Gabi's Narnia

G'a'y-ey!

Now, this is more than a controversial issue and I won't even attempt to outline all aspects of my take, but I am going to highlight why I think being a ga'y might mean you haven't properly dealt with issues in your life. And it has to do with emotional collapse that has not been addressed, at least in some of the cases and for that matter all the cases I have had a deeper take on, just recently.

Yes, I am not going to get into the Torah says it's a capital sin, nor won't I bore you with biological and procreational blatancies. Let it suffice to say those are valid points to argue, but for the time being, outside my interest.

What I do care about is that I've just heard about the second lady in a row who had extremely unfortunate experiences with men, got hurt/abandoned/abused/divorced and the whole ordeal left her (them) emotionally unstable... when the right "girl" showed up and initiated a ho'mose'xual relationship and it came to fruition if that's an appropriate word to use.

None of these cases imply necessarily that the "seducer" is an evil vulture, to the contrary, they are the understanding sweeties these girls had craved for beforehand. Honestly, it drives me mad that one of these girls used to be a very close friend to me and it was my mother, who said about 16-17 years ago that this girl is one whom she can imagine marrying rather soon, then having a bunch of children and living a home-maker's life. And my Mom is and was true, that was the biggest craving of this girl, to be romantic, to have kids and a family and be embraced by strong arms and kissed by a man with a bristly face. I recall objecting passionately and telling her off for being so unearthly, for living in romantic dreams that have nothing to do with reality and that she should study instead of daydreaming.
I would have never imagined such a turn of events.

Now, when I faced another case, the question was obvious: what led these girls to this point?
My old friend had a series of unfortunate relationships, one funkier (worse) than the other when finally she married a real jerk with whom they divorced in the end. The second girl's case is not all that different, either.
Could these, maybe temporary lifestyles (only on their part) have been prevented by proper emotional and spiritual care? Before you start the 21st century bullsh'it about me being narrow-minded and I should accept that some people happen to be ga'ys and that is genetic blah-blah-blah, please, bear in mind that I have other ga'y, male friends whom I love, appreciate and respect even though I might not agree with their sexual preferences (oh, and how good-looking, intelligent, fine they are, a loss for me and the female society!) I'm condoning all other aspects, apart from the "emotional hurt might have propelled such turn" opinion.

If you also have ga'y friends and know their stories and if you could confirm or argue my case, although I am absolutely aware that this is a multi-layered, not necessarily scrutiny-friendly topic, I would be happy to hear both validating and annulling comments. But I am not interested in stories where the lady/man was obviously interested in the other gender from extremely early on, but those who had other se'x relationships and then turned to hom'ose'xuality. Eager to hear from you!

PS: this week(end) is the Budapest Pr'ide.

Personality and misc.

If the spe'rm email guy didn't exist I would only call them wimps. He adds the adjective lunatic to the description. Quite dissuasive, altogether.

In the meanwhile, should order an i love Hashem T-shirt... no, I NEVER wear T-shirt, maybe this coffee mug would be slightly more convenient. And the coffee with the 24-7 team racing through Europe seems to be the right match for this week, along with a website's translation and making those final stitches. Just peeked into Early Bird's camera while she is at the Leadership Forum in Eger. Those werkshots are best. Soon!

Early bird back

She is back after 8 weeks and we are hitting the meaningful depths once again as naturally as we all breathe in air. She treaded a similar path, only at a gorgeous, hardly heated English mansion, but the route to even under the roots have been equally enlightening and rich. Gosh, this is what relationships are meant to be like. Welcome home, Fru!

shadowrider, miss you UPDATED

My friend died a year ago on the 19th. My friend went somewhere over the rainbow. Just yesterday, when I heard the song lying on my friend's comfy carpet, it was the first time I haven't shed tears, but smiled. My life is so much less without you. I miss your input, your physical body carrying the transplanted kidney which gave up on you. I miss your cynical remarks as you lovingly co-operated with Juli to bring that funky expression on my face. I miss riding the bike with you, going to concerts with you, miss just sharing about life and our fears and family issues. I haven't put a foot to the cafés we, you, used to hang out, neither to the place we first met on that December day, the 12th.
You brought a huge blessing even in your death. Wish you were here now and could tell you what's going on inside me. I want to be in the light as you are in the light, I want to shine like the stars in the Heavens.

Update: the no crying part lasted until I entered the cemetary and headed toward the tomb. I sobbed almost hysterically, exactly like a year ago, this time all alone. I cried some more on the way back, not caring about what people thought or saw. I still remember being helpless at controlling the teardrops running down my cheek last December for several days. A former schoolmate walked up to me in the tube, handed a little gift, smiled and wished my pain were at an ease. That same pain burst open as I spotted his nick, shadowrider, under his full name on the cold stone pressed further down by our stones of remembrance. I didn't even see that before. And I wish I had waited on Br or asked someone to come with me.

Honest & Transparent

I am cutting the branches while still on the tree, high up. Necks are twisted upwards and I hear the Heavenly cheer. The tiny bones in my ear already take the waves that translate into "Well done, good and faithful servant, I am well pleased with you". Jesus is living through my life and that is the most amazing human experience one can have. It's far better than your very best orga'sm, far better than fame, power and even perfect health.
In it all, two groups of people deserve mention today. MEN, who act and speak responsibly, for whom I am utterly thankful for. Especially Ae, whose soft, love-dripping words are branded into the non-erasable part of my memory. You are an amazing gift, now shared here, in front of the public.
The other group is the very texture I am made of, the net of friends who carry me daily, weekly and care for me, whose support I fall back onto even when I stand in gratitude and thankfulness.
This is a post where words only torture and lapse in the agony of non-adequacy, but I must tell you... somehow... how utterly thankful I am for these wondrous images of the Almighty! How utterly blessed I am to have encountered not just one, but several people who tap onto the deepest parts of my soul and we are connected, like those immune cells, attached for good. I am taking these people to Heaven with me. They are my crown and my beauty.

Turn of events

Around the age of 17 I had to listen to Mom's scolding about going to bed so late and for not being able to wake up in time. I usually fiddled with papers and books and my thoughts until 1-2 AM while school obviously started at 8 in the morning.
Now, several years later the enormous twist happens meaning that it's the second day in a row when I wake Mom with a phone call at 9AM after having accomplished a chunk of work already. How funny!

PS: in case you wondered why is this recent immense load of posts... I checked on typepad that there aren't too many posts missing to actually reach the magic number of 1000 posted items and I'm trying to accomplish that until the end of 2008, hopefully not at the expense of the quality, if there is such a thing. Oh, Gabi, come on, don't your friends send you affirming emails concerning your blog?!?! Sorry. I shut up.

Friends of 22 years, downtown

If my calculations are correct, Dod' has been a friend for about 22 years now. That doesn't say much about my age, contrary to all your speculations. It's easier to check the about section of the blog, in case you wonder :)

We were sitting in Centrál and came to great conclusions. One was the fact that all my good friends happen to live downtown. In areas where there isn't a huge percentage of Gypsy population or where the average education level of the inhabitants is slightly above the average. I happen to live in a very conservative, civic/middle-class area which I thoroughly enjoy. Have heard stories during the Krav Maga training of young guys being attacked almost every day, in the nasty suburbs.

I told my friend that I am (we are) a spoiled rotten intellectual brat. She didn't protest. We are pretty blessed, and definitely not depressed by the mere sight of blank faces hurrying home into the hopelessness of existence on a daily basis. I still have a reason to get up and get going, smile and alike.

How amazing that we followed a similar path contrary to all upbringing-related and educational differences we have encountered with my to be wife friend. Gosh, another characteristic is the super-coolness of my friends' husbands. That should be a sign. I suppose mine is going to be cool, along the same lines as well. And the author of these lines is not a racist. In case you wondered. She is merely rather prone to make deductions based on empirical experience.

Jews and a 6-month-old baby

What a blessing to see good old (young) friends and share meals, smiles and walk around in the Nagyerdő, here in Debrecen. It also a relief to know that I might not necessarily prove to be a bad mom-to-be just because Matyi burst into tears hearing my laughter (while laughing at him, of course) and seeing me making faces.

With his daddy we talked about the Jews, as usual. With mommy we simply enjoyed each others' presence and talked about health, life, emotions. Tomorrow I am heading back to reality and the Russian movie club at Sirály. Until then another night at this sanatorium equipped with a half-a-year-old. You wouldn't think it's relaxing, but it's the best that could happen to me this weekend. Maybe another sleep-tournament of 10 hours?!?

The three shall remain two

We live in an amazing community. We are learning to love and respect each other day by day. We also share experiences not appropriate to be publicly offered here, at least that's what Early Bird would say. But we do have our honest times at around 12PM in the washroom/ bathroom (not toilet, come on!) to the greatest delight of our two elderly neighbours next door and one floor below who could hear more intricate details of our daily doings than any soap opera could ever offer. Not mentioning our singing and dancing times, or shouting across the flat discourses which are regular and decibel-rich.

Our little triumvirate was about to be smashed into pieces by the introduction of this foreign element for financial reasons while Early Bird is in L'Abri somewhere in Albion. Thank God we had our wits to be honest about that issue. It is too beautiful a camaraderie to destroy for economic constraints, thus we are left alone with An Chi until Christmas.

Thank God, again. So, we are on our own to be singing and entertaining each other with this other craze of creation, called Ms Tlbs. But, if you are around and want a mattress on the floor, you can take your share of the delight we are to each other and to the world. I love my flatmates, I honestly do. Even though their standards of cleanliness don't even come close to the lowest expectation I would have of myself or others in regards to what one might wish when she/he claims a place to be home. But I am changing as well, which might not be that bad. After all, one day I might end up picking up dirty, stinky clothes of a hairy male and wiping after loud and polluting tiny offsprings. So, they also minister to me, not just share hearts. And be blessed Early Bird, can hardly wait for your stories of early wakes!

Pumpkin Pie Proof

I am now an official pumpkin pie master, with this recipe. Chinelo sent me a shot, but I saved that on the PC... now I got it. So let me just affirm, that two pumpkin pie gourmands proof-ate from my humble first attempts and I passed with flying colours... although the dough could be slightly less thick and I did put cream into the pumpkin, not only on the top of it whipped!!! The picture doesn't do much justice, the top wasn't this much bursting, it settled and went back to normal. This is I guess the hungry lab rat's (is there a nicer expression in English?!?) devouring instinct, to take a shot of the cooling pie. And you can see part of my vintage oven which works perfectly and is about the same age as I am. 18 that is.