Tag Archives: rants

Few Thoughts on Leaving Hungary.


I come back to the states in 6 days. There’s so much emotion that goes into that one sentence. But this year has made me more emotional than I ever have before. I think when you’re living overseas (especially when you’re a single woman), emotions are amplified by a million. I’m extremely excited to leave, completely sad that I’m leaving. I’m scared for numerous reasons and dreading traveling. I’m in the process of getting things done and getting the last few things. But sitting here, writing. I’m getting the anxious pit in my stomach. I know with how rough these last 10 months have been, a lot of people won’t understand my hesitation for leaving. But no one has really seen the whole story. No one has seen the little moments. Or heard the questions and one liners that were so perfectly spoken by my students. Or had the bonding moments (superficial or not) with the random people that have been a huge part of my life for 300 days. No one knows how many times I’ve asked myself why am I here or the times I’ve thought, this is why I’m here. Yes, I have consciously been aware of how long it will be until I go home in the sense that I will be going back to a place I’ve known my whole life. But now I am also consciously aware of how Budapest has a piece of my heart and that I will leave a little bit of me here and have that hole replaced with Hungary.

There’s still a lot of pain in me. There’s been big events that I’ve missed back home, I’ve practically ruined one of the best friendships I’ve ever had. I’m going to carry those things with me for the rest of my life. There’s a lot of guilt. I can’t change what’s been done or said. I get that. I wish I could change some things though but I knew that coming to Hungary meant that life was going to be tough and life was going to be real and I was going to miss things and relationships would change. Sometimes terminate. (None of my relationships have terminated. Don’t worry. Some have changed dramatically and you know who you are and I’m sorry. I’m trying.) But the thing is, I’ve never been a completely open person. I keep my emotions to myself so that other people can hurt. Until this year, that’s worked for me. I was able to deal under these circumstances. But this year, with emotions amplified, I can’t function like that. I won’t be able to function like I used to for a long time, if ever. I would have eventually come to that point without Hungary but moving here sped it up. I’m sure a lot of people have noticed a change in my blog. I’m writing a lot differently. I need to. I’m sure eventually I’ll get back to writing like I used to, but now this blog is more self-centered. Because I need to throw whatever is in me out into the universe. I can’t leave what’s going on in me inside. It’s why I’ve started journaling like crazy. It helps me get the emotion out.

I don’t know what people expect of me. I know some people will expect me to be the same Megan I’ve always been. I’m not. As much as I fake it, I’m not. There’s a lot more anxiety and much more insecurity and less confidence in some areas. There has been a lot of tears this year from me and there’s going to be a lot more. I’ve cried and will cry for other people and for me. But there will be people that understand. Mainly those who have experienced this themselves. Some others too but it will be harder for them to understand why more than one native English speaker is overwhelming or why going to a restaurant or going to a grocery store with more than one or two options is overwhelming. It’s a special circumstance I’m in, but I’ll get through it.

Yesterday was the last technical day of teaching. I didn’t do anything. One class gave me a picture of them and chocolate. They told me they loved me. I love them too. I didn’t expect to love these kids and this country as much as I do. I expected love but not this deep. It’s a reason I don’t want to leave. I have laughed and cried with and for these kids. How do I move on from that? How does anyone move on from that? I get told by people who have gone back after living overseas for a time and they tell me to give myself some time to heal and don’t put a time limit on it. Leaving in under a week, I realize that I will never completely heal from Hungary and I don’t want to. This country has helped shape me in a way that no one has expected.


Hungarian Language With a Small Rant.


I felt like my last post was a little scattered to me so lets see if I can get back into this blogging thing.

So last Sunday, after church, I spent time with a girl I went to orientation with. She’s in a town outside of the city at this more “American” school. We’re both here for a year. She’s here for a year because of the contract she has with the school in New York and I’m just staying for a year because, as of right now, that’s all I’m called to do. So we were talking. Her school makes her take language lessons so she learns Hungarian. Mine doesn’t. She was saying how she doesn’t really want to take these lessons because she’s going to be here for just a year. What’s the point? She mentioned that she can get along with just pointing. It’s been working just fine for her. I then started thinking.

She sounded so condescending. Like the Hungarian language wasn’t worth her time. She came to Hungary for a year. Obviously something was worth it in the country. Trying to communicate in the native language is not only polite but it’s so arrogant sounding. I feel, and whether I have succeeded or not is still to be determined, that I should try to fit in as much as possible. Now I’m teaching Hungarian students and not all her students are Hungarian. It’s different for me. She’s kind of in an American bubble. I’m not. I kind of need to learn some Hungarian. It helps me earn respect from my students. High schoolers are a hard group to impress, no matter where you are in the world. Some things don’t change. I get that Hungarian is a hard language so by the time we would get the hang of it we would leave. (there are 4 categories of language. 4 being the hardest to learn and that’s like Chinese. Hungarian is a 3 so it’s a hard language.) I just have a hard time seeing this like she does. We’re here with a Christian organization. They kind of like us to try to interact. The schools that we’re at don’t have to have us. I mean in my case, they need a native speaker so yeah they need me, but ultimately, they didn’t need to say yes when our company asked them to take us. To learn Hungarian, to me and at least a little, is a sign of respect and honor. I guess she’s not with Hungarians like I am so it’s completely different. Isn’t it? Or am I totally overreacting to this? I mean that’s happened before. I think that it’s happened at least a couple of times on this blog where I overreacted. So again, it’s possible that I’m overreacting.

So I didn’t even touch bilingual church did I? Oy. So. First time I went we were late and they were singing in Hungarian so I was like okay. Cool. I was like they have Hungarians lead worship. Then the worship leader starts praying in English without a Hungarian accent. Like it’s pretty American. What? Way to throw me off. Like I’m not thrown off with life to begin with. Then you turn out to be not Hungarian when I thought you were. Distrust……. Yeah, that’s a lie. I trust this place even though they throw me off.

I have also been taking an insane amount of naps here. First it was because of the jet lag. Now just because I got into the habit of taking naps. Especially on Sunday afternoons. The girl across the hall, also American we are the only 2 Americans at our school, looked at me last weekend and goes, “You really like your Sunday naps, don’t you?” Yes. I am turning into my one or both of my parents.

Good thing: I have a three-day weekend. Bad thing: Hungarians make it up on Saturday. Ugh. Well, at least I’ll get at least one day off next weekend right? Updates to come.



This is going to be a girly post. If you are male, I’m not saying you won’t enjoy this but it’s a long shot.

With the exception of when I was 2 and I had a bob, I have always been a girl with long hair. Shoulder length or longer. I like it that way. That’s the way it will be for the unforeseeable future. I really don’t mind my hair. I’m used to it. I’m a hair flipper so there’s that, it helps a girl flirt when necessary and let’s face it, not much flirting going on right now. (You hear that MJ? No flirting, no boys!) There are perks to having long hair. But recently, I’ve had a problem with my hair. And this might be a little thing but it’s a thing. Trust me. Bathing.

Usually, I take showers because that’s what I enjoy and I never realized this, but it’s less creepy for me. I’ve been sick with a cold the past couple of days and I’ve been a little achy, so I took a couple baths. Both times, I didn’t wash my hair, I just bathed and I forgot a hair tie. Now my hair is long like about halfway down my back and I’m a sloucher so it’s gonna touch the water. It kind of grosses me out that I’m bathing so all my yuckiness is in the water and, first of all, how weird is it that it’s supposed to be relaxing to sit in your own filth but then I have to have my hair touch this water. My hair, the hair on my head that I have always been picky about. I need something for my hair in this circumstance. NEED TOO. Luckily, I live with my parents that will get me my hair ties from across the hall in my room. Everything worked out for the best…..this time.

Then here’s a second thing that bugs me. Plain old washing my hair. In the sink or in the tub. No shower, no sitting in bathing. Just me, my hair, water, shampoo and conditioner. This goes along the same lines as bathing for me. No matter how clean that area is, my hair will always go straight for the drain. It’s a proven fact. It’s going to happen. Do you realize what goes down your drain? Yeah, the filth from you bath or if you’re a shower peeing person, your pee goes down there. Or if you wash your hair in the sink, your spit from your mouth when you brush your teeth goes there and your dirty hand water goes down there and that’s where my hair goes when I wash it. To the drain. So your drain is gross and since my hair is long, it goes down the drain, not just collects there, it wants to go down the drain. The drain is the closet to which my hair goes to Narnia. When I was little, I thought the drain would like pull my hair and drag me down into the depths of the unknown. Now it just creeps me out. Here’s what happens when I just wash my hair. I don’t even go near the sink. I go in the tub, yes in because my parents’ tub is very deep, and when I’m washing my scalp, my head is under the faucet, one hand is stabilizing myself and holding my hair, (which is trailing out of the hand) and the other hand is getting all the soap out. It’s a process that I’m not so fond of because no matter how hard I try my hair goes down the drain. I’m not even sure why just these two things bug me about hair. Actually, I take that back, it makes sense. I have a certain way I brush my hair, very particular how it’s cut and everything, of course I’m going to be picky on how my hair encounters with water.

So this subject of hair has been in my head for the past couple of days. So we’re going to continue with the project. My sister and I have always had longer hair. And until the last decade or decade and a half, my mom has too. Now it’s short around the ear length. And my dad likes the traditional look. He likes mom’s short hair that’s shorter and naturally a little curly and he like my sister’s and mine long, straight hair like it is. To prove this, let me tell you a story. In college, I would come home and have my lady that has cut my hair for years, cut my hair. So I come home during spring break and she cuts it. Not really noticeable when it’s down but when I put it up, it was noticeable. I’m a girl who has a hard time cutting any amount of hair off so it’s tough when I cut a noticeable amount off and it goes up in a pony tail the second I get home. So it was up in a pony tail and that night I was on all fours in the living room looking for a highlighter or something. Dad, who’s sitting right there, pulls on my hair. Mom reprimands him and says “Don’t do that, it’s tough enough for her to cut her hair, what are you doing?” “trying to make it longer.” Here’s another story. When my sister first moved out of the house she tells me (who was 12 at the time) in confidence that she’s going to dye her hair a lighter shade of blonde. She knows that mom and dad, dad in particular, won’t like it so she tells me (like so many other times growing up) “Don’t tell Mom and Dad”. She does it and mom and dad don’t say much because she’s out of the house but pretty sure dad wasn’t a fan. So he likes a classic, natural hairstyle.

Back to the REAL story here. The neighbor girl is graduating high school this spring, which is really weird for me because I remember her bald and in diapers and babysat her in high school. She’s got a shorter hair and styles it modernly. So we get the graduation announcement in the mail the other day. I’m looking at it and dad goes. “I don’t know, the way she did her hair. Looks like she went through a wind tunnel. Call me old-fashioned, but I don’t like it.” On her, I thought it was cute, but I see where dad’s coming from.

The last couple weeks I’ve told friend-ish acquaintance stories from church. Not this week. I’ve been sick and mom woke me up yesterday to ask if I was going to church and I responded with: “My face hurts.” Are you going though? “Mom my face hurts.” So you’re not going to church? “No.” Okay check the roast later. Yes mommy. I walk out a little later before she leaves and I go “My face hurts.” Yes, I get it. So no great story there. And my hand in marriage came up yesterday at work. AGAIN! There’s a CNA that keeps telling me, with people around, that I’m coming back with a guy. NO! Not what I’m going for, not happening.



I have flaws. As all do. One of my flaws is that I can be kind of an anxious or nervous person. I usually try not to let people see me anxious and I have several ways of dealing with it. Reading, art, writing, music, wondering around the house, daydreaming, fixing whatever’s wrong in my head. I tend to wonder a lot, especially when I’m at mom and dad’s. A lot has been going on and lately I find that I’m really restless and wondering a lot. The main thing I worry about is now out of my hands and as much as I hate that, I find it necessary. I can’t control everything.

Along those lines, tonight I was checking Facebook and one of the girls I’ve known since the third grade has 2 kids and she was talking about the father(s) and it ended with a hashtag that said Fear is for the Faithless. It’s one of those things that I think I’ve known my whole life but never really mentally recognized. I grew up in church and with stories like Noah and Thomas and Paul and all these people that stepped out into the unknown. The one thing that they all shared was that they had faith, they may have faltered and momentarily doubted and no doubt they had times they were scared or anxious but they all had faith enough to obey and listen. I’ve repeating that to myself all night while I’ve been wondering, faith is for the faithless. I know I have the faith for whatever happens next.

Then I started thinking about who I really am. I recently finished a book called Thr3e by Ted Dekker. There are three characters with definite personalities. There’s the almost overly innocent man with a rough past, his best friend who’s a very confident and smart girl and then there’s the lunatic. At the end of the book you realize how they’re all really connected and I started thinking about that and I tried to figure out which one I really identify with. Granted none of them have the anxiety or nervousness like I do but (and this might get a little “Breakfast Club” or anti that movie here) that I have been a specific person my whole life but I have a little bit of everything in me, qualifying me to be the person who can be brave enough to step out into the unknown like those in the Bible and be someone that will be talked about for generations to come. Not that being immortal in written form is what I’m looking for.

This isn’t necessarily a post that I had planned on writing. But since I was anxious and wondering wasn’t working for me and my hands were hurting from knitting, I decided to write what was in my head. I’m sure that with whatever happens with what I’m anxious about will be blogged about in some way, shape or form. We’ll see where my unknown takes me and see if I have enough faith to not be fearful. (something I’m always looking to do)

Something You Don’t Usually Hear from Me


I’m going to talk about something and it might be a little surprising coming from me and this topic has nothing to do with what Friday was. It’s love…..and books. But since I alluded to Valentine’s Day, let me have a mini-rant. I worked/orientated overnight on Friday. I’m single. Very single. And I was okay with Valentine’s this year. But when I got to work I got annoyed with how many people asked me if I was married or if I had “a man”. That phrase annoys me. Yes, you are in a relationship but that person isn’t necessarily yours. It sounds slave like to me and that is not what a relationship should be.

Anyway, love in books. It happens so fast, how can it be real? I know that most of the books I read are fiction and that the love portion of books help us believe again but really? Romeo and Juliet got married after less than a day of knowing each other, pretty sure that marriage would have been horrible in a few years. If the love wouldn’t have ended, the families would have made it miserable and then the babies would have come and it wouldn’t be pretty. Now I’m reading The Bronze Horseman and if that love didn’t pop up fast, I don’t know what did. It was like they walked together a few times and BAM, Alexander loves her.

Yeah, there are books that take their time with the love story but that’s not what sells books. I get frustrated with books every once in a while for not being predictable, love story or not. There’s 2 people that hate each other, they’re thrown together and have to deal with each other and then by the end of the book they’re in love and they’re thinking about having babies. I mean, have it end with them separating at the end with them still hating each other and glad they’re getting away from each other, don’t have the person with a terminal illness die. Have me surprised with who the killer is. I don’t care, throw me a curve ball. It’s frustrating.

I know me being critical of love is kind of a new thing on this blog but I want real life and not make believe at this point in life. I know that there are people that fall in love fast but I just really want a stable love when I’m reading right now.

So catch up on life. Last weekend I went and hung out with one of my oldest friends and my first college roommate. We tried watching “Don Jon”. That didn’t last long. That’s way more of a guy movie that it is a 3 women movie. I also decided that I need more unattractive friends. These girls I hung out with are definitely down to earth but it still cuts a girl’s ego when the majority of her friends are good looking. And my friend got a Chihuahua who, we found out, is obsessed with our other friend’s feet.

I also went to this little town last weekend to a single-women’s Valentine Banquet. My high school Sunday School teacher was speaking. We were getting out and one of the ladies I went with said something about maybe there’s a cover charge to get in this thing and she was joking because it was well-known it was free. I countered with “But aren’t we with the band? We get in free.” I guess that was funny because it was the comment that was talked about all night and being talked about the next day. I didn’t think it was that funny.

So last night I was hanging out at home for a while and “Wheel of Fortune” was on and the first puzzle came on and I solved it and I yell “I won Wheel of Fortune!” My parents think I’m crazy. Pretty sure they don’t know what to do with me. I’m grown so their job is hypothetically done until I get married, if I get married. We (my mother and I) also went to “Saving Mr. Banks”. It was quite good and I enjoyed it.

As I mentioned, I am reading The Bronze Horseman. I’ve heard a lot of good things about the book but at this moment I’m having a lot of mixed feelings about it. There’s some good writing in it but Tatiana is kind of stupid and sometimes I kind of want to punch her. It’s just a gut reaction. Poor girl is fictional and I want to punch her. Must be a tough life.

Luke and Violet Book Review


First-Catch up on my life? Yes? Okay. MJ and I have been going back and forth with this story and we can only write 15 sentences of the story and we can’t have it for more than 5 days and we have to give a rule for the other person to follow in their section of the story. It’s epic. There’s awkward pictures and a Steve and blackmail. That description doesn’t even give it justice. I have also learned through this process that I should not be writing when I’m tired because I start mixing up things like there, they’re and their. That bothers me.

I finished my CNA classes and I passed the class and now I’m orientating and then I take the state test to actually be certified.

So I’m orientating on nights tonight, so I work from 11:45-8:15, sleeping, going an hourish away tomorrow night to go to something, then Sunday, I’m going an hour in another direction to hang out with a friend. So much for a relaxing weekend.

Valentine’s Day is coming up. Boo. I’m anti-Valentine’s Day. If I were dating someone and in a serious relationship, I wouldn’t want a specific day just to show our love. Show me in the little things all the time. Open my door, tell me I’m having a good hair day, (because talking about my hair is the way to my heart, I’m kind of vain about it) hold my hand, things like that. I’m easily impressed. No need for a whole day of love. For me it’s not necessary. I’m low maintenance. Anyway.

I started my thyroid medicine this week. Knowing that something is wrong with me like my thyroid kind of bothers me. I also have eczema and knowing that there’s something I’m doing that I can’t control is unnerving every once in a while. I know that both things are very manageable but I’m kind of funny about it and I want it fixed. But I’m working on this.

Book time. I read The Destiny of Violet and Luke by Jessica Sorensen. This book is in the same series as the Callie and Kayden books I talked about last year. I’ve read other books/series by Sorensen and they haven’t impressed me as much. Here is a synopsis of the book. (there will be spoilers after the synopsis)

Luke Price’s life has always been about order, control, and acting tough on the outside. For Luke, meaningless relationships are a distraction-a way to tune out the twisted memories of his childhood. He desperately wishes he could forget his past, but it haunts him no matter what he does.

Violet Hayes has had a rough life. When she was young, she was left with no family and the memory of her parents’ unsolved murders. She grew up in foster homes, living with irresponsible parents, drugs, and neglect, and trying to fight the painful memories of the night her parents were taken from her. But it’s hard to forget when she never got closure-and she can’t stop dreaming about what happened that tragic night. To make it through life, she keeps her distance from everyone and never allows herself to feel anything.

Then Violet meets Luke. The two clash instantly, yet they can’t seem to stay away from each other. Although they fight it, they both start to open up and feel things they’ve never felt before. They discover just how similar they are. But they also discover something else: The past always catches up with you.

I loved Luke in the Callie and Kayden books. I also knew that Luke was to developed as a supporting character to not have his own book. So this book came out and I was totally excited. I get to find out more about Luke and he gets himself a girl but from reading this book, getting the girls aren’t his problem. We also find out more about Callie’s roommate, Violet. She’s a character isn’t she? And let’s start from the ending on this. That ending. Sorensen does know how to write a freaking ending. You kind of see it coming and then everything explodes into something so much larger than you expect and then you’re sitting there at 4 in the morning dwelling about these characters and wondering what’s going to happen. (That’s what I did with the first book, last year) I’m bitter that I don’t know what’s going to happen and mad that it’s not ending like I want it to end.

Characters: Let’s start with my favorite from the beginning: Luke. Before this book, I kind of knew he was a man whore, I knew he had issues with his mother, his father wasn’t around and probably a deadbeat and his sister committed suicide. Here’s what I know more. He’s more of a man whore than I realized, issues didn’t necessarily change (until you get to the end of the book) and his dad isn’t that bad of a guy. I still kind of love Luke through his drunkenness and his slutty ways. I know how he was protective of Callie and how he reacts to Violet so I respect him.

Violet: She was kind of a surprise for me. Sort of. All of Sorensen’s characters, that I’ve read, have major issues. They’re real issues and the issues aren’t skirted around. I didn’t expect some of her issues. Like the dealing and she was a virgin. Not that being a virgin is an issue, but it was something that surprised me because of how much she was alone with guys in the first 2 books, which if you think about, that’s genius. You’re getting just the narrator’s p.o.v., then you find out there’s so much more than you realize. I felt for Violet through the whole thing. She’s scared, she’s hurt and she’s surviving. Part of me kind of thought this was going to be somewhat similar to Callie and Kayden but it wasn’t. I feel like Violet was more scared.

Grayson and Seth: Seth disappointed me. He was so much more judgmental than I thought he would be. I was impressed with Grayson, I’m kind of looking forward to their story now.

The creepy “foster father” of Violet: I can’t remember his name off the top of my head. BOOOO. He was definitely a nemesis in this book. I don’t like him. Throw him in the river next book. I’m sure he owns a van and it can be parked down by the river to live in so it could look like an accident. If he doesn’t have a van, shame on him, he’s a drug dealer. He needs a van from the ’70’s.

I really liked the book. This series is what I need every once in a while.

Dear Holiday Movies.


So Christmas. I love Christmas. I love the snow for about 2-3 weeks, only time of the year I love shopping, I love the festivities. I love everything about Christmas. When I had work-study at the library in college the librarians figured out quick that I was maybe in love with Christmas. I can’t help that I’ve been lucky enough to have awesome holiday seasons. I am okay with looking horrible all weekend long and having a Christmas movie marathon, going between the Lifetime and Hallmark channels. I am okay with this. Okay.

Here’s my issues with Christmas movies. There’s two things. Only two things. We can handle this. First: Don’t start at the beginning of November, we still celebrate Thanksgiving in November in the States. No holiday skipping. It’s a rule. Because I enjoy Thanksgiving. It’s not the love I give Christmas, but yeah.

Second: Get a new plot line. I believe in love as much as the next girl. I mean, I’ve talked about it. There was the guy when I was in high school and boy from this past summer but does every holiday movie have to involve love and a happy ending? I did decide that I want my life to be a Lifetime/Hallmark movie. If it were, here’s how it would pan out. Obviously, it would be the holidays and I’d be complaining about being single to my friends and then the high school sort of boyfriend and boy would compete over me and I’d get confused but at the end of the movie, I’d make a decision and there would be a wedding scene at the end of the movie and we’d live happily ever after. And based on what I know of the guys that I mentioned, I’d go for a guy C, that doesn’t exist at this moment or a combination of the two. And why is always like a pretend love or a very dramatic love and there’s always a shot kissing in the gently falling snow. Give me a movie where it’s a fake love affair, they pull it off and then the couple of parts ways, and never see each other again. Is that so hard to do? Throw me a curve ball. I’d appreciate it. Moving backwards for a second, I deserve a movie life, right? I’ll get there.

Nephew turned six yesterday. They were also moving into the new house yesterday. I called him last night. I asked him what he was learning and he said that he learned how to spell dad but not mom and he learned the letter n. He told me that nose and nachos started with n and he got really excited about nachos. My kind of kid. It’s going to break my heart to leave him and the niece for a year. I’m not excited telling him I’m leaving and I have no idea how I’m going to do it. We’ll get through this. I’m going to get this done with as few tears from everyone. Because I know that I will cry.

Well….no snappy ending. Sorry.