It has recently been brought to my attention (thanks mikey) that my grammer has been less than perfect, my prepositions a disaster, my punctuation hard to believe, and lets not even get into the spelling mistakes. I quote, "You don't even know to from too." I now open and close the light, I go at school not to it, and I make a lot of things rather than do them. I have a lot of memories from when I was in University. I am rather keen on peanut butter. And sometimes I borrow a friend a book or two in English. I no longer speech native English but some new beautiful unique PCV morph. ROMANGLISH! (Mike lets hear you after six months)
I spent the weekend in Zalau. I think of Zalau as the twilight zone of Romania. It a very small town and yet everything cool in the universe convirges on its one long street. There are the "Ce faci" boys. They are twin brothers whom dress up like the FBI or cowboys or just wear silly hats and wander up and down the bulevarde screaming out "Ce faci?" or "What's up?" to the townspeople and the townsdogs. There are the newly constructed '"runway" lighting strips that now glare down that same singular avenue illuminating the way for any straggling plane that happens to lose its way to the Cluj airport. And there is the groundbreaking breakdancing group that volunteer JR has spawned. JR self appointed American record promoter and Romanian pop star shmoozer has turned Zalau into a music mecca. He even organized a group of PCVs to come and play at an "American Night." This past friday. I got a personalized invitiation from the club owner Marius. We danced the YMCA together and are now friends. He made us all placards at our very own private table. He spelled my name with a 'Y' but was appologetic. His club is unique here in ROmania, there was no pole. At ten o'clock Brian and Ryan (two proud members of Group 15, my group) took the stage by storm. More drunk than in tune they wailed out Radio Head, some smashing Pumpkins and at my request a little Simon and Garfunkel (I couldn't help myself there) The crowd was less than thrilled but lightened up when my friend Ciprian (he helped plan camp with me this summer) did an interpretive dance. Anna and I split a bottle of wine. It was sweet though it said dry. All in all the night was a sucess. We lost Brian at one point when in a drunken stupor he found himself in a field of hay. Ah, Zalau.
The next day Anna and I talked philosopy in the cemetary. We enjoyed the fall. It is cold here. The snow has started in the north part of the country but us southerners are praying for an Indian Summer. I heard that it is 80 in LA? Is life fair I ask you?