Proof of Theorem

To remind you of what we were trying to show:
Hypothesis: Let R ∈ Wellesley 2011 ∩ Budapest Semesters in Mathematics. Suppose R is dance-, math-, computer-, and, often, just-plain-crazy.
Claim: Anything can happen

Proof: I pet baby pigs at a sausage festival, discovered my talent for pasta salad and rice pudding, went to my first bar, wandered the city at 2 a.m., learned the difference between good and bad memorials, went crazy for Kinder Pingui, heard the Megillah in Hungarian, nearly cut myself on someone’s giant cigarette box costume, learned how teleportation works, danced at a club surrounded by Jewish pirates, vampires, devils, etc., rode the night bus in full ghost costume/makeup, traveled 45 minutes both ways to take pictures of myself abusing Soviet statues, learned how to be a good Soviet spy, went to a teahouse in a treehouse, introduced my roommate to hamentashen, window-shopped in Vienna at 9 pm, attempted to see an entire city in twelve hours, had my first hostel experience, learned and forgot the Hungarian version of eeny-meeny-miney-mo, watched folk dancers in the Budapest metro, burned all ten fingers in an attempt to make lasagna (which turned out fabulous!), discovered a few drinks I like (and many more that I don’t), terrorized several thrift stores, had to relearn middle-school geometry, tried and failed to find a bookstore 3 TIMES before finally making it, walked the entire length of Lido, was stunned by the beauty of the Adriatic, spent hours in an old/rare bookstore in Venice, watched Chabad men dancing in the middle of the old Venetian ghetto, lived for a week on gelato and licorice, held a seder while reading prayers off my laptop, made matzah ball soup completely from scratch, played football and climbed a tree on Margit island, had to admit defeat in a math class, derived the Heisenberg uncertainty principle (sort of), was baffled by Hungarian tango, dodged baby Germans at the Szechenyi baths, learned basic lindy hop in exchange for teaching basic rumba, risked getting drunk off Hungarian chocolate, visited a museum devoted almost entirely to salami, had a fabulous dinner in Szeged, gaped at Hungarian folk dancers in the square, visited a museum with multiple personality disorder, covered my kitchen in flour while attempting to make challah, watched Mongols dismember cabbage at a cheese festival, watched amateur belly dancers at the same festival, decorated a cookie and made friends with an older Hungarian woman who spoke no English at the same festival as the previous 2, rocked Hungarian DDR, spent one of the most amazing weekends of my life dancing in Romania, argued abortion with a Hungarian computer nerd, danced in the middle of the Brasov main square, broke my record for staying out late by dancing for 7 hours straight, learned the rules of water polo, climbed a tree in my socks (how a tree got in my socks I'll never know), passed all my finals, dominated a karaoke bar and several dance floors across the city, was sexually harassed by a water slide, made so many new friends, both American and Hungarian, learned dozens of new dances, and fell so much love with a city and a group of people that I had to book a flight back for the end of summer.

Q.E.D. bitches, Q.E.D.