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Trip to Bulgaria 2009

Today is a gloomy day and it feels like autumn. Although technically there are 2 more weeks of summer till the autumnal equinox, September 22, 2009, I look at summer 2009 in retrospect. I enjoyed an incredible summer this year with my trip to Bulgaria, at the end of August, being the highlight.

Madonna was in concert on August 29, 2009 in Sofia and my best friend, DJ Paul De Pascale, got invited to spin the Madonna after party at club ID in Sofia. This was a great opportunity that we took advantage of and turned it in to a remarkable vacation. Thanks to Zakki we enjoyed a fantastic accommodation and travel.

This was my first time traveling with friends to Bulgaria. Paul, Raul and I flew Czech Air; NY-Prague-Sofia. The service was fine but we had a long layover in Prague, we had 6 hours at the airport. Neither of us was able to sleep on the Cross-Atlantic flight but we chatted and the time passed by. Despite the excitement though on the 4th hour at the Prague airport we had run out of stories and energy, for the time being, and felt the long wait. Paul came up with a game (My initial is …) which helped us pass a boring hour.

We arrived in Sofia on Friday, August 21, 2009 and had an awesome dinner at my family’s house. My mom and aunt had cooked and cooked for what seemed like an army.

Saturday we went to the gym and lunched at “Pod Lipite” restaurant. After lunch we had a tour in downtown Sofia, which we finished with coffee and cocktails at a nice garden bar. That night we went to check out the club, ID, in which Paul was going to spin next Saturday.

Sunday morning we took off for the Black Sea coast, headed to Ravda. The Balkan mountain majestically lies in the middle of Bulgaria perfectly oriented east to west thus splitting the country south and north. There are 2 main seaports on the Black Sea coast in Bulgaria – Varna in the north and Burgas in the south. Ravda is between the 2 but closer to Burgas.

Zakki’s original idea was to be in a hotel that is close to the beach so that we didn’t have to drive to the beach. This is why he had booked rooms at a splendid, little hotel which’s deck was above the beach. The view was stunning. There was the hotel, a pool in front of it, then the deck for the restaurant, and the beach.

Upon our arrival on Sunday afternoon we took a stroll down the beach and despite Zakki’s original idea, somehow, decided to drive to Sozopol for the beach next day. I think this is how the traveling obsession took over us. That night we had dinner in the ancient town of Nesebar, where we laughed so hard that our faces hurt. For dessert we had ice cream and I decided that we have to find the right kind next day – Raffy.

Monday, we went to the astounding beach “Smokinia” (Fig) in Sozopol where Paul and I had our first ‘official’ photo shoot. After the beach we hit the gym and then dinner. Another fantastic restaurant and another night full of laughter. Here we found Raffy and everybody had ice cream like there is no tomorrow. In this trip we also saw the city of Burgas.

Tuesday, we sacrificed the beach and took a drive to Balchick, which is almost at the very northern part of the Bulgarian sea coast. There we had lunch and proceeded to see the Balchik Palace and its botanical gardens. On our way back we visited Varna and had dinner at a great restaurant on the beach. My favorite part was us walking up Main Street in Varna, eating Raffy ice cream, and all of a sudden we hear a street singer performing Zakki’s song.

Wednesday, we checked out from the wonderful hotel and went to Chernomoretz to enjoy a day on a beach of cliffs instead of send. After the beach we left for Zakki’s villa in the middle of the Balkan. On the way we stopped by to pick up groceries which we turned into the most delicious dinner that night.

Thursday, we spent most of the day in Kupen, where Zakki’s villa is and Thursday night we arrived back in Sofia.

Friday, we all met early in the morning for yet another exciting adventure – the Seven Rila lakes and the Rila Monastery. The best part was that my mom was able to join us for this journey. The entire time we’ve been riding in 2 amazing cars generously provided by Zakki – a 2008 Jaguar (Jaguar baby, Da) and a Mitsubishi SUV.

Saturday, was a big day. I had breakfast with my family and met Zakki at the gym. After the gym Paul, Mary and I went to the club so that Paul can do a sound check. Then we pretty much rushed back home to change and went to see Madonna. We had very little time to go back, change and grab Paul’s CD’s before he had to start at the club but made it on time. It was an utterly amazing night of fun!

This appears to be a very brief chronology of our marvelous trip in my homeland. I’ve been back for 2 weeks now but I’m still reliving a lot of the moments spent with my family and friends.

4 Books, 10 Episodes, a Musical, a Movie and 1 Trip.

I ought to have mentioned that besides eating some delicious stuff this past weekend it was a culturally infused weekend as well. I finished reading a short story, listened to 2 recorded books, I went to the theater, to the movies and watched an entire season of a TV show.

I finished reading “Diary of a Mad Man” by Nikolai Gogol; it’s a part of a collection of short stories but I don’t think I’ll finish the rest. Gogol was a genius and it’s said that the rest of the colossuses of Russian literature came from under his “Overcoat.” However, it takes a special frame of mind to enjoy his works. One needs to entirely disconnect from the present and step into the world of the sarcastic and surreal.

On my way to the Cape I finished listening to “Death on the Nile” by Agatha Christie and started “Death in Venice” by Thomas Mann which I finished on my way back to NY and started “The Renaissance: a short history” by Paul Johnson. I found it an interesting coincident that both books’ titles start with death and how different they are.

Death on the Nile, allegedly the author’s favorite, was very engaging and unfortunately intuition made me guess who the murderer was in almost the very beginning. Death in Venice, by contrast, was a bit over my head. With a special and exclusive introduction written and read by Michael Cunningham, this book automatically appeared as a highly regarded work of art. Although translated from German, the narrative flows very passionately and creates vivid images. It’s is a very dramatic story. I would say that as much as I enjoyed listening to it, it’s a book to be read as well.

* * * * * * *

I got to Joan’s house on Friday, around 8:00pm, and we started watching the first season of “True Blood.” We were immediately hooked. I got up at 8:00am on Saturday and went for an oil change at the dealership and after that to the Cape Cod Nutrition Corner. Regretfully, the service at the dealership and the prices at the nutrition store weren’t as good as I remembered them. I made a solid breakfast upon my return and we continued watching True blood.

Saturday evening we hit Dunkin Donuts for Iced coffee and drove to Boston to see Rent, the musical. I had seen the movie a couple of years ago but wasn’t prepared for the awesomeness of the play. When Tom Collins sang after Angel’s death I was bawling my eyes out. We drove straight home after the play and watch the remaining 2 episodes of True Blood.

Sunday was Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince day; the official reason for my visit to Hyannis this time. I, of course, enjoyed the movie; I’m a fan after all. We got up had coffee and met up with Kate for breakfast. After the movies we hung out for a short while but nowhere near enough, Kate!

Do It Yourself If You Can

How do you replace the headlight bulb on a 2002 Hyundai Accent; driver’s side?

What kind of bulb do you need for 2002 Hyundai Accent? Answer: 9003 (HB2)

Hyundai recommends that the timing belt be replaced around 60,000 miles. Alternatively, you are running the risk it’ll snap and the engine will jam and become useless. I’ve been aware of that for about 20,000 miles or 2 years. Moving to NY didn’t help having the money to do it. I was finally able to spare the money (~ $600) and bring my car to the dealership.

You know how with age we develop these peculiar habits and customs – I for instance, always buy my underwear from the Filene’s Basement and in Hyannis and service my car at the Hyundai dealership close by it. The dealership changed owners a few times in the past 5 years but kept the same mechanics and great service, at an awesome price. They gave me an incredibly low quote for the timing belt and the service belts, even much lower than 2 years ago. I also did an oil change. I absolutely recommend them.

Unfortunately, a couple of days later I found out that the driver’s side headlight was out. The driver’s side is an important detail. Knowing that even if I’m able to safely commute for a few days in this condition, the black and white cruisers wont thinks so, and will kindly remind me by handing me a ticket, I started asking around where I can by a bulb.

It was easier on the Cape where everything was in Hyannis. I thought that I might be able to find one at Walmart, and after confirming with a colleague I went to the one in White Plains.

Funnily, I asked a guy-employee who advised me that there is no way to find out what type of bulb I needed in the store and sent me back to my car to consult with the driver’s manual. This proved unsuccessful because the manual doesn’t state this info. Not believing that I can’t find this info at the store, I went back. Sure enough, a nice looking lady-employee was able to guide me to a “bulb guide” where I found the needed info.

Now pleased that that I have the bulb I popped the hood open right at the Walmart parking lot but discovered that the battery is positioned about an inch from the headlights back and all the driver’s manual said was to remove the cable and the rubber gasket to replace the bulb. It was dark; I couldn’t see anything so I postponed it for another time.

I finally got to this yesterday in my lunch break. I tried reading some instructions online but they were all from dilettantes like me and with no pictures so I decided to just do it.
For all intents and purposes, it’s a very simple process – unclip the cable, take the rubber cover off, release the wire clip, and remove the bulb.

The problem is that there is no room to pull the cable off. Once I squeezed the latches to unclip the cable, the back of my hand would hit the battery! I tried this over and over and over, and then some till my fingers hurt and I got green in the face. I felt like the monkey in the experiment with the box with candy. The monkey would be smart enough to squeeze its hand trough the small opening in the box, grab the treats but its fist wouldn’t go back out through the opening so it will drop the candy and start over.

I knew it could be done without removing the battery because the driver’s manual would have suggested to do so if otherwise. I also didn’t have right wrench to do it. After discovering that my sore fingers wont do the job I employed a screw driver, on one side, and my car key, on the other, to press the latches. This didn’t prove much easier and after 10 minutes I was ready to give up and on my last try the cable simply unclipped. The rest was easy. I removed the rubber cover by simply pulling it by the little handle at the bottom, unhooked the clip by pushing outwards and down and removed the bad bulb. I had borrowed a pair of clear gloves from the cafeteria so that I don’t touch the halogen bulb with my bare fingers. The gloves also came handy to keep my hands clean.

Thanksgiving

The week of Thanksgiving I was able to combine another memorable Thanksgiving experience with some mandatory car maintenance. I got to Hyannis late Wednesday and stopped by the bank to take some cash out and say hello to whomever had remained employed by Citizens bank. After a quick stop at Filene’s Basement I was at Joan’s house for dinner. We watch almost an entire season worth of BBC show “Prime Evil.”

I’ve been celebrating Thanksgiving with Joan for 5 years now. She had introduced me to it as “the most dysfunctional holiday in America.” She explained that is the most traveled for holiday. People usually cook like crazy, families gathered, pretended like all is well, till all stress and tension blows up to a huge fight.
I tend to agree with this so that it’s usually just 2 of us cooking, eating, and watching TV all day; when I say all day this means from 8:00am till about 1:00am next day!

This year we introduced a couple of novelties to our already tradition. An official slogan and a new, otherwise traditional TG, dish:

“What is Thanksgiving all about? – Gluttony and Sloth!”

And Green Been Casserole.

Thanksgiving Day opened festively with an elaborate breakfast – Eggs Milendict and a bottle of champagne worth of Mimosas. We had the turkey in the oven by noon. As soon as we did this Dennis & Chris and Steve & Ed showed up for a quick visit and some more mimosas. Then more TV watching, side dishes were prepared at 5:00pm and Thanksgiving dinner was served at 6:00pm.

When the Almighty is Looking After You, III

I get up on Saturday (04/28/07), after a restless night of sleep. I have a plan in mind. I make breakfast for me and Joan; we eat and discuss how things are going to be when I get to NY, we are all so full of hope and positive thoughts. The conversation revolves around the excitement of the city, finding your places such as coffee shop, the little convenient store around the corner, and how at some point people will start recognizing you and greet you.

Joan drives me to pick up the van. We get to Stephanie’s house where we face the usual commotion of a 4-kids household, a miniature dog, a couple of cats, and a permanent friend visiting. Fun memories flood my mind; I remember all the fun moments we’ve shred – hanging out at the house, playing poker, singing karaoke, the trampoline, going to the near by pond…

My cargo-van-fears are confirmed, the van doesn’t look spacious enough; it has bolted tool- racks and- boxes inside. Cliff and I dismount the right-hand side rack and that gives me a bit more room, I drive away hoping that I’ll be able to fit some of the boxes in to these tight shelves.

In my mind I had planned that Dave, Didi’s husband, will give me a hand with the mattress and couple of bigger pieces of furniture; I also want to take off around noon. Didi tells me Dave is working and will be able to help me after 2:00pm. I think for a moment. Since it is the most concerning piece I take the bed apart and hauler the mattress to the van. It fits by a quarter of an inch. I then take the box spring, after taking the mattress out of the van, it fits, literary by a hair, so does everything else. I unscrew the fronts of the shelves so that the banana boxes just barely squeeze in. As I’m at the peak of my struggle, Joan shows up, back from her nail appointment, and despite her freshly-did nails she jumps in to help me with everything. We work as a well oiled machine and everything is loaded in an hour or two. We are both amazed and I utterly grateful of how everything fits in the van and Joan’s support.

We eat a rewarding lunch at a seafood place for farewell and I take off at 3:30pm.

I have the essentials for the drive – water, ice coffee, iPod and a banana (note, no Cigarettes). I think about something Joan told me, I think about a motivational song – a song you’d listen to before going to an interview or anything that requires a lift of spirit – a song that would make you feel courageous. Joan had told me that she always listens to “Defying Gravity” from “Wicked,” I try to embrace it and make it my courage song, but I realize that, subconsciously, I’m actually listening to my own. The iPod had shuffled and I currently listen to an Avenue song, “Jelanie“, that translates something like that:

I used to say “I want,” but I knew, I couldn’t want rain when it had turned into snow.
I used to say “I’m going,” but I knew, I couldn’t go on a rode which leads backwards.
I used to say “I see,” but I knew, I couldn’t see in the dark, without light.
I used to say “I believe,” but I knew, I couldn’t believe in things that are clearly lies.

And I know now that even by myself…
I must want,
I must go by myself,
I must see,
I must believe even by myself.

(Needless to say, it sounds a lot better and it makes a lot more sense when you listen to the actual song, especially in Bulgarian :). And people that know it would most likely understand my excitement. )

Without looking aback I drive and arrive in Mount Vernon in about 4 hours. Meglena and Ross help me unload the van. Everything is taken off it in an hour. By 9:30pm I’m moved in.

When the Almighty is Looking After You, II

Friday was the day for packing.
I have about 10 ‘Chiquita Bananas’ boxes, some tape and a lot of determination. Chris helps me put most everything in the boxes – we start with the kitchen, move to the leaving room, then the bathroom, and finish with the bedroom where most of my stuff is. Chris goes on with his own day and I continue, methodically, sort and place objects and cloths in boxes. I’m short by a box or two, it’s just past noon. I take a short break to go to the supermarket to pickup some more boxes. On the way back, I stop by the regional manager’s office to pickup a letter of recommendation. Brian’s admin is very nice; she leaves a lasting warm impression, a mixture of high professionalism and motherly consoling.

Back at the house I finish boxing my belongings and store all of the boxes in the kitchen; the pile of boxes looks alarmingly large, I doubt whether it it’ll fit in the cargo van. It is 4:30pm and the project is completed. To delude myself that everything is in its natural state I go to the gym, as in any other day when I’m done with the day’s tasks. Being at the gym is enjoyable and soothing.

The week has been happening with a nauseating velocity and I had initially rejected the idea of a farewell dinner party, but the more I thing about it, the more I realize that I’ll regret not having one. While at the super market Kate tells me she made reservations for 7:30pm at ‘Sam Diego.’ I look at her and realize how much I’m going to miss her.

Sometime during the day I call Dennis, I’ve waited since Monday without calling him because he couldn’t deal making plans. He tells me he has lost his wallet and respectively his driver’s license. I, some how, don’t freak out and hope he’ll find it by the end of the day.

The three enchiladas I ordered arrive greasy and cheesy, just as I’d imagined them. I take a big, sweet and sour, slightly salty, gulp of margarita and admire my friends – here, to celebrate with me – Joan, Kate, Sue, DD, Stephanie and Cliff. Their faces make me feel warm, safe and at home like. At this exact moment my phone rings – it’s Dennis – he sounds somber and delivers the news that he hasn’t found his license, it is 9:30pm. This time the bad news hits me with full force, I feel almost queasy; the warm feeling from my friends is replaced by a heat wave that pushes through my body and externally manifests as tiny droplets of sweat on my forehead. I run the different contingency plans in my head not realizing I’m doing it out loud. Joan knows about the situation and tells me not to worry because she’ll drive with me. I really appreciate her offer but cannot take it, it is too much. At this point the focus of the conversation has shifted to my problem. Everybody is saying something, my head is spinning, and I cannot hear anything – “when do you have to be there? What time are you leaving? Can’t you hook your car on the back the truck? In the next moment, Cliff and Stephanie come up with a solution.

“Did you say a cargo van?” Cliff asks.
“Yep.”
“I have one in my drive way,” he continues.
“Oh, yeah! It’s just sitting there, taking space in our driveway,” Stephanie jumps in with her distinct raspy voice, which I utterly adore.
“I thought you needed a truck,” Cliff adds, “If you can fit your stuff in a van, then you can use ours.”
“Oh yeah, Definitely! You should cancel your reservation.” Stephanie concludes.

Everybody is up in arms, chanting “Cancel the reservation, cancel the reservation!” and I’m trying to process what has just happened. I hear but I cannot comprehend. My mind is stubbornly holding onto my plan. My friends’ idea, slowly but surely, percolates through my brain and I start see the solid rational behind it. I’m still blown away by fate thinking, “What are the bloody odds that Dennis will bail on me the night before departure, and in the very same night a friend, whom I haven’t seen in month, Cliff, will have and offer me a cargo van, which I can keep for 3 weeks?!?” As soon as we get back to the house Joan assists me to call and cancel my truck reservation.

When the Almighty is Looking After You. (to be continued)

My relocation to NY was, in many ways, like quitting smoking. I knew I wanted to do it for the longest time, I was afraid of it, and it seemed distant and surreal. I was saying to myself, “I’ll do it sometime in the beginning of next year; I’ll worry about it when the time comes.”First I had to finish school, and after that I decided to complete my internship on the Cape. And then one day I had to face it and set a date, just like when I quit smoking.

After deliberate coordinating with Meglena we picked the last Sunday of April. When I shared my plans with Dennis, couple of weeks prior, he exclaimed that he’d love to be part of it and help me drive to NY. I had planed accordingly to rent a truck, move my positions to NY, drive back with it to MA, pick my car up and drive back. After persuading me how it would be fun, helpful and how he needs to get away for a weekend Dennis convinced me to change my preparation and plan for take off on Saturday, the 28th.

I had a week to prepare, wrap things up in Hyannis and move. Monday was a nightmare, first day unemployed and supposedly starting the whole process. The first struggle was with renting a truck. After 2 hours of research, checking online and calling U-haul, Budget and Enterprise I was able to reserve a cargo van for Saturday.

Skipping most of the events and activities – it is Thursday – I’m at the car dealership, sitting in the waiting area, drafting a thank-you note, waiting for an oil change. My phone vibrates and loudly screams “PICK UP THE PHOOONE, PICK UP THE PHOOONE MILEEEEN!” I look at the caller ID and vaguely register a 212- number; “probably another placement agency,” I think. I pick up and answer, “This is Milen Speaking.” My mind is still deeply buried in the thank-you note draft. The person introduces himself, tells me where he is calling from and asks if I have a moment to speak. I can’t get out of the trance. As I try to focus on the conversation I ask him to hold on so that I can step out of the building, so embarrassingly quiet in the first sunny day of the Cape Cod spring. I stand outside now, processing the information thrown at me over the phone; I realize that that is not a phone call from a placement agency but from the HR department of the ‘Madison Square Garden’ in NYC. I listen attentively, after I’ve given consent, to the recruiter’s clearly enunciated job description reading. Every word rings distinctly in my head, I know the meaning of the words but everything happens too fast, I can’t snap out of the thank-you note trance, still. I can hear my self explain that the position is not exactly what I look for but I’d still consider it. The recruiter retorts, “Well isn’t a staff accountant position what you are looking for?!?” He insists the position is a perfect opportunity for someone like me to start with, and then tells me he wants to see me for an interview on Monday April 30, 2007. I hesitate and mumble something bold like “I’m moving to the area on Saturday… I should be able to come on Monday.”
“You should?” the recruiter says in dismay.
“I’ll be there at 11:00am on Monday!” I say without skipping a beat.
I walk inside in a new trance; I’m floored, I’ll be moving on Saturday and I have an interview on Monday. The Hyundai chick tells me something and I can’t hear her, she repeats “your car is ready.” I feel full of hope; I pay her and go on with my day.

Bulgarian Laughter Fest

I’ve found out that writing a month after the events is difficult and unexciting. But in the same time how could I not write anything about my trip to Bulgaria? I got very luck with the flight, despite the prior Alitalia entry, if I had flown BA I would have been stuck in London for a day or two and that would have ruined my holiday!

Twenty fife days. One would thing it must have felt like a lifetime. No, it went by unfairly fast. You know how when you go on vacation and you have a mega busy and eventful schedule, one day may feel as long as three. When you cram in a lot of activities in one day you start to question whether a certain activity was done yesterday or this morning. Well I didn’t have this feeling this time. I had secretly sworn to myself to REST. After three years of running around 7 days a week, the last thing I wanted to do on my long vacation was to “do things,” or to follow a strict disciplined plan. Even my work outs were lethargic; I’d go with Zakki 2-3 times a week at the luxurious Majorca fitness club and lift at a 60% effort.

If I have to describe a day of my life, it would be something like this:
11am or noon – waking up. My mom would make breakfast everyday; she cooked all my favorite stuff from childhood. We’d have breakfast, drink coffee and talk. I’d then watch TV and generally bum-around. If it was a fitness day (Monday, Wednesday, or Friday), I’d make plans to leave on time and to take the shuttle to the gym around 4 or 5pm but I’d succeed, each time, to be late and would take a taxi. We’d be slow-moving at the gym; I usually never spend more than an hour at the gym but with Zakki we were never there for less than two hours. After the gym we would usually congregate the gang and would do dinner and a movie.

Unfortunately my brother and Kettie had to work but we were able to get together for the evening events. I was looking forward to going to some fancy clubs in Sofia but for good or bad we primarily visited one and the same bar called Exit. Didi had told me that people smoke a lot in BG and that it was almost unbearable to sit in a bar, about which I thought “Oh, DD! When did you become American and when did you forget!” Well, let me tell ya, I had to go out of the bar to breath at leas 5 times a night – IT WAS INSANE. Consequently, I named the bar “the Gas Chamber.”

If I didn’t to the gym I usually met with Mary for coffee, or a light bite. I didn’t see as many people as I meant to; I only met with Irena and Any. But even those meetings felt unnaturally short and pressed. I’m indeed very upset that I didn’t put in more effort to spend more time with them.

This was the gray depiction of my visit. The fun one could be seen and to an extent experienced through the pictures in the photo gallery. It took 8 separate categories to fit the pictures. A day before I left I told my coworkers that I can’t wait to get to Bulgaria and that it’s going to be Laughter Fest. Laughter Fest it was. We laughed so much everywhere we went and all the time. Here the title pictures of the album:

Lost and Found

Have you thought about the fact that we tend to loose a lot of things when little; things such as keys, favorite miniature toy, money, wallet, a precious (in your mind) stone etc. And then past certain age we sort of stop losing things. I didn’t remember losing anything in ages. It had been so long, that I had grown unfamiliar with the burning sensation of “what the heck could I’ve possibly done with it? Damn it! I must have lost it. But when and where?”

I had to go to Boston last Friday and since I was driving during the day I reached for the Ray Bans I bought couple of month ago. I thing I already shared how it took me about 3 or 4 years to finally buy a pair of expensive shades so it was rather disturbing when I didn’t find them at the “glasses spot” on top of the stereo. I was running late. Sweating I looked around my room then searched my car with no result but negative. The 2 hour drive to Boston gave me plenty of time to try and recall the last time I used them. Although I’m conscious of face creases I don’t ware sunglasses all that much so I calculated that the last time I had them on was over 4^th of July weekend. A long time ago! Despite my determination that I remember placing them in the “glasses spot,” on top of the stereo, right after returning from P-town they weren’t there and I didn’t recall using them after that. I hadn’t gone anywhere after the big weekend. Dennis said he hadn’t seen them at his house. I mourned over the weekend and pretty much told everybody I talked to about how I have lost my expensive glasses.

Strangely, the shades were the second thing I’ve lost this week. Couple of days prior to that I returned home from a long day at school, short by a favorite coffee mug. I thought about asking for it because I had most likely lost it at the cafeteria but failed to do so. I was too wrapped in my busyness.

To top it all off, I had lost my favorite calculator last week. I have certain objects that I’m determine to graduate with and this calculator was one of them. I know it’s corny but I would like to say one day: “see this calculator, this pan, pencil, and rubber eraser? They put me through my college! I’ve taken every class with them.”

Losing the calculator caused an alarm. In a weird way, I cared more for the simple, ivory colored calculator than for the glasses. I didn’t ask for the coffee mug but I went and asked if people had turned in a small white calculator; I asked in the science building, I asked at the library, I asked at the “lost and found” for the college. No one had turned in my little calculator but someone kind had turned my coffee mug in.  I was happy to get the mug back and it dawned on me that I had my glasses at Sue’s party. Granted, that was the only event I had gone to since 4^th of July and it was a beach party but I just didn’t put 2 and 2 together. Sue did indeed have my glasses. Thus I had the mug and the glasses, so you can imagine how ecstatic I was when I found my little Casio calculator stuck behind the hard cover on my Bachelor’s-degree binder, which holds the aforementioned precious school supplies.   

Computer ER