I remember when, I remember, I remember... when in the course of human events

Today, the 13th anniversary of the tragic September 11th/nine-eleven/World Trade Center however-you-personally-like-to-say-it terrorist attacks on multiple U.S. cities that caused the deaths of thousands, has turned into a veritable "Where I was when" fest on the ol' Facebook. Rather than add to that with a mere status update, I thought I'd give a quiz about where I was during some of the big news events of the Generation X Lifetime. I'll tell you my vivid memory of where I was when... and you see if you can determine what newsworthy event happened when I remember Where I Was When it happened.  (Small prize to the winner!)
note: events are in chronological order, which might help you figure them out...

1. Phoenix. Home sick from elementary school that day. Watching an Indiana Jones flick, I think on, like, The Movie Channel, in our Villa Rita house living room when Grandma called to see if we were watching the news. Since we weren't, she informed my mother what had happened, and needless to say Mom hurried in, shut off the movie, and turned to some broadcast network or other. How will I ever know what happened to Indy, mom?!?! Does he vanquish the enemy and get the girl and save the treasure or what? Before Setpember 11th, this event was often described as "my generation's" Kennedy-assassination-like moment, but I am going to demonstrate here that I remember where I was when I heard other news, too. This was the first biggie for people of a certain age (mine), though.

News Event? ______________  Year?  __________

2. Phoenix. Chez Marcia, one of my high-school best friends. Watching a little after-school Jeopardy (nerds then, nerds now, nerds forever!) on the small TV set her family had on the kitchen/breakfast nook counter. A breaking news alert meant we never did get that final jeopardy answer, but instead watched several hours of harrowing reporting from people who were indeed in real jeopardy.  (Now both Harrison Ford AND Alex Trebek have been interrupted. Is nothing sacred?)

News Event? ______________  Year?  __________

3. Provo, Utah. Walked into my friend Ranj's apartment and I distinctly remember being on the stairs next to her kitchen and she poked her head into the stairway to announce the news. She was either on the phone with her younger sister or had just got off the phone; said little sister had been plunged deep into mourning, for she had apparently just recently been to a concert where he waved at her... (She was probably already wearing black, though, to the best of my recollection of her wardrobe.)

News Event? ______________  Year?  __________

4. Back in Phoenix. Working at Best Western's reservations call center one seemingly normal evening, and suddenly the call volume just plummets. Nothing. The phone lines aren't dead, but nothing's coming in. Finally a guy calls, and as we're checking out his double room and continental breakfast options, he asks, "Are you watching this?"  I warily reply, "Watching...what?" Ahhhh. That explains it. I had a 15-minute break coming up; naturally, everyone in the break room downstairs was glued to the TV. Not that there was really anything happening, but that was kind of the point of this one. What was going to happen? Anything? Just keep moving, as they say.

News Event? ______________  Year?  __________

5. Phoenix. Listening to the radio this time, at home in the apartment I lived in with my mom on Thunderbird, getting ready to leave for class. I was an avid listener of the 106.3 The Edge morning show with Jayn Sayd and Dead Air Dave (Willobee having left for greener L.A. pastures). They read the news and I altered my morning radio routine just a little by turning on the living room TV to get some visuals and more details, though I kept the radio playing in the bedroom. And I totally remember lots of "Who's the Muslim?" speculation. (Not necessarily on the part of Jayn and Dave, just people in general.)

News Event? ______________  Year?  __________

6. Phoenix, but just in town visiting, staying with Mom at her 19th Avenue apartment. Very recently returned from Cuba (by like a week), I was trying to practice my Spanish one night. We were watching this already-starting-to-develop story on TV, and I had insisted on keeping it on the Spanish news channel for a bit, so I could impress myself with my new language listening skills, as opposed to my previous growing-up-in-Phoenix life in which I had always cruised right by the noticias en español. Well, I was letting the details wash over me aurally when suddenly the newscaster upped the ante and I sat bolt upright. "Mom!" I said, then repeated (in English) the devastating new detail in all its finality, adding, "I think that's what he said?!"  She quickly flipped to an English news station, which confirmed the sad news.

News Event? ______________  Year?  __________

7. Los Angeles. I had bizarrely fallen asleep with the TV on the night before, which was weird because at that time of my life I rarely if ever watched TV, let alone fell asleep with it on overnight. I had been drowsily continuing to sleep and drift with no real awareness of what the morning newscasts were saying until a sudden noise and clamor on the television was enough to jar me awake, around 7 a.m.. Took one look at the screen and then jumped out of bed and ran to look out the window, sure I was going to see bombs raining down from the sky over L.A., or some such thing.

News Event? ______________  Year?  __________

8. Boston. It was a Sunday morning and I was on my way to work at Borders, which entailed me taking a quick bus ride from my house to Harvard station, stopping by the in-subway little Dunkin' Donuts for my coffee, then proceeding through the station to catch the red line of the T. The station had that sleepy Sunday morning feel, with only alternative-shift kind of commuters like myself passing through. I'm not sure I'd ever noticed that there even were little TV sets anywhere in that station, but that day I realized the Dunkin' Donuts workers were watching this oh-so-satisfactory-to-many announcement.

News Event? ______________  Year?  __________

9. Andong, Korea. Way ahead of many of you time-of-day-wise, it was Monday morning for us. Brian and I were at home in our apartment, working on our various things. We often had CNN International on in the background, while also both being online; I was likely writing up and researching stuff for About.com, with multiple tabs open, and one of them was probably Facebook. In other words, the news suddenly came at us from several sources at once, but I definitely stepped out of our "study"/spare room into the living room where the TV was (and where Brian was) and we watched some footage of, as Brian called it (referencing his girl Miley), the "party in the U.S.A."

News Event? ______________  Year?  __________

10. Honorable mention: These two bits of breaking news weren't quite as major, no offense intended, but are memorable and particularly so for me because I was basically in the same place and circumstances, two years apart, for these eerily similar announcements. Both times, Brian and I were staying in our same beloved apartment-hotel in Phuket, Thailand. Both times, it just so happened that the TV was on with news in the background, I was focused on doing other stuff on my laptop, and Brian was lying  on the bed. Both times, the news appeared (thank goodness in English) on the screen and I said to Brian, "Hey, ________ Ho----n died!"  Both times, a similar tragic cause of death of not-that-far-apart-in-age people. 

News Events? _______________   Years? ___________

Well, ladies and gents, how did you do on the quiz?  And do you remember where you were when these things happened? 

Isn't it interesting to consider that in the course of all these newsworthy events, and despite my other ways of getting the news on multiple occasions, my reaction was always to get more details from television news? Talkin' bout my generation...I guess that's just how we do. (Some other generations do that, too.) Although I have logged fewer television-watching hours than many of my Gen-X cohorts, I recognize its place as a sort of "gathering" place for us all to watch, hear, learn, and experience when earth-shattering news happens. I used to think of breaking news on television as a kind of proxy for a town square, or suburban street, or dorm hallway, where instead of rushing out to say, "Oh my gosh, neighbors! This news!" we all watch from our own homes/workplaces and collectively experience it that way, and later talk face-to-face and remember together what we watched separately and yet kind of together. I suppose Facebook is kind of sort of where we do that now, although Facebook itself is still not really breaking news to us, just alerting us to "trending" things that we are all putting up there, news that we got from somewhere else first. Would I prefer to experience these things on my smartphone, tablet, or other handheld device? Abso-!@#$^&-lutely not. The time element is key: whatever was being broadcast over the airwaves, it was being broadcast at that time, and though some might have tuned in earlier than others, we then watched our many minutes or hours or days of coverage as they unfolded. Watching uploaded videos individually on our phones at our leisure removes that transmission (I'm sorry, millennials, should I say that "streaming"?) element from the collective experience. And although I have never really had to get earth-shattering news from the morning newspaper headlines, I definitely of an age where I liked to look to the morning paper for the details, the full story, the yellow ribbon on top of the front page of The Arizona Republic when the hostages in Iran were released (I was a tiny tyke -- that and John Lennon's death are basically the first news events that I remember, ever), or the Christmas Day end of the Soviet Union (who wants to blare TV news on Christmas? but reading the paper surrounded by a tree and opened presents seemed all right...)   I'm pretty sure I saved a few major The-Next-Day newspapers over the years, although I might have eventually recycled them, as I didn't find them while we were unpacking here in our new apartment in Chicago. We do have a television, though, and we watched Obama last night, talking to the nation about air strikes and ISIL...and so it goes, and so it goes.

Trouble in Paradise

Well, I don't want to fall off the blogging wagon (or is that get on the blogging wagon, if being on the wagon means you're not doing something? because then I'd be trying to avoid falling off the not-blogging wagon, right? OK, that's what I meant. ANYway...) but I've been a little busy and uninspired the past few days. Let's see what happened....

Our good friends Ann and Kyle, whom we first met in Korea and have since hung out with in two different cities in China, are on vacation in Phuket, so we all got to hang out in our third country together. Naturally, when you gather four expat teachers around a table, it's pretty easy to guess what sorts of beverages will be on that table. I spent more money and read fewer pages in the four days after their arrival than I really care to think about. But, a good time was had by all as we took second place at the weekly trivia night at Roxy Bar, spent an afternoon at Patong (including: barefoot lunch in the sand, sunset, and a game of pool at a shady bar once darkness fell), spent a day at Laem Singh (more barefoot lunch, they paddle boarded, and I flew! my first para-sailing adventure!), wandered the Phuket Old Town Festival that so nicely coincides with these Jan-Feb stints we like to have in this place (last time, in 2012, it fell on our first weekend here and we've since referred to it as our "welcome party"), and then, as if that weren't enough, set sail to Ko Phi Phi!

Yes, I'm still talking about the same four-day period. Naturally, Kyle and Ann planned to head to Phi Phi Don because they'd not seen it before on their first (lackluster, monsoon season) quick trip to Phuket. Brian and I had done a day trip to Phi Phi in 2012, but this time we decided to stay over in a bungalow and see what all the beach fuss was about. Oh, my god. The fuss, apparently, is about madness! Kyle said the beach smelled like "gasoline and bad decisions" and I'm inclined to agree.

First of all, though, I would like to confess that I am ever so slightly underwhelmed by the KPP. I can't tell you how much I heard about it being one of the best beaches in the world. At the risk of sounding spoiled, I've seen other beaches that pleased me just as much. Now, the rising limestone rock faces surrounding the cove are apparently what gets Phi Phi its accolades, as well as the by-all-accounts superb diving below the surface (of which I didn't partake -- we just kayaked and snorkeled a bit), but I just don't see the point of dragging all of those boats, people, food, drinks, infrastructure, construction, shops, etc. to this tiny spit of land. It seems better suited to be a day trip or camp-on-the-beach place. I've been hearing so much about how Thailand/Phuket are basically doing nothing wise with regard to the rampant development as tourists flock to this paradisiacal place that is going to be an environmental disaster in a few minutes here if someone doesn't start paying attention, and this hit me harder than ever at Ko Phi Phi.

It's like Obama all over again: while I appreciate Ko Phi Phi to a certain extent, it didn't captivate me. It's like I'm missing something that others see, which is generally how I felt whenever Barack opened his mouth in 2008. "But have you heard him speeeeeeeeeeeeak?" the people would swoon. Yes, yes I had. There was no there there, you might say. Funny enough, on the boat on the way to Phi Phi we got in just such a politically themed discussion, which ended with Kyle and I placing a bet on Hillary 2016.  He thinks she's going to win; I think she's not going to run. (Why? Because fuck all y'all, that's why. She should have been prez in 2008 and everyone knows it, including B & Michelle O.) She's fated to be like that other great HC in U.S. politics, Henry Clay, the great compromiser, the perhaps smartest and shrewdest of all the peeps of his time (up there with my boy JQA, at any rate), the hardest worker, the one who was destined to be president, like, four times in a row but was continually thwarted by upsarts (Van Buren, Polk) and assholes (Jackson) and other bizarre political circumstances.

Back to Phi Phi. As for the nighttime debauchery, there was certainly a lot of fire involved. Juggling fire, shooting flames on a lick of gasoline, spinning fire, flaming jump ropes, you name it. Where there's fire, there's bound to be smoke, and I'm sure that the lungs of many were indulging that night. Interestingly, while we were enjoying some beers at the Chillout Bar (I think that's what it was called), I looked around at the spectacle unfolding up and down the beach and stated that I felt reasonably certain someone somewhere was going all Walter White on this scene and that there was probably meth in the crowd. Upon returning to the mainland and picking up the latest Phuket News, I read two stories of recently busted meth dealers. So there's that.

It's not that I don't recommend going to Phi Phi, but I do recommend lowering your expectations bungalow wise, if you don't spring for a fancy resort, and I do hope you can handle the smell of more than a few bad decisions, most relating to sewage and other basic infrastructure delights that take on new meaning when you have thousands of revelers showing up on a sandbar. Meanwhile, Brian got food poisoning, and it seems most likely timing-wise that it was from something he ate there, which is perhaps adding to my negative take on these last few days. (And no, I'm not one of those people who calls every twinge of the gut food poisoning.)

And so we come to the one-week point:  one week left in Phuket (this time!). I have accomplished a bunch of things, and by a long shot I have not accomplished all of the things I had hoped to accomplish at the end of week three, let alone a full day into week four, but isn't that the nature of life and creativity and work and passion and also beer?

Furthermore, we had to face a tough decision here. On a whim, I applied for a newspaper editor position here and much to my delight/anguish, was offered the job. The unfortunate reality, beyond the low salary (not Mexico-teaching low, but lower-than-China-teaching low), is that I couldn't accept it because we have things to do at the moment, plans that can't be easily altered, a few engagements in the U.S., some life details to attend to, financial commitments, and so on, and one can't really ask an employer to hold a job for two months, now can one?  I had a majorly traumatic 48 hours trying to figure out how to make it work, and when I realized I couldn't make it work, I accepted that but still felt a little sad.

The moral of the story is: can we have a few more filtered water coolers and a whole lot less plastic tossed into the bins/street/ocean? Can we work on the public transit on this island and ditch the vast numbers of motos, private cars, and many accidents? (The having-to-get-a-car-if-we-live-here thing was part of the anguish, I might add, financially speaking. Why can't this place get some nice, clean shuttle buses going and discourage so much individual motorized transport? Also: bicycles, people! Bicycles! Alas, I know there's a rainy season...)  Can we please try to keep everything magic and beautiful?

I would, however, recommend that all the assholes in China who have the evil nerve to tie up their cats take a trip to Phuket and see how beautiful and glorious it is to let cats have their freedom to walk around to which they are entitled. There are plenty of Chinese tourists here; I hope they get inspired when they see cats living how they should live to tell friends back home to knock it off with the cruel restraints.

Thai it up!

It was said as she cleared our table, collecting the now-empty plates and flatware:
"You guys eat like Thai people!"

Brian and I smiled. What a fun (and funny) comment. We both think eating in Phuket is basically the best thing about being here, or at least in the top two. (Do we have to order them?  How do you rank paradise?) We definitely make use of the Thai condiments, and we can often be seen using the fork to push the food onto the spoon, and we absolutely like the things that pass our lips to be spicy. All I want out of my day is a Thai curry. (And to think I used to be so blase about Thai food, back in the L.A./Boston/New York day when I just seemed to prefer all my many other options so much more...but when it's fresh, delicious, on-the-spot, and a mere $2, it's hard to argue...)

We go to this particular restaurant in old town Phuket, called Wilai, at least once a week; it was one of the places we discovered two years ago on our first trip here and it was a no-brainer we'd go back now that we're Phuketting again. It's very popular with foreigners, but it's Thai food (which I do have to point out, because lots of cuisines are available here: burgers, Italian, Japanese, even a bit of Mexican at the popular beach areas...)   Earlier, when a different staff member had taken our order, she had clarified that we really wanted the food spicy (no, really) and I saw her cross out something in Thai she'd written at the top of the pad on which she was writing our order, which caused a good minute or two of speculation: I imagined a system in which they write "foreigner" at the top to warn the cooks, and I fantasized that she had crossed it out upon learning we really wanted spicy food...

So, to have at the end of that particular meal on that particular day another restaurant staffer just bust out the amused-and-pleased "you eat like Thai people!" and go on to explain that she saw us dipping our food in the spicy sauces just as the Thais apparently would was hilarious, indeed.

Less than two weeks remain this time around in Phuket. Is there anything else I absolutely must try/eat/see here before I go?

Rock the vote, but no votes on the rocks

This is an interesting time to be in Thailand. If you have been reading any news stories about things other than Justin Bieber and the polar vortex, you might have heard something about the protests in Bangkok. They have been going on for a while; I started reading about them well before we left China. But, they are basically confined to Bangkok, and here in Phuket, an especially oblivious foreigner might not know that they were even going on. Especially if one flew directly into Phuket and didn't even have to think about Bangkok along the way.

I've kept up with the news a bit, but of late it seems to have been mostly a low-level agitation. A few people, tragically, have died during the unrest. My understanding is that for the most part, you can avoid the protests. Friends in Bangkok report that they are going about their lives. Now, however, there will be something for us to notice here in Phuket town. Prime Minister Yingluck Shinawatra has called for elections, trying to end the protests. Unfortunately, the protesters, who think the PM's government is hopelessly corrupt, aren't jumping on board the election idea, and are encouraging others to boycott. The elections are going to happen, despite the threat of more disturbances as the elections are protested.

Will there be increased unrest and violence? I can't say. What I can say is that here in Thailand, just like in Mexico when we were there, the bars will be closed on election day. And these elections are going to last for TWO days!  Can you believe it?  This Saturday and Sunday, no happy hour for us! I haven't heard if alcohol sales in stores are also suspended. Good times, reminiscing about our last minute dash into the convenience store Oxxo in Queretaro to buy a 12-pack before the 6 p.m. cut-off; they had already draped coverings over the beer coolers and everything!  But we convinced them that it was only 5:58p.m.  It was a close call, though.

Definitely have to plan ahead for our beer drinking for this weekend here in Thailand!

Just another day in paradise

Would it be weird if I said I like Phuket more than Bali?

It kind of makes me gasp to type it, or even think it, but I'm pretty sure it's true. Now, there are obviously caveats here, chiefly: I've spent much more time in Phuket (four weeks in 2012, and now we're here for another month-long stint, as opposed to a week in Bali) and I've been much more relaxed both times I've been in Phuket (in fact, both times leaving behind Guangzhou to come here, whereas in Bali I had to face the prospect of returning to Guangzhou*). But as I walked down the street in Phuket town today, I definitely had paradisiacal thoughts. It was just another wonderful, sunshiney, palm-tree swaying, glorious day here. In the morning I sangthaewed to Patong, enjoyed Thai iced coffee and a cinnamon scone (from two separate places), went to my second day of Thai class, had a banana pancake with honey for lunch, walked over to gaze at the sea, read some of my book, basked in the sun's rays, swam in the pool, etc. It was a freaking great Wednesday and I highly recommend that if at all possible you also have a Wednesday like this at some point in your life.

All right then. Back to my (creative) work, now. Back to my projects, which my brain has been given free rein to swirl around here in Thailand. Back to catching up on things and plotting the future. A future that includes quiz night at the local bar, more glorious days, and lots of secret plans that I hope come to fruition.

Oh, what's that I hear as evening falls?  The frog and insect chorus begins to swell while the glow of sunset is just starting to be matched by the lights on the clock tower that pokes above the trees in the park next door. You couldn't make this shit up, seriously.

Don't get me wrong:  I liked Bali. I particularly liked Ubud, which was explicitly paradise, but with motos. I will return to Bali if possible, and I want to see more of it. I'm just saying that right here and now.... Phuket is a wonder to behold. Maybe I should get my act together and post some pictures so you can behold it, too.

*for those who haven't been paying attention and still don't get why I throw around cynical comments about Guangzhou, I reiterate the two most terrible things about it:  1.there are regularly children urinating and defecating in the street/sidewalk/gutter, induced and encouraged by their adult guardians to do so  2.Guangdong people eat cats (and dogs), and even a lot of people who don't eat those animals treat them in a spectacularly shitty fashion, such as TYING "pet" cats  on short rope/string/leashes for hours or days or maybe forever, who the fuck knows how long, but it's so horrible to see them tied up all the time, and/or imprisoning them in tiny cages. It's all horrible and unforgivable shit, and until those things are eliminated I'm not sure all the good things from a hundred dynasties could outweigh those giant, sickening demerits the place has earned

For the seafood lover in me

You know what I hate? Food snobbery. I was going to say "food snobs," but then that would be saying that I hate the people, which isn't really true, because I don't actually hate any particular people (except Dubya), rather, I just sometimes hate all people, like, in a disgusted-by-humanity way that occasionally makes me want to go live in anti-social seclusion, but with unfettered access to iced coffee (that I don't have to make) and cheese enchiladas (that I don't have to cook).

Anyway, about food snobbery. True or false: food snobs are the judgiest snobs of all. I say true. Let's examine the evidence.

You have your literary snobs, of which I am often accused of being one. I have previously blog-wrestled with the questions of "what is a literary snob?" and "am I one?" but here I would just like to point out that even literary snobs check out what's on the bestseller list. Then there are music snobs, and I think the arrest of Justin Bieber this week and ensuing commentary clearly demonstrate that even people who aren't music snobs are totally snobby about guilty pleasure musicians, so while it's fun to make fun of hipsters who think they know about cooler indie music than you do, it's also commonly accepted that you'd rather be thought of as "too hip for the room" than "a boy band fan."  (I say this, by the way, as someone who unapologetically sings along with Taylor Swift and the song "Beer With Jesus.") Film snobs? They don't really get all that much press, because so many people have never heard of half the movies they praise that the conversation just kind of fizzles out and then everyone goes back to the theater to see the latest blockbuster. Because popcorn. Also, Quentin Tarantino has basically irrevocably proven that you can like really, truly obscure films and talk about them with a deep, mad passion yet still just be more wacky about it than snobby. As for snob-snobs, you know, like the high-school kind? They turn out to secretly have some good inside, as evidenced by the plot of every sitcom and teen movie ever, and your 20-year high school reunion.

But food snobs are so judgetacularly judgy!

What brought this on?  Well, I'll tell you. Today Brian and I enjoyed seafood at Karon Beach here in Phuket, at a place with today's fresh catch displayed on ice, a fresh catch, I might add, that came from the Andaman Sea, which is across the street. Somehow in that conversation we got to talking about seafood and Red Lobster -- I really don't recall how/why -- and how of late Red Lobster has been criticized on the interwebs because the company is losing money and the food snobs have come out of the woodwork to be all like, "Ewww, their food is bad." To which I say: no.

No, their food isn't "bad."  Here's an example of bad food: it never, ever decomposes, despite Morgan Spurlock waiting around for weeks for it to do so. Here's another example: it makes you gag. Here's another: it has no nutritional value.

But the food snobs, you see, are so afraid that Anthony Bourdain or some other lover of foie gras (a food that may not be bad, but instead is just plain evil) will spot them eating at a Red Lobster, which they have all done, that they have to come out in the comments sections of various food snobbery-inducing pieces and protest too much for all the world to see that they understand how "bad" that food is and won't be caught dead eating it. Even though they have totally eaten it before.

Remember 2010?  One of the cool, indie-ish-but-with-big-name-actors, got-loads-of-critical-acclaim movies in 2010 was The Kids Are All Right. Now, I was thoroughly underwhelmed by that flick, but one part of it will stay in my cherished memory forever, and that is when the character played by Annette Bening (who 100% should have won the Oscar over Black Swan Natalie Portman) is getting fed up with her partner, the really annoying character played by Julianne Moore, and in some restaurant the Bening character reaches the end of her rope at the mention of heirloom tomatoes and says, basically, what the hell is up with all these people suddenly sounding so proud of themselves jabbering about heirloom tomatoes all the bloody time? (I paraphrase.)  I loved that moment. I so relate.

I mean: I like farmers' markets, too (at least in theory -- I don't really like shopping at all), but I also like the grocery store. It's like, why would you waste time ragging on grocery stores when you could be aiming those precious insults at Walmart, which really deserves them? But some people are just so PROUD of themselves for shopping at the farmers' market for heirloom tomatoes, and here's the crucial part:  somehow it's socially acceptable for them to get up on that high horse and actually straight up criticize someone whose food doesn't meet their exacting standards. This is not accepted in other snobberies. When I mention that I haven't read the Harry Potter series and don't really plan to, ever, it launches a debate, guaranteed, not about the merits of Harry Potter but about whether I'm entitled to criticize those books. I have actually lost friends -- well, at least friendly acquaintances -- not even for slamming Stephenie Twilight Meyer but for defending Stephen King's right to slam Stephenie Meyer. Stephen King! A writer for decades who has experienced both the bestseller list and writing about the supernatural, but he's supposed to refrain from criticizing a bestselling supernatural-laden book/series he thinks is shit? Why??!

Ditto for the film and music and snob-snobs. It's acknowledged that they are just not supposed to do that because it's mean/unbecoming/whatever. But the food snobs are allowed to go off whenever they see fit, as if any one meal is responsible for obesity, cancer, and the end of civilization as we know it. And I don't buy the health argument for food snobbery anyway, really, because then why isn't it socially acceptable for those people to walk up to smokers and knock the cigarettes out of their hands? Or better yet, to walk up to people who drive to a place two minutes down the road and say, "Have you ever walked on a single errand in your life?"

The food snobs are, essentially, allowed to be snobs. No, not just allowed; they are downright encouraged. They are the judgiest. Their rampant judging is everywhere. And then, companies who happen to have more than one branch location have to bend over backwards with marketing campaigns to try to remind everyone that their food is not, in fact, bad, but that the food snobs are just zeroing in on them this month for whatever reason. Instead of just fighting about preferences, like New York and Chicago do about pizza, the food snobs are matter-of-fact about the fact that your food choice is not good enough, and no one is bothered by this. Whether it's Red Lobster, or frozen dinners, or Burger King, or bottled salad dressing, or Papa John's, or hot dogs, food snobbery is welcomed with open arms.

But not my arms. I dined on seafood today in Thailand while staring at the sea, and when I return to the Phoenix desert, I will happily go to Red Lobster in broad daylight, with no attempt to hide from the Food Network, and enjoy some fried shrimp there. I do not for the life of me find anything wrong with my dining experience at Red Lobster, and I do not hate chain restaurants just because they are chains (see also: Red Robin, Outback Steakhouse, Chili's, Starbucks, Chipotle, etc. etc.)  I do not get food snobbery, and I do not welcome it. What about you?

Shala (la la la lala lala)A few glorious days in Phuket

We're back!

That is to say, Brian and I have returned to Phuket, Thailand, the scene of our January 2012 post-teaching-in-Korea straight-outta-Guangzhou CELTA-course month long stint for yet another post-teaching-in-Asia straight-outta-Guangzhou (this time having lived there, not just visited) personal improvement month long stint. Because if something works, you should totally do it again two years later; isn't that what they say?

And is Phuket just as we left it?  Are all our favorite restaurants still open? Is the Thai iced coffee as delightsome? Do the birds sing, the pool waters glisten, the smells of curry entice, and the rays of sunshine warm both our faces and our hearts?  No, no, but yes and YES!

We hatched the you-can-go-back-to-Phuket-again plan a few months ago and we have made it happen. I just sat there one day during the Guangzhou rainy season (which lasts about eight months) and thought: when we leave this place, we should totally live in Phuket for a month again. I'm really happy that Brian was on board with this plan, because I pretty much would have done it anyway...but of course he was! Because this place is magical and lovely and perfect and nothing could make it better except maybe if we could have brought Quincy with us...but that's another story.

So far, I have successfully plunged into my swimming/writing/eating/reading/coffee/relaxing/strolling the streets of Old Town regimen, Brian has acquired a bicycle monthly rental for what I believe is properly referred to as his "bike-the-!@#*-out-of-this-island" conquest, and I have even found a pretty nice yoga place. It's down the road a piece, toward Chalong, near the zoo (gross), so it is a bit of an adventure to get there, or rather, to get back after the songthaews have stopped running (hello, bargaining for a moto taxi ride! thanks for the spare helmet!), but it was in such a pleasant location!  Up some wooden steps to an open air shala. What a lovely setting for an hour-and-a-half yoga session, although maybe doing it at dusk is not such a great idea for the mosquito-prone, such as me. Don't feel bad if you don't know what a shala is, because I didn't either, really, before today. You can tell that my ten+ years (I'm so OLD!) of yoga practice have been in gyms and on my own, eh? Because: huh. Shala. What do you know?

I could sit on the terrace gazing at the palm treetops, the clock tower, and the shimmering swimming pool forever, but I must interrupt that a few times a week to go to the beach, of course.

Phuket. Yes, please.

Querétaro with six weeks to go

It's a relaxing Friday evening at home. I've got the baseball game on TV (trying to decide which of the Atlanta Braves' recent playoff nemeses to root against, San Francisco or St. Louis?) and I'm attending to various tasks, both functional and creative, on my to-do list.  I'm also rather enjoying some cookies that I bought at the Mercado Escobedo earlier today. I have time to get a bit of writing and reading done.  All in all, like I said, a relaxing Friday evening at home.

And that's the weird part. We've had so many homes over the past few years, and in so many different countries, to boot! I've always moved a lot (home ownership and settling down are maybe the last two things on my list of life priorities) but I've also enjoyed my recent periods of (what passes for) stability of two to four years in the same place, in Brooklyn and in Boston. (Hmmm, B----n, coincidence? Perhaps I'm destined to settle down in ... Bhutan! Or Bahrain. Maybe Berlin?)

We've had some really great homes during these years of galvanting, Brian and I have. Even our short-term homes, like Baan Suwaan in Phuket, Thailand. (There's that B------n theme again, although in that case it's the name of the hotel/apartments.)  I wanted to stay in Baan Suwaan forever! If we hadn't made post-Phuket plans, like with an already booked plane ticket, we would very likely have kicked it there for a few months. Ahhh, Phuket.

Our main apartment in Andong, Korea was awesome, too. We really dug living in Ok-Dong (Ok-Dong kitties! and the restaurants, my goodness) and if we hadn't been moved to the new and improved digs above the new Avalon school location, we just might have been persuaded to re-up for one more year teaching at Avalon.

And Chicago...sigh. I miss living there a lot. Our apartment was in the Best. Location. Ever! (thanks, Sara and Houston) and I loved it, and I did all sorts of things and I barely scratched the surface of that city in one year. I mean, we are definitely planning to go back, but when I start thinking about Chicago I start getting really depressed, because it reminds me that there is such a big world to live in and I just want to live in all of it. I want to live in the U.S. (in Chicago, and L.A., and New York, and Boston, and sometimes Tucson and Atlanta and D.C. as well) and I want to live outside the U.S. (ZOMG! So many choices!!!)   Why is that so much to ask?

I'm sure you can tell why I'm thinking about these things. Our Mexican time is ticking, and with only six weeks until my Next Big Move, I have definitely started getting that mix of thrill and anxiety that comes with determining just what exactly the Next Big Move is.

Meanwhile, let's review. What are some of the things I have most enjoyed about living in Querétaro 

1. The PLAZAS!  We live right across the street from Querétaro's Centro Historico area, which is thanks to Brian ensuring he got us a great pad in this area, when he was here for two weeks before I came, so kudos to Brian! I love, love, love strolling across the street and wandering around the andadores amid the colored colonial architecture. I love that there is pretty much always an event happening on the Plaza de Armas -- music, art, literature, crafts, concerts, festivals, performances of some sort, all the time. And that doesn't even mention the other plazas I love, like the Jardín Zenea or "our" plaza, the one on our cross street of Ezequiel Montes, with the fountain and light show and dramatic opera-like music.  Yay, plazas!

2. The food - obviously. And I can't even try to summarize it all here, but let's just say I was clearly meant to come to Querétaro because their local specialty, enchiladas queretanas, are cheese enchiladas with potatoes. I mean, this basically screams "Linda! Eat me!"

3. It's the little things, but I sure do like it when people as they leave a restaurant/cafe say "Buen provecho!" to the other patrons who are still eating. Brian and I are pretty proud of ourselves every time we provecho our fellow diners on our way out. 

4. I could keep talking about food and restaurants for a long time, so let me just give a few shout-outs: Tacos Tucson. Our dearly departed guajolotes/enchiladas queretanas place that seems to have recently closed. Bisquets. Cafe del Fondo. Tacos El Pata. Cafeto. Tacos Goyo. Other street tacos places and holes in the wall and little random discoveries. ChilaKing (do I have that right? our local chilaquiles spot). THE BLUE MASA GORDITAS PLACE!!!! Yes, I am shouting. None of you have really lived, because you haven't been to the blue masa gorditas place. 

5. The Arcos. That's what we call Querétaro's aqueduct, because of its many 20-meter high brick arches. It's awesome. It's a symbol of the city. I see it all the time. I dig it. 

That's just a taste. I have not been a prolific blogger from Querétaro, for reasons that I shall elaborate upon once I'm out of here, but just so you know: if you're on the fence about coming to Querétaro, I do recommend it. Bring an appetite. 

Phuket is not a vulgar city! Day 61 of our Southeast Asia Odyssey

OK, let's be clear about one thing. You pronounce Phuket like this:  pooh-KETT.  It's funny (to me) that it hadn't even occurred to me that people unfamiliar with it initially read it as f**k it. Ha ha and all, but the first time someone posted a wisecrack about pronouncing it that way, it took me a while to figure out what they were saying. I guess I've just thought of it as (winnie-the-)pooh-KETT or the somewhat mispronounced foo-KETT for as long as I've known of its existence.

Anyway, here's what I think about Phuket, which everyone is now saying correctly in their heads as they read this, right? I think Phuket is awesome. I rather enjoy living in Phuket town, and I am sad that our CELTA course and therefore our time here are coming to an end.

Brian and I chose Phuket as the place to get our CELTA teaching qualification because we had our eyes on Thailand for cheap living and beach proximity during the four-week course. It has worked out great. Because there are two of us splitting the rent, we were able to snag a pretty nice accommodation (no SE Asia backpacker flophouse for us) with a lovely pool and a cute room with a balcony. I highly recommend Baan Suwantawe's monthly room rental to anyone coming to Phuket town.

Also, there is absolutely no shortage of restaurants in this little city. Within walking distance we have oodles of noodles, roti, dim sum, curries, fried chicken, rice, pad thai, tom yum (sp?) and Phuket specialties and pork and appetizers and soups and that's not even mentioning the coffee shops and plentiful Western food, this being a travelers' destination and all. We eat out cheaply and deliciously for all our meals (even though we do have a refrigerator and microwave in the Baan Suwantawe room) and we spend like $2-5 per meal. It's so great to be in southeast Asia.

Unfortunately, despite how great it is to be in Southeast Asia, we are in fact almost done with our time in Phuket. We will not stay in this city teaching right at the moment, although I could possible end up back here in the future. We are looking at a few job opportunities and think a different country is on the horizon. (Well, obviously, there are many countries on the horizon, if you want to look at it literally, but you know what I mean.)

Meanwhile, we have one more weekend to enjoy the beaches of Phuket. We spend Monday-Friday in Phuket town, and on Saturdays and Sundays we head to the water. We have enjoyed the beaches of Patong, Karon, Kata, Nai Harn, and glimpses of Rawai, plus a boat trip to Ao Phang Nga and "James Bond Island."  We have looked up at the Big Buddha on the mountaintop and looked out at the sunset from Phromthep Cape. All in all, I give Phuket two thumbs up, and there is nothing whatsoever f**k-it about the place! Well, except for the occasional cockroach that stampedes across the sidewalk at night, coming awfully close to my flip-flop bared feet. But at least there are a few lizards scurrying around to make up for it.

Si-a-me-ese, if you ple-ease

Tonight we went to dinner at another fabulous (and fabulously affordable!) little Thai restaurant, and we saw a Siamese cat.

Get it? A Siamese cat. We're in Thailand...which used to be... Get it?

It's so wonderful. I really don't know how Bangkok can ever top that, so we're off to Phuket tomorrow.

Things Suzanne Sugarbaker Might Say Day 34 of our Southeast Asia Odyssey

So, there's a wonderful moment in the Designing Women episode in which Julia and Suzanne travel to Japan for a brief, specific task, which, if you know anything about the awesomeness that was Designing Women, you may remember and you can definitely appreciate. (If you don't know anything about the awesomeness that was Designing Women, hie thee to Netflix to remedy that, won't you?)

On the plane, the ever intelligent and earnestly sophisticated Julia says that in their brief time there she hopes that they get to see "the real Japan."

"Oh, I don't," Suzanne replies. Naturally, the crowd laughs because it's a typically unexpected-and-yet-expected-from-Suzanne response.  She goes on to explain, "I've noticed that whenever people talk about seeing 'the real' anything, what they really mean is 'hanging around with poor people.' I figure, I don't hang around with poor people at home, so why should I do so on vacation?"

I was thinking about Suzanne as we galavanted about the malls of Sukhumvit in Bangkok.  Now, I will say that we saw some interesting sites, like the greatest food court in the world (no, really! this incredible place with every possible kind of ethnic cuisine) and lots of shiny atrium space and gleaming glass and marble floors and so on and so on, with walkways and plazas and what have you. And, we eventually made our way to a fantastic bookstore full of a gazillion English language books where Brian and I spent several pleasant hours reading and browsing and he found an insanely great book about Thai hawkers' street food.  HOWEVER, it was just funny, for me, the loather of shopping and in particular shopping malls, that Bangkok's malls were not only the theme of our day but really its whole point and purpose.

As we were strolling from one glorious shopping paradise to another, I was thinking about how many places I've been in the world where I've inevitably been taken shopping. I particularly thought about the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul, which everyone was so hopped up about -- the bazaar! the GRAND bazaar! grandest in the world! -- which was quite uninteresting because when I finally caved and checked it out it turned out to be, frankly, a mall.  I chuckled to myself today because in my head I sounded like Suzanne Sugarbaker, only my quick is distinctly un-Suzanne-like, because she adores shopping, but I could hear myself saying, "I've noticed that whenever people talk about seeing the 'central marketplace' anywhere, what they really mean is, let's go to the shopping mall. I figure, I don't go shopping at home, so why should I do so on vacation?"

"I can feel the devil walking next to me..." Day 33 of our Southeast Asia Odyssey

Coming to you from Bangkok now...this is one of those epic cities, with one of those epically associated songs, i.e., the one from which I took the title of this post, that gets stuck in your head the entire time you are here. What's a person of my generation to do? You spend years of your life listening to the song on "Flashback Friday" lunch hours and the odd dance floor, and then here you finally are - of course "One Night in Bangkok" is going to be stuck in your head the entire time. You only wish that you could actually get a verse, or a bridge, or even the rest of the chorus stuck in there. Something besides "One night in Bangkok and the world's your oyster...da duh duh da duh-duh..." and so on. Because, news flash: that "night in Bangkok" is actually depressing. Ain't no pearls in the nasty nightlife scene, and precious few oysters. But I will get to that in a second.

First, I must report that earlier today when I posted as my Facebook status that my generation is cursed to have that song play in our heads when we finally travel here (high five to those of you who quickly felt my pain with your Likes and Comments), Brian's response was not appreciation for my wit or sympathy for my predicament - oh no! His response: "It's not my generation."  My god. What a difference a few little years make. He is so not of the 80s in the way that I am. HOWEVER, I maintain that it has less to do with the actual age/few years than the fact that I have an older sister, but he has a younger brother. So on top of the few years, I skew older in things like music (having been influenced by, say, my sister's Whitney Houston-Wham!-Cyndi Lauper-cassette-buying ways) and Brian skews younger (90s rap, mostly).

We also have this conversation all the time when I reference The Brady Bunch  - because, yes, I do that all the time, as there is an appropriate Brady Bunch quote/anecdote for every life situation - and Brian reminds me that he and his brother did not grow up watching Brady Bunch reruns, to which the only sane reply is, naturally, their loss! - right? Somehow Brian doesn't quite understand how very much he is missing there. But he is in turn surprised that I didn't watch Saved by the Bell. Which, no. Not even the same league, OK.

ANYWAY. Back to Bangkok. Yes, I think the devil is walking here, and just down the street from where we're staying, in fact. OK, kidding! There is no devil, just the unfettered depravity of my fellow man. Wait, you ask, am I calling the old men who retire/visit/"tour" here,spending their nights purchasing bar girls and/or bar ladyboys, evil? Why, perhaps I am! Is that judgmental of me? Why yes, I do believe it is.  Soooo OK with being judgmental of these men. Soooo all kinds of OK with that.  I was actually horrified by what I saw last night in Nana Plaza and Soi Cowboy.  And of course, it's not really the blatant or weird things that horrify you - it's the little things, like when you sit talking with your friends enjoying your beer, supposedly on this ironic "exploration" of the seedy randomness of Bangkok's red light district, and in your line of sight are the five or six young Thai women of the bar across the way, doing their thing, namely, waiting for foreigners with money to walk in, and then soon enough one does walk in, say, a 50- or 60-something man, white polo shirt, shorts, casual, and then he's taking her hand and smiling and they sit at a table, and ewwww! ewww! eww! the same things is happening thousands and thousands of times to all these young women and behind the curtains of these bars' doorways the "shows" are going on and the girls/ladyboys are wearing numbers so they can be picked out and requested like cattle or slaves in an auction...it's quite horrible. I wanted to be dutifully amused by the seedy part of the Bangkok scene, as one who grew up listening to "One Night in Bangkok" is supposed to be, but instead it really made me hate humanity. I mean, you know, more than usual.

The whole situation reminded me of something that happened in the 90s, back when I used to still hang around Mormons (instead of watching Saved by the Bell). So, when Schindler's List came out it got a lot of buzz, and then a lot praise, and then a lot of Oscar nominations, and so, you know, people wanted to see it. Even Mormons. Slight problem: Mormons aren't really "allowed" to watch R-rated movies. I mean, some don't really care, but some prophet or other said not to and it's a rule that a fair amount of them stick to, ESPECIALLY at BYU, which is where most of the ones I hung around at that time were. Specifically, this one fabulous English professor at BYU, Cecilia Konchar-Farr, who was questionably fired/not given tenure. Her last semester teaching there happened to be early 1994, as Schindler's List  was marching toward its victorious Oscar night, and many a curious BYU student really wanted to see it - heard it was so good - but it's rated R. So, then, the discussion always turns to why the movie is rated R. Like, is it full of the f-word? Violence? Naked people? Nudity is really a no-go for lots of these rule-abiding Mormons. (Have I mentioned that BYU's on-campus theater edits the R-rated movies before they are shown there for students?)  So Cecilia reports that yes, she did see Schindler's List over the weekend, and yes, it was great and fantastic and moving and meaningful and important and all that. Then, she says, in a moment filled with the logic and clarity that escape so many religious people so much of the time, that all this fuss about "Is there nudity? Is there a sex scene?" in it really seems to miss the point.  "It's the Holocaust," she says. "It is the murder of hundreds and thousands and millions of innocent people. Of COURSE it's a mature theme. Of COURSE it's rated R. But you're not worried about the savage, systematic persecution and murder of millions of people, you're worried about seeing someone naked?"

I mean, she makes a really good point, yes?

That's how I felt last night. Because, no lie, I got really kind of pissed off at one point and I kind of yelled at my drinking companions. I wanted to discuss endlessly just what motivates men to come to Bangkok and be horrible and depraved and purchase other humans, and at some point they got tired of my fascination with this subject that I could analyze and scrutinize for hours, and I was yelling and weeping and wailing and gnashing teeth (well, 2 or 3 of those anyway) and I looked like the jerk. Which, probably I was a jerk, because I was frustrated and furious and appalled and also just plain sad. I mean, I literally would just get tears in my beer when I stared across the road too long at the scene playing out in front of us. And nobody likes it when their drinking companion starts wailing and draws the other happy drinkers' attention. But part of me wanted to shout, "What's wrong with all of you [tourists/backpackers/business travelers/police/guidebooks]?! You're missing the point! Of COURSE I'm upset and volatile and crying and screaming and angry in a public place and embarrassing my friends. Why aren't all of YOU? You're not worried about thousands of young women who face such a dearth of life choices that this is their better/only career option, and you're not offended by the desperation emanating from these despicable men who buy the women, but it bothers you if I cry and rant about it in a bar, because that is unsophisticated and unbecoming and uncool?"

Yeah. Bangkok.

But I am actually really enjoying Thailand! Tomorrow I will blog about happier things!

"Not much between despair and ecstasy..."
- good ol' Murray Head and the ABBA guy and Tim Rice, who wrote the song

Caught between a monk and a motorcycle Day 32 of our Southeast Asia Odyssey

In Thailand, we women are not supposed to touch the monks. I mean, it's not that we go around touching monks in other countries, but here it's expressly stated a few places that women are totally not supposed to touch the monks, nor stand near enough to accidentally touch them, nor sit in the seats reserved for them on the bus/subway because that would apparently be kind of like touching them when they sit there later, I guess. Anyway, I've been keeping my distance from the orange-robe-clad guys, but I must say there is one thing in Thailand I would like to touch even less, and that is the burning hot tailpipe on the right side of every moto, the moto being the ubiquitous form of transport in Southeast Asia.

So, when one is walking down a crowded Bangkok street and one is moving to the right to avoid the oncoming monk but then one sees on one's right an oncoming moto, one has a decision to make, and this woman will totally veer into the monk, if that's what it takes to avoid sizzling leg flesh.