CATCH ME IF YOU CAN

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

English 101

If there's anything Group 2 of my 2nd Year Class has learned this semester...

it's chillin' with the homies

19:26

...is the ratio of Skytrain McDonalds to Skytrain terminals in Bangkok

Thursday, February 10, 2011

that's not creepy, it's just Thailand...

a man, two dolls, and his van...

nahhh...

still sketchy.

February 12, 2011, marks my fourth monthiversary living in Thailand. Subsequently, this also means that for the last four months I have been homeless, but not Nathaniel Ayers pre-Downtown, LA-discovery-homeless. Instead, I use this term in reference to being without anything or anyone closely associated with home—LA, Monterey, my inner circle.

It’s not a bad thing.

I’d like to think that a temporary “farewell” or “see ya later” to all that is normal is part of the reason why people travel to begin with. It was for me anyway. There is one thing though: this headfirst dive into US homelessness has confirmed that although survival is possible without the warmth of security blankets, familiarity is certainly comforting. It’s like sticking to “the usual” at your favorite eatery or lying in your bed for the first time after a long weekend of traveling.

It just feels right.

In a lifestyle that has nowhere to go but charge forward, sometimes a tangible piece of home is the battery that keeps the motor running. This time last week, my best friend from college came out for a visit. Her presence was refreshing. AND to laugh uncontrollably for no apparent reason besides “we just get each other ” was exactly what I needed.

Home.

I will admit, though, that the mingling of Thailand and home is amusingly strange. While catching up on the floor cushions of Nap Park, I found myself muting her voice and just staring at her in the most-innocently-amazed kind of way.

She looks like Ellie...and sounds like Ellie.

Ellie’s in Thailand?

Ellie’s in Thailand!!!

a few highlights...

Ellie's first time on a motorcycle...

Bussin to Erawan Waterfalls

The Ellies

Tigers!

Loveeee her

She likes Thailand more...

Tuesday, February 1, 2011

If I feel like it.

Motivation keeps slipping out on me. Just when I think we’re making progress, he gets up and leaves. This week I planned on getting all the grading done for my second year class. Keyword being: planned. It’s Tuesday and I have yet to start. Eyes on the prize, right? Right! But that prize is a little hard to focus on when most of my body is covered with over 70 mosquito bites.

Did I stutter?

Yes, 70+.

Those d-bags really had their way with me then kicked me to the curb like I didn’t give them the best blood I could. Almost certain that at least one of seventy bites could lead to Malaria or Dengue, the first Monday morning task was: see a dermatologist.

Why is it that waiting in the doctor’s office is so much longer than the actual appointment?

I waited for about 30 minutes post routine procedures—taking blood pressure, weight, and allergies—when the doctor called my name, guided me to a room, looked at my battle wounds, and after 5 minutes was able to come to a conclusion: if I don’t experience random headaches or fever within the next week or so, I SHOULD be fine.

Yeah, reassuring indeed.

On the bright side, she hooked it up with some meds: Elomet* Cream (Mometasone Furoate), Startec (Cetirizine Dihydrocholride 10mg), and eight orange pills that shall remain nameless, not by choice but because, well…I don’t know it’s name nor it’s exact purpose. Wearing her white lab coat, she told me to take two tablets, twice a day. And so I did until they were no more. I’m sure if she told me to turn the dial, upping the electric voltage a person is shocked with, I’d probably do that too. (See: Stanley Milgram).

Anyway, pills got me sleeping like a baby, pushing grade inputting to next week?

If I feel like it.

Thursday, January 27, 2011

Recess!

6:45 morning alarm sounds.

“What the?! Already?”

(Snooze.)

6:55 morning alarm sounds.

(Snooze.)

7:45 morning alarm sounds.

Damn. You Work at 8, get up.

(Sighhhhh, rolls around)

Get up.

(Still fetal positioned, hands in prayer mode under my right cheek)

GET UP!

Okay, okay…I’m up…

I roll out of bed, tripping over a spilt pile of last night’s grading that I dumped on the side of my twin mattress; others in attendance to last night’s floor party were a couple of dirty tanks, my purse, and a lonesome sock. I pride myself on end of the semester cleanliness. I zombied my way out of Quarantine, my only source of protection barricading me from those winged bastards’ full-fledged attacks. I stand in place for a second but it’s long enough to feel the mirror staring at me with judgment.

Wow, YOU’RE a winner.

A mixture of last weekend’s shenanigans and teaching exhaustion perform undisguised numbers on my face--Crusted Eyes and their long time partner, Heavy Bags, headline with appearances by Nappy & Tangled, Dark Circles, and Dragon Breath.

I drag my feet to the bathroom and get ready.

The possibility of falling back into a deep slumber is ruined by an orchestra of Thai wildlife. At least that’s what I try to convince myself. It’s partially true. I’ve pondered the thought of installing padded walls as a result of the variations of high pitched birdcalls at consistent intervals and the incessant howling bouts between the rabid dogs on-campus, which go on at the most random parts of the day…and night for that matter. The redundancy and tragedy of this Thai musical make the walls seem like they are closing in, piercing my ears like Styrofoam on Styrofoam or a rake on concrete; going mad is just around the corner.

I need sleep…or the weekend…or which ever comes first.

It happens at the end of every school year, for students and teachers alike: burn out. Procrastination, quiet throughout the term, is now standing tall, cape flapping in the wind, and making its presence known. Stacks of ungraded class work, books, and doodled scratch paper clutter the desk, my mental Bitchwork List is getting too long to remember, and my friend, Motivation, seems to have stepped out for a cigarette.

Case of the Mondays?

No, no, case of the ending semester.

I need to power up.

This week marks the last set of classes for my second year students and Wednesday, February 2, is the last day of class for my first years AND I just received confirmation that my contract will end the last day of February, leaving me with two and a half months to play. Just a few more classes and a couple more hours from recess? Sounds good to me.

I just found my red mushroom.

Oh, hey, Motivation…