What the hell is this? I was looking to buy a Colgate t-shirt online and found a whole lot of absurd clothing that features all things Bulgarian. Let’s see: 1) a Bulgarian pride classic thong, 2) Bulgaria is not a coalition shirts, 3) a Ride a Bulgarian t-shirt, 4) a Bulgaria Rocks! infant creeper.

This is crazy! Why would anyone ever wear Bulgarian pride thongs? Please, please explain. I can begin to understand fascination with French girls. I can understand love for southern boys even better. But a classic Bulgarian pride thong??? Beats me.

Today is my cousin’s sixth birthday. To me, this day has a special meaning just because it always reminds me that she was conceived around the time of my final decision to come to college in America. So, it’s been more than six years of questioning this decision, not on a daily basis, but quite constant nonetheless. I don’t regret what I have gained - amazing friends, a lot of knowledge, non-material enrichment on many levels. I do regret what I have lost - life moments from what used to be all my world. But it’s all good, I think it was the right decision.

Tom Cruice is on Bravo now, making absolutely no sense. He tries to be all philosophical about his art and he uses empty words with no meaning behind them. “I don’t invalidate the feelings of me being tired.” Neither do I. Therefore, I am going to make myself a coffee, put my feet up, and finish The Da Vinci Code.

I just woke up, it’s 10.49 pm and I have been sleeping for the past 5 hours. I have lapsed into a total reveral of day and night and it’s not good. Now I gotta do some math. Which reminds me:

THE TOP TEN REASONS TO BECOME A STATISTICIAN

1. Deviation is considered normal.
2. We feel complete and sufficient.
3. We are mean lovers.
4. Statisticians do it discretely and continuously.
5. We are right 95% of the time.
6. We can legally comment on someone’s posterior distribution.
7. We may not be normal but we are transformable.
8. We never have to say we are certain.
9. We are honestly significantly different.
10. No one wants our jobs.

Absolutely the best thing I have heard in a long time. Husky lead voice, touching guitars. What more can you want on a cold evening? Curled on a soft pillow on the floor, I wonder if the 60’s were really as romantically rebellious as they sound in songs like this. Notes: The line about the crossroads is a reference to Robert Johnson, a guitar star who supposedly sold his soul to the devil for the ability to sing the blues; and the neck of Allman’s accoustic guitar is inlaid with mother-of-pearl spelling out “Melissa,” suggesting the song is not about a girl. Interesting.

Melissa by the Allman Brothers (1968)

Crossroads, seem to come and go, yeah.
The gypsy flies from coast to coast

Knowing many, loving none,
Bearing sorrow havin’ fun,
But back home he’ll always run
To sweet Melissa… mmm…

Freight train, each car looks the same, all the same.
And no one knows the Gypsy’s name

No one hears his lonely sighs,
There are no blankets where he lies.
In all his deepest dreams the Gypsy flies
with sweet Melissa… mmm…

Again the morning’s come,
Again he’s on the run,
Sunbeams shining through his hair,
Appearing not to have a care.
Well, pick up your gear and Gypsy roll on, roll on.

Crossroads, will you ever let him go? (Lord, Lord)
Will you hide the dead man’s ghost,
Or will he lie, beneath the clay,
or will his spirit float away?

But I know that he won’t stay without Melissa.

Yes I know that he won’t stay without Melissa.

.
P.S.Oh, and as always there are some omni-scient people , whose comments make me laugh my ass off. My favorite is “I think it’s about a man who killed somebody and is on the run from the law.” Ha-ha!