Because she wore a tablerunner as a scarf.
I finally found the little Anglican church this morning. St. Margaret's is on Alma'ssy utca. I looked for it earlier this week in anticipation, but I was looking for a church-shaped building, i.e. steeple of some type, and there were none to be seen! Well, this morning I was late for church, as per usual, and walking along I heard singing...you know, the kind of just slightly off-kilter hymns that emanate from an Episcopal service. Aha! It still took me the better part of 5 minutes to figure out how to get in - many buildings are undergoing renovations, so I had to wend my way under some scaffolding and clamber down a partially obstructed stairway before ducking into the narthex. What a treat! I think there were a total of 3 rooms there - the narthex, the kitchen adjoining the narthex, and the chapel. Awesome.
I don't remember much of the service actually, because I think I was paying more attention to the new people, new surroundings, and also to my insides - I missed Calvary and Holy Cross something fierce! Calvary is certainly atypical when it comes to Episcopal churches - it's a wonderful, vibrant community, but doesn't have the same quirky charm of a tiny, graying congregation (i.e. Holy Cross). Anywho...it felt wonderful to be in church again. The service is familiar of course, and we sang Be Thou My Vision, and there was bad instant coffee and homemade brownies, and a flute solo during Communion. Doesn't get much better.
Oh! AND, I met my ambassador. That's right folks, the U.S. Ambassador to Hungary - a lovely lady, wearing a beautiful multicolored stole. I might add that after Fai's "scarf" escapades a couple days ago, I could not help but wonder if the ambassador's stole served as a tablerunner in a previous life. Haha. ;)
I've been homesick this weekend. Not so much for home but for home people. As Captain Hammer put it (in Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog), "If home is where the heart is, then your real home's in your chest." While he was just a jerk with bad rhymes, the line always makes me laugh. It is freeing to think that home can be anywhere you are. After much hemming and hawing over the last few years, it is my joy to report that Olaf is indeed one of my homes. But my homes are really in people - I am at home in my friends at Olaf, at home in the hearts of Holy Cross folk and Calvary people. Budapest may indeed be a home by the time I leave. Or perhaps my home will be in the hearts of my friends who are students in this program too. Time will tell.
It is especially weird to not be at Olaf right now. I am a senior. A senior! That has a strange yet fitting ring to it, but I forget that fact here because class year distinctions are not important among my group of friends. If I was on the Hill, though, I just know I'd be feeling "old." I'm no longer a JC, but the Koala Kuties of Kildahl will always feel like "my girls" haha. How did I get to the top of the heap? It feels like I wasn't climbing there, but just the influx of new fodder for the education machine has pushed and pushed until I ended up on top. Like a pasta making machine. But different. I need to work on my metaphors. I distinctly remember talking with Callie sophomore year about how I really didn't like life at Olaf, and we discussed and determined that while we didn't like it know, by the time we'd have to leave, we'd love it. Haha, oh fer true!
I feel ready to move on to the next thing - whatever that is - by the way, I have no idea, fyi - but I am a very sentimental person so it will hurt like hell to leave. Ah, life. Love it.
Okay, ramble over. For now. I am trying to get my class schedule officially figured out. And of course it takes me forever because I run from decisions as though they were chasing me with butcher knives. Adios mis amigitos!
or rather...Viszlat barátaim!
OH, P.S. dancing parabolas
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