Fragments From My Sketchbook


Being called Erika is one of my recurring problems, just as well as being called Elvira, Edina, Alice and Alexandra. You might think that Elizabeth is quite a common name, but not in Hungary. So people try to be clever and correct the name I just told them. Because no way, I am really called „Eliza”, pffffft, please, that's stupid. 

Doing my work as a journalist I often have to call people, and if there's one thing I hate more than letter distortion, it's talking on the phone. Especially to complete strangers like the civil registrars of my town. And I wasn't exactly their favourite person for making them do so much extra work for just a tiny regular column in our newspaper... And of course they never got the name either. But that day! That day something happened, and the sky became bluer, and the sun shone better... They called me

Hungarian translation
Aznap magabiztosság és valamiféle optimizmus kezdett eluralkodni rajta.
„Az anyakönyvvezetők úgy tűnik, már nem utálnak, és ma sikerült nem Erikának szólítaniuk! Sztár vagyok!”

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