Land of Spicy Curry and the Two-Dollar Handjob (oftentimes at the same time, I'm told), and soon to be Land of Lost Green Haired Girl and Oversized White Boy Friend - Thai Thai, you have no idea what's coming for you.
A dear friend is traveling the world, and finally giving me an excuse to spend every dime in my possession to fly to the Orient and tear some shit up. In turn, he is also giving me an excuse to use the term 'The Orient,' which I will continue to boast as the perfect descriptive word pairing for the island paradise I will dip my hungry tongue into come mid-November.
This has no relevance whatsoever.
My mother, after railing me* for twenty minutes about the monetary downfalls of spending all my pennies on a frivolous trip to a cultural gold mine I've been dying to visit for the last four years, decided to give up by saying simply, 'I don't know why you even want to go there. It's dirty.' Frankly I'm proud of her for not being more concerned about the fact that I'll be traveling alone to a very foreign country, and in the dead of nite, no less.
For whatever reason, I've managed to purchase a plane ticket that gets me into Bangkok at 1:10am. At first thought, this doesn't seem like the safest decision, but the airport isn't usually the site for most stolen-into-sex-slavery crimes, right? No? Seems more reserved for dark damp alleys and the armpits of freeway overpasses. Plus we all know I can overpower a tiny Asian man. And that's not even racist, it just means I'm a beast when necessary.
As a lovely consolation, my co-worker informed me that if I do in fact get kidnapped and subsequently sexed up by Thais and tourists, at least they'll hook me on heroine first. So I'll have that going for me. At least I can sleep soundly..knowing that. If nothing else I'll come back with a new addiction and a penchant for undersized schlong.** Afterall, the nurses always say I have good veins. (This is in reference to the addiction, not the schlong. Was that clear?)
But none of this concerns me. Not the fact that I might not be able to pay rent now when I lose my job in December, and not the sinking realization that I shouldn't spend a nickel for the next two months before I go. Not the idea that consuming such foreign food and drink could make me sick for half my trip, and certainly not the worry that ohmygodwhatifican'tfindjoshintheairportwhenigettobangkok?!
Mostly I'm just imagining all the beaches, rainforests, local folks and NOODLES I'm sure to devour, and how much I won't care if any of the above gives me diarrhea or typhoid.
Because I'm finally going to Thailand.
And I'd rather have Thaiphoid than no phoid at all.
*Usually I reserve the term 'railing' for aggressive albeit delicious sexual intercourse-type activities, and I'm abhorred at the fact that I've put it in the same sentence as 'my mother.' Not enough to remove it. Because I"m twisted like that.
**I realize this is 100% inappropriate. But it's who I am, and I don't know how to change that.***
***It's not that I don't know HOW to change it, it's just that I don't want to.
4 comments:
Youre special. And don't die please.
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