes and it settles. And I can't chase away the questions when they come - what if B doesn't like home when he sees it?
I think increasingly often of school and people back home.
Manna's getting married, soon they'll all be paired off permanently (not like my marriage I know) and we'll all be that little bit more grown up.

A stark white ring-barked forest
All tragic to the moon,
The sapphire-misted mountains,
The hot gold hush of noon.
Green tangle of the brushes,
Where lithe lianas coil,
And orchids deck the tree-tops
And ferns the warm dark soil.

Is it spring yet? I want to be able to walk barefoot and feel the crackling heat on the back of my neck, have my skin stretch under dried salt. I long for home, that's the long and the short of it.
And as the longing grows, so does my love and patience for Budapest dwindle. I don't want to be angry (being angry at inanimate objects is silly, being angry at a city is insane!) and I don't want to brush over what made me come here in the first place.

I stood at the back of the trolley bus on the way to work today and watched the streets flit by and all I could think, was that they looked so grey this winter morning, so full of dissatisfaction and grime. Staid, and hopeless. But then I put Slayer on, and things got a little better.

This weekend we're up to Szekesfehervar again, I'm looking forward to having family around. Even if they're not mine :)

There may be further woes with the tax office, this year may yet turn out to be financially difficult and of course things in Hungary are bound to piss me off at least once a day. But I made the decision to quit work at the embassy and it has made me feel honestly lighter.
I have started humming in the street, and smiling at dogs (or god forbid squealing at pugs and shouting I loooooeeevvveeee youuu) and feeling like I have the luxury to plan.

I will start my PhD, I will paint, run, cook, write and breathe. It sounds funny, but I actually haven't had time in what feels like an age, and it has made me feel old and tired, and I didn't like that feeling at all.

I slept until almost nine today, and I woke up feeling really Saturday, and it's a great feeling. There are pools of sunshine outside, and Aaron has resurfaced in my life and everything is just good. I'm not imagining that everything will be perfect forever, but for now it's so important to value what is good.

And now, off to market...

Hope shmope

I know the system shits on everyone, it wrings out the last ounce of soul out of everyone in this fucking country who isn't prepared to cheat in one way or another. You might have guessed, I've just come from the tax department.
So, I know the system shits on everyone, but that's precious little consolation, when it's shitting on me with gusto. I don't know if it's because I lack that highly prized deep red passport, and only possess our lowly blue one and a big sign on my ID card that says FOREIGN, or if it's because the state has decided to make it impossible for everyone, but I'm furious. Furious and fed up and fucking sad.
What I actually wanted to do today, was get a self-employed tax number, so I could give invoices for things like translation and that rather lucrative 10 minute studio jobby. But no, I need to take documents to prove that I can do these things to a JP (!!!!) pay a rack of money, then take the JP's letter to the tax department and hope they give me the number. But alas the tax number, that elusive panacea to all my financial woes is only available for a limited number of professions. Journalism and studio work not possible.
So how can I invoice for those? Oh you have to start your own business... (I won't go into the damn financials of that)...
So that's where I'm at now, hanging my legs over my canoe stuck up shit crick, dreaming of the paddle I left back in Freo. Fucking hell.

We're off to Vienna in a few hours...I hope the Austrian squirrels bring my mood back.