The most frightening pee…ever.

Word all!  R and I are in Cambodia now having a totally awesome time.

To recap the last few days, we basically went up to Chang Mai, Thailand and hiked through the dense Thai jungle for two days straight.  We slept in the jungle too on a raised bamboo hut on a small mat inside a mosquito net.  The jungle is a very mysterious and exciting place.  We saw gigantic beetles, spiders, magnificent butterflies, flowers, and waterfalls.  It was also quite muddy in the jungle and we trekked over all sorts of terrains–definitely a sweaty challenge.  The jungle becomes a little scary when you are sleeping next to a thick, deep jungle wall..and have to go pee.  The idea of walking 30 yards to the outhouse completely scared the crap out of me so I decided to hang my big white behind off the side of the bamboo porch.  As I was squatting my bum to the ground, alone in the dark, I thought of all the noctural preditors who might come up and take a big chunk out of it.  Of course, as I’m thinking this I’m peeing a liter and can’t stop (I held it all day like a camel).   Finally I finish and stumble back to my mosquito net to sleep. Ahhh, no jungle cat terror.

In an hour I have to pee again.  DOH!  The fear begins all over and R’s wondering if I’m OK…I say yeah, do my business again all the while imagining jungle cat sounds.

Overall the Thai jungle was amazing.  Jungle life fascinates me….how do people survive out there?  What are their problems?  What are their concerns?  What do they eat..?  What eats…them?

Now we are in the Cambodian jungle around Siam Reap.  So much to report from here, too.  Just thought some people might be amused with my Thai jungle adcentures…

 

Rockin’ out in Bangkok

R and I have been hauling our butts through the crazy streets of Bangkok for four days now…we’ve been having a blast.  Bangkok is actually the easiest place I’ve traveled in 3 years.  I keep thinking back to India, Mongolia, Russia, Eastern Europe, and China and can’t help but think ‘Wow this is a total breeze!’

Despite Bangkok’s business…the super chill Thai-ness makes everything doable.  So does the quick and easy public transportation system here.

We saw some beautiful, old Buddist statues and monuments outside B-kok today.  Oh! And we saw Muay Thai kickboxing a few days ago—really, really cool–and not too bloody.  We sat ringside!!!  Rav loved it.  Been eating some to die for Thai food (I continue on my quest to find the best Pad Thai around…)

Went to a really sweet, chill park (Lumpinhi) where I swear to god we saw a Komoto Dragon.  Ok it was probably only like 4-5 feet long lizard but it seemed HUGE!  At first R wanted to rent a paddle boat but when he saw that thing he changed his mind.  The park also had this totally ghetto fabulous “Worlds Gym” type of thing with trees and grass growing all over it—it was all exercise equipment circa 1962.  Rusty and spectacular.  It was a literal jungle gym and some buff Thais were workin’ on their fitness in there!  Also saw a couple of Thai guys playing a board game chillin’ in the park, too. 

We had an exciting adventure at this huge shopping mall called the Emporium…because…I forgot my glasses.  Yep.  Something I NEVER do on big trips, but I did so all I had on the 24 HOUR COMMUTE to Bangkok were my contacts.  It got painful… anyway… I picked out some sassy CK purple and blue glasses and had lenses put in within a day.  My argument to R was: if I really go through with this doctoral program I’m going to need lots of pairs of funky glasses!!!  They cost about the same as they would have in the states with my insurance.

So yeah, I dig Bangkok.  It’s easy traveling–hot as hell though.  The monsoon rains help cool things down but our $5/night hostel room fan is not so forgiving.  We also finalized the rest of our travels.  Those include: Cambodia, Vietnam, Malaysia, and Bali.   

Basically R and I have been reveling in all this time together.  After a few Singah beers yesterday I couldn’t resist giving him a smooch on the street.  A Thai lady saw us and exclaimed, “In love!”  I of course said “Yes!” to which she replied, “Cool!”  This afternoon we laid around after a hot day of picture taking at old Thai architecture sites and giggled like high schoolers for like 2 hours.  Actually we’ve done that practically every day.  It’s a nice deal :).

By the way R can’t tell a Ladyboy to save his life.  Ladyboys are men who dress up as women or really have a sex change to look like women…all over.  There are quite a few here in Thailand and work in a number of different areas: the makeup counter at the Emporium, dancing, sex work.  Many are actually quite striking women and I found a few checking out R.  R’s response to this is the same as it is with anatomical women: total cluelessness. 

Headed to Chang Mai (still Thailand) tomorrow…will hopefully see lots of nature and do some trekking.  R is considering taking Muay Thai kick boxing lessons. 

And…I kinda like having a familiar travel partner…it’s nice and makes things easier.  R has noted I’m kind of a travel snob and like to run the show in this arena…but we are doing just fine (wonderful in fact) and I’m sure now we will figure out any bumps in the road.  I knew everything would be ok!!!  I just have this weird thing about whenever I’m happy I feel like something bad will happen!  I hate that!  Nothing to feel bad about these days though, all is very well in my world.

 

The Travel Test

R and I fly out to Southeast Asia together for 5 weeks tomorrow! We are super pumped and I am giving him packing techniques as I type :). This is R’s first big backpacking trip (ourside of India for 2-3 months at a time). This is probbaly my third major trip (meaning over a month long abroad) and about my 10th minor one. Historically I have ventured out alone…but this time I have my man with me. Because we’ve been doing the long-distance thing for about a year and a half we are curious to see how we will get along together 24/7 (btw he just permanently moved to my city and we are so pumped!). We have already discussed a plan where we are totally cool with separating for a few days if we need space. As many people have said before, travel can test a relationship. As most of you know, I love a good challenge, so this should be interesting!!

Things I’ve noticed so far: R is the more laid back one. This is quite shocking for me because up until now I’ve thought I was the most Type B as they come. So far I’ve been doing most of the planning, thinking, and instructing. “R go get your Chinese passport!!!” “R you need a better day pack!!!” “R you are only bringing 6 pairs of underwear?!” I feel kind of like a nag…I’m never a nag (am I???).

When R’s just bopping through clouds of sunshine and singing, yes, literally singing, down the sidewalk I’m calculating our next move. When we feel a little tension we usually just laugh it off because at the end of the day I can’t totally pull off the Type A thing. But someone has to lead the ship right?! So as far as our planning and stuff has gone, I have sort of fell into this role.

So we hit the sky tomorrow. I am pretty pumped…it is different not going solo. I do feel a little more secure than usual–which is nice. We’ll see how we do…and what we think of eachother after 5 straight weeks together!

Countries planned:

Thailand
Cambodia
Vietnam

To be determined…
Malaysia
Bali
Laos

Stay tuned…typically I like to blog a lot about my travels!

 

What if…the Sex and the City Girls Dated an Indian guy?

Though you may love or loathe ‘em, I’m an unabashed fan of the Sex and the City gals have had a ton of fun following them over the years. At the very least, I think they cracked open alternatives for women and posed some good questions about dating, love, sex, and relationships. As I was thinking about the opening of the movie a few weeks ago (heart palpitations), I wondered…what if one of the girls had dated an Indian guy?
I’ve toyed around with several senarios in my mind…who would be most accepting of the culture? Who would bend to Indian ways (if necessary)? Who would offend? (heh hem that’s easy…I love her…but Sam!).
What do you guys think? Are you a Charolotte, a Carrie, and how to those traits manifest and play into your intercultural relationship (if at all)???

 

Don’t ask how I got on this subject…

..but I’ve been doing some mindless surfing on a site D recommended on another blog and found the answer to this interview question (by the author of “The Conscious Bride”) fascinating:

Do you think women still cling to the Cinderella image of the bride that we were all fed when we were little girls?

In my opinion, most women, no matter how educated and conscious and feminist they are, still cling to the Cinderella image somewhere in their psyche. The image is so deeply ingrained into our subconscious minds from the time we are little girls that it is virtually impossible to escape it. And this isn’t necessarily a “bad” or sexist thing. We need to make a distinction between wanting to look and feel beautiful on our wedding day and obsessively trying to achieve an impossible image of perfection. We all want to look beautiful on our wedding day, but the realistic woman allows for life and chaos to affect her day.

**************************************************************************
I thought about myself and my own Cinderella complex… I mean, I definitely have an “Occasional Big Bitch” complex but not so much Cindy. If I can be Nietzsche for a moment, I usually think, “Cinderella is dead” (the rest if you get over it).

I never really grew up with the Cindy myth. I was fat and painfully awkward in high school. I thought dating was for everyone else and abstract obsessions over guys were exclusive for me. My dad never treated me like a princess…at all. Never did, never has. Frankly he treats me like a guy who needs to go out, bring home the bacon, and be entirely self sufficient (never mind my brother who is sitting on a self-absorptive meditative cloud in China fully funded by pops).

Even though I’ve changed, got my body healthy, and I guess am pretty cute (R makes me feel like freggin’ Heidi Klum), I can’t ever shake some of those adolescent impressions. Many people will tell you, if you’ve ever been fat and not so good looking in your life (especially early in life) — it never leaves you. You never forget how people treat you better (some like royalty) if you lose 30 lbs. You never forget that social shift and how you always, essentially feel like the same you.

At one time in my life I was very idealistic. Idealism can be a trap though. I’ve lowered a lot of expectations and the basic thing I want, if I ever get married, is for my parents to do their best to behave normally. Specifically, my mother has drifted through her life as an anxious borderline and this would be the only time I would ever have to suffer the effects of it again. Everything else–I got down in my own life.

In some ways maybe my dysfunctional family prevented my having a Cinderella complex. Maybe if you never know what it’s like to be a princess you’ll never really know how to act like one. Maybe if you get hurt enough you realize the myth is dead.

As I was laying in bed last night, thinking about all I’ve been through, I can’t imagine having a feeling that could ever trump the sheer gratitude and wonder I feel for finding my perfect mate.

 

Six Unspectacular Quirks Meme

My buddy Gori “tagged” me to do this fun little thing that has you list six quirks about yourself. Since I have the computer skills of a caveman, I don’t know how to tag six more people, so I’ll just ask them at the end of listing my six quirks :). Here’s Gori’s post:

http://gorigirl.com/why-is-the-goat-wearing-a-sweater-six-unspectacular-quirks-meme

And my own responses:

1. I’m the only American who gains weight in India. It’s true. I get food poisoning like 4 times a year in the States, but in India? Perfect bill of abdominal health…so perfect I stuff myself with the delicious food and grow extra curry filled padding. It baffles even the best of travelers in India.

2. I would probably date 2/3 of the guys on Beauty and the Geek.

3. I don’t like to share my soup with my boyfriend or anyone else for that matter. One day, R kindly asked me if I’d like to try some of his soup and I responded coldly: “I don’t share soup.” The whole idea of licking someone’s soup utensil repulses me.

4. I have taken a whiz in some of the most creative, exotic places in the world. I’m not sure if this is because I never made it past the phallic stage, or if it’s simply a survival skill (I do have to pee… A LOT).

5. Whenever I am chatting with more traditional Indians I often catch myself jerking my head, side to side, often as they do when they speak. Some people call this “The Indian Head Bob.” I’ve seen it many times and now I tend to subconsciously participate in it (not every Indian does this of course, but I’ve noticed a definite pattern). Sometimes I even do the “Head Bob” when I’m just talking about Indian culture in general.
*Other things I find myself doing when interacting with more traditional Indians: doing the “hand flip” and saying “Ok ok ok” over and over.

And my final quirk…

6. Have you MET my boyfriend?

OK now….

6mile

Ara

CaliforniaTransplant

JukeboxJournal

sf

D

Ok now I know some of you don’t have a blog, so if you want you can just reply with your quirks in my comments section… no one HAS to do these either!!! Hhehe…

 

The Art Heist

Many moons (years) ago I spent two solid days working on a painting for my then boyfriend, The Pilot. It was a huge, 3.5 X 5 canvas with tons of swirls, colors, and other intriguing things. After a laborious completion I said tongue and cheekily, “If we ever break up I’m taking this back!!” He reluctantly agreed.

Well we did break up about 4 months later and I forgot about the promise until I forgot about him–or so I thought. When the fundraiser ball & action I participated in rolled around, I thought getting that painting back and raffling it off would be a great way to fulfill the promise we made and raise some money for a good cause. I had heard through the grape vine that he had no clue what to do with the painting anyway (i.e. “What do I tell my next girlfriend? My ex made this?) So, I thought I’d do him a favor and take the painting off his hands. When I inquired about it through the grape vine, Pilot confirmed it was ok to come over and get it whenever.

Well I had hemmed and hawed about the right time to get it back. Since he lived with a friend of mine, I would wait until he was out of town and just pick it up when the roommate was home. I would call the roommate here and there and wait for a window of opportunity when the Pilot was tooling around thousands of feet up in the air.

After a stressful day of work my buddies and I went straight for the margaritas. I went straight for 4 and decided it was then the perfect time to call Pilot’s roommate and pick up my painting. Only until I stumbled out into the blizzard cold did I realize how drunk I was. Nonetheless, I was on a mission and on my way to Pilot’s house.

When I got to his place, J greeted me at the door. Having seen me 3-sheets multiple times before, he was unfazed. I stumbled around with a sinking, weird feeling–first time I’d ever been back in that place since the royal dumping. Seeing his shoes jolted me.

I saw the painting and swayed as I dismantled it from the wall. I also then noticed a few other things…he had kept all the travel trinkets I had ever given him in the same spots on the fireplace mantle (wasn’t he dating someone else? He shouldn’t have those up.) I asked J what else he still had around and he shrugged. I checked around. Pilot still had all the magnets I had given him on the fridge. And, from a preschool class visit I orchestrated, “Thanks for coming Pilot!” pictures adorned his wall.

I then made the unequivocal decision that he should not have these things, these memorabilia’s of me.

With that, I proceeded to stuff my backpack full of wooden Russian trinkets, a moose statue, preschool class pictures, magnets, and any other lingering token of myself in his apartment. With my backpack full J looked at me perplexed. I declared I was, “Helping Pilot…he shouldn’t have these things around.” J just shrugged and said, “Ok”—nothing fazes the guy.

I scooped up the painting and made my way out the door–backpack full of trinkets and stomach full of pride. The winds had picked up, sleet filled the street, and snow swirled around my dizzy head. It’d be a tough walk home but I was invincible, I was drunk.

Somehow I remember crossing a street, honking, a dumpster, and waking up just a few hours later tp go to work at 7am. Pain and that “day after sinking feeling” greeted me. I couldn’t quite remember the details of the evening until I saw my backpack and preschoole drawings strewn about…it all starting coming back piece by piece. Had I REALLY done this?! Yes, yes I had.

I remembered my mission: the painting. I scanned the room. No painting.

Looked in the other room. No painting.

That’s it. I only have a two room studio.

I looked outside my apartment. Nothing.

Where was the painting?

I had to get ready for work–quickly. As I made it out the door I realized…

I had somehow managed to “lose” the gigantic painting on the way home last night.

I pieced the evening together for my work friends. They were amused, stunned, humored, but not surprised. Just another typical night in the life of single NK…

My BFF told me I needed to apologize to Pilot. I hadn’t done a good thing. I knew she was right, so I would start to remedy the situation then and there. An email would do.

“Dear Pilot,

I am sorry that I went over to your house and took a few things that I interpreted were…mine. If it helps to understand, I did end up losing, yes losing, the painting on the way home. I am very sorry that I invaded your space and I promise to never drink profusely and ransack your house again. If you want any of your things back, please let me know and I can drop them off.

Regards,
NK

*ok the email was a little more eloquent than that, but you get the idea.

Pilot replied a few days later. my heart sunk when I saw his name in my inbox.

“Hey NK,

No problem… I think we both know I’ve done some stupid things under the influence too. If you could just please drop off the preschool pics in my mailbox, I really liked them.

Pilot”

Whew. Once again, I had managed to rise from the flames without the influence of law enforcement.

The problem of the painting lingered.

Days went by, I retraced my steps, searched the streets, building hallways, dumpsters and came up with nothin. I remember fumbling with it as I left Pilot and J’s house. Did I set it down to pee by a dumpster? (I have been known to urinate in public on several occasions when drunk and otherwise…) Did I THROW it in a dumpster? WTF?!??!!

In a last ditch effort I posed a note in my building above the mailboxes:

Hello neighbors–

I seemed to have misplaced a large, 3X5, colorful canvas painting. If you do come across it outside, in the hallway, or even in a nearby dumpster can you please retrieve it and place it outside 4Q’s door?

No questions asked. Thank you!

The next day there was a 3X5, colorful canvas painting outside my door and it was mine.

No note, no explanation, no questions. Just the painting, unscathed.

*************************************************************************

The painting sold for 300 bucks at the ball and aution. My antics? Priceless.

 

Book club anyone?

Wow, I think it’s absolutely imerpative that I read this book:

DAILY AFFLICTIONS:
The Agony of Being Connected to Everything in the Universe

A dark, twisted, existential manifesto posing as a book of daily inspiration.

Revolutionizing the best-selling genre, this thinking man’s parody hijacks the format of daily affirmations, but offers a different message: only in paradox, truth; only in darkness, light; only in affliction, affirmation. These “daily afflictions” offer readers inspiration, practical advice, and food for thought, as they navigate the jungle of existential terror that begins anew each day.

We follow the fictional Brother Void on a spiritual journey, both profound and hilarious, into self, family, love, career, death–and finally, Enlightenment. We learn to “listen to our inner critic,” appreciate “the nurturing power of dysfunctional families,” “love the wrong person,” “succeed at failure,” “embrace our inner corpse,” and finally withstand the “agony of being connected to everything in the Universe.”

Part spiritual autobiography, part ironic meditation, this tragi-comic guide to life’s sublime predicaments will elevate and educate the spirit.

The truth will set you free, Brother Void reminds us, but first it will hurt like hell.

 

Leaning Towards the Light

My main man (R) and I frequently discuss books, blogs, and generally like to tinker around in the world of ideas together. As ENFP idealists sometimes our thinking is shockingly similar. Other times, our thoughts vary considerably upon the idealist spectrum. As idealists are often prone to bouts of darkness and cynicism, different things trigger our negative buttons.

R has an extremely high tolerance for accepting people the way they are whereas I find myself constantly disgruntled by certain types of people, judgemental of certain behaviors, and on a more positive note, an advocate or catalyst for change when needed (upcoming post on The Empowerment Model). I started calling R steamboat because he is so slow to judge, takes a lot of time to gather information, think, and all the while gives people the ultimate benefit of the doubt about 98% of the time. Being a speedboat, I tend to make faster assessments, which are, well, often correct and Steamboat eventually gets there :), but when my judgements are wrong they can be damaging and discrediting (and I feel like a fool).

There are times when R is light and I am dark and times when I am dark and he is light. It all depends on the topic :). As idealists though, we try with all our intellectual and emotional might to lean towards, well, the light.

Ara asked me to write a little something about how to get through tough stuff, how to not let the bastards get ya down. I heard someone once say, as you get older life gets harder. I don’t think it’s necessarily related to the fact that with age you tend to have more responsibilities, either. I remember nothing more freeing than to be out from under the sometimes psychotic wing of my family and on my own supporting myself. Life gets harder as you get older because I think you become more aware of your own limitations and mortality essentially. In my profession, I see all that can go wrong with individuals, families, and children in a very intense, sometimes overwhelming way. The more I learn what’s at stake through loving and losing, doing and undoing, coming and going, the more I realize living should be a serious, deliberate event.

Recently, Rich Melman, the founder of Lettuce Entertain You Enterprises, was interviewed and he spoke of how he infuses the therapeudic approach with his business model. Melman said he believes that YOU are the center of all things. Much like Goethe, he suggested that HE controls the climate, HE creates his mood, HE is the decisive element, HE determines his response in all situations.

So keeping these ideas in mind, that I am the center of my universe and you are of yours, I think we can really do anything.

Faith is something I have a little trouble with. I love the idea of karma because it’s input/output…it’s what you do that matters. I’m not so great with the notion of giving up control and the merits of my own personal responsibility to a God. I come from a background where it was suggested that everything was up to God. God chose people to be poor, God chose people to be with horribly selfish and mentally ill spouses, God chose our professions, God chose who could go to college or not, God sometimes even chose what to wear that day. It not only seemed illogical to think God was so personal to interact with our wardrobes, but God seemed like kind of a scapegoat for many people who would not or could not accept personal responsibility. God’s incomprehensible, benevolent plan seemed to be the perfect explanation for our own shortcomings, misfortunes in life that were often so heavy and daunting.

As I get older though, I do detect some need for faith, for a mechanism that suggests some things are truly beyond our control. Given what I know of faith and some of its followers, I’ll admit, I’m not the first in line to trust God. However, this week, I received a thoughtful email from a faithful follower who has taken personal responsibility for his life, supported his family justly and compassionately, and has been very kind towards me. As we exchanged a few philosophic musings, in the end we agreed that we can do our best but essentially must trust God.

For the sake of levity, I didn’t admit that I haven’t built that trust so much. But I do, ultimately trust myself. However, as I said, I do see the need to find a Light to lean towards. I’m just not sure if that’s something that comes from inside my self…or beyond. Perhaps the Light comes from both.

 

Guest blogger!

Hey all, I’ve been guest bloggin’ over at my buddy Gori’s site. Check it out!

http://gorigirl.com/hes-soooo-indian