December 5, 2013
The sign in the store window is illegal. “You can’t target Hungarians that way.” These signs are going up in all the dry cleaners around town. “You can’t do that.” My family is Hungarian. I know what they say about us is not true.
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The man is having me repeat after him, but he goes so fast and the language is foreign: I can’t make it out. He gets louder and more insistent. I ask, and others don’t get it, either. A woman is giving a talk, but uses abbreviations and people miss out on the meaning. Another reminds the group that no matter what the topic, half of us will not know about it, so best to go slowly and enunciate clearly.
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At the gathering, Pat invites me to another upcoming party. I will know several people there, because Pat has done such a good job of introducing me to people. I belong now. This is where I wanted to be. Several are discussing beautiful scenic places to visit in the area. I’ve been to some of those, I think. I’m no longer on the sidelines watching life pass me by. This is so rich, I reflect. It’s what I wanted, and I’m amazed to be here.
* * *
My gait is sure and steady on the dusty red road, up through the beautiful sculpted rocks above Sedona. Not like last time, when I was unsure on my feet. Now the hill is easy for me, as I make my way up on my new hiking shoes. I overhear a guide explain the geology. I strain to hear the explanations of the lovely soft, red sculptures. I marvel at the hill as I hike down, still steady on my feet through the dust.
December 2, 2013
The crew in the restaurant kitchen stands around, letting the dishes burn. I best intervene. I can save that macaroni and cheese! We can make it into a macaroni and cheese pancake. I try to get them to help out, but they keep standing around. We must get the meal done! I give orders. I cajole. I yell. I whip them all into shape and we are cooking. The macaroni and cheese pancake is gooey and I prefer crisp, but it is complete and ready to serve to the patrons.
November 24, 2013
Those tigers are scary. Why is the cage door open? I see, they are supposed to be friendly. They are tigers. They are not friendly. I’m scared.
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The dog is trying to adopt me. Ah.
November 21, 2013
Why is Martin Scorsese at my computer and tv controls?
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I admire the beautiful river and city review from the high apartment window. I want to take a photo to send to my parents to enjoy.
November 12, 2013
I’m a bride. Finally. In a gorgeous white gown and veil. I don’t know the groom well — it is an arranged marriage — but he is happy and loves me. I want to be happy with him. Together we race down the middle of a broad, white staircase; he is right behind me with his arms wrapped around my waist, his hands clasped together, propelling me down the stairs while helping me keep my balance. He has my back, I see.
November 7, 2013
I help President Obama write a paper based on Star Wars. I’m chosen because I know WordPress.
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