Still Bangkoks Pouring Rain

Somehow the rain now reminds me of Thailand.
The storm today brought back vivid memories of my trips. The islands, Bangkok, it was always raining or at least it seems it always was.

The people there have a sixth sense when it comes to the weather. But of course they should being that for many of them their livelihood depends on being able to sell their wares out in the elements. The ratio of street vendors to actual shopfronts is amazingly huge. Very few can afford to have an actual locking door or inner sanctum to their shop so the streets are packed with street vendors.

I remember one late afternoon Samantha and I had returned from a small trek that we had taken to a temple north of Bangkok. We had decided to sit in a small restaurant (restaurant meaning a place that has a kitchen housed inside a building but still no aircon, no bathrooms, nothing fancy, and most of the seating is on the patio/sidewalk) have a cool drink and talk about our trip to the temple. We had just returned from the Tiger Temple, Wat Pa Luangta Bua Yanasampanno Forest Monastery, in Saiyok District of Kanchanaburi Province. To be exact. ;) I really have no idea where that is but I do know where the website is so check it out if you're interested. http://www.tigertemple.org/Eng/ cut and paste yo!

Samantha had walked with the abbot and one of the tigers as they were escorting the tiger back to his digs. There is a picture of her doing it. One of the few i managed to save from her pyschotic need to erase all pictures starring herself. It had been raining at the temple. Usually the tigers were lying around sunning themselves in the heat but because of the rain they were up and pacing and quite interested in what was going on. The cubs in particular were fun to watch. They were trying to attack the raindrops as they plopped in the puddles and mud around them. They were very cute but lets keep in mind here that these tigers were on 10ft chains and we were sitting on makeshift benches 25ft away. No walls. No fences. Just 30 or so chains holding the 30 or so tigers to their particular spots. Interesting experience to say the least. We had a lot of fun.

So later that day, Samantha and I were sitting at a red plastic table on the sidewalk of koh sahn road sipping our drinks (I think she had a Pepsi and a watermelon shake while I had my usual mango shake. Shake meaning fruit and ice blended, no dairy) and talking about the tigers and the rain and our upcoming flight down to the islands. As I looked around I noticed that most of the street vendors had started to pull out plastic tarps and were rigging them up over their stands. It had been raining up north but there wasn't a cloud that I could see in Bangkok. About ten minutes later the sky opened up and threw down a massive amount of water. It rained for 4 or 5 hours, only slowing down to a drizzle by the time we fell asleep.

I vividly remember the smell of Bangkok in the rain. The feeling of walking between the stalls on the sidewalks under the rain tarps. The air was sticky and hot, so heavy it felt like a physical presence. There was almost a claustrophobic feeling because of the tunnel like atmosphere that the rain tarps created. Every once in a while there would be a break in the tunnel, people crowded around it, either waiting for a the rain to let up or taking in as much of the fresh air as possible before pushing back into the next section of souvenir bliss.

The air smelled like a mixture of spices, rain, incense, sweat and depending on where you were standing, garbage. But every now and again there was the scent of sandalwood oil coming from one of the massage parlors or the smell of fried spring rolls and noodles. The stalls were an eclectic combination of goods. Small brown wooden frogs carved by hill tribe people that make the exact noise of a croaking frog when you rattle a stick down the ridges down its back were sitting next to the newest burns of American music. The people call out to you in English offering deals and bargains for tailor made suits and ballgowns. Tuk-tuk drivers hollering "50 baht! Tour of city!". Beautiful Thai girls dressed in short skirts and tube tops passing out bright pink and yellow flyers about the hottest new dance clubs and drink specials. Just an everyday night in Bangkok.

That is what the rain in Arizona makes me think of.

We Follow Our Heroine...

The last few weeks have been trying.
It seems to me that the more I try to change particular things about my life the more they bite me in the butt later on. I'd like to claim that I am innocent but I must admit to being present at the helm of my own well being. I might be emotionally freaked out and oblivious but it is still me guiding my ship.

I had a wee break down last week. (I have to wonder if this has anything to do with the lack of drugs. I've been completely off of the anti-depressants for a week or so now. I don't discount this as a part of my teeny meltdown but I don't think it was the main cause.)

I don't know how much more abuse I can take on the subject of my ex. Its not that he's deliberately attacking me or even talking to me. We haven't talked since I kicked him in a sensitive area, told him to loose my number and never talk to me again. Needless to say we haven't kept up a pen pal relationship. But regardless I keep hearing things about him and about his life through other people.

I learned recently that there was a high possibility that david fathered a child while living with me. This is probably what started the blubbering and self abuse for me again. Not only did he not respect me enough to break it off with me before messing with other women but he didn't use any protection either. So much for all those people who told me not to worry about getting tested after he and I broke up.
What a terrible reason to say I told you so. (I must add that it is also probably not true after all for whatever reason. Confusing? Join the club.)

I think that it was the amount of disrespect that went into the act of his cheating that has been holding me back from somehow recovering. What did I do to deserve that kind of treatment? Why wasn't I good enough? Talk about a complex. Too fat? Not good enough in bed? Not funny enough? Or maybe its just him. Heaven forbid it has nothing to do with me. It's much to difficult to imagine that the entire situation had to do with his stupidity, immaturity, and all around sociopathic tendencies.

I think I'm tired of complaining about this subject in general. How long does it take to get over people? How long does your inner self carry the torch? Or perhaps its just that the torch that you carry gets smaller and smaller until you are eventually just carrying a lit match. I'm somewhere in between now. I know time heals all wounds but time is annoyingly slow when it comes to the subject of the heart. I wish someone would invent the 'get over your heartache quick' pill.