Oh My Goodness.

I figured a blog post would be the only way to put a cap on this most glorious of Bulgarian evenings. Tonight, was Steve night. If I don't love myself, than who will.

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Upon returning home (the Park Central Hotel), I drew myself a hot bubble bath... yes, bubble bath. Whilst basking in the glory that is a warm bath, I removed the prickers from my legs and arms, scrubbed the grit and grime away, tended to my feet then polished off a chapter of the book I'm currently reading. Once clean, I adorned my finest t-shirt and pair of jeans, threw on my timbos and headed down to all my friends at the hotel bar (Collin & Walshy, the staff easily rivals the crew out in the Sac). Upon receiving and distributing the usual series of "Ciaos", I was much obliged to adhere to my sophisticated palets request for a Beefeater gin and tonic. Dining upon meals fit for kings, my colleague Joseph (Brosef) and I sat around and bickered over such proper dinner conversations as who was more sore and what the worst jobs we'd ever been on were. When the clock struck 6, I limped my sorry ass downstairs, where my masseuse awaited. A $25 (with good tip), hour long, full-body massage ensued... It was as if it were a gift from God. Once complete, I slipped back into my fine garments and floated back up to my room where I sit now, drinking a bottle of Bulgarian wine, and typing to you good people... Why can't life always be this easy?

Now back to reality (That really was my afternoon though)

I wish I had gotten a massage earlier in the trip instead of waiting until the final few days to get one... what on Earth was I thinking? Obviously I wasn't.

What's messed up is that the masseuse said I had the tightest back muscles she's had to massage in a long time... and when she went to massage my feet and I apologized for their state of being, she said that they reminded her of feet "Like a soldiers." Yesssss... I cannot wait to get back to the states, slip my feet into some comfy shoes and march my soldier foot having behind down to a store to pick up some new work boots.

Today while driving to the site with Brosef, we discussed whether or not I was homophobic for worrying about getting a masseur instead of a masseuse. I think we both agreed that it's not about being afraid of getting rubbed down by a dude and the whole gay aspect and all, but simply that we prefer, and feel more comfortable with the touch of a woman, instead of a man. What's your take? The whole thing reminds me of the Seinfeld episode where George and Jerry get massages. George ends up getting one from a guy and is all weirded out by the situation... the best quote has to be when he admits that "I think it moved."

George: He was... touching and rubbing.

Jerry: That's a massage.

George: And then I took my pants off.

Jerry: You took your pants off?

George: For my hamstring.

Jerry: Oh.

George: He got about two inches from... there.

Jerry: Really?

George: I think it moved.

Jerry: Moved?

George: It may have moved, I don't know.

Jerry: I'm sure it didn't move.

George: It moved! It was imperceptible but I felt it.

Jerry: Maybe it just wanted to change positions? You know, shift to the other side.

George: No, no. It wasn't a shift, I've shifted, this was a move.

Jerry: Okay, so what if it moved?

George: That's the sign! The test; if a man makes it move.

Jerry: That's not the test. Contact is the test, if it moves as a result of contact.

George: You think it's contact? It has to be touched?

Jerry: That's what a gym teacher once told me.

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Great stuff.

So, as expected Brosef ordered chicken for his first meal in Sliven. Here's proof.

He asked that I "Please don't tell Collin" about the incident, and since I'm such a good pal, I said I wouldn't. However, if Collin so happens to come across this while reading the blog, than I surely can't be held accountable. Brosef also bought two Snickers the very next morning. Obviously this information only pertains to those of you in the geophysics group... for those others who aren't, you're probably wondering what the heck I'm talking about.

The weather of late has been great, minus today.

Little outdoor cafe action right by the hotel.

FYI, I dropped off Mike at the Sofia airport on Sunday and picked up Brosef... exchanging worn goods for new ones. Not sure if I've blogged since then.

While at the airport I almost got a ticket for parking in the wrong drop-off area, fortunately I was let off the hook. Then on the way home I got pulled over for speeding. They made me get out of the car and walk to theirs where they checked my rental papers, passport and MD license... they then proceeded to laugh when they saw I was American and tell me to go on. ??? I then got pulled over the next day and the same thing happened. ??? I think they just assume that I won't pay the tickets anyway or something of that nature and opt not to ticket me. The thing is, I really wasn't speeding all that bad... at least compared to what the maniacs do here. I can't even explain the driving rules, they're nuts. I saw a car pass another car that was passing a car on a two lane road. And there wasn't even a long break in oncoming traffic. There appears to be a mystical third lane that exists. It really is an amazing thing. I wish my words could do it justice.

I'm running out of steam here. This has been a long blog, I don't know how long I can keep this up.

Think I'll be returning to the states on Tuesday. Give ourselves plenty of time to finish up and then another day off to do some exploring. I mean, when else am I going to be in Bulgaria?

Sorry for not putting up many pictures... I'll be sure to take more over the next few days.

Ciao,

Steve