Asians: the Superior Race

Everybody, I mean EVERYBODY in Thailand can do this. I am envious.

When I die, I am tracking down George Orwell

Because that man was awesome. Truly awesome.

I have always loved Animal Farm and 1984, and recently told Son #2 that he had (HAD! NOW!) to read 1984. I scoured the house because I know we had a copy but it was gone...

Anyway. Found a copy of 1984 on Freecycle, told Son #2 to read it and then promptly holed up in my bedroom with it for the next couple of nights, because I LOVE IT SO MUCH AND I COULD NOT HAND IT OFF.

It's a great book. If you haven't read it yet, please, do not continue suffering. Read it. Love it. Discuss it.

I have probably read it 7 or 8 times, over the past 25 years. And so, well, there are parts of it, the reading of which is almost liturgical, for me. I know what is coming. I relish it. I expect it. It is fulfilling.

But then there is that one scene which sends a chill through me, every time. Did it again, this past week. I am not going to tell you which scene, because Son #2 is still reading.

Yesterday I started reading Burmese Days, another Orwell book but one I'd not read before. I am loving it, too, partially because

(oh geez, here she goes)

it reminds me of Thailand: the scenery, the culture, and the obnoxious attitudes of so many of the foreigners. Can't wait to see how it goes.

Had a great conversation with Fiddlin' Writer, today. She makes me want to write--makes me remember I want to write. Thank God for inspiration.

Oh, and I just fired up the grill for the first time in probably 2 years. Burgers, baby. And char.

Mixed feelings, oh, yeah, I got 'em

Part of me can understand and even support the "buy Black" movement this couple hopes to launch.

But if I said, "Let's only buy white", would I get that kind of happy coverage? Would I DESERVE that kind of coverage? Of course not. And I say that as someone who once knew just about every white person in the city where I lived (because I was living in Asia at the time)...it never crossed my mind that I should support white businesses just because they were white.

Ya know why? Because that is racist.

Snacks, but no crackers.

Today Hubby asked me to drive to Wheaton with his amplifier. I could tell he felt bad, sending me on a long drive, but...honestly I love to drive, and I love being in the DC 'burbs.

The repair place thought, briefly, that they'd be able to fix his amp while I waited, so I hit four (count 'em! four!) ethnic markets before finding out that no, the amp is going to require a lot more help and parts from distant lands.

I now have rose water and orange blossom water on my desk, and my wrists reek of orange blossoms.

I have halva, which is delicious, and 2 of the sons agree with me that it tastes just like insides of a Butterfinger bar. I am guessing that is where the Butterfinger people got the idea.

The freezer has all manner of frozen Asian meaty things, which I can just pop in the toaster oven. and I have Indian curry awaiting the microwave.

I have a bag full of a vegetable I buy in large part because the name sounds, to English-speakers, obscene. But, yeah, they are delicious, too. Points to anyone who can guess what they are.

I have cheese and meat from the Italian deli where my grandmother used to buy her refrigerated pizza dough. They still sell the dough. And I just discovered today that Hubby used to go there for lunch, in high school. Small world, man. I wonder if I ever saw him in there.

Unlike the Happy Boondocks, where I almost seem ethnic myself, in Wheaton I was clearly a member of the Boring White Minority. Which was interesting.

I am home, stuffed, beat, but satisfied. And already planning my next trip to The Big City...

Because I Once Lived Overseas

Hubby and I lived in Thailand for a little over three years. Son #1 was born there.

When people hear this, they very often say something about how it must have been an amazing, life-changing experience. And it was. But to be honest, many of the changes were not all that huge and meaningful. So, hey, here's a handful.

Because I once lived overseas:

I wear jeans all summer. Hardly ever bother to buy shorts. About halfway through my spin class, I start to sweat like I used to sweat, standing around at work in Thailand. So, you know, it's not that hot, ok?

I don't need a tan. Thais think pale skin is beautiful. They like big noses, too. Somehow, though, that combination did not turn me into The Sex Goddess of Thailand. But, hey, at least I will probably not be all wrinkly and cancerous when I am 60.


I make really good fried rice. I have a few other dishes I can whip up, but the fried rice was the hardest one to learn how to do. I had no idea it would be so difficult. So I am especially proud of it. Come over, and I'll make you some.

I was once kicked out of a women's clothing store for being so fat they had nothing to offer me, and the saleslady was afraid I would scare off customers. At the time, I weighed 120 lbs and was an American size 9.


I have cursed a man out for copping a feel. People in Thailand assume, thanks to Hollywood, that American women will fuck anything. So, you know, if you sit next to the bus driver, he will grab whatever he can reach. That happened enough times that I stopped sitting next to the bus driver :) One day, I was walking with Son #1, who was an EXTREMELY ADORABLE baby, if I may say so myself, and a man asked to hold him. This happened ALL the time. Thai people LOVED Son #1. As well they should.

Turns out, though, that the man only wanted to hold my baby as an excuse to run his hands across my chest, at length, when he returned said baby to me.

I yelled at him. Something along the lines of, "Hey! Don't do that! That's rude!" But then I realized: I am way angrier than that. And I do not know how to communicate that, in Thai. I did not know a single Thai obscenity. But you know what? I knew a LOT of them, in English. And I let him hear every last one of them. At top volume. While jabbing my finger at him with one hand, and holding my baby on the opposite hip. Boy, did he apologize. I backed that man down the street for quite some time, and didn't care HOW rude I was being to him or WHAT anyone else might think. That was SOME FUN.


I know what it feels like to be tall. When I got off the plane in Bangkok, I could see over just about everyone. It was awesome. I loved being tall. Because at 5'3", I do not get that experience very often at all. It was, I will say, fantastic, except for one time. And that is a story for another post.


I have no sympathy for illegal aliens. We knew a guy who let his visa lapse, in Thailand. All of us, every foreigner he knew, let him know that he was being irresponsible and stupid, and that he was disrespecting Thai law. We gave him boatloads of grief, until he got his visa stamp and was legal again. Yes, people have lots of lovely reasons for what they do. I don't care. My family came here legally. I lived abroad legally. Get in line, folks.

There are probably lots more things I could mention, here, but...this is just a blog break before I get back to work. May Deadlines kick my butt something royal, every year, and this is no exception. So, hey, maybe I will do this again, sometime.