Transylvania
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• Getting Frisky On Kevin Allison’s “Risk!”

  

  I spend a lot of time alone, in front of my computer, and staring at a screen. I guess I have a LOT in common with porn addicts, but my keyboard is sticky from tears. The life of a writer is lonely. Hold me.

  Even though I am pretty comfortable being emotionally open on paper, that’s because I’m not with you when you read this, or aware of your reaction. I don’t have to sit next to you to hear if you are laughing as you peruse through the 90 different euphemisms I use for my vagina. I am actually watching you from outside your window, so I can’t hear anything. OPEN YOUR FUCKING WINDOW ALREADY!

  There’s a safety to being hidden behind a screen because I am semi-protected from your response to me. Of course there are people who comment on my articles and say mean things, but don’t have to read those. I can just pretend everyone loves everything I say. Who cares if “bonertown23890947567839847” thinks I’m a dumb cunt who should be taken out back and shot,” because I never even read that comment! (*Chokes back more tears).

  Then last week my friend Miriam sent me an email saying how Kevin Allison – the comedian who started the podcast “RISK!”– was looking for submissions for his Boston show. At first I was like “Eh, every time I submit to things like this I get rejected, so what’s the point?” (*Tears of self-pity). It sat in my email box for days, just staring at me, reminding me of my insignificance in the universe. I noticed the deadline was soon, and said fuck it. I submitted this story about how my parents sent me to the Transylvanian Alps when I was 14, because seriously who the fuck does that?

  So it turns out that my story got selected to be on the show! Now here is the thing. I’ve never been on stage before, except for dance performances. My friend Grace was like, “just think of this as a noisy mouth dance,” which even though that made perfect sense, I was still SUPER intimidated. The weekend before was the first time I had ever spoken into a microphone! I’m on the board of the Monadnock International Film Festival, and I was giving out a grant I had created for a high school student filmmaker. I wasn’t nervous at all until I got on stage and saw all these people looking at me as if I was supposed to say something. I was a mess. My hair was in front of my face, and I looked like a 17-year old stoner who called myself Gangja Breath. I had no idea what to say, and was like “Uhhh I made this grant because education is good and stuff. Kids should like, make movies by trying to make movies or whatever… (long pause) San Dimas High school Football RULES!”

  I did a recording of my story so Kevin could give me notes. This is my favorite part of his email “One of the things that pops out at me about your story is this. It seems like most parents would be very careful about sending their 14-year old girl overseas without a chaperone or a highly reputed exchange program with references. Eastern Europe has been notorious for decades for culling young girls into sex slavery. At the very least, you could have been raped by the soccer playing boys you met over there. Most young people traveling overseas without guardians are at least college-age. And most American kids who travel go to stable, 1st world cities like London or Paris. Parents of the 90’s to today are constantly criticized for being way too overprotective. But your folks seem to have something else going on in this story.

  So it’s worth unpacking all that more. Because the audience will be thinking, “What was going on with this girl’s parents? How much good is it going to do for an American kid to get in touch with her Hungarian roots?”

  HAHAAHAHAHAH you bet your sweet ass I sent that to my parents so they could give me answers!!!!!!!! My mom was just like, “You were born in the 80’s – what do you want? I didn’t put a helmet on you to eat breakfast.”

  When I got to the venue, Laugh Boston, and realized that this whole event was part of a comedy festival and everyone performing was a PROFESSIONAL FUCKING COMEDIAN, I started to have a panic attack. I felt like I had to both explosive diarrhea and projectile vomit. It was a full house of over 200 people. Thank god my friend Grace came with me to be my moral support/self-confidence/person to alert me if my anal leakage was showing.

  I couldn’t admit that I was a total virgin to this experience, so I pretended that I at least finger-banged and gave rim jobs. As Grace left me in the Green Room to watch the show I was left alone, and started to shake. The comedienne that was going on before me, Robin Gelfenbien looked like a nice person, so I started talking to her to see if we could form a co-dependent relationship. She reminded me that being nervous was normal and to just be myself. She then checked to see if there were any brown stains on my pants, before going through her notes for her story. She had the genius idea of writing hers down, and bringing a printed copy. I was like FUCK FUCK FUCK… what is this story again? Why didn’t I think of that!? Grown ups do things like use printers!

  Kevin told his story and killed. It was about the time he got crabs, which reminded me of the time I caught Cuban crabs. (Technically it was body lice, but you know where they settled). Robin then went on stage, and I paced like an enslaved lion in a zoo. I tried breathing, but it just turned into hyperventilating so I stopped all together.

  Right before I almost passed out I remembered something. “Toni – you have a body! You should use your body on stage and say things with it!! Let your body help your story!”

  Thinking about my body got me out of my head. Kevin then introduced me, and I walked on stage. We shook hands, and he gave me the sweetest smile. It totally disarmed me, and I just started to tell my story. A story I have told countless times at the dinner table, whenever my parents are around and whenever they have guests… because seriously who sends their 14-year old daughter to the Transylvanian Alps to a place called Camp Commando?

  PS my parents totally did come to the show, so they could hear the story for the 400th time.

  PPS Here is my Dad’s reaction to the show.

  “Dear Toni,

  I haven’t yet written you to tell you how much I liked your stand-up.
  You have a real knack for live performance.
  Also, you were great at the microphone. Excellent distance… I didn’t hear a single puff into the audio. Wow, you’re a real pro.
  And I loved the material, even if I was the major foil.
  On the content, my only tweak… Camp “Kommando” is a vestige of the old Austro-Hungarian Empire, I believe. So it has nothing to do with
  Nazi death camps. The closest thing to Nazi behavior was that of the Romanian “Iron Cross” between the two big wars. My info on all this is wobbly, I grant you – as you know better than anyone, I should have done more homework back then – but, I’m pretty sure about Kommando. Even I wouldn’t send you to a death camp.
  Love,
  Dad”

  (Me getting ready for the show… I guess adults aren’t supposed to sleep with stuffed animals either. Fuck I really need a printer).

  

  April 27, 2015 • Adventures, Old School Stories • Views: 3990

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• My Murderess Family

  

  It is not everyday that your mother tells you that you are the direct descendent of a mass murderer.  Especially under the context of bragging to someone at a dinner party.

  My Mom: “You know Toni is Hungarian – from her father’s side.  She is actually related to Elizabeth Báthory.”

  Party Guest: “Oh really? Well isn’t that delightful.”

  Toni: “Who is Elizabeth Báthory?”

  My Mom: “Oh you remember.  She was that famous countess who murdered hundreds of virgins to bathe in their blood to retain her youth and beauty.”

  Toni: “What? How did I not know this?”

  My Mom: “I have told you this before.”

  Toni: “Well strangely enough I blocked it out.”

  My Mom: “Well don’t worry, according to your grandmother it was all blown out of proportion because she was a protestant.”

  Toni: “Right. Of course.”

  I decided to do a little research on my ancestor, and I am not sure I am glad I traveled down this sinister path.  Here are some of my reactions to her Wikipedia:

  “Elizabeth Báthory (1560-1614) inspired numerous stories during the 18th and 19th centuries. The most common motif of these works was that of the countess bathing in her victims’ blood to retain beauty or youth.  She has been labeled the most prolific female serial killer in history, although the number of murders is debated, and is remembered as the “Blood Countess” and Countess Dracula.

  MOST PROLIFIC FEMALE SERIAL KILLER IN HISTORY!  Although I don’t exactly think murdering is a fantastic pastime, if you are going to go for it, you might as well be the best right?  And Countess Dracula sounds kind of badass.  But call me old fashioned – doesn’t wanting eternal youth and beauty sound a little vain? I would almost rather she murdered all those girls because they told her that her thighs were chunky.

  “She was an educated woman who could read and write in four languages. There were several instances where she intervened on behalf of destitute women, including a woman whose husband was captured by the Turks and a woman whose daughter was raped and impregnated.  1578, Her husband Nádasdy became the chief commander of Hungarian troops, leading them to war against the Ottomans. With her husband away at war, Elizabeth Báthory managed business affairs and the estates. That role usually included providing for the Hungarian and Slovak peasants, even medical care”

  Okay so she wasn’t all bad… She didn’t brutally slaughter everyone.  Reading and writing 4 languages! That is pretty impressive!  Not to mention that she had her own version of Obama- Care. Probably branded it “Báthory-Benefit for those I have yet to massacre.”

  “According to all this testimony, her initial victims were the adolescent daughters of local peasants, many of whom were lured to Csejte by offers of well-paid work as maidservants in the castle.  Abductions were said to have occurred as well. The atrocities described most consistently included severe beatings, burning or mutilation of hands, biting the flesh off the faces, arms and other body parts, freezing or starving to death. The use of needles was also mentioned by the collaborators in court.”

  Oh dear… that’s pretty bad.  Did she really need to mutilate hands?  Seems a tad unnecessary.

   

  “The exact number of young women tortured and killed by Elizabeth Báthory is unknown, though it is often speculated to be as high as 650, between the years 1585 and 1610. The estimates differ greatly. During the trial and before their execution, Szentes and Ficko reported 36 and 37 respectively, during their periods of service. The other defendants estimated a number of 50 or higher.”

  That is a pretty huge discrepancy.  And who has the time to kill 650 people?? That is a full time job.  Your jaw would get exhausted from all that face biting.  650 seems like a bit of an exaggeration to me.  But even the low-ball number is still a lot of girls to kill.  This chick seems like kind of a cunt.

  “László Nagy has argued that Elizabeth Báthory was a victim of a conspiracy, a view opposed by others. Nagy argued that the proceedings were largely politically motivated. The theory is consistent with Hungarian history at that time. There was great conflict between religions, including Protestant ones, and this was related to the extension of Habsburg power over Hungary. As a Transylvanian Protestant aristocrat, Elizabeth belonged to a group generally opposed to the Habsburgs.”

  Okay Laszlo… I hope you are right because I am feeling pretty uncomfortable right about now.

  “Thurzó debated further proceedings with Elizabeth’s son Paul and two of her sons-in-law. A trial and execution would have caused a public scandal and disgraced a noble and influential family (which at the time ruled Transylvania), and Elizabeth’s considerable property would have been seized by the crown. Thurzó, along with Paul and her two sons-in-law, originally planned for Elizabeth to be spirited away to a nunnery, but as accounts of her murder of the daughters of lesser nobility spread, it was agreed that Elizabeth Báthory should be kept under strict house arrest, but that further punishment should be avoided.  King Matthias requested that Elizabeth be sentenced to death. It was also determined that Matthias would not have to repay his large debt to her, for which he lacked sufficient funds.”

  Well… this seems kinda shady King Matthias.  But she still did seriously get away with murder.

  “During the trial, dozens of witnesses and survivors, sometimes up to 35 a day, testified. All but one of her servants testified against her, and the one who refused had her eyes gouged out and her breasts removed before being burned at the stake. In addition to the testimony, the court also examined the skeletons and cadaver parts found as evidence.”

  Okay so it may not have been in good form for Báthory to savagely annihilate all those virgins, but seems like a pretty twisted society that would gouge out some eyes and cut her boobies off.  Maybe she wasn’t in the best of company?

  “Three of the defendants – Semtész, Jó and Ficko – were condemned to death. The sentences were carried out immediately. Before being burned at the stake, Semtész and Jó had their fingers ripped off their hands with hot pokers, while Ficko, who was deemed less culpable, was beheaded, and his body burned. Benická was sentenced to life imprisonment, since recorded testimony indicated that she was dominated and bullied by the other women.”

  What’s with ripping off hands and mutilating them?? Do we still do that?

  “Báthory was never brought to trial, but her family had her imprisoned in Čachtice Castle for life. She was kept bricked in a set of rooms, with only small slits left open for ventilation and the passing of meals. She remained there for four years, until her death. On 21 August 1614, Elizabeth Báthory was found dead in her room.”

  Okay this is all really awful.  But she just wanted to stay young and alive for eternity right? At least she had a purpose and wasn’t just killing for the fun of it.

  “This legend appeared in print for the first time in 1729, in the Jesuit scholar László Turóczi’s Tragica Historia, the first written account of the Báthory case. At the beginning of the 19th century, this certainty was questioned, and sadistic pleasure was considered a far more plausible motive for Elizabeth Báthory’s crimes.”

  Oh.  Huh.  Yeah.  Soooooo

  Although my mom can flippantly say I am the distant spawn of this beast of a woman, I have to admit this is all quite disturbing.  I hope that Laszlo and my grandmother are right…. that this is all just a Protestant propaganda conspiracy theory.  But I am not so sure.  So to all those virgins who were murdered by the evil of Báthory’s hands… SORRY you were killed and SORRY you never had sex!!!

  

  May 28, 2013 • 2 years old, Family Drama, Musings, Talking and Not Talking • Views: 7037

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