Episode 12: Timer

My darling friends.

Oh, I belong to Timer.

He changed my face. You're a fine one Timer. You've got me walking through the gates of space. I keep remembering indoors that I used to walk through. Baby, I'm not trying to talk you down. But I could walk through them doors onto a pleasure ground. It was sweet and funny. A pleasure ground.

— Laura Nyro, 1968

Don't worry mom, I haven't joined the army, I'm not a soldier. But I play one on TV. You see, I finally got the part of a soldier instead of a camera boy by landing another role in an upcoming movie. This time in the sequel to the 2002 version of the H.G. Wells classic, The Time Machine. This one is called The Time Machine: Morlocks. It won't be a theatrical release, but rather a Sci-Fi Channel (SyFy) special/straight to DVD release.

My experience on this film was totally different from the last one. For starters, my scene was shot inside of a studio, so I had no trailer, but I was issued my very own room. Since I had speaking lines, I also got to experience my first script reading. For the folks who don't know, a script reading is when the entire cast gathers in a room and read aloud their parts from the actual script. Okay, okay, I know — pretty self-explanatory, but Sarah had to inform me of this. I had no idea that actors did this before filming a movie. It was really fascinating and strange reading your lines aloud in a round table format with everyone listening. And If it wasn't my second film experience, I would have been terrified to do this. Instead, when they got to my part, I just whizzed right through it like a pro.

And speaking of the cast, I guess I should mention that the film features some pretty big named actors from sci-fi domain, including David Hewlett (Stargate SG-1), who was a very funny and friendly gentleman, veteran actor Robert Picardo (Star Trek: Voyager, Deep Space Nine), Ray Fearon (Harry Potter), Jim Fyfe (Dark Shadows — I worship this show!), and Christina Cole (Casino Royale, Doctor Who), who, on our initial point of meeting, I stupidly uttered the dreadful phrase one should never say to an actor upon meeting them on a set — "have we met some where before?" My friend Bunks would have wanted to be a fly on the wall for this moment. You see, at the time of meeting her, I didn't realize she was an English actor who'd appeared in a dozen or so well-known films. So when my photographic memory kicked in, I just assumed that I'd met her somewhere in real life, not on television so to speak. Yeah, real dumb. She just looked at me with a funny smirk and said rather politely, "Um...I don't think so." After the script reading, later that night I recalled the story to Sarah and we Google stalked her on IMDB, and instantly recognized her from our all time favorite Sci-fi series, Doctor Who, that I just so happen to bring along to Europe. Anyway, this script reading went on for hours. As we read along, the Director of the film, Englishman Matt Codd, would interject every now and again, asking us our opinion on keeping or deleting any awkward or funny lines in the script.

Another big difference from my last film, is that I landed a rather tiny role this time with about 4 speaking lines. I play a scared soldier, and literally that's the name of my character. He, of course, gets eaten up at the end of the movie by a huge Morlock. And like Sarah said, I might be becoming type casted like a scream queen, but in my case, a scream king. Oh, and believe it or not, I was originally considered for the role of one of the main characters. The director liked me for the part but when he sent my tape to the New York office, they thought it would be best to go with a bigger name. Damn! Would have been cool to play the main character. Nevertheless, Sarah reminded me that winning the tiny role was something to be proud of. Just hope it doesn't get cut. Ha! Me and a couple of my fellow actors with tiny roles in this film were chatting it up at the wrap party and cringing at the possibility of having our parts cut from the film. That kind of stuff apparently happens often in the business and you have no control of it. So keep your fingers crossed for me.

Having been casted in such a tiny role brings to mind another big difference between both films. This time I got only one day of shooting. And my scene didn't involve any of the big actors to act with. So this unfortunately eliminated the cast camaraderie I experienced with ReKill. It felt really strange after having so many days on ReKill and just one day on Morlocks, but it was still a day to remember. You see, originally the casting director told me that although I'd be playing the part of a soldier, there would be no need for me to cut my hair. And that on the day of shooting, they'd just slick it down with a lot of thick hair grease to hide it under the helmet. This was relieving because I'd only got a tiny role and didn't think it was worth cutting my hair for it. Ha! Look at me getting all prima donna-esque after starring in just one film. Had this been my first, I would have cut my hair with no questions ask.

Anyway, when I got to the set all made up like a Real American Hero, Jimmy "Jimbo" Oxford, the assistant director, took one look at my long hippie hair and said, "cut that hair or go home, kid!" I just looked at him in shock as he continued to mutter, "or show me that you can hide it all under one of them military helmets. You want to be a star? Well, it's show time. So make a decision fast." He walked off leaving me speechless as the make-up people escorted me up to the make-up department with my head hung low. These girls were pretty awesome, though. As I sat in the cutting chair helplessly staring at the barber blades aiming for my 'fro, they told me not to feel bad and that even the bigger named actors moan and groan about getting their hair cut to play a part. So I guess they must be used to sympathizing with the actors because they did the best they could without cutting it all off. They basically gave me a real close shave and cut the sides and back of my hair in an upward like motion making me look like a Kid n' Play reject. And no, I will not post pictures of my new doo, so forget it!

After the girls butchered my hair, one of them did the best she could by stuffing the rest inside of my helmet. She gave me the thumbs up and sent me on my way. I was really nervous going back to the set having to face Jimbo again. I just took a deep breath and timidly walked up to him and said, "I'm ready, now." He looked at me with a surprised expression, and said, "wow, you got it to work! Awesome, let's do this!" At the shoot, Jimbo and I got along just great. He was really wonderful to work with. Which brings to mind another big difference in shooting this film as opposed to the first one. In ReKill, it was really easy to act frightened with 200 hundred authentic looking Zombies coming at me. The Morlocks in this film will get the CGI treatment after the filming is wrapped, so there were no authentic looking Morlocks running around the set. This made it extremely difficult to act like a scared soldier. Jimbo, realized this tiny dilemma and right before the camera started to roll, took me to the side and said, "Owen, act as though you are caught in the deep south surrounded by a 100 Klansmen holding a white girl's hand." His advice must have really done the trick, because we got through my scene in only 4 takes.

The extras playing armed soldiers were pretty awesome, too. At the end of my shoot, I realized that I unfortunately broke my machine gun and they joked around with me about paying for it. Then out of nowhere the entire set erupted in cheers and applauds. It freaked me out at first, but then I remembered seeing the cast for ReKill do this after an actor had wrapped their final scene. I unfortunately never got applauded on ReKill, because no one knew my actual last day of shooting.

Okay, regardless of the fact that I only shot one day, and a tiny role, I still enjoyed myself and learned more about the movie making process. And oh yeah, I almost forget — even though it was just one scene I shot, when the director shouted out "action!," I still whispered to myself, "Owen, you are actually making f**king movie," again.

Speaking of time machines, if I had one, I'd do 2009 all over again. It was indeed a phenomenal year that I'll always remember. It was the year that I witnessed The United States of America swear in its first African-American President. It was the year that I let old habits die hard and let bygones, be bygones. It was the year that I got brave and strong stepping out into the unknown. It was the year that The Beatles had finally remastered their catalog.

But like anything in life, there were a few disappointments in 2009. Like when I spent a couple of months extremely ill or when I was moping about because I never got called to substitute at the American School. Oh, and that one time when I almost got my ass chewed off by a pack of stray dogs is up there pretty high. Oh and I can't forget just a few minutes ago when I slipped and fell on the icy snow covered pavement in the cross walk while tons of onlookers stared and laughed at me! That was quite embarrassing. But on a serious note, nothing would be more disappointing than losing The Greatest Entertainer Of All Time. And even though I was devastated and saddened beyond belief when the entertainment world lost The King of Pop, I still found a way to smile inside when I stopped to think about just how much that dude had accomplished in his 40 years of being in the spotlight. He set the bar pretty high. So If you're reading my Blog-O-Daria, MJ — here's a quote from me to you that I'm stealing directly from your old friend Madonna regarding your passing: "I can't stop crying. I'll be crying for a long, long time."

The year 2009 would have never been the same had I not met Sarah, though. And excuse me if I get all mushy for a minute, but the advice and support she gave me in my decision making process in 2009 is immeasurable. And one of my biggest worries in making my decision to move abroad was living with a woman again. I had not done that in 15 years. Talk about horror movies...I was terrified! So besides me calling her a lazy whore every now and then for not cleaning the bathroom or her smacking me up-side my head for walking around in my drawers while having company over, living together with Sarah has been just wonderful.

Okay, since I'll be traveling back to the States for the Holidays and New Year, this will most likely be my last Blog-O-Daria for a good while. I might even retire it. Who knows? But let me say from the bottom of my heart — THANK YOU all for tuning in each week and leaving me wonderful comments that truly warmed my heart. And I must leave you with one of the warmest comments of them from my good friend Sieaun telling me, "Owen, missing your Blog-O-Daria is like missing my favorite TV show Desperate Housewives." Imagine that, my little ol' Blog-O-Daria being compared to Desperate Housewives. It just don't get any cooler than that.

Happy New Year.

Be seeing you.

O

Episode 11: Happy Holidays To You

Lots of happy

little children

waiting for sunrise.

A stocking full of candy

and big surprise.

Look at the happiness

in their eyes.

They're glad it's Christmas.

— Mark Woods Jr., 1979

Happy holidays to you all. And despite the economic crisis in the States, I do hope that you are feeling happy and in good spirits this holiday season. For me, it's been a really difficult time finding The Christmas Spirit this year, living abroad and away from family and friends. It was also tough getting into Thanksgiving this year. But of course, folks here don't celebrate Thanksgiving so that was understandable. As for Christmas, they just don't do it up like they do in States. Sarah tells me that the lack of Christmas spirit in Sophia may date back to the days of communism. But on the other hand, It could also be contrast. The States can over-commercialize the holidays and I could just be used to everything being overwhelming with decorations and such. Nevertheless, the spirit for both holidays hit Sarah and I last minute. Let me tell you how it happened and recap some missed moments from November and December of my life and times in Bulgaria...

First off, there was Thanksgiving in Sophia. And although my good friend Joe stepped up to the plate to save the Day for us good ol' Americans, it still felt kind of weird when I woke up Thanksgiving morning. Coincidentally, I received a happy Thanksgiving wish from my Hyattsville homeboy Mike McCarthy asking me how the day felt. I guess he was curious because he had also experienced life over seas during the Thanksgiving holiday when he lived abroad in England. He told me that for him it felt like a regular old day. And he couldn't be more accurate. There was no anticipation for my Mama's cooking. No traditional Thanksgiving Day morning Hills That Kill run with my brothers. No Dallas Cowboy football game to look forward to. Damn! The world felt like it had come to an end. Nevertheless, I moped on over to Joe's place around 2 to help him prepared for what turned out to be a pretty awesome Thanksgiving Day celebration in Sophia, regardless of those absences.

Sarah met up with us around 6. And at 7 pm sharp, our friends, Stetso, Kami, Alex, Dani, Ellie, Addy, Jonas and his wife Ryna all showed up for the occasion. And my man Joe threw down, indeed. It wasn't like my Mama's of course, but it was pretty damn scrumptious.

Oh, and when I say I helped Joe, I just mean I handed him some seasons, cut potatoes and did the dishes as he single-handedly prepared everything from a traditional Thanksgiving Day turkey with stuffing and cranberry sauce, that he had been saving in his fridge for a year, as cranberries are tough to come by in Sophia, to a special macaroni and cheese dish from his very own late grandmother's recipe. And it was truly the bomb! I could tell it was also a big hit for everyone else — because as I glanced around the room, folks were licking their lips and pleading for seconds. Since I was Joe's assistance during the making of his secret mac and cheese dish, I did sneak a peak or two at how he done it. But there's no way I'd be able to repeat it. I'll just stick with my usual Kraft Macaroni & Cheese in a box. I'm pretty good at that, so don't challenge me, you will lose! Anyway, needless to say, Thanksgiving in Sophia turned out pretty well. Joe even gave me first choice to the leftovers.

Now on to Christmas in Sophia. That's been, surprisingly, the toughest for both Sarah and I to get into this year. I tried playing my new Three Degrees Christmas album that I got in Prague, Sarah got us stockings and a Christmas wreath for the door — but sadly, none of it got us into The Christmas Spirit. Then last Sunday it all happened for us. We rented our little black Volvo from Rotto Rental Car for the weekend to take a trip to Blagoevgrad to visit Sarah's host parents Alexander and Slaveika and their daughter Vanya and her son Slavi for the holidays. They graciously prepared a wonderful Christmas lunch with homemade wine. The Christmas Spirit was creeping its way near me. But that still didn't quite do it. On the way back, Sarah suggested we stop by Bansko, a ski resort near Blagoevgrad. It had the most wonderful little town center you could imagine. Covered in snow and decorated with Christmas trees all around, it reminded me of a scene from my Mom's all time favorite holiday film, It's A Wonderful Life!

We froze our butts off while romantically walking through the winter wonderland like scene with me bitching and whining the whole time. That's when Sarah suggested we go inside one of the little pubs and sit by the fireplace. We found a nice one and just sat and chatted about our childhood days, chillin' and enjoying the vibe. The Christmas Spirit was knocking on our door at this point. After the pub, we headed back home, feeling a sense that The Christmas Spirit was in the air. We could almost taste it, so I popped in that Three Degrees Christmas CD to see if it would sound anay better. It sounded good to our ears this time. The next morning we both just knew what would really get The Christmas Spirit going for us. That one thing that always does. A Christmas tree. It would have to do it. So we skipped breakfast and headed out for the market. Just as we got out of our front door, something unexpected happened. Snow drops started to fall. We looked at each other and smiled like one of those claymation characters from that Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer holiday special. We only had a little time to do this so we didn't savior the moment too long, we jumped in the car and speed off to the market.

When we got to the Christmas tree lot, I was a little surprised or taken back. You see, as the familiar holiday anthem, "Linus And Lucy," by the late great Vince Guaraldi, began to play inside my head, I looked around and noticed that all the trees looked like the scrawny little tree on A Charlie Brown Christmas. We just laughed about it and chose the biggest one of them all to compensate. The guys at the shop wrapped it up tight and drilled on a tree-stand, charged us 30 lev and then we were off. As I walked around the market with the tree, my celebrity status reached an all time level of highness. It was even higher than when I run! Folks just stared and even came up to me and politely asked, "where and how much the tree cost?" It was really interesting. Because in the States, if folks saw us walking around town with this Charlie Brown-looking tree, they'd laugh at us! But here in Sophia, our little ol' Charlie Brown tree was the cities latest attraction.

We finally got out of the market and onlookers and rushed to the store for decorations. We got home and unwrapped the tree and slapped the decorations on. making our Charlie Brown tree look gorgeous. We just sat around for a minute, giggling and looking at it like were little kids at Christmas. At night it was even more impressive. The Christmas tree did it. We finally found The Christmas Spirit.

The mood is right, the spirit's up,

We're here tonight and that's enough.

Simply having a wonderful Christmas time.

— Paul McCartney, 1979

That same evening, I'd promised Sarah that I'd attend a Christmas celebration at the British Embassy in Sophia where Sarah and others read scriptures from The Bible and sang Christmas carols. Yeah, I know, Mom...you would have been proud to see me in this kind of religious setting. I guess (clears throat) The Christmas Spirit came over me much harder than I expected. Besides, I did promised Sarah I'd go and I'm glad I did, because it was a lot of fun and cemented The Christmas Spirit inside of me.

Oh and before I forget, I had another week alone in Sophia. Sarah went to my home away from home, the lovely New York City, on business. Picture that, me in Bulgaria, and Sarah in the USA. Something's a little odd about that picture, right? Who would've thunk it? And I was jealous, too. But to sooth my jealousies, Sarah brought us back a ton of goodies from New York. I mean she literally filled up an empty suitcase with stuff! One of the items that she brought back instantly erupted my Happy Dance — an assortment of candy treats that you can't get in Sophia, like Reese's Peanut Butter Cups, Hershey bars and York Peppermint Patties, that I was surprised she found those in the States. I thought Patties disappeared with the 80s? Anyway, careful when you see me over the hoildays, I just might have a huge pimple or two with me waiting to say hello. She also shopped for cloths and gifts for others. But there was one item that she'd brought back from NY that I'd been waiting years to get. The Kraftwerk remasters! And if you don't know, you'd better ask somebody, because like the Beatles Remasters that came out in August, it was a crime that both groups waited so long to remaster their catalogs. Because just like the Beatles and other extremely important musicians such as Sly & The family Stone, Led Zeppelin, Aretha Franklin, The Jimi Hendrix Experience, Bob Dylan, Motown, etc. — Kraftwerk are in the same league in terms of their utmost importance and astounding influence on the music world and culture. They are considered the godfathers of modern music. So thank Kraftwerk for the over-use of computer generated crappy music you hear on the radio today!

Speaking of music, I can't end this story without telling you about the musical acts I've recently seen in Sophia. It seems that Sophia has been getting some good ones to perform this year, too. To add to the already superb list of artists who already came, such as, Madonna, Macy Gray and ZZ Top — Boney M. and Simple Minds are now added to the list. And next year the great Elton John, will grace the undiscovered gem of a country. A group of us are currently trying to hunt down some possible VIP tickets to The Captain's show, but it's been difficult trying to find them.

Okay, now on to a review of the concerts, and unfortunately, there's always one or two duds in a fireworks' box on the 4th of July, because Boney M. — the ABBA of Germany — sucked harder than a kid with an ice cream pop! It's a good thing I braved this one out alone while Sarah was in New York, because I would have been embarrassed had she or anyone else been with me. First off, they came on stage with a boombox and no band. Bad sign. Then I realized it was only Maize Williams up there. The other three were replacements. End of discussion. If they had advertised it that way I would have never purchased a ticket. Nevertheless, the energetic Bulgarian audience seem to have enjoyed it regardless of how I felt. I guess I am just a bit of a stickler for an original. Anyway, if you're reading my Blog-O-Daria, Miss Maize — please get the old band back together and do it up like '77. I'd even pay again to see a reunion.

You turn me on,

you lift me up

And like the

sweetest cup

I'd share with you

You lift me up,

don't you ever stop

I'm here with you

— Simple Minds, 1985

Anyway, Simple Minds — one of Scotland's greatest band of all time underneath Average White Band and right before Belle & Sebastian — made up for the awful Boney M. concert. Those dudes were smokin' hot! They trumped Madonna, Macy Gray, and — I hate to say it — they even trumped ZZ's spectacular kick ass concert in October! Me, Sarah, and Joe danced the night away as the spectacular Jim Kerr led his band to an awesome 3 hour performance of hits, B-sides and album classics, such as, "Glittering Prize," my favorite that I kept annoyingly yelling out until they finally did it, the very memorable "Don't You (Forget About Me)," and a heart warming encore of "Alive and Kicking". The original classic '84 line up was present, with the unfortunate exception of the female background singer. But they had a look-alike replacement that did the job well. Charlie Burchill and drummer Mel Gaynor still had the chops. And Kerr's voice was stronger than ever. I was quite impressed. And although Sarah and Joe were only familiar with the unforgettable "Don't You (forget About Me)", they seemed to have really enjoyed themselves, leaving me with no worries.

Will you recognize me?

Call my name or walk on by?

Rain keeps falling

Down, down, down, down.

— Keith Forsey & Steve Schiff, 1984

Okay, as I mentioned before, I'll be coming home for the holidays this year. I'm excited. But I have to admit, I'm a bit nervous, too. I'm a little afraid I might go into shock over what I've gotten used to living abroad. I do hope I'll get the chance to get together with you all. You know, hang out, catch up on both ends. Although, if you've been keeping up with my Blog-O-Daria, you'll pretty much know most of what's been going on with me. But I can still give you a bit more details and stuff. Anyway, what I'm really getting at is — if you do happen to see me, and I'm a bit out of sorts or disheveled looking — you know, acting in a different manner that you're not used to, please be patient. I mean, I don't think living abroad has changed me, but one can never tell. But if this does occur, just remember this — I'm still the same ol' Owen. I just need to get a little readjusted.

Be seeing you.

O

Episode 10: Runnin' Away

Runnin' away
to get away.
Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!
You're wearing out

your shoes.

Look at you fooling you.

— Sly Stone, 1971

About two months ago I finally got up enough courage to go for a run in Sophia. And just like my new expat life, It's been a strange but delightful experience. Oh, I guess you are wondering why I said got up enough courage? Well stick around and you'll find out...

As most of you already know running is a huge part of my life just like painting, music and breathing. Well, breathing is kinda secondary. I paint a picture, I breath. I listen to music, I breath. I go for a run, I breath. So one can imagine how a 4 month layoff must have felt. Very depressing. So my first day back on the trails was relieving to say the least even if I only went about 4 miles and needed to call an ambulance afterwards. I felt Like I was in my "Fat Elvis Period" of life, as John Lennon humorously described his lay off from the music scene in 1975. But I kept at it, and eventually got back on the right track.

But before I got on that right track, I spent a lot of time wondering and worrying whether not my celebrity status would hinder my ability to run. Like I told you in Week 2, the constant looks become quite annoying when you need a little privacy. And I figured if tons of Bulgarian folks stare at me when I'm simply walking down the street, they'd sell tickets to see me run. I was almost right. They didn't actually sell tickets, but they stared even harder with an occasional smile here and there. I even tried wearing a hat and shades to take a little attention off of me, but folks still stare at me like they're seeing Usain Bolt run for silver. I guess I really can't blame them. A tiny percent run in Sophia, so it's pretty unusual to see a person running to begin with. I've seen about two people on the trails so far and gave them both a big smile and thumbs up. Real high. Nevertheless, I should be used to the looks, because I got a lot of them in the States, too. Not many African Americans run in the Takoma park area. And in the States people tend to make a habit of eyeballing runners to death in general. I do it, too.

On a positive note, I found that the constant stares help build the stamina I need to reach that extra mile or two. Especially stares from the opposite sex. And excuse me if I diverge from the subject for a minute, but this is probably a safe point for me to describe the physical appearance of a typical Bulgarian woman to my fellow "Girl Watchers" out there in Blog-O-Daria Land. Two words. Simply stunning. And dressed to impress 24/7. If you're into that sort of thing. But seriously, these woman are truly some of the most breathtaking woman I've ever seen in my life...with Sarah being the cherry on top of them all of course (clears throat).

Anyway, the constant looks ain't the only reason why I needed to build up some courage to run in Sophia. It's the fear of stray dogs everywhere. My Bulgarian friend Nevena told me that they give them some kind of identify tag that sort of makes them an integral part of the community. And believe it or not, and this is not a joke, on several occasions Nevena and I both witnessed a stray dog or two waiting at an intersection. When the walk light turned green, the dog would actually walk across to the other side and continued on its merry way. When Bunks came to visit he also took note of there citizen-like status. We once had to dodge a stray dog's bustling path on a busy side walk as if he were uttering, "get the hell out of my way you stupid Americans."

The stray dog problem worried me for a while, but then I noticed that most of them are pretty friendly and mind their own business. They're just hungry and trying to survive like most people, right? My friend Joe told me to just bring along some bread to feed them on my run. So learning this, I finally got up the courage to run until I heard about an American female runner who had gotten mauled by a pack of stray dogs in the park one night. Scary stuff. This new news set me back another few weeks. It also scratched my idea of running at night to prevent so many people from staring at me.

I tried to find some pepper spray to protect myself, but never came across any. I even thought about bringing a big stick along. Then I thought of the Bulgarian peoples reaction to the only Black man in Sophia running down the street with a big stick in his hand. Yeah. That wouldn't go over too well. So I was back at square one. Then one faithful morning I got up early, grabbed my iPod, and told Sarah, "what the hell am I waiting for? It's a free world. I'm going for a run!" She just smiled a sigh of relief and said, "You bet."

I even tackled that same park that the poor American girl was mauled in. Yeah, that was stupid. Because as I got up to the deep end of the park, a pack of greedy-looking dogs came out of nowhere and starting chasing me. I'd already mapped out a couple good tall statues in the park where a terrified runner, that's me, could climb up on top of just in case of a dog chase emergency — so I headed straight for the nearest one. Just as I gained up enough speed to get there I turned back to see how close they were and noticed that a man came out and called them off. They must have been his dogs, but I didn't stick around to find out. I just headed straight for the exit as fast as I could.

As I left the park with a huge sigh of relief, I realized that in a way, I am kind of a celebrity in the eyes of the stray dogs in Sophia, too. I guess for them, when they see me running, it must seem strange. When you think about it, they never see people running, so they must be thinking one of the three things:

1. It's playtime!
2. A crazy Black man is running towards me. He makes me feel nervous, so I am going to bite him before he bites me!
3. He's running to a place where there is food, so I'm going to follow him!

I'm betting on 3, but no matter what the choice is, it's extremely scary to see these wild ferocious animals charging for me, so I decided it would be best to just avoid the parks from now on. That way, if any of them start to chase me on the streets, there's a likely chance for someone to call for help.

Another day.

You're farther away.
Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!

A longer trip back home.

For a minute, I thought this running on the streets had solved all my problems, then I came to the realization that I'd been face with some new dilemmas. For one, it becomes difficult to find any trees or bushes around to duck into just in case I need to go to the bathroom, or drain an entertainer as I like to call it. Now I know how it must feel to be a female runner. You just have to deal with it and develop a strong bladder. Another dilemma to face is the cars. It's hard enough to avoid the crazy DC drivers when running in the States, but facing a crazy Bulgarian driver is an another ball game. They drive faster than a New Yorker, and the pedestrians don't have the right away. Let me repeat — The pedestrians do NOT have the right away. So don't even think about trying to play chicken with a driver in Sophia. You won't win.

I know I've mentioned a lot of negatives that I've experienced in my two months of running in Sophia. But on a positive note, it's been truly a delightful and memorable experience that I will never forget. It also forced me to learn my way around town and discover new parts of the city on my own. And it's a beautiful city indeed. Although, in recent runs, I've learned that sadly, they have butchered the poor trees to death around most of the city. I guess they are pruning them for diseases? It's kind of a strange way of pruning I think. And sadly, it takes a long time before they grow back. And Sarah and I noticed a couple of after-pruning trees around town and they just look like a spider spent a web around a pruned tree. So basically, the beautiful streets surrounding our condo, looks like the after effects of a war zone, now. Our main street where we live has been untouched fortunately. Not sure why they left ours alone, but Sarah and I are both thankful for this.

Oh before I go, I guess I should let my fellow Hills You Can Feel For Real running team back home know that there are no big hills to tackle in Sophia. I'd have to leave town and head out to the Rila mountains to get a good hill into my workout. You see years ago, two of my older blood brothers, Thad (Brubby) and Carlos, constructed a 10 mile course in the very hilly Takoma Park area that contains 12 steep hills, including one that is almost the size of a mountain that we save for the end of the course. We've lovingly named it Big Bertha. This year, Brub must have gotten board and decided to remix the course by adding on 5 more hills and two extra miles as if we didn't already have enough. Before I left for Europe, honorary member David Hillis came along and ran it a couple of times and accurately christened the new course Hills That Kill. When I was home, me and my brothers kept a strict diet of running this course every two weeks. It kept me on my toes. After running it, you just felt kind of invincible-like — making smaller courses feel like you'd just ran a block or two. And man, It feels like centuries since my last appearance on that crazy course. So here's a message to my fellow Hills That Kill team members — please be gentle with me when I make my come back on Hills. Remember, I'm your little brother.

Be Seeing you.

O