The Honeymoon Part 3: From Denpasar to Ubud

12.22.07
(after actually getting bored of doing nothing at the resort, we rent a car and bolt north. we have no idea what we're about to get ourselves into in regards to traffic, and balinese roads.)



Got into Ubud yesterday about mid-afternoon. took 3 hours to get some 50 miles due to no effective map. had shitty useless map. with driving worse than anything either of us have ever seen, even worse than manhattan, we have an insane, yet exhilarating driving experience up the middle of the island. the roads are very skinny with little to no driving laws. sometimes 3 lanes would emerge on a 2-lane road. sometimes our lane would become a parking lot with no alternative but to try to find a way around it. and then there are the motorbikes. they're everywhere like bugs. little tiny children ride behind their parents. no helmet, just tiny little hands grasping the shirt in front of them. they have expressions of intense focus or total boredom. driving in bali is an unbelievably stressful experience.

we are also really hungry through most of it, and can't find a place to pull over to get food. many foods, no space for parking the car. only motorbike parking everywhere. we go hungry for hours. the motorbikes dart in and out, cars hem us in, skinny starving dogs dart in and out, can't see names of roads, have shitty map, blood sugar dropping. HELL. i start to feel a little crazy, like i can't focus my eyes on the map/the road/the street names in the book/the one-way signs/the stop signs/the city signs anymore. i can't use my instinct for direction anymore. i've exhausted all resources. guy yells every time there is a fork in the road, "WHICH WAY! WHICH WAY!"

the pressure is unmanageable. his driving is very skilled, but he is so stressed. we both wear thin, but

somehow

manage

to get along.

until the very end.

we arrive in Ubud. again, no street signs, or hard to see. guy takes a spastic wrong turn off what we believe to be the road we want. everything is crowded and tight and we're moving at a snail's pace due to traffic congestion. there are no options for fixing a wrong turn, except to start over from the beginning. i yell without thinking, "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

guy gets pissed and calls me a child. i call him an asshole. i get defensive and say stuff that doesn't make sense. i'm so brain dead, i don't even remember yelling at him.

finally i get out of the car when we somehow magically find our hotel on a street other than we expected. a total accident. i grab my bag and get out so i can scout it out and find where to park the car. it seems like we might have to park in a neighboring town, it is that crowded. guy thinks there might be a "back lot." this cracks me up. there is no space anywhere. we split up, he takes the car, i take my bag and look for a door. i realize i'm giving off a terrible vibe, but i'm just furious.



i walk down dubious cobblestone alleys, one after the other, following hand painted signs for the hotel. i am finally greeted by who we get to know as "Yoman," our very humble host, and get our room.

guy finds parking but is confused after the hellish driving, and after finding me, we end up going back to the car 3x for things we need. back and forth, back and forth, back and forth up and down cobblestone before we find ourselves exhaustively, happily poolside.

the pool is stunning in the steamy environ.



i think we can forgive each other for our outburst. we make up with a silent hug underwater in the pool, described as "commodious" in our guidebook. it is extraordinarily refreshing and it washes away our frustration.

i never want to drive through the middle of Bali ever again. we will take the coast back.

(it should be noted that by as soon as the next day we were talking of the great adventure the drive had been, and are left feeling that way to this day.)

Ubud
Ubud is super cool. very arty. an arty we understand. tons of little shops with original-design everything. tiny winding streets. lots of white people. we decide to stay 3 days.



our room at the Oka Wati Hotel is unreal. For $30 we have 25' ceilings made of woven matting. it is decorated with antique balinese furniture. understated. authentic. we love it. we have a ceiling fan. no A/C. this is fine. although a constant state of stickiness is the reality, unless we are walking during which time we are slick with sweat.



it is just afternoon and we will go get lunch before i get an in-room massage from a weird girl named Made, at 3pm. after that we will shop and get drinks. we think.



earlier today we went to see Goa Geneh, a temple found in a cave in 1923. not very impressive. tons of bugs and super hot making us slick and wet and miserable. vendors approach aggressively. we say, "no thank you" over and over. we have to shut the car door in their faces. they continue to talk thorugh the window. it's really irritating. i see a kitten on the walk to the temple. she is too young to know how to hunt. she is skinny and separated from her mother. she is mewing and dying. it is unbearable to me. i go towards her and stop. i cannot get involved. it will lead to more heartbreak and possibly disease. i walk away from the kitten and do nothing to help her.

this is fucked up.

i have trouble with the memory/image of the mewing, starving kitten and not helping her for several days afterward.

12.27.07 - about 12.24
christmas eve. how weird. we spend it riding mountain bikes 17 miles down the slope of a volcano in a monsoon storm.

there is a tour advertised in our hotel room desk. we decide to take it, very unlike us, but this one sounds special. it promises a visit to a plantation and a traditional family compound where we will "Meet the family!" plus the aforementioned bike ride followed by a "balinese feast." sounds good. we're in.

there are many parts to the tour.

we eat breakfast atop a volcano during heavy fog...


we feed banana pancakes to a starving dog...


we stop at a family compound to see how they work...


we drink coffee on a plantation and smoke pure balinese tobacco with our guide.


then we get on our bikes, ready to ride...and the monsoon starts again.

thick sheets of rain are coming down. our tour group of 2 brits, 1 german, us and two dorky americans in spandex laugh at what is about to happen. our shoes are so soaked within seconds, it's like we've been walking in a swimming pool. and off we go.

the riding is hysterical fun. it's downhill and fast fast fast. guy and i are in the front. we laugh like we're mad as the rain needles stab our eyes, making it difficult to see. we're on backroads in bali. there are no cars. we are swiftly passing small villages with carved stone walls and rushing water from rice paddies down to the road. little children wave and say "Hallo! Hallo!" and give us high-fives (or sideways-fives) as we rush past in a spray of water. we're cruising along, never looking back when suddenly there is a crash of lightning directly in front of us. it looks like it splits the earth in half. it's thick and blinding white. just as quickly a thunderclap louder than anything guy or i have ever heard, follows. we scream, our eyes are huge, we look at each other in total wonder through the curtain of rain. it's a moment i will remember for the rest of my life.

3 hours later, the ride is over. we're completely soaked and swimming in endorphins, not to mention rain. we sit down, order a beer, and pig out.

but that's not all.

now the tour takes us to a monkey jungle.



you buy little bananas at the front of the park. the monkeys are running wild. you get used to this. you pass out the bananas to the monkeys who softly take them from your hand with unimaginable grace. you watch and stare at the monkeys. you do all this, but you don't expect a monkey to land on your back.



he was light, like a small cat and suddenly there, on my shoulder. the pictures guy immediately started taking are hilarious. he doesn't stop snapping. my face is horrified and in motion in the first picture. my eyes are huge. especially under my matted, damp, post-bike ride hair. the monkey sits calmly on my shoulder and unwraps his tiny banana and eats it. i hand him another one. he does the same thing and then is gone. it's magical! i want to call my mom right away and tell her. this is the first clue that something tremendous has happened. must call mom. we spend a good hour observing the free range monkeys.



it's so liberating being in a foreign country with so few rules, regulations, standards. monkeys roam freely and downhill bike tours include close-impact lightning. fantastic.

tomorrow we leave Ubud. guy wants to go north to Lovina and then down the west coast "to see big waves" where the surfers are. i want to go directly east to Sanur, (and maybe to the gili islands?) and then down the east coast for white-sand beaches. we go north.

The Honeymoon Part 2: Nusa Dua

12.18.07 evening, Nusa Dua

Guy is on the sofa holding his crotch, watching tv. i am on the veranda (better than patio, balcony or deck) smoking after an amazing dinner of fried shrimp and thai basil chicken that we had delivered to our "apartment." in total the cost was less than $15 and was incredibly delicious.

immediately near me is a fountain. i'm wearing the anthropologie nightgown guy's sister gave me, and drinking red wine. there is no wind. in the near distance a lazy, slow-time band is playing "Brown-eyed Girl" island-style. it is a perfectly still 75-80 degrees out. incense burns at my feet to ward of practically non-existent mosquitos. we feel extraordinarily privileged.

we have arrived in Bali.

at the dinner table we take a bite and stare at each other through still half-lids. a minute goes by. we get a whiff of jasmine in the air and roll our eyes. we have been rewarded an unbelievable gift for making it through 2007. together.
this is more than a honeymoon.

or is it?

maybe i just never imagined myself fortunate enough to experience the honeymoon of dreams. of hollywood movies.

there is no hectic energy in the air. my soul reaches high in the sky to find it, fearful of it, expectant.

it is nowhere.

all is still.



Notes on International Travel
customs, passports, lines upon lines. and i thought flying to baltimore was trying. it is difficult for me. more so than guy. the waiting. the paperwork.

the authority figures.

at the entrance to customs at the Denpasar airport was a sign. it read:
The Penalty for Drug Possession in Bali is DEATH.

i thought of the morphine tablet my friend gave me, sitting purple and shiny in my pillbox with assorted klonopin, benadryl and advil. my usual travel arsenal. i thought of where i could hide the pill on my body. i thought of leaving the line, going into the bathroom and putting it...in a dark place. i asked guy, Are you sure this is OK?! he said Yes, Trust me. (all i can think about is that claire danes movie, Brokedown Palace.)

i trusted him.

it was ok.

i lean back in my chair, breathe in jasmine and incense and consider this moment a good enough reason to have not killed myself already. life is so hard most of the time. we stay alive and we don't know why. it is best not to kill one's self because experiences like this - at a resort in Bali - may come along. you just have no idea.

it makes living feel worth it.

guy has gone to bed. he says he needs to "reset" himself. i want to make him sit with me to languish in the perfection. but i don't. he's so grumpy when tired.

as usual, since leaving SF, i have no idea what time it is.

Verand-ized Reflections
The Thai people truly are the nicest, the kindest, the most sincere people i have ever met. I wonder why?

Buddha?

I am drinking a bottle of french red because a thai steward spilled some food on guy on our flight here. it was no big mess at all. we told him, "no problem."

he brought us a bottle of wine and many apologies.

we have been tipping the cab driver, the bellhop, the concierge $1 bills out of my useless wallet because we haven't figured out how to work the rupiah, the bali money, yet. 10cents doesn't seem right, although the guide says this is the norm. they respond with extra bottled waters, extra-fast service and super-kindness.

wow. a dollar buys all that. it's hard to understand, and hard not to feel weird about it.


12.20.07 - about 12.19



wake up at 7:30am. get breakfast. guy sits at the bar and drinks while i have a 75 minute aromatherapy message by the pool/bar/restaurant.

as i lay down for my $9 massage, the soft warm wind begins to blow horizontally. the massage ladies say to me, "go inside?" they will massage me in our apartment, but it is A/C-cold in there, and i want to be outside. i hesitate. they say "ok, here." i lay face down and i hear the rain pick up. heavier and heavier. i try to relax and not feel guilt that i am being rubbed with oils by women who are getting soaked and having to wrestle the wind under a flimsy straw canopy. i try to remember how relaxing it is at home to hear rain and rest in bed.

but this is a monsoon. like in louisiana, but even more. california never sees anything like this.

torrents.

two women rub delicious jasmine oil into my legs, arms, back and stomach.

75 minutes goes quickly.

i join guy at the bar afterward and begin a day of drinking with hin. we become friends with Asti, the bartender. she's sweet and beautiful like everyone we meet here. she seems to actually like us. we stay for maybe 3-4 hours. we read, smoke, talk, laugh, drink and look out at the indian ocean.

guy says, "this is so relaxing, i can barely stand it."

lovely. like nothing i have ever experienced. we are truly carefree. i try not to be sad right away that it will end. feeling the presence and the absence at the same time...that thing i do when i'm really truly satisfied and happy.



12.20.07
the australians at this resort are strangely shaped. short, stumpish legs. a bit thick in the middle, with short necks. their boisterous, loud voices match the clumsiness of their bodies. (i laugh when i overhear an australian mom at the pool, say to her daughter, "amelia! amelia! don't spend so much time under the water! how must you be feeling now?!" to which amelia says without inflection, "happy.")

the balinese are beautiful. smooth dark skin. sharp bone structure. lean and delicate.

i feel gigantic. almost obese next to them.

here we eat when we're hungry and sleep when we're tired. the nausea i felt in bangkok is gone. i can eat comfortably here. food is delicious and cheap: $2-3 for what would be $9-12 at home. we haven't left the resort yet. that comes later. we are allowed to rest. this has been a difficult adjustment. the idea that doing nothing is the only idea.

we're going to go walk out into the indian ocean now. we have just eaten our lunch. as usual i have no idea what time it is.

The Honeymoon Part 1: Bangkok days 1-4

12.14.07
International wing SFO. arrived at 9:30am, 3 hours ahead of time.

baggage check = 1 hour
security = 3 minutes

calm inside. no freaky. guy says i have a wall up. i recognize this. i've been railroaded by firing at work and other distasteful complications for two weeks. yet to recover.

7:30am: show up at friend's house to retrieve envelope of ambiens she was to leave out for us. not there. hear her cough inside her apartment. knock several times. she does not hear.

9:00am: arrive at home of peninsula friends and leave car. they kindly drive us to airport.

surprised how calm i am. still scared of 20 hour flight and boredom. buy tatum o'neal autobiography for easy distraction. should be trashy. take 2 mgs. of klonopin.

EN ROUTE
we are now over the berring sea. there is a sunset on the horizon line. behind me the sky looks like a warm rainbow, like a strip of tape, binding the heavens to the earth. in front of me...well, it's so beautiful i am moved to tears. like the first sunset that ever made me cry on the north shore of oahu 2 years ago.

i see heaven up in the sky. like "streets of gold," or gentle ribbons of honey dribbled over a venti extra foam latte. i wish for it to be heaven as it's written in the bible. like maybe the place where my grandparents are.

(at moments i can see the ripples of the ocean 30,000 feet below. i think of all the people who have ever been lost at sea and realize a new level of hopelessness.)

the sky is so beautiful i can't stop crying. i have to close the window. i have to stop dreaming of heaven and the goodness and beauty this cruel world possesses. a knot is twisting it's way up the back of my throat. like a growing snake eschewing it's skin right between my eyes.

i can't wait to tell my mom i saw heaven, that it's real.

i wouldn't care if i died here.



12.16.06
arrival in bangkok: got to Sawasdee Khaosan Inn at 1:30am last night. fresh pee on the toilet seat in our room - and nothing but a shower head hanging over the sink for a shower. i try to keep my mouth shut over how much this disturbs me. guy proposed a $20/night limit while staying in the middle of things, so this is what you get.

pretty awake on arrival from sleeping the entire 6.5 hour flight from our tokyo layover to here. we get drinks and smoke. streets seem safe at 2am. empty. steamy.


12.16.07 evening
yeah. i'm a girl who likes her shower and her toilet separate from one another. i try to be a cool. a traveler. you know. a free spirit who thinks everything is beautiful. but i'm not. i think of what my sister said about jetlag and it making you angry. i try to be different, but it's nearly impossible.

we've been here a day. one full day. one night. one nap. i am finally starting to feel like myself again.

i finally feel some joie de vivre returning.

we're about to head out to patpong. i have invented a hairstyle using my naturally curly hair in a way that makes me feel sexy. quite an accomplishment. curly hair usually makes me feel like an unkempt hippie. but here i am. ready for patpong. i've got a tank top on, knee-length skirt and chucks.

was at the market all day today. a weekend market. huge, congested, several acres in size of back to back stuff and people. hard to focus on many cool things. diarrhea and puppies are the standout memories. while shopping i try to buy sandals, as even canvas sneakers seem ridiculously heavy. i go to three places. they have size "10" which is more like a "9". the salesgirls look at me. at my feet. they say, "we do not have large." nothing fits me here. if i lost 50Ibs. i could fit in the dresses. they'd just be really really short.

i'm too big for asia.



12.16.07 middle of the night

it was a night out in bangkok starting at midnight.

we slept all afternoon, woke up at 10pm? not sure. got dressed and left with the idea to see patpong. we catch a tuk-tuk. driver says, "patpong closed. it 2:30am." we don't believe him. about the time mostly. he says he'll take us to a bar nearby. we're up for anything. we go.

tuk-tuks are fun. they go very fast, there are no walls. it's like a motorcycle with back seats. love it. the wind is soft, the ceiling of the tuk-tuk is low. i slink down to catch a view of speeding neon. i don't understand anything around me. i feel loose and like, whatever. guy and i laugh at nothing.

we arrive at the bar, which has no sign, no lights, no indication of anything. it's a secret. suddenly a man darts from the direction of the building and pops over. our driver says something to him and he greets us and we go inside with him. the driver will wait. he doesn't even ask for payment first.

we walk into a large enough space. there is a normal bar, normal booths and nice sofas with coffee tables up the center. we are seated in a middle booth facing a mirrored wall lined by 7 girls in red and black outfits. they smile. we are alone in the bar. we order drinks and steal glances at the girls who must be prostitutes. they smile at us and swish their hair. guy and i talk out of the sides of our mouths. "well, i'm certainly being looked at." "so am i." we're being cool when suddenly a 40ish woman sits next to me in the booth. i can't remember what she said, but guy says to her words i have never heard, and he does so with total confidence. "are you the mama san?" hmm. she says and nods. she is not ostentatious in the slightest. she looks like someone's mom. she begins to suss out that we do not want to hire a prostitute. she looks at me. she looks at guy. she doesn't quite buy it yet. guy tells her we're on our honeymoon. she nods, smiles and asks for a drink. but of course. guy is smooth, he hands her money for a drink when just as suddenly there is a youngish guy standing next to her. she tells us he is her husband. "buy him a drink too, hmm-hmm." sure, guy tells her and hands her money. she still doesn't get that we don't want a prostitute. "one for each?" she says and points to him and then me. no, no, but they're very nice, guy says. i smile and nod. i'm just taking it in. so foreign and new. i love it. i am a sponge. i look at the girls and wonder. they smile at us. soon, more guys come in. guy asks, "who are the nicest men? from which country?" mama san says, "country does not matter. it's what is in the heart. i can see it in the eyes." she seems to be enjoying us. i like that she likes me. she is in charge and it's good to have her on your side. besides she's a powerful woman. we chit chat before she gets bored and gets up. there is an annoying man who dances weird and comes over to guy and asks him to dance. guy gets up and shakes a hip or two before sitting down. we're like silly putty, we can form to any situation that comes along. when he leaves, mama san says the weird dancer wants me. the place fills up with men. mama san motions for guy to sit next to me rather than across. she says this is because guys are asking for me. they think i am a prostitute. i am grateful for her. dudes don't always get that women are susceptible and i appreciate her pointing this out to guy. i really kind of like her and really kind of admire her. one thing i take notice of: the girls don't like many of the other guys. they frown and avert their gaze if they don't want the business. in my heart, i am glad that the prostitutes like guy and me.

we have 3 or 4 drinks each and leave.

tuk-tuk is waiting for us. we're a bit tipsy at this point. tuk-tuk driver says, "disco?" we're like, yeah, ok, sure. we just want to be out. we're awake and there is no point in not being out. we're in this unbelievable city. it's vast, dark and filled with secrets. yet, it feels safe. i love the spontaneity. i love doing whatever is suggested.

the disco is just like the bar. no signs, no lights, not even a doorknob on the door. we go inside and witness a bag check counter. we get stamped on our hands and enter. it's like a high school dance but with go-go girls on tables. there is a dj pumping out beats. he changes speeds too much for me. it's hard to find a groove. we walk to a table with our drinks. a tiny thai woman is instantly on me. she runs her hands down the length of my body while shimmying to the music. i go with it. it's not offensive, it's interesting. i shake a hip or two and then she's gone. guy is impressed with my "handling" of a strange situation. i like everything that's new. we stand at the table where the girls are dancing. we sip our bad vodka and watch them. some are good, some aren't. guy says, "not many men's wives would let them sit here and do this." i think about that and perhaps it's true. to me, it's like watching a movie, it's just something to observe. we try to dance, but it's hard with the dj constantly changing beats. guy goes to the bathroom and comes out telling me of a man who approached him while he was peeing, and starting cracking his back. how weird. i'm a little unnerved at this. guy tells me the dude then cracks all guy's fingers. guy walks out feeling relaxed. hmmm. all i got was a stall, a hole and a squirt gun for my butt.

the disco is entertaining, but we tire of it eventually and leave. as we walk out the sky is getting light. i haven't stayed out all night since high school. maybe. i love it. we get in our tuk-tuk which is still waiting and go back to our hotel. i fall asleep immediately while Pretty in Pink plays on the tv. it's 7:00am.



12.17.07
the jetlag has cleared. went to the Grand Palace. very beautiful. very hot out. we stand in line and buy tickets but are stopped at the door. i am not allowed in with just a tank top on. my heart sinks. i am really embarrassed. i have done something stupid and possibly irreverant. i feel actual shame like the nutball i am. maybe the jetlag isn't totally gone. we turn to leave when we see signs pointing to a room that is filled with short-sleeved button up shirts. they are free to take and wear. i check one out like a library book. many people are doing this. i feel better. we are off. the temple is so shiny with gold it hurts your eyes. everything is huge. the scale is so weird. so gigantic. i feel better again taking pictures. there are a million beautiful angles, colors and patterns to shoot.




12.17.07 - later

afterwards we take a boat ride out on the Chao Praya river. it's wide, like the mississippi and filled with boats of several sizes and shapes. it's total chaos. there are no rules and yet it all works. when the boat pulls up to dock and lets people off and takes people on, there is a rope thrown over a post, there is yelling and gesticulating, there are people jumping over a gap from the boat to the dock, then there is more yelling, then the rope is off the post and the boat is gone. each docking takes no more than 10 seconds. it's phenomenal to watch. it satisfies the ADD in me. clip clip clip and we're off. no bullshit.



we take the boat downriver and get off at a huge glass mall. it turns out to be an antiques mall with a hundred rooms filled with antiques. very clean and orderly, but not a soul inside. so vast. so empty. we wander a bit and then head to the sheraton next door. i have an idea to scope it out and maybe come back with bathing suits. i am dying for something familiar and i find it. the sheraton is elegant and completely separated from it's environment save a nice view of the river. we sit by a garden and a big pool. we order drinks. we order delicious snacks. the best calamari ever and we rest. i breathe deeply. i relax for the first time since arriving. guy is a way cooler traveler than me, but he agrees. it is very nice to be surrounded by a civilization that we understand.



we take the boat back. we buy cool street art and tshirts. get a drink. have a few smokes at "the station." an outdoor cafe built around an abandoned gas station. awful drinks, super cool setup. we're dead tired. DEAD TIRED. it was a truly fun day. now we pack. tomorrow early we are out of here. bangkok was a bad idea as a first stop for people desperately needing to relax. can't wait for bali and the resort and a freaking pool and magazine reading.

yes.

Last day first: A New Year's Eve in Bangkok

new year's eve. we have 8 hours in bangkok for a layover between Bali and home. we get a hotel room because the hours there are from 8pm to 4am. we check in, shower, get dressed and go out to a place that our cab has passed on the way to the hotel. it is this tiny street about 15 feet wide and maybe 2 blocks long. more like 1.5. it's filled with neon signs. FILLED. like all of vegas is packed in this tiny space. we can't resist it, so when we're ready we head back. turns out the name of the street is "Cowboy 2." for no particular reason. after a lot of funny miscommunication we find out there were not actual cowboys there.

upon arrival we start walking and meld into a huge street party with most participants inside. the place is filled with go-go bars. prostitutes everywhere. but they're so good looking, and so not hagged out, that it's not a terribly gross scene like it would be here. there aren't really any drugs in thailand. at least not used by women, which is probably why they don't look grosser. anyway, the bars are all open in the front, and food has been put out throughout the night, people are pretty wasted. it's 11:15pm. almost midnight. we pick a bar and get a drink and sit outside and watch for a while before going inside. these aren't nude bars, but almost. in the bar we pick, there are girls pole-dancing on an elevated platform in tiny bikinis. they are the worst dancers i've ever seen because they just don't care. they are like half-asleep dancing. it's depressing. it's not titillating in the slightest although they are very beautiful, they're like lazy and bored. we get two shots of vodka and 2 beers. there is a live band, which is why we chose this particular bar. they are playing heavy rock standards. i think there was joe satriani first and the girls could not dance to that at all. it made them even more bored. then some led zeppelin was played and they picked up a bit.

we get another round. it's kind of fun in the bar. the bartenders are women and they are really nice (well, all the thai people are super nice) and are the less attractive women, which is obviously why they're serving liquor. by the second shot, i realize i'm drinking smirnoff vodka which reminds me of 6th street, which makes me want to vomit just at the sight of the label. i tell guy, "Ew! it's smirnoff!" he says that's what we've been drinking all along. that disgusts me. i finish my beer.

by this time it's almost midnight and guy orders another round of shots and beers. we're handed some poppers for the countdown. we do our shots, take a sip of beer, and..."4321 HAPPY NEW YEAR!!" whooo! the place erupts and silly string is everywhere. we kiss and cheer. what a surreal experience. where am i? how did i get here? what is this?!! then, i suddenly throw up in my mouth. i am so far from the bathroom, and would have to go through so many people, that i don't even try to make it. i barf another round into my mouth. at this point i have to swallow it. it's hot and burn-y and gross. but i do it. breathe in. breathe out. sit. start to sweat. ooops...ahh...here comes more. i barf two more times, two more mouthfulls, and swallow. this is so horrible. guy is looking at me like "what is that face all about?" i tell him. he points to the bathroom. i go. by the time i get there. there is no more barf. i have swallowed all of it, and it doesn't need to get out. great.

i go back downstairs and ask guy if we can sit outside. we take our drinks and find a table on the street. people are stumbling everywhere. it's a madhouse. big fat old american men with teeny tiny pretty thai women. it's so gross. and fascinating too. guy suddenly points across the street at a tall, white girl who has her hands up to her face. she is obviously bawling. she is so sad. guy says, "i'm going to go talk to her." i push him back down, look at her and say, "no, she needs a girl to talk to." i can tell she is just so sad, and reminds me of myself on many a new year's eve, heartbroken that some dude doesn't love me enough to be with me, to kiss me at midnight. guy encourages me to go talk to her. i don't want to. i'm hesitant. i never invite strangers into my life. but i look at her, and i tell myself to just be nice. just do it. i get up and walk towards her.

when i reach her, i say, "hi, are you alright? um, i'm american, are you?" with this, she looks up and her face is streaked with tears and she nods. i say, "i'm from california. ummm..." and she says, "minnesota." i tell her i am with my husband across the street and we're just drinking beers. would she like one? would she like someone to hang out with? she says, "yes." and follows me to our table.

her story is this: she met a guy online and they've been dating for 4 months, but he moved to bangkok a month ago. he's a teacher. he's in a bar right now with his friend. she doesn't care about go-go dancing and can't understand why he would invite her all the way to bangkok for new year's eve, then bring her here, then leave her to go watch a show at midnight. "What a DICK." i say. "What a DICK move." she nods. she is feeling better. we give her a beer and start to talk. she is a nurse and travels around the east coast from hospital to hospital. she thinks it's a boring job. she thinks my job, writing, is cool. i tell her i used to be a designer. she thinks it's so cool that being an artist means you can be many things, but she can only be a nurse. she is 28 years old and her name is the same as my youngest sister. she is sweet. she almost looks like a model on America's Next Top Model. those girls are pretty, but not gorgeous. intermittently she cries. then she sees her boyfriend come out of the bar and he joins her at our table. he won't look at us. i hate him. finally she gets up and goes. she thanks us for being so nice. as she walks away, she says, "hey, are you on Facebook?" i hate facebook, and while i am "on" it, i don't even know my screen name. she asks what it is, i take a stab at it. she's being pulled away, i can't even tell if she heard me.

guy and i sit a bit longer and then go back to the hotel. we have 1.5 hours before our wake-up call. we lay down and pass out immediately. when the wake-up call comes, my head feels like a cement block.

and then we fly home.

Still on the other side of the Date Line

it's been five days since guy and i got back, and we're still out of sync. sleeping all day, staying up all night. at first it was a gradual downward slide: sleeping half the day and awake half the night.

i guess it got bad thursday night when the electricity went off. it was 4am and guy and i awoke to the sound of the carbon monoxide alarm restarting. we couldn't go back to sleep so we turned on the tv. and then, shortly therafter, the longest electrical blackout in either of our histories took place.

i'm sure the new record had to do with living all of our adult lives in cities, until last june.

22 hours of darkness!

friday night was a gas. playing cards by candlelight with nothing but a hand-cranked shortwave radio as a soundtrack. we drank 3 bottles of wine and went to bed at 5:30am.

(the picture above was taken on New Year's Day in Tokyo, Japan as the sun set at 5:00pm. we arrived in SFO 9:15am in the morning of New Year's Day.)

My only interest in Gwyneth Paltrow

although she's probably cool. she is probably cool and a good example of something (one) i first hate and then like a lot later.

until then...my only interest in gwyneth paltrow has an impressive web page.

Back

we are. it's funny, i've started talking in broken english. or yoda-speak. my sentences have started at the end and ended at the beginning, the way the rest of the world talks. writing south of the equator had a funny effect on my "Ms" and "Ns".

our honeymoon was, to be trite, full of adventure and fun. exhilarating. testy. beautiful above all. i ate things there that i hate here, which says a lot.

kept up the writing most of the time and will start posting stories soon.

our honeymoon was two weeks of time during which we never knew the hour. a luxury i've never known. plus there were other luxuries i've never known. and more. plus some.

like my insomnia went away.

The Great Wide Open

well, here i am on the eve of my first transcontinental trip. i'm 12 hours from check-in and i'm starting to get excited. to feel the freedom that awaits me. the wild abandon. the cluelessness. ahh, to be clueless. living in a pocket of life. suspended time. on the other side of the Date Line.

it's not even real over there is it? more like a drawing i'm about to step into. mary poppins.

No Fear

i want No Fear surgery.

Going, going, gone

the honeymoon to bangkok and bali is back on. sympathetic loved ones are loaning us the money to go, and so we're goin'.

all day today i shopped for the very best place to stay in bangkok's banglamphoo district for $20 a night. it took hours and hours. but i found a reasonable, hopefully, place to stay for $24 a night right off khao san road, which is a major shopping/nightlife district.

things are feeling better around here. we're both starting to reach critical excitement level. i started to pack. i'll be retrieving some tranquilizers for the 20 hour flight to BKK. there's a reservation for a place to stay our first night in bangkok. we've figured out our budget per day. this fluctuates depending on where we are and all that we'll need on that day depending on where we are. having an answer to these questions is very calming. having a 2-week escape from the here and now is priceless.

time for celebrating.


(the above photo is where you can stay for $60/night near seminyak, bali, a major shopping and nightlife neighborhood.)