Early morning thoughts in Otopeni Airport

Sitting here in the corner of the only 24 hour coffee internet hot-spot in this airport waiting for my flight to Seattle at 6:50 am I have ample time to just write and keep myself from falling asleep. The time is 1:02 am and dreamy futuristic wale music is radiating from ceiling speakers producing a sense of euphoria all around, except around the night shift waitress who’s quick jagged movements and deep frown lines almost seem intentionally set on defying the music’s blissful effects, achieving something comical and sad at the same time. People are everywhere folded up and contorted into whatever position will allow for sleep on black chairs with arm rests. Old men sleep sitting up with their Căciulă, fir hats, over their eyes. The women build a nest out of baggage and seem very comfortable. Outside it is a bone sawing -20C, which I just converted to a -4 F. There is lots of snow on the ground though it all happened while I was in Germany. The bus ride from my little town to this airport took longer then a flight to Dortmond and a car ride to Mainz. Its not the snow but pot holes the size of small ships that create the long rides, that and picking up every yokel on the side of the street with a thumb out. I can’t read while in a car or a bus, I get headachy, so I didn’t read. But I still got a headache because this particular bus driver was also transporting Christmas trees to Bucharest, filling up the last three rows with trees that I am allergic to. The headache was also brought on by the endless supply of horrible English music the chauffeur hand picked to play. This one song called ‘I want your love, I want your revenge’ sounded like the lady bit her tongue while drunk and decided to sing about two completely incompatible emotions in a quasi-Lady GaGa style pop rhythm. It was just as bad as the only food I could find along the way, i.e a can of peanuts and an overpriced pickle and cheese sandwich. Usually on your way toward Bucharest you will find people on the curb with glass cups or cheeses in hand but now everyone had scrawny White Spruce trees and when they got together it almost looked like we were getting attacked by a small forest as we dodged pot holes and on coming cars. I hate traveling with anything more than what I can carry on my back. I like the feeling of having everything I own and depend on being as mobile and unburdening as possible. I am not used to traveling with luggage and then having to drag it through the snow with a rope, because the telescoping metal handle ripped off long ago, it felt like I was dragging a dead body around behind me. People kept stopping in mid walk to stare. Taxi’s charge a comical amount of money to deliver you to the airport so I needed to find a regular bus. The regular bus turned into a two-hour odyssey including a trolley ride in the wrong direction and a shuttle that finally dropped me off about a mile from the airport. In Germany it began to snow on the day we were about to head to Marias grandfathers house and once it hit it seemed that everyone just plum forgot how to drive or what the differences were between red and greed or road and sidewalk, it was a free for all. Same thing in Romania, except that in Germany the big busses pulled to the side of the road anticipating trouble where as here my shuttle pulled into oncoming traffic in order to pass a bus that was parked in the middle of the street. Shoveled sidewalks are silly things to expect and my trek to the airport from where the shuttle had left me was like a battle of will over mounds of snow as I pulled my roped luggage behind me. Finally arrived with 10 more hours to kill. Visited the international flights section filled with panicky faces whining and flapping their lips, lots of flights were delayed and some canceled. I hope my flight does its job and I don’t spend Christmas in this silly airport with a stomachache and no money. Apparently Richard Nixon came to this airport in the 60’s to do some business with Romanias brutal dictator Ceausescu and a new VIP lounge was created for him, which I am sure I won’t get to see. The coffee machine also won’t accept bills. Well I got an hour before I get to check in so I hope that everyone has a great holiday and that I to get the chance to catch up. Let me know if you’re in town. La multi ani!

Catalin living with Internet Part 2

What if your roommate was the personification of the Internet? What if English was your second language? Watch the first three scenes of Catalin living with Internet. Redone in Final Cut for higher resolution and some color correction, just two more scenes to go!

Corn and Vodka for Thanksgiving and a run around Abrud

This year instead of having Thanksgiving thrusted upon me by my students in one big surprise dinner I planned my leave in advance and left for a small village where other Peace Corps volunteers would be congregating for a good ol' fashioned Thanksgiving. There is something special that comes about when you come together with other people from your country who get all your jokes and can follow your Simpson references. Just being with other Americans was a great experience for once and I plan on repeating these experiences on a more regular basis. Unfortunately most of the footage I got turned out to be much too inappropriate to upload but lots of wholesome drinking games and unorthodox methods of cooking, grilling as it tuned out, the 45 pound turkey were put into place.

I now have Final Cut Pro 7, the best and most powerful video editing software to date (in my opinion) so I will say good bye to my old editing software with this last little Vlog called 'A Winters Run', the last time I will be using imove.



And as a test of what I have been learning with FinalCut I give you my latest Vlog which really explains nothing and is more confusing than clarifying, it really is just a quick test and with a better camera and an actual green screen instead of a pink bed sheet to key out frames the possibilities are endless.



I went shopping just the other day so don't worry Mom.