A look through 2018

The hand of the clock ticks. tocks. ticks

At the beginning of the year, like a good number of us, there were nuggings of uncertainty pecking at every corner , but as days progressed into weeks and weeks into months, I began to ease into the year like a temptress breaking in a new pair of stilettos.

I wanted to start projects, without confining myself to the impossible standards of resolutions. I didn’t want to just scale through, enduring was an option, just not mine. Still, I had no prior prep courses, no handy machineries to be able to manoeuvre 2018 without skiddng through muddy ponds.

I however do have one thing, a video camera with which I was able to capture the galore of contagiously unforgettable moments.

One of such moments was in April when we got meine Süßigkeiten, Aka Gandalf. Boy, have I learnt a lot about persistence and patience from this vengeful, stubborn wabbit. Here’s a video when he was 5 months, frolicking in the garden. I’ve decided to name this, the Adventures of Gandalf the wise . Click the play button.

it’s everything but boring, right?

Then came a day, I with all my idealism thought it was time for all the residents of our cozy district to meet and greet. Well, things escalated farther than I hoped for when Rudolph, the dachshund set his weary eyes on the young blood.

But enough about the bunny, In the summer, we visited my Fiance’s relatives in Gyula, a small city In Hungary, close to the eastern Border of Romania. Reka their especially talented and diverse daughter invited me to her Zumba class, I did more than applaud her.

Reka is the little cutie to my left

Her brother, Levente whose mood is frequently unpredictable ( I can never tell if we’re on good terms) serenaded me with a traditional folk song, of a beautiful maiden. I guess we couldn’t be better.

Levente with his rock star dad.

And my extremely cut for time take on Childish Gambino’s “This is America,” Hungary version. Click play to watch.

As it seems, I didn’t merely duck and hide, like I thought I would, whether I was prepared for the segwaying uncertainties, Jesus showed me that I only needed to be certain of his love. I hopped on grace, and it brought me here today.

This is my best moment in 2019.

Alas the cold and my fear of water kicked in

And that fellow bloggers and loyal readers is the how I chose to end this year. Thank you for all the love to memoirsofalexander.com and I. Comment below if you had favourite moments in 2018 today.

It’s eight hours till jan. 1. 2019, but it’s still not too early to say Happy New Year! Frohes neues Jahr! With love from Budapest.

Let the fireworks begin.

Watch.Wait, and See

Oh dear, can you smell that? Yes it smells of shell and burnt clay…

but there is something else lingering here. It’s intense and fast approaching.

Today has been an irregular one in that I rarely change a post abruptly, in fact I slept at 3 am, because I was editing the post I was supposed to publish.

But someone, somewhere needs to realise that they have not been forgotten sooner than later.

Change is in the air

I am especially excited today. Saturdays are my hair days which is usually boring and tortuous. Albeit today has been the most joyous hair day I ever had. why?

I smell the showers of change sweeping us into 2019, good change.

But wait, there’s more…. that change doesn’t start in 2019, It’s already here. Can you believe it?

But how can change occur without perseverance? how can one reap the subtle exotic juicy fruit of the changing wind that 2019 is down pouring on us?

Stay Consistent

Let this word be inscribed on your forehead and heart. Whatever you are working through in your family, relationships, work place, just as you consistently breath, use each expiration to bring into fruition the blessings awaiting you.

Before 2019 ends, allow yourself to come face to face with the facet of your life that is hidden, and you may even be motivated despite temptations to start the process of abstracting shame with acts of love and kindness. Still we must be consistent with those acts of kindness in order to reap success and blessings.

Don’t Quit !

What are you doing different, or continuing, to impact yourself and the life of others around you?

Do you feel like no one is noticing, or no one is listening?

Don’t quit! Let God’s promises cradle you and your beautiful gifts and return back all you have given with interest.

He has already done it. just remember that the glory is not yours to hoard.

Persevere beautiful people. Watch, wait and see God bless you!

Happy 1st

No one lives forever. Imminently our life essence escapes like a fleeting wisp of air with no warning, or justification.My beloved Aunty Stella was too beautiful for this world.

We had our own Christmas tradition

On 26th December I would call and wish her a happy birthday, she’d ask me about school (she passed away 5 months to my graduation), when I’m coming to visit. Then, we’d talk about her husband, and the girls.

Except last year, I broke that tradition. I don’t know what I was confronted with, or if I simply waved it away and thought, ” there’s always next year.”

How naive!

I and my cousins were never particularly close, but it doesn’t take a psychoanalyst to tell that the source of their holiday delight is around no longer, kinda like the Inn-keeper’s son.

For them, every Christmas tree is a reminder that theirs is still boxed in the garage. That no gifts were under it signed by Santa aka mom—even though all of her daughters are in their mid-late 20s. No matching pyjamas. No holiday crackers on the dinner table, or a game like caricature drawing after the meal. And no celebration of her 56th the day after Christmas.

But today I celebrate her life, her family and the joy she brought to mine.

Today is my Aunty’s Stella’s first Birthday in Heaven.

Thank you for reading, and best wishes this festive season 🙂

happy 1st
happy first

The Inn-keeper

Fellow Bloggers and beloved readers, I want to wish you all a merry Christmas and briefly thank you for what an awesome year this turned out to be.

While the story that I am inspired to post is not your traditional magical Christmas story, I hope you’ll enjoy it still. Perhaps tomorrow I’ll explain why.

For now, merry Christmas and a big Thank you to you all

She worked from dusk to dawn, Monday to Sunday, January to December.

She was the host of the best Inn in Calbury. From the moment she could a hold a broom, she was destined a care-taker to be. The whole town, young and old, sick and healthy, rich and poor found shelter in the inn .

Her rooms were neat and cozy. From basement to attic. It had beautiful ornaments and an aura of love. The best room there was Garrett, man could discover the entire city; night lights, river and Calbury’s castle.

Guests came from far and wide, willing to pay millions to lodge in garrett, yet the Inn-keeper never gave out the room. The key stayed around her neck, like a precious stone, or something far valuable

The inn-keeper would visit the room, twice in a year, On New year and Christmas day.

The inn-keeper was once a vibrant woman, her son was her companion and peace. She spent every waking minute with him, and he loved the inn as much as she. Garrett was his favourite room too. He’d stay there whenever it had no occupant.

Then one day, a grave tragedy occurred. He’d seen the giant Christmas tree light up in the city square on Christmas eve but wanted to watch the fireworks too, not confined behind the room’s window, so he climbed out the window and sat on the roof. When the fire works was over, 2 hours past midnight, the boy hurried down from the roof to wish all a merry Christmas, but his foot slipped on icy snow and down he fell, 6 meters hitting the hard cobble-stone below.

The devastated Inn-keeper trod the heavy snowfall, the clinic was closed, she had to visit the Doctor’s home.

“Leave me alone, it’s a holiday! if he’s meant to, he’ll wake up soon”

Then she took him to the priest so he could pray for her sleeping son.

New year’s day was the day the doctor told her there was no way to save the boy. So she took him to the garrett room, swaddled him tight and lit some candles as he slept.

No day was ever the same for the Inn-keeper without her son. She toiled day and night, January to December to cater to other’s need and readily love them. Except for those few hours on Christmas and New year’s day, she never took a break, not even for lunch.

Yes, no price could be placed where her precious boy laid in rest, even till this very day.

The Christmas Magic

Sitting beside a warm furnace, trying to figure out what to write today. This is a tad out of my comfort zone as I didn’t grow up with holiday cheer and presents. And so for the past few days, I have been binging on movies as a desperate attempt to catch a whiff of the holiday fever.

Let’s see if I’ve been been able to understand this nordic tradition.

For some people, Christmas is about the gingerbread cookies, and marzipan. I especially love chestnuts. For some, it’s about the smell of fried rice and fish soup (or whatever the traditional food is in your region), as they share a very special meal with loved ones.

My favourite moment is the special look on people’s faces when they unwrap a gift from me. Right now, I am enjoying this moment with my sister and my Fiance’s family.

I suppose I have caught the symptoms of festivity; feel warm, loved and happy.

I wrote a little poetry, nothing fancy or especially good but it’s something to commemorate the season.

And it looks nothing like Christmas

Even as the wind blows steady

the sun reminds us that he’s in charge

only sight of snow is up the mountains.

Boys and girls close their eyes

and red bell glisten like fiery crystal

Gingerbread sprinkled with Cinnamon and frosting

sturdy pine trees rise towards formidable clouds.

There is magic all the way

It’s a blizzard out there

raining ice and what not

There’s no better feeling a warm furnace in a cozy home.

Shine baby Jesus shine

shimmy the night away on silver ice

A star paves the way, and you glow

even when the world slows done.

The bell of the catholic church chimes 12:00

Oh look, a shadow behind the chimney

perhaps it’s dasher, prancer and dancer

following the compass home to the North pole.

Leave chestnut roasting at the fire

or Gandalf chewing in a Christmas stocking

On Christmas night one things for sure

I’ll hug you as tight as a resplendent gift.

And as the last bite of marzipan disappears

The last candle blows in the wind

the last story is being told

to boys and girls all over the world.

And thus the story goes

twas the night before Christmas

the greatest magic is revealed to all

sharing love and peace both nigh and beyond.

Pure love and Poetry


Love sweet as a honeypot

Love that entices and wounds me in it’s grip

Pure love that oxidises, only getting darker, gentler, more poetic

as it vibrates in a frequency above all energies

Resonating like minds together, I mean twin souls

like twin souls I’m designed to resonate with you

Feel what you feel

Ache where you ache.

If you would let me,

let me feed you this poetry,

Poetic love as seasons change

Swaddle you in my arm long after the summer solstice is gone,

gone like the plague of jealousy

replaced by pure love and poetry.

Let me vibe with you across planets and dimensions

Inebriate on the language that rolls off your chest

and roll on your chest, like everyday is the last time.

I’ll taste your tongue like whipped cream

and smell your warm cheek as it it were waffles.

Love like the largest north star could not encompass

The magnitude of two exploding meteors showers.

If love had a sound, it would be jazzy blues

with a hint of funk as four saxophones breath out in one voice

and an undertone of bass, soothing enough to melt diamond hearts,

your colour and my palette, compatible.

Gliding on wings, till infinity and beyond

I would lose myself inside of you again and again,

till you find me.

you reach your arm around my waist, so boldly

Your souvenirs are the scratches I leave on your back

as you eat the fruit of longing, the peach of intellect

Sip from the dark berry, supple and juicy,

till your thoughts slow grind with mine, meditation.

Let me meditate in you for a while longer

on an bed of clouds in a warm mood, Chiado vibes

until pure love and poetry intervenes, yielding climax

and you’re heaving coz you’re out of breath, me too.

Then we can lie in a glisten of sweat, unashamed

because pure love and poetry is healing in motion.

How I got engaged

 Those video archives on the internet always seem longer, but my proposal took less than 2 mins, and now I have a new treasure for my memory box.

Our Beginning

We met 3 years ago on a dating app. Neither of knew what  we wanted, but a glitch in the time-space continuum turned two strangers into something more. We’ve had our fair share of turmoils, often breaking up for a varying lengthy periods. Despite being of the same age, we are polar opposites in more ways than one. I was emotionally unintelligent, whereas Viktor had a  more evolved thought process. Ultimately, My curiosity towards learning drew me to him. His objective views keep me grounded. We eventually decided to buckle down and figure out a common ground

The Nightmares

Since meeting my parents in June, I’ve had an inkling he was going to propose, which left me rather anxious. I had recurring nightmares, like Aliens possessing my body, forcing me to denounce him and creating an awkward scenario. In another, I was naked. Tired of the nightmares, I confronted him. We got into the details like the size of my finger and how the event should transpire. In the nightmares, it was public like airports or restaurants, and I wanted none of that.

Surprise Surprise

Despite eliminating one element of surprise, I still didn’t know when it’ll happen. When we arrived Lisbon last week, he told me he booked a boat tour. I pictured big bus sightseeing tour or something similar. I wasn’t even gonna dress up, then I saw him all suited up with his dressing shoes, so I changed everything on me. As a result, we were running late. 

As we arrived at the port, there were no big sight-seeing ship, instead we met an ocean skipper who took us to a sailing boat. I wanted to scream, he’d made me run out almost without a pair of earrings and it was just the two of us?  They could have waited since we booked the entire boat.

Let me sidetrack for a bit, I have a real time ( and numbers) disproportion. While my Fiancé would rather be always 7 mins early, I prefer to be there exactly on time, as you may have guessed,  this never happens as I’m always  late. Good timing is yet another thing I’m learning from him.

Boats are scary!

I got over it quickly when the boat started to move and the skipper narrated to us about the monuments. As we drifted father down the river, I walked (more like duck for fear of falling overboard) to the front of the boat to experience the full view. 

Perfect timing

He said he’d be right behind, yet he was talking secretively with our captain. I figured it was either about football or EU politics. Eventually he came at the perfect time… when the gust grew stronger and I got so cold. I hugged him very tightly. The song “moon river” came across my mind which translated into the poem I published HERE on Monday

I said Fix it

7 mins later, the sailor waltz over and asks us if we want a picture, I always want a picture when I look good.  we got up, me shaking like autumn leaves. In the next moment, he was searching his jacket for something, and I knew this was it.My reply to his question was “fix it”, a little inside joke between us, then I said yes.

Authenticity rocks

Later at the restaurant, he apologised for the size of my diamond. But one of his  most admirable qualities is his authenticity, something the rock on my finger glaringly reveals.  He could have bought Zirconia, or borrowed money from people in other to buy a ring bigger than his pay-cheque, but he stayed true to me, and most importantly to himself.

End note

It took less than 2 mins, but a lot of thought and planning was behind it, Some people prefer grand surprises, I got the perfect holiday gift I could ever wish for,  If you’re engaged, married, or have family who is, you have to share your story in the comments.

We’re leaving Portugal today and I’m so sad, but a part of my life will be connected to the river Tagus. Thank you for taking time away from your festive shopping to read my long ass story. Remain in his blessings.

Sailin’ to forever

The river waxed and waned

inviting us further into it’s intoxicating lush blues

which melded with the yellow sun

lending us it’s vibrant royal glow

beside me was him,  and he glowed also

I was captured like a sailor to a siren

Because the precedented fear I had was absolved

And I was free

Free to bask in his luscious touch

Free to let him linger from  my cheek to groin

Free to let the skies tell me a story

My favourite being the one of Tsui and Lai, the spirits of the skies

And I wondered if the azure waves crashing around us possessed a spirit too

But the wind exerted it’s hold on us

The hair on my back stood as it pushed and pulled

So I anchored myself to his arm and he drew me in

Far from the harsh meandering war 

I looked into his big cartoon eyes, they were ever so indecisive

I couldn’t tell if they were blue or grren

Gray or hazel

They were whatever the skies and water was

as indecisive as my heart has always been

wandering between  blue waters and green meadows,

gray clouds and hazel chestnut

But in that moment my heart found halcyon peace, securely in his arms

And I decided I wanted that love, those shoulders,

that smile, those eyes in my life

not only for tonight when the harsh wind gave me to to him

The one i’ trust in forever, even as two meteors collided.


He craves your thoughts, it’s true

on this most rufous Tuesday 

brooding  comets thus align

roughed anecdotes by tantalised masses

Hide yourself from incongruous judgement

this guise to rob your inner peace

shhh even the walls have ears

arm yourself with electric artillery

The silence of a falling  caribou

barely visible from the milky way

alchemized  in a broken solace

in lieu of all the haughty overture

His tongue betwixt with perpetual grievance

embroidered with disenchantment, nae ephemeral sadness

Hovers in the abyss of his mind

the inferno of dark fantasies awaits

He strolls in the endless corridor of subconscious manipulation

 shadow chasing the sons of man and demi gods

polishing up a chopping block 

such a wasteful shame, whose next?

Buoying in a runnel of sanctimonious skulls

Fear ornated with sugar and spice

equivalence of a cherished deception

the centrifugal force could not hold water

The king of sorrow, I’ve heard him called

whispering hubris lies to quaint vain ears

friend or fiend what does it matter

already bitten the fruit of death, you have.