I warn you now! I am feeling introspective and if you don't want to read there are a lot of pictures....there, you've been warned!
I probably haven't written because it hasn't been easy to actually post anything without a real computer. I probably haven't written because I've reached a part of europe where I could be a little bit more of myself. A place where there are outlets for insanity which haven't quite yet existed. The fun's been too intense to do anything constructive as well...It's taken a refuge in an empty apartment of a friend in another country to be in the right mindset to write and post.
Right now I'm in a friend's apartment in Cluj Napoca, Romania and I've spent the last month or so having a large group of people to have fun with, in a town that provides any type of fun you desire. I've also spent the last three weeks being really tired all the time, coughing and blowing my damn nose. But before the sickness was the pure unadulterated fun...and most of that was performed with a wig.
I've met tons of hungarians, brits, irish, LOTS of dutch people, germans (kiss kiss), Romanians, israelis, italians, french, danish, swedish, finnish, norwegian, and many more. I've shared amazing, humble and also simple experiences with them in all states of being and miss every one of them . And this is the point where I say that I will miss them, but I hope to return one day to Europe and see them all again...but I won't....because I am staying.
Before I left the USA, I told everyone that I may, in fact wish to never return! I have to admit right now that I miss everyone terribly. But to change my ticket would mean I would not have enough money to return if I did come home. I only bought a round trip because it was the same as a one way. So maybe I'll get a ticket and come home for christmas....? But I do miss people at home.
I want to go home to see my mom.
I want to go home to see my dad and Joanne.
I miss dave and erin, and now of course I am uncle dilley, so I would get to see little Colin as well.
I miss portlanders, especially one that's a 'miamier' now.
It seems that I actually feel like I'm about to go home, that this will, should, has to end sometime. It is a vacation after all, isn't it? But it's not. It's a lifestyle that I've always ended up being happiest in. A lifestyle where I don't know tomorrow, but I can define it as what's predicted or I can completely alter it to suit my ridiculousness.
I think what I am saying, and maybe this is too heavy, but I want to marry this lifestyle. I want to be committed. I don't expect to always be a grunt, moving dirt, cleaning toilets, schlepping bikes around, or any such thing forever. I expect that I am a writer or some such nomadic pursuit. Most importantly I seek a life worth writing about. I've always had this in the back of my mind, and maybe I'm expressing it now so that you'll hold me to it. Just like I did when I had to scare myself into getting onstage for standup comedy and I told all 100+ interns at 3M where I worked that I was doing it so that I knew they would hold me to it. It took not 1 but 3 weeks, but finally I did it. And I'm a funnier man because of it!
And now let me exercise a lightning change of subject, just like pamdemonium is famous for performing. I wish to return to recent events...so, here ya go, a real update.
I am in Romania, after being in Budapest for a month. I spent a week at the Sziget festival. Afterwards there was the unofficial after sziget-also one week-festival. I forgot just how ridiculously much I love festivals. I forgot how that that is my element, and I can just be anything, and say anything at any moment. I forgot how a good festival causes us to forget how we really are day to day and unleash everything that we have within us that is good, funny, genuine, ridiculous, hardcore, loving and insane.
But then you return to "normalcy" and I find myself saying 'but...but...why can't it always be like that?' But it isn't. When you go out in the city people ask why in the hell you're wearing a wig. Some of them get it "because its fucking fun and silly you idiots!" But the reaction isn't simply "woohoo!" or "can i take your picture?" or "can i interview you for dutch television?" It's more guarded and filled with trepidation. And that's it; there's no hesitation at a festival. You see someone, something, or have some idea for what something can be and you just go for it. There's no hesitation based on the fear of what would someone think if I did this? You just throw your hands up and scream, or start at mosh pit, or tell someone their smile is insane, or buy a stranger a beer, or hug someone, or make up a song and get 50 people to sing it with you (BEER IN THE SKYYYY WITH DILLLEEYYY!!! BUM BUM BA BUM!)....life is goddamn good at a festival! But why in the hell does it ever go back to "normal?" Don't we all feel this way all the time? I guess there has to be balance, but imagine if we all felt this way all the time...what would a festival be like then?!!!
So...post festival ways to break up the normal drudgery:
A few swedish and some dutch, an australian and myself hit up aquaworld in budapest. I surfed a standing wave, we rode waterslides, did jumps, got yelled at by lifeguards and parents, prayed to the wave gods, spun bubbles filled with kids and one of us ended up with a chicken leg for a middle finger, but that's another story. Did I mention I fucking love the water!
And then it seemed that I met many people from Romania and I was so close that I just had to come visit before I went back to Italy and then on to the Berliners!!
After debating my visa situation my friend knew some border control people and asked them about my situation and assuaged my concerns for re-entry from an EU country (Romania) back into the Schengen countries. So I decided last minute to head off to Romania and I am here now and have really enjoyed myself. Romanians are nice. Things are cheaper here. A beer is about a euro. A jameson shot with a beerback...about 1.5 euro. I partied it up in Cluj, then rested for most of the next day and saw an amazing place, the Salt Mines of a town called "Turda."
The next day we rested a lot and then my friends took me to the cliffs at the lake/drinking water resevoir near here. We got some good shots of me cliff jumping as one of them has a giant camera. After a few glasses of wine both lakeside and in town we retired for an early start.
Tuesday and Wednesday we drove over 1000 km and saw a romanian stonehenge sort of place. We camped in a farmers field...which you couldn't really do in the US...Americans would shoot you with buckshot or get really angry. We then saw an amazing road that was first mentioned as "Ceacescu's Road" in a Top Gear episode. So I did it...I got to go to a place from top gear and drive it!! Next we headed for Dracula's Castle...actually Vlad the Impaler. A man who, depending on whom you asked was either a man of Romania and for the people or a vicious psychopath killing and maiming at will and was friend to no man!
I spent almost all day yesterday resting...finally a day almost entirely devoid of activities where I could rest...after three weeks. Damn I feel old. One really has to work a lot harder to keep up with 18-25 year olds!!
I feel a lot better today, and I will go out and see some of cluj...if it doesn't rain on me. Tonight I will get my mop of beard and hair trimmed and then this weekend we will go north to see traditional romanian peoples. (I.e. headscarves, carts, donkeys, and hay).
So...if you're still reading and have any employment or writing tasks/questions/answers for me, I'd be glad to hear them...
love you all and miss you all! here's a few more pics...otherwise the bulk are on facebook...
part of dracula's castle...from the inner courtyard
part of smargetisusa (sp?) the Romanian Stonehendge
The escalators out of the metro in Budapest....really steep and really long and they have these fans that look like jet engines.
Street art in Cluj Napoca...I saw it while peeing on a wall.
I think this was two nights after Sziget....
Hungary independence celebration...THREE sets of fireworks and that meant THREE GRAND FINALES!!
converse boobs
the first people I met at the festival...and like 90% of Szigeters, yes, they were dutch.
Flo on the Electric chair
Jeremiah with wig
FLOOGGGGGINNGG MOLLLLLYYYYY!!!!
My friend Pip...she wins for most colorful outfit!
The one night all the budapest crew FINALLY actually met up and hung out for the night!
The blonde wig has a special effect over whomever wears it
like I said...a special power comes over you!
Kickflip...he's dutch...he skates...He catches fire in the sun, therefore he must hydrate.
Beer in the sky with dilley...and a bunch of Italians.
...and an australian...
"The lad" as some called him....heavy bromance with this one
Kim showing off a Trabant, which she tells me means orbit...they're the funniest and cutest little communist cars. Kim I'll see you soon!
my "Kids"...as in "Come on kids! Let's get a picture! and Pip don't you make a funny face!...awww Pip!!"
GOOOGOOOOLLL BORDELLOOOO!!...although honestly I had no energy left for the mosh pit at this point...but I did anyways...
Alex wrote on the Roma Tent, that apparently this guy looks like me...someone else wrote E.T. and pointed to a lady on the gypsy tent nearby. When I took a picture of it these dutch guys asked me who I was. I told them this was my family, and the hill behind it was our land...etc etc...I had them going for about 15 minutes with pure made up silliness...
On the boat back from sziget this french guy just started reading the program out loud for everyone and making silly noises. I liked him, he's a fellow lunatic.
The Irish and the British will always get along. Especially if there's only one of each and they get to pose in a huge red cadillac convertible during a hungarian rockabilly concert.
The one night all the budapest crew FINALLY actually met up and hung out for the night!
Kim showing off a Trabant, which she tells me means orbit...they're the funniest and cutest little communist cars. Kim I'll see you soon!
GOOOGOOOOLLL BORDELLOOOO!!...although honestly I had no energy left for the mosh pit at this point...but I did anyways...
Alex wrote on the Roma Tent, that apparently this guy looks like me...someone else wrote E.T. and pointed to a lady on the gypsy tent nearby. When I took a picture of it these dutch guys asked me who I was. I told them this was my family, and the hill behind it was our land...etc etc...I had them going for about 15 minutes with pure made up silliness...
On the boat back from sziget this french guy just started reading the program out loud for everyone and making silly noises. I liked him, he's a fellow lunatic.
The Irish and the British will always get along. Especially if there's only one of each and they get to pose in a huge red cadillac convertible during a hungarian rockabilly concert.
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