Swimming With My Clothes On

Couldn't Help Myself

2010-04-29T11:08:00.002+07:00

Since living far and away I've really grown to love blogging, and I don't exactly want to give it up. Sooooo, I have a new one, starting back where I come from. Yes, that's right. Go with it.

Anywho, since it's about nothing other than me and my little life, it's private. If you are interested in keeping up with my aforementioned little life, click here, and I'd be happy to add you to the list.

Muah*

Moving Right Along

2010-04-15T10:05:00.004+07:00

Things are changing pretty big around here. No more Thailand for me. It's down to the job hunt. People don't really talk about how much work finding a job actually is. So much, in fact, that I think my life will settle down tremendously ---like, I might have a whole day just to relax--- once I land my next steady paycheck. I'm not complaining though, not in the slightest. Quite the opposite, as I've thoroughly enjoyed such high levels of productivity finally making their way back into my life.

In the last three weeks I've:

A) bought a car and cell phone. this puts me in the ranks of "real person" for the first time in 18 months. pretty exciting stuff.

B) landed a job. full-time substitute for the month of may, baby. that's right, be jealous. i'm a science teacher yo. truth: i am completely stoked on this opportunity and feel very strongly that it's the perfect position for me at this time. it's my ticket in the door, and i'm holding on tight.

and.....

C) gotten a dog!!! this is most definitely the chicken-winner-dinner on the list. i am trying super hard not to become one of those unbelievably annoying dog owners who can't talk about anything outside of their precious pooch, speaks to the pup in baby voices, and doesn't have any issues openly discussing his bathroom schedule, but it's becoming quite the challenge (trust me, i'm as shocked as you are). he's just so awesome i seriously can't help myself.

Meet McGee:

I mean, honestly, how could you not love him.

And with that, it's time for me to say goodbye. I've had an amazing time abroad and loved documenting the experience. But I don't have much to offer in the way of useful or interesting cultural information anymore. My life is turning into nothing more than family, dog, friends and job. And I couldn't be happier. It's time for me to be home, and now I'm gonna' get to it.

Sawat di kah, puan. ---AKA goodbye, friends.

I Recognize It's a Bit Ridiculous...

2010-04-01T05:02:00.011+07:00

... to devote an entire post to one sight when we saw dozens, but I just can't help myself. The Colosseum was magnificent.

Iono about you, but I was hooked at first sight. It was such a treat to have the opportunity to return (actually, it was the main reason we decided to give Rome a second go) and really dive into it. I was impressed.

By the way, construction of this sucker began in 70AD. 70AD!!!!!! I can't even begin to comprehend something so old.

I pretty much refused to pay for a tour, but that didn't stop me from eavesdropping on other's guided excursions in an attempt to gain a bit of info. I was that obscure girl hanging out in the background pretending not to listen. But oh, I was soaking it up! Bah hah hah. Through this process, I acquired knowledge that now seems painfully obvious, but at the time I found it intriguing. For example, in the photo above, the area you see was once completely covered and acted as the stage. I was honest-to-baby-j walking around thinking it was as small as what we see today, and I couldn't for the life of me determine the thought process behind this particular composition. Way.to.go.me. I mean, No way has the structure changed after a mere 1940 years. Nooo way! DOH! Anywhom, things really started clicking for me once I overheard that gem.

That's my mom there looking up at the wall. What a massive structure. It was quite overwhelming to take it all in honestly, but in the best way possible.

Here's me and the moms on the second story. We probably spent an hour walking around, and weren't able to draw any solid conclusions when it came to the seating. It housed up to 50,000 people, but I wasn't seeing it. Don't get me wrong, it's ain't called the Colosseum for nothing, there just wasn't anywhere to sit. And yet another situation where "one of the greatest works of Roman architecture" (according to wiki, but I concur 100%) isn't the same in the 21st century as it was in the first. Come on now guys, what's that about?!

Apparently (after research), the seats were made of marble and numbered to correspond with each individual's ticket. The seating was tiered and given according to status. As far as we could tell, none of this remains.

I was leaning over the edge to get the cross and Arch of Constantine. It was a pretty busy day with the marathon, which made it lots of fun. I'm sure it's soooo much more crowded in the summer months. When we came the first evening after it had closed, we had the place to ourselves. There was a kind of magic in having something so grand left to us and us alone. Even while freezing and soaked through from the rain, we were fully encompassed in its power. All the cold and wet ran away from our little awe-stricken bodies with the storm. I especially appreciated the moment after returning and realizing just how crowded it could get.

I like this one.

Right across the street a massive area filled with ruins caught our attention. Had we known better, we would have allowed ourselves more time. Arriving around 4 left us with only an hour to explore before closing, which simply wasn't enough. We could have easily dedicated an entire day to the ruins. There were gardens, remnants of old palaces and dozens of things we loved passing by without having the faintest clue as to what they used to be. The photo above and below were in this section. Back in the day, there were underground passages between these areas and the Colosseum.

Happy Birthday..... TO ME!!!!

2010-03-26T05:03:00.005+07:00

It was soooo freakkking cool to celebrate my birthday in Rome!!!!!!!!! WOWZA. And I'm now officially a twenty-hewhoshallnotbenamed year old. I could tell you, but I'd have to kill you. Okay okay, I'm kidding, but trust me. OLD. (okay, you got me. 24. GAH).

We dedicated the day to the colosseum. And there was a marathon. The city was so alive. Basically, it was perfect.

Since we were in Italy, and pretty much every day of the trip felt like my birthday, I wasn't really expecting to feel any different on the actual day. Not that it wouldn't be special, it's just that everything had been so amazing. I didn't see how it could get any better. But, to my surprise, I had the berfday juices flowing through my body good. I was feeling it.

Let me tell you a little story about me and this most awesome of awesome days. Bringing you back to 2005, and my freshman year of college. So it's my birthday, and I'm walking down the street, minding my own happy business. It's clear, blue skies, but it had been raining and there's water everywhere. Puddles to watch out for and such. Along comes a truck, a big one, around the corner just as I'm walking past. The driver flies through a giant puddle, splashing me from head to toe in mud. Normally at this stage in life I would have freaked and totally gotten upset because said driver totally ruined my clothes and gosh, what a totally terrible day. Sigh. Instead, I shrugged with a grin and said (out loud and to no one) Welp, it's my birthday, and just kept on walking and kept on smiling like nobody's business. It was me-- in public, covered in mud, having a happy, happy day.

I've felt like this without fail once a year for as long as I can remember.

On this one special day it's really all about the attitude. No matter what happens, I'm having a good time. Ultimate goal: to maintain my birthday mentality 365 days a year.

So you see, for me it's kind of a big deal. But I wasn't expecting it this year, because I thought Italy couldn't get any better. Let me tell you dear friends, on this one day, it did. Awesome.

It's me and my momma bright and early. On my birthday. Hi!

Baby Jesus thought of me and decided to give me a good hair birthday. Thanks Baby Jesus, I won't forget this.

Jack in the Box meets gelato. I dug it. Yummmmm. Sorry about the cone in the eye thing mom... my b.

We saw the Trevi Fountain at night as a final bday treat.

Everything Else Venice

2010-03-25T10:41:00.001+07:00

Welcome to Venice, the one-of-a-kind city made up of 118 islands, connected by 400 bridges, with 180 canals. Think about it. Wow.

I cannot stress enough how much of a fallen-down-the-rabbit-hole, complete trip of a city Venice is. First off, it's a total maze. Absolutely no grid system and dead ends practically around every corner. Arrows are in place, supposedly leading pedestrians to hot-spot destinations, but instead they run you in circles. Eventually you just have to hope that maybe in all your wandering you will stumble upon your desired location. On occasion this works out, but often for us we found ourselves somewhere in the vicinity after closing time. If you see something you want in this city, get it. There's no telling if you will ever be able to find the store again. On the main road, sure, you can browse and consider a purchase for tomorrow. But inside, the deep deep heart of Venice, where you can hardly tell which way is up and directions are useless, absolutely not. We saw several items of interest, only once. Damn. We couldn't even replicate our routes to the sights, always managing to stumble upon them in some form or fashion that had nothing to do with our original directions.

I figured the best way to explain this would be with a city map. It's small, but note all the question marks. The X is our hotel, and the google bubble is Piazza San Marco, their most famous sight. Not the easiest place for us to find.

See?? This place is a nightmare if you need to know exactly where you are/how to get somewhere. But, that's part of what makes it so charming. Aside from the fact that we lost out on some great souvenir opportunities, it was thoroughly enjoyable.

One thing about Italy that I liked is how each city very much has it's own vibe and heartbeat. We found Venice to be no exception, as it was particularly special. The trinkets and gifts were like none we had seen previously, and very specific to the area. They were of a nicer quality. A lot of it focused on Carnival, which we didn't care too much about, but it was still impressive. Also, the Murano Glass. Which is quite pretty. The fabric and paper shops were wonderful. All in all, it is an ideal city for window shopping. They had such alluring displays; it was quite the distraction for my mother. There we were, off towards our destination of choice, with an hour and a half to spare, and we'd manage to miss it by 20 minutes because she just couldn't help herself. Never in my life have I lead her anywhere. As you may well know, I am a bit of a slow walker. AKA I've never met anyone who moves at a more leisurely pace. I move at a stroll, really. And my mom, well, she's getting a move on it. So, I was completely unprepared to be in the position to ask her to hurry it up now, shooing her along. Quite the role reversal for us, but there I was.

Here's mom, wandering around aimlessly at a snail's pace with her head in the clouds, mouth agape and completely in awe at all the beautiful things in the window: Jacqueline, look how beautiful that purse is. Ooooh, and those shoes!

Me: Mom, I know they're gorgeous, but that's the wrong way! We only have 15 minutes to make it to the palace. Don't you want to go?

Mom, now completely distracted and oblivious, trying to focus on the shoes and make a decision: Uhhh, yes yes. You're right. I'm coming...

It was very cute.

And, in her defense, the shopping was in a league of its own. I completely understood the hold-up.

Another Alice in Wonderland like quality belonging to this city is the sense of wonderment that seeps into your soul as you step out of the train station and take it all in for the first time. It possesses a Disney Classic kind of ambiance. Whimsical and enchanting. You can't help but feel good about yourself and life as you're looking out at the Grand Canal. In our 96 hours, that sense of amazement never left me. Walking around, completely lost, it was hard to believe this place really existed in the same world I've been living in my 24 (woah! yeah, wtf I'm officially OLD) years. Pretty pretty pretty cool.

You have to be careful, or you might find yourself off the road and in the water. True story. There wasn't any protection for pedestrians, which again added to the charm, but sure made us keep an eye out. Some of the pathways were so narrow we might as well have been scaling the wall. On those, we just turned back into the maze in search of another route. They must have it pretty under control cuz we never heard any splashing or screaming, but I'd be scared to bring a child there. Just sayin'. It'd be destination of choice for those looking to off a spouse. Just a slight nudge in the water and a nonchalant walk back into the maze would do it... Again, just sayin'.

I loved looking at the buildings, 100s of years old and full of life and stories, on the edge of the island visibly sinking into the ocean. Powerful, yet jarring. I mean really. Jarring = understatement. How long is that city predicted to last before it's all gone underwater? We're talking about a place with history dating back to the ninth century. And these people knew what they were doing. It only started to subside in the 20th century when wells were sunk in the lagoon to provide water for the locals (according to Wiki). So, let's break it down. For over 10 centuries it survived, strong and completely above ground. And then bam. Down it's going. Thanks guys. Anyways, you can actually see it sinking. Like, see it. And feel it. The ground is completely uneven underneath your feet. Sometimes we would stop and look at each other thinking, Uhhh, should we bale? Feeling safe over there? Sink or not, it was totally worth it.

Oh, and the food in Venice was excellent. Not that you would expect anything less in Italy. Still, it didn't disappoint.

And, there are no cars. This little touch only added to the charm. Pretty great.

We had planned for only two days in the city, we pushed it to four, and I still wasn't satisfied. I said it my first night, but Venice made me want to pack up my things and settle in for good. In my cute little canal-side apartment, I could jump out my cute little window, climb over the old beautiful bridge and ride off in my cute little boat to my cute litte store where I sold beautiful things. I would looooovvvvvveeeeeeeeeee to live there. If only I was a ba-zilllllllionairre. How do they do it?!

Venice In Still Life

2010-03-23T00:20:00.010+07:00

Just a few pics of our time in this labyrinth of a city. Walking around, it was so hard to believe a place like this really existed. Very surreal, to say the least. I loved it. There is lots to tell, and I'll fill you in on all the fun stuff when I'm back stateside. T-minus 48 hours!

Almost all of the streets were very narrow, in between shops and buildings. I loved getting such a close-up view of all the old architecture and textures. For me, it was kinda the perfect way to get from point A to B.

Loved this. The photo isn't great, but little boy in sailor hat and his mother hanging out was a great Venice moment for me.

Inside the Doge's Palace. This was the only pic I took here, and I didn't take any of Piazza San Marco. These places really are too beautiful for pictures. It sounds weird, but it felt disrespectful to take them. So I didn't. There's no way I could have ever done it justice, you really just have to see it in person.

A view from our vaporetto on the grand canal. Those buildings are Soooo old, AND sinking. Yet, still in use. I mean, how freakin' cool is that?!

Mom and I out and about on the vaporetto, first thing of our tired day. It was probably around 1:30. I couldn't get out of bed until after noon, just so exhausted.

On top of the Rialto Bridge, Venice's most famous. The interior is lined with dozens of shops. It's huge!

Hope you enjoyed! We certainly did. Venice is a keeper.

Oh, To Get Lost in Venice

2010-03-17T05:30:00.009+07:00

A real dream come true in the life of me, come to find out.

We've been here for only a few hours and I can't help but question my research sources on the city. Why would anyone be ready to leave this place after only a day? No, no, that just won't do. It is most unusual, yet surprisingly elegant. Turns out I'm quite taken with Venice. And I plan to get lost and lost and lost for the next 48 hours. 2 days is not enough, but it will have to suffice. This city is the first that's made me want to move to Italy. I'm completely enthralled. Never know what I will have found come sunset on Thursday, but I guarantee it will be pretty.

Local Trains, Little Towns.

2010-03-16T06:19:00.011+07:00

Chapter 2: Lucca-- "A Place of Fairy Tales"

I'm pretty big about rambling on and on and on about how wonderful something is, but I'm not gonna do that here. I'll leave it up to you to decide. And the city's wall is still completely intact, just fyi. That's what you're seeing. At a 2 hour train ride, what a fantastic sunny day. Ciao!

Walking from the train station this was our view of the city. Woah. Talk about impressive. It was the perfect place to spend our first sunny day of Traipse Across Italia, 2k10.

From just inside the walls. We crossed through this area, and I felt like I entered a fairytale land from the days of yore. That's right, yore.

A bit of a steep incline. I certainly didn't want to fall! After my first brave attempts at peering over, I stayed clear of the edge. There wasn't any protection. It enhanced the beauty, but sure made me act carefully.

Tons of bikes in the city, and most were very old. They all had baskets like this one too. The people of Lucca seemed to live at a much slower pace, having a life I envision similar to 50s Americana, just 10x higher on the pretty scale.

It was nice how parts of the wall were covered like this on the interior, making things feel so natural. It all came together in this little town.

Looking out over some backyards and gardens. If you look in the top right corner, you can see a tower with trees growing on top. We thought it was interesting, and unusual. Maybe a park up there?!

I love this. So much of the world doesn't use a dryer. If nothing else, I enjoy looking at the clothes. Makes me feel like these are a peaceful people. Not sure where that connection comes from, as I have been without a dryer for over a year now. Shouldn't seem so foreign, but it does. I definitely love it.

On top of the wall, looking outside the city. It is still hard for me to believe people live here. Where could they possibly go for a vacation? No, you would never want to leave.

Handbags, Footwear, and Cuisine. Oh My!

2010-03-15T03:40:00.016+07:00

If you have a weakness for any of the above, this is seriously not the place for you. Or I guess, maybe it is, depending on how you're looking. But man, do they have the goods. I have met some handbags on this trip I just wanted to curl up next to and take to bed with me. For reals. Under the covers and everything. I just fell in love. My new personal favorite is snake skin. Soo soft, so pretty. So made for me. There are just too many from which to choose. Paradise. Now, if only I could find an affordable version of paradise. That sounds too perfect for words.

And the shoes. Oh, the shoes! One thing Italy does well is flats. Not to knock the heels (as they are equally unparalleled), but I find myself constantly impressed with the ballet-style footwear they are rockin' in these parts. They are stylish and comfortable, quite the unusual combination. Here in Florence, people have it together when you're talking fashion (not in Rome- SHOCKER). But it's so dang hard to walk around this city. What with the narrow streets, practically non-existent sidewalks in places, and cobblestone pathways, it's a wonder they don't have more pedestrian injuries. But they don't. They compromise. Beautifully. I wish American shoe designers would get a clue. Let's make it PRACTICAL and BEAUTIFUL. TOGETHER. I think maybe women would like that. Well, this little lady loves it. So soft and giving, and flat. Yet sexy and chic and stylish. Where do I sign all my credit away? Cuz I'll do it, sir.

I had a dish here that was so good, it brought me to tears. TEARS. Really, I cried. I know, crazy right? My mom and I will discuss our food for 30 minutes. How does that happen? Don't you think we would have moved on to a better topic? No. No we wouldn't. There's no better topic in Italy. Mmmmm, mmm. Yumm. Oh my gosh, can you believe this? Here, taste it. Perfect.

The food is good. Damn good. These Italians know how to bring the elements together. It's all about combination and after taste. On the first bite maybe you're thinking, Ooh, this is pretty good. On the second, Yumm, I'm really liking this. By the fifth, you're hooked. It's the best meal you've ever had. And then you're finished and the taste left in your mouth is nothing short of magnificent. We've been enjoying a lot of veal, treating ourselves almost every night. Lucky for us, they pass no judgement whether we eat momma or baby. It's not my intent to offend, but no matter your personal PETA, we like baby. And I'm not apologizing for it. So thanks, Italy. It is de-lish. Also, the soup. Quite the horse of a different color, as I would never think categorize it as such. Much thicker, and lacking broth. But still Ahhh-mazing. What we've had has been real comfort food.

Let's get to the point. Desserts. Delectable delectables. The trick is they're not too sweet. And they're light. We like to load it up back in the good ole' USofA. Sugar sugar and heavy heavy. Why do we think that's best? Italy is where it's at when it comes to your after dinner cravings. Again, they are spot-on with the flavor combinations. So far, we've enjoyed tira misu, chesnut flan, ricotta cheese cake, and an assortment of baked goods that were scrumptittilyumptious.

Bottom line: The hype is certainly warranted. If you weren't a handbag whore/shoe lover/foodie before visiting Italy, you are now. Trust.

Pics for Dad and Everything Florence

2010-03-14T01:09:00.020+07:00

We had such a lovely little day in Firenze, of which I'll tell you all about later tonight. Headed off to the opera now. In the meantime, some pics to enjoy- even if you're not my dad, but especially if you are.

View from the Piazza Michelangelo, just outside the wall of Florence.

Me and The Duomo. We were able to attend a church service there on Sunday, and even though we couldn't understand a word, it was very beautiful. And cold! Well worth our time and a definite recommendation if you are interested.

You can see the city's wall running up the right side of the photo.

These photos were taken looking down on the city wall and up at the steps from the same location. I loved glancing back at the wall and still life surrounding us. Looking out at what I had always envisioned an Italian street to be was a peaceful moment. Nothing like we see back home. At the top they had several little cafes, and some nice hillside steps for people to relax, have a beer (lots of Coronas- HA) and enjoy the sun soaked view of Firenze. We could have stayed there for hours, but it was a pretty romantic spot, and as the only mother-daughter pair for miles, we moved it on along after about 20 minutes.

Sorry for the delay, times have been busy. We ended up staying in Florence five days/six nights. It was a great way to spend such a big chunk of our time. What with the daytrips, museums, history, architecture, churches, shopping, sights, views, food, and --I'm guessing you get the idea-- culture, we enjoyed ourselves from beginning to end. I will say walking on those treacherously paved roads with suitcases presented a challenge, but that's my only complaint. The Uffizi. The Accademia. The Duomo. Holy Jesus, Mary and Joseph did we get such a unique opportunity to see one-of-a-kinds first hand. Like Michelangelo's Statue of David. My mother just finished a novel where it was discussed that art is supposed to invoke awe in the viewer. None of this Jackson Pollock BS (if you love him, deal. My comment/opinion certainly isn't going to hurt his reputation. And admit it, you can't compare him to Michelangelo). I have to confess before this trip I didn't have a huge appreciation for art. Beautiful things, yes. I like pretty things. Sculptures, paintings, I could enjoy them, but very rarely was I moved. I spent most of the time not getting what all the fuss is about. Well, the Statue of David could move mountains. I was completely in awe. That thing moved me so much, I was almost back in America by the time I walked out. A whole different kind of impressive. A photograph could never do it justice.

And some of the paintings at the Uffizi blew me right out of the water. I never thought it possible that I could be an art snob, but I certainly know the difference in quality after seeing such masterpieces. Now when I look at the reproductions around town all I can think is how they pale in comparison. Not even in the same league. Weak. The originals were otherworldly.

Apart from the museums, I particularly enjoyed our time in the streets. Florence is a small city, petite even. She's dainty. We could walk from one side to the other with no trouble. Taking in the hustle and bustle of daily life, mixing the local with tourist was lots of fun. They have all kinds of silly things for outsiders to do that bring in revenue to the city. Like ride in a horse drawn carriage through the center of town. Florence is at the top of the list for cities dependable on tourism, they simply wouldn't survive without it. But they are gracious. I was surprised to see just how many people were living there. Lots of families, baby strollers, and little doggies that nobody picked up after-------- SAY WHAT? That mess is crazy. How could Florentines, of all people, walk around a city full of doggie doo? Not sure I'll ever understand. Pick it up! THAT JUST AIN'T RIGHT.

They would transport their chitlins around on the front and sides of bikes. Yesh, too scary for me. But there was a definite sense of looking out for one another, and they make it work. I, however, kept envisioning all these terrible scenarios of mother and baby getting rammed by an SUV driving soccer mom sipping on her grande frappuchino, turning around and releasing the wheel to smack her son in a seat-belt wearing fight. Meanwhile bicycle peddling mother tragically lands on top of baby in the street. Not a nice image. I'd have to remind myself I'm not in America, where a bitch will run ya over for glancing at her funny. From what we saw, these are a happy people.

The church service and opera were perfect bite-sized Florence treats. Not something I would normally consider doing at home, but I was eager for the opportunity to attend an opera in Italy. We went to one in a small church, and watching from such close proximity proved a more intimate and enjoyable experience. What we saw was set-up for the tourists, and there was an English explanation before each act. But no complaints! We wouldn't have had a clue otherwise. It was nice. All and all, a worthwhile experience if you have the time. A definite recommendation. If I were to see another though, I want something more authentic. I'm glad we went, but like the art, the second-hand quality just isn't sufficient. I want the full experience.

[[[***I originally said I would return to see this particular performance again, but after touring the Venice Opera House and hearing them practice, I immediately changed my mind. The level of excellence was unmatched. Now I would only pay to see the best of the best. Don't think we'll get a chance this time around, but hopefully one day***]]]

Surprisingly, I was ready to say goodbye to Florence. After 5 days of amazing sights, activities, food, views and culture, it was time to move on. Italy just has so much to offer. And such diversity. Now's not the time to be missing out on the goods. Off to Venezia. Ciao!

Local Trains, Little Towns.

2010-03-13T04:32:00.012+07:00

Chapter 1: Pisa-- "That Tower Sure Is A Leanin'"

We took our first day trip to Pisa. It was awesome. Loved the train ride through all the small mountain towns. Bright colors and pretty houses. And cheap, too.

Loved so much more, but I'm just gonna leave you with some photos for now. I promised not to show incomplete blogs anymore, but I gotta do it here. There's so much to tell; it's all happening so fast. And all I've managed to get out is how the signs are difficult to understand, how I was sick as a dog on my first day, and how the Vatican wasn't my particular blend of choice. That just won't do. This is the most magical place on earth. Italia is my Disney Land, and it has exceeded every single extraordinarily high expectation I put on it. It's just that kind of place. I love it. Love it. So I wanted to show a little gratitude. The Tower was unbelievable in person. I've never seen a photo that made me think it would be beautiful, but it most definitely was. What a great little town, a great train ride, a perfect little day.

I'll get back and fill in the details of our trip when I can. But it's 10:30 and I can barely keep my eyes open. Time to catch some zzzzzs.

NOT fake. Mad props to my mom's photog skills. Love this.

All of the cathedrals have just blown us away with their beauty.

Woah!

Somewhere in the center of town, inside the walls.

What a beautiful view from the bridge.

Confession: I'm a Terrible Traveler

2010-03-11T16:00:00.004+07:00

A little hard to believe coming from un travel blogger profesionál, but I had to concede as my mother has unquestionably wiped the floor with me.

Example primo- on arrival. To be fair I had a nine hour layover in Singapore, where I wandered aimlessly through that bland, bland modern city (bags in tow) instead of resting my weary body in the airport hotel like any intelligent person would have done. And I had a much longer flight. 3 hours round 1, and 13 hours round two. Ouch. This is compared to her mere eight hours round 1, then three more. Please. Child's play.

And (laying it on real thick, naturally) since I've been living in Thailand, I have an unusually hefty load. Heavy, heavy bags I lugged up and down stairs and on and off trains and through cobblestone streets to get from the airport to our guesthouse. Then I did it all again with my mother's things only a few hours later. So, I do have a bit of an excuse.

Still, it was embarrassing. Our first full day and I can't even get out of bed. Literally. I thought I had the flu. I was ready to call an ambulance. Didn't want to move, or eat or drink. In too much pain to sleep. And there was my momma, politely resting alongside me, but fresh and fit as if she had woken from her own bed that very morning. Not lagged a bit. The nerve of her! First time to cross the pond and she is skipping and dancing off the plane, while I'm lying with my tongue hanging out, dead as a doornail. Not how I wanted it to go down at all. On the bright side, after a mere 24 hours spent in a catatonic state, I was back in the game.

In my past travel experiences, I have always had a home base; never the nomad like Traipse Across Italia 2k10. So, on Day 2, when I arrived back at life-oh-norm-al, I thought I was set.

Wrong.

Packing it up and moving from Rome to Florence was unnerving. I could just barely handle it. I discovered (even though I totally already knew this) I would hate backpacking. Really. I need the stability. Day trips-- okay fantastic. Overnight, paying for two accommodations-- excellent, when affordable. Always on the move-- straight debilitating.

Once we arrived at the central station in Rome, I was past due for a stressfest. It was nothing, and I was flipping. Nearly in tears. Exhausted. And there she was --the mom--, relaxed and calm, not a care in the world.

I was once told that I might find Europe more difficult than Asia. That it would feel like home, so the misunderstandings would be more challenging. TRUE. In Asia, I don't have any issues with stress (usually) when I don't understand, because like, why would I know what's going on???! And that's cool. But here, I should get it. Man, it was killing me. Prime Example: Bathroom signs in Termini Station. They lead to NOWHERE. I walked circles around that bia for 20 minutes, upstairs and downstairs, inside and out, to no avail. Finally, I discovered they were behind service doors on which my little American brain had plastered imaginary Don't Enter signs. I finally went against my best judgement and gave it a peek. They opened up into warehouses with restrooms, and these fools wanted me to pay to use a toilet. Gah, I was so not about to do that, especially when I had just shelled out 50 bucks for an hour and a half train ride. So I held my bladder until we reached Florence just to spite 'em. Trump card goes to me. How do you like them apples, Rome?

That's about all I have to offer in the way of I'm Much More Horrible at Traveling Than You, copyright 2k10, all rights reserved, for now. For the rest, only time will tell. For today, I'm unpacked and refreshed, enjoying Firenze-- the most beautiful city I could ever imagine, and loving every second. Ciao!

Vatican Schmatican

2010-03-10T01:37:00.021+07:00

Straight from my mother's mouth, and right to your living room: I've never heard anyone say it wasn't just incredible, but it did not float my boat.

Your guestimated response: Are You Serious??????? She didn't LOVE The Vatican? What's wrong with her?

Well, iono what that's about, but I got the same problem. It just wasn't my, errrrrrr, how shall I put it politely ---- taste?? I, uhhh, maybe thought it was just a weeeeeee bit ohmygoshpleasedon'thuntmedownandshootme ----

tacky.

Okay, there. I've said it. Go ahead and hate me. I haven't much defense after a bombshell of that caliber.

But enough of Miss Negative Nancy over here. Honestly, I am so glad I had the opportunity to see La Citá Del Vaticano. And I mean, What An Opportunity. I'm a very lucky little girl who is consequently thanking my lucky little stars. It was still incredible and truly overwhelming to consider all the history within those walls. Woah. But I had to take it to that more-history-than-my-little-American-brain-could-ever-imagine level, as face value left me unimpressed.

And, I would have never survived in tourist season. It was crowded enough, I can't even imagine the height of the hype. No, I would definitely recommend a rainy, cold, March day for your Vatican Experience. Otherwise, you'll simply be overtaken by the lines and mobs. Too much. Today, however, was manageable.

The moms and I inside the Vatican Museum.

On to greener pastures. Aka the Spanish Steps. Hype Schyme. I was all over those steps. Soooo amazing. The view of the city streets was pretty much to die for. And then to the top, and inside The Trinitá dei Monti. Very nice.

Getting warmer, The Fountain of Trevi. I really just hadn't thought about it beforehand, but man, was I impressed. My photos stop here, everything else you see is stolen. Hopefully I'll be able to replace them with my own when we return. I couldn't feel my feet due to the wet and cold, so I threw the picture thing out the window. Forgive me.

We inadvertently set ourselves up for schedule perfecto, every stop increasingly more breathtaking and awe inspiring than the last. To best explain this, at the fountain, while completely captivated, I was still capable of participating in what I would consider to be intelligent conversation. Our last sight of the day, comparatively, delivered more of a sucker punch to the gut, can't get anything coherent out of my silly little lips because what I'm looking at is simply too amazing to think straight, kind of feeling. Yes; it was like that. All I could manage was Wow, and I couldn't even muster that until almost a full minute of gawking. How lame, and what incredibly unworthy vocabulary. I'm talking about none other than the Colosseum. WOW. Put this one down in the books, kids. Quite the jaw-dropper. We didn't even get inside, it was after 5 and closed, but maaaa-an. I'll be going back. Bright and early, 9 am, so I can spend hour upon hour of gaping, wide-eyed and full of amazement, at everything it has to offer.

And that was Full Day 2. Heaps more exciting than Full Day 1, let me tell you. Tomorrow, off to Firenze. Ciao!

It's A Good Thing I've Been Living In Asia

2010-03-10T01:35:00.000+07:00

Getting from the airport to our guesthouse wasn't the easiest thing in the world. I was very happy to have had the opportunity to wander about lost with a question mark over my head before my mother's arrival. I mean, of course I wanted her to think I had managed easy as cake. And HAH, I got her. She told me she was impressed with my navigating skills. She was amazed at how easily I handled all that transport. YESSSSSSSSS. My confusion will be our little secret, k (wink, wink, don't make me come over there)? Back to Rome. What is with this absurdly inaccurate sign-age, guys? I'm not in Thailand anymore; I don't have time for this. Basically, Italy seems to think placing an arrow 20 yards in front of the hallway where you are meant to turn is a good idea. Yes, thanks so much. That's very clear. I have been staring at this wall for 30 seconds, wondering where exactly you wanted me to go. Ahh, way up yonder. Got it.

This is how I felt. At baggage claim there was a nice, pretty little picture of a train, and in English it read "Please follow the signs to the train." I was appreciative of them making my life a little easier. Not in the market for a challenge, following signs sounded like a viable option. Sweet, if only there had actually been any signs. They left out one teeny-tiny, major detail, as the English should have read "Please follow the imaginary signs to the train."

After staring off into space wondering how to fix the situation, I caught a glimpse of a corridor leaving the airport and decided to give that a try. **Random** Had the airport in Osaka not had a train station attached in this manner I would have never made the connection. I went with it and fortunately, I was right; but I wasn't certain for quite some time. As the lone pedestrian on a pathway under major construction, much of which nearly inhibited my forward motion, I was none too reassured. After about 10 minutes, I saw the train, and then there was nothing to it.

Moving from train to metro underground took a lottt of time, but little effort. Remember how they send you on a wild goose chase for your destination, pointing you in 5 different directions at once? Yes, just like that. Even so, I found the transition to be smooth as the Roman Subway has only two lines.

I said up top that it's a good thing I've been living in Asia, because if not, I'd still be moseying around that airport in search of signs without a clue. Or, more likely, I'd have paid a ridiculous amount of money for a cab, and immediately regretted it. I guess getting lost a dozen times on the Korean subways wasn't a total waste of time. It certainly proved useful today.

Useful enough to impress the mom. Nice.

Goodbye Thailand

2010-03-07T05:09:00.000+07:00

Just needed a placeholder. Can't deal with this until I'm back in Texas, but it sure was a fantastic year. I'll do Chaing Mai and Singapore from home as well.

Until then, you were certainly good to me Thailand. I love you, and I'll never forget you.

You'd Think Transportation Would Be Boring

2010-03-05T17:18:00.012+07:00

But, you'd be wrong.

2010 has shed many a harsh light on my lameness, none of which is more telling than my new-found desire to hit the hay lightyears before midnight, sans alcohol. True story. As a result, it comes as no surprise I was the first to duck out on the Farewell Party- Chiang Mai (details coming soon). However, this meant a 15 minute walk solo in the mean streets. Well, not quite mean streets, but you know, the streets. I would bet the odds were on my side in the safe-o-meter, as crime in this city is nil, but risking it just didn't feel right. I'm pretty much an all-out wuss in the walking-alone-at-night department, but I've accepted it, and you should too.

So this left me with a couple of options, and after 1.) an attempted haggling with songtaew (big truck taxi) drivers, only to arrive at what seemed like an exorbitant fare, I went with 2.) bumming a ride from a local. This is almost always successful if you know how to pick your motorbike mug. The thought occurred to me only as I saw her drive by. She must have seen me looking because homegirl stopped without my so much as waving a finger. I knew immediately she was the perfect candidate to escort me to safety.

Turns out, this wasn't just any lonely girl out and about, no no. She was a bar girl. And, dear friends, bar girl is nothing more than a nice way to say hooker. And I knew it. The way she was dressed, the men hooting at her as she drove away, her telling them she would be back. I felt her kindness though, and was relieved to have the option of riding with her. Where she was going I have no idea, but on the way she dropped me safe and sound. Didn't charge a thing, only offering up general curiosities about my well-being on the ride. Why was I alone? she wanted to know. Where was I from? And, Ohhh, you're a teacher! That was exciting news, let me tell you. Yadda yadda yadda, until I was locked-in, tucked-in, snug as a bug-in-a-rug.

I recognize this was a judgement call, and you might be questioning mine at the moment. I assure you though, I did not put myself in harm's way. Not All's well that ends well. Only, All's well on this night.

Situation Number 2: Police Bus Raid.

Obviously, significantly more intimidating. In situation number one, worst case scenario was shelling out more dough than I wanted to arrive safely at my destination. While less than desirable, completely do-able.

This however, was somewhere along the lines of peemypants terrifying. I do this weird thing in similar predicaments over here. Simply put, I freak, imagining all these horrific, worst-case scenarios. Like- the souvenirs I purchased from the market are laced with drugs. Okay, basically that's it. I have this overwhelming fear of being caught with drugs. And I couldn't possibly stay further away from them. In general, yes, but WAY more specifically in Thailand. That's a quick way to kiss the rest of your life goodbye, and the idea of it haunts my dreams. As a result, you will not meet an individual less likely to find themselves in trouble of this particular variety. Yet I fret.

So I'm sleeping, probably 1 in the morning, only to wake up after my body registered the bus had come to stop. Just barely open my eyes and I am face to back with an officer. Yikes! What's going on? Sitting there trying to keep my cool while simultaneously assessing the situation didn't do me any favors. There were probably 6 cops standing on the bus, two of which were within arm's reach, grilling passengers directly beside me. And these travelers were quivering in their seats. Unh-uhhh. This doesn't look good. What are they looking for? I was soo scared they were going to search the shopping bags I had yet to check, only to find remnants of suspicious powder, and then haul me off to the clink without a moment to catch my breath.

The likelyhood of this happening is pretty much like -.05%, and I know it. But it still scares the bee-jesus outta me. Plus, they were looking for illegal Burmese and Laotians anyways (people were showing papers), and didn't even bat an eye in my direction.

Whew. Crisis averted. Time to exhale. Does this story terrify you, too? This is my least favorite part of living in Thailand. What a nightmare. I'll leave you with a chat excerpt shared with a friend that made me feel heaps better about my over-reaction.

Me: I went wayyy up north this past week, and I caught a motorbike ride home from a hooker one night, and my bus got raided by thai police

Intense

Hayley: holy sh*t

I don't know how you can be scared of planes when stuff like this happens in your life.

Yeah, point taken. I should really prioritize my fears more appropriately. Until then..

Last Night with the Homies

2010-02-27T22:05:00.014+07:00

You certainly never know what life will bring, but if you told me I'd move to Thailand for a year and fall in love with the group of women I work with, I would have never believed you. Yet, so it is. And I love it.

I can only hope I would be so blessed to have such a wonderful working environment again in my lifetime. HAH, yeah right. Things like this just don't come around twice. But you know, it's okay. That's part of what makes it so special.

I have raved enough this past month; you definitely get the idea. I'll leave you with a few pics and videos from our end-of-the-year overnight trip. That's all.

There were so many flowers and fruits I had never seen, and they were all so beautiful!

The bathrooms were sooooo cool! We dug it (less so the next morning when there were bugs EVERYWHERE, but still, way cool).

How cute! I've never stayed at a place like this in Thailand. If I could have guessed anywhere in the world, I would have gone with Hawaii considering all the flowers and color combos.

They had a huge swimming pool, with silly little horse water spouts all around (the resort was actually a horse club as well. I was kind of excited about this, but absolutely no one else was interested, so riding wasn't in the cards) and a giant slide.

Did I swim? Absolutely not. Why? You had to have a bathing suit!!! I was soooo not expecting this. I mean, my blog isn't called Swimming with My Clothes On for nothing. It was a first for me, and only because it was at a resort. Also, maybe they distinguish between natural bodies of water and swimming pools. Not too sure... None of the Thai teachers had suits though, which made me feel better. I couldn't believe my short/t-shirt combo wasn't going to cut it.

However (you might want to brace yourself for this one), if you didn't think to bring a suit, no prob bob. You could rent one for a mere 100 baht/$3. RENT A BATHING SUIT!!!! And you're worried about me swimming in my clothes? Eewwwww.

Sunset on the top of a hill. There was a lot of room to roam around, it was such a nice and peaceful place.

Laughing about something, like always :)

Paddleboating around in the man-made pond was fun stuff.

I really wanted to steal one of these guys and put it in my bag. You could see where I'd have trouble, but man, were these hammocks cool.

The start of the greatest biking adventure ever. We were cracking up watching them put two people on each, and they just looked at us like it was nothing. Even going so far as to say three is standard (which, it totally is here, but it still blows my mind).

I was a little nervous to have such precious cargo, but Madam was confident and we did just fine.

See the tiered poles in the background? All part of a cultural dance they performed for us. It was so cool, and like nothing I've ever seen. Afterwards, they kept playing and we all danced.

Watching the slideshow we made for the year. It was so cute to see their faces.

You're Killing Me Smalls (AKA Google)

2010-02-27T19:30:00.016+07:00

First, I would love it if you got the reference. If not, I'm just gonna give it away. Sandlot, and go watch it now. It has clearly been too long.

Moving right along from one random thing to the next. I am not really sure why this stuff doesn't scare you as much as it does me. But the whole your-information-isn't-really-protected-but-we're-happy-to-let-you-think-it-is, suckahs!!, doesn't really work for me (says the girl with an open blog, I know I know. But not for long, that'll change once I settle into life-oh-normAL). Just wanted to share, cuz I am seriously not down with this bullhonkey. Copy and pasted from the fine print of the fine people over there at the big G-dawg:

Google may retain and use, subject to the terms of the Google Privacy Policy, all information you provide, including but not limited to Web site demographics and contact information. You agree that Google may transfer and disclose to third parties personally identifiable information about you for the purpose of approving and enabling your use of the Services, including to third parties that reside in jurisdictions with less restrictive data laws than your own.

My G-hunt ensued after discovering (and letting it sink in), that google is directly related to blogspot. Like, the same. Google also has a right to all of my blog information. I mean, technically, they own it. And can keep it forever. Yeah, yeah. Who the hey-zeus am I? What's the big bad google world going to do with my itty-bitty totally irrelevant, self-important information? I hear you, but that's not my point. The whole idea of not being free to choose who has access to my information, and the fact that advertising companies are using supposedly private 411 to hunt down completely unaware, unprepared potential customers leaves a really bad taste in my mouth. There they are, the 18-year olds, the mommas and the grand dads, just innocent little prey sitting there wide-eyed and curious, not knowing they could lose everything until it's already gone (true true, the next generation of Lifetime Movies will so be based on this topic and you will all be crying your eyes out). Who gave google the right? But then again, I am freely and openly posting information about myself on the web, so ummmm, yea. I guess this one's on me -- for now.

A little Q&A:

Q: Am I correct in my assumption that Google and Facebook are trying to take over the world?

A: Probably.

Q: Am I hypocritical, because I haven't stopped posting?

A: Absolutely.

Q: Do I care?

A: Not even a little, mostly because I don't see myself continuing once this chapter in my life is complete.

They should give us at least a little protection. BUT NooOOOOOooooo!

Obviously, I recognize that a blog is open to the public, so any and all information is fair game. If you download my photo and use it in an ad campaign, joke's on me for putting it there. And I'm with that, but I cannot stand the idea of it not just being a blog, it's also google, and all that entails. Which, let's face it, is a lot. There is no separation of information anymore. Have you noticed the adds in your inbox lately? Isn't it odd how they are about specific things you have discussed in emails????? I could go on for days, but at this point I'm sure you've decided if you're with me or against me. I'll go ahead and shut it down here.

***** Unexpected addition: Wow, the irony. Just as I was going to post, this baby flashed in my blogspot window. Oh, lookie-there. An add for google chrome. This must be some coincidence...

And the coincidences keep rolling in. Why, can you believe it? Now I don't even have to come to blogspot, Gmail will let me check my mail AND update the blog on the same page!! Thanks, gang. I am simply brimming over with excitement here.

Taking a guess, I imagine you're thinking I should chill out. It's no big deal, what's her problem? And that's cool. Just keep on keepin' on, but I gotta get outta this mess where I can. It Seriously Irks Me.

Eeewwwwwwwwww. Ewww.

2010-02-23T18:04:00.017+07:00

EEEWWWWWWWWWW. Eww eww ewww eww ewww.

Eww.

Something terrible just happened to me. I am at this very moment still writhing around trying to shake the memory from my body, experiencing phantom tickles, and TOTALLY FREAKED OUT!

I'm just gonna tell you now at no point did I think I was going to die, or even be seriously injured. That does not, however, change the severity of the situation in any way as far as I'm concerned. I don't know how I'll ever be able to sleep again with such a debilitating case of the heebie-jeebies. Eeeewwwww.

After hanging my clothes to dry on my balcony --problem free-- for four months, I wasn't prepared for any hiccups in the process. Today I pulled my jeans off the rack and onto my body thinking nothing of it. Like, why would I? Right away I'm off, walking to grab some food, and I get this weird feeling near the left-jean-pocket-meets-crotch area. Kinda tickles a bit, like the vibration of a phone when you're not expecting it. Obvious first thing I check: cell phone. No call. So, hmm, well, it was subtle, maybe just a shift in the leg, and who knows, maybe I'm a freak so I let it go.

Sit down to dinner, and I can't shake the idea that I can still feel something, but it definitely seems to have relocated to the right pant leg. Still, subtle, almost imperceptible. I must be crazy.

[Sometimes my skin gets irritated by laundry detergent first wear after going through the wash. I assumed this was nothing more than an unusual case, and thus chocked it up to my likely insanity]

Get home, sit down in bed and put my hand on top of my jeans without considering the possible consequences of my actions. Oh, excuse me. And what's that, lurking underneath my hand???????????????

A bump. AND IT'S MOVING.

Oh my gosh to the gosh I had those pants off like lightening. Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Shaking around and hollering in my room like nobody's business. Writhing about and such. Not wanting to look at the evil culprit, but forcing myself to do so because allowing it to run amuck was simply no option.

What was it???? No idea. All black. Looked like a mix between a giant stink bug and small beetle. Certainly not something I wanted crawling around in my pantaloons, especially so close to my special area (sry grandma, still love you, but for real this messed me up).

And then, after making this horrifying discovery, I couldn't just walk away from the situation (aka run screaming in the opposite direction, arms flailing about wildly), as I desperately wanted to do. No No. I had to deal with it! Keeping this creepy crawler from reeking havoc in my happy little life was priority status. It could not wander off into my apartment. Hell to the no!

It moved like molasses (luckily for me) so I was able to release some of the hysteria before picking up my pants and taking them outside, where I managed to stand in broad daylight in nothing but my underwear for more than 2 minutes. Smooth. I did, after very careful searching, locate my new personal enemy and flick him into the wind and out of my life forever. Whew. It was almost more than I could handle.

I really really needed to be able to yell for my dad, see him come running, eyes rolled so far in the back of his head they almost disappear, blatantly making fun of me and my aversion to bugs. But then, while mocking me shamelessly, remove the creature from my presence. Of course while saying something like You know, when you are living on your own, no ones gonna be there to come kill these bugs for you. How will you survive??? Maybe you should start practicing now. And then I would spit out a half choke/half laugh because we both know that ain't gonna happen.

And I couldn't have it. I guess that's what I get for living in Thailand. So Dad, will you come to College Station and squash my crazy killer bugs before they eat me alive if I call? Yesss???? Oh, thanks so much! Love you too.

I guess I will survive on my own until then. Here is the closest thing I could find on google images to the bug in question, but he wasn't exactly like this guy either:

Take Me to Your Heat

2010-02-22T22:39:00.015+07:00

I know what you're thinking. My sweet little J-Dizzle, don't you remember?? Your blog is stamped with a PG rating. And very rarely, for extenuating circumstances only, PG-13. Okay, and R, just once! But an X-rating, good heavens, never in my wildest! This better not be going where I think it is.

Rest assured, it is not. Before I tell you anymore I'm just gonna show you. Check it:

Even now, this is seriously crackin' me up. I saw the girl as she was writing, and it took me an embarrassing amount of time to sort out the meaning, gather my composure, and not laugh out loud in hysterics at her mistake. It was a lot for me, but I didn't want to humiliate her so I pulled it together.

What she meant to say was "Take me to your heart." And yes, even though that's still totally a little awkward, I am confident her intentions were pure. It was however, without a doubt, the sole reason for my taking 10+ photos of the board when it normally would have been two. I Could Not get over it.

A couple more blog-worthy love notes:

I love you, I HOPE to miss you. Umm, thanks kid. You COULD be really sweet?!

You is big memories for me. I will remember you anytime.

Man, I am so glad everything we've been working on all year has really resonated with the students (dripping with sarcasm, I'm sure you got it). Good try, James, but not quite. How about: U ARE big memories 4 me. I will remember you anytime. There, much better.

Okay, yeah, I'm poking a little fun. Maybe not the nicest thing to do. So I'll go ahead and karma myself up real good by saying they are just the sweetest little kiddos in the whole wide world (not dripping with sarcasm, promise). I genuinely appreciated the thought, and will never forget it. Take that karma. A Chuck Norris round-kick to the face if I ever saw one.

Some office teacher pics I think are fun.

Tee hee. What's going on here? We'll never know, but it must have been exciting.

I'm gonna have to frame this one. Kind of loves it.

Could you imagine your HS teachers getting together and throwing up the peace sign?? The answer is No, you could not. It's grown on me though :)

A Higher Education Isn't Worth the Investment. ShilaWHAT?!

2010-02-22T17:00:00.044+07:00

I've decided to go to graduate school. What What! So I'm sitting here, feet propped up, patting myself on the back and feeling all warm and cozy on the inside, super happy with my new life decision. And then I read stuff like this:

Today, I realized that the only things I gained from my masters programs are more debt and the knowledge that you can use a semicolon in a list. FML

You'll have to excuse me for as second as I step over into cliché-ville, but what is this world coming to when the cost of education outweighs the benefits?? Yesh. If I enroll at Texas A&M, my top choice, I'm looking at almost $9000 a semester in tuition alone (who am I kidding, I mean my parents are looking at $9000 a semester). And I'm so sure the financial department would be comfortable negotiating a deal in baht. Sure thing,

Ms. Whatsyournameagain?, that sounds like an excellent plan. We'd be more than happy to accommodate you and your monopoly money. NOT!

Back to the point. How is this even possible? People are not considering graduate school because the likelihood of ever finding yourself blissfully debt free upon completion is ZERO PERCENT. This is terrible, but it's a reality. If you have to take out loans, you, dear friend, are screwed. Check this out.

You think, I'm going to be a doctor. I'll hit you back, awesome bank who is more than willing to put 10s of thousands in my pocket today. You're a real friend. No worries; we'll cross that old interest bridge when we get there. Umm, bad idea. According to wiki, the average debt of a medical student in 2009 was $154,067!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! No, doctor. Even with your salary, that is no easy task.

I am kind of in the clear on this as I'll be taking out a loan from the Bank-O-MomandPop. Interest free, bless their souls. I believe payback is not only possible, but an absolute. Otherwise, a life of continued education would not be in the cards for me. No way am I going to put myself in debt for the rest of my days when I have ohh, I don't know, $12 whole dollars to my name. Stellar. These twelve big ones put me at ideal candidacy for a loan. Here's a little post-masters speech I've prepared in advance for the generous bank willing to work with me: Thanks for your help, bloodsuckers. Here's everything important in my life, and now I'll be on my way to sleeping in the streets. I am so lucky you were able to help me get through school, though. Totes worth it. Muah.

With the Bank-O-MomandPop on the other hand, I won't have to pull the plug on my phone and hide under the covers for weeks, avoiding my debt collection agency at the ripe old age of 31. No thank you, kind sir.

The potential A&M enrollment is news to you, I know. Don't go gettin yourself in a tizzy now (Chaitlin) or do anything crazy, like disown me as a friend. That won't be necessary. Trust, I am no traitor. My Longhorn Pride runs deep. However, within the state of Texas, A&M is simply my best choice, and I am thrilled to have it. So I'll be (hopefully) sitting over there in Aggieland, sportin burnt orange under my jacket just to spite 'em. And getting a good education just to spite 'em. Hah, you Aggies. Who's the winner now? Huhhh??? Hunnhhhhh??????

You can bet your little bootie come Thanksgiving I'll be decked out in burnt orange and singing The Eyes of Texas. If you ever EVER hear me even think about anything along the lines of T.U., omg shoot me where I stand. Completely unacceptable behavior. Maybe I should get myself a Longhorn tattoo before enrollment. Yes, excellent idea (it's okay Dad, I promise not to do that anytime soon).

And on to ze plan: A Masters in Curriculum, Culture and Instruction starting in the fall of 2011. In the meantime, not so sure. Thailand has yet to be settled, but I'm hoping to book it back stateside. Maybe teach a year, maybe Americorp, or a short stint abroad. Coming soon.

I'll leave you with some friendly rivalry images.

Yes. Sigh. I just might be putting up with these shenanigans on a daily basis. Hmph.

Fan Death. What You Should Know.

2010-02-21T21:54:00.024+07:00

Ahhhhh. It's a fan. And it's ON. So sinister looking, too. Run for your lives!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You don't want to become the next victim of FAN DEATH.

Oh yeah, it's a real thing. (*******Bahhhahahahaaha. No freakin way, man).

I'm gonna take a leap out of Thailand here and bring you back 365 days to my life in the good-ole' Korea.

Those folks have sure got them some interesting urban legends. One in particular I think is worth mentioning (obvs: Fan Death!), but we gotta get through some things first.

Let's start out with the baby stuff: They suffer from Tetraphobia- fear of the number 4. As a result, their elevators simply have an F where the number should be. This makes no sense to me. I get that most Koreans speak English, but isn't it odd that they would chose to use our alphabet? Yes, I think so. It should say 사. Or have just the first symbol (I can't copy them individually, sorry sry). Regardless, this fear originated because the word for four in Korean (sa) is identical to their word for death (in Chinese, very similar as well). Ooooooh. How terrifying. Could you imagine being afraid to use the word deaf because it is so similar to death???? Because that's the same. Oh No! What will happen to us now? Hands on face. Gasp.

More to the point, how does that even happen? When they were getting all that language crap situated back who knows how long ago (LONG), don't you think they would have said, Hey. Why is the number four the same as the word death??? That's just silliness. Let's change it. Well, I think they should have at least.

But I mean, who am I to judge? I come from a country suffering from Triskaidekaphobia. Now that, my friends, seriously gives me the willies. And I am not ashamed to admit it.

Korean Issue 2: The color red. Pretty scary stuff. If I see red, like, I'm going to die. Apparently, in Korea this is the case. Okay, so... not exactly. But they do have a red complex, if you will. Starting after the Korean War, the color became associated with NK communism and the bloodshed of their people (I previously made this part into a joke, compliments of HS teach Dr. Dixon, that old crazy coot. But I shouldn't have. I apologize, and am officially taking it back). Naturally, not pleasant to contemplate. But they have taken it to an extreme. The only examples I can offer are: 1) instead of having a red line on the subway, they have like 3 different shades of blue, and 2) if I wrote any name at school in red pen, My Buddha was the world coming to an end.

Out with the serious and onto the ridiculous. It's time for the big guns ladies and gentleman. The show stealer itself. FAN DEATH.

Many Koreans truly believe they can be killed by a fan. Yes! I know! How crazy-mo-frazy is that?! And not in a if the fan were to break loose from the ceiling and fall on my head in the middle of the night, it might kill me kind of way. No-hoo-hooo. Like this:

Fan death is a South Korean urban legend which states that an electric fan, if left running overnight in a closed room, can cause the death of those inside.

Stolen straight from wiki, and I couldn't have said it better myself. This is so amazingly absurd I cannot accurately describe to what degree of seriousness this is taken. Real serious. When I moved there, I was warned about this potentially fatal incident by several people.

Hi Jacqueline, it's so good to have you here. Be careful in your apartment. Always watch out for fan death.

They are concerned about suffocation, by a vortex created when the fan is in a closed space. Suffocation by a vortex!!!!! OR, possibly it's that the fan "chops up" (wiki) the oxygen in the room until the inhabitants can no longer breath.

Fans actually come with timers so they will turn themselves off before any of these travesties have the chance to occur. Now I'm not sure if people genuinely live their lives in fear of suffocation by house fan, or if it's more along the lines of us knowing that if we say bloody mary three times in front of a bathroom mirror in the dead of night while simultaneously spinning around in circles, someone will not, in fact, come out of the mirror and kill us where we stand. But we still wouldn't do it. I have to say, even though I'm hopeful it's the latter, I'm more inclined to believe scenario numero uno.

It's just too ridiculous. I can't even discuss it anymore. If you want to read further, you'll have click here. I have to stop this madness.

Glittery Pancakes

2010-02-20T08:54:00.008+07:00

While it is still totally possible I will be coming back to Thailand, I have decided to prepare myself for the idea of moving home to stay, as that is the likely outcome at this point.

Instead of blogging about why wearing these pants in public does not make me batcrap crazy, I'll be blogging about much more relatable topics. Like the possibility of going to graduate school at Texas A&M (betcha' didn't see that one coming). And how it is so weird to be swimming in a bathing suit again (not so relatable, but go with me on this). And my most favorite flavor of Baskin Robbins Ice Cream (of course, I will have to taste them all to make an informed decision. Ohh, the sacrifices). And how much money I do not have to succeed in life. You know, the usual.

Welcome to the transition period.

I just want to make it clear that I did, in fact, wear these pants out in the world today. Like, for reals. Can you even tell if this is the front or the back? Talk about flatt-errrr-ing. I actually paid money for these puppies. What was I thinking? I can't believe it. What the What am I going to do with my beautiful baby blues back in the Lone Star State? Take a good look, cuz this is the one and only time you'll catch me in these most-stylish pantaloons. Obviously, I'll have to give them up to the likes of Heidi Klum when I'm back stateside. I am just too fashion-forward for my own good over here.

Last night, while out commemorating our final day of work (**possible final day for me**), the most gloriously original phrase slipped itself out of my mouth before I even realized how truly amazing it was. Wow, that sounds as good as a boatload of glittery pancakes. Boom. Roasted. And that's the story there. Feel free to use the new lingo in any situation you deem worthy. I mean, what could be better than a glittery pancake? Ummmm, nothing. You got glitter. You got pancakes. Quite the rockin' combo. If nothing else, at least 14-year-old girls will like it, and what a demographic to impress.

Moving on. There are some things I'm getting really geared up for back home. Other than DUH! family and friends, the biggest at this precise moment is access to a kitchen. That just sounds too remarkable for words. I have a couple friends who blog about their culinary experiences and offer up recipes. While under normal circumstances this is all good and well, for now it just makes me bitter and hungry. Not for long, amigas. I am soooo feeling that in T-minus 5 weeks.

Even better, when I'm not in the mood to craft a kitchen masterpiece (or can't... Who am I kidding; I haven't cooked a thing other than spaghetti since September 2008), I can make deliciously bad filler food. Like frozen pizza. And queso and guac. And raw cookie dough to eat right out of the bowl. Man, the good life is a waitin'.

------

Okay, okay. Stepping back into Thailand-mode, I wanted to let you know in the month of February I spent not one, but two Saturday nights complete without fan or A/C. I know you can't quite imagine the implications of this as you have just gotten through snowpocalypse and/or are in the middle of the coldest winter in the history of man (Fact), but let me tell you it was like death. Not a quick and painless death, but a long, drawn out, How is it possible to drown while still on fire? kind of death. Hotttttttttttttt. Example: today's high is 88 degrees, with a humidity level of 94%. I'll repeat. Hottttttttt. After about 2 hours of attempted sleep in this nightmare, I walked out of the building into the middle of the street at three in the morning. Umm, excuse me crazy lady, not the safest idea you've ever had. I booked it back upstairs after realizing that genius of a plan was going nowhere, fast. Next was an attempt to sleep outside on the patio floor. No go. It was even hotter; unbelievable, I know. At least the bed was elevated to window level and once in a blue moon a trickle of air flow would make its way across my body, bringing with it a wonderful three seconds of relief.

After considering sleeping in the hallway for a total of 30 seconds, I realized this was an equally poor decision. What? Like, am I homeless? I'm sure that's what people would assume as they came out of their rooms in the morning to find a single farang girl sleeping on the floor in her clothes. So, I put my big girl pants on and suffered through like a champ.

This little tid-bit brings me to something else I am soooo excited to have upon return to good ole' Texas, I have literally dreamt about it: AIR CONDITIONING. Yes, I know it will be March, and probably still cool after this hectic and insane winter weather. I also know I have air conditioning in my apartment now, but that doesn't phase me for a second. The anticipation of total access to freezing my buns off in the dead of summer because people refuse to leave their establishments at a normal temperature is killing me. I am all about this.

Leaving Thailand A Skinny-Mini, Coming Home A Chunky-Monkey

2010-02-18T21:17:00.006+07:00

Yes, it's true. That's exactly how it's going to happen.

Hunh??? Why? How will you possible gain weight on your 1853 hour flight? No, I don't believe it.

I won't be putting on the pounds in the air. I'll be putting them on beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeecause, I'm going to Italy!!!!!!!!!!

OOOOOOOOOOooooo. Way Pumped.

I'm meeting my mother in ROME on the seventh of March. Oh my baby jesus this is exciting news. I'm gonna say this having never been anywhere in Europe, but Italia really speaks to me. I can feel it all the way from Thailand, just calling out my name. I know the two of us are going to have a solid, mutually beneficial relationship. And I cannot flippin' wait.

It just has everything I could ever desire all bundled into one sweet little, boot-shaped package deal. The list goes: architecture, landscape and history. So psyched. Plussss, and oh my gosh what a plus. THE FOOD! I'm so all over it.

We will be there almost three weeks. Ahhh-freakin-mazing. I am thrilled at my mom's openness and willingness to try new things. We are tentatively planning Rome --> Florence --> Venice --> Sicily, all by public transport. But we're open, not putting any plans on the lock-down, which is obviously the best way to travel (my opinion, yes; but in this case, also fact). If we want to stay somewhere longer, then we stay. Easy peasy.

Also exciting, I am flying Singapore Air. Baller status right there, as it is only one of the six 5-star airlines in the entire world (Asiana, my other 5-star experience, came equipped with cashmere blankets and a steak dinner. Ahhhh, que magnifique). And, I get a layover in Singapore itself, which is sweet sauce. As a city, it seems too clean, straight-laced and without culture to warrant an entire trip, but I am just tickled pink to have the time to grab a bite, a tiger beer, and stroll about a bit. Perfect. And just maybe, that city will prove me wrong. You never know. I promise to keep an open mind.

From Rome back to Big Tex, my mom and I scored tix on the same flight. Again, sweet sauce. We'll be flying British Airways (4-star) with a stop-over in London just long enough to ride into the city and grab some grub. For us, we truly have the ideal air-travel plan (unless of course they could get us home in 2 hours, a definite trump card), not to mention the ideal regular-travel plan. We are makin' it happen.

I'ma take you back up top here for a sec and discuss my weight. I love Thailand, but it does a number on my health. It's too hot, and the food is too spicy. I can't eat properly (because I don't have enough cheese products. Obvs...), and I cannot seem to maintain a normal weight. I don't really see it, and I haven't stepped on a scale since I've been here, but the pants I had altered in November are again much too big. This is one of the few downsides of my life here, but I haven't been able to get it under control. Italia and Foood Food Food Food Fooooood will be soooooo good for me. I cannot CANNOT wait.

Got It

2010-02-18T17:11:00.015+07:00

Today, I got exactly what I needed. Closure.

Phew. I am so relieved. Now, regardless of where I end up these next few months, I can leave Thailand in peace (If I do in fact end up leaving for good; everything is still up in the air at this point). Pretty excited about this.

Thursdays are a bit off for me, because I have a class after school. I have no idea how or why this happened, but I stay with my kids (the ones who show) for an hour after everyone has left. In effect, I have two last classes of the day. The official, and then the crazy after-hours.

Today, these end-of-the-day chitlins did me proud.

Regular Last Period: We took our pictures and I said thanks and goodbye, waving them out the door, but nobody moved. They all just sat there, savoring their last moments with me. I mean, that's really what they were doing. Oh-My-Gosh, it was so touching. Then, they sang me a song. I didn't understand a word, but who cares. That is bomb. Several of them started crying. Many of the girls came up for hugs and the boys to shake my hand. Afterwards they just kind of stood around looking at each other and at me. This went on in total for about 10 minutes, making me incredibly late to my extra class. But I mean, so what. It was just so sweet and personal.

And just like that I had everything I needed from Thailand. Living here has been such an important phase in my life, too important for me to let it slip away without paying the respect it deserves. I needed to know that my feelings were reciprocated in some way, and I saw it in my kids this afternoon. The huge stress bubble that has been hanging over my head, making a situation that should be very meaningful so difficult to manage, popped, and I could feel the tension start to release.

And then, it happened again. With my late late class. This, I truly could not believe, as they are always itching to get out and go home (understandably, as am I). With this one, all of the emotion draining from body completely disappeared, to be replaced with nothing but contentment.

It was so unexpected to all of a sudden find myself in a good place. At peace. It's wonderful.

Although most of my other farewells have been sweet, none hit me like these two. This, my friends, is where it's at.

I got so lucky with my school, as my situation is not the norm for Thailand (or anywhere, for that matter). It's exceptional. Coming back for a second semester was the best thing I could have done for myself. These people and this place will forever hold a special place in my heart.

----- Okay okay. Sappy, Miss You, Sob Stories finished. Time for me to get with the program. It was a good thing, and now I can dry up the tears (yeah, I cried), and enjoy the hell out of my time remaining, however long that may be. Done and Done. -----

The Goodbye Approach

2010-02-16T16:41:00.013+07:00

To stay or not to stay. I have no idea.

Quick re-cap: I am locked in to teaching another semester at my school if they resign with my company, and I have given them until the end of February to make it official.

AKA -- my personal deadline for re-commitment is after my last day of school. Now, when the kids ask if I'm leaving, I have absolutely no idea what to say. Uhhhh, maybe?! Kind of a real bummer. I love it here, and if I'm not coming back I want a proper farewell. For me, it would be the equivalent of graduating from college and never saying goodbye to anyone. Just walking away. Totally not acceptable. I need the closure for such a big part of my life. It's simply too important.

I have decided to go forth 100% with the mentality that I'll be heading home to stay. I want to make my peace with Thailand, not just all of a sudden be gone, never to return. I couldn't handle that. I would have to fly back here to see everyone one last time. You know, really do things right. Flying again kind of sort of completely defeats the purpose, and isn't an option. I also believe at this point it is so much more likely I will not be returning.

Remember Flo, the English Dept Head? She seems to think completing the contract this month will be no problemo. I have received repeated reassurance from her all is A-okay. Reality check here. This is Thailand. Nothing ever Ever EVER happens in a timely fashion. Never Ever. This process should have started two weeks ago but company and school have yet to meet. End of the month, my fanny. I'll believe it when I see it.

I was really messed up (overwhelmed) about the whole ordeal for a couple weeks, but have gotten myself in a good place with teaching here a third semester. I have learned so much this year and would be a better teacher, which makes me really happy (hah, I'm cool). It would be great for me and for the kids, obviously a super fantastical option.

Basically, I will look like a mini-fool if I return. Hey guys! Sooo great to see you! Yeah, I remember all those photos and sad, sincere goodbyes. I remember the cards and gifts. That was so sweet. I'mmmmm Baaccckkkkkkkkk!

It is worth the risk at this point. Updates to come as I have them. For now, I'll keep waiting, waiting waiting. And taking ridiculously awesome photos of my ridiculously awesome students, like this guy.

Okay so I had to add more photos. Even though you don't know these kids, aka the photos are meaningless, get on my page for a sec. Pretend they are your children and you think they are the most adorable creatures you've ever laid eyes on. With me??! Okay, thanks. Now you can look.

This kid clearly takes the cake. I mean, how excited could you be?! Rock on, 14-year-old. Rock on.

It might not be so "teacherly" of me to single out two kids in a class of fifty and say they are my favorites, but I'm gonna' go right ahead and do it. These two will knock your lights out with their awesomeness. And I love them (honestly, I love their entire class, so I feel it is okay for me to focus on just the two for a sec). On the left, that's Jo. He reminds me of my nephew Jacob like you wouldn't believe. By default, I love him. And then, there's Bot. Even with his eyes closed I know you can see what a cutie-pie he is. I have Bot to thank for turning this class around and making them love me. And listen to me. Ahhh-mazing. He is in it to win it. Love him.

Hygiene Is Merely A State of Mind

2010-02-16T16:40:00.010+07:00

Okay, don't freak out on me. I recognize the importance of staying clean, and I dig it. I mean, of course. However, sometimes in Thailand, I'd rather risk it with my own bacteria than take the chance of picking up someone else's. As a result, I didn't shower or use the bathroom over teacher weekend 2k10.

Woah there. What the friggity frik? No shower? No bathroom?

Yeah, it's true. From 10 pm Friday night to 11 pm Sunday, there was no shower for me, and I used a bathroom only twice (I apologize if this level of personal information is too much for you, I'm really hoping you can handle it). And no, I didn't drink a lot. Not more than a bottle of water the entire weekend. Honest. Dad, please don't kill me for this confession, most of the time I am very good!!! But I mean, it's no wonder living in Thailand has messed up my body, as these habits are clearly unhealthy. Regardless, when I need to, I just shut it down over here.

I have done so for long-term bus rides and international flights on several occasions, but my reasons this weekend were a little different. For starters, there were 60 people sharing four bathrooms, and in any country that would be enough to deter me from use if at all possible. Buuttttttt here, the shower and commode occupy the same space, making it a double whammy. These stalls were small, too. Teeny tiny (maybe 3 ft x 3 ft)! The shower head was directly over the toilet, and that just wasn't going to cut it for me. So I skipped the process entirely. I swam in the river twice, and both times someone pointed me, along with everyone else, in the direction of a shower afterwards. I of course nodded politely as though I were headed that way, but instead breezed stealthy past hoping no one would be the wiser.

After two river swims and no A/C, it's kind of hard to look your finest, and I am pretty sure they were on to my game. My rockin' hair style that managed to stay in place without any assistance from a rubber band, bumpit, scrunchie or anything else of equal cool-point status was a definite clue.

I imagine their personal dialogue while looking me over was something along the lines of, What is this farang thinking? There are showers available. Does she realize? She would feel so much better if she was clean. Look at her hair, it would be so much prettier.

While my internal monologue, on the other hand, went more like I can't believe she is going to shower, again. Doesn't she feel disgusting walking in there after so many people have used it??! And it is impossible to stand without touching the commode. G-ross, lady. Just wait a day.

In this situation, looks like we are just going to have to agree to disagree.

History is Cool.

2010-02-10T23:55:00.011+07:00

Visiting the Bridge over River Kwai is in competition for my most favorite moment in Thailand (along with the first time I saw the royal palace at night). So, it's pretty big stuff.

You never know how you're going to feel about something or if it will affect you until you're actually there. I for sure thought BoRK was worth visiting, but I had no idea how high it would rank. This, for me, was the freaking bee's knees. It took my breath away, and I focused all my energy on taking in everything the bridge had to offer.

Allow me to interject with a brief list of other moments (places) in my life when I was filled with wonder and awe: Red Rock (Nevada), Manhattan, The Grand Canyon, Yosemite, SF hiking.

Very rarely does something unnatural take this kind of hold on me, but I was captivated. Hooked. The story became immediately real. For me, this was more powerful than The Great Wall of China or Angkor Wat (I realize this may make me crazy and is not the norm, but it doesn't make it less true).

If you already know, it is certainly not my intent to insult your intelligence, but I was really moved by the history behind the bridge, so I'm gonna' share.

During WWII the Japanese were in Thailand and needed a way to move men and supplies to Burma, where they were fighting the British. They used Asian laborers and POWs (Australian, British and Dutch) to build what is now referred to as the Death Railway, among other things. The men worked under appalling conditions, and 1000s did not survive. Today in Kanchanaburi there are museums and two war cemeteries. I only wish I had more time to look at everything up close. It was just so powerful to be there.

The bridge itself was brought over from Java, Indonesia, and became a hot-spot for bombing. It had to be rebuilt to its current state after the war. Offering nothing more than the railroad track itself, walking across seemed, umm, perilous. With so much pedestrian traffic, someone could definitely fall if they weren't careful. This heightened the experience without a doubt. It was just so honest and true, as opposed to many things we are used to seeing where the original is lost behind caution ropes and plexiglas. No No. Here, you're really in it.

If you want to read a bit more, here is a good link. And here is the wiki, also good, and even more specific.

Looking forward, you are seeing the restored version of the bridge. Directly to the left and right is the original, with the rounded sides, as opposed to the square edges on the new section.

A map of the Thai-Burma Railway (the arrow shows my location) and some old-school photos.

He Has A Broken Face

2010-02-10T23:53:00.014+07:00

I know you've already seen this pic, but here it is again just in case you forgot. Meet Mr. Prasong, a drunk.

Here he is, keeping it classy.

Mr. P comes to school reeking of alcohol, and his English is good enough for him to talk in detail about his hangovers. Again, classy.

He has never been a problem for me, because A) he isn't around much at school, and B) he clearly favors Lia. Well, Lia wasn't there, and apparently my casual, off-work look was more appealing to him. He couldn't contain himself. After he had asked to shake my hand and I agreed over 10 times, I finally started to refuse. The thing is, it's a sticky situation because he is a man, a director, and I'm in Thailand. I'm not exactly sure of the appropriate response, and since I know he may be annoying but isn't actually going to hurt me, I didn't want to offend their culture by telling him to buzz off.

His hand shake obsession comes from the Thai obsession with scent. Instead of kissing, they sniff. They will ask to shake your hand and then smell it, getting a lot more than I ever meant to give from the ordeal. This is not always the case, for sure, but with him it was.

A group of us were sitting at the table and he walks up, just staring at me. Literally, everyone is talking, I am kind of blending into the background, and he stops and ogles me shamelessly. Awkward much?! And, I'm a little peeved because I have had two hard core babysitters throughout the trip who have all of a sudden deserted my cause. Now I want you to stand up for me, why aren't you saying anything (because he is a man and their superior, that's why)?? He asks me to shake his hand and dance, which pisses me off because there are only like 10 people around watching the situation unfold, and I politely declined. Burn.

He felt the burn, and according to the teachers, He had a broken face. Huh? Broken Face! Broken Face! Finally, I discovered they meant that I shamed him. Not quite sure if I had just committed an irreparable faux pas, I discussed it on the hush hush with Madam.

Me: Psst. Was it okay for me to turn him down? Should I go shake his hand and dance with him?

Madam: It's okay. He is eve.

What? Eve?? I went ahead and assumed it was short for evil, and umm, loved it. Who knew she was hip to the modern abbrev- lingo.

This is quite a lead in, but Thais say all kinds of things along these lines that make perfect sense to them, and we don't have a friggin' clue what they mean.

The other big one of the weekend was Sun stand up, like a man no hair. In the morning the teachers repeated this over and over, cracking up laughing. I was laughing as well, pretending to have a clue, when one of them asked me point blank if I understood.

In my head I was debating how to respond as my immediate and honest answer would have been Uhhhh, abso-freakin-lutely not. I am laughing to blend in with this ridiculousness, and avoid the line of questioning you have just begun. Damn.

I went with, Uhhhh, A little.

This wasn't satisfying enough, and I was questioned further, which is so unusual. Are you able to follow the conversation? Do native speakers understand? Me, having already crossed over into Oh No Oh No Oh No, how did we possibly get to this topic? tried to put out the fire with Uhhhhh, I understand, but I live here. It's hard to say if others would follow (not hard at all, never in a million years would you know what was going on).

Man, quite an uncomfortable 5 minutes of my life. I was completely surprised the question ever came up, as it is certainly unusual to discuss in that manner, but the bottom line is, in general, the quality of English here is very poor. On the other hand, all countries have their own mixed and jumbled version of English-speak, so it's not really fair to be singling out Thailand. I just see it more because I'm here more.

And on that note, the need for English here is different than other countries. In general, spanning no further than for basic tourism purposes, as opposed to Korea, where they were fierce. Learning English as if their lives depended on it, all those kiddos wanted to leave their home country and go to college in England or the US. They were getting outta dodge, and English was option primo. Obviously, to be successful, their skills would have to be superb. Here, after learning How can I help you, and You are very beautiful, you are mostly set when it comes to pleasing the tourists. No one in Thailand wants to move away and never come back. Which is really pretty cool, since they like their country enough to be happy with it.

The follow up:

- Sun stand up, like a man no hair means sunrise, and they are comparing the sun to a bald man. Did you follow? I certainly needed to be told.

- I've since found out the teachers were so not okay with Mr. P's actions over the weekend as far as I was concerned, which made me feel a lot less crazy. They were disgusted actually, and I was glad to hear it.

Kanchanaburi. Pt 2.

2010-02-10T22:52:00.034+07:00

Kinda forgot to mention the teacher weekend was spent in Kanchanaburi. As this means absolutely nothing to you, I'm hoping you'll let it slide. Thanks in advance for your cooperation.

What should have been a 5 hour bus ride, of course, was much longer. About 8 hrs getting there and 11 coming back. We stopped, and stopped and stopped and stopped. All in good fun though (and exhaustion).

Day 2 was devoted to sunrise walks and kayaking, "bamboo rafting" to an "island", more swimming and karaoke, visiting the "Hollywood of Thailand", and The Bridge over River Kwai. All quotes necessary, as none of these things were anywhere near what they claimed them to be.

Solid proof of my second sunrise.

This was somewhere in the neighborhood of 6:30 in the morning. Getting Madam into the kayak was one of the cutest things I've ever seen. There was about a 2 second period where I was genuinely worried about her, but mostly we were just cracking up laughing. She was sooooo scared by the process of situating herself and getting the kayak away from the dock. She said it scared her because it was so small, so at anytime she could just plop right into the river. I could visibly see her fear of bumping into the dock. Once they were about 5 feet away, and she felt confident she wasn't going to helplessly float underneath and get trapped, she just thought it was the most hysterical thing in the world. Good times.

Okay. On to the "bamboo raft" experience. What they really meant was "raft with a few pieces of bamboo on the sides for decoration" experience.

What I imagined:

My reality:

Now let's play Where's the Bamboo? I mean seriously, people. I am still down to hop on some random-ass wooden raft pulled by another random-ass wooden motorized raft, because who cares. I'm sure it's fun. But don't be calling it bamboo. Not even close. See the clump of trees in the top left-hand corner? Did you guess? Yeah-o. The island. I was at one point told we would be exploring said island, but at merely 100 yards in diameter, why would you bother? I'm positive its sole purpose was to provide stability for the raft, as my fellow adventurers couldn't have possibly gotten in and out of the water without the added support. And, go ahead and take a moment to notice the gambling. They just couldn't help themselves.

I know I'm working out of order here, but I had to do it. Do those eyeglasses look strangely familiar to you? Yes, they do. Because they look exactly like mine. Tee hee.

I got Madam in the early morning hat get-up, had to get Pi Ow. Awesome. Not sure if I've ever explained this but "Pi" is used in Thai when addressing someone older than you, and it is a sign of respect. Madam is different, because she was a french teacher for many years, and picked up the second nickname as a result. Her Thai name is actually Pi Na.

Alright, back to the raft. Those of us non-gamblers threw caution to the wind and took a dip in the River Kwai. I have no idea the degree of stupidity I had reached when determining it was a in my best interest to jump into this particular body of water, but so far I am alive and well. 5 days later and still going strong, so I'm just gonna' assume it's all okay and I will NOT be randomly overtaken by deadly bacteria in the next couple weeks. I certainly considered this consequence when I was there, though.

Madam and I after swimming. You'll notice that we are sitting on the bamboo section of the raft, and that her eyes are closed, which is due to the intense brightness of the sun. She, however, along with the general Thai population, simply does not wear sunglasses. Ever. I have seen them on a few kids in their late teens, but it is most definitely a result of western influence. Like the ability to swim, eye protection is simply something they need. And they don't have it. Ouch!

So now you've seen the photo and I know what you're thinking. All that showing off, swimmer extraordinaire, and here I am with a life jacket of my very own. Do not be fooled. To avoid a potentially uncomfortable wet t-shirt, wet body situation I wore one while on the raft. More than necessary.

With some of the younger teachers, who I didn't know at all before this trip. They were really interested in me, wanting to take photos and ask me all kinds of questions. They didn't speak much english at all, so we spent our time together just staring and smiling awkwardly at one another.

Moving on. The first stop on what I believed to be our direct journey home (idiot) was the Thai Film Studio in Kanchanaburi. The Hollywood of Thailand if you will. At school, we have a lot of students named Film (yes, weird) and they all pronounce it Feem. I never understood why until this weekend. Thais simply can't say film correctly. The teachers were all talking about the Feem Studio, and I had absolutely no idea what I was getting myself into. When we arrived, it all came together in a flash. Ahhh hah. You just can't say that L. Got it.

By this point in the weekend, exhaustion was a severe understatement for my condition. After waking up at 4:30 on Saturday, going hard all day and falling asleep outside in the heat after 1 am only to be awoken at 5:30 on Sunday, not ever taking a shower and almost never using the bathroom (I'll get to it), and having a paralyzing karaoke experience, I was more than a little messed up. I could barely see straight, much less make decisions or get excited about something.

I was in no mood to hassle. Heck, I was in no mood to move. I was ready for bed, but it wasn't coming anytime soon. The film studio was first. What happened there was a hott Thai mess. I'll keep it short. They wanted me to pay foreigner price. Ummm, hell to the no. I'm not dying out here in this scorching heat, running around with dozens of Thais, and even carrying my work permit for you to class me as a farang. The deal is, work permit = Thai price. That's the deal!!! Honor it.

They wouldn't, and I certainly wasn't going to pay, but I also didn't mind skipping the whole thing and napping instead.

Pi Ow wasn't having any of it. She was tired too, and for whatever reason this just pushed the wrong button. She was livid, and she made it known. Running around finding managers, really creating a fuss. And there I was, my feeble, weary attempts to stop her falling short.

After about 10 minutes of heated discussion and yelling, I paid Thai price and went on an adventure in which I had completely lost interest. But I couldn't say no after there was a brawl on my behalf.

As a result, I got to see some pretty cool stuff, and sweat off three more pounds that I desperately needed to keep.

This was inside some mock-palace. Everything was made of styrofoam, but I would have never guessed had some one not shared that bit with me in English. Mostly, I just lagged behind the group, not understanding a word of the tour or a thing that was happening. I did have some rare explanations here and there, so I learned a little about the ancient history, particularly about the war with Burma, which was sweet.

They are so resilient. In this photo I am leaning up against the wall of a building for support. We're standing here, not because we wanted to, but because our mini-bus had a flat tire. I mean, this is Thailand. Look at them though. They are all laughing. It was really good for me to see. Even more than that, some of them are laughing while in jeans and long-sleeved shirts. I do not understand their fashion choices. It is absolutely not cool enough for that outfit, ma'am.

Me = tired panda. Apparently, the King of Thailand himself has ridden this very elephant. That, my friends, is big stuff.

All of the Buddhas in Bali had long earlobes like this, but I had never seen one in Thailand. I asked, and was told they believe people with long earlobes will have a long life.

Predictions. The Follow Up: Karaoke or Bust.

2010-02-10T18:45:00.019+07:00

A quick re-cap of the original before getting to the goods. As follows:

I ate only one thing I've never tried, and it wasn't fish. Instead, I had a ground pork ball wrapped in some sort of jelly that I would have believed came from a hospital if someone told me so. It was sticky, clear, about a half centimeter thick and had lots of little air bubbles inside that popped when you bit into it. So not for me. Ewwww, texture.

I was confused a lot. Alot. Maybe the most confusing thing was the "bamboo raft", which was just a regular raft with bamboo on the sides for decoration. And we weren't manually paddling as I had imagined, rather, we were being pulled by another raft with an engine. It was a real And why are we doing this? moment. Still fun, but completely confused as to where the entertainment lie.

Didn't miss out on a thing. Boom. Roasted.

Unprepared for the swimming. Why did I bring a bathing suit? Idiot. Luckily, I was able to scrounge up a moderately suitable water outfit (shorts and t-shirt). I left them there, though. Bummer.

And to the performance. The meat of it all. I can't believe their obsession with karaoke slipped my mind. That was incredibly poor planning on my part. I should have come prepared with the perfect song, because no matter how much I didn't want to do it, they were absolutely going to make me.

After politely declining for over 3 hours, I finally caved and agreed to sing one song. And what did they suggest??

Cranberries - Zombie.

Simon and Garfunkel - Bridge Over Troubled Water.

Umm, not even when hell freezes over will I sing those songs karaoke. Are you crazy? And you know I suck right? Because, like, I really suck. Hard.

The only way I could imagine a successful karaoke session is Cameron Diaz, My Best Friend's Wedding -style. You people better clap your asses off and cheer me on like I'm the best thing since sliced bread. Otherwise, I will just die up there.

They were all coming up to me and telling me how excited they were for me to take my turn. They really wanted me to sing a song. They couldn't wait to hear what I picked. Blah blah blah blah I want to die blah.

I strongly dislike karaoke. Honestly, I just don't get it. Singers can really only fall into one of three categories:

1. Hard-core suckage. I mean, no one wants to hear that. It's awful. I didn't come out in public to cover my ears and shrivel down because I'm literally in pain after listening to you sing. I would say this is about 30% of people, and I most definitely fall into this category.

2. I'm amazing. Do you think I'll get a record deal tonight? Yeah, we hear you. We know you can sing. Chill out and stop showing off. I promise no one cares. I find this version of karaoke singer highly HIGHLY annoying. And it's about 65%. Just shut up already.

3. I'm decent enough, but I can't make a living this way. You are the only kind of karaoke I want to hear, but since you come in at about 5% of the karaoke singing population, you're just not enough for me to suffer through the other morons with the mic. I can't take it.

The only exception to my strong karaoke abhorrence was in Korea, where I grew to enjoy an evening spent at a noraebang (singing room), but it was just a couple Americans missing home and singing things like Hurts So Good, Ghostbusters, and Born in the USA. And there was always, always beer involved.

This was so not the same. I wanted to sing something they knew, but you saw their suggestions. So I decided to go for something upbeat. Saturday night it was John Denver Take Me Home. Bust. I don't know a single word outside of the chorus. I don't even know the beat. Ouch; but at least they sang with me, so I was only partially mortified, and I could live with myself.

Sunday was a whole different story. I naively thought my previous performance would put me in the clear for day two. Oohhhhhh, so wrong. They came at me with the same puppy dog eyes and the You're the farang. We would really love it if you sang a song for us. It's so much fun. What would you like to sing? speech. I had nowhere to hide.

I shuffled through my ipod for the perfect tune and came out with Build Me Up Buttercup. I figured even if they didn't know it, they would enjoy the music. What a horrific experience. They were eating, and it was dead quiet. Dead. This is a worst case scenario for me when it comes to singing in front of a group. About 20 seconds into the song my hands and arms started shaking, and I was blushing like crazy. Trying hard not to get myself too flustered to sing. Drunk AD that had been hitting on me shamelessly came up to help me out, and man was I thankful for his presence (the only time), and so did Pi Ow. They didn't know the words so they didn't offer much relief, being good only for the Ooooooh, Ooooooohs. But it was sweet of them to try.

I finished the song and used every ounce of strength to stop my shaking and keep from crying. I knew I wouldn't like it, but I really had no idea it was going to be such a scarring experience. I couldn't talk for nearly 10 minutes afterwards, as I was focusing solely on keeping my composure.

So, that settles that. If the situation were to present itself again, I am just going to have to disappoint the locals and not fall victim to their pleas of Sing, Monkey, Sing!

"Mrs. Blue! I can't swim! I can't swim!!"

2010-02-10T17:28:00.024+07:00

I'm sure there are no more than a handful of you out there who recognize the quote, and by handful I really mean my mother. The rest of you should be ashamed of yourselves, because it comes from none other than the 1993 comedy classic, Undercover Blues. One of my most favorite movies. In fact, I own it and have decided I will be watching it this week. Yesss (Like I actually have the time to watch a movie right now. Or write in my blog for that matter. One can always hope, though). I definitely recommend Netflixing in your near future. You won't regret.

Have you made the assumption there's trouble in the water at some point in the film? If so, you would be right. Kudos. This particular movie moment came to mind on numerous occasions throughout the weekend, because, ummm. No one could swim. Like, for serious. Not even a little bit.

It was so extreme in fact, they passed out life jackets when we were on the boat. In a river. With the shore a maximum distance of 200 yards away. It gets better. They wore them. I was in shock just watching them being handed out, thinking Well, that's a little presumptuous. We're not going so far, and we could definitely make it to shore if there was a problem. It's so close.

My mouth dropped as I saw grown-ass men putting jackets on and completely strapping themselves in (some even had the crotch clasp done. on. the. boat) without the slightest bit of embarrassment or need to defend their machismo. Me = jaw to the floor. Are you freakin' kidding? You should be mortified, you sissy-baby. What does your wife think of this?

She didn't mind, I guarantee you. She was strapped in, too. Crazy crazy crazy. If I am the best swimmer of the bunch, we got real problems. It usually falls on me to tell people I can't swim. I wouldn't have drowned in that river without a life jacket or anything, but I certainly suck at it.

Hahahhaaa. See?? This was the only time I felt that taking a photo was slightly in poor taste, because I knew I was going to use it to expose their secret. The thing is, they aren't phased by it in the slightest. They just can't swim. A little ironic, being that Thailand is one of the hottest international beach destinations. And there is water absolutely everywhere. Whatever happened to throwing the kid in the pool to teach him how to swim? Let's get back to that, guys. There is too much ocean/river/lake around for you not to know.

This, however, was my scene. They were in awe. Never again in my lifetime will I be glorified for my ability to tread water for more than 3 minutes. I have to say I relished the moment, maybe even just a teeny bit too much. But do you blame me? You can all swim laps around my doggy paddling little bootie, so I had to take what I could get.

Them: Here is your life jacket.

Me: No thanks, I'm good.

Them: Oooooh, you can swim?

Me: Nods head and smiles.

Them: She can swim! She can swim! Did you know the foreigner could swim??

And then they watched me stay afloat with the assistance of only my extremities as pure amazement danced around in their pretty little eyes.

Before I get too carried away, I should tell you there was one Thai teacher who could swim. One, out of 60 some-odd people, and they were just as in awe of him. Oooooh, look. He has a kayak. Mr. S can dive. He is swimming!

It was really, really cute to be out there with Pi Ow and Madam in their life jackets, heads bobbing out of the water, calling on me to swim to them so they could get more support. Umm, you do realize you are the one with the floating device, and I'm rockin' solo over here? That didn't seem to phase them, and they were both glad to have the extra protection. So. Very. Cute.

Woah There Culture Shock

2010-02-08T19:09:00.035+07:00

Yeah, I've been living in Thailand for 8 months. And yeah, I'm incredibly comfortable here. And yeah, I like the people and the culture. And yeah, I consider myself well-adjusted. I don't know nothing. This weekend was culture shock to the max.

My time here thus far was mere child's play compared to the weekend I just had. Nothing could have prepared me for a solid 42 hours with a group of 60 Thais. Nothing. It was a lot of fun, but really just so overwhelming.

Before I go any further, I love my Thai teachers, and this experience only made me love them more. Be sure to keep that in mind as you continue reading.

I'm not so big on writing in chronological order, but let's go ahead and start this story at the beginning, with the bus. It leaves at 5 am Saturday morning, so I figure it's safe to assume most passengers, including me, will be sleeping for a majority of the trip. Wrong. It's really not safe to assume anything, ever, in Thailand. And this was sure a good lesson.

Not only was there no sleeping, there were neon lights and blacklight-glowing seats and obnoxiously loud, bumping speakers. and gambling. and drinking. Yes. at 5 am.

Gambling by the sweet glow of neon lights sometime around 5 in the morning. What I mostly didn't get about their obsession was that all of the games they played were based on luck. If I'm going to bet, it's going to be on myself and my ability, not whether a card might randomly be drawn. They certainly didn't seem to mind, as every single second of our 42-hour trip some form of gambling was taking place. Literally, every second. On the bus, on the boat, on the raft. Nothing could stop them.

I put this in mainly so you can see it's 5:16 a.m. and this is what was happening to me. Why do we need these colorful lights again? Why don't you people want to sleep?

My favorite photo of the trip; and my first sunrise of the weekend. Apparently, this is how I roll.

Moving forward. They say rafthouse I say floating dock. From where I was sitting, there was nothing "housey" about it. Okay, it had two rooms. But 90% of it was just out in the open. Not that I minded; I dug it actually, but I never saw anything remotely close to resembling a home. I saw an area set up for people to sing their hearts out until the wee hours of the morning, a place to eat, and a floor on which to sleep. That's pretty much how it went. These fools love karaoke. And that's what they did from 7 pm until after midnight. Don't worry, of course there was still gambling. But imagine, you've been up since 4:30, desperately waiting to go to sleep on the dock, but you can't, because your co-workers are party animals. I mean, they've been up since 4:30 too. How do they do it?

I slept outside because inside without a fan was like death. I thought my body was going to boil from the inside out. It was more than hot. Outside was bearable, and I finally dozed into sleep after 1 am. Much to my surprise, I was awoken by singing and a guitar at 5:20 a.m. 5:20!!!!! What is this? There is definitely nowhere to hide from sound on the dock. It's go time. Up and at 'em. Carpe friggin' diem.

On the plus side, I was delighted to take a pre-dawn walk through the woods with Madam. So again, for the second time in one weekend, I saw the sunrise. I was so not expecting this.

Madam liked this little cottage. This was ohhhh, 6:15 Sunday morning.

The rafthouses.

Sleeping quarters. Originally we were in one of the few rooms, but the second the music stopped I booked it outside with Pi Ow. Madam stayed, and the next morning when I asked her about it, she said whenever she gets too hot or uncomfortable she just prays and she can sleep. No problem. Of all the teachers, I believe she is the most religious. She is always talking about going to the temple and meditation and meeting with the monks. I enjoy listening to her.

Karaoke is what it was all about. This guy, wearing the most awesome outfit ever, is one of our assistant directors. He, along with the majority of other men remained drunk the entire weekend. He was the only one who consistently hit on me though. I'll get to that story later.

The weekend itinerary read as follows: floating market, boat to waterfalls, bamboo raft, film studio and bridge over River Kwai (it's Kwhey in Thai).

Before my second sunrise I had checked "floating market" and waterfalls off the list. The FM was no such thing. I've seen the pictures, I know what's supposed to happen. There should have been boats lining the river preparing and selling food. Something I was genuinely looking forward to. We went to a market beside the river. Not even close to the same, not even in the same ballpark. This was my only disappointment of the trip. What I should have seen is this:

**These were stolen off a random blog. Don't belong to me or anyone I know, but do a good job of showing you what I was expecting. It woulda been sweet. This is just so unusual.**

The waterfalls were super cool. Not so big, but different than any I had ever seen. The water was such a unique shade of blue, and there were so many. I loved it.

Me and my possy. These two were so protective all weekend. It was really cute but kind of unreal. All out of love though, for sure.

Them: Jackie, I'm going to the bathroom, you wait right here.

Me: Umm, I think I'll be okay Madam/Pi Ow. There are 59 other people around us who know me. But thanks very much.

Jumping in Thai-style (in your clothes). They never wear bathing suits, ever. I wouldn't wear one in front of them either and have gotten pretty used to swimming in my clothes. One of the best things about the weekend was getting to see a different side of the teachers. They were there to have fun and let loose, and that they did. Case and point. This is one of the assistant directors, and she is always so professional at school. She just ran right into the falls and started splashing around like a 9 year old. It was really cute to see.

A few swinging branch photos for you:

Tee hee. I love this one. What an expression. And what an outfit.

I recognize three photos of the trip from boat to shore is a bit much, but I thought this was pretty cool. And kind of crazy. So enjoy.

I have a hard time determining what would be perceived as unusual or culturally unique for you now after living here for a bit, so I am curious. Are you thinking to yourself Wow, that's so crazy. I can't believe they walk on such janky boards. Doesn't seem too safe...

Or are you saying, What's the big deal? Same ole' Thailand. What else you got?

I am seriously curious, so tell me. Tell Me! For me, it was a Wow, this is really crazy.

Predictions.

2010-02-05T19:34:00.011+07:00

I'm gonna try this out as my new blog whatchamacallit. A lot of bloggers have a "thing" and I figure I should get me one. Predictions. The Follow-Up will of course be coming next week.

So, without further adieu, my current predictions:

I predict this weekend I will eat at least two things I have never tried or even seen before, one of which will be fishy. I won't be expecting it and it will be hard not to throw up in front of everyone.

I predict this weekend I will be confused as to why I'm doing exactly what I'm doing and wish there was someone present to share my confusion with at least 5 times.

I predict this weekend I will miss out on something we have planned.

I predict this weekend I will be exceptionally unprepared in some form or fashion, as they undoubtedly forgot to mention the important stuff in English.

I predict this weekend I will be asked to perform. Likely to put on a one-woman skit or dance in front of the entire group. I also predict I will decline.

I predict this weekend will be a Thai adventure if I've ever had one. A completely new and different experience, I am sure to say the least.

** In case you aren't clear on my weekend plans, the school has put together a teacher outing. There will be more than 60 of us going, and I am the only foreigner. I am told we'll be checking out the floating market, taking a boat to see waterfalls, sleeping on rafthouses, and riding on bamboo rafts through the River Kwai. Sounds pretty fantastic.**

Guess Who My Awesome Weekend Roomie Is!!

2010-02-04T22:21:00.007+07:00

MADAM.

Shut up. No way. Hah, I am so excited. I can only imagine it will be one of the most interestingly entertaining nights of my life. I am positive I will have a plethora of humorous anecdotes to share upon my return. Plus. I found out today we're not staying on land, pshh. We're staying on a raft. Yeah, I'm not too sure either, but it sounds like nothing less than the perfect adventure.

Whoopsie Daisy...

2010-02-03T21:47:00.008+07:00

Yeah, this is pretty Thailand. I don't want to bore you with the details so I'll keep it to the point as much as possible, but you're going to have to suffer through a bit. Bear with me.

I work for a company, let's call it MK. MK places teachers in schools; the school pays the company and the company pays us. You get it.

Our school decided they no longer wanted to work with MK, which means that even if we wanted to, we couldn't come back. Ahem, I was more than a little offended. I'm sorry, I thought you loved me. WTF.

And now I get it. Our school thought they could have us without MK, which isn't possible. We will most definitely be sued if we do that, as it is against our contract. Our company sucks, and I 100% understand them not wanting to use them again, but they just went and did it without even bringing it to our attention. Talk about shooting yourself in the foot.

When we broke the news to our department head yesterday, let's call her Flo, that we couldn't legally work for Si Racha School anymore, you should have seen the look on her face. Pure devastation. They thought they had it all figured out. Let's ditch this annoying company and keep these amazing, awesome, wonderfully talented teachers. Well, that's a no-go.

How sad though. Turns out they really do love us. According to Flo, parents and students alike both really pushed for us to come back. Not just any foreign teachers. Us. How freaking sweet is that. Ummm, real freaking sweet.

Not only do I love my job and my school and the people I work with on a daily basis, I feel that I have a responsibility to keep foreigners in that school. So, if they will stay with MK, I will come back next semester (don't worry mom, there is only like a 2% chance). I can't just leave these babies out to dry.

America v. Abroad. The Pros and Cons.

2010-02-03T21:44:00.009+07:00

Okay, clearly this is important stuff. I don't want to be hurting anyones feelings with this list, so America, you'd better toughen up. Let's get to it.

The good ole' USofA.

Pros:

1. I'm prettier in America. Yes, I took it there, and yes I'm serious. My skin, my hair and my fashion sense all improve dramatically when I set foot in the land of the free. As superficial as it may sound, it's definitely something to consider.

2. Family and friends. Obvs, and self-explanatory.

3. The dating scene. It's slim pickins over here. Lame.

4. Sometimes it's good to be home.

5. I could start being a grown-up. And yes, for me I think this is a pro. Honestly, what am I doing over here? This isn't how real life works.

Cons:

1. It is expensive. Like woah. Right now I pay about a dollar a meal. Can I really afford to pay $10???

2. The economy sucks. Now, I'm possibly the most confident person you'll ever meet when it comes to my ability to find a job, but can I get the one I want? Or like?

3. Committing to America will make it difficult to live abroad again. Once I buy a car, I'm there. Scary.

4. I have no idea what I would like to do or where I want to live. I have so intelligently narrowed my options down to San Francisco, Manhattan/Brooklyn, Santa Fe, Pheonix, Miami, Texas or anywhere else that might strike my fancy. Yes, I'm honing in on the ideal spot as we speak. It must be San Frahattalynfenixami. We're perfect for each other.

5. My life abroad isn't so relatable to most back home, and it's my entire life. This is annoying. You don't care, and I get it; it's not your life. It's incredibly difficult to just shut it down though. And as I said, annoying.

The world.

Pros:

1. New experiences are always good. I do enjoy learning about a new culture and language. Seeing the differences first hand is so amazing, and I would love to continue that.

2. I could actually start saving some dough. Thus, be a real person when I do finally move back as opposed to the bum I would be now. Being a bum is not a great option for me. I'm proud. I don't want your money.

3. I wouldn't be forced to commit. 6 months here, 4 months there, and fly home in between. Easy peasy.

4. Finding work is cake. As in a piece of. If I choose to stay abroad, I have several solid options.

Cons:

1. I'm about to be 24. It seems kind of ridiculous for me to be running around like this. See "I could start being a grown-up".

2. I know my family misses me. And I miss them. I love them, and want to be a part of their lives, especially the little ones. It feels wrong being so far away and missing out on the opportunity to be a good role model. I'd like that very much.

3. It's not home. I don't know exactly where I will end up or what's gonna' happen in the meantime, but I do recognize it's not a good idea for me to stay away from home for so long. I need to get back there and get refreshed. Let myself soak in the Texas sun and remember why I love it in the first place.

Bali Officially Welcomes You

2010-02-03T21:42:00.005+07:00

To my blog. Hehe.

As you most likely know, I recently went to Bali. I've had a lot of great vacations, but this one definitely ranks top notch.

Bali is just soooooo different, yet very comfortable. For me, this combination is incredibly rare. Actually, a first. It was amazing. Bali is, in its entirety, a tourist hot-spot, so to say I avoided the sight-seeing hubbub wouldn't be entirely accurate, but I did my best. From what I saw of the island, it mostly stayed true to itself. This is such a turn-on in the travel department. I am sure that wouldn't have been the case on the hoppin' beaches of Kuta and Seminyak, but such is life.

I loved every second of it. The people were great. Really great. Their English was better than in Thailand and they were just as friendly and welcoming. They were also more than willing to discuss their culture, politics and history, which was a completely unexpected, but very welcomed, surprise. In Thailand, you will get none of that.

My activity list was second-to-none.

The next several posts are about my 6 day relaxing adventure. Yes, I recognize it's an oxymoron. Doesn't make it any less true. Enjoy :)

Map and Route

2010-02-03T21:35:00.014+07:00

When checking out the map, Bali is kind of a nuisance to find, so I thought I'd help you out. It's so difficult because it's just so freakin' small. 2192 sq miles to be exact. Only a wee bit larger than the state of Rhode Island, coming in at 2000 sq miles. And not even a 100th the size of Texas, which is 268,601 sq miles. So you see, teeny tiny baby fries.

Itty bitty teeny baby Bali. There she is. Really, really far away (from you).

My flight from Bangkok was perfect. At only 4 hours, I found it to be completely manageable.

Getting a little closer.

Above are some details of my stay. Amed is the black sands beach where I snorkeled, Mt. Batur is the volcano, and home base is Ubud. I haven't been able to find the route of my cycling tour, but it was somewhere in the north east. I traveled from Ubud to Amed by motorbike, and that distance took a little over 3 hours one way. It's not very far, but the quality of the roads and lack of options slow everything down a bit.

The traditional tourist hot-spots are mostly just north of the airport in the Kuta area. I didn't see that part of Bali at all, which worked really well for me. I imagine if partying hard is what you're after, that'd be the place to go. Otherwise, get in. Get in. Get. In. The only thing I really had to give up was the national park, which is everything to the northwest. There was simply not enough time to cram it all in, as it always goes..

And All That Jazz

2010-02-03T21:33:00.009+07:00

Everything about Bali I couldn't tell you in a specific segment. Tidbits and extras.

Rice fields right after the rain. One afternoon I took a walk, and this is mostly what I saw. Venturing no more than 3 miles one way, the scenery changed drastically. It was great.

I just wanted to again draw your attention to the whole not entering sacred places while menstruating thing. I mean, is anyone going to check???

A Banyan Tree, from underneath in Monkey Forest, Ubud.

For me, one of the most interesting things about Bali was the look and design of the sculptures and art. It was so vastly different than that of Thailand, and as a result I enjoyed it very much. It felt like such an authentic mix of ancient and modern, and I really loved it. Above is part of the door that led into my guest house, and below is in front of the temple inside my guesthouse. I've never seen anything like this.

The view from my balcony.

In Bali, they practice Hinduism, but I was told by multiple sources it is in fact a relaxed version, somewhat of a mix between the Hinduism of India and Buddhism. There were images of Buddha everywhere, and when I asked about it, they always replied with "Buddhism is our brother".

Hindus do not eat beef, and according to our guide on the cycling tour, in India they would not even raise or sell cattle as a result. Balinese, however, does not see this as a problem. Many people are in the business of cattle and make money by selling the beef to uppity western hotels serving steak.

Over time the Balinese have formed a version of Hinduism uniquely their own. If you want details on their specific brand of Buddha, click here.

Kecak Fire Dance

My last night I finally made it out to a traditional dance, which I was super excited to see. Reading about Ubud I saw over and over that going to a dance was a definite to-do. I was exhausted, and I just barely squeezed it in, but it was so flippin' cool. Absolutely worth it.

The Balinese dances are truly exceptional, and a very important part of the culture. There are several different kinds, the one I saw was a kecak fire dance. They call it "kecak" because of the sound the men make while chanting.

I was so impressed after watching the show, and only later did I discover that this particular dance came to fruition mostly to please the foreign eye. It's tradition began in the 1930s, with the collaboration of a Balinese local and German painter living in Ubud. It was created as fusion entertainment for the westerner of their time "from movements and themes in the traditional sanghyang exorcism ritual..." They did a great job; it's awesome. But, I was a little disappointed to discover it has no historical or cultural relevance.

I found this youtube video, and it does a much better job explaining all the kick-A details than I ever could. There is a story line throughout the performance, but it was nothing I was able to follow when watching. The costumes were extravagant and very beautiful, just watching the performers move in them was one of my favorite parts. They are a bit hard to see here, but you can still enjoy :)

I Got Robbed.

2010-02-02T16:13:00.006+07:00

Nothing tangible, no need to fret. And also nothing to do with Bali. My money and belongings are safe. Instead, I've had time taken right out from under me.

Come to find out on Friday our finals are a week earlier than planned. You'd think (and I'd think) I'd be plum skippy to run around Thailand as I please for an extra week, but really, it's sad. When you only have four weeks left, they are all kinda' critical to planning and whatnot. Now it's just gone. I have only two full weeks left as a teacher here. Seriously, seriously sad panda. I am realizing more and more every day how much I have grown to love this place. The experience has been so different from Korea. I am happy here. I have a great job and life and support system. It's all going and gone, gone, gone.

On the plus side, I have found some significantly more lucrative positions if chillin stateside doesn't work for me.

You Don't Know.

2010-02-01T16:47:00.013+07:00

Or at least, I'm willing to bet you don't know the secrets I'm about to dish.

Well here you go. A little inside information on life in Bali (from the 6-day moderate adventurer).

1. Banana leaf utensils. Before they had plastic on the island, they used banana leaves for everything. Plates, bowls, spoons, straws, etc etc etc. I mean, that would be super cool to experience first of all, but also, the plastic waste is absolutely destroying their ecosystem. It's a real big issue (that's right, real big). Let's solve this problem by using natural resources again, Bali. Come on now. **If you are able to travel there, work your butt off to be as eco-friendly as possible; Bali will not sustain itself at the rate we are going.

2. Watch out where you get your whiskey. It's offered as a greeting in many of the swank hotels, and in that situation I'm sure you're fine. However, on the street- No. No. No. They mix it with methanol, which will kill you sure as the sun comes up. I don't really get this one. How can you make a profit when your product is killing your customers??? Not the best business sense if you ask me, but we were told they do it to try and save a buck. I would advise them to mix it with water, but I guess that's not good enough for the Balinese...

3. Placentas. Umm, yes. Are you aware of the placentas? They don't throw them out, but clean them. And keep them. Every Balinese has a placenta buried near the front porch of their family's compound. Makes you feel all warm and cozy inside, doesn't it? They also don't let their babies touch the ground for three months after they are born as the baby is pure and divine until that point. At three months, it is time "to reach full incarnation of human status" and be named. This site has a poor set-up, but good information if you are interested in further reading.

4. Menstruation. Women are prohibited from visiting several places and doing certain things while on their period. I had read this while researching, but it really hit home when I walked in a temple and a man with broken english said to me, Miss, are you bleeding? I'm sorry, what? Ohhhhhhh, you're serious about the whole period thing, huh. And serious, they were. At the main temples there were signs in english asking you not to enter if you were menstruating. They're lucky I wasn't wearing my hyper-feminist hat and I was able to let this one slide. You gotta' learn to pick your battles, and this definitely wasn't going to be one of mine. So I shut it up, smiled politely and said, No I am not bleeding, but thank you for asking. Tee hee hee.

5. Everyone and their dog has the same name. It pretty much went like this:

Cycling tour: Hi, I'm your guide, Wayan. And I'm your guide, Made (mahd-ee).

Volcano trek: Hi, I'm Made. Let's get moving.

White Water Rafting: Nice to meet you. I'm Wayan. This is Made.

In Balinese culture, everyone is given one of four names, according to birth order. Starting with the first born, it goes: Wayan, Made, Nyoman, and Ketut. If there are more than four children in the family, they simply start over with Wayan on the fifth. This is specific mostly to the island of Bali, and is not prevalent in other areas of Indonesia.

As children they are in fact given other individual names, but without a doubt are referred to predominantly by one of these four. You can read more on wiki if you'd like.

Maybe Not The Most Beautiful Place On Earth...

2010-01-30T00:01:00.012+07:00

But it sure must be close.

Don't misunderstand. I say this only because I haven't seen every place on earth, so I can't really know. I do know I have never been anywhere like it. Bali's beauty is captivating. It's unique, diverse, and it sucks you in. I found myself thinking I could never leave and I would be a better person for it. Everything I ever wanted was right there. And Jesus, was it gorgeous.

If you have the opportunity to go, get in. Don't spend the entire time on the beach, because there is an amazing world waiting for you on the inside. I can't really speak for the beaches or water as I only went to Amed, and it's black sands. Not the same. But I don't regret it even for a second. I do, however, regret not bringing my camera charger, as I missed the opportunity to share some of the most breathtaking sights. I rode on a motorbike for 2 and half hours one way to snorkel, and what I saw of the country in that time was just unbelievable. I don't have anything to show for it.

I have nothing to show of the river rafting scenery, and the only way I can think to accurately describe it is indescribable. Truly magnificent. So mostly, you're gonna' have to take my word for it. I did steal a couple of poor quality photos from google so you can get an idea. It was so much more amazing than either of these portrays. I promise. I was in awe.

I Change My Mind Because of You!

2010-01-29T17:14:00.004+07:00

I know I am messing up my flow by throwing this smack in the middle of Bali, but who cares. You can deal, right?

Remember Madam and her milkshake?

You should most definitely click on the link to see the photo of this wonderful woman who makes me laugh almost every day.

Oh, and btw, she bought new glasses this week that are very similar to mine. Like, almost exactly the same except they have ridiculously awesome (aka just ridiculous) felt flowers on the sides. I can't compete on that level. She has since been saying we are glasses buddies, and I am so okay with this.

Getting to the point, today we found out there is a teacher trip next weekend. They didn't think we would want to go, but I am all over it. It's to an area I've never been before, and I will miss these ladies like crazy when I'm gone, so I want all the time I can get with them. Anyways, I'm in, and this is how it went down.

Me: Oooh, can I go?

Madam: Hahaha, Can I go. You want to go? You want to go? Smiles, starts pointing at me and bouncing around.

Me: Yes, I want to go. Are you going?

Madam: I Change My Mind Because of You! I Change My Mind Because of You! Clapping, pointing and bouncing all around, laughing like crazy, obviously excited.

I mean, how could anyone not miss this?

Would You Like a $33 Cup of Coffee?

2010-01-28T19:17:00.014+07:00

And that's on the cheap.

I'm talking about none other than the most expensive coffee in the entire world, and it comes straight from Bali. In the US, up to $600 a pound. That's of course if you can even find it. Seriously. Expensive. Stuff.

I had it, and let me tell you it is D to the licious. One of the best, if not the absolute best cups of coffee to ever hit my mouth. I don't want to overwhelm you with the best after I've already given you the scariest, and will soon give you the most beautiful. So for now I'll stick to top five of all time. But................. okay I can't help myself. It was the best. No bitterness, nothing added, just perfect. If you stumble across some, pony up the dough and give it a try. It's worth at least knowing, especially if you are a coffee connoisseur. Starbucks ain't got nothing on this bitch.

I wish I could see your face as you take in what I'm about to tell you.

Meet the luwak. This strange little guy lives in Indonesia and enjoys eating cherries. Coffee bean-filled cherries, that is. Get my drift? Not only does he select nothing but the best for himself, the process of digestion chemically changes the make-up of the coffee bean, naturally elevating it to most delectably delectable in all the world. Yep, you have stomach acid to thank for that amazing cup o' jo.

Here's the luwak, going about his business, poo-ing out coffee beans left and right, and then along comes coffee farmer dude, following him around, picking up all the poo in sight. Go ahead, get a mental image.

And then they brush it off and we're foaming at the mouth to get a taste. I mean, people pay exorbitant amounts for this gem. I only paid $3. Bah hah hah. Okay, I won't rub it in too much. It's not as though there are any real winners in this situation. I can't deny I am the one who drank coffee that was poo-ed out of an animal. Mmmm mmm mmmmm.

Dang. What was I thinking?!

Part 2. The luwak continues.

I decided there was no better way to get a group of fifty 14-year-olds' attention than to talk about drinking coffee that came out the backside of an animal. What a success. They ate it up like you wouldn't believe. Oh no, teacher. That's disgusting! Ewwwwwwww. Covering their mouths with their hands, faces displaying shock and disgust.

Hahahahahaha, I loved every second.

Some photos of the coffee experience.

Roastin away. Isn't it cool that this is how they do it? I don't know much about the coffee roasting process (or, I know nothing), but I assume it's not always done by hand. It was soothing to hear and watch.

Luwak coffee beans!!!!

Yeah, I know I've already posted this photo. But now look at it with the knowledge that it's not just any coffee, it's Kopi Luwak baby.

Man, they seriously hopped us up on stimulants before the cycling tour. Everything was free except the Kopi Luwak, which was only three bucks. Quite a steal. Notice the fanny...

Cycling is NOT for Pansies.

2010-01-26T16:26:00.022+07:00

That shiz is hard! Did you know? I had completely forgotten. Maybe because I haven't been on a bike in, oh, about 10 years; except for the one most embarrassing time I attempted to ride 15 blocks in college. Without having to say it, I'm sure you already know it was a complete disaster. And now I remember why.

Even more than the difficulty - it hurts like a mother. The bones in my bootie are not cut out for those seats. We do not mix. Why do people suffer through it?! There are so many less painful ways to get some exercise. Plus, doesn't it make men sterile? Isn't this reason enough? What are you people thinking?

Whew, I needed to get that whining off my chest. And of course, all complaints aside, I'm definitely still glad I did it. The cycling tour was by far the most educational day I had in Bali, and it was a real treat to have such an inside look to the culture and day to day life. I ate it up like cheese (hah! mini random confession - I have a block of cheddar sitting in my fridge and nothing to eat it with, no crackers or whatever, so yesterday I just took a bite out of it. It was gooooo-ood). We cycled downhill most of the time, stopping at a housing compound, rice fields, a wood carving shop and several beautiful places just to snap a couple photos.

First thing in the morning they took us to breakfast at a restaurant with the most amazing view, and then we went on to have coffee and hand-rolled cigarettes. You heard me right. They thought, Hey, what a great idea. Let's get these foreign fools hopped up on ciggies and hard coffee before taking them on a three hour cycling tour. This is brilliant. Needless to say, I couldn't have been more wired. Hands and legs shaking, and I'm supposed to be in control a bike? All's well that ends well I guess, and no catastrophe sounds like a solid day to me.

You wanted a butt-load of photos, well here you go. Following is a glimpse of the day, in chronological order:

Stunning. This was what we saw when we drank our coffee and smoked our hand-rolled cigarettes. You should get excited, because there is quite a story behind this coffee. You'll have to wait to hear it though. HAH.

Here I am, quite the badass.

Our guides took us inside a housing compound, which was an absolutely amazing experience. Probably my favorite part of the entire trip. Here he was showing us how they do their census. There are 24 people living within this compound, split up by individual families (all related). Government workers come by every 5 years to recount and update the information. Isn't that unbelievable??? It's in chalk!

This woman is the grandmother of the compound. We were told the elders' house is highest off the ground to show respect, but it can be problematic because they are older and often more feeble. Our guide was amazing, he gave us so much interesting information. In Bali, there are two calendars. The older generations don't have any record of their birth, so she gives her age based on a significant, documented event. For example, maybe she remembers the Mt. Batur eruption in 1926, so now she uses that as her birth year. Or whatever. It's unbelievable no matter how you look at it. We were so privileged to have this experience.

This is where they have their weddings and other important ceremonies. It is also likely the spot where they keep their dead (for 5 years) before burning them. I'm not 100% about this. I tried so hard to retain all of the information, but I was too hopped up on the coffee and cigarette. I couldn't focus properly...

So what exactly am I photographing here? See the small rock in the middle, right side? Know what's underneath it? A placenta. Yes. An actual human placenta. They don't throw them out, but bury them in front of the porch. Girls on one side and boys on the other, and they are marked with rocks like this. Everyone knows how many people are in the family this way, and I believe it is also related to spiritual protection.

A view from inside the compound. The walls on either side are part of the kitchens. For every wife, there is a kitchen. This particular home had four, and each individual family only uses it's own. Our guide made several jokes about keeping the women apart because of the gossip and bickering. Psh, please. Don't pretend like you know us (joke. sharing a kitchen with another woman would definitely be a stretch).

These are their bathrooms. Apparently, they don't use them often, but go down to the river instead. Yeesh, so unsanitary. I asked about the drinking water, and most compounds have wells, so at least it's kept separate. I couldn't believe this family would allow us such an intimate look into their lives, so I questioned it. Every month the tour company gives them a donation for allowing us to visit. What a great set-up. I am happy I could take part in the tour, as the additional money must be a big help for these people.

Some scenery along the way...

They had several trees like this. So huge and so old! They were really beautiful and unique. I thought it was a banyan tree, but the pics I've found online look very different. If anyone can offer some conclusive information, that would be great.

We had many stops along the way, one of which was out in the rice fields to see how they work. They let us watch and try if we liked, as you can see below. We were told this is a woman's job, a coveted one. When they're working in the fields they have the opportunity to socialize and be out of the house, so it is often more fun for them than alternatives.

It's so cool to watch them sort the rice like this; they let us try and everyone who did seriously sucked. Hah.

And welcome to the perfect bike tour finale: riding in the bed of a truck. Our guides offered us a 10 km "easy" uphill route to the restaurant. They said easy, and I said okay. It nearly killed me. I decided whole-heartedly to quit while I could still move my legs, and I know I made the right choice. Plus, riding back while awkwardly sitting around the bikes, chatting with my awesome tour guide about complete randomness, and getting a little breeze never hurt anyone. Good call, me. Good call.

You're Lucky I'm Alive

2010-01-25T20:42:00.027+07:00

True fact. I could have died. And not in the we could go at any minute so we shouldn't take what we have for granted way. No. Nothing like that. For serious. Before I continue, I need you to understand. On only two occasions prior to this have I ever thought I was going to die. Both times I accepted it and had made peace. Once, in a car accident. People say your life flashes before your eyes before you die, that's because it does!! I will never forget that moment. Near death experience number two was less threatening and more a result of my own personal fears, but coming home from my first trip to Manhattan (greatest city on the planet), I genuinely believed we were all going to plummet to our deaths somewhere in middle America.

This was number 3. And it was different, because under no circumstances was I accepting it; there was no peace. I was fighting. I know, I know. I tend to embellish, and you assume it probably wasn't that bad. WRONG. To sum it up: I didn't necessary think I was going to die at any moment, but I knew if I lost focus for even a second I absolutely could die at any moment. Death would have come for me in the form of falling into the crater of an active volcano. Just lovely.

The beautiful beast herself, Mt. Batur (You are looking at none other than the best photo I've ever taken, and I reaallllly wish I was doing a story on the family living in that house. Woulda' been genius):

I'm just gonna' go ahead and give a **language alert**, because this story cannot possibly be told without some serious cursing thrown in there.

I already explained about using my sister to make it up the volcano during those pre-dawn hours. This was a time when my thoughts were mostly consumed with, Are you kidding me? I'm hiking up the easy one??? No way; I am tie-rrrd. My legs might fall off, you must have misspoken. Batur is so obviously the hard one. But never was there any fear. I was just an out of shape, out of breath, whiney baby slowly trudging my way to the top. Now, to be fair, there was likely no fear only because I couldn't see a thing that wasn't a foot in front of me. If I had been able to see three feet, I might have been shaking in my walking shoes. Basically, I could have easily fallen off the mountain at any given time. Awesome. I guess that's what they mean by ignorance is bliss.

Alright, so sunrise was nothing less than exactly what I have come to expect from one, which is nothing to write home about. This was my fourth attempt at seeing one since living in Asia, and it stood up to all the others. Watson's Bay, Angkor Wat, UAE desert, and Mt. Batur. CLOUDY. On this day I didn't even mind. Everything else was so awesome. There was a freaking crater behind me! It was so cold, but just walking near a patch of steam would warm me up. Monkeys started scrambling out of the crater to see about the commotion we were making, and that was quite a sight. You may know this already, but monkeys totally freak me out. A lot. But it was still cool to see them in a volcanic crater. We had breakfast, and then discussed trekking up to the rim. It looked kind of scary, but other people were doing it and my guide said it was A-okay. Not dangerous. My guide is a mother fucking liar.

The next 45 minutes of my life were crucial. I could not believe how frightening it was. So windy, clouds everywhere, trying to hike up a three foot wide ridge of volcanic sand and constantly sliding back down, not able to misstep in either direction as that would have meant falling to my death!

The guide held my hand after about three minutes. If I was going down, he was sure as hell coming with me.

When we made it to the top I was so freaked out I had to sit down. For almost a minute, I was incapable of standing. I have always said I may talk a lot of fuss, but when it comes down to it I know I would be able to handle anything. I realized while sitting, breathing heavily and debating whether or not crying was appropriate, that this was was, in fact, one of those times. It had come down to it, and I could either have the panic attack I felt coming on full force, or I could suck it up and get my ass off that goddamn volcano of black death. I chose the latter; it was time to man-up.

I'm going to interject another family story at this moment, because my sister's hilarious responses were simply not adequate in the situation. Nothing was funny. I was trying not to die, and I needed my momma's strength. I got it from the following (one of dozens of options from which I had to choose):

My mom and I went on an awesomely awesome Texas road trip this past October, and at one point we were staying in a cabin on the river. After sitting on the back porch relaxing, we came inside to find an unknown vehicle parked in the drive. We were pretty sure everything was okay, but we certainly didn't know who it was or why they were there, and they weren't showing themselves.

So mom grabs a knife from the kitchen, throws me the phones/keys and makes me stand in the door while she checks out the scene.

Me: Mom. What are you doing? If someone wants to get us that knifes not going to stop them.

Mom, standing with knife pointed out opening doors and calling out hello: I'm not stupid enough to think they can't take me, but I'm sure as hell not gonna' give it to 'em easy. If they want to hurt me they'll have to fight. They'll never forget me.

One of my proudest daughter moments, and I will never forget it.

I might have embellished a teeny bit in her response, because I'm certain she didn't use the word hell. Makes it better though, huh? As for the rest, you bet your ass it's true.

This is how I got myself down Mt. Batur. I kept thinking over and over again, I'm not stupid enough to think this volcano can't take me if it wants me, but I'm sure as hell not going to just roll over and let it.

So thanks momma, you sure make me proud.

And welcome to the eerie photo series, posted in sequential order. I hope you enjoy.

This is a very accurate portrayal of the steepness and width of the path. You can see it trailing up the ridge.

Checking out the crater from this height was my favorite part of the trek. I wasn't scared, and it was soo warm. There are tons of monkeys in this photo coming out of smoke, but they are really hard to see. So unexpected! They live in the volcano.

Here I am at the very top, directly behind us is the crater. I would say the summit was something like 15x20 ft, certainly not big enough to be of any comfort. This was taken during my man-up phase. Take it like a pro and then get the fuck off this thing. I remember around this time the guide kept asking me if I was cold. I could barely speak, so I would just shake my head no. But I certainly wasn't chilly anymore. I didn't feel a thing as every fragment of energy I had was focusing on surviving. The temperature was no longer my concern, and I didn't even notice.

I'm not sure if it helped me or hurt me to have the clouds around us like this, but for the majority of the time I couldn't see too much. Kinda crazy, huh?!

Life and Times of the Moderate Adventurer

2010-01-25T19:51:00.017+07:00

I recently commented on this, and now feel it's my responsibility to offer some examples for the part of you that's just been dying to know (it's in there somewhere). I should make myself a sign and wear it around my head with an arrow pointing in my direction, as Moderate Adventurer couldn't describe me more perfectly.

I will:

- move to Thailand, but live in a city with a McDonalds (okay, I could probably live without Mcky Ds, but I can't eat a lot of Thai food, so something western. Defense necessary as I've already received some criticism. Hpmh).

- travel to Bali alone, but not stay in the hyper-touristy areas.

- wake up at 2 am for a sunrise hike up an active volcano, but pick the easiest route.

- not go snow skiing.

- snorkel, but not over a sunken ship.

- attempt to hike most mountains (i'm reasonable), but would much rather take a gondola to the top. And I won't do it in the snow. Or rain. Or wind.

- go on a 25 km (15.5 miles) cycling excursion, if it's downhill.

- white water raft, when I'm promised ample time to relax and enjoy the scenery.

- walk around alone at night in most Asian countries, but not in the states.

- use Craigslist for a variety of things, including, but not limited to, buying/selling furniture and exercise buddies (yes, it's random, but I've gotten some flack for it. safe as cake. no worries).

I would:

- fly to Malaysia, but not cross a land border.

- spend an extensive amount of time in India, but not travel alone.

- not go back to Cambodia.

You get the idea... Moderate, 100%. Now I realize some of you back home are probably a bit confused, thinking all this sounds crazy adventurous. Let me spell it out for you. All my travel homies are looking at this saying, Psssh. What a wuss. You're no adventurer at all! I can't win 'em all, and I definitely cannot compete on the same scale as these travel-crazed hooligans I surround myself with on a daily basis. So I'll just be sitting here, chillin' in moderate-ville, with my travel ready fanny pack.

Sequence of Events

2010-01-24T20:06:00.006+07:00

I can't possibly give you details on every amazing part of the trip to Bali, so instead I offer this sequence of events. If you have questions about something, I'd be happy to share the story.

Wednesday: Sleep in bus terminal. Sleep in airport. Freeze.

Thursday: Fly to Bali. Get bamboozled by lack of airport transportation. Stupid expensive cabs. Ubud. Brata 1 guesthouse. Walk around town. Realize it's rainy season. Monkey forest. Eat my only Balinese meals. Delicious dessert.

Friday: White water rafting. So crazy beautiful you don't even know. Indescribable. No photos because of the water. Shame. Afternoon walk around the villages. Awesome.

Saturday: 25 km cycling tour. That's right, 25 km. And 3 more uphill. Hah. Amazing insight to the culture and community life. Loved this. Delicious food. Amazing views. Most expensive coffee in the world and hand rolled cigarettes at 8 am.

Jacqueline = wired. Ouch, my body hurts. Relaxing massage.

Sunday: Sunrise volcano trek. Struggling to save my life. Jacqueline - 1. Mount Batur - 0. Hah. Stunning. Beautiful. Awe-inspiring. Exhausted. Nice massage. Herons. Burritos. In bed by 8:30.

Monday: Total relaxation poolside with Janet Evanovich. All day long. Wonderful.

Tuesday: Amed. Black sand beaches and snorkeling. Scary currents. Scary ships. Scary sand. Awesome snorkeling. 3 hour motorbike ride. Pouring rain. Balinese Kecak Fire Dance performance. So flippin cool. Loved it.

Wednesday: Goodbye Bali. I'll miss you. Oh wait, I have to pay you to physically enter the terminal. Ngurah Airport - 1. Jacqueline - 0. Damn.

Finally. As Promised, A Fanny Pack Picture.

2010-01-24T19:28:00.010+07:00

Oh my gosh, Shut Up. Is she for real?

Why yes, I am so for real. You can be excited.

See, it doesn't even look bad. It looks c.o.o.l. I know your sitting there chewing on your lip, debating whether or not you have time to finish the morning cup of coffee in your hands before rushing out to purchase your own amazingly awesome and super chic fanny pack. It's okay, go ahead and take your time with the Cappuccino. I'm guessing there will be at least one left for you when you arrive at the store. Just a hunch.

And a bonus. Taken from the top of Mount Batur, the easiest of all volcanos to climb in Bali (do not be fooled; it will kill you if you let it). Isn't the inside of the crater absolutely stunning??? I was impressed.

And Welcome to the All About Me Section

2010-01-24T14:22:00.028+07:00

Yes. I'm taking it there. This has nothing to do with culture or obtaining new knowledge or anything that could possibly be of interest to you unless you are interested in me. So cheers, person-who-is-still-reading. I appreciate you too.

Well, I wanted to go to Bali because umm, DUH, it's Bali. But I also needed some time to get away and evaluate my life and goals. An unexpected turn of events has really got me thinking and Holy Schnozberries I have some decisions to make. Like, it's go time. What do I want to do now?

I'm gonna' level with you here. I'm scared to go home. Didn't expect that one, did ya'? I've been gone for so long now. I'm different. You're different. I'm terrified of feeling like an outsider in my own home, which is exactly what's going to happen. Now, that doesn't mean I can't get through it, but for now the warm, cheery comforting thoughts of Texas and America are gone with the wind. I recognize this is a normal part of

long-term travel, and I will say I have high hopes for readjustment.

But then, how am I going to make a living? I mean, really? So I can teach. Ehhh. Or I could write. I would love this one, but I'm realistic enough to know it's likely nothing more than a pipe dream. This is how I see it going:

Me: Hi National Geographic, Texas Monthly. I think your amazing magazine would benefit from having me as part of the team. Where do I sign?

NG/TM: Oooh, that's sweet. Quietly shuts door in face. End scene.

So that leaves me with what? Hooking? Kidding. I know there are other options; I'm just not particularly psyched about any of them.

So then maybe I teach abroad again, this time in an affluent country (Hong Kong and UAE in the running) and save some big bucks. But after, then what? How is it that my only real goals are to be married, be happy, and be a mother? Take a chill pill. Not tomorrow or anything. Like. The future. Isn't this a problem though? Isn't it exactly why women go to college and educate themselves, so they have more options and independence? And here I go not setting a good example. The thing is, I want a job. I just don't have any career goals. Woah. I guess I should join the ranks of millions of other Americans sitting on their couches eating bon-bons with their right hand and cheetos with their left, whilst strategically flipping channels and waiting for Mr. Wonderful to fall out of the sky and into my lap. Yes, I see that working out stupendously. It's just, I'm not lazy. I don't want to sit around all day without a job. Quite the predicament.

Okay, okay, I would assume well over half the American population doesn't actually like their J-O-B. We all have to work. I get it. I'm on it. I guess I'll dive into the corporate world and suck all of the money out of it I can get. Every last penny.

Moving on to some recent personal realizations:

I'm not, nor will I ever be a competitive journalist. I feel extremely uncomfortable invading people's personal space by taking photographs or pushing them to answer questions. Not for me. I only see myself working on long-term personal projects.
I could be a nature and/or landscape photographer.
My only potential career goal is writing. Go me.
I am a moderate adventurer, if you will (I know. Shocking I can do anything in moderation).

Do Not Travel Abroad with Your Kids. You Fools.

2010-01-24T14:17:00.012+07:00

I mean what are you doing? What are you really doing? Who are you trying to fool? Those kids aren't going to remember this experience, and even if they do, what good is it? Did they really see the culture and the life in Bali, or Thailand or wherever the hell else you think it's a grand idea to parade them around as 7 year olds? Think they really got something from it other than the fancy schmancy hotel and beautiful beach resort you shacked them up in for several days, with their own personal driver? Wow, they're really going to appreciate home more now and of course they have a broader understanding of the world. Good for you. Pat yourself on the back.

Or you can put them out there, staying with the locals, riding public transport. Roughin' it. Give them a taste of the reality and humble them a bit. But then, you know, maybe you should concern yourself a bit with their safety...

Before I go any further, let me make it clear. These are just my opinions. If you don't like them, fine. I mean, I don't even have a kid, who the hell am I to judge? (Even though I might not be qualified and I know it, don't be mistaken, I am most definitely judging).

Okay, so I've had these feelings for awhile. Seeing kids around Thailand seriously irks me. It is simply inappropriate to bring a child into any tourist area of this country. Wrong. End of story. Bali is a bit different as you are not necessarily exposing them to a raucous, sexually ambiguous scene. It's much calmer (where I was). But still, honestly, what's the point?? Soooo much money and effort and they're too young to remember.

And, children are obnoxious. Okay, okay. Let me rephrase. American children are obnoxious. Don't kid yourselves, you know it's true. So why bring an obnoxious representative of our country to a foreign land?? I guarantee the natives will not forget how your crazy offspring were running amuck while their children worked to prepare your food all day long.

Story insert: Walking through a small village in Bali, a rented SUV drives by very slowly and a little boy, maybe 8, thrusts his torso completely out the window, yelling and waving at the locals at the top of his lungs. HELLLLOOOOO. Hello. HELLO. HELLLOOOO. hellooo. One last time. Obnoxious.

And even if by some small miracle your children don't act like the little jerk-faces they are on your two week vacation wonderland, you lucky soul. I hope they don't take the world for granted when there 16 and have already been to 10 countries.

Boring But Necessary Details

2010-01-23T13:59:00.022+07:00

----- Flights, Accommodations, Costs, Exchange Rates, Food, Transport and Maps -----

All very important when it comes to travel, but sadly, not the biggest page-turner. Let's get this out of the way.

Flight: I went with Air Asia, a budget airline if I ever saw one. Lucky for me, I come from America, land of the I hope you don't know any better, because our airline sucks airtravel opportunities (CONTINENTAL!!!!!). I do know better, but I was prepared for the worst, and what I got was still far superior to any US carrier (you all should be ashamed of yourselves). Nice, big leather seats. That's what they had to offer me. For the four hour flight, a shorter distance than NY to LA, a nice, big leather seat was all I needed. I could also stand up straight and my bag fit conveniently in the overhead compartment. Additional bonuses.

It cost 11900 baht ($360.28). Purchased 4 days in advance.

6 days in advance, you're looking at 7555 baht ($228.73). Not too shabby.

Accommodations: For this, I did a bit of research online and booked only my first night prior to arrival. There are literally dozens of options in Ubud (pronounced U-bood), ranging in price and comfort level from crackhouse all the way to fancy, schmancy uppity resort. You could spend anywhere from $5 to $200 a night, depending on what you want. I made a reservation at Brata 1 guesthouse, and ended up staying my entire trip. It was clean and safe, and they made breakfast. It is a traditional Balinese housing compound (made a bit more comfortable for the traveling westerner), so most of the people who lived there were family. It was nice to see the granddad wandering around. There was a temple on the grounds, which I thought was pretty awesome. And I really enjoyed how open and willing they were to talk about the lifestyle and the culture. I would imagine most of the guesthouses are similar, but I was happy to be where I was. I used them to book all tours (after shopping around), and they consistently made me a better deal.

My first two nights, $12 USD. Last four nights, $10 USD.

I am positive I could have found something cheaper had I really searched, but I was very happy with my diggs and therefore willing to spend the extra $3 a night. I realize you are probably in shock that I might have wanted something cheaper than ten dollars, and cannot understand there really is a difference between $7 and $10, or $10 and $12. But in Bali, living off Thai Baht, yes sir. Every little bit counts.

Cost: Bali can be as cheap or expensive as you would like. I had 300 USD for 6 days, and I was fine. I spent it all, but it was very easy to budget. All of my money went to tours. I could have easily lived on $15-$20 a day had it not been for that, but you know, I wanted to see the sights. It costs anywhere from $15 - $100 for a tour, depending on what you want and your bargaining skills. Mine were all in the thirty to forty price range, and I got anywhere from $2-$10 off the asking price. And I shopped around. Listening to what other people paid, I would guess out of every 10 people, I was in the top two for cheapest price. Always go cheaper, you'll get it.

White Water Rafting - $30 (asking $35)

Cycling - $30 (asking $32.50)

Volcano Trekking - $35 (guesthouse price and I paid in full;

in town they were asking $45 - $50 after negotiation)

Souvenirs were shockingly cheap, and I should have taken more advantage. If you have the chance to go, look into it. They have some really amazing stuff. If I have one regret for Bali, not looking into the shopping is it. I am so quick to turn hagglers away, but their culture is so rich and unique, it would definitely be worth it to have a reminder.

Exchange Rates: SUCK!!!!!!!!!!!! You will get screwed here. When I saw how much money I was given compared to how much it was actually worth I felt bamboozled. They got me, and they got me good. I'll introduce the players and then let's break it down into a mathematical equation.

I'm dealing with Thai Baht, US Dollars, and Indonesian Rupiah. Now, I looked into it a bit before heading out, but I don't worry too much about exchange rates here because I pretty much assume I'm never gonna' get a deal when I'm dishing out baht. With that said, let's take a look.

First, I tried to go to a bank in Thailand. No bueno. No can do, no sireebob. Next stop- airport.

I brought 15,000 THB with me. All of the following information is according to online currency converters and Lonely Planet. I fear this will look like a bunch of mumbly jumbly numbers of no relevance, but go with me for a second.

15,000 THB = 455.08 USD

455.08 USD = 4,272,300 IDR

Taking it one step further one could reasonably assume 15,000 THB = 4,272,300 IDR; this is in fact supported by online converters.

Soooo, you can imagine my dismay when at the Bangkok airport my 15,000 THB equaled a mere 3,300,000 IDR. That's a loss of $100!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Straight bamboozled.

Get this. It's even worse in Indonesia (and you thought that wasn't possible). Thanks to the effing airport tax!!!!!! I had to learn the hard way. Why in the world would nobody tell me about this??! I feel like I properly prepared for my adventure with more than adequate research, and no where did I read, Oh and by the way, if you actually want to leave the country, you have to pay a tax at the airport. Suck on that, suckah. We got you, bitch.

They got me good. I did not have the whopping 150,000 Rupiah on hand (which is necessary at this airport to even think about getting your butt back home), so I had to exchange my bahts (incorrect, it's most definitely baht). And a big thanks to them for a fantastic sixty six cents on the dollar rate. It was sweet, really. Buuuurrrnnnn.

Quick Recap:

I should have been vacationing with 4.3 million Rupiah, instead I had 3.3. Ouch.
Bali airport bamboozles suckers into paying to leave the country while offering a very generous 66 cents on the dollar rate.

Food: As you would expect, the more touristy, the more expensive the food. For a full meal, including a water, fruit drink and dessert (or beer), I was paying about $7 in town. Food ranged from one to three bucks. Outside of town it was easily half price. I read Ubud was the best place in all of Bali for food. I don't know what they're talking about, unless they mean Western food, and that's absurd. After two and a half days of searching for Balinese food, I succumbed to the kitschy coffee shops and romantic eateries that lined the streets. Could have been Austin or San Fran. How exciting for me. I did get some great Mexican food, but I mean, come on, let's be a little authentic. I'm not going to go so far as to say local food wasn't there, but it certainly wasn't convenient.

I did enjoy traditional Balinese breakfast every morning at my guesthouse, and by enjoy I mean absolutely loved. Two slices of toast filled with warm bananas and gooey deliciousness, pressed together in toastie form (aka jaffles), complimented with tea or coffee (both amazing) and a bowl of fresh fruit. Yumm!!! I'll delve more into the coffee a little later, but for now you should know there is a reason they're famous for it. It is soooo soooo yummy. I loved it all. The tea, surprisingly, tasted like tea from home. 100% not expecting this, but what a nice little treat.

Also, they have amazing desserts. They call them pancakes, but they're not. More like Ethiopian bread, only sweeter. They are perfect filled with bananas and sprinkled with a bit of chocolate sauce.

Transport: This was hands down my biggest issue on the island. Publicly, it kind of doesn't exist. They have only bemos, an open mini-van of sorts. These run on no schedule and don't have specific routes. For me, with only 6 days, not so possible. I would have to be living there for it to be worth losing an entire day to travel 25 km. So like, what do you do? I'm not really sure... Some people rent cars, but then there are signs all over about environmental awareness and how bad that is, plus for me it was simply out of the budget. They do have tourist shuttle busses that are crazy expensive, but will transport you to all major parts of the island (this is what you do), or you can just rock the tours (what I did). Also, if you are crazy, you can walk or cycle or rent a motorbike. I give a solid no recommendation to all unless you are not concerned about possibly losing your life in a treacherous motorbike accident or happen to be a trained long distance cyclist or whatever. Otherwise, the answer is no.

Maps: Coming soon, which could of course mean never.

Let Me Introduce You to My Sister, Kay

2010-01-18T19:09:00.024+07:00

Right now I am in Bali living the sweet life. Just finishing up my fourth full day, and I have a plethora of new experiences to share. But for now, I'm not going to do any of that. I'm going to talk to you about Kay.

And WHYYYYY would I do such a thing???????

Yesterday, at 4:15 a.m. while hiking up an active volcano, I realized she is my go-to person when I need to get through a sticky situation. I use her all the time. I can't believe it has taken me so long to draw this conclusion, but it is very, very true. Also, I use Caitlin's humor and my mother's strength, but without a doubt, mostly Kay.

Por qua? Because thinking about how she would react to a potentially treacherous situation makes me laugh hard enough to breeze right on through any near calamity. Before I continue on, [Kay] you should know this is written out of love. 100%. Thinking of you has absolutely gotten me through my worst moments. Now what would Kay do??

For example:
Remember the time we were sitting on your front porch in Wimberly, and there was a katydid on the wall??? Oh my gosh the neighbors must have thought we had been invaded by a mutant strain of hyper-aggressive scorpions traveling in packs, chasing us around the yard with stingers pointed by the way we were fussin' and hollerin'. It was a green, completely harmless little thing. Not even a roach. A katydid. I guarantee you anytime I see some freak-ass bug that makes me want to run and hide under the covers, I think of us on your porch and assume more likely than not, it's harmless and doesn't want to hear me screaming. Then I walk away chuckling to myself, feeling more confident than ever.

---Side note: I would love to see your reaction to the bugs for dinner options. I can only imagine it would not go well for the poor soul trying to sell you fried roaches and crickets. I'm sure he'd think twice before questioning a foreigner again---

Remember when you were in the garage in Montgomery, holding your son's hand, pretending you were all big and bad going on a mouse hunt?? Yeah, you're all talk and we all know it, but we love you none-the-less. One look at a teeny-tiny, helpless little mouse and you likedta jerked that boy's arm right out of its socket. Screamin' and hollerin' and running as if a rattler had just tried to bite your foot off. This is at the top of my list of favorite moments. Anytime a rat scurries by when I am near the water it comes to mind, and God it makes me laugh. But don't worry, I stay away from the rats. G-rosssssss.

And remember all those times we tried to hike up Enchanted Rock??! **I recommend skipping this one if you'd rather not see any vulgar or explicit language (sorry grandma)** This is what I thought of in Bali when starting out on what I was told would be an easy hike up to see the sunrise. Fekking liars. So, it's 4 in the morning and all of a sudden I'm exhausted, climbing straight up rock and volcanic sand for what seemed like an eternity, not seeing a damn thing except what was right underneath my feet (this was my saving grace, I tell you) and I'm thinking, What would Kay do in this situation??? Well, you wouldn't have done it. You would have quit, but the bitching and moaning that would have ensued between the starting point and your collapse is what got me through. I was dying, but I was laughing on the inside, and I kept going. Something along the lines of Who the fucking fuck climbes this shit, and I don't need to prove a good damn thing, and Oh my god, how much fucking farther do I have to go, and Shit, I really think I'm about to die all came to mind. And all put a smile on my face. To give those of you non-natives the lowdown on Enchanted Rock, it's (just like it sounds) a rock, not a mountain. It always took us five times longer than expected to climb, and it always involved lots of bitching and I quits before we finally made it to the top. If we made it to the top that is, success was never guaranteed with the two of us.

I also thought about you in Bali while white water rafting. Remember that time we floated the Guadalupe in April (we're idiots, and we were frozen idiots on that day), and that little grass snake tried to get in your tube???? Seriously, what a riot. There you were, trapped in the river, in your tube, no where to go, and this snake trying to get a piece of that. Now, we both knew it was harmless, but clearly, that was not the point nor was it our concern at the moment. Your attempts to get it off without actually touching it were quite a sight. And of course you were screaming and hollering all the while. Classic. I don't even need to mention how terrified we were of the three feet mini-waterfall at the end of the float, as I'm sure you can imagine. Back to Bali- this week when I went through actual rapids, had to duck to avoid lowhanging bamboo briges as if my life depended on it (it kinda did) and flew down a 5 meter drop (15 ft)!!!!!!!!!!!!! I thought about you the entire time. And how would Kay react to this situation? The answer: quite comically. This kept me entertained the entire drive home, so thanks for that.

For this next one I'm gonna' take you back in time a bit to my first night in Korea. **Language alert** What a nightmare. If you don't know, after approximately 30 seconds in my apartment I started crying. How did I hold it together? Here I thought of my mom's strength and Kay's reaction; I needed a double dose. But, I imagined Kay's response to be something like the following: Umm, you're joking right? How could you possibly expect me to live here? Not even when hell freezes over you freak. Either take me back to the airport on your dollar or put me in the nicest hotel in the city, thankyouverymuch. I will not be staying here for fuck's sake. And I got a laugh out of it. Remember in college when you saw my dorm laundry room? Taking in the old washer and dryer and stacks of anonymous clothes lying around, you immediately informed me I would be doing laundry at your house for the next year. In that case it wasn't necessary, but I guarantee you I would have taken you up on the offer had I been able to do so from Korea.

Remember when I said this post was 100% out of love??? Love Love LOVE LOVE LOVE. Love. I love you, and sincerely thank you for the ridiculously awesome memories that have gotten me through my toughest times in Asia.

Nobody Nobody But You. Clap Clap. Point Clap.

2010-01-13T14:07:00.013+07:00

I think it's time for you all to enjoy a song that is now constantly on my playlist. I just can't seem to get enough of the most rockin' K-Pop band to ever exist.

Enter: The Wondergirls. Check. it. out.

I bring this up because I am currently packing (for Bali. What What!) and I find myself dancing around the room to Nobody on repeat. Did I mention I have a fanny pack? I only say this to solidify the cool factor in question by my song choice.

And, a few hours later- Just imagine you've waited to read this part.... Well, I'm off to spend the night in the airport (a first) and head out bright and early at 6 a.m. Got my passport in my fanny, already on the hips and I'm ready to go. Don't get any dirty ideas you Aussies!!! --- As no Aussies actually read my blog, you can fully understand this statement by clicking here. Second paragraph, last line --- Catch ya' on the flip side; I'm Bali baby.

Here are a couple of stolen photos to hold you over until I have my own.

The rice fields in Ubud. This is the kind of stuff I will be seeing on my cycling tour (if the cycling doesn't kill me first, of course.)

Mt. and Lake Batur (largest crater lake on Bali). See the volcano? Ahh-mazing. And it hasn't even erupted since 1994. Since the first known eruption in 1804, 22 more have been recorded. True story. Of all the things I'm worried about on Bali, maybe this is the most intimidating :). I am planning to be at the top of that sucker before sunrise. Hopefully I will have some vantage points as nice as this one coming back down. Apparently there are some villages on the lake where I can spend the night and do things like hot mud baths. 'Tis the plan.

Only 12:30 and What a Day.

2010-01-12T12:53:00.008+07:00

I'll start off with the money shot, because no one likes a buried lead. But, to give it to you, I'm going to need you to prepare yourself. Sit down, take a deep breath. Are you ready?????

Duh duh naahhhh......... I bought a Fanny Pack.

No, your eyes are not deceiving you. A Fanny Pack.

I'll get back to that part of the story later, for now I have to tell you what led up to this most awesomely awesome, 1000-cool-points-worth purchase.

This morning I saw my vacation plans nearly crash and burn right before my eyes. Don't jump to conclusions or anything, my plane ticket is bought. I'm going. But it did. not. go. well. The skinny: the director is paying for our faces and she wants to see them, even if there couldn't be less for us to do. So, we have to prance in every morning this week and sign our names in beautiful penmanship, and then we can prance right out. Well, we don't want to do that, because you know, like, I could be doing better things.

We were only told of our vacation on Thursday, and this didn't give us much time to act. On Friday, Lia did the talking solo and convinced our direct boss that letting us go was the right thing to do. This is where I made my mistake. They are going to Cambodia, I'm going to Bali. I should have confirmed previously. Stupid, stupid me. Today, I went to make what I thought was going to be a smooth transition into fake signing my name away but what I got was a nightmare. Tons of Thais involved, sheets to fill out for the director, asking formal permission for my absence. No No NO NO NO. I wasn't going to do any of that. And I didn't, I walked away.

But it sucks. We have to be so careful about these kinds of things, it is all about illusions here. We don't have a thing to do at school, and I thought we were set. Lia and Rachel are long gone now, with no papers or information about their leaving. But I'll have to deal with my part tomorrow. Ugggggggghhhhhhhhhhhh.

So anyways, rough early morning for me. By mid-morning things were looking up considerably. I mean, I bought a fanny pack. And, I find the idea so amusing I have been laughing about it, out loud, to myself, ever since. If you are sitting at home reading this and thinking, What's so funny? I have a fanny pack, and I really like it. It's incredibly useful. News flash. There are few things in life more un-cool than a fanny pack. Deal with it.

Lucky for you, I'm here to change all that. Fanny Packs are in. Go out and get you one. All the cool kids are doing it (and by that I mean me). I too, purchased this out of necessity. Bali is not a place to be leaving valuables in your room. I was thinking more along the lines of a mini-backpack, but it just turns out the fanny was a better option today.

I considered showing off it's rockin' features, as I'm sure you're dying to see, but you'll just have to wait. I do promise to sport it in a majority of photos whilst in Bali, if that's any consolation.

Hott Mess Thailand

2010-01-11T11:47:00.005+07:00

Today I witnessed a perfect example of why westerners sometimes have difficulty with the Thai way, and I feel obliged to share it with you.

There I was, waiting in the Sri Racha immigration office for my re-entry permit (something I have to do before leaving the country. Did I mention I'm going to Bali??!) and it all went down.

First thing I'm going to say is they have changed their system within the last month and now require a different process than when I went to Abu Dhabi. So, I was on the losing end before even walking in the door being that I was unaware of these updates. As a result, I waited a long, long time and people who came much later than me were served first. Jerks.

In my patiently waiting stage, I witnessed two farang interactions with Thai immigration officials. An older Dutch couple, house owners here in town I'm guessing in their 70s, wanted a 2 month extension on their visa. I assume this was to buy them more time so they could eventually get the year-extension. IO's (immigration officer) response, with a winning smile plastered across her face was No, we simply cannot do that for you, but we would be happy to provide a 7 day extension. A. I am sure they could have done it, and B. I'm sorry, but 7 days. Whoop-di-do. These people were old though, and couldn't seem to muster too much of a fight. Actually, it was sad. This kind of stuff happens all the time.

And, hopeless farang number 2, a Frenchie who also wanted a visa extension was told he would have to go all the way to the border and back to Chonburi Immigration office in the same day if he wanted his extension. I know this information means nothing to you, but that's a minimum of 5 hours one way, not including the actual visa process, and the office here in town closes at 4. This is so not possible. He was a little more well-trained in the managing and dealings with of Foreign/Thai relations, and must have asked at least 20 times what they wanted of him. Repeating it in several different ways, in the hopes of getting a better answer. He didn't. Sucks.

Luckily my re-entry permit went off without a hitch (by this I mean I only spent 45 more-than-necessary minutes of my life waiting while aimlessly staring at the wall and learning about the woes of farang life). And, umm, I'm headed to Bali!!!!

Bali Hey, Babo.

2010-01-10T14:04:00.007+07:00

A special treat in the title for those of you who speak Korean (all 2 of you).

Moving right along... THIS THURSDAY I'M GOING TO BALI!!! FOR 6 DAYS!!!!! I recognize the all caps may be a bit overkill, but this is seriously exciting stuff. It will be the longest amount of time I have gotten to spend in an Asian country where I'm not living, and it's Bali. Sweet sauce.

I've been researching like crazy, and am happy to report there is a lot more than beautiful beaches for me on the island (not that there's anything wrong with that. please. bring on the beach). I can wake up at something crazy like 2 am and hike a volcano to watch the sunrise from the top of the crater. Done. I can snorkel in the coral reefs, go fishing in the rivers and eel fishing in the rice paddies (for some reason I am particularly excited about the fishing), see animals and plant life that have only existed so far for me on PlanetEarth, go white water rafting, take cooking classes and ride a bike through the rice fields and countryside, etc etc etc. And after all of that, I will of course park my white (soon to be tan) little butt on the beautiful sandy beaches with a book (not on Bali though, the Gilis). Done and done. I am so excited!!!

So far, I only know I'm going to start my trip in Ubud and likely base myself there for the majority of my stay (I recognize this city name means nothing to you, same for me 24 hours ago). Everything else I will figure out upon arrival. Hoo-rah.

I Have the Most Amazing Friends. Ever.

2010-01-09T21:39:00.007+07:00

And by that I mean friends who bring me cheese!!!!!! Thank you thank you Blaire and Jarvis. You are awesome.

Look it. I mean, they brought me three different kinds. Amazing.

I was able to spend an evening with them in Bangkok before they continued their Thailand adventure, and it was really great. Very relaxed, having the opportunity to catch up a bit and talk about fun travel stuff (something I will dearly miss after returning home) like airline carriers, visa issues and all that jazz was just perfect. They have a friend they're staying with here and he was kind enough to let me crash on the couch. We didn't do much, made it out to the night bazaar for food and a little shopping, but even in that small amount of time, it was so cool to see their first reactions to Thailand and Asia. The couple has travelled all over Europe and been in Mexico, but never made it to the east until now.

I forget how different it all is. I could see it in Blaire's eyes and reactions. Talking about the language, about the transportation and really just everything, it is all an adjustment. And I mean, of course it is, this is Thailand. You really can't get much different than the US. But somehow it seems so normal now. There not at the "normal" stage yet and are still trying to soak it all in. I forgot how overwhelming it can be. And it really, really is; Thailand is just a buzz. I can't wait for an update from them when it's all said and done.

Other than getting a reality check on the hectic life I lead, I really enjoyed being around someone from home. Hearing the Texas accents, catching up on all the news, seeing the A&M t-shirts, and talking about how amazing cheese is is what it's all about. And there I go, bringing it up again. I really can't help myself. It. Is. So. Delicious.

A mere 3 days later, January 12. And the cheese sticks are long gone. Probably not the best idea, but delicious none-the-less.

When Annoying Becomes Entertaining and Unusual is Perfectly Normal...

2010-01-09T14:44:00.008+07:00

then I'm in big trouble. And looks like, as of yesterday, I'm in really big trouble.

Case and point. Last night as I was riding into Bangkok to catch up with friends who are on vacation here (meet Blaire and Jarvis), I started out with my usual en-route routine consisting of ipod and book and anything else I can do to help me tune out the incredibly loud, incredibly annoying thing that just-so-happens to always be playing on television. That thing may be some absurd movie like "The Baron and the Demons", or more likely, a game show, Thai music videos, or an all out entertainment variety show hour (that could last easily up to 7 hours. They're not fooling anyone with this "hour" business). There I am reading my book, listening to my tunes, keeping it together, and I find myself distracted by the costumes and dancing on the television. Ummm, wtf. I literally took my ipod out of my ears, put down my book, and proceeded to focus entirely on something so absurd I cannot believe it even exists. Yet, I was watching it. And enjoying it. Gawd, talk about freakin' me out. I sat there for maybe 10 minutes zoned into the slapstick humor, silly dances and outlandish costumes. I even laughed out loud. That was the moment I realized I was in a whole new element, and I had to check out of it immediately. There I went, back to my music and my book, to only sneek a peek at the tv once every 10 minutes or so..

And then today as I was leaving the internet cafe/restaurant/karaoke bar/house, which has recently become my new favorite hang-out as the internet in my apartment has been sub-par (to say the least) for almost a month now, I saw the little boy who lives there standing in the restaurant pantsless. No bottoms whatsoever. And, he was pulling up his shirt to expose the only previously covered part of his body. People were eating food in the same restaurant. Hell, I've eaten food in the same restaurant at the same time he happened to be without pants in the past. But today, I thought to myself, this is probably not normal, and I should probably be a little bit bothered by the fact that people (albeit children) are in the nude while others are making and eating dinner. But, I'm not really.

I am taking these incidents as a sign that I have been gone too long, and I am realizing more and more how difficult it will be to go back. Where will I find kids without pants standing around in restaurants? When will I be able to enjoy Thai music videos and old-school dramas?

Culture shock for me this go-round is going to be a B.

The aforementioned friends in town also got me thinking about how my perspective has changed. Details on that visit will eventually make it on the blog, but for now, I need a nap. In the meantime, it was great to see people from home and at the same time new to Thailand. I am very interested to know what they think about everything after they are back stateside. I would be jealous of their Chiang Mai and Koh Samui adventures, but I'm going to Bali next week!!!! Yep, leaving you with a cliffhanger and headin' for my nap.

Oh, Sweet Gift of Time

2010-01-07T20:34:00.003+07:00

Today, just when I was feeling blue, Thailand came and dropped this sweet sweet gift right in my lap. It was very thoughtful, really. By gift I of course mean a vacation. Yes, that's right, another one. And it couldn't have come at a better time. Not only do I have no responsibilities other than signing my name on a piece of paper next week (if you didn't already know), I am now, in addition, completely free the following Monday, Tuesday AND Wednesday.

Oh, sweet sweet gift. Whatever shall I do with you? Rest assured, regardless of where I go (I'm thinking Bali, or Hong Kong, but really mostly Bali), I will be taking advantage of this.

New Day, New Me

2010-01-04T21:50:00.006+07:00

Ehhh. Not quite. But I do have a couple resolutions for the new year. It must be your lucky day, b/c I'm even going to share them with you. Go figure.

1. Stop biting my nails. I mean, I'm 23. It's time I kicked that habit. I'm almost 15 hours in and I can just feel them growing out beautifully...

2. Whip this body into shape. Increased activity is key. My first step in this plan is Muay Thai (Thai Boxing) lessons. Good luck to me! ---- UPDATE: Muay Thai was a bust as the only shop I know of has closed. I'll just have to be a little more creative. Tonight's plan: briskly walking (yeah, that's right, it's what awesome people do for exercise), lunges, cruches and push-ups. This will be day 2, so hopefully all goes well.