Joan of Arc

I am in the process of moving from Thailand to the United States.

Packing and I have never had a very strong relationship but its now becoming an actual problem. I can assure you that every major move I have made in the past ten years (uh...perhaps 12 or so if you count moving to & from college several times) has been executed within 48 hours of departure. I pretty much just wait until its time to go and then I throw what I can in a suitcase and throw everything else in the garbage.

This leaves me feeling rather wasteful but its a necessary evil of moving via airline where its not economical to take everything with you (no matter how badly I want to use the rest of that Listerine, its probably getting the boot in three days)
That being said, an interesting new problem has cropped up regarding my yarn stash. What do I do with all my yarn?

When I first arrived here I complained endlessly about the poor yarn selection in SE Asia. I worked with sport weight acrylic out of desperation and my mother, hearing my cries, sent me what she could. Low & behold, here I am eight months later with an exploding stash of yarn. And nice yarn, at that. I have like four skiens of Lambs Pride Bulky. I cant just throw that shit out!
But it takes up all this room in the suitcase. And I have an entire dryer box of yarn waiting for me in Portland. Oh how I have agonized over this! Its comparable to the anxiety and torment I went through when I was deciding what to do regarding my shoes upon leaving the US.
Ive already decided that the acrylics are getting the boot (except for two balls but they have a really unique color, I swear). Im keeping the eyelash yarns and the wools for sure. Havent made any final judgements regarding the cotton or the bucle yet.

So in the interest of keeping my sanity, I began a whole bunch of new projects. I figured if I use the yarn then its not such a waste when I have to trash the rest of the skien...right? Ive been knitting non-stop for almost three days now. I knit while walking down the street, its ridiculous. I have a half done cotton dish cloth in my lap at this very moment.

I finished several dish cloths (some of you may receive them in the mail - I aplogize for blatantly unloading on you) and this nifty little hat. Its from www.headhuggers.org which you might remember is the cancer hat charity I went absolutely nutty about a couple months ago. I think that because I made it out of this shiny blue/grey-ish yarn it sort of looks like chain mail. When I showed it to Corinne she said "oh, youve knit a helmet"

Indeed I have.

The Long & Short of It

I didnt post this story. But then I realized that nothing strikes the heartstrings as skillfully as self deprecating humor.

Story goes, I walk into the office at school and there is a bulletin board highlighting the foreign language programs at Prabhassorn. PBS has had upwards of a dozen faraang teachers over the years so theres plenty of photos to choose from. I (being a huge jerk) walk up to the board and laugh pointing at a picture, "Wow! [explicit] Look at that ugly guy [explicit]!" Took me a second to figure it out... Punchline is coming...

The ugly guy was me at the LoyKratong festival. Super bummer!
Im never ever cutting my hair that short again.

Editor in Chief

I have a couple more hours before I need to be at Don Muang. I agreed to proofread this friend of a friend's paper because it was presented to me in that innocent "oh can you just check the grammar if I email this to you?" sort of way.
Here's what one paragraph (of the 29 pages!) looks like:

"Given the observation sequence ... and a model ..., we will use Viterbi algorithm to choose a corresponding state sequence ... which is optimal in some meaningful sense.
Let... be the maximal probability of state sequences of the length k that end in state i and produce the k first observations for the given model."

all the elipses are really long algebraic expressions that wouldnt copy onto blogger because THEY ARE TOO DAMN CONFUSING!

Now I understand that you dont have to necessarily know what you are reading into order to check whether or not its grammatically correct in English. Im not proofing the content so it shouldnt matter to me what the paper is about. But good lord...all the numbers and long words and the fact that its 29 pages! I should be getting paid for this. I think Im going to have to delay my crossing into Laos so I can finish reading this tomorrow since I dont really have 4 hours of free time right now...Goo.

Ai Lao!!!

Thai people like so say this when someone is doing something really tacky (ugly clothes, blasting the car stereo, etc) and it essentially means "you are acting like a person from Laos" Theres a similar expression where you are acting like a person from Cambodia (same reference to your tacky behavior) but Lao is a more popular insult.

Oh that note: Im going to Laos this weekend! Im taking off tomorrow night, I think (Air Asia online is confusing me) and flying to Udon Thani. Going into Vientienne for the weekend then back to Nong Khai to see the Sala Kaew sculpture park. Rumor on the street is thats its really trippy. The sole purpose for my visit is so that I dont have to feel like I completely wasted my time buying a reentry permit. Although now that Im not renewing my work visa, I dont need it anyway. So hopefully there is something amazing in Laos to justify this adventure.
Another reason I debated going was my gym membership, which expires on the 24th. I didnt want to waste all those precious days since every one counts. But then I thought about it and I can go to a gym in the US - but I dont know if I have the motivation to fly across the world again just to go to Laos. Might as well strike while the irons hot. Besides, not matter how much time I spend at the gym Im still going to feel like the mayor of Blubbyville, Chunkleton once I get to Hawaii.

Upon my return I will attend a concert, see the dentist, go to Pattaya for some quality time with teacher Christopher, and pack my stuff/throw everything away.

Curtain Call

OK

Im moving back to the United States in June.
June 1st specifically, although Im flying to Hawaii for my vacation (I get a lot of vacation time huh?) before returning to the northwest on the 8th. Im sure this affects none of you, since I dont think any of my readership lives in the northwest and/or was planning to visit me in Thailand.
The gist is: dont send me anymore mail because Im afraid I wont be here to receive it.

And dont worry about the hamsters, they will live with my friend Art who promises to take exceptional care of them and watch them when they have sex. Gross, right?

I have a little over two weeks before I leave Chonburi for good. So if you want anything at all from Thailand please let me know. Its now or never, kids.

HAMTARO

I got hamsters. They are cute. I love them. I should have gotten them a couple months ago.

Their names are Kwan and Liam. They are the Thai equivolent of Romeo and Juliet (except Kwan was poor...but now Im just splitting hairs). A tragic love story. Cute.

They purposely gave me a male & female. Do the Thai people ever wonder where the legions of stray dogs in this country come from?

BMW Rally 2006

Youd think it was just another clever title but no...I truly went to the BMW Rally 2006 this weekend. Its just another thing that happened and I cant fully explain why.

Art sent me a text last week that said something to the effect of "car rally on saturday can you come? you should come i really want you to come". So Mr Egg & Ai-Mii were both going and I was like, "I guess if Im not sick there are worse things I could do with a Saturday".
Do you know what a car rally is? Because I dont. I was envisioning something like the boat show but for BMWs. A little trashy with like subwoofers and flashing headlights and things of that nature.
Art is a member of the BMW Society of Thailand and the proud owner of a Volvo (he gave the BMW to his sister but took it back for the rally), a fact I found to be endlessly amusing when he needed me to pick up the car from the lot where his sister was having it serviced. Driving it from the lot to Chonburi would have been funny if I hadnt been so terrified. I am by far the safest driver currently living in this country but those skills really only hurt me in the long run. Its like dealing with wild animals - if you show fear, they will eat you. Defensive driving was not working in my best interest and I was intimidated to say the least.

So Saturday at 5am dude picks me up at my house. Before we head out we have to eat some khao man gai and give offerings to the monks to ensure our safe journey. We arrived at the lot and waited around for about 3 hours before the rally "began". Im still not sure at this point how to tell the difference between a begun rally and a rally that has not yet commenced. We decorate the car with stickers and I check my email on his phone. I tried to talk to some of his friends and their girlfriends but no matter how many times I said "puut thai daai kha" they still looked at Art with eyes the size of saucers and told him that their English wasnt very good. It was frustrating for 8 in the morning.

Ok, so the rally starts. We get in the car and drive off the BMW Bangkok lot.
-Where are we going?
-The beach.
-Ok.

So we are going to a beach. I heard Petchaburi being thrown around and I have a rough idea of where that is. Soon we are heading out on the open road.
Once outside the city we pull up to where a woman in a red jacket is posted on the side of the road. I roll down my window. She hands me a map and says something in Thai, points a couple different directions, says goodluck and we drive away.
-What did she say, Art?
-I dont know.
-Super.

So I have this map with instructions and Art tells me that I have to "write down for the signs". I cant read the directions, or the map, and I have no idea what "signs" I am supposed to be looking for. After about five minutes of asking questions I just say fuck it & fall asleep. I wake up 30 minutes later and eat some food. We stop at about 2 other people in red jackets and I take the maps, nod my head, roll up the window and play with the radio or sleep.

At lunch time we pull up to the place where we eat lunch and I discover that we were supposed to be playing some sort of game. Art is telling everyone that he was too lazy to fill in the answers but Im pretty sure they all knew that his navigator is useless. So Im like, "now, we win." We get the new map and I make sure he explains the directions to me before we even get into the vehicle.
The signs I am supposed to look for are spray painted small blue letters and the instructions say exactly where they will be located (ex. on the pole @ 4.8km). When you find the letter you write it down and they tally the score based on how many you find. Even with me screaming about kilometers and drive slowly we still seemed to miss about four of the letters. It was somewhere between hilarious and totally mind numbing. I eventually fell asleep again.

Apparently, a rally is like a scavenger hunt. You get all these people who are part of this car club. They bring their BMWs and put stickers all over them and then drive down to Petchaburi and play this scavenger hunt/go to the wildlife reserve along the way. Theres also several Q&A sheets, which neither of us really knew any of the answers for because all the questions were either about BMWs or monkeys at the nature reserve. And the haole guy at the reserve spoke perfect Thai so I hated him and didnt want to walk with the group.

...Ok, in the interest of updating sometime this year Im posting this now.

The gist of the rest of the night was a big buffet dinner where they showed footage of the rally and played games, gave awards, etc. I was the sole female to participate in the beer drinking contest, which I think won me some friends. Although my team didnt win (Art's team won) I did get a free can of Singha. Kind of useless since I was all beer-ed out after the contest. I also did a straw drawing contest directly after that and it probably wasnt the best idea since I was being semi-beligerant to the hostess. I got all excited about pulling the shortest straw. Obviously, that means I lost but I didnt know it at the time. :(

We drove back the next day and went bowling in Bangkok with some people from the rally. It was really fun (cosmic bowling no less) but Im a fairly shitty bowler. I bought some fancy expensive eye cream at Boots to raise my spirits.

Alberto Ferret

Did anyone know that this is the name of a designer? I almost want his clothes just because his last name is Ferret! I still dont have the "love me, love my ferret" hoodie I was intent on buying last year (once I stopped being broke).

So this blog entry is late because I have spent the last two or three days lying in a pool of sticky, smelly sweat running a 103 degree fever and curiously evaluating all the new red bumps/bites/marks on my body with more than the appropriate amount of panic. I spent all day Monday reading through malaria information (four times). I am truly my father's daughter.

But now I feel better so let me tell you about my new gym. Although Im a bit angry at the gym right now, since this sickness began the night after I enjoyed a relaxing sweat in the sauna (I know that proximity doesnt necessarily indicate correlation but the impressions still there nonetheless) I want to sing the praises of the gym from the highest mountain peak.

I never joined the gym before because pauperly princess me wasnt about to spend 2000 of her hard earned baht on a treadmill when theres miles and miles of road to run on for free. So for the first five months of being here in Thailand I spent every other day trying to convince myself that its fun to run, which its not. And thats its not too hot outside, which it is. And that the stray dogs dont all have rabies, which they probably do.
Im frustrated with being sick and I figured that working out couldnt really hurt me. The weather is now such that to leave the house at high noon is certain death; running is out of the question for someone of my weak constitution. So in the interest of actually working out again before I die of old age, I just sucked it up and decided to join a gym. I literally walked into the closest gym, easily detectable by the "Aquarium effect" windows showcasing the huffing & puffing middleaged Thai women on eliptical runners, and said "how much?" I forked over the cash, 1300 baht for one month of 6am-10pm including some ubiquious "membership fee", and happily became a participant in the human (5k) race.
I chose the eliptical runner that is in the corner with windows on both sides and have consistently used that machine whenever I go. Its not for want to be seen, quite the opposite, I feel less conspicuous with my back to the room. Silly huh? Im shy.
So two days of using this runner and chatting with a trainer named Bee, who is so excited to speak English he can barely form the sentence "how are you?", led me to discover that there are FOUR FLOORS to the gym! Three entire floors I have never seen. It was like Christmas in July (or May)!!! The second floor has free weights and ab balls and whatever else and the third floor has the aerobics room and womens locker room (with steam/sauna/shower) and the fourth floor is the mens locker room. Please keep in mind that this is a very narrow building and quite modest from the outside so this discovery was like opening those Russian dolls and just finding more & more stuff inside! The part that I find the most giggle inducing is that I joined this gym under the impression that it was just a room with some treadmills, eliptical runners, a couple weight machines (which I never use) and a magazine rack! You can really only imagine my delight and surprise.
So now Im really into aerobics. Im a girl of many talents and dancing is unfortunately NOT one of them, but I can hold my own after several years of jazzercise with my older sister. The important thing is that its INCLUDED in my membership. And rightfully so. Now I feel entitled to all these things. Of course I get to use the steam room - I am a member.

The real point of this story is that Im becoming utterly spoiled in Thailand. Between the frequent doctor visits for trivial problems like fevers and earaches, tooth cleanings and cavity fillings at the dentist, and gym memberships with steam & sauna, I cant imagine living without these things. How did I ever do it? How have my teeth not crawled out of my head in search of an owner who would take proper care of them?
This morning I thought about going to the dermatologist to see about my funny bug bites. THE DERMATOLOGIST!!! A doctor who exists for the sole purpose of checking your skin! Its almost so extravagent I can barely admit that shes already treating my acne (which by the way, at this point is starting to just impress and inspire me with how diligent it is - its like a cockroach). I also need to get my eyes checked.
And why shouldnt I? I deserve to give my body the best. But what will happen to me when I return to the land of no insurance and privatized health care? What will happen to me once I see that Bally's is going to take 50% of my income in exchange for using their treadmills? I suppose these are all questions that can wait until October. But the uncertainty of the future, the reality of the impermanence of my good fortune, it haunts me...