August 21st 2009 (part iv)

The most indelible aspect of our time at the ‘million years stone park’ can’t be pinpointed to one specific event. The tigers were a sight to be seen. The giant catfish scarred me more than fish ever should a man. The crocodiles...well, I think I’ve spoken of my awe and terror enough in their respects. I feel it a waste of time to describe the mediocre lunch we ate, the small shopping we did, or being picked up by a...perhaps there’s always time to indulge my rambling’s. An experience can go from unreal to out worldly in mere moments. Feeding the elephants was amazing enough in itself. We each grabbed a bunch of bananas, the small stubbies that I think are called plantains, and walked up over hesitantly to the marauding masses of fat. I found it interesting that the crocodile was so soft and that the worlds largest land mammal was so course. You can’t judge a book by its cover. It’s skin was rough and prickly. The hairs chaffed the skin immediately on contact. It had leathery sad skin that looked like it belonged on a depression era Okie. I couldn’t tell if they were as sedated as the tigers. They seemed a bit subdued, then again, I had always learnt that Asian elephants were far easier to break than their wild and un-domesticatable counter-parts in Africa. It definitely gave you a lonesome feeling, to see them chained around the ankle, held by a chain to a large stake in the ground. Feeding them was, interesting to say the least. I’d say they ate quicker than Greg and I could ever dream. As soon as you were done handing their oddly controllable trunk a banana it seemed to disappear into their mouths and be replaced, empty. Their wandering giant finger, hungry, always, for more. They were akin to a crack-fiend, never satisfied with the latest score. My favorite part was, hands down, feeding the baby. When I say ‘baby’ you must understand it was still larger than most horses. It seemed more playful though, more approachable by far, than its larger twins. I’ll admit, I really wanted to give it a big hug. It was the giant living stuffed animal I had always wanted from the zoo as a kid. When you go to the wild animal park as a child it seemed amazing to be so close to elephants. Previous encounters were only on tv, so being within seeing distance of the gentle brutes was amazing. Being this close brought me back to child-hood days again. Those of you who know me could call me a big kid...you should have seen me feeding the little critter! You know that joyful laugh you get sometimes, guttural but from the heart? The genuine laugh that can never be reproduced for a camera? Well, I was full of it. Something about the hungry lad scarfing unlimited bananas down his mouth brought me nothing but pure elation. Kelly decided to go for it. I was a little more hesitant. I found out that in Thailand elephants are not allowed to work. At one point-in-time their muscular bodies were overly exploited and life expectancy fell drastically. In today’s, dare I say modern, Thailand you’d be happy to know they’re only for entertainment and if you buy one, you have to own it for life. One elephant to one master. The two had a bond that eclipsed any human-animal relationship I had encountered before. I love my cat, but I often doubt if it loves me back. The master loved his pet, it brought him money and, no doubt, joy. The elephant loved his pet, it fed, washed, and took care of him. The mutually beneficial relationship was clear, although the emotions the two shared for one another still escapes me. Kelly paid one of the masters and he proceeded to shout and bark orders in Thai at one of the larger ones that was presumably his own. Did this thing speak Thai? It didn’t need to be whipped or scolded, pushed and bumped in the right direction. With a few simple voice commands the creature bumbled closer to poor frail Kelly. I must admit, I was a bit nervous. Quicker than you could imagine the elephant stuck out its long muscular trunk and picked Kelly up as if she were a piece of straw. It could have thrown her to the moon without a moments hesitation. She was 6 feet in the air being held up by the trunk of an Asiatic elephant. Did I just write that sentence? It feels fake when I think back to the day. I wasn’t about to look like a sissy, although my deeper natural instincts were still concerned that my brain had lost all forms of reason after sitting on that crocodile. It was so quick. Like jumping off a rock into water. Blood drained from my brain at the speed the massive creature picked me up. It was strange how much control it had over me, I didn’t need to balance or hold on. Kelly had decided to be picked up elegantly, like a lady, sitting gently on it trunk as she wafted in the air. I, however, decided to go the more perverted route and opted to have the trunk lift me up and present itself in a very straightforwardly phallic position. I was being picked up by an elephant and making a big wang joke at the same time? Do I even need to explain my pure bliss? More laughter. Although this time it may have been of a more sadistic nature. What? If my version of a great time doesn’t suit yours, than perhaps I should move on to the nights revelries. After a short break we decided to have a night out on the town in Pattaya. Let me tell you it didn’t take long to find the meaning behind the saying that I kept hearing throughout our days there... ‘good boys go to heaven, bad boys go to Pattaya’...

August 21st 2009 (part iii)

I should have been paying more attention. I wasn’t looking around with inspired awe at every aspect of my surroundings. I can’t give a very apt description of where we had found ourselves because I was so enthralled by a singularity. My surroundings were lost to a specific terror that laid out in front of my eyes. I can remember that it was cement stadium seating. Perhaps a crowd of thirty watched on with the same awe and terror as I. A Thai man, perhaps mid-thirties, tall and lanky, stood on a long cement island that jutted out from the two-three foot pool that surrounded him. It was about a quarter the size of an ice-rink, the exact same oval shape, with the same flimsy walls used to support those of us with weak ankles. Surrounding the mad-eyed lunatic were, at least, forty mid-sized to mammoth looking crocodiles. The man kept shouting out short bursts of who knows what in Thai. Immediately following every announcement he made, a similar voice would come up over the P.A. system and echo his thoughts in the same manner. I imagined they were having some sort of witty banter. A frenzied psycho and his hidden accomplice. Although it seemed more like the brainsick man was giving his last will and testament. One can only hope you’d give your last goodbyes before harassing a 10-foot prehistoric beast. He would crouch down, inches from impending death, and splash the yellowish water all over his face and body. I assumed this was to hide his ‘human’ smell, if you saw this water though, ughk! I would turn tail and get my ass out of that death pin in a heartbeat before I thought of drenching myself in their yellowish urine-croc water. After drenching his body and his red silk basketball get-up he’d splash with fury the stinking water all over a waiting crocodile. You almost had to see his next action to believe. He’d grab the giant by the tail. The monstrous leathery and muscular tail and literally drag them onto the island. Maybe I should repeat myself so it’s clear. He waded, time and time again, into crocodile infested waters and dragged them out by their tales. They weren’t entirely complacent either. He’d grab a larger one and it would struggle against his might. The strength needed to move one of the brutes must have been great, not to mention the fortitude needed not to crap your pants at any moments hesitation. A few of the crocodiles wouldn’t have it either. They struggled so violently that he’d give up, and move to a more complacent one. I, still to this day, can’t figure out why they didn’t just, literally, tear him a new one to stop his harassing pullings. Sure enough, he eventually found an 8-foot myth that suited his stylings, and dragged it to the middle of the island. What he proceeded to do next can only be called sheer madness. This man needed to be locked away for his own protection. Ranting and raving the entire time, with his cohort echoing every shout, he splashed the creature down, assumingly tormenting it until it opened its giant jaws. Apparently crocodiles are like old-men in the pool, they don’t like splash fights. He then splashed down the cement island and proceeded to drag off the five or so crocodiles that had tried to take refuge from the stinky water and crawled onto dry land. His pathway clear, he started shouting madly, waving his arms about and drenching his face, one last time, with the stink water. The moment of realization set in quickly, oh god no, was he about to do what I couldn’t even imagine. Before I could scream ‘don’t, please, no, don’t do it!’ he took off running towards the beast. Did anyone ever play with a ‘crocodile mile’ as a child? This gives a whole new meaning to the phrase. He slid on his belly some 20-ft., head first mind you, into the open jaws of the crocodile. I try not to curse to much, there are better uses for vocabulary, so excuse me as I digress. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!!! His slide was stopped from his head ramming into the throat of the awaiting jaws. I kid you not, I lost it. He proceeded to stick his head in the jaws, pick up a few and hug them like teddy-bears. He even shoved his fist and arm into the crocs throat until his shoulder all but disappeared. I can’t reiterate enough, these were wild animals, you could tell the ones that were dangerous because he never took his eyes off them. A few did not take kindly to his body even approaching them. I don’t know if they fed them all to the point of bursting, or if they were on crocodile oxycoton. Something about this man allowed him the bravery, and the creatures the calmness, to allow for horrifying sights to ensue. The care-free attitude he had was ridiculous. I came to find out later that there had been a horrible accident a few months earlier at the park where an employee was bit as his stuck some appendage into the jaws. Inevitability is a bitch. Tipping him, I thought the show was over, ‘buddy, you deserve a lot more than what they’re paying you’. Min came to tell me that the man believes he has magic powers to subdue the crocodiles. I lost it again. That’s what kept the things from eating him. Magic? I need to pay more tribute to the unknown. I almost didn’t do the next part. I consider myself a daring person at times. Perhaps even a little stupid thrown in the mix. But fear almost overcame my desire to get a picture next to one of the monsters. After paying the $3 fee I came to find out the picture wasn’t ‘next’ to the creature, but on top of it! Watching that line slowly fade was murder. About 6 people in all volunteered for the death task, you better believe I was last in line. I remember when it was down to me and an Australian man we both looked at each other with that ‘are we really about to do this?’ look. No incidents so far, some times life throws you problems of judgment, and you just have to say F’ it. I knew the monsters wanted to bite me, the employees were actually very careful to ensure we followed a tight line and didn’t wander too close to the infested waters. I didn’t trust any of my surroundings. My brain no longer trusted its own judgment. I was about to sit on a killing machine, I’ve seen that ‘death roll’ way to many times on TV to not be struck by utter panic. As I approached it you could see it breath, they seemed so lifeless before. So mechanical and evil. You could watch their giant chests retract and expand with remarkably quick significance. It almost panted like a dog...It was so soft, so worldly soft it surprised the hell out of me. It wasn’t a leathery spiny abortion, it was soft and spongy, the large crests on its back gave easily to my weight. It felt like a giant bean-bag full of dough. If I had closed my eyes I might have thought myself sitting on a body pillow. No sight in hell could make me close my eyes at this point though. I was living on a cloud, sitting on a being that had outlasted the dinosaurs. That hadn’t needed to evolve since it became perfectly balanced and adept at killing millions of years ago. This was something time had forgotten, this was a beast that terrified me so thoroughly. I never knew that I still had that portion of my brain. It must be leftover from our days as hunter gatherers. Far beyond ‘fight or flight’ this was ‘run run run’. I wasn’t frozen in time. It eclipsed that. It wasn’t fun but it wasn’t scary. It was a new emotion that normally only finds you in an instant. I was trapped in that moment you get as you loose control of your vehicle. As you find a spider in your shoe. As you begin to fall off your bike. That utter terror that, more or less, says, plainly, uh-oh... A minute felt longer than a day. My life felt like it couldn’t get any more surreal.

August 21st 2009 (part ii)

The entire time we spent at the 'Million Years Stone Park' you have to remember that I was constantly torn between a primitive and childlike fascination with the creatures we saw. Not so much as they were new and unknown, more because of the proximity with which we were allowed to interact, and the safety precautions, or lack-thereof, that guarded my wandering mind from wondering if I might just reach and out and capture a quick touch of the wild brutes. My fascination compelled me to pure ecstasy, my compassion, however, left a feeling of deep regret that I was helping to promote their captivity. The tiger cages were literally just that; not a giant guard rail, in front of a 30-ft. high steel cage, in front of a 12ft. moat followed by 2inch thick glass. Just steel posts and metal mesh. Excuse me, thin metal mesh. They looked more like a giant bird-cages rather than holding pins for 350-pound ravenous carnivores. To say you could reach in and touch one would not give justice to the limited security provision provided by the establishment. I could have jumped in and tried to ride one. Maybe we give idiots and luny-birds too much protection in the U.S... they certainly leave a great amount of personal accountability in Thailand. I couldn’t help but compare all the great cats to my own little terror waiting half way around the world. Bored and lonely at our empty house. Maybe I’ll get chided for talking too much about my damn cat, but every tiger I looked at reminded me of rebel. Am I lame or what? They didn’t have the same playfulness in their eyes though, that big-eyed stare that lets you know they mean trouble by means of rowdy play. I came to find out it was because these great cats were heavily sedated, heavily sedated and tightly chained. Pacing back and forth endlessly, staring off into the distance with that serial-killer icy glare. The tail didn’t twitch around, the ears weren’t perked up at attention. I had expected Shere Khan, a magical monster born of my youngest memories. What I saw was another thing that would never make it back in the states. A blatant disregard and mistreatment of some of natures most glorious animals. PETA would have shit their pants. All my sadness and regret came from the tigers and the bears. You could see the sadness in their eyes; see the torn and downtrodden expression on their constantly pacing shoulders. I felt bad seeing the repression. I had little emotional attachment, however, save intense fear, for the large leathery crocodiles that seemed completely devoid of all emotions. Their eyes gave no expression, they gave me the same gut feeling as a large spider, or snake...robots hell-bent on biting you in the most uncomfortable ways imaginable. All this in mind, and our feeding frenzy from moments earlier as a precursor, we headed for our next stop. The crocodile show...

August 21st 2009 (part i)

We woke up with the sun, it was easy to go to bed and wake up early the first week of our trip. I think I finally became used to the time change a few days before our return trip, just enough time to make my first few days back in SLO that much more slumberful. Before our days plans with Min we headed off in the direction we were, fairly, certain the beach was. Only a few blocks away the aqua blue water looked marvelous in the mornings first rays. A long white sand beach stretched out for miles. The water looked clear and drinkable as it splashed almost waveless against the shore. I had to go in. It felt colder than imagined, I pictured bath water from what Kelly had told me, a scalding temptress that could never cool you enough to stop the sweat. It was warm, just no jacuzzi. The water felt unreal. Kelly was right, not a wave in site. I had laughed when she said I might not get the chance to try surfing in Thailand. Thai women watched their toddlers play in the shallow water with little to no hesitation. I almost thought them bad parents for allowing their young ones to play so unhindered in the dangerous ocean. Naked and full of laughters the small tan hooligans frolicked with no fear of the water. What the hell were their parents looking for in the sand? constantly digging for sea shells or hidden gold, if their actions were economically or boredom triggered I don't know; but I can still feel the wonderment at their plain indifference to their two-year-olds water safety. Worry-wort Winston from America. Sometimes you can't help it. We didn't have much time to linger at the beach, consuming as it was, we had a big day planned. After a quick, and still rather plain, breakfast we headed back to the hotel and waited for Min's arrival. It certainly was an eclectic crew we drove with that day. Min, and her niece, along with young girls maid and babysitter, Kelly and I. This filled up the cab of Min's truck more than comfortably. So in the bed of the truck went this couple who were friends of Min's. A neurotic man who spoke too quick for language from new York, and his Thai wife and small baby. The relationship between the two still fascinates Kelly and I. How you could fall in love with someone, and even have a child with them, yet not be able to say more than 30 words to each other? So the father, his soon to be wife, and infant son sat in the bed of the truck while Kelly and I sat in the A/C cab, seat belts and all. I quickly came to learn that safety standards in Thailand are a bit different from what I was used to in California. It wasn't rare to see a husband,wife, and child combo scrambled onto a moped, the back of a truck was no oddity whatsoever. Our destination was called "The Million Years Stone Park & Pattaya Crocodile Farm". Another thing I quickly came to learn, don't give broken english on signs a second glance, you'll end up seeing something worth a picture eventually. I never really figured out what the 'million years stone' was all about, giant rocks was about the farthest thing on my mind when I heard we may see some crocodiles. There were a lot of petrified tree stumps littered throughout the park, their ages varied between pre-christ to semi-prehistoric. But like i said, I just wanted to see some crocodiles. My first impression of the park wasn't exactly pure excitement either. It didn't have a grand entry-way like the Wild Animal Park or a massively dominate parking lot like the San Diego Zoo. A father-time security guard watched over the 40-or-so cars in the small parking lot. The actual park seemed empty, I think we, in one truck load, doubled their attendance for the day. The first stop on our tour of the park was to feed giant catfish. First impressions stuck with me, these 'giant' catfish seemed no larger than usual, a bunch of coy in a mad frenzy every time you threw a handful of the stinky food. It always left your hands smelling like shit all day long. For a few minutes a stood there holding back sassy comments as my disappointment precluded any fun I could have been having. It was weird when I finally saw one, I thought it would be the only one I'd see all day. Giant indeed, these things were more whale than fish. The 2ft coy would suddenly burst out of the way on the surface of the water and in that particular spot a 4ft, at least, giant catfish would surge to the surface and scoop up everything in its path. Their mouths looked as big those nets you use to skim out a swimming pool. The first few we saw brought bursts from our crowd that is akin to a group of girls on a whale watching tour. "oohhh" and "ahh" at every sight of the giant monsters. Randomly, as if they could all communicate, the coy would disappear and forty to fifty of the largest fish I've ever seen would all erupt onto the surface, clearing it of every speck of debris possible. More than anything I couldn't help but think of swimming in Thailand. I had planned on jumping into some rivers, definitely snorkeling in the near future. Were creatures like these waiting for me as I dove into unknown waters? If a group of fish this massive suddenly swam up all around me I think I'd be buying a new bathing suit memento. It's funny, thinking back to that morning I could have stayed in that spot all day. The day wasn't too particularly hot or sticky, and the sight of these giant fish definitely had me glued to the surface of the water only a few feet below the wooden, janky, platform that held us barely above the water. I'm glad Min dragged us away, the park was 3 places in one. Botanical garden, zoo, and amusement park. The strange birds and Asiatic bears the had in cages were fascinating. One giant bird, with a beak like a samurai sword, had a particularly nasty disposition, and loved to look straight into the eyes of the little baby. I could tell if there encounter weren't protected by some thin metal wire, that small infant would be the preferred next meal of the grossly pterodactyl that starred at us all with in-humane eyes. So far nothing seemed too special. We took enough photos to start annoying the carp out of me. The fish were cool, and it was pretty odd how close you could get to all the animals. No guardrails or safety nets, not even any staff to yell at those daring enough to stick their fingers in the cages. I could tell an idiot could loose a couple fingers no problem. Our next exhibit was something I'd simply never seen in any of my previous travels. I took a trip for a few weeks to Florida once with my grandpa. I remembered being shocked that we could walk over metal planking that held crocodile infested waters. We were probably 10 feet up, with a thick mesh covering metal wires to protect any guest from ever trying to stick an appendage or stick into the waiting jaws of one the reptiles. I can't reiterate enough. We weren't in Kansas anymore. We had stopped on metal planking perhaps 4, maximum of 5 feet above the water. There were no safety nets, no trappings and danger signs. Right below our feet in Kool-aid green water were hundreds, literally hundreds, of crocodiles. Not so much moving or thrashing about, just bobbing enough out of the water to get a good sense of how frightfully massive the dinosaurs were. Nostrils and a pair of giant eyes were all you could see of some of them. They looked jagged and angry, hungry for flesh to say the least. The woman behind a small cardboard counter handed me my 'pole' after I'd paid the $1.50. It was a bamboo stick about 4 feet long, with a long hairy and frayed rope attached to one end. At the end of that rope was a skinned and delicate dead chicken, not frozen. You could feel and smell that these birds were definitely fresh. I think I had even ohh'd and aww'd at some of its cousins scrambling freely throughout the parking lot. I don't know if I'm a wuss or perhaps just a bit hesitant at times. But the lack of direction got to me at first. What the hell was I supposed to do. I could guess. Was this safe though? You eventual had to take an F-it attitude to a lot of the experiences in Thailand. Learn by doing type of thing. Dive right in. I hung the chicken about 3 feet above the water. The giant started to move, but there wasn't a feeding frenzy like I expected. I didn't really know what to expect, I'd never seen or heard of crocodile fishing. There disinterest in the chickens at first led me to believe that the beasts were constantly fed. believe it or not, I came to figure out that the cold-blooded killers were just lazy, they never really went for the chickens unless you dangled the dead carcass inches from the water. Damn things ended up wanting a free meal. Needless to say, we made them work a little bit for it. I don't need to describe to you the massive size or shape, pretty standard for crocodiles. The color surprised me, they ranged from a dirty Gatorade yellow to slimy pond green. The ridges and bumps covering their bodies gave them a drastically reptilian complexion. It was so eerie how they moved without moving. Their formless bodies seemed to float closer to the chicken with each lowering of the rope. You couldn't tell when they were about to strike. It wasn't like a frog or a grasshopper sharpening the angle of its legs. It didn't look earnestly at its prey like a soon-to-pounce cat watching a mouse. With no remorse or warning sign, the gargantuan jaws would simply burst from the water. The sound is something that shall never leave me. A popping thud that gave the distinct feeling of perfectly fit jaws. Like a clap when your two hands come together perfectly cupped. The noise came more from the air being moved so quickly, the jaws forcing hot breath out at the last instant with such fury it made your heart skip a beat. I felt guilty teasing them, like karma wouldn't appreciate me teasing a predator that could so easily take my life. They humbled you with the sound of those jaws closing. It made the baby cry...shit, I felt like crying a little. That nervous laughter we all need to do sometimes instinctively came out. I felt like my mind and heart were torn into battle. Is this exciting and fun? Or do I need to be changing my droors? Was this the kind of life a crocodile would want? Should I feel bad by them being captive? I was depressed to see such a prehistoric monstrosity held in such tight quarters? Did they mind? I'd only seen a few crocodiles in the past, they always seemed to be lone, solitary, carnivores. Here I was, teasing something that hasn't seemed to evolved in 60 million years. There had to be a hundred floating all about, making no noise except the terrifying thungk of their jaws clapping shut. My frail human arms would be screaming if I fell into that water. I shudder to think what type of experience it would be. To be face to face with something that primordial, something so pure and raw, a creature designed perfectly for slaughter. 'Planet Earth' does a great job of showing you what they look like. Nothing short of standing feet away from their death roll can describe the pinch in your gut from that sound. Like a bullet into soft wood their teeth lined up in razor sharp procession. I was sure this was the thrill of my lifetime, hands down the coolest thing I'd do in Thailand. Hindsight is so good at letting one giggle at their own naivete. This was the closest I could ever imagine being to something so deadly. Imagination sometimes fails to instill in one a very good sense of premonition. With this deadly game of cat and mouse as our precursor, we moved on to the next exhibit. It was time to go see a Crocodile show.

August 20st 2009

Last night we landed in Bangkok. The air was hot, not as humid as I had imagined, but it felt like a warm Paso day. A dry heat that hit you like a wall climbing off the over-air-conditioned plane. Climbing into the taxi waiting to drive to Pattaya, I could feel that the transition from cool California days to hot Thai air might take a while. I was told jet lag is a lot worse if you think about the time where you came from, you had to think about where you were. 2 am in Thailand is about noon back in California, nap time after 2o+ hours of traveling was no problem at all. Waking up at the Peace Resort, I couldn't help but feel excited to get outside and experience...anything. The night and early morning had produced a rain and lightning show that impressed me even in the deepest slumber. You can always spot tourists by the way that look in every direction. The awe I had with every sight, Kelly didn't seem as phased, I just loved to see and compare. The Thai Spirit houses fascinated me, all houses and most businesses had two right next to one another. Small decorated wooden houses that looked like a doll-house or giant bird feeder. A taller one as a tribute to the Sky god and a shorter smaller one as a tribute to the Earth God. I read that this is a tradition borrowed from Hinduism in ancient times and is today found mainly in Thai culture. They gave them food, burned incense, gave drinks, and even little figurines. All the drinks had straws, offerings for the gods to please themselves. Everyone who lived in Thailand seemed to love straws, they always gave you a sickening glance if they saw you drinking straight from a water bottle or soda. As a result, their Gods would, naturally, use them strictly as well.95% of Thai people are Buddhist, umm, I read Siddhartha in high school... We were definitely in a different place. An unknown culture that we had to tread very careful in. I tried to remember to stay mindful. Buddhists believe the head is the highest, spiritual, part of your body and you're never to touch anyone on the head. We weren't supposed to ever point our feet at anyone either, this was considered a great disrespect. Just had to be a little more careful, I guess you can eventually end up offending anyone with the right unknown behavior. I'll admit, the first breakfast I had was pretty timid, nothing compared to some of the stranger meals I had throughout my three weeks among the Thai cooking. Kelly and I were wholly convinced our first activity would be to get a massage. Thai massage is heaven, pulling all your joints this way and that and working out kinks with elbows and knuckles. Two-hours on the table is about as good as it gets after so many damn hours on half a dozen different types uncomfortable of chairs. Planes, cars, airports... It didn't take long to get into that nice, vacation, feeling. Min, our host, took us all around Pattaya. We'd met because she'd married the uncle of one of Kelly's grad student class-mates. As stretched a socialtree as it seemed, I turned out to appreciate her gratitude more than words can express. We were in a beautiful beach town about two hours South of Bangkok along the Gulf of Thailand. Pattaya in known as the Las Vegas of Thailand. It took me a few days to figure out why. Aside from obvious language differences, the town didn't seem too different from any other city. Although, I must admit I don't think I've ever seen so many 711s'. Everywhere! If I ever get any money, remind me to invest in a Thai convinience mart. If it isn't 711 it's a 'family mart', on, almost literally, every block. I never realized the love appeal. My entire trip, I still can't figure it out. Nothing out of the ordinary, not a super-cheap miniature grocery store, just a plain 711. At least on every two blocks. She showed us most of the main streets on the city and the 711s stuck out the most, that and stray dogs running all about the streets. I couldn't stop looking out the car window, like a kid on a field trip. Every sight and sound fascinated me because I wanted to validate if it reminded me of something I knew from home. The first day wasn't easy, Jet lag got to Kelly and I both. Guess our behavior wasn't too out of the ordinary. Not the first time Kelly and I have been too tired to stay out past 9pm. The one thing of note was the 'all-you-can-eat' sushi. Kelly had warned me that you can't order comfort food like it's from home because it wouldn't taste remotely like something you once knew it. Sushi came around on plates carried by a circular conveyor belt. Nothing to unfamiliar. The sushi, however, was more raw cuts of random meat, rather than the petite rolled rice creations I'd known from home. We were each sat at a long connected bar in front of a boiling hole of soup. Waiting for a fresh and safe piece of meat to ramble by was hopeless, we just dove in and threw guess-work meat into our individlual witches pots. I know I had some shrimp, some squid maybe; chicken, a little beef, some type of white lard-like meat that had a texture only a gagging throat can describe. All in all I rather enjoyed myself, I couldn't tell you the names of half of what I ate, but it didn't upset my well-known-baby tummy much. Bedtime came quickly and Neededly, Min had our next day planned, I think I had the energy. I hoped I had some energy. For the time being, the bed felt extra firm and just to my liking.

September 10th 2009 'One Night in Bangkok...'

Our last night in Thailand feels more than surreal. Feels dreamlike, as if I constantly get the sense of deja vu. Our entire trip has been surreal. I've always held on to one of those corny Latin saying's from high school, the kind that stays with your memory no matter how hard life tries to erase it. :"post coitum omne animal tristis est". It speaks of the all too common experience all human encounter at almost every turning of the day. After an intense and eagerly anticipated moment, we often feel that we have missed something greater that remains just beyond our grasp. It just comes naturally from anticipation. Try as you might, getting an pre-image into your head of events to come leaves you breathless when it is all said and done. What could we possibly do in Bangkok tonight? I've fished for crocodiles with dead chickens, even sat on one. Pet tigers only inches from my face, protected only by a thin metal chain. Been picked up by elephants and ridden through the densest jungles on one of the behemoth's backs. I've been blessed by a Buddhist monk at a Wat that Siddhartha's very bones are said to be burried, the holiest of holy shrines for Buddhist world wide. I've watched monkeys swim, play basketball, ride bicycles, and sell me magical ointment... I even gazed into the eyes of one of their babies as it did back flips off my hand for food. I've strolled through jungles filled with bananas, Hibiscus,orchids, plumeria, Lotus, Heliconia, and Ixora. I've chased 1m long geckos from my Bungalow. Swam with sharks and Puffer fish. I've escaped death flying through the air ejected from the seat of my motorcycle. I've been to strip clubs where women washed each others feet in some bizarre sexual ritual that escapes my grasps. I've eaten squid, bugs, and fish meat straight from the bone..whole at times even. I've trekked through jungles that most foreigners never set foot on. I've danced around coral islands in crystal blue waters. Taken photos in front of trees older than Christ. Taken a bamboo ride down a swollen and much too dangerous river. Spoken with hill-tribe members that grow only enough food to live off. Seen waterfalls that overflowed with some mysterious and all too gracious effect. Caught spiders larger than my hands. Eaten mushrooms on a beach that belongs in some Leonarod Dicaprio movie set. Kayaked under massive sea cliffs that turned instantly from clear water, to exposed limestone, to lush jungle. I've watched strange and foreign birds glide majestically through the air. Played the drums with a Thai band. Sang at the top of my lungs with the Irish. Stayed in a hotel fit for a king. And experienced it all with a woman I'm certain I want to live the rest of my life with. As Bradley says 'what may be and must be, is.' this trip has been more than expectation could ever take for granted. What's left to do...the darkest sin that hell ever made. I suppose even the devil will be saved at last, so I take Occums razor by the blade and head for a ping-pong show, the one thing Bangkok has left to offer, and the last thing we'll see in Thailand...

September 8th 2009 'fish in the water'

Like most experiences thus far on our trip, it wasn't what I expected it to be. You get this idea in your head, these visual flashes picked up over a lifetime of second hand experiences. Watching television, movies, or seeing pictures creates a jaded image of reality, a smorgasbord of colliding pictures that forms a twisted and grotesque version of the truth. I had always imagined them a lot slower, bulbing masses of gruesome fat thrashing about in the ocean. I had pictured a slow moving fin erupting out of the water and an ever present Steven Spielberg soundtrack drilling on in the background. Duh-duh, slowly at first, booming and threatening. duh-duh, with more sound and intensity the music would gather rhythm as the rear fin slowly started to push itself out from the water. I imagined myself floating in the salty sea and watching the prehistoric beast off in the distance devouring some helpless and unknowing fish. Duh-duh,duh-duh,duh-duh...the music would explode just as the massive jaws seemed to jump from the beasts lips and completely devour,whole, the unsuspecting prey. It was just like 'Jaws', just like 'Deep Blue Sea', it was just like 'Planet Earth' and every other overly-dramatic piece of entertainment I'd watched over the last 24 years. It had to be like the movies, it had to be like television...right? With these jaded notions in my mind I floated on the surface of 'Shark Bay' just off the coast of Koa Tao. I watched the distance with scanning eyes; you could see 40 yards quite well in these crystal clear waters. I could even make out, far in the distance, some of my fellow snorkelers who loomed closer to the boat for fear of something going awry. I had charted off quite a ways from everyone else, staying close to the rocks. Sharks never attacked people near the rocks... Our guide had been quite clear that the sharks we were diving with, Black-tipped Reef sharks, were very friendly, mostly feeding off small fish and growing to about 1m at max. What I had failed to hear in my excitement to jump off the boat, to be the first in the water to see one, was that they preferred life in the shallows. My personal logic and half-wit movie experiences had forced me to believe that I was in the safest place, I would see the massive creatures from a distance, a safe one, a very distant distance that would put me as an observer, not another member of the food chain. When you're looking so hard for something specific, you really start to loose track of whats right in front of you, what's right below you. We were treading water over a marvelous coral reef, exotic fish and strange sea beings swam and floated all around me. Schools of fish danced brilliantly ands glimmered, catching the foggy sunlight so perfectly in their moments of brightness. I wasn't looking for any of these, I had my eyes set for a three foot, noisy splashing shark. One that would make its presence very known, a lone predator off in the distance searching for something that could never resemble my damaged and scabbed up knees. (scabs that seemed to be slowly dissolving in the giant blue saline solution I'd emerged them in) It happened so quick... It was faster than an ocean bird darting into the water... it was faster than a race car whizzing past at the Santa Maria speedway... faster than any fish I'd ever seen...The sound it made? The splashing? Nothing...just silent, quick, and seemingly motionless. There wasn't one, there were two, swimming side by side...They weren't small either...Both were easily longer than my lanky and exposed body...my lanky, exposed, bleeding and wounded body... my fresh as a dead fish body...floating slower than any other prey they might venture towards... I never saw them coming, I didn't hear splashes form behind me, didn't see the fin slowly pop up from the water, didn't hear the jaws soundtrack blaring through distant speakers...I was giving up on seeing one and distracted by the vibrant coral colors that were mere inched from my feet. Watching some unknown fish scamper about picking at the soft white sand. The fish didn't all dart away scarred before they came...there was absolutely no warning sign that the creatures were coming up behind me. God almighty was I in shallow water...And they had come from behind me!!! In what? maybe three feet of ocean current... they didn't thrash about, they weren't lumbering and clumsy giants like the speculation of movies. They barely moved their fins and soared through the water like silent torpedoes. Mouths closed with no teeth exposed, the two beats seemed perfectly streamlined for ocean killing. The two perfect predators passed me without a moments hesitation, if they had wanted I'm sure I could have lost a hand. At, at least, six feet each they were larger than I imagined, not like an over sized barracuda, but fuller in the middle, like a nuclear submarine. I didn't even have time to be scarred, they small by so quickly it has compounded my fear of the oceans perfect killers. No warning, no movement, and not caring about my presence in the least. They didn't care about the fish that swam all about, or my bleeding knees that dangled like bait in the water. These two Jurassic titans came and went in such an instant. I watched them swim away so quickly, they barely moved their bodies, but oh my goodness did they have speed such as I've never seen. Dead eyes starring at nothing, not moving, not twitching, not seeming to notice my frail body. It was too fast to be afraid in the moment, it was almost unbelievable. I had seen what i came looking for, I can only wonder if they felt the same...

September 4th 2009. 'full moon party'

The techno music was blinding and the flashing lights engulfed every aspect of the small tropical paradise we had stumbled upon. A great transformation had taken place in mere hours, we had found ourselves directly in the middle of it. White sand beach to rave central before the sun set. I had always heard the full moon party was a 'must-do' experience in Thailand. How great could another party be? It was with some reluctance that I agreed with Kelly that we should attend the nights festivities. It was on the beach...didn't sound too intriguing to my delicate sensibilities. I found myself, however, almost instantly, engulfed in the madness. I can't help but reflect that a party of this caliber would never make it in San Luis Obispo, a fight or drunken rowdiness would no doubt break out within mere minutes of its beginnings. Everyone seemed to be there for one reason... to have fun and enjoy the night. Gone was the feeling of fear and trepidation that normally follows even going to a bar in SLO or some other American city. Here were 10,000 people from all walks of life and all corners of the world gathering on a beach to simply have a good time. To dance the night away and bathe in the afterglow of the nights revelries. We were neck deep in the crowds of thronging youth, pulsing to the ecstatic beats of the blaring music. 'Do you want a break?' asked our traveling companions in their charming Irish accents. So with only the smallest amount of hesitation we headed for the the south side of the beach to the 'mellow mountain' bar; A small hillside bungalow filled with floor mats and strange travelers who seemed to laugh at lifes every moment. 'you have to try there specialty shake, it's to die for' insisted Fiona our Irish counterpart who seemed to know the beach much better than Kelly and I. After coughing an astonishing 500 Thai baht up (about 15 dollars) I was awaiting the most glorious fruit smoothy I'd ever encountered. What was handed to me was a black sludgy concoction that smelled and, believe me you, tasted just like hangover shits smell. 'why the hell did I just pay a nice hotel nights stay for this garbage shake?' I asked with the smallest amount of anger. 'wait thirty minutes and you'll see' was all Fiona could reply with. Mind you, I used to enjoy the occasional psychedelic in my younger college days, but that was always with a great amount of expectation, never did a mushroom trip find my swelling mind unannounced. I wish i could tell you all every detail from that night, explain to you the way the trees bended and the lights all faded into one another. The insane laughter that over took us all as we painted our bodies with glow-in-the-dark paint. The constant feeling that an unknown force was about to suck me into the earth, or the extreme anxiety I felt every time some thai man tried to offer me his giant iguana of boa constrictor to hold for small price and instant picture. It wasn't heaven or hell I traveled to that night. My mind cooked in an all night fever as sensations became something entirely new. Perhaps I've said too much, wandering eyes may not enjoy reading the full details of the nights explorations. After all what happens at the full moon party stays at the full moon party.

September 3rd 2009

My shoulder ached so bad. My knees wanted to break at the joints. Of course I decided to go on this damn hike. I couldn't help but think of Kelly back on the beach lounging on her towel in the hot Thailand sun. here I was drenched in my own sweat, at least half a mile below the earths surface. I should have known after hearing 'does anyone want to go see cave?' that only myself and one other tourist would sign up for such a daring journey. Our guide spoke better English then the Austrian fellow who had tagged along. Three of us, A shoeless Thai man named 'Eddie' this Austrian guy, and my injured self. Why do I get myself into these situations? 'one moment sirs, I must lite candle'. We had climbed for at least 30 minutes down treacherous boulders. I thought we'd already seen the cave, we;'d been in a giant chamber for quite a while, what else could there be. The small tanned man crouched low to the earth an proceeded to pull three small, home-made, wax candles from beneath a small rocky hiding place. After what seemed like hours of sweating he had them all lit. 'follow me. please to watch your step'. Watch my step? If I went the wrong direction was I going to fall into an unknown precipice? Should I have kissed Kelly goodbye? I felt like at any moment molten lava was going to swell up form the earth and burn us all in our footsteps. God-damn it was hotter than hell in this cave. We started to walk into the darkness, the sheer utter darkness. The kind of dark that sends shivers down your spine, where nothing but small one-inch candles could ever eradicate. I couldn't see more than a foot in front of me. We walked for days, I only following the glowing worm about ten feet in front of me, carefully placing my every step, careful not to fall into the dark abyss I knew loomed around my every foot print. I kept checking back to my Austrian counter-part, he seemed to be moving, somehow, slower than my injured self. Only his glow-worm candle showed me he still had sings of life in his steps. Where was this 'eddie' taking us, it was hotter than a fucking dragon's laire in this god-forsaken cave. I knew a giant reptilian scale was waiting around every corner, breathing fire on unsuspecting foreigners indulging themselves on the caves sheer mysteries. 'please sir look'. I had been looking this entire time, nothing but limestone walls starred back at me, what sight could be worth seeing this deep into the unknown? Just as my bitter resentment was about to take over the urgee to keep walking our guide flashed his candle towards the wall. A million diamonds brighter than a mountain sky shined back in glorious illusion. A twinkling brightness like I'd never seen, as if you could reach out and touch the glorious dazzling array. I felt like a Hollywood star walking down the red carpet, with a billion flash bulbs burning brightly in my face. The walls glittered so magnificently it brought tears to my eyes. Over the millenia as water slowly trickled down the limestone cliffs, small deposits of minerals broke away and landed themselves firmly upon the caves walls. it created such a dazzling smorgasbord of twinkles I could never fully describe it in words. God itself couldn't create something so beautiful. It was a familiar face on a warm Sunday morning. It was mom's hug after a scabbed knee. It was all the things in life that make it worth living. It wasn't a sight, it was a welling of emotion. A thirty foot canvas that Divinci himself couldn't fathom. A dreamy night sky. A last moments caress. The feeling of being safe. My heart burst and was left on the wall of that cave. It wasn't a sight, it wasn't a feeling, it was the knowledge that we had stumbled upon something too glorious for human eyes, to magnificent for human words. This was a cave of dreams and wonder. This was more than a sight, it was a feeling.

August 21st 2009 'dream within a dream'

Was this man for real. His silly red jumpsuit didn't fool me... did he really think he had magic powers? There I was, middle of the afternoon, at the Pattaya crocodile farm starring at a mid 20's Thai man about to stick his fucking head down the throat of a ten foot crocodile. It's like people who go to the races, you don't want to see one, but in the back of your mind you hope to witness some horrific crash. I was about to watch a man become decapitated. This lumbering dinosaur was about to rip his head clean off...and to think the idiot was doing it willingly... seconds felt like days as I watched him slowly arc his neck into the beasts mouth. There was no safety net, no precautions, no one there to help him if the beast got an itch on its massive mayonnaise colored tongue. I felt a rip in my stomach. I was a million times more frightened than this cocky Thai son-of-a-bitch. Is this how he makes his living? life between 400 hundred razor sharp teeth. Only an hour before I had fished for Crocodile in a giant lake, dead chickens tied by strings to the end of bamboo sticks were offered for only 70 cents a piece. Amazing what the U.S. dollar could get you in this country. Hanging off a dock we played with them, smacking them in their giant reptilian noses, trying vainly to get some action out of the gigantic beasts. The noise they made when they erupted from the water. it was never the crocodile you hung the chicken in front of, his unknown partner always lurked beneath the water and lurched out at your unsuspecting rod. Had I really 'fished' for crocodiles? The noise of there jaws shutting... like the auto-pitcher at the batting cages, or perhaps more like smacking the metal bottom of a pringles can. it was so powerful, so ferocious, so animalistic...It scarred me shitless! i had teased the beasts only an hour before. Now I was starring at a complete lunatic about to stick his fucking head down one's throat. it's a dream dream dream. This can't be real, no human being would ever actually think they had the magic ability to calm the giant carnivore. No one would willingly stick their fragile human neck down one of these eating machines giant throats...It wasn't quick...it was painfully slow... he left his head on the giants tongue as if it were a soft silk pillow...get the fuck out of there!! you are a complete idiot!!! you're going to die!!!someone stop this raving lunatic!! magic isn't real you harry potter mother fuc ....He survived...confident and smiling the stupid son-of-a-bitch actually lived through it. Trained professional...yeah right, how the hell do you train to become a complete mad-man, only lunacy would drive a man to such lengths... "Okay ladies and gentlemen, for only 100 baht (about 3 bucks) you can come sit on it"... My heart stopped dead in its beats as Kelly and Min both looked at me. 'you gotta go do it George' no no NO NO NO my mind yelled, adrenaline went straight through me. 'come on, no one gets hurt'... yeah no one gets hurt getting in a swimming pool full of 50 swelling monsters from my worst nightmares.........The line of people in front of me slowly dwindled, was I really next?...... It was much longer than 10 feet, it was the size of a god-damn school bus, what's worse? They some how kept the beast sitting there still with it's mouth wide open, teeth displayed ready to rip my soft flesh into a million little pieces. I had paid three dollars to get eaten by some creature that belonged in the Jurassic. This thing wasn't even from our planet..."Here sit, sit , sit, it's okay" They pointed towards it rear legs...I had to clear my mind, I was about to die, I was about to be eaten...goodbye mom I love you...goodbye world and hello fierce beast....I began to crouch over the beast...I was not ready to die..slowly, painfully...this couldn't be real.

August 19th, 2009 'Don't push the button!'

The flight wasn't as bad as I thought. We left L.A. on time and flew with the trade winds, arriving in Tokyo almost an hour ahead of schedule. Ten and half hours on one flight goes by quicker than you'd imagine, and the plane was so roomy for coach...am I laying the sarcasm on thick enough? I can't complain about the service, the stewardess were very nice, the food wasn't dog-shit either. My one complaint? The most over-rated drug on the planet! Viccodin never really helps me sleep, only turns me into a chatter box impossible to shut-up. Never liked Valium either and Perceset makes me tweaked out of my skull. With all this in mind I did my best to get a hold of some Ambien. One pill each, a little pink bastard for me and one for Kelly. Perhaps its because my expectations were so high, I had always heard you hallucinate from the stuff because it makes you so tired, I'd always heard that in 20 minutes from swallowing the little monster you'd be out colder than an Eskimo's freezer...Bullshit, I didn't even get drowsy, in fact, I think it kept me from getting even a wink of sleep. Wide awake, wide awake wide awake. of course I packed my god-damn books into my checked baggage, and of course I'd seen every movie they had to offer. I watched '17 again' have you ever seen this movie? Probably not, because it was the worst pile of tripe I'd ever encountered. A teeny bopper shit show starring zach effron and that funny bull-shit lady from role models...I digress though, must look on the sunny side, we made it right? One piece, no turbulence, and it was my first time in Tokyo. Japan, the land of the rising sun. Really nice airport too, we had some fantastic food, and its so fun to get even simple things like shopping receipts when they're littered with forgien characters I can't even begin to understand. My first cultural experience was going smoothly...so far. I will admit the plane food upset my sensitive little baby stomach a bit so I headed for the bathroom to 'unload' some stress. Walking into the first stall I stopped dead in my tracks. Where the hell was the toilet? Starring back at me was a rectangular basin held firmly in the ground. There was no seat, not even any toilet paper. Just a hole in the ground and a long funny hose attached to the wall. I had to step back. What the hell was going on here? The Japanese take shits too right? Do I stand over this thing?! Do they poop out of some unkown hole in their feet? What human could crouch down that low? It's pointed in the wrong direction! Where the hell is the toilet paper!? On closer examination, the door stall had a sign that said Japan, on the one next to it said Europe. Cringing with the fear of finding another sunken shit hole I opened the stall slowly. Thank god! A real toilet...a nice one too, padded seat and all sorts of strange electronic gizmo's on it. This thing was nicer than my apartment! the seat even heated up so your bum didn't get too cold! oh glory glory hallelujah. I won't give you the details of the next ten minutes, let's just say i got down to business. Ahh normal toilet paper too, sweet relief. i didn't have a magazine on me, and there was no clever graffiti littering the walls to entertain me. men you'll know what I mean when I say I needed something to read or fiddle with, it gets a little boring just sitting down for 30 minutes. So I started to examine this bizarre space-craft like device I was sitting, very exposed, on. There were all sorts of knobs and diles, few of which were in English. Keep in mind I hadn't slept and it was about 1:30am our time, anyone who knows me knows this was far past my bedtime...I was getting a little delirious. One knob was in English and Japanese, it read 'temperature'. One next to it read 'pressure'. Logic told me this must be controls for this fancy soft seat I was sitting on, why not crank it up? I'd love a hot seat and a firmer one at that. Didn't really notice a change, but maybe my western ass was just sore from all the sitting I'd done in the last 12 hours. Those were the only two controls that were in English... I wasn't done yet though, and of course I had to fidget with it some more. I noticed the oddest button next to the two I had just adjusted. To me, in my delirious state, mind you, it looked like a dotted line pointing at a pair of tits. If I push this do I get a peep show or something, will holographic porno be displayed for my enjoyment? This toilet is wonderful! pornography while you poo, who could ask for more! I'd love to look at a pair of titties after a long journey. So i did what I new best, pushed the damn button... How can i describe what happened next, the fear that sunk into my mind, the burning sensation I experienced. You see, in other countries they use things I've dubbed 'bum squirters'... Yes thats right, I had turned the heat up to max along with the pressure and proceeded to push the one button I should never have pushed. A fire hose torrent, just a real hot steamy jet of water went straight up my unsuspecting butt hole. Boiling water and pressure to boot. When you're not ready for an experience like this I can tell you my main emotion was sheer terror. I screamed like a 6-year-old girl and proceeded to jump out the stall, pants around my ankles to a bathroom full of men using the urinals. Why do I always find myself in the most embarrassing situations? Because I had to push the damn button. Here I was, ass naked, scarred, literally, shitless, with my pants around my ankles starring at about 5 Japanese gentlemen who couldn't help but burst into laughter...All I can tell people traveling to Japan...whatever you do, no matter what, DON'T PUSH THE BUTTON, your pride and sensitive asshole will appreciate it in the long run...And with that, I got my wet, burnt, embarrassed ass on the plane to Bangkok. So long Japan

Pride before the fall

I wish I could describe to you all the feelings going through my head. It's not so much an extra sensation, but lack thereof. 5 days ago I was in a motorcycle accident that I can't remember at all. I don't remember anything except waking up in the hospital 19 hours after I'd crashed, or was hit, or ran into something, or whatever the hell happened. I could tell you the name of the street I grew up on but I don't remember what color my neighbors house was. I could tell you the name of my boss but not where we meet for work. I remember my family, my Friends, my cat, but damn it all if a thick haze covers the strangest details of my life. I was knocked out cold for 9 hours, I can only imagine what kelly was going through. This trip has been so amazing, I apologize that my first post in a few weeks is to tell you all that I may not remember your name next time we meet. The pain meds leave me in a haze of forgetfulness, I'm in paradise but can't get over that fact that I don't remember the name of my first girlfriend in middle school. I have two options today. Pain I can't stay awake through, or a comatose laze that leaves my mind so foggy and slow. Even now as i write this, I can't remember what it was I wanted to say. The pain isn't worth a clear mind. Or is it? 'Tis only flesh though, and flesh will heal. My spirit however, is strong. My mind however, is weakened. I have two broken bones in my cheek, only fractures. I also have one in my eyebrow. My left eye, on the hair side of my pupil is blood red, I look like a zombie from 28 days later. I've ridden on a crocodile, snorkeled through coral jungles, played with monkeys and been picked up by elephants. All this, my dear Friends, is shadowed by the intense worry I have that I'll never have the same mind again. The last thing I remember is Kelly pleading with me 'Don't go off on that bike, it's dangerous at night' I laughed in my head, that I, an experienced rider, could ever get into an accident. Pride comes before the fall. quite literally. Now I pay dearly for my hubris. Now I can't go scuba diving for fear my face will collapse. Now I live with an ever looming blood clot in my left sinus. Constantly spewing brown/black blood from my nostril. Now I sleep at night and dream away my last memories. Last night I had a dream Sarah was in, it was like I re-lived some trip we had taken. Now I live with not being able to wrap my mind around whether or not it was real. What was her last name? Was it all real or just a dream? I fell cursed to dream away all the memories I've had. Greg was my freshman roomate, the night before last I dreamed of us watching some action movie in our room...was it will smith? I saw the room perfectly, like a crystal clear picture pasted on a wall. Today, however, someone or something has painted thick grey over it, I couldn't tell you a single detail. My greatest fear is that my mind is slipping, that the CT scan missed some tremendous blood clot slowly leeching away at the things i hold dear. My high school teachers? I could give you a name but couldn't point out a face. My distant memories are falling apart...Tears come to my eyes as i think that I may never be the man I once was, that my trip to paradise will also send me to my own personal hell. Nostalgia is something I love most in this world, like a bad hangover my fondest memories are slipping away. I hope these are only the drugs prescribed to me, I hope it all comes back, I hope I hope I hope. Why didn't my legs break? Why didn't I loose an eye? Anything but my memories. In a mans on self-made prison this is all there is to hold on to. You watch a movie like memento and shudder at the thought. I try to stop taking the drugs to see if my memory becomes clear, it's just so exhausting to move, so desperately achy. This must sound so desperate. I feel so desperate. I can clearly see the thick jungle we walked through only a week ago, but how long can I hold onto this memory? How long before I truly live one day at a time. I was blessed by a Buddhist monk the morning before my accident. So glad I'm not dead, but so worried I've found a fate worse than injury. kelly has been so kind and loving. Will I wake up one day and not know who she is? I know this must be depressing to read, understand my spirits are high, but as i write this, as i reflect on everything, I can't help but feel so much regret for wasted time, wasted things, wasted potential. Will I walk away from this a new man with the same mind. Or someone none of you know at all, unrecognizable to old faces. I will write about our trip before this. Undertsand I've journaled a million different expereinces but haven't had the time to write them in here. Haven't had the time. Hah. Thailand is an amzing place and I must fight constantly to ensure I don't treat it like my own hell. Depression is the name of todays post, tommorrow I hope to be in better spiritis. I only fear to sleep, fear to dream away another great memory. I must relax, I must concentrate, must remember...anything. I'll write to you all again when I'm through with these god-forsaken drugs. When I can think clearly. When I can, hopefully, remember who I'm writing for. If you're reading this then I love you now and always, and I pray to God, Buddha or whatever that I always remember you. That I always remember...something.

T-Minus 1 hour

Much closer to our destination now. It’s Tuesday Morning and we just woke up in LA. (I’m pretty sure Shia Lebouf walked past Lauren’s house when I went to the car, short little shit.) The drive down here was nerve racking, I don’t think I went any slower than 85 mph, we made it until about Lompoc before we had to pull over and relieve some tension. Coupled with two #1’s from IN-N-Out and a whole lot of karaoke. I’m sure the reader can imagine Kelly and I blasting down the 101 South towards LA screaming ‘what if God was one of us?”… I always have fun with her.
I can only wonder if other people envision Thailand the same way I do? shanty bamboo huts surrounded by thick dark green forests so thick an elephant couldn't go through. I imagine a world where everyone fishes for a living or farms some exotic plant I've never tasted.
I think it's a good and bad thing. Having very little expectations for a trip like this. I have, quite literally, no idea what we're getting into. That's not to say I didn't do my fair share of research; just that reading it and experiencing it are often two completely different beasts.
It feels weird not being at work today; I can't help but think of Devin and Brett no doubt being tortured by Mrs. Baker as I write these words. My hands are still callused and rough...where will I be in one week from now? What type of exotic and bizarre treats am I in for? Is it really going to be that hot? Will there be any natives as tall as me? How bad do elephants smell? Am I going to get Dengue fever and bleed through newly made holes in my eye sockets?
I really am traveling to a destination unknown at this point. I am jumping feet first down the rabbit hole and I’m nervous as hell. I’m grateful to the boss man for giving me a little perspective. “Dude, you think you’re nervous now? Wait until your wedding night or the day you have your first kid.” I can only wonder if I’ll be sharing my nervousness with the same partner throughout all these life experiences.
I’ve never been so nervous and excited at the same time….my little baby tummy is going nuts! I have leftover in-n-out waiting for me before the flight and I think we’ll leave for the airport in about an hour….A F*CKING HOUR!!!!
When you next read my words I will be half way around the globe. Until then.

Negative nancy beings her journey

Alright people, it’s official, I... am.... going... crazy! We have less than 48 hours left to go and I can’t seem to find any way to relax. I’m about to be in a tropical paradise the likes of which I have never encountered. Should I have a care in the world besides packing? Is this angst, frustration or wrath justified in any way?
Poor baby, what a tough Sunday I’ve had. Wake up to some much needed schnuggle time with the lady, followed by this summers greatest sci-fi masterpiece ‘District 9'. “There are a lot of secrets in District 9"...yeah like why the hell Kelly agreed to go to this one with me. ‘Do you think I’d like it?’ she asked this morning at about 10am when I was finalizing plans to go see it. What am I going to tell her? No! You’ll hate it! Don’t come out to a movie with me! I think this is where my day started to turn sour. I’ll admit, when I’m dragged to one of her horrible romantic comedies starring, yet again, Jennifer Anniston, or some other washed out tramp, I do a fair amount of complaining, or at least snickering, throughout the film. I do NOT, however, laugh out loud or cringe at every joke and melodramatic moment. I should have learned years ago, after dragging her to Hellboy...one and! two. Ladies, especially mine, don’t do science fiction. Normally I can hang with that though. Today? Uh-uh, no way, not working for me.
We go to the store to pick up extra supplies for the trip. Kelly is convinced she can’t use Thai shampoo and must bring her own overpriced salon crap. Welcome to argument two. We go to home depot to buy soaker hose to try and save our yard. Welcome to argument three. Get the car washed. Argue some more. I can always tell when I’m in a horrible mood when it feels like everyone else is. I’m getting the distinct impression that every human on the planet wants to annoy me today. Cross walkers downtown...why the f’ do they take so damn long to get across the street! You don’t own the road! Move that fat ass before I run it over. The grocery clerk, the lady on the phone with my bank, my own mother, everyone, I mean everyone, is just as bitchy and nasty as possible....Then you start to breath a little, relax, and realize... wait a minute.. what if I’m the prick today? Don’t think I’ll be needing that last lifeline to figure out this conundrum.
It’s such an interesting mixture of emotions going through your head before a trip like this. I’m torn between excitement, trepidation, a fair amount of nausea, disbelief. My emotional state is actually very similar to the grief process.
Step 1: Shock. This tantalizing little monster probably hit me some time in mid July. I can’t lie (never to my precious Blog) this whole trip was mostly a pipe dream until about a month ago. “Oh yeah baby, sure, let’ go to Thailand...snicker snicker laugh laugh, I’ll start saving tomorrow, oh yeah, mid-September...sure, I’ll be ready by then.” Enter stage left: August 4th 2009. Two weeks before our trip. I had one thought on my mind...HOLY F**KING A*S SH*T ARE YOU KIDDING ME!!!
Step 2: Denial. Kelly Andreson. Trip Denial Insurance. That is all.
Step 3: Bargaining. I’m such a good bullsh**ter I can B.S. myself, and I don’t mean the four years of college you’re all hoping for. Nobody bargains like my conscience. “I’ll be good...if only I could magically come across a duffel bag stuffed with unmarked bills asking to be spent in a foreign country half way around the world.... No? Fine, God, you don’t exist then. Bargaining done. That’s what I’ve never understood about believing in any sort of creator, they never show up when you need ‘em.
Step 4: Guilt. (I love how ‘live’ this blog is going to be) So I had Kelly read my posting so far... ironically, right before my thoughts on everyone’s favorite subject...’guilt!’ “You don’t seem very excited for the trip, do you even want to go on this trip with me (sob sob cry cry) DAMN YOU BLOG!!! If my readers didn’t understand before...I’M GOING TO THAILAND!!!! Is it possible to not be excited?! I guess it’s all just a perfect segway for the next step.
Step 5: Anger. Anger doesn’t exactly fit. It’s more a bizarre mixture of frustration and fear. NO! I’m not mad at You specifically. I’m not mad at anyone. Are you kidding me? I’m going to paradise with a gorgeous lady... I just can’t seem to relax enough to appreciate that fact.
Step 6: Depression. Welcome home my friend, I’m sure you remember 16-year-old George. And 18-year-old, and 19, 20, 21... I think it’s time for a real trip. I don’t care if my mother some how realizes how the internet works over night.
Here I am world. This is Casa de Blog el Jorge. No lies. No Bullshit. All typos. Although I realize this may be a bit too real for some of our readers.
Step f*ck Off. I’ve been trying to write this so formalized, so stylized to my type of writing. Is it so hard to tell the brutal truth. No Mom, you shouldn’t read this... Everyone becomes too disappointed...’why are you so angry’ ‘why can;’t you be cheerful’...’why can’t you get excited for this trip?’
...
Welcome to the final Step. Acceptance that you should write what’s going down. The emotions being felt. I don’t want to read this 20 years from now and say ‘oh yeah, I think I remember being pretty nervous. NO! I want to read... word for word... “I had ridiculous diarrhea boarding the plane, why the F*CK did Kelly give me a window seat? That’s the memory you always carry. I’m not going to remember that Snow Dogs 3 played on Japan Air on the way to Tokyo. I’m going to remember never being able to fully empty my bladder on an 18-hour death flight over the pacific to Tokyo.
...
I’ve been scolded, true story over.