A Rozy View on Life

I am John Rozelle, hear me ROAR like a dinosaur!

Monday, November 19, 2007

Mmmmmmm....meat and geography

So there I sat, eating my tasty pljeskavica (very over-simply stated it is a Croatian hamburger). Upon eating approximately half of it, I paused to remove some more of the onions (you know me) that were on this tasty meat and bread product. To my surmise, upon removing the top bun I recognized something. Although I expected to see a partial meat patty on the bottom bun, I found something even more remarkable. Croatia.



Yes, that's right. Croatia. But in meat form. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, my pljeskavica was a very patriotic piece of meat and had become the shape of Croatia.
















Oh, what a treasure indeed. How blessed I consider myself to be a part of this modern day miracle.




Monday, November 12, 2007

If you are not amused by bathroom humor, you should probably skip this post

So I went to my friend's village for a couple days and the first day we went to his uncle's vineyard to pick grapes. As we were picking grapes, we had our fair share to eat as well. They were amazing. Not only were we eating grapes off the vine, but we also indulged in fresh figs and peaches from trees he was growing. This isn't the story in itself, but just some background info. Main point: I had eaten a lot of fruit.
The next day my friend was working, so I walked around town and spent time reading. I was sitting at a cafe around 9am, and realized that in order for me to make the most of the day I needed to take care of something first. That something was a body's natural response to eating so much fruit the previous day. I walked past the waitress to the bathroom. I walked through the first room which consisted of a urinal and sink, and proceeded into the stall.
Upon covering the seat with protective strips of toilet paper, business began. I was quickly met with an uncomfortable situation. The lights went out. "Did the waitress come turn the lights out? Did the light bulb burn out? Will it just be more embarrassing if I try to yell to the waitress in broken Croatian to come turn the light on?" These were the questions running through my mind. I opted to take matters into my own hands, presuming that the less amount of attention I draw to myself the better.
In MacGyver like fashion I wield my cell phone like a flashlight and search for a light switch. No luck. Plan B. Use the cell phone light to provide enough light needed to tie up the loose ends of business. I admit this was less than ideal.
I open the stall door into the room with the sink and urinal and am met with a surprise. The lights came on. "Why?" you ask. Because some incompetent person (or one with a creative sense of humor) had installed a motion sensored light for the entire bathroom in only one part of the bathroom. The bathroom stall was completely removed from the potential of setting off the sensor, and only those using the urinal or sink received the benefit of a lighted room. Brilliant.
With the company of light I return to stall to retrieve my jacket and purse (it's ok in European culture for men to have purses). The lighting revealed that the toilet still held evidence of my visit (don't make that face, I already warned you in the title), so holding to my convictions of bathroom etiquette, I grabbed the toilet scrubber and removed the evidence of my business transaction. Another unfortunate circumstance met me.
You know how some people unscrew the lids to salt shakers in restaurants so that when people salt their food the cap will fall off and their meal will be covered in salt? Well, it's kinda like that, but instead of the salt shaker lid coming off, it was the scrubber portion of the toilet scrubber that came off and I stood there, kneeling over the bowl with the scrubber handle in hand. The scrubber sank to the bottom recesses of the bowl. I felt I already had a bonding experience with this toilet. Would this bonding increase to the point that my convictions of bathroom etiquette would force me to stick my hand in toilet to retrieve the scrubber? Heck no.
My conviction held strong, but I had watched enough MacGyver to know there had to be other options. I may be over-stepping my bounds making comparison to MacGyver, as you may now be expecting me to concoct a duct tape lasso that I used to retrieve the scrubber. That I did not do. But I did work the handle back into the scrubber while it sat at the bottom of the toilet and was able to screw the handle back into the scrubber enough to return it to its rightful home in the stand next to the toilet. Mission accomplished.
Sometimes simple things like going to the bathroom are really not all that simple.

Thursday, November 01, 2007

How you know you've still got it going on.

You walk into a high school classroom. You are introduced to the teacher. A girl in the classroom smiles and waves to you and says to the guest that introduced you to the teacher, "Aren't you going to introduce him to us?"