LG's Excellent PC Adventure

Many of the volunteers in Bulgaria keep online journals (journals, blogs, xangas, call them what you will) and I make it a practice to read about half a dozen of these on a regular basis. I read two because they're written by friends, one because it's written by an ex-PCV who is certifiably insane, one for the pictures and two others because they are so well written. I like good writing and I particularly enjoy stumbling across good writing in unexpected places. I've never seen any statistics on the subject, but I'd guess that the percentage of online journals that are witty, interesting and well written is a one digit number, a low one digit number. Many journals are simply used by their authors as whine racks and contain little more than an annoying recitation of whatever is making that person unhappy at that moment. Be assured, there is always something making these people unhappy. Life is a conspiracy against them. Given the opportunity, these folks would suck the pleasure out of a Spring day. Their message is dreary, their syntax is awful and their spelling is atrocious. They do, however, make finding the good ones all the more rewarding.

Now, in one of the good ones, I've been tagged. Tagging, it turns out, is the practice of defining a category, then making a personal list of specifics on your own journal and, finally, challenging, commanding, directing or asking a specific person or group of people to create their own lists on their journals. As in, "Tag, you're it!". I had to look it up.

So, Lucia thought about guilty pleasures and came up with seven that she was willing to share online. Now she's tagged me, and some of her friends, to list seven of our own guilty pleasures. Most of you who read this journal know me very well and, therefore, can appreciate my problem. While having an abundance of pleasures, I very rarely have guilt. But, as I've been tagged, I'll give it a shot.

The Peace Corps. I suppose that quitting work and going off to satisfy a dream I've had since I was in college should qualify as a guilty pleasure. I know I've enjoyed this so much it probably should be illegal, fattening or contagious.

Cigars. Since my Uncle Bill threw away my White Owls and gave me a box of Upmanns way back when, I've always loved a good cigar. I smoked them before they were the rage, during and since. I still limit myself to one or two a week, not from a sense of guilt but rather because I seem to enjoy them more when they're rationed.

The OverPaidPrimaDonnas. This is my fantasy baseball team and I spend many many many productive hours managing them. In our league the 'Donnas are known for the quality of their (my) complaining and the fact that they usually come in second. Until I get a real life, this will have to do.

The Sheraton Balkan. Okay, I admit it, I prefer the Sheraton in Sofia to the Hostel Mostel. So shoot me.

The two-hour Bulgarian cup of coffee. Sitting with friends at one of the outdoor cafes in Stara Zagora on a Spring or Summer day and making a cup of coffee last a couple of hours while we watch the parade go by and solve a universal problem or two is another thing I should probably feel guilty about, but I don't.

Weekend nap. I like to lie on my couch, with both my balcony doors propped open, and sleep during the day on a Summer Saturday or Sunday. It is essential that I have a book cracked open on my chest and music playing in the other room. Even though the breeze through the room is the dreaded tuchenie, I sleep like a baby. I guess if the weather outside is especially terrific I could feel a little guilty. I'll think about it next time and let you know.

Evening ice cream. The street vendors are back! Like snowdrops or crocuses the ice cream vendors are beginning to appear on Tsar Simeon after a long Winter. One by one they will open until there are eight or ten of them up and down the street. Raffy's, Gelati, and Mr. Sweet's all peddling ice cream cones by the gram. I make it a habit to walk to the center each evening after dinner and buy a cone or two. So much ice cream, so little time. If I buy a cone at Raffy's and then walk all the way down the street to the bottom, I can pick up another cone at Mr. Sweet's for the long haul back up the street. Hey, it's for the exercise. Walking is good for you.

Well, there you have it. I could go on but now it's your turn. Sara, Alex, Matt and Jessie...Tag.

By the way, I'll be at the PC office on Friday and the Sheraton on Friday night, I'll have a cigar with dinner at Ruini and head back to SZ on Saturday. There I'll set the lineup for the 'Donnas before having coffee with Alex, Matt & Jessie for a couple of hours. I'm hoping for a sunny day for my nap on Sunday so I'll be well rested for the long walk for ice cream after dinner. Life is good.