Onward to Expatriatism

Alrighty, I've got a little bit of time to write down some words before I'm off to dinner with my new friends from New York. I don't think the blog site is displaying the correct time for my posts, but right now it's about 6:15 in the p.m., which means y'all are just about to wake up on Monday morning over there in the States. I started writing shit down the day before I left Gainesville, but I don't think anybody gives a shit about the last moments of my much-maligned, and less than bitter-sweet return to Hogtown, so I'll just tell you briefly about my trip over here and then I'll get to what I'm really supposed to be talking about: Siam.

The voyage started off with a restless night tossing and turning at Penny and Papa Saier's house, sharing a bed with Maxwell the Schnauser, sneaking out to the porch to smoke the occasional bowl. I have to admit, I was getting pretty fuckin nervous about traveling to the opposite side of the earth by myself, and Penny's constant worry-fits weren't helping a damn sight. My last night basically consisted of me getting stoned and wondering if I was doing the right thing (I am), my mom running around spouting nonsense about Thai prisons and malaria, and my Dad sitting indifferently on the couch watching Monday Night Football with his hand down his pants. Wasn't the most relaxing evening, and the fact that I didn't even start packing until 10 o'clock at night for a flight that left at 7 the next morning didn't make things any smoother. Anyhow, long story short, we got up the next morning around 5, drove to the Gainesville Airport, said our goodbyes, and I was off.

Blog Schmog

How the hell am I supposed to keep a blog when I'm having so much friggity FUN!!! Bear with me folks, haven't had time to sit down long enough to write anything of substance, but soon to come: thai massages, traffic you wouldn't believe, sweaty balls, the mall, whiskey, New Yorkers, Scots and some Dutch, THC, monks, rats, white elephants, malaria, and opium!!! Stay tuned!

Give 'em hell, son!

That's what Papa Saier said to me as we parted ways with a brief man-hug and some hearty pats on the back at the airport in Gainesville. Best advice he ever gave me. Welcome to my Sklog. Feels a little silly caving in to the obsessive phenomenon that is blogging, but at several people’s insistence, I’m giving it a shot. I have to admit, though, it is a little therapeutic getting some thoughts down after the overwhelming experience of the last coupla days, what with the thirty-odd hours in four different planes over 12 different time-zones, an onslaught of bloody marys and old-fashioneds, sleeping in strange airports, mother-fucking customs, discovering new smells and stenches, having my innards raped by spicy foods I thought I could handle, spraying my butt with a sink-hose (I know I’m fucking crude, and if you plan on reading anymore get used to it), never-ending jetlag with no marijuana, tuk-tuks (or, as I mistakenly referred to them my first day to Berm's amusement, hyuk-hyuks) and over-all, being the minority after 28 years of comfortable majority-ness, and a tall minority at that. I swear, I'm the tallest human being in this country.
I’ve been here in Chiang Mai, Thailand’s proclaimed intellectual and cultural capital, for a little over two days now, and needless to say I’ve barely scratched the surface. So, where to fucking begin, indeed. Some of these entries will be a couple of days dated, because although I’ve been writing since I left the States, I just now got my interweb up and running. So, enjoy these thoughts; I hope they entice you to come join me, and if you’ve been here already (Stu, Jody, Mike, whomever) feel free to add your insight or interpret/correct my observations. Oh, and pics are soon to come, as soon as I figure it out, so for now just use those imaginations.