I've been on a three-week drunk. However, nothing to worry about. I'd been so busy the first few months here trying to get normal, I forgot how much I love to drink. I'm a whiskey drinker, bourbon usually, Maker's Mark in particular, partly out of nostalgia for a professor I once admired, partly for its simple, delicious vanillas. If I have the money, it's definitely Islay single malt Scotch. Laphroaig if someone even more generous is buying. If I'm with a crowd and have no way to control the parameters of the evening, cheap beer will do: Bud Light, Red Stripe, PBR. You can drink that stuff forever and keep the next-morning regret to a minimum. But lately, it's been vodka, straight from the bottle, preferably after its been sitting in a freezer. Or on a bedroom windowsill. The hangovers aren't nearly as bad after a night of brown spirits or red wine and will kill an insomnia-attack just like that. Now that I've established my frame of mind, let's get on with it.



Last week, my Romanian writer friend Cristian tipped me off on his favorite homeland-movie of all time: 12:08 East of Bucharest, which played at the Harvard Film Archive. Cristian is like most Romanians I know: cynical yet friendly, intellectual, political, perverse, funny as hell. This movie, which focuses on the revolution of 1989, is not much different. It has the kind of comfortable filmic lethargy and ridiculousness I love, plus plenty of drinkin' and percussion-instrument playing. What I'd like to know is where they found the Chinese-Romanian actor to play the firecracker-selling Asian shopkeeper. In the realm of iconic film characters, this guy is up there with Mr. Little Jeans/Pagoda and the dancing midget in Twin Peaks. On second thought, his is way better -- more crucial to the plot and not nearly as racist/freakist. If you want to read more, check out Cristian's blog, and search under 'movies.'