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.