meet the chairman

Last week my life was so boring I had to write about a movie I saw, but not this week. This week I don't even know where to start, so much has happened. There must have been a bottleneck in the cosmos or something, a kink in my hose of happening stuff.

First of all, I went to Wat Po. Wat Po is the famous Thai temple with the famous gigantic gold-leafed reclining Buddha in it. I took lots of pictures but my camera finally went to 7th heaven, so I can't post any pics. Anyway, it's typical that I'd start off the week so Zen, then spend the rest of it doing things that diametrically oppose the very foundation of Buddhism vis-a-vis the concept of desire as suffering and the rejection of material possessions as the path to enlightenment and all that jazz. Anyway.

Besides looking at the Buddha you can get a massage at Wat Po, because there's a proper massage school there. Luckily, Roget informed my massage lady in Thai that I had a sore back, so she could begin poking her spindly little fingers into my spinal muscles straight off the bat instead of wasting time with that relaxing shoulder rubbing baloney. In retrospect, it's quite possible he said something other than 'my girlfriend has a sore back'. Something like 'make fat farang girl squeal like stuck pig'.

Anyway, it hurt. She twisted my back into a pretzel shape and dug into my hamstrings and pushed her hands actually into my stomach to reach some back muscle, because your stomach bone's connected to your spine bone, apparently. I survived though, and the feeling in my legs is slowly returning. No, I feel good now. But at the time I kept thinking of Itchy & Scratchy.

Secondly, which is probably the biggest deal if you measure things monetarily, as I do, is the Mustang. This is really Roget's thing - my thing by association, though. It was quite surreal. Sunday night he's on the interweb drooling at cars, Monday night we're driving home (and suffering mild carbon dioxide poisoning) in a Mustang. It doesn't have seatbelts or a left windscreen wiper or any lining in the trunk or hazard lights or a handbrake or a working left window and we have to propel it with our feet like the Flintstones, but whatever. Mustang!



Thirdly, we went to an Indian wedding reception which had a twelve-tier, like five metre tall wedding cake (I'm not exaggerating - they cut the cake with a sword. A SWORD!), a powerpoint presentation of the wedding, a brazillion sari'd women in the Grand Ballroom of the Sheraton, free food and alcohol and plenty of disapproving looks at the two western women who must be sluts because you can see their necks/knees. Spent most of the night with Biddy down in the cocktail area where I got drunk and instead of asking for two waters, asked for two toilets.

Fourthly, Chairman Meow, ie. the bit where my blog devolves into daily pictures of and musings about my cat and what he's thinking and how he's really like a person and how cute he looks climbing up the curtains. I saw him at the cat society and since it was the week of parting with vast amounts of money, I decided there was something cool about being broke and hungry while your designer cat hides under the furniture oblivious to his $15 kibbles (no matter how many we throw at him).

I'm sure he'll start paying for himself in love and companionship as soon as I can extract him from under the sideboard. So far threatening him with torture hasn't worked, but I'm sure once we demonstrate to him with stuffed animals what we do to those who don't comply (strangulation, hanging, decapitation, destuffing etc) he's sure to come round. Isn't he cuuuuuuuuute? More pictures when my camera reincarnates as a new, better one (expected to occur sometime after pay day).



bye!