I've finally connected to the Matrix

My cell phone number has been removed after readers expressed concern over security. If you want to get my cell number, you'll have to e-mail me (prodigaldown@hotmail.com) in order to do so. So sorry.

I gave the number to my friend Ryan, who noticed that I have the exact same cell phone number as a mutual friend of ours but cancelled it a year ago. The odds of that are pretty crazy, eh?

I'm on Verizon, so I've got free nights and weekends. However, since I'll be in LA, 9:00 there is midnight Eastern time, so if you don't have Verizon or stay up late, weekends are probably your best bet. I also don't have free text messaging or anything cool like that, so don't even try. Still, the phone was free.

I don't know if everyone else feels a deep-seated need to explain the intricacies of their cell phone service, but it's not a bad system. The ball's in someone else's court. They can call me.

Orphans? No Orphans?

This is a collection of the more "artistic" pictures I have from Romania. "Artistic" is in quotes because "artistic" may also mean "bad but endearing photography." I've always felt photography is somewhat comparable to much of modern art: if you can't be good, be memorable. I'm going to stop this tirade quickly, though, because I actually didn't take any of these pictures myself, and some of them were taken by my dear mum, to whom I owe a great deal of money as a result of a forementioned ticket fiasco. So, it's best to stay on her good side.

It's fair to note that this is my favorite page of pictures. I'm very drawn to these shots, and I don't know why.

Dia.

Geta.

Gabi looking happy. Emil looking very happy. Daria looking dazed. I love this picture.

Pamela looking very lovely and not evil at all, which is not the truth. The workers several times presented me with Pamela as a gift, saying "take her to America with you. Please." We were both disappointed that I didn't take her.

And on take forty, Sanda finally looking photogenic.

Budapest on a blurry night. Or it might be the camera.

This picture looks like one of those "after" pictures in those "drinking impairs your reflexes" manuals that cops use when they're trying to convince kids that drinking isn't cool by showing them blurry pictures. Let no one say that D.A.R.E. was ever a waste of taxpayers money. Heck, sold me. After seeing this picture, I'll never drink again.

I like this picture. I'm going to use it for something someday somehow sometime soon.

Because "artistic" and "sheep" go together.

Me and Adam. I really like this one.

Gabi, the world's cutest and most evil child. I wanted to take her home, too.

Unlike Gabi, Alina is this cute all the time. She's not evil at all.

Maria in bed, where the workers love to leave the kids. One of the volunteers this summer, Beth, is studying neo-natology (I might have made that up. I called her a neuro-natologist for a while, and when she confronted me on it, announced that I knew all the time that she was a neo-natologist, but that I was writing a script involving neuro-natology - the study of the brainwave patterns of infants. She didn't buy it, but it did give me one more script idea to not pan out at all) and worked with Maria this summer to teach her to walk. When Beth left, Maria started teaching herself, so that she could learn to climb out of her crib. Now, that's vivacity. The other two babies just lay there like slugs, the lazy bums.

Dora, helping put away the clothes. The workers love Dora because she helps them do their work so that they can sit around and do nothing. As a result, she's getting awfully spoiled, but her foster family told me that they're gonna make sure that stops once she leaves the orphanage. I think that's a good sign.

Emilia, the world's only living Cabbage Patch Doll.

And this is my new favorite picture.

No Orphans!

These are mostly of the family traveling around, and some nice shots of Budapest at night. This is actually the most boring of the three links I made, so if you're in a rush, you might want to skip this one and check out Orphans! or Orphans? No Orphans? instead. On the other hand, it does shed some light on the John Calvin rumors, so it may be worth a glance.

Alexandra, Dre, and, Ioana. I don't know how to spell that last one, honestly, I never had to until just this second. Anyway, Alexandra and Ioana were volunteers who didn't do any work but were a lot fun anyway, and Dre is the daughter of Peter and Ana Lucaciu, who run the orphanage and the clinic and the coffeehouse, and who I lived with this summer. She's very cool, but she has terrible music taste in that it's completely different from mine.

Budapest at night. I don't know where this is.

The rumors? All true, my friend, all true.

In the back of this picture, behind the unbelivably gorgeous St. Matthias Cathedral, is my hotel room window. Yes. Be jealous.

Also, Budapest at night. I think this is the St. Matthias Cathedral at night. Again, right outside my window. Yes. Be jealous.

That's Chris in the middle, and his little sister Ina on the right, and the girl who lives with Ina on the left. I can't recall her name. It's something very Romanian, if that helps. In fact, honestly, I think it's Ioana. Huh. How about that.

And finally, Budapest at night. We took this picture while drinking champagne on the Danube. Yes. You're jealous.

Orphans!

I'll be honest, there are a lot of pictures here. Perhaps too many. Fortunately, they're all done as thumbnails, so you can pick and choose which ones you'd like to enlarge (the ones featuring cute orphans) and the ones that you wouldn't (the ones featuring me).

Still, this page gives you a better idea than anything else of what my summer was like - in these assorted images, you see exactly where my heart lies; and what it is that I'm missing so badly. Enjoy their smiles and pray for them, because if the situation doesn't change in the near future, these kids will never, ever, be adopted.

By the way, in past posts featuring pictures, my grammar was embarassingly critiqued for incorrect usage of "me," "myself," and so on. As a result, in this post, I have every intention of using those words incorrectly as many times as possible. Me might even turn off the comments, so y'all can't say a single thing to I about it.

Emil and Gabi. This pictures sums the two of them up pretty well.

Emilia and me. Normally I put the names left to right, but I figured you could guess in this case.

Sanda, who I would adopt in a heartbeat, if the Romanian government saw fit to allow the adoption of three-year-old Gypsy by an unemployed bankrupt American college student. Hey, it could happen.

Timea and I bickered throughout much of the summer, until it finally came to a head one day. I kept her in time-out for two hours until she finally apologized. From then on, we were the best of friends. I don't know how that happened, but I wish it was the case with more kids. Pamela and Gabi ran me ragged.

This is Ramona not eating, while I contribute my views on the subject.

Chris tries to play with Dora as Emil plants yet another kiss on him. He's pretty fruity for a three-year-old, I'll be honest. Cried for two hours until we let him get his nails painted with the girls. Total Liberace. I would've taken him with me in a second.

This is Geta. I met Whitney and Elliott, the parents who have trying to adopt her for two years, before adoptions closed for good. It's terrible because the two of them would be so perfect for her, exactly what she needs, and if the EU has it's way, it'll never happen. Still, keep the situation in mind: Elliott and Whitney have a hearing on September 14th in D.C. with an organization that deals with situations like this in fifty different countries. If the hearing goes well...

Me 'n Robi.

Sanda is quite determined not to be photogenic. She sometimes doesn't succeed.

Nati actually adopts this expression most of the time. When I first got there, she would sit and stare for hours on end. We decided that she would grow up to be the world's scariest goth chick.

Me, Adam, 'n Catalin check out the scene outside. This is their favorite thing to do.

Gabi's hobby is destroying cameras brought my unsuspecting short-term American missionaries.

Catalin.

It's been suggested that Emil will grow up to be an underwear model. This is not unlikely, since he's already got the million-dollar smile and flamboyant behavior.

Maria is not legally supposed to be at the orphanage, since the law states that no child can be in an orphanage or foster home until the age of two. The government thinks it would be better if the kids were all kept in one room at the hospital, where they can be completely neglected by government-approved personnel. This is a good idea except for the fact that it makes no logical sense whatsoever.

Dora.

This is Ramona, who is almost five but can't speak yet and displays a number of autistic symptoms. A family is trying to get permission to bring her to the States to get treatment. The Romanian government, naturally, has met such a suggestion with open arms, which is why Ramona is still there.

Catalin, not looking his brightest. He's actually quite a clever little kid. Not that the workers have noticed.

These kids know no Romanian songs, but they do know all the motions to "I'm in the Lord's Army," which is more than most kids who have performed it in front of church on Youth Sunday.

Dia went through an entirely bottle of bubbles without ever really getting the knack. Still, you've got to admire her determination.

This is a pretty good indication of what Robi is like.

This is a good indication of what Gabi is like right after she's done something wicked.

Back Row: Dia and Gabi.
Front Row: Ariel, Geta, Sanda, and Sarah
This picture was taken while I was in Budapest, which is why everyone looks happy and actually got dressed up for once.

Anca dubbed Daria "the Mexican Grandma." Tell me if you can see it, too.

And finally, this is Martin, who always looks forlorn when he eats.

Always Got It: Shooting Script

FADE IN:
INT. COFFEESHOP - DAY
RICH, a preppy-looking twenty-something in designer clothes and a slightly too-hip hairstyle, is sitting and apparently reading the New York Times. As he sits, MINDY, a shy, slightly bookish-looking intellectual, sits down with a cup of coffee and a book on the other side of the restaurant. RICH looks over and is startled to see her.

RICH (VO)
Woah. She’s back. Alright. You know how this plays, Shaquille. Keep it cool. Start working the magic.

RICH slouches down in his chair, sprawls his legs out, and arches one eyebrow over at MINDY.
RICH (VO)
I’m about to bag me a filly.

RICH looks towards MINDY, hesitates, then coughs once. MINDY glances up. RICH gives her the eye, then looks away spastically. He scans his newspaper like a lawyer reviewing a brief.

RICH (VO)
Rock solid.

MINDY (VO)
What the devil?

MINDY tries to focus on her book. She looks slightly perturbed.

RICH (VO)
Okay, time to raise the stakes. This is Vegas, baby – and this house always wins.

RICH deliberately knocks some newspaper onto the floor. He bends down to get it, his eyebrow raised, his eyes never leaving MINDY. As a result, he is unable to see where the newspaper is. He begins pawing the ground for it blindly. MINDY glances up. RICH gives her a look that utterly fails to be smouldering – instead, he looks something like a perverted weasel. He picks up a paper and opens it with great nonchalance. MINDY moves everything on the table to block her view of RICH and desperately pretends to still read her book.

RICH (VO)
Alright, Kemosabe. She’s eating out of your hand. Make your move.

MINDY (VO)
It’s like watching a Chihuahua try to mate with a Great Dane.

MINDY pauses, then looks out between the items on the table to see RICH is now unbuttoning several buttons of his shirt. MINDY blanches.

MINDY (VO)
Hail Mary full of grace the Lord is with thee, blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb.

RICH (VO)
Okay, err on the side of caution here. You can’t give it away all at once. Even the world’s studliest stud’s got to know his… uh… limitations.

RICH begins to fluff out individual chest hairs from the opening in his shirt. He looks over at MINDY to find she has now lain her head down on the table. She tries to still show interest in her book.

RICH (VO)
Okay, mariachi, time to read the body language. I’m pretty sure she’s trying to send me a message. No, wait – I am sure.

RICH looks again. MINDY has now covered her head with her arms.

MINDY (VO)
This is the position rangers recommend to ward off bear attacks. Please get the picture.

RICH (VO)
C’mon, Bogie. Great lovers like Cassanova could read a girl like dough. The smallest detail means something. Focus.

MINDY has now abandoned interest in her book and placed it over her head.

MINDY (VO)
Do not come over here.

RICH (VO)
Go with your gut, Schwarzenegger. It’s time to engage.

RICH stands up, sweeping the chair back with a flourish. The chair falls over. RICH hesitates, then turns around and picks up the chair.

MINDY (VO)
Please let that be the sound of him leaving.

RICH sits back down, stands back up, then swaggers over to MINDY’s table. He reaches the table and looms over MINDY, suddenly uncertain. MINDY peeks out from under the book to see if the coast is clear. MINDY stares at RICK. RICK stares at MINDY. He has clearly forgotten what he was going to say.

RICH (VO)
Holy pudding and biscuits.

MINDY (VO)
Please have something to say. Oh, sweet Moses, he’s going to just stand there.

RICH (VO)
Say something! Anything! Quick! Don’t just stand here looking hot!

MINDY (VO)
I wonder, if I made a run for it, if I’d make it to the door before he caught me.

RICH (VO)
New plan! Evasive action!

RICH makes a break for the door, knocking the chair across from MINDY over. A few moments pass, then RICK reappears, rights the chair, then exits again. MINDY stares as he leaves, completely shell-shocked.

EXT. COFFEESHOP – DAY
RICK stands outside, freaking out. He paces wildly, waving his hands, kicking things, generally freaking out.

RICK (VO)
What happened? You had it! The light was on in her eyes. And you blew it! Hardcore! Like a sucker – you loser! Aw, c’mon you stupid – aw, c’mon, what the – c’mon!

RICH pauses in frustration, then catches sight of himself in a window. He stares at himself longingly. Just then, a BEAUTIFUL GIRL walks by. He watches at her for a moment, looks back at the mirror, and primps a little. He smiles and winks at himself in the reflection.

RICH (VO)
Aw, who you kiddin’, man? You still got it. You always got it.

FADE OUT