I just found a couple of poems I wrote while I was seeing the last guy I was seeing. I guess they are dedicated to him.
Untitled #1
I don’t want roses,
or shiny boxes of candy,
or cute fuzzy animals,
nights out at elegant restaurants.
I don’t want you to dress up
hold the door for me
pay the bill for me
order music for me
even sing to me
(though you know that you can’t).
All I want
is the look in your beautiful eyes
which says, without any pretense
or aplomb, or dramatic clichés:
“Baby, I love you, and I’m here to stay”,
as you’re clad in a hoodie and slacks
in the cheap dingy diner
two blocks down from our door,
with the splendid inelegance
of unkempt morning grumpiness.
If I had that, I’d laugh till I drop
at The Knight, neatly hugged
by his shining, superfluous armor.
Untitled #2
It’s not that hard
to love me –
I promise you, I do;
I will annoy you, drive you mad
and you will waste
many a gorgeous plate
in my direction.
But at the end,
when we collect our shards
after the stormy outburst,
it’s really not that hard
to love me.
It is true –
I may sometimes lose track
of where your light is;
it is true –
I may sometimes go ‘stray.
But at the end,
when I sweep out my ego
and come back to my home
(which is your heart),
you’ll see, again, and not to much surprise
it’s really not that hard
to love me.
For I love
without a complex contract;
for I love
without you fearing
I may change my mind –
tomorrow, or next week, or through the rain…
All I need, all I want,
is just the same naïve, imprudent,
pure, uncalculating, honest,
sometimes boyishly uncouth,
sometimes frighteningly deep,
often sharper than a knife
(and yet smoother than black velvet)
Love. You have. For me.
‘Cause anyway, it’s all we get
and all of worth to have.
Sunday, July 12, 2009
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Alienation
Warning: I tend to philosophize from time to time and this is one of those times. Proceed at your own risk.
I have been noticing something for quite a while now, something I felt when I first came to the US, something that, although in a different guise, I have felt since I moved to Seattle. There really isn't in my head a coherent, easy to grasp explanation I can give of what that thing is. I will give it my best shot, as much as my verbal proficiency allows.
I have always felt that people here (in the US) are so lonely. I would be walking in the streets and I'd catch someone's eyes - what I would almost always see, or at least interpret from what I see, is this strange mixture of an acute desire to communicate, to feel close; and on the other hand a fear to approach the other person, a fear of the other that runs very deep. In most of those cases the brief eye encounter leaves me with a sense of sadness, a sense that the person whose eyes I've caught is lost, disoriented, that they need a hand.
The reason I'm writing about this is because I've experienced the feeling many times, almost daily. It is to the point I try to avoid looking at people, because I want to avoid the painfully demanding stare which seems to scream "smile at me, give a sign that you're willing to communicate with me". I see so many people who seem so starved of affection, of real communication as opposed to an exchange of platitudes. At the same time, it seems harder and harder to break people's walls and get to the person inside - even when we're together, we're often really by ourselves, we are in a comfort zone described by the distance we keep from others.
This is why I'm also sometimes worried about the future, about a time when natural resources will run thin (oil, water) and that will create strife between people - as movies often depict, when humanity is faced with adversity, instead of growing closer it grows further apart, and people lose their humanity altogether. I've thought long and hard what could be done to change this, what I could do to change this. I consciously try to be the kind of person people would not feel afraid to approach, the kind of person who actually cares about others and wants to be their friend. Work is one of the places where I see a lot of people who make small, uncertain, fearful steps when it comes to interacting with others, and I consider it a good training ground for developing the qualities I need to be that kind of person.
What's your take on this - have you noticed it? Is it as tangible for you as it is for me? I sometimes wonder if I'm simply imagining things.
I have been noticing something for quite a while now, something I felt when I first came to the US, something that, although in a different guise, I have felt since I moved to Seattle. There really isn't in my head a coherent, easy to grasp explanation I can give of what that thing is. I will give it my best shot, as much as my verbal proficiency allows.
I have always felt that people here (in the US) are so lonely. I would be walking in the streets and I'd catch someone's eyes - what I would almost always see, or at least interpret from what I see, is this strange mixture of an acute desire to communicate, to feel close; and on the other hand a fear to approach the other person, a fear of the other that runs very deep. In most of those cases the brief eye encounter leaves me with a sense of sadness, a sense that the person whose eyes I've caught is lost, disoriented, that they need a hand.
The reason I'm writing about this is because I've experienced the feeling many times, almost daily. It is to the point I try to avoid looking at people, because I want to avoid the painfully demanding stare which seems to scream "smile at me, give a sign that you're willing to communicate with me". I see so many people who seem so starved of affection, of real communication as opposed to an exchange of platitudes. At the same time, it seems harder and harder to break people's walls and get to the person inside - even when we're together, we're often really by ourselves, we are in a comfort zone described by the distance we keep from others.
This is why I'm also sometimes worried about the future, about a time when natural resources will run thin (oil, water) and that will create strife between people - as movies often depict, when humanity is faced with adversity, instead of growing closer it grows further apart, and people lose their humanity altogether. I've thought long and hard what could be done to change this, what I could do to change this. I consciously try to be the kind of person people would not feel afraid to approach, the kind of person who actually cares about others and wants to be their friend. Work is one of the places where I see a lot of people who make small, uncertain, fearful steps when it comes to interacting with others, and I consider it a good training ground for developing the qualities I need to be that kind of person.
What's your take on this - have you noticed it? Is it as tangible for you as it is for me? I sometimes wonder if I'm simply imagining things.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
I'm bored in my apartment
so I decided it was time for a blog post. I was recently to Dartmouth for the graduation ceremony of Class of 2009. I'm covering this in excruciating, and often unnecessary, detail on Facebook so I won't reiterate the details here. However, I'm going to say a few words about how it made me feel.
I guess this trip to Dartmouth finally allowed me to let go of my imaginary lost paradise and get going with my life. For a long time, I didn't want to interact with Seattle, its people and what else it had to offer, because it was not the same as what I had at Dartmouth. For a long time, I felt separated from my closest people, and I had started thinking there was no point in trying to create lasting relationships, because another "forceful separation" would duly come.
Then I went to Dartmouth, and had a much longed for, much dreamed about, much magnified and mythologized reunion with the people that made Dartmouth home for me. And what I saw was very unequivocal, and very clear - they had all moved on, nobody was trying to hold on to a past snapshot of time. I guess that allowed me to move on also. The invisible wall inside of me that shielded me from my new home crumbled, and I realized that I can always go back to the period between 2004-2008 in my mind without being its prisoner at the same time.
My friends, unknowingly, helped me go on once again. My mother's prophecy turned right - "things are going to sort themselves out when you go there." So they did.
I guess this trip to Dartmouth finally allowed me to let go of my imaginary lost paradise and get going with my life. For a long time, I didn't want to interact with Seattle, its people and what else it had to offer, because it was not the same as what I had at Dartmouth. For a long time, I felt separated from my closest people, and I had started thinking there was no point in trying to create lasting relationships, because another "forceful separation" would duly come.
Then I went to Dartmouth, and had a much longed for, much dreamed about, much magnified and mythologized reunion with the people that made Dartmouth home for me. And what I saw was very unequivocal, and very clear - they had all moved on, nobody was trying to hold on to a past snapshot of time. I guess that allowed me to move on also. The invisible wall inside of me that shielded me from my new home crumbled, and I realized that I can always go back to the period between 2004-2008 in my mind without being its prisoner at the same time.
My friends, unknowingly, helped me go on once again. My mother's prophecy turned right - "things are going to sort themselves out when you go there." So they did.
Sunday, April 26, 2009
Long-postponed update
It has been nearly three months since I last updated this blog, and it's hard for me to figure out which of the things that have happened since are important enough to be put here. I will nevertheless attempt to bring up the main points.
Work-wise, things have been going well - my mid-year review which was completed sometime in February was very positive, my manager calling me a "real asset" and "boon" for Microsoft, also going as far as to say "I'm proud and pleased to be your colleague". All of this was, frankly, unexpected, because I never thought the job I was doing was all that. My job is to fix bugs in several areas of Windows, and an easy measure of performance is the number of bugs fixed over a certain period. This is, of course, relative, because some bugs are harder to fix than others. However, I always felt a little self-conscious because my bug count was lower compared to the average for my team. Nevertheless, my manager was more willing to look at the fact that they were also hard, tricky bugs which didn't always lend themselves nicely to the techniques we employ for solving problems. All in all, I was a winner, and I could breathe again.
I was also given a software project to work on, which brought me back a little to college days when we'd have a software assignment, only this time I was flying solo and there was no class to prepare me for the task. It is an interesting project (the details of which I don't wanna go into), but I had to learn a lot of new technologies and source code to even start doing something useful. In a way, it reminded me of my thesis, where I didn't start writing until the latter half of my second (and last) term of thesis research, simply because the area had been completely unknown to me prior to embarking on the project. I almost feel that it's always going to be like that for me in computer-related fields: there is simply too much to grasp by a simple human being, and frankly I don't spend much of my time outside of work dealing with computers. (Which will be expanded on in a different post)
As far as love life goes, I had taken a hiatus from dating after Korian, because I was emotionally tired and needed some time to recollect my thoughts; and also because now, unlike any other time in my life, I was willing to wait to find the right person. I have made in my life choices based on loneliness, and they have rarely had good outcomes, so I vowed to not do it again. Indeed, for about 3 months after I officially "broke up" with Korian, I didn't date anyone. There was this one guy I met in the club in (I think) late January, who seemed to me like a good dancer, and he was also cute, so I demonstrated my interest. After some ambiguous back-and-forth I got bored and decided to leave the club, and surprisingly he followed me. He drove me to my place, and we parted after a few sweet kisses and promises to hang out. These promises never materialized, and I lost interest soon thereafter.
Then in March I started going again to the club which had thrown me out for 6 months. Yes, indeed, I respected the 6-month ban, and I hadn't set foot there since October. I remember the very first time I went there in March - I was very very nervous and tried to keep a low profile, usually stuck in the thickest crowd of people so as to be less noticeable. I was so preoccupied with that that I forgot to have fun. But over time my concerns dissipated, mostly due to the fact that the guards either didn't recognize me anymore, or didn't care anymore - both ways it was good for me :) I was very glad, because this is the only club near where I live which plays my kind of music. It had been somewhat of an ordeal going to the other clubs and grooving to hours of trashy dance and Euro disco music.
Some things had changed in the club, but some hadn't - in particular, there was a guy I'd had a crush on since I arrived in Seattle. He is, or used to be, one of the go-go boys in the club, and we had on many occasions exchanged suggestive glances and smiles. It was a Saturday night and we did all these gestures again. Then the party was over and everyone started filing out of the club. When I finally got my jacket from coat check and got out, this guy was standing there outside by himself. I don't recall if he smiled at me or not, but I went up to him and said "I like you very much", and to prove my point I gave him a kiss on the lips. He didn't resist, in fact he got into it, and then it turned out he'd had a crush on me too, and had wondered if I'd ever do anything. I was beside myself that night. I remember in my drunken euphoria, as I was stumbling into the walls of my apartment while trying to change into dry clothes for the next club, I was uttering prayers - something like "God, please don't let me screw up this one". I was all smiles when I went to work the following Monday.
In fact we had a chance to hang out on the Sunday of that week, and got to know each other better. I was surprised at how many similarities there were between our tastes, favorite things and even life stories. This were looking up. I was trying to guard my enthusiasm. I'm usually the one guilty of getting overexcited about a future prospect. I tend to rush things to happen. I think it's the invisible clock whose presence I've been feeling the past couple of years, this pressing feeling that "life is short" and everything has to happen right now or it may never have a chance to happen. Either way, I resolved to abandon my ways and approach this one like an adult, or at least like what an adult was supposed to act like according to many movies, friends, and word of mouth. I was just taking it easy.
Then the next week we agreed to watch some movies at my place and cuddle. I think it was a Sunday again. And the days leading up to that Sunday were perhaps some of the most embarrassing, nerve-wracking days I'd had in the recent past. All the uncertainties, negative self-perceptions and fears that had been dormant somewhere in the depths of my mind sprang up into full wakefulness, causing me to feel like the ugly swan's best friend - fat, boring, unworthy of attention, unlovable. I guess I felt threatened by this guy's self-confidence, the ease with which he seemed to display his body in public, the air he had of someone who can get whatever he wants, as he later said in words. He told me stories of the people who were, or had been after him. He told me how people were jealous of him and talked behind his back. He told me other things that made me feel like just another one of those seemingly endless members of his fanclub, I felt little and unimportant and a temporary distraction. Prior to his coming to my place, I had literally scrubbed the apartment squeaky clean - I hadn't myself seen it like that since 2008. But I just felt so ashamed of how my apartment looked and what he'd think of it, that I lost some sleep over making it pretty and spotless.
But I guess all of that had to happen, because at the end of it I was so emotionally exhausted that things just went into their right places in my head, and I realized how stupid, childish and self-destructive these thoughts were. I woke up, as if from a deep sleep, to realize that I was the kind of guy most people would be happy to have, and one that can offer a lot and be a lot for the other. It was refreshing and overnight my outlook changed to the point that I felt great calmness and clarity fall upon me. I realized that there was a disconnect between me and this guy, something that I can't really place but I can mostly easily explain as this: you know when there is shared interest between you and another person, you know the feeling that even when you're not talking the other person is thinking of you, you know how the two of you make little gestures to show the other "I'm still interested". I wasn't getting that signal, that feeling. So things ended in my mind, maybe about a week or two ago. Since then, said boy has sent me a few text messages, something to the effect "I wanna hang out with you" but then I respond and he doesn't say anything, it's this weird communication thing that I seem to have had with everyone before him.
Right now, I'm in bed with a nice book , thinking whether to venture out in the sunny day again, or go to the gym, or just chat and listen to music, or finally do the dishes. I would, however, appreciate a bit of that old-school romance, where I have to do less guesswork, when fewer things happen over text messages, and when it's clear if the person in front of you really likes you or not. Maybe I'm asking for too much but oh well, I always have :) Otherwise I wouldn't be here writing this blog entry.
Work-wise, things have been going well - my mid-year review which was completed sometime in February was very positive, my manager calling me a "real asset" and "boon" for Microsoft, also going as far as to say "I'm proud and pleased to be your colleague". All of this was, frankly, unexpected, because I never thought the job I was doing was all that. My job is to fix bugs in several areas of Windows, and an easy measure of performance is the number of bugs fixed over a certain period. This is, of course, relative, because some bugs are harder to fix than others. However, I always felt a little self-conscious because my bug count was lower compared to the average for my team. Nevertheless, my manager was more willing to look at the fact that they were also hard, tricky bugs which didn't always lend themselves nicely to the techniques we employ for solving problems. All in all, I was a winner, and I could breathe again.
I was also given a software project to work on, which brought me back a little to college days when we'd have a software assignment, only this time I was flying solo and there was no class to prepare me for the task. It is an interesting project (the details of which I don't wanna go into), but I had to learn a lot of new technologies and source code to even start doing something useful. In a way, it reminded me of my thesis, where I didn't start writing until the latter half of my second (and last) term of thesis research, simply because the area had been completely unknown to me prior to embarking on the project. I almost feel that it's always going to be like that for me in computer-related fields: there is simply too much to grasp by a simple human being, and frankly I don't spend much of my time outside of work dealing with computers. (Which will be expanded on in a different post)
As far as love life goes, I had taken a hiatus from dating after Korian, because I was emotionally tired and needed some time to recollect my thoughts; and also because now, unlike any other time in my life, I was willing to wait to find the right person. I have made in my life choices based on loneliness, and they have rarely had good outcomes, so I vowed to not do it again. Indeed, for about 3 months after I officially "broke up" with Korian, I didn't date anyone. There was this one guy I met in the club in (I think) late January, who seemed to me like a good dancer, and he was also cute, so I demonstrated my interest. After some ambiguous back-and-forth I got bored and decided to leave the club, and surprisingly he followed me. He drove me to my place, and we parted after a few sweet kisses and promises to hang out. These promises never materialized, and I lost interest soon thereafter.
Then in March I started going again to the club which had thrown me out for 6 months. Yes, indeed, I respected the 6-month ban, and I hadn't set foot there since October. I remember the very first time I went there in March - I was very very nervous and tried to keep a low profile, usually stuck in the thickest crowd of people so as to be less noticeable. I was so preoccupied with that that I forgot to have fun. But over time my concerns dissipated, mostly due to the fact that the guards either didn't recognize me anymore, or didn't care anymore - both ways it was good for me :) I was very glad, because this is the only club near where I live which plays my kind of music. It had been somewhat of an ordeal going to the other clubs and grooving to hours of trashy dance and Euro disco music.
Some things had changed in the club, but some hadn't - in particular, there was a guy I'd had a crush on since I arrived in Seattle. He is, or used to be, one of the go-go boys in the club, and we had on many occasions exchanged suggestive glances and smiles. It was a Saturday night and we did all these gestures again. Then the party was over and everyone started filing out of the club. When I finally got my jacket from coat check and got out, this guy was standing there outside by himself. I don't recall if he smiled at me or not, but I went up to him and said "I like you very much", and to prove my point I gave him a kiss on the lips. He didn't resist, in fact he got into it, and then it turned out he'd had a crush on me too, and had wondered if I'd ever do anything. I was beside myself that night. I remember in my drunken euphoria, as I was stumbling into the walls of my apartment while trying to change into dry clothes for the next club, I was uttering prayers - something like "God, please don't let me screw up this one". I was all smiles when I went to work the following Monday.
In fact we had a chance to hang out on the Sunday of that week, and got to know each other better. I was surprised at how many similarities there were between our tastes, favorite things and even life stories. This were looking up. I was trying to guard my enthusiasm. I'm usually the one guilty of getting overexcited about a future prospect. I tend to rush things to happen. I think it's the invisible clock whose presence I've been feeling the past couple of years, this pressing feeling that "life is short" and everything has to happen right now or it may never have a chance to happen. Either way, I resolved to abandon my ways and approach this one like an adult, or at least like what an adult was supposed to act like according to many movies, friends, and word of mouth. I was just taking it easy.
Then the next week we agreed to watch some movies at my place and cuddle. I think it was a Sunday again. And the days leading up to that Sunday were perhaps some of the most embarrassing, nerve-wracking days I'd had in the recent past. All the uncertainties, negative self-perceptions and fears that had been dormant somewhere in the depths of my mind sprang up into full wakefulness, causing me to feel like the ugly swan's best friend - fat, boring, unworthy of attention, unlovable. I guess I felt threatened by this guy's self-confidence, the ease with which he seemed to display his body in public, the air he had of someone who can get whatever he wants, as he later said in words. He told me stories of the people who were, or had been after him. He told me how people were jealous of him and talked behind his back. He told me other things that made me feel like just another one of those seemingly endless members of his fanclub, I felt little and unimportant and a temporary distraction. Prior to his coming to my place, I had literally scrubbed the apartment squeaky clean - I hadn't myself seen it like that since 2008. But I just felt so ashamed of how my apartment looked and what he'd think of it, that I lost some sleep over making it pretty and spotless.
But I guess all of that had to happen, because at the end of it I was so emotionally exhausted that things just went into their right places in my head, and I realized how stupid, childish and self-destructive these thoughts were. I woke up, as if from a deep sleep, to realize that I was the kind of guy most people would be happy to have, and one that can offer a lot and be a lot for the other. It was refreshing and overnight my outlook changed to the point that I felt great calmness and clarity fall upon me. I realized that there was a disconnect between me and this guy, something that I can't really place but I can mostly easily explain as this: you know when there is shared interest between you and another person, you know the feeling that even when you're not talking the other person is thinking of you, you know how the two of you make little gestures to show the other "I'm still interested". I wasn't getting that signal, that feeling. So things ended in my mind, maybe about a week or two ago. Since then, said boy has sent me a few text messages, something to the effect "I wanna hang out with you" but then I respond and he doesn't say anything, it's this weird communication thing that I seem to have had with everyone before him.
Right now, I'm in bed with a nice book , thinking whether to venture out in the sunny day again, or go to the gym, or just chat and listen to music, or finally do the dishes. I would, however, appreciate a bit of that old-school romance, where I have to do less guesswork, when fewer things happen over text messages, and when it's clear if the person in front of you really likes you or not. Maybe I'm asking for too much but oh well, I always have :) Otherwise I wouldn't be here writing this blog entry.
Sunday, February 1, 2009
Winter Break, et cetera
Dear diary,
It's 2:04am on a Saturday night, and I, being a lame old man, find that there is nothing more exhilarating to do than to update my stupid blahg. But truth be told, I felt too lazy to shave, pick slutty clothes, put them on and walk aaaaall the way to the club (which is 3 blocks away), dance to the same songs I danced to last night and see the same people I saw last night.
But I digress, I was going to tell the fabulous story about my winter break in Bulgaria. As I indicated in my last Facebook note (which really should have been an entry in here), there were some interesting aspects of my getting there. But eventually I did, and I arrived with the same flight to Varna as a guy from Paris who, just like me, had been stranded there for a day. My mom met me at the airport, and politely used my interpreter skills to explain to the young Parisian gentleman that no, in fact it's not a good idea to take one of the cabs waiting right outside the terminal exit. There are some aspects of Bulgarian cab services that would require their own blog entry.
So she called us two cabs, one for me and her and one for the guy, since he had to get to some hotel on Golden Sands. He gave me his name and asked me to find him on Facebook, so we could maybe hang out in the city while we were both there. I tried but his profile was not available to everyone on Facebook, so we never really met. I still hope that didn't make too bad of an impression.
Since I got to Bulgaria on December 23, I had to do all my Christmas shopping on the 24th. I'm pretty convinced that confession would bring a heart attack to most American families, but I had no choice. Seattle was ice-bound right before I left so I didn't want to break my backbone while searching for an extravagant coffee cup gift. I was hoping I would arrive in Sofia on the 22nd, but that didn't happen either. So I was stuck with the Day Before Christmas. We decided to buy a microwave for the house as a family gift, plus a little something for everyone to feel a bit spoiled. I had withdrawn 400 Bulgarian leva from an ATM as I thought that was the transaction limit.
Later that night my mom and I decided to hit the stores. Having worked at Microsoft for several months now, I had something in my credit card and I wanted to show off a bit, so we went to a somewhat pricy jeans store, and I told my mom to choose whatever she wants. I myself picked three post-modernist pairs of jeans, and a couple of half-dressy, half-yes-I-will-fuck-you shirts, and combined we had a bill of about 800 leva. I went to the nearest ATM, and guess what! The 400 leva limit was not per transaction, but per day. Needless to say that was embarrassing, but we had enough money to buy half the shit, and the other half I paid for the next day. The moral - thou shalt not be boastful, or something.
All the while, I was thinking how I was going to surprise the guy I was dating at the time with my new outfits. I knew he liked how I look in black, so one of the shirts was an insanely hot black shirt. However, as it happened, he never wrote or call me the whole break, and I broke up with him shortly after my return to the New Continent. But that's besides the point.
What's really fun and bonkers is that 2 days later, I got sick. Really sick. I proceeded to get sicker the entire frickin' break, and I missed all there was to miss - my HS class reunion, my friends' reunion, nights out with folks I had been planning on for a while. What made it worse is that we don't really happen to be in Varna at the same time anymore - a lot of the people I know, just like me, went somewhere around the world, or are at least always in transit, so it's hard to arrange for all of us to be there at the same time. This vacation was one of those times, so I was, well, fucked (and not even the good way).
But my ailment deserves a special mention - I was sick with tonsilitis. Nothing weird so far, but my tonsils were actually removed when I was 4.5 years old, or so the doctors said. But as it happens, 18 years later, I discovered that yes, I do have tonsils (or fractions thereof) which are sufficient to get me sick. I remember arguing with the doctor who was shining a flashlight at my throat, and then with the second doctor who also gave it a try, and then their astonished looks as both of them concluded that either I was absolutely insane, or they were absolutely blind.
I got better right when I had to leave, so there isn't much more to say really. The one week that I was sick was really awful - I hadn't been so sick in many years. But I couldn't even be sick in private - my mom and grandma, who hadn't see me sick since before I left Bulgaria in 2004, really panicked and made sure they gave me their constant, undivided, forceful yet loving, and helpful yet utterly annoying, attention. But perhaps that only made me get better faster :)
Then I came to the US and ended my love life, and started focusing rather on my work and hobbies. It's been a nice break, and I learned a lot about what I need, want, and can accept. Now that we have mid-year performance reviews at MSFT, things are looking good and I'm looking optimistic about what the new year is going to bring me.
Hasta la vista!
It's 2:04am on a Saturday night, and I, being a lame old man, find that there is nothing more exhilarating to do than to update my stupid blahg. But truth be told, I felt too lazy to shave, pick slutty clothes, put them on and walk aaaaall the way to the club (which is 3 blocks away), dance to the same songs I danced to last night and see the same people I saw last night.
But I digress, I was going to tell the fabulous story about my winter break in Bulgaria. As I indicated in my last Facebook note (which really should have been an entry in here), there were some interesting aspects of my getting there. But eventually I did, and I arrived with the same flight to Varna as a guy from Paris who, just like me, had been stranded there for a day. My mom met me at the airport, and politely used my interpreter skills to explain to the young Parisian gentleman that no, in fact it's not a good idea to take one of the cabs waiting right outside the terminal exit. There are some aspects of Bulgarian cab services that would require their own blog entry.
So she called us two cabs, one for me and her and one for the guy, since he had to get to some hotel on Golden Sands. He gave me his name and asked me to find him on Facebook, so we could maybe hang out in the city while we were both there. I tried but his profile was not available to everyone on Facebook, so we never really met. I still hope that didn't make too bad of an impression.
Since I got to Bulgaria on December 23, I had to do all my Christmas shopping on the 24th. I'm pretty convinced that confession would bring a heart attack to most American families, but I had no choice. Seattle was ice-bound right before I left so I didn't want to break my backbone while searching for an extravagant coffee cup gift. I was hoping I would arrive in Sofia on the 22nd, but that didn't happen either. So I was stuck with the Day Before Christmas. We decided to buy a microwave for the house as a family gift, plus a little something for everyone to feel a bit spoiled. I had withdrawn 400 Bulgarian leva from an ATM as I thought that was the transaction limit.
Later that night my mom and I decided to hit the stores. Having worked at Microsoft for several months now, I had something in my credit card and I wanted to show off a bit, so we went to a somewhat pricy jeans store, and I told my mom to choose whatever she wants. I myself picked three post-modernist pairs of jeans, and a couple of half-dressy, half-yes-I-will-fuck-you shirts, and combined we had a bill of about 800 leva. I went to the nearest ATM, and guess what! The 400 leva limit was not per transaction, but per day. Needless to say that was embarrassing, but we had enough money to buy half the shit, and the other half I paid for the next day. The moral - thou shalt not be boastful, or something.
All the while, I was thinking how I was going to surprise the guy I was dating at the time with my new outfits. I knew he liked how I look in black, so one of the shirts was an insanely hot black shirt. However, as it happened, he never wrote or call me the whole break, and I broke up with him shortly after my return to the New Continent. But that's besides the point.
What's really fun and bonkers is that 2 days later, I got sick. Really sick. I proceeded to get sicker the entire frickin' break, and I missed all there was to miss - my HS class reunion, my friends' reunion, nights out with folks I had been planning on for a while. What made it worse is that we don't really happen to be in Varna at the same time anymore - a lot of the people I know, just like me, went somewhere around the world, or are at least always in transit, so it's hard to arrange for all of us to be there at the same time. This vacation was one of those times, so I was, well, fucked (and not even the good way).
But my ailment deserves a special mention - I was sick with tonsilitis. Nothing weird so far, but my tonsils were actually removed when I was 4.5 years old, or so the doctors said. But as it happens, 18 years later, I discovered that yes, I do have tonsils (or fractions thereof) which are sufficient to get me sick. I remember arguing with the doctor who was shining a flashlight at my throat, and then with the second doctor who also gave it a try, and then their astonished looks as both of them concluded that either I was absolutely insane, or they were absolutely blind.
I got better right when I had to leave, so there isn't much more to say really. The one week that I was sick was really awful - I hadn't been so sick in many years. But I couldn't even be sick in private - my mom and grandma, who hadn't see me sick since before I left Bulgaria in 2004, really panicked and made sure they gave me their constant, undivided, forceful yet loving, and helpful yet utterly annoying, attention. But perhaps that only made me get better faster :)
Then I came to the US and ended my love life, and started focusing rather on my work and hobbies. It's been a nice break, and I learned a lot about what I need, want, and can accept. Now that we have mid-year performance reviews at MSFT, things are looking good and I'm looking optimistic about what the new year is going to bring me.
Hasta la vista!
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