The Hungarian Rubdown

I am really going to miss Attila my massage guy. He comes to our place once every two weeks or so and gives us both a massage. His table is literally 30 years old and the sheet he covers it with smells faintly of cigarettes - as if someone smokes where he does the laundry. He talks a lot while doing the massage. He covers me with a sheet sometimes and other times he pulls the sheet down so he can really get to the areas he needs to reach and then I am laying there almost naked except for a pair of undies. Sometimes he climbs up on the table and straddles me so he can leverage all his weight. He has a big belly and he will occasionally rest my head on it while he gets my shoulders. He uses lotion but sometimes, after the lotion runs out, I can tell that the moisture is because his hands are sweaty. All this and I am still going to miss having Attila rub me down. He does such a great job. He is so strong and he does this wonderful thing where he actually massages in between my toes!! Last night, after he massaged Peter and then me, we had a not-quite-tearful goodbye. Where in the US am I going to find a massage for just $22 (that someone else pays for)?

NOTHING TO READ
I finished another book last week. "Maps for Lost Lovers." I guess I am on this Arab/Muslim fiction kick. Anyway, that was my last book for the summer. I think it brings me up to 7 or 8. So now it's all about TV. And let me tell you, Hungarian television sucks. At least, our television does. Maybe if we had satellite it would be better. The best thing on TV last night was the international Sumo Wrestling championships. Actually, it was kind of interesting. The matches are over in about eleven seconds and there are all kinds of strange rituals. For example, the wrestlers walk into the ring throwing rice in the air. Sometimes they have a stare-down, which is apparently pretty controversial. And after a stare-down they kind of beat themselves about the torso. It's quite odd. And, the strangest part is that after each match, the winner crouches down and the referee brings over a tray of money. The winner blesses the money and then picks it up and walks off the ring and the next match starts. This is Hungarian TV. Although to be fair, I think it's European TV. Because on this particular channel (Euro Sport1), sometimes the announcers speak English (with British accents), sometimes they speak French and sometimes its Hungarian. They speak English for the sports I could really care less about, like sumo wrestling and volleyball. They speak French for some of the motorsport events. And the Hungarian is reserved for the best sports - cycling, swimming, track and field. Just my luck.

Planning our Road Trip
Last night we mapped out our Eastern European road trip. Vienna then Salzburg then Cesky-Krumlov and then Prague! Poor Peter will have to sit through the Sound of Music before we go so he can really enjoy Salzburg as much as I surely will. I warned him last night that he is going to hate the movie...most people do. But he insists on watching it. And I am not going to complain if I have to see it again. As anyone who knows me knows, I LOVE THAT MOVIE! And, as you also know, I was Captain Von Trapp in my 5th grade class production of the Sound of Music. You see, Danny Geller broke both his legs playing football about a month before the show. We had auditions in class and I beat out Dana Goodfriend for the part (which was awesome because she was my bitter rival and I had already beat her out in the first round of auditions for the role of Elsa, the Captian's girlfriend. I loved beating her again!).

I have no expectations for Prague. I know it's a gorgeous city and the other day I was looking at Niko's pictures from there and got really excited. My only Prague experience has been Cafe Prague down near Jackson Square in San Francisco. I used to go there for lunch sometimes when I worked over there at Manning. So, I am looking forward to spending my birthday in Bohemia.

BLOG coming to a close this Friday
And so, given that I won't be working next week, and given that we STILL don't have Internet at home (because Peter just found out yesterday, the 30-day mark, that if you order phone AND internet, the deadline is actually 60 days! Gotta love a monopoly!), and given the fact that it's called "Marcy in Budapest" and I won't be in Budapest after 12 August, my last blog entry will be this Friday, 5 Aug. I know, I know...it's going to be crushing. What will you do with yourself when you can't read my random and self-absorbed thoughts? Well, considering I will be home shortly thereafter, you can call me instead. Or better yet, we can hang out.