The Year in Review: 2012 Edition

year review

I’m working on this article since the beginning of December, last year. Sadly, I didn’t find the time to actually finish writing it, or probably because the all mighty universe was still showering me with great possibilities (hard work and long cold days at the office). Anyway, here I am, in the middle of January ’13, having nothing but a cold empty day at work, throwing my attention to the iPod, fused with the live version of Coldplay’s latest album, and my Moleskine, filled with To Do lists, drawings of my friends heads, and other wants and needs.

Yet I decided to check out my unfinished articles folder on my desktop, stocked with quite a handful of words. Here I find a little document with a short review of the last year. There was also a piece of paper on my desk with nothing but a doodled penis on it — Clearly, I have nothing else to do but to finish that article, I mean THIS article.

Psychologists, managers and other career lovers recommend us, the people who dream of dreams, to put our yearly achievements in a notebook. Basically, to write down everything important so we could feel good about ourselves, to build perspective, structure, or, pretty much, an offline Facebook timeline. This will ensure us growth in the future. Will it, really?

Now that I’m actually on it, trying to formulate paragraphs about what I’ve been doing feels quite OK. I mean, it releases accumulated tension and gives memories a chance to light up. You smile, grow a bit, see things differently, wanting more. You get motivated and even take another piece of paper (I took my phone) to write the things you want to do this year, double the stuff, the fun and whatever you enjoyed last year or missed.

Personally, 2012 was the best year of my life so far. I ended my studies abroad (Coimbra, Portugal) in February, made great friends, did many new (or stupid) things. After that, I had one more semester of college to finish, that was one of the easiest things to, compared to the one I had before. Yet there were some difficulties to accommodate with my old city, friends, habits and lifestyle. Of course, I ended up crying on the streets, in the night (under the blankets), even on the toilet… That post-Erasmus depression is no lie — It really gets you unarmed!

Graduation and bachelor’s exam came (June), passed everything fabulously. Took a job in a management field to fill up my pockets (for fashion and traveling purposes, of course).

One month and a half later I went to Sicily to meet a very special friend and his family. It was amazing, more than two weeks of road trips, Italian food, new friends and laughter. Made quite a family there and over one thousand pictures.

2012 was just like a song: It started with a chorus then a moment of relaxation (actually it felt more like one of those Adele rhythms), then the chorus came up again, more like a carousel, with an electric guitar, super head banging bass, and other funky noises, accompanied with yet another Buddha-bar episode till it reached to its ending with a final chorus – The year’s last drop of honey — New Year’s in Budapest with my brand new love and my amazing friends. A fine year indeed.

What I want this year?

Well, first of all, I want to sign up for a post-graduate programme somewhere in Europe. I would love to finally take my driver’s license (I’ll be 23 soon and still don’t know how to drive a freaking car!). I would love to visit London, Paris and at least a city in my country. Attending to a big concert would do nice (maybe P!nk in Paris). Most of all, at then end of this year, I would like to visit a very good friend of mine in Australia. Universe, you copy, right?

Will I manage to do all these things? Reader, you better cross those fingers!

I’m still not sure what the summer paradise will bring… I’m sure it will be a pleasant surprise. Life is beautiful!

What’s your plan for this year? Tell me your wants. 🙂


Childhood’s Passport Stamps


Growing up in one place was off-stream to my family, they just couldn’t settle to a small, yet more than enough, flat in the near center of the city. Developing tacky relationships with the street’s elders and neighbors’ children was my most developed skill.. Heck, I still remember a couple of those never ending tales of other people’s lives, especially the ones involving surviving hunger, war and other catastrophes…

I was always between packing and unpacking my baggage, and not just literally. My mind was like a circus, preparing a show for the newcomers in my life.

My base game called Childhood had four expansion packs:, at age four, eight, thirteen and eighteen, each with its specific taste and smell.

Gosh, I enjoyed moving, discovering new places, running inside the new home, picking my room and imagining the way it could look. The smell of new painting and the silence of the night…

From concrete jungle, rural empire, sane’s edge, to Fashionista’s closet. These would be the right titles for the upper so called expansion packs, and, if I’m already here, let me smoothly describe them. Just for fun…

Concrete Jungle

Don’t remember staying inside for too long, barely remember the way my room looked back then or what toys I had. I do remember the surroundings of my block, the kids I used to play with, scared of or hiding from.
Me and my friends were playing on the street, looking for mischief till the city lights showed up… Heheh!

There was a building in construction, right in front of ours, with a generous amount of hide & seek opportunities. My school was also nearby with a big enough football field, not that I’m a fan of sports or what so ever, but it was the heart of Kinder Society, the fastest way to make new friends…

Running around parked cars, taking off their stickers or decorations, tormenting my poor neighbors. I felt like the city was mine, even if my knees were injured from the constant concrete kissing… Even if those four years where basically in a unfinished building, parking lots, school fields and the close by internet cafe, which was more like an early PC Gamer’s Club. I discovered Mortal Combat and Hercules there!

Rural Empire

Besides moving into a house where an old person hanged himself in the attic (I saw the chains!), I was pretty much living on a boring street, infested by gossip whisperers and nannies keeping an eye on you, plus there were no cars, no pollution, no concrete. Just green grass and fresh air…

Things were more interesting in my own yard. Of course, I stole my neighbors sour cherries, apples and plums. Who wouldn’t do that? And I mean it, I stood there for hours, operating that tree, making sure not one piece of fruit will remain till the end of summer. I was worse than an insect!

Here’s the part where I got injected with cartoons. Saturday and Sunday mornings were one hundred percent Hanna-Barbera action. And because I knew Hungarian too, I had double the great shows compared to my muddy friends.

Guess who had a sandbox in front of his house? Oh yes I had! And half of it was transported in my room. But hey, I had my own personal Simcity out there with original destruction tools!

At Sane’s Edge

Boy, oh boy. This was kind of a downgrade to my lifestyle. We moved to another house, closer to the city, with no hot water or bathroom, no heating system, gas or cable. Yes, my friends, I had no cable for almost 3 years!

Just me and my imagination…

Ended up in a German school, gosh I hated it, especially my language teacher. I was never good enough for her, always hunting me down, every freaking class… She really enjoyed pushing those bad boy grades on me. But I showed her, oh yes I did!

When your own teacher is bullying you, plus a couple of classic bullies in the schoolyard, you tend to not care anymore about the big picture, so you take vacations, when you feel like it. You know, to escape the system. You have no idea how many imaginary relatives died in the fifth and sixth grade… No idea!

I lied. I lied a lot, to my parents, friends and everyone around me. It’s bad, I know. I built a whole new fantasy life, covered in thousands of paper masks…

My biggest fear in life is to let my parents down. So to protect them, I even disabled the telephone for days to make sure my teacher won’t reach them. My dad used to drop me in front of the school. I stood there for five minutes, making sure he left the perimeter, then ran back home…

…And then I reached the deepest deep of my ocean of misery… I didn’t pass the one and only exam, the one that decided whether I’m going or not to high school. The one that decided my future…

Failure after failure. Oh boy!

My dad didn’t talk to me for weeks. I lost my two friends, apparently they were ashamed of me, I was all alone… Masks were burning off, one by one. Tears cleaned the ashes off my skin… Till the sun shone upon my naked face. In that moment, and I remember this perfectly, I said to myself – No more! So I got up on my feet and promised to myself that I’ll never let myself, or my loved ones, down. Never!

So I became an overachiever, a fighter and an opportunist. Had one year of crappy school, took the exam again, passed with shining stars, finished high school with great grades, did a lot of voluntary work (and still doing!), finished university with honors, studied abroad… And never lied again about who or what I am. Never!

Life is great and sadly too short…

Fashionista’s closet

Moved for the fourth time and apparently (finally!) for the last time, with my family, to an apartment, somewhere between the other apartments back in year zero to eight. A small but good enough apartment, a silent one with great surroundings and everything I ever wished for. My life is not just complete but perfect, and I’m writing this with tears in my eyes.

I finally have the feel of shelter, the warmness of my room… Yet I don’t regret one second of my past. If I would have the possibility to go back in time, I wouldn’t change a thing. This road I’ve been on for 22 years gave me great experience.

I’m not afraid of changes, I can instantly accept and always looking for them, for better ones, to further develop myself. I learned to accept and love myself I learned to love my friends, cause I lost many. Most important, I became an overachiever, I’m touching the sky, I’m conquering my every want, wish and dream. Impossible became I’m possible!

Of course, there may still be a couple of downsides of this path that I took, like my addiction to clothing, computer games, trends and other shenanigans… But hey! Boy gotta have an addiction or two… Or three!

Also, there might be a pinch of diva attitude in his personality… Just a pinch, you won’t even notice, I swear!

And hey, thank Player he’s not smoking or drinking…

How would you describe your childhood’s passport stamps? Have you ever been at Sane’s Edge?

Ultimate Childhood Memories

Ultimate Childhood memories

Recently had a discussion, about childhood memories, with a friend of mine. She told me all these great stories, adventures and happenings in more than one hundred words per minute… And I was like “Dude, what’s my childhood story?” Swear to Player, I barely had something to top one of her shorties. Apparently I had a boring childhood. I’m boring!

I love when people talk about their lives. They inspire me, make me want more, see the world even bigger, vast and beautiful. I guess I had a pretty simple childhood. Don’t remember having any explosive events or mind blowing chapters. I wasn’t that special, I guess…

I do have a couple of key childhood memories. I perfectly remember my first truck, I think I was five or so, my dad took me to a shop near our place, he told me to choose any displayed toy. There were these two big trucks, one of them transporting an airplane and the other, cargoes  I was fascinated by the green one, the one with the cargoes. A plane is a plane, right? But with the colorful cargoes, the possibilities of transporting mixed goods were endless, and it was green!

My main childhood activity was rising kingdoms and building spaceships out of hundreds of pieces of Lego. My room was the universe and I was its creator. From flying cars, teleportation, super powers, magic to monsters and explosions. I had them all… I was more interested in the apocalyptic side of my imagination, interested in villains, controlling the dead, measuring the darkness and bringing shadow upon my friends territory.

I barely traveled till I was eighteen but I did move a lot with my parents, they always changed homes which made me pretty short on friends. Always had to make new ones, which made me pretty exotic… Four homes (five actually but I don’t remember the first one, I was just a larva back then), four totally different group of friends. From Nintendo addicted and sugar pumped kids to technophobes and tree huggers. Then from Playstation snobs, D&D heroes and WoW whores to ultimate gamers, beer slurpers and Simmers.

There rest was pretty off stream  I guess. I played outside in the sand, built roads for my race cars and other four wheeled vehicles, baked mud pies and other dicky stuff, opened a stand with my neighbors, sold garbage for leafs and nuts. Played house with the local girls, adopted kids… Been an everyday actor of the imaginary theater. I had no sense of fashion. Ha!

I sang my lungs out when I was home alone. I used to imagine being this international superstar, at a concert with millions of fans, singing and dancing for the teddy bears, spitting on my microphone a.k.a. my mother’s hairspray…

There’s no childhood without a massive amount of Cartoon Network. I remember those cool Halloween movies, those Christmas Events. Gosh, I love Christmas and the snow…

I think I was four or five, it was St. Nick, I watched that boot for hours, waiting for my gift. There’s this little Santa we celebrate before the big one. On the night of December 5th, you have to clean your winter boots and put them near the door or window. The presents are usually smaller than the ones from Christmas,  you get oranges and sweets, occasionally toys, electronics or clothes, if you were a good boy or girl. If not, the bad ones get coal and a nicely decorated twig… For parental purposes! 🙂

That year I got one of those Tetris handhelds. I remember watching that boot like the most precious thing in the world but someone had to knock at the front door, a neighbor or something, and me, already, being extremely curious, I left the boot unsupervised to see who’s disturbing my guard. When I returned in my humble room, my boot was fully giftified. I was so shock-a-happy!

Later on Christmas, I got one of those Nintendo consoles. I remember playing Battle City with my dad for years to come. O loved watching my parents play Dr. Mario, my mom, Magic Jewelry, and my dad, Super Mario on the 8th stage. I’m still unable to pass those levels…

Long story short, this was my childhood till age fourteen. The fun stuff comes later on, like my rebellious chapter, skipping school, being bullied by kids for being different, developing a dark side, building fake personalities, covering myself deep with layers of empty sheets just to be cool and accepted by the others… Disconnecting the land phone for a pretty long period of time just to make sure my professors won’t call my parents… But that’s another story!

What’s your ultimate Childhood memory?


LifestylesYour lifestyle is part of who you are, your unique identity, your tribute to your mother and the world. It’s that life-long schedule you start to define from day one and continuously change till your clock stops. It should be never finished. Never!

Some activities stay, like the basics of living, others go deeper into detail…

Lifestyle is part of your personal brand, because at the end of the day we are nature’s products, we sell ourselves to have what we need, want and dream of. Even if you see yourself as a private person, not at all public (and you should be because we should know about your existence, voice and vision), facing hundreds of people every week, you have a brand, you are the brand, defined by lifestyle, way of thinking, actions and presentation.

Many of us hide  their true identity from the fear of judgement, showing off handcrafted masks of commercial brands. And you know what happens to commercial artists, right?

Don’t be afraid or ashamed of who you are because you, my friend, are amazing!

Your style inspires people around, invites them to get to better know you, to learn from you. and this personal brand of yours is the one out there, on the market.

A global view of yourself, a visual resume…
Could be a mirror or a link to your true style of living (which I recommend) or an alter ego of who you would like to be, putting on clothes that may not fit. Pretending to be someone else is a direct insult to your teen-hood, your heart and years you spent being alive.

Don’t forget that having a different sexual orientation, skin color and nationality should make you PROUD because you are UNIQUE!

I chose to be happy. I am who I am. I respect my flaws even if they are many. They are my flaws!

I’m not at all “normal”, never been, never will. Don’t even know what that means, don’t even care. Judge me as much as you want, gossip. It makes me alive. I smile, dream in strong colors. I thank the world, the universe, even God, if there’s one up there, for every second of my life.

I’m addicted to a life of material, I hate money so much I spend it on anything I see, mostly on clothes, those are the things I love. Fashion make my world go round, trend turns me on and I’m married to traveling.

You know what? I’m just a 22 years old dude currently living in a not that big but yet, good enough city. I see myself as a youth icon because that’s what I want to be. I’m an overachiever, probably my greatest flaw. I barely have a personal life. Actually, professional and public became my personal life…

I’m always in a hurry, hurry to grow, to be the first, to be up on the ladder, to be number one. I’m fighting to be the first in anything I do. I can’t fail, I don’t want to.

Failure to me is like a near death experience, and if I do fail, damn sure I won’t give up, I’ll come back twice better, show that little f*ck who I really am.

Being an overachiever really sucks the tits out of your life, at least your free time, friends and family. I can barely catch up with friends and almost impossible to have a love life. I’m married to myself a while…

It sounds bad but hey, it’s who I am!

I’m currently working as a marketing manager at a local company that offers car rental services, I recently applied to a graduate school, studying strategies and politics of Management, and, cherry on top, I work at a youth organization in my spare time, I organizing public events in the city, promoting an active community.

Norbert is a spoiled brat and a hipster with a dirty diva attitude… True. I spend a lot on myself. I hate having money in my wallet, I just can’t stand having it… I have this fixation on saving money. What if a car hits me the next day and I have a lot of cash in my pocket? All that cheese will never magically turn into a scarf, cardigan or a new pair of All Star…

I brag, ok?! I brag… You talk to me, I’ll probably mention my H&M socks, who knows, maybe I’ll tell you what type of underwear I’m currently wearing, brands of tees and jeans… I love my clothes, it makes me happy putting them on display. Let’s not go into my taste buds… I may talk about your weight, why your shoes don’t go with the hoodie or damn… What’s that on your legs?!

I’m a slut when it comes to flirting. I love flirting, I hit on everybody that smells good and know his or her way with clothes…

I don’t care about what car you’re driving, what you’re drinking… Well, maybe if you brag about Starbucks or some expensive drink you had at an glamorous local outside my city or even country. I’m interested in your stories, I want to hear about your lifestyle and experiences, especially if we’re talking about living abroad…

I love smart people, people who want more than a simple life. Always looking for the new and fresh. I love to experiment… Especially if it’s kinky. I love shocking ways to entertain myself. I am weird and definitely crazy.

Nothing scares me!

I follow my dreams, even the crazy ones. I may look like a guy with a figured out life, with plans at every corner but no, it’s not true. I have no idea where I’ll be next month or next year… That’s the fun of life. Right?

More, more and always more… On and on and on… Life is too short to stay still,  too beautiful to be tired. You may die tomorrow and leave nothing behind… And my ultimate goal is to leave something for the people around me and, if it’s possible, the next generation. We all have potential, we all have that flame burning inside. We all have to try. Try!

The Runway

The Runway

Cardigans, skinny jeans, v-necks, shoes and accessories. These are the things that turn my wallet on fire. Fashion is my passion, my poison and my curse. I have no control when it comes to new collections from favorite brands, red prices or anything that fits my taste. I lack of money management and responsibility when it comes to THAT pair of socks, THOSE jeans and damn boy… Look at those overpriced pair of fake glasses. I. Must. Have. Them!

I contracted this disease way back in my single digit years, thanks to my godmother and her cool presents (a frequent traveler who always brought me the cool stuff). Haribo, Ritter Sport and just the right amount of Lacoste. I had jeans in any possible color, dozens of tees, shirts, pullovers, hoodies and jackets. The closet was like a freaking pokédex. My own personal Hennes & Mauritz paradise…
Years passing, me growing, discovering deodorant and its slutty sister, perfume, putting my hands on money,  helped my so called disease to grew its roots deep into my soul, developing certain needs. One of them was the need of looking good, becoming addicted to a life of material.

Clothing, besides keeping us warm, shows a big part of our personality, social status, how much money we earn and the way we feel. Imagine wearing your favorite combination of clothes, how do you feel? Now imagine your mother dressing  you up…

Every time I put on clothes I  imagine preparing for a fashion runway. I see paparazzi checking me out, screaming my name… My life is like a movie and I’m the lead actor, the one that gloriously shines.

My body is a canvas when it comes to dressing up for a certain occasion: going out, with friends, to the nearest supermarket or, to my grandmother. Also, major part of the dressing up process — It’s crucial to hazardously take out half of my dresser to create at least two outfits as last minute options or just for fun. Imagine how the apartment looks when I’m ready to go!

Television thought me to wear different clothes every day. It’s impossible to see me in public with the same outfit two days in a row. Impossible! When it comes to traveling, the number of outfits must be bigger than the number of days away from home, making sure I won’t wear the same shit again. Even if it’s raining with mustard, ice cream trucks explode in front of me or something mysterious happens while fully suited up, I have an emergency outfit, just in case. I’m crazy!

I’m a known shopaholic, addicted to cardigans, skinny jeans and all stars. When I’m sad I tend to spend a lot of money. Money on clothes. And they never come alone, outfit or no outfit. I can’t check out from the shop with just one piece. Are you mad?! Head to toes bitch or GTFO!

Fashion, a material life. Glamour, city lights, concrete jungle, dust and polluted air. My identity, my habitat, my apocalypse. Me.

Who are you? What represents you?

Wish I was Gay!


If there would be a list of all my strangest wishes, being gay would clearly be my number one. Call me a weirdo but there’s nothing wrong to be gay. There’s a whole new world available for you to explore. I feel like it’s one of those classy role playing games where you get a certain race, gender, class, and set of skills to become the next legendary hero. Gays, to me, are like a new class or race. An expansion pack for the world that brings a whole new experience. A fresh, post-modern, urban story to tell…

And no, it’s not because of NBC’s latest comedy, The New Normal, which pretty much shows the kind of experience I’m talking about. It goes way back, in my teen years, where homosexuality was seen as a mental illness, a disease. A sin probably worse than murder. The so called “normal” people pointed fingers at them, making sure they’ll never be welcomed in or near their precious, perfect, straight community.

As result of endless discrimination, many gays committed suicide due to heavy depression, caused by the fear of “coming out”, expressing themselves and being rejected by their loved ones. Because of our outdated definition of normality, closed minded limited point of view, many amazing people died. Yes, we wasted great souls, dreams and talents…

So why would I wish to be gay? To be proud about it, to have a different life. To show the world that I am who I am, that I’m truly unique and the others are the ones shamefully sinning, the ones playing with pre-played character, stereotypes. That they gave up on themselves for not discovering or creating their true characters.

I can already imagine a life somewhere in the deeps of an urban environment, owning an apartment somewhere in the sky, with a great panorama of the big city, married to a tattooed, athletic black guy, father of two beloved Asian baby girls, and writer of many bestsellers. See, it’s quite perfect story!

Careful. I’m not saying we should all hop in the gay train. Sexual orientation is not something you can change or choose. You were born with certain settings, baby, and you should respect them. I’m just telling we should stop judging and just think for a second what the person in front of us may go through…

Actually, I’m telling you to try to understand, with your heart, not your brain, the differences you see between the person you’re about to ruin, the normality you’ve defined, and the person you want to be. You have no idea how much you could have in common!

Gays are not the only ones discriminated here, but they suffer the most. Imagine how hard would it be for us to not be able to marry the person we love, to adopt a child, to hold hands or kiss in public. It’s like having a limited Internet connectivity. You have the necessary equipment but you can’t fully use it.

Why should we point fingers at people with a different mindset than ours? Why caring how our neighbors live their lives? Why can’t we just open our eyes and accept the way it is and maybe learn a thing or two from them? Just think about it.

Think about all those famous gay artists out there, movie stars, designers, writers, and so on. They all do great things with their lives. We all enjoy their work. So why shouldn’t they enjoy their life normally like we do?

I honestly love the gays and I’d proudly be gay if I could. Because of them I have awesome clothes to wear, great blogs to read.  Music, movies and TV shows. My life is basically great because of them… And, sometimes, I envy their fabulous life style!

Being gay is normal. (period!)

Destroyed by Television


I remember reading this article one or two weeks ago. A blog that I discovered, while resurrecting my Twitter account, had this really interesting post about “17 ways television has destroyed my brains“. Back then it was funny but yesterday something pretty bad happened…

 So I came home from work with two bars of chocolate and a big pack of gummy bears, all happy, a bit tired, and excited about my soon to be watched Sex and the City episodes. I arrive home and my parents welcome me in the kitchen, my dad opens the window to smoke a cigar and mom turns on the oven to heat up the food.

Mom right? One of the most important people in your life, the one that loves you more than anything in the world, sits down while the food gets ready. A couple of questions here and there about work, my day. You know, catching up and stuff… Suddenly mom says she is not feeling good. That she never felt like this before. A moment later she turns whiter than the wall. Her green eyes took contrast like never before.

She said “I need water. Fast. Give me some water, cold water!” My dad starts to panic, I keep my swag, giving a recipient to dad, looking at my mom, asking for details about her condition. Her hands were going numb, she started to loose her hearing and probably lost her sight due to constant blinking and eye movement. Probably she was at the edge of fainting.

Anywho, long story short, I had to call the ambulance, doctors came. They discovered high blood pressure. Of course, it runs in the family! Though my mom swears the high digits were because of the panic, it was something else. She mumbled something about eating and taking a nap… Could the stomach or liver give you these symptoms? Interesting case I may say…

She’s now perfectly fine, at work actually. I know, A bit irresponsible you may think, but she promised me she’ll go to see a doctor this week.

The reason I kept my self calm is because I couldn’t really pay attention to what is actually happening. I was more interested in what will happen, episode speaking. I felt like I was living in a TV show, imagining how the ambulance will come, the attention they’ll create, what the neighbors will think, what the paramedics will bring and do. Then about my mother… After she went to the bathroom to cool herself off with some more cold water, she started to feel better. In that moment I was talking on the phone with a person from the emergency line. She was asking me all sort of details about the patient’s state while mom was shouting she’s feeling better. Right after that my mind was whispering “everybody lies”!

Oh the endless scenarios, the excitement… And the main character was my own mother… TV shows has really destroyed my brain!

Call me heartless but all I can say that I was ready for the action, even if it’s about a loved one, and I love my mother very much, I would do anything for her, but hell, I was ready for the drama… I won’t even tell you about the images I had. All I can say that if my mind would of take control of yesterday’s situation, I would get an Emmy for sure!

So TV shows prepare you in life’s hard situations or is it just me? I may be weird and broken but gosh, this article would look so much better with “I did CPR and I told her “Don’t you dare die on me. Do you hear me?! Not today!!!”

Now that I think of, these TV shows is actually giving us false hope. Probably that’s why I didn’t panic and even expected for more drama. I knew that somewhere, a couple of scenes later, there’s this Dr. Grey near a local watering hole who will magically put my mother back on her feet before the end of the day.

Thank God she’s fine. Hope that both my parents will stay around me for more than I expect cause I’m nothing without them.

What do you think? TV shows gives you experience, false hope or the power to stay strong?