Alaskan Bulgarian

The Bulgarian Crib-ouse and the Iz-ouse and All That

So yeah, wassup, welcome to my crib. I’m gonna’ take ya’all up in heah, show ya what happens in the casa de Rob. We gonna’ have a good time, yo. And now I’ll stop the lingo since I'm bad at it and I get the idea it might get a bit old after a paragraph or two.

Anyway, here we have the entryway. On the left is my coat and towel rack. I call it that because it’s where, you know, I keep my coat and towels. My shoes also hang out around there and I keep some emergency stuff in the drawers under the rack. There’s also a mirror right next to the door. It’s pretty handy for those last minute check-ups. At the end of the hall is the closet:

I’ve got some small mattresses in there, a communist era vacuum cleaner, and a broken radiator. Nothing really too useful, but that’s what a closet is for, I suppose. Let’s just move on and take a right into the living room.

This is where all the magic happens. We have a Greek flag on the wall from the trip to Athens and Crete, and next to that is a map of Silistra and a little painting Kate gave me Christmas. In terms of furniture, we have four chairs, two ottomans, and the couch under the flag and map. The couch folds out into a bed that I hear is kinda’ sorta’ comfortable.

Here’s a better view. On the right is an incredibly old radio that would probably work if I put some effort into fixing it. For now it just sits there and acts as a nice end table. You can also see my UCLA slippers, the two ottomans, and a copy of John Kennedy Toole’s The Neon Bible, which I’ll talk about tomorrow. The lamp on the radio/end table is the only working light fixture in the room at the moment, but it does a remarkable and cheap job of keeping the room lit at night. The glass doors you see on the right open up on the terrace and reveal a view of Simeon Veliki Boulevard down below.

Opposite the couch, I have my big bookshelf.

This is where the books stay until I’ve read them and given them to the school. On the left are Simpsons and Dilbert desk calendars my Grandma sent me for Christmas. And below all that is the tiny chessboard, again from Greece, the Santa hat from the Christmas trip to the orphanage, and my rotary phone that now only receives calls since the line is pretty much useless for anything else.

And moving past all that, this is where the magic happens, as they say. My bedroom. Complete with bed, bedside table, and closets:

Not much to see here, really. There are a couple of GRE books next to the bed for some light bedtime reading. You can see the closet has my usual supply of t-shirts, button-down shirts, and Lakers shorts. Coming out of the bedroom, we see the famous Carnaval ’99 poster left by one of the Spanish guys who leaved here before my stay. It’s just a promotional thing, but it has stayed because I really don’t have that much of a problem with it.

If we go back into the entryway, we see the ultra-secure two-lock door:

Moving beyond that, we have the room where the magic happens, baby!

The all-tiled bathroom, the toilet’s in the back, the sink’s on the right, and the showerhead is behind the door. All the heated water in the apartment comes from the little canister you see in the back of the room. But that’s a Bulgarian bathroom for you. The kitchen’s next-door, come on, follow me.

This is where “the magic,” you know, happens. We have the washer and sink, both attached to the bathroom’s hot water supply, and the distiller that keeps me clear of kidney stones, bacterial diseases, and all the other goodies the medical staff warned us against. That door on the right leads to a view of the Danube River:

And the obligatory fridge shot. Not a whole lot of food, but we have some ham, cheese, eggs, milk, chicken, and some leftover chicken and rice in the pot at the bottom. Everything a growing man needs.

And that’s it. That’s my place. Thanks for coming, but now you got to go! Go on, get out. Go!

Just kidding, you can stick around if you want. It’s just that they always finish every Cribs segment with one of those pissy rants, and I thought I’d try it too. Yeah, anyway, that’s my place, Bulgaria-style. Hope you enjoyed the tour. Later folks.

Posted by Rob at February 29, 2004 02:29 PM