No, no, no, no babe, no, no, no, no don’t lie...

What you gonna do when it all comes out
When I really see you & what you're all about

Oh, Black Eyed Peas rock. And I have to include that song right there: first of all ’cause it’s a great song; second because I’m listening to it now; finally because it factors so nicely into the telling of my weekend adventures. Namely, it was the stunning, dramatic, running-away conclusion to Saturday night.

But let me backtrack a bit. On Friday, Harpswell and Jeremy both made it Szolnok, then made it onto a train to Mezõberény. Laura not only made it here, but made it walking across Szolnok alone to meet Chad, I, and some of the other Oxford teachers in Jazz Pub (great job, Laura. You get a smiley-face sticker). Saturday morning, we got up and made it to the train station; Chad did not. We went without him; he caught the next train. The train ride (and indeed, a good part of the day) was made better by an on-going exchange of SMSs with Janos, mostly on the topic of the circus he’s planning.

After meeting up with Gaines, Harpswell and Jeremos in Mezõberény and being served amazing Mexican food by Gaines (you also deserve a sticker), we trekked to Békéscsaba for the Sausage Festival. We met up with other CETPers Brent (Sarkad), and from last year Matt (Békéscsaba), Brandie (Köszeg), and Guy and Jane, who are a wonderful couple living in Újszasz, 10 minutes from Szolnok. The festival being quite, quite similar to the Gúlyas and Paprika Festivals, we staked out a table in the big tent and sat there for the remainder of the afternoon and evening, drinking, eating, talking, listening to music live and otherwise, and generally having a good time. Later in the evening, maybe 7-ish, we departed in order to walk across the rainy, dark, cold, and rather big city of Békéscsaba in order to go to a bar which was close to the train and bus stations. Good call, because we sat there drinking until we had to go catch the last bus at 10:40.

After arriving safely back in Mezõberény and partaking in a Jeremy-concocted drink of Blue Curacao and cranberry juice, and taking some vaguely dirty pictures with Gaines’ camera when she was out of the room, we headed out to Mezõberény’s one club, the Ipar Disco. The music was some sort of bizarre Hungarian techno. Yikes. But, just as we were starting to lean towards the door, the DJ busted out some American tunes. This became sort of a pattern for the evening: intentions of leaving curbed by the lure of just-one-more-dance. So anyway, we started to leave several times. On attempt 3 or 4, Jeremos had the brilliant idea of having just-one-more-dance, in the center of the dance floor. He led us into the crowd. It was here that I met Tami, (aka Béla II., according to Harpswell). We danced. Jeremy took pictures (which I will include here once they get online). Harpswell and Laura laughed. Tami’s friend high-fived me. Some songs later, I decided that we should run away. Unfortunately, our escape was impeded by having to wait for Gaines and Chad. Tami came outside, sat on the curb and sulked. I offered a broken Hungarian goodbye, he remained silent. Then we all ran away home to the sounds of Black Eyed Peas’ “Don’t Lie.”

Miért csinalom ez a hülyeséget? Magányos, kétségbeesett, esztelen, erkölcstelen, vagy csak kurva vagyok? Mit kell? A drámat? A figyelmét? És ha igen, kié? Csak hülye vagyok.