To quit life and become a nomad gypsy spending it meandering countries huddled alongside the immense and enchanting Mekong, my days spent absorbing literary wisdoms of my favorite authors, basking in the fiery southern sun, and trekking ravishing sceneries bestowed upon by stunning hillsides and breathtaking sunsets, is my greatest dream. I’ve been fortunate enough to experience this for weeks at a time on many occasions, this time not quite in the jungle, but near the edge, a weekend in grimy, gritty, ghetto Bangkok for my birthday. Far away from any parties, I spent it poolside, breaking only to be fed and watered and purchase purses, I was in bed each night watching BBC by dusk. Happens every time.

I hammered through The Time Travelers Wife, a book recommended and given to me by my aunt. I had a tough time wrapping my head around this book as it’s far from my style, but once free of all distractions except the looming threat of a sunburn, I was quickly immersed in the complexly written and emotionally compelling story, tears streaming down my face becoming the swimming pool below. I recommend. I dried my tears and read another cover to cover, by an author highly favored by and an influence on authors I perpetually read, a book I have been holding and anticipating for some time, the Crying of Lot 49 by Thomas Pynchon. It began so promising in a powerful manner, introducing extraordinarily satirical characters like Mike Fallopian, Manny Di Presso, Dr. Hilarius (the protagonists psychiatrist), but in the end, more like the middle, I was thoroughly dissatisfied. The final 5 pages did finally help shape the book as whole, but I found myself searching for links to its theme over and over throughout. It was frustrating, quite irrelevant more often than not. Perhaps this is because it’s dated, and I am only of the ripe age of 26, though this has never stopped me from enjoying a classic before; but perhaps it is merely because I had such high expectations, as I do of everyone and everything, and this resulted in a greater let down. Fortunately, at 147 pages, and not having packed another book, I finished it. I don’t recommend.

I think I will write a blog solely on book reviews and recommendations. Soon.

Back to Bangkok Dangerous. I sunburned my boobs (every time) and realized there is not enough lemongrass in my life. I found DAIRY QUEEN and a degree from the University of Ottawa for $30CAD. We stayed at the Rambuttri Inn on Soi Ram Buttri, a far more easy going and blasé soi than it’s renowned equivalent Khao San Road. 850 baht ($25CAD) / night for this rooftop. HIGHLY recommend.

180 baht ($5 CAD) for all of this.

That’s stir fried vegetables and tofu over brown rice with a spicy garlic sauce, a fresh mango smoothie, beers, water, and menthols (note the warning pictures on these menthols). Money goes a long, long way in Asia, so you’ve heard. I backpacked Thailand, Laos, and Cambodia for more than a month on less than $1000CAD (Vietnam soon!). Massages in SE Asia are a dime a dozen and drain you of about $5 for an hour for pleasure pains by a little Thai women whose bijou hands are her deadliest weapon. But MaiThai massages are cheap thrills not to be missed.

This was horrifying, particularly playing on my fear of fish. It does not hurt, only tickles. Not so much a massage as an exfoliant. Or a leech like attack. These inch to an inch and a half long ‘doctor’ fish are from Turkey and have a hunger for dead skin. My mom is going to tell me get a grip when she reads this, but I screamed, I SCREAMED, I couldn’t do it. The feeling of these sucker fish between your toes is that of a submersing your feet into just as many hissing cockroaches. So dramatique, I know. You don’t know how long it took to get me to stick my feet in just long enough for Audrey to take this photo. Fear factor.

The floating market was yet another overcrowded money snatching tourist attraction, in which I overheated to that of Bikram and bailed on for refuge in an air conditioned van for the remaining hour of the venture.

In place of birthday cake, I ate grasshoppers and chicken hearts. Becoming Taiwanese! Breakfasted on the big day in Bangkok, lunched mid air with Air Asia, dinnered in Taipei like the Japanese MY BIRTHDAY ON RICE SOCIETY, but the party was on Friday the 13th. Friends came and caroused with Nick Chaney and I as I turned 25 (for the second time) and Nick bid farewell to Taiwan (for the first time, they always come back) in hopes of happier tummies in New Zealand. We made dreams real and memories last in photos and in the heart.

Photos from Thailand Fall 2009

Photos from Thailand Winter 2009

Photos from Birthdays and Bye Bye’s

Stay tuned, I have an announcement.

Au revoir.