tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-40792672201773523812023-11-16T01:59:53.120+07:00Ramblings of a Madman on a WalkaboutDavid tzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15493308363481432060noreply@blogger.comBlogger319125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4079267220177352381.post-2900947926757819322015-05-11T23:38:00.000+07:002015-05-11T23:38:34.836+07:00Volume 43, chapter 94: Monday bluesI don't hate Mondays, but the beginning of a long week at work is nothing to look forward to. Mostly my long days at work this week consist of sitting alone in an empty office while the other teachers attend a 3 day workshop of changing teaching styles and focus. I would actually like to attend, but since it's entirely in Thai, I don't understand a word. Instead I download tv shows to watch at night and finish up my lesson plans for the coming semester. I also need to make up some attendance sheets and a student info database form. They may not be able to find much public stuff from me online, Despite the public nature of this blog, my day-to-day Facebook page is locked down pretty tight to people I actually know, but I'll be sure to get all the necessary info from them to track their online moments. It makes it easier to teach if I know a little bit of the way these kids live. I can make lessons they relate to.<br />
<br />
So, anyway. I did nothing today for 8 hours. I started and finished a book I was required to read for this Administration shake-up. It took me a little over an hour to read. It had lots of pictures and read like a middle school book. It was called <i>Our Iceberg is Melting</i>, or some bullshit like that. It was basically the same book as <i>Who Moved My Cheese</i> and even included a forward by the same author. It was simplistic and about as exiting to read as watching water boil. I get what they are trying to do and I admire their efforts at recognizing there is a problem with the education and trying to fix up, but I've seen this happen before hundreds of times in Korea and it is ultimately doomed to fail due to culture indoctrination. These kids have been forced to conform to a certain ideal, sometimes through liberal use of capital punishment despite it being illegal, and now they want us to embrace their individualism and uniqueness, under an oppressive military dictatorship. They want us to teach these students to question everything, when doing that can land you in prison. No freedom of speech here. The kids are clueless on how to respond to such freedoms-- they can't give an opinion unless it's been previously approved beforehand by their peers, and it's like pulling teeth without anesthesia for the teachers. I feel very sorry for the other Filipino teachers that have to sit through that bullshit just because they happen to understand Thai. I feel sorry for the Thai teachers because they will also have to adapt as much as the students and I'm not sure they are capable. I'm use to this style of teaching, so I have no problem with it, but it so different than rote teaching which puts the teacher in the position of an infallible taskmaster. The Critical Thinking model of teaching puts the teacher in the roll as a fallible guide/mentor.<br /><br />The rest of the day, I set up some business meetings for the weekend, and argued online with some nationalistic Ko-Am troll in S. Korea for shits and giggles. When I got bored of that, I watched <i>Game of Thrones. </i>It was alright, but it just doesn't hold the same anticipated thrill it did for the first 2 seasons. One of the few book series I have not actually read. I bore easily of long-winded writers. I don't like Stephan King much either. I prefer my books and prose quick and snappy.David tzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15493308363481432060noreply@blogger.com0Bangkok, Thailand13.7563309 100.5017651000000613.2627269 99.856318100000053 14.2499349 101.14721210000006tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4079267220177352381.post-83694719334606043272015-05-11T00:37:00.000+07:002015-05-11T11:58:22.610+07:00Volume 43, Chapter 93: The Mother's day edtion.I missed a day. It's hard to write every day. I actually have to sit down and make a concentrated effort to do this. It's easy in jail-- what else am I going to do? In the real world? Not so easy.<br />
<br />
Where to begin. I have a lot on my mind lately. Particularly, Margriet. I don't normally name people on this blog for their sake, animosity and paranoia, but this girl deserves to be heralded, and remembered. She is Zoe's mother. She hates me. Lots of people hate me, I can be a bit of a jerk sometimes, but this girl REALLY hates me. I get it. And she is forever tied to me because of Zoe. I love her. I wish I could tell her that... she can't, nor is she even physically capable of doing that right now. Doctors give her a week, I think she'll last to least June, if I was a betting man. I have to have hopes and dreams, or WTF is the point?<br />
<br />
Back to present events.<br />
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We finally left my house at noon, and went to MBK. I have no idea what MBK means, and I don't care-- it's a gadget geek's dream. In Korea, go to Yongsan. We ate Vietnam food in a Thailand restaurant. Ethnic food is different in every country. Chinese food in Korean is not the same as Chinese food in China, or Chinese food in the US, or Korea. For one thing, in China, it's just called "food," Not "Chinese food."<br />
Then I played video games in an arcade (!) and butchered thousands of nameless digital targets in preparation for the upcoming zombie Apocalypse. It was awesome.<br />
<br />
She went to work on the subway. I walked home from there. It's a very long walk. My main goal was to find some comfortable shoes for less than $6 (200 baht). I'm picky, I didn't find anything I liked. However I did find this.<br />
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<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xT3YyFuTLH0/VU-NqOQdzkI/AAAAAAAADJ8/e6GI4t_esVs/s1600/New-10000mAh-Solar-Charger-Power-Bank-at-Low-Price-MPS10000-.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-xT3YyFuTLH0/VU-NqOQdzkI/AAAAAAAADJ8/e6GI4t_esVs/s1600/New-10000mAh-Solar-Charger-Power-Bank-at-Low-Price-MPS10000-.jpg" /></a> This is a high capacity battery that charges itself with sunlight. A no-brainer, if you ask me.The model I have has a 30,000 m capacity (which means it's a very big battery), and it can recharge your phone up to 6 times, before you need to plug it in. Only, you never have to plug it in.The real beauty of this, is it's not limited to mobile phones. ANYTHING with a USB port can be charged. It's a very cheap portable solar panel. I could hook this up to batteries in my house and always have a power source, This cost me $20. I'm not sure how much they cost in Canada, but $20 seems like a very small price to pay for what I gain for free.</div>
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After, that, I found a new lock for my door. I broke the last one.</div>
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The first thing I do when I move into a new place is figure a way to either break into it, or break out of it. In this instance, I found out how to break in, but it's cost me. I repaired the door myself, I'm a pretty handy guy, but apparently not handy enough. I didn't know there were different doorknobs for different doors. Now, although the smashed door looks original (I'm a good forger), it's all backwards. If I want to break in now, all I need is a screwdriver.I feel like such a... well, for lack of a better word, a doorknob. Looks great though. </div>
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The next day, I went to an art event. An all day affair in a walled off garden with swans and shit. Very zen. Live painting, hippy girls wailing their angst on a guitar, hipster dudes trying to out angst the hippy girls... I mostly watched the painters paint. Live paint=Pollock. 5 or 6 people, throwing paint on a canvas. I was literally watching paint dry. And it was exciting. To a point. I learned some things I may try in my next painting, but I am still not a big fan of abstract art. It's lazy and boring. A fucking monkey could do it and it would be more thought provoking.</div>
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Despite that, it was good to do something different. I went back to her work and hung out for a bit and then went home to writing this for no reason at all but to simply record it.</div>
David tzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15493308363481432060noreply@blogger.com0Bangkok, Thailand13.7563309 100.5017651000000613.2627269 99.856318100000053 14.2499349 101.14721210000006tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4079267220177352381.post-91453320971539697232015-05-09T10:37:00.001+07:002015-05-09T10:37:37.923+07:00Volume 43, Chapter 91.Not much happened yesterday. There was a seminar in the afternoon for the foreign teachers that I could actually attend and understand the language spoken. It's also much easier to understand a foreign language if you are actually using it in conversation rather than listen to some one drone on in lecture... I should try to remember that. I am definitely guilty of droning on and on myself.<br />
<br />
Anyway, it was basically a 2.5 hour bitchfest about everything we felt was wrong with the school, how it was managed, how classes were taught, how students disciplined or precisely lack of discipline due to ineffective punishments and/or incentives to succeed, and other such nonsense. Hopefully something positive will result from it. I tried, actually we all tried to explain that a big part was the culture itself was working against the goals and mandate the administration wanted and demanded. In addition, there was also a lack of incentive or reward from administration giving the teachers an additional workload and making illogical demands to complete said workload. One of the main things the other teachers, who understood Thai and therefore had been listening to 2 days of this new propaganda from the administration, was complaining about is in the 5 hours of the day we are not teaching, we use it to mark papers and prepare lesson plans, as well as mentoring students throughout the day. However, all lesson plans, exams and paperwork basically, and there is a lot, has to be done at home on our own time. We are not allowed to do it during school hours when we are actually working. That's the only time I do it. I never work on school paperwork except at school, or if I have a deadline. Since it was during the 2 day Thai seminar, I know nothing about it. And one bothered to translate it for me. That's my story, I'm sticking with it<br />
<br />
Apparently there is also a mythical students guidebook that has the responsibilities of the student and punishments for failure to comply. However, none of the teachers have ever seen it. It is only distributed to students. The teachers and, most importantly, the parents have ever read it. And of course, it's only in Thai. It has been suggested that it be translated into English & Chinese, and given to both teachers and parents so everybody fucking knows what happens if the students don't do their homework and fail as a result. Stop blaming the teachers for your kid's failure and start disciplining your own god-dawned spawn of Satan. It's not my responsibility to make sure your precious snowflake does their homework. It's the parents and the students and they are always so surprised to learn that their kids fail because they never do their homework and therefore never learn their lessons because they definitely aren't paying attention to it in class.<br />
<br />
After that I went home and slept for 3 or 4 hours and went to meet my friend for a late night dinner. Some movies and a bet to see if she can get up at 8 am. $100 if she can get up and stay up at 8 am. Each hour she sleeps in, she looses 1/3 of the money. I'll probably be up at 7. I sabotaged her alarm so it's not going to wake her. She probably sleep until noon and I'll save myself $100. If she does manage to get up early, my whole day will finally not go to waste watching her sleep waiting for her to wake up so we can go outside and actually do something other than eat, drink and... well, you can fill in the blanks. I'll keep it PC13 for now. Point is, it's my weekend, I want to go out and do shit, not sit around all day watching some chick sleep. And then she has to go to work, so I have to amuse myself for several hours anyway. It's a good way to feel alone with actually being alone. It sucks and is pointless, so it better change soon, or I'm moving on. I don't really have time for it. <br /><br />She eventually woke up at 9 and went to the salon to beautify herself while I did laundry. So, I owe her $50 which she will probably spend on me anyway (after she pays for the beauty treatments which cost nothing in Bangkok).David tzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15493308363481432060noreply@blogger.com0Bangkok, Thailand13.7563309 100.5017651000000613.2627269 99.856318100000053 14.2499349 101.14721210000006tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4079267220177352381.post-62900656705147288222015-05-08T08:58:00.002+07:002015-05-08T23:11:02.187+07:00Volume 43, Chapter 90: the daily chai, and Nepal edition<h2>
Hello world</h2>
As I mentioned <a href="http://dtz247.blogspot.com/2015/05/vol-43-chapter-69.html">previously</a>, It's been awhile since I've done this. I'm a terrible procrastinator so I will see how long I can keep this up, but one of the things that inspired me was my <a href="http://chatterbetweennaps.blogspot.com/">sister</a>. She hit a rough patch in her own life and followed up by writing her heart on her sleeve. I read it daily. It's good.<br />
<br />
I, too seem to have hit a rough patch. Maybe not so much as a patch as a very long gravel road. I also get repeated requests to maintain this blog. In an effort to both fulfill the needs of my psyche and you, my audience, I will attempt both. To address the "what should I write about?" question, I will try to keep simple. This is, and always has been a diary, that I happen to publish publicly. This will be a little different from the <a href="http://dtz247.blogspot.com/p/start-here.html">Hwaseong Saga</a> since this will be much more immediate, as opposed to something I transcribe months after the fact. A little more raw.<br />
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Another thing that happened very recently was outside the bubble of my world, but affected it nonetheless. The country of Nepal suffered the most devastating earthquake in 70 years. You may have heard about it. Mt. Everest actually shrunk. It's not so high anymore. Lots of people died.<br />
<br />
My friend was in Nepal when it happened. She runs an NGO that helps women and children with PTSD due to abuse and poor living conditions. Her brainchild travels to remote villages with simple art supplies and organizes classes to use art as therapy to help them deal. It's had a very good success rate thus far. Anyway, she was on a bus on the side of a mountain when the first shock hit. She described large rocks falling on her bus and the intern/Jewish princesses that had accompanied on this crazy, non-gluten-free trip far from any hipster bars in Brooklyn, shrilling "what should we do?" Her response was "Do you believe in a god? Then start praying..."<br />
<br />
Her bus eventually made it to what was left of Kathmandu and to "Camp America" at the US embassy. "Lollapalooza" was how it was described. In the middle of this chaos, they had a tent city with daily yoga classes and a buffet of food and medicine. Amongst the destruction outside the wire, American, Canadian, and other European and British Commonwealth nations lived in relative comfort. God forbid they be denied hot water and a shower.<br />
<br />
She couldn't take the hypocrisy of it and had to escape, but not too far or the guilt of abandoning the country she had just come to help would be too much. A place close by where she could recuperate and easily return to Nepal to help with the relief efforts. So she came here to Bangkok. I must insert here that I have never met this person face to face. In this age of information, I have interacted with hundreds, if not thousands of people all over the world without ever meeting, as we all have, and this girl is one of those people. So, I met her at the airport, got her settled in a hotel, and proceeded to get as drunk as we could for the next 5 days. While she was here, we hooked her up with some local people, got some donations to take back to Nepal and off she went. She will return to the US in a couple days, and then off to Ghana, Africa to do the same NGO program there. Kids, these days-- just too much ambition.<br />
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When you travel, you meet lots of people from all over the world and some of them really do try to change the world. Kudos to them, I talk a lot, but that's all I really do. I've added a few links at the end to pages on Facebook of some groups I know where your money really does go to doing some good in the world. Donate if you can.<br />
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<h3>
The main point.</h3>
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I'm just trying to describe my day. I had to catch up to it I guess.<br />
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Today was rather uneventful. I woke up and went to the second day of my new semester. After sitting in a seminar for a couple of hours, conducted in a foreign language, I escaped the first chance I got, went back to the office, and promptly took a nap on my desk. Then I woke up, wiped the slobber of my chin, and downloaded a few daily TV shows I watch. Today was Arrow, and Modern Family. I watched them, went home after work, took another nap, and went to Patpong, the local red light district. I visited a friend at his restaurant, said "hello" to my girlfriend, grabbed some street food consisting rice and green chicken curry, and went to the bar, where I had about far too many glasses of beer while I watched girls in bikinis. Eventually, my girlfriend finished work, picked me up and dragged me to another bar where we enjoyed a few more glasses of beer before we went home and did things the government has no business knowing about. Now I'm back at work, alone in an office while everybody else is forced to go to a seminar, basically because they speak Thai and I don't, writing the first real entry in a long time, of what I hope will be many more and there is a hot Thai girl sleeping in my bed. My head hurts.<br />
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Two groups that actually make a make a difference<br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/internationalsamdong">https://www.facebook.com/internationalsamdong</a><br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/GlobalArtsTherapy">https://www.facebook.com/GlobalArtsTherapy</a><br />
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and some events in Seoul<br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/1636165106598986/">https://www.facebook.com/events/1636165106598986/</a><br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/365364960335751/">https://www.facebook.com/events/365364960335751/</a><br />
<a href="https://www.facebook.com/events/349621478572260/">https://www.facebook.com/events/349621478572260/</a><br />
<br />
Maybe tomorrow's story will be much more interesting...David tzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15493308363481432060noreply@blogger.com0Bang Rak, Bangkok, Thailand13.730833 100.5241670000000313.699983000000001 100.48382650000003 13.761683 100.56450750000003tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4079267220177352381.post-14755878749893526162015-05-08T03:21:00.002+07:002015-05-08T23:11:22.024+07:00Vol 43, Chapter 89I have a lot on my mind. I have many things bothering me. Politics, religion.. it runs the whole gamet(sp?), but I'm not going to blow my load here and now. I'll spread it out and tell you how I really feel over time. Like a good tv series. There are some <a href="https://youtu.be/cp069Y_P-9M">spoilers </a>to be revealed, so catch up.<br />
<br />
this is going to take some time to get back into the swing of things. In the meantime, read this: http://chatterbetweennaps.blogspot.com/<br />
She's not bad.David tzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15493308363481432060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4079267220177352381.post-61764328357402441172015-04-09T09:30:00.000+07:002015-04-09T09:30:11.707+07:00what to do...?I find myself at a loss. I'm not sure what I should do with myself today. Normally, I would wake up, make some coffee, have a cigarette, and spend the next several hours going through Facebook, responding to correspondence and all the posts I agree/disagree with. I've made and drunk the coffee, had several cigarettes, looked at my email (nothing but junk), and the few other blogs I usually read, and now I'm done. What do I do next? I might actually have to do something productive... what a concept. A constructive day, instead of pissing it all away on Facebook. <br /><br />It really is like a drug addiction, and I should know enough about that particular monkey on my back to recognize it for what it is. I can at least suppress some of it by looking at Twitter...David tzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15493308363481432060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4079267220177352381.post-80623318137964209332015-04-08T18:46:00.000+07:002015-04-08T18:46:35.840+07:00Real names<span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.00784314); color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">Facebook has decided without any consultation or even any documentation or proof, that the name I have been using for the last 25 years is not “real.” The same name that is on my resume, my business cards, all my artwork, my email, every social media account I've ever signed up for, is no longer valid on Facebook. I can no longer access or log into Facebook with using my “real” name, so I quit. I lost hundreds of business contacts, all my fan pages and portfolio in the process, but if people can’t find me because Facebook has decided my name is not real, what’s the point anyway?</span><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.00784314); box-sizing: border-box; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; outline: none 0px;" /><br style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(0, 0, 0, 0); background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.00784314); box-sizing: border-box; color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; outline: none 0px;" /><span style="background-color: rgba(255, 255, 255, 0.00784314); color: #444444; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', HelveticaNeue, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px;">I wonder what the weather is like outside?</span>David tzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15493308363481432060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4079267220177352381.post-66235667367717941022014-10-31T23:43:00.006+07:002014-10-31T23:43:54.369+07:00Just for funI know it's been awhile since I posted anything (sorry about that-- life gets in the way sometimes and Facebook is a time vortex that sucks you in), but I was surfing around the other day and came across <a href="http://boards.theforce.net/threads/lol-animated-gifs-here.50003258/" style="text-align: start;" target="_blank">this forum</a> of nothing but funny GIFs. For the most part, these GIFs were just typical memes-- funny, but nothing special. However, I found I few that I thought were artistically mindblowing. No other medium in the world lends itself to this particular kind of artwork, and because Facebook won't let me post GIFs (then it would end up being My FaceSpace), I thought I would post them here. So without further adieu...<br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-j0GfLHaw9Jc/VFO0fksDQfI/AAAAAAAAC-w/D5SWzjlx954/s1600/1236681924-snail-transformers.gif" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">this is just funny</td></tr>
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</td> </tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4s67rCwCB-Y/VFO0SJ7e5pI/AAAAAAAAC-o/YYjR3vCzrIk/s1600/1280079216937.gif" height="320" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">watching water is always calming</td></tr>
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</td> </tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-twTjft5Uriw/VFO0JmEcAhI/AAAAAAAAC-Y/fv0YiNYbz54/s1600/1280079109986.gif" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">don't do drugs</td></tr>
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</td> </tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-KYBDgC60QB8/VFO0Oa9KwZI/AAAAAAAAC-g/oefIY0Yy3sk/s1600/1280079271411.gif" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">drugs are bad</td></tr>
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</td> </tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OfKmY3WxWFg/VFO0o9x-5OI/AAAAAAAAC_I/1angtsT-5lk/s1600/spiral.gif" height="320" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">hypnotizing</td></tr>
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</td> </tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZuvcB8BBI88/VFO0kDdNsLI/AAAAAAAAC_A/t2czWymsv3o/s1600/Ta6Jl.gif" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I am fascinated by clockworks. This is not a clock, but it is facinating</td></tr>
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</td> </tr>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-d0n4YjIqQaA/VFO0wSqYwxI/AAAAAAAAC_Y/v0dB_4OdGG8/s1600/tumblr_mjl5idKPyH1s66bjmo1_500.gif" height="320" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="320" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">3D Moebius strip</td></tr>
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David tzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15493308363481432060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4079267220177352381.post-20852009470589282092014-01-15T00:11:00.000+07:002014-01-15T00:27:41.479+07:00One night in Bangkok... a few months later...Where to begin? That's always an issue when you ignore something so long. I wrote like mad for months and turned my back on it. Not so much turned my back, but got too caught up in living to write about life. It's probably best to just go back to the beginning, when I first arrived in Bangkok.<br />
<br />
After a 24 hour flight, I was pretty tired, but rushing from the adrenaline of finally being in Bangkok. After 2 years of getting divorced, spiraling down to the gutter, detoxing in a Korean jail, I was in the city I originally planned to go to. I got in the cab with no idea of where I would be next other than the apartment of my friend, V (more on him later). I knew V for years. He brought me books in jail. He got me high in Korea, I returned the favour many times. He was/is my best friend in Asia (again, more on this later). I finally got to his apartment and the little bastard wasn't there. I called him-- This customer is not available. I left all my bags in front of his door and went on a hunt for beer. Being Asia, it didn't take long-- I only had to look outside of the gates to his apartment to the nearest store. I started smoking again as soon as I found out cigarettes were less than $1. 2 large bottles (630 ml) of beer were about $4. For $5, I was content for now.<br />
<br />
A few hours later, he finally called me. He was couple blocks away at some teacher get-together. No problem, I had a bit of a buzz going on and some smokes. He came back to get me and smoked me up. Off to good, if somewhat shaky start.<br />
<br />
I stayed with V for about a week. He got me a job less than 2 days later. A new phone (unlocked Rogers for about $20, new sim/number, 3G, etc...) something called an Aircard which was a USB drive with a SIM card that let me use my laptop online on the bus for about $20... it was going good.<br />
<br />
However... my new job was actually in a suburb of Bangkok...not really Bangkok, but close enough to be considered a part of Bangkok. The point being, it was far. At least a 1 hour commute by TAXI from where V lived. I had to fix that so I found the cheapest hostel I could on the internet in Bangkok, close to a subway (skytrain) station. My commute was only an hour by the much cheaper BTS skytrain system, but I encountered a whole new set of problems.<br />
<br />
The hostel was located in an area of town commonly referred to as "Patpong." My previous posts will give you a taste. There is no need for me to regurgitate it here. I stayed there for 4 months. although it was cheap on paper, it cost me far more in life. Let's face it, I'm a sucker for life. Given the opportunity, I will take advantage of everything thrown in front of me. Ping Pong shows? Just the tip of the iceberg. I partied. I drank hard and fast. I'm lucky I'm not in a Thailand jail. I came pretty fucking close a few times. The entire time I was still waiting to get paid from my "legit" job so, I hustled and borrowed and juggled money like a clown at a circus of freaks, with me in the lead role. I did alright, and looking back now, I didn't do too bad. I didn't burn too many bridges with people I didn't know anyway, and the people did I meet, are solid people. Salt of the Earth and all that. I'm fortunate that I seem to meet to most awesome, solid people that I remain friends with despite my drunken failings. I am truly blessed in that regard.<br />
<br />
And then I moved. I had to. Not because some one was out to get me, or I owed money or the cops were on my trail... but for sanity. Patpong is too much of a draw. Girls, booze, drugs, & sex at every turn, and I was living in the middle of it. I was also spending 3 hours a day on a train back and forth. The whole lifestyle was a drain on money I didn't have. Rent was only $100 a month, transport, about $60, food maybe another $10 PER WEEK. Booze and cigarettes and women? Now, we're getting into hundreds and thousands of US dollars. It had to stop, I moved. It didn't stop.<br />
<br />
Mind you, it's only been 1 month, and I'm a lecherous, misogynistic, hedonistic asshole to begin with (or so I'm told).<br />
<br />
I moved about a block way from work. As a "fucking" teacher. It's too close to comfort. I see these students everyday, and they're not little kids, but kids my age. I remember being a teenager. I never really left. I'm still living it, except I'm arguably much older and wiser, and my shitty teaching gig gives me a little bit more money than the average Thai teenager. The point is, it was hurting me more than it was helping me to be closer to work.<br />
<br />
My first week I moved in,I brought a girl home. She took all my money and some computers. The money I can deal without, there will always be more money The computer killed me... I lost 2 months of drawings, For me, that was devastating. I don't give a shit about money, but the art can never be re-created. That same week, V (remember him?) was busted for buggering boy in Cambodia. My best friend in Asian is a boy diddler. I knew he was bent towards the same sex, but little boys? I don't believe it. Innocent until proven guilty, but coming from the artsy-fartsy drunken fool, that's a little much even for me. Two days later, the sweetest, nicest couple you would ever meet, celebrating 15 years together with the birth of the their first daughter, were instead holding an memorial. Jan 18 of every year to remember 30 days of Angel Blue. I never knew or met you, but you changed my life.<br />
<br />
So I moved again. After I beat the shit out of the dog down the street (old habits die hard). After 5 nights of this poor dog,yowling, I jumped the fence, and taught the dog a lesson. No more barking dog. However, in a land of Buddhists (that eat chickens, pork, bugs, and other things), touching a dog is a big no-no. When is rabbit season, again?<br />
<br />
It took me 4 hours to leave my former place, drive all over and find a new place. I'm glad I did. Cheaper ($60 per month), air con, and refrigerator. What an amazing invention. Keeps beer cold.<br />
<br />
This new place is in the thick of life. No expats. no western influence.<br />
<br />
Just people living.David tzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15493308363481432060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4079267220177352381.post-15879478722665373022013-10-23T02:15:00.000+07:002013-10-23T02:15:14.489+07:00I don't appreciate my friends as much as I should.Let's face it. I can be a real asshole. I can be worse than that, especially to the people I love the most, like my sister.<br />
This week should me how lucky I really am. I have the luck of the devil.<br /><br />It started off pretty good. I was all full of vigor and ready to take on the world. Instead of taking a tourist package, I was going to go out on my own to obtain the all elusive Thailand Tourist Visa. If you are from a First world country, you can fly in to Thailand and get a 30 day visa waiver. It's not actually a visa, just permission to fuck around for 30 days. If you travel by land, you get the same thing for 15 days. There is no limit to how many times you can do this. However, leaving or flying out every 30/15 days is a real pain in the ass.<br />
<br />
There is another option. You can actually apply for an actual visa that allows you to stay for 60 days. If you you pay extra, you get another 60 days. If you go to the Thailand Immigration office in Bangkok, you can get up to another 60 days, so in total, you could stay up to 6 months. Leaving every 15 days, compared to every 6 months, is a no brainier.<br />
<br />
So off I went, on my own. I went to the most southern border of Thailand/Cambodia. What a desolate shithole of a place. I hitched a ride on the back of a motorcycle for $1 and caught a bus to a place called Sihanoukville. Half way through the trip, the bus broke down, so I found myself with my fellow travelers on the side of the road waiting to get another bus. Eventually it came, but not before the perishable goods in the Styrofoam containers, perished.<br />
<br />
Sihanoukville is on peninsula and is the the only beach area in Cambodia. Lots of old perverted men owning bars, running brothels. I rented a moto for $5 a day and got rip roaring drunk and rode all over town for a couple of days. There are cops doing ride checks everywhere, but they don't care if you't drunk, only if you have an international driver's license. I didn't have enough money to pay them off, so they let me go. The next day, my host got stopped by the same cops (with no license at all), but his bar employee was in the process of delivering coffee to the cops, so after a few words, they let us go again with no consequences.<br />
<br />
Always the entrepreneur, I met a couple of perverted bar owners and did a couple of jobs that paid for my trip. US dollars is the norm in Cambodia, and expats pay US prices. Non of this "you're in Asia, you should be paid what we pay the Asians" BS. A lot of good that did me when I left for Phnom Pehn.<br />
<br />
I took the night bus. To help with the trip I bought a 10 pack of Valium for about $0.50 I think I took too many, because I ended up 500 Km past Phnom Pehn and had to take another bus back. All that money I just made was slowly being wittered away. When I finally got the Phnom Pehn, I went straight to the Thai Embassy, but was late to submit my application. I let some Tout do it for me, for an additional $40 dollars. I had no intention of paying him $40 dollars. I just agreed to it to get it down. Then I went to sit out the weekend at a guest house. For the whole adventure there, read the previous post.<br />
<br />
When I got my passport back, I had $10 US to my name.I got a bus to Poipet. I had $2 left over. I crossed the border and started walking the 6 km to the train station. A dude drove by asking if I need a ride. I said, " sure, if it's free"<br />
<br />
A few meters later, the same guy was sitting there waiting for me and drove me to the train station for free. I could not be more thankful. I got on the train with my last $2, and suffered though a 8 hour train ride that was actually only 300 km. I went back to my old hostel in Bangkok. I told them my adventure. They gave me a couple of beers, some smokes, and a bed to stay in. I have no money. I don't know why or understand why they were so kind to me. I contacted my recruiter and a few more friends. My friend is going to meet me tomorrow to lend me a couple of bucks to get through the week. My recruiter, tried to send me money through Western Union but had a hell of a time, and had to leave town for the week. When she gets back, she has a couple hundred dollars for me.<br />
<br />
I'm glad I'm back in Bangkok. I thankful that even though I can be a real prick at times, I have some of the best friends in the world. Friends that overlook my faults and bend over backwards to help a man in need. I love you all, even if I don't say or show it enough.David tzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15493308363481432060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4079267220177352381.post-56518905759417670592013-10-21T05:45:00.001+07:002013-10-23T01:24:09.396+07:00Plus 30 more Days in Bangkok and onward to CambodiaThe first week in Bangkok was mostly about getting around. Once I go that down, I tried to figure out how long I could party, yet still wake up early enough to go to work by 7:30. I managed about 5 hours of sleep a night. That's a whole other 18A story. It's being edited by someone other then myself. it's totally rambling BS.<br />
<br />
I actually only taught for a week. Then it was students writing exams, and desk warming. I did graphic design for a tourism group instead. The internet sucked. Slow and flaky. A reoccurring theme throughout this narrative. On the odd occasion I actually did some teacher work, entering scores into an Excel spread sheet, rather than fix my mistakes, they would print it out, circled it, and told me how many digits I was off, so I could correct it. By correcting it, they had to re-open the Excel spreadsheet, insert my correction... I asked "why didn't you just change it, if I got it wrong? Why waste the paper and time? If you made a change, and you want my okay to change it, show it to me, and I'll initial it. I'll sign off and now it's not your liability."<br />
<br />
I did nothing for 2 weeks. It was a routine like living in any other city. I woke up, shit, showered and shaved and made the 1 hour long trek to work where I sat at a desk for 8 hours and did nothing. I did some graphics for a tourist company, so that's not entirely true.<br />
<br />
Eventually my time in Thailand was up. I milked it. I milked it enough, money is owed to me. I had to do I visa run.<br />
<br />
The first run was an experience. I missed the agency bus, so I hot-tailed it to the last skytrain stop, got on a bus and made it in seconds flat. I got snaked as soon as I got off the bus and paid too much for a Cambodian visa. I walked across, walked through no man's land... it didn't seem to ever end.... but I was actually in Poipet. Imagine the old west, but all Asian. Turned around, walked back into Thailand, got another 15 days, I missed the bus, so I crashed out on a bench at the train station. A 6 hour train ride to Bangkok is $2. A 6 hour bus ride to Bangkok is $7. I went back to the routine.<br />
<br />
Then it all changed. 15 Days was up, I need a new visa. But not a visa waiver given to First World countries that's not actually a visa at all, but a proper non-immigrant tourist visa. This meant an application to a Thailand Embassy outside of Thailand. Which where I find myself now.<br />
<br />
I just got paid. Not all I was owed, but enough. I set out for the capital of Cambodia for my tourist visa run via the most southerly route. I thought I'd visit a guy I'd never met but had known for years recently settled in Sihanoukville. Awesome time. Emerald Bar, by the old bus station, downtown. Central to everywhere. Good rates, good food, great people. Bikes for rent, easy access to islands and buses. I swam in the ocean almost every day.<br />
<br />
I did a couple of graphic jobs in the week I was there. Paid for my trip. Took a night bus to Phnom Pehn that had actual beds instead of seats. I overstayed my welcome. I woke up 500 Km past that. I had to wait until 8:30 for the next bus back to PP. Another 5 hour trip. I finally got to PP. I got a tuk-tuk driver to take me about 5 km to the Embassy. The embassy was no longer taking applications, but a guy assured me that he could sneak it in for a $40 surcharge on top of the usual $40 visa fee. It was now costing me $80. I had $90. I agreed, I was desperate. He gave me his number to call when the passport was ready. His buddy took me to a hotel to wait it out for the weekend. I sat on the balcony drinking beer waiting for time to go by.<br />
<br />
I got bored. I went out. I don't know where. It did not end well. It didn't end that badly either. I took $10, my phone and keys. I come home with no money, no phone and no keys. The tuk-tuk driver taking me home, called ahead to his buddy, took me a secluded spot where his buddy was waiting and worked me over. Being mugged sucks. My jaw hurts. My ear hurts. My pride hurts, and I have a nice scar forming on my back, but I'm okay. They got the security device from my online banking which is useless without the code, and my phone. That one is the killer. Anybody got an old android phone they're not using? I could really use one.<br />
<br />
Stumbling finally home, I made it to my room where I banged on the gate until someone let me in at 3 am. I had no key, so I demanded they open my door... I was drunk and I'd just been mugged.<br />
<br />
I thought they got everything, but then I remembered that I always take what I need, not what I have. I don't need ID or credit cars, or wallets. A little bit of cash, my phone, my keys. gone... forever. The passport is safe with some shady character at the Thai Embassy. He's not getting his $40 bribe. He's getting $10, if that. I need cash to get home or the visa he worked so hard to get, is worthless. If he gives me a deal, I'll get his number and refer some friends to him.<br />
<br />
Tomorrow is a new day.David tzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15493308363481432060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4079267220177352381.post-9584320788598663002013-10-09T03:05:00.000+07:002013-12-10T04:05:37.835+07:00Cowboys, Perverts, Girls, Boys and not quite anything.<div class="MsoNormal">
I’ve been here a
month now things are pretty much routine at this point. I wake up, go to work,
come home and work some more. I struggle to make ends meet coming into a
foreign country with no money to begin with. Everything I do is on credit until
I get paid and once that happens, I have to pay off the credit, and start all
over again. I do my best to spend far less than I actually make, but, I’m not
always successful. I’m in Bangkok-- I indulge too much sometimes.<br />
<br />
If I try hard, I can survive on less than $3 a day. I only make $30 a day. That
means no drinking, no smoking, 2 meals and rent are paid for that. It’s a very
tall order to fulfill. Booze is cheaper, but not by much-- it sucks me dry,
continuously. And then, the girls... I’m only a man, and a weak one at that. I
can hardly avoid my mistress-- the beer. The constant lure of nubile Asian
Lolitas is too much. I spend my time drawing them instead. I watch, I observe,
I feel a little like a stalking serial killer that doesn’t follow through on
any of his desires.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So here I sit
outside a bar on street called Soi Cowboy. The same bar a shootout occurred in
a movie about drinking too much and the day after. The girls don’t wear
panties. At least I know they ain’t boys. Across the street, I see a whole lot
more girls. I know these aren’t actually girls because when you see a person in
a bikini, there is a huge difference between camel toe and a bulge, even if
it’s a small Asian bulge. They have really great boobs, though.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The thing that
strikes me as the most weird is the endless stream of white western girls with
their western boyfriends. Is this a test? How long do these relationships last?
Who’s the more interested? The girls or the boys? We all know the boys are
walking down the street with their eyes bugging out at all the sex. The girls
either look fascinated or disgusted. Even more weird than that is the couples
of 60+ plus females. They look like tourists on a package tour and they look
truly disgusted-- didn’t anybody tell them what this street is or what it
means? Did they just stumble upon it or did they search it out?<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I go to a number of
different bars. All in the name of research, of course. The second one has
about 50 girls on a small stage about the size of 2 king size beds. Right above
it is a glass ceiling. The girls that have risen above this glass ceiling are
dressed in nothing but running shoes and a short pleated skirt. Underboob takes
on a whole new meaning when you look at it from 10 feet below and there is no
shirt covering up the rest of it. There’s the added bonus of the up-skirt shot
with no underwear as well.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I go outside because
even in Asia, in this “high-class” part of town, you have to smoke outside, and
I take a seat. Beside me are two fat Russians wearing the stereotype of an LA
pimp. They speak fluent Thai to the staff, and the bouncers at the door treat
them like royalty. These must be the owners. This is where I notice the
lady-boys across the street, the chunky western woman testing their goggle-eyed
boyfriends, the old lady couple visiting the zoo. The children spending their
lives growing up on this street starting by selling flowers, graduating to drug
running, pimping and “dancing”<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Back inside, a beer
is double the price of anything in a store just so perverts like me can stare
at the ceiling looking upskirts and at underboob while 50 young Asian Loitas
dance on 2 mirror king sized beds. I gladly pay it. And I pay it again and
again. And again. Each girl has a number, so you can choose. I think of Z, I
ffel nausea and a small amount of vomit rises in my throat. The male part of me
chokes it down, I can’t help myself-- I thinking with the brain in my pants and
I’m disgusted with myself, but I haven’t killed anybody yet, so I continue to
watch with intense fascination like a stag in rut caught by headlights.<o:p></o:p></div>
David tzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15493308363481432060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4079267220177352381.post-90104205996070159972013-09-30T03:02:00.000+07:002013-12-10T12:37:34.421+07:00Narz, bangkok, Surchumvit soi 23<div class="MsoNormal">
Like all clubs in Bangkok, you could miss it if you didn't
know what to look for. It could be a shack on a river, but this is Sukrchumvit, not any river.<br />
<br />
In the heart of downtown Bangkok, this place knows
where it’s the shit, so don’t be a backpacker fresh of the boat
expecting to mack some chicks. You need to bring some game and some money.
Partying doesn't come cheap, no matter city in the world you are in.<br />
<br />
Cover can run
you 400 baht and 2 more drinks on top of that. For those of you who haven’t
learned how to use the exchange app on your phone, that’s about $20 US. There are 2 floors. The first floor is
mostly native Thais. The second storey is the hip hop drum and bass you’re used to-- with a Thai flavour, of course... This is a native club. This is where the
natives go party. If you’re anything but Thai, expect to feel out of place.<br />
<br />
If you like to
be in the thick of things and really feel what it’s like to live in different
country and feel the shit-- this is the place to go. You won’t find this on Lonely
Planet. People like you don’t get
invited.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Downstairs is mostly a trance to chill out out. For a more
hip hop vibe go upstairs. Most of the patrons are young students. This is where
they go to chill and let loose. If you are not down with that, don’t bother.
This is not a meat market. They are not here to get laid and fuck old white
men. That’s what Khosan Rd is for. This is a place to chill. Studies are down,
work is over, lets’ dance and party. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Drinks, on average are like what ever you would expect to
pay in the US-- 5-6 a drink. Or 250 baht.
Finding the place is only for those in the know. We know it is.</div>
David tzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15493308363481432060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4079267220177352381.post-9627699347354996752013-09-30T02:57:00.000+07:002013-12-10T04:01:11.668+07:00<div class="MsoNormal">
The other day I was bored so I went to a place called
Patpong. What a place. I don’t even know where to begin, so I’ll start at one
end of the street. By the time I got 2 metres, I had been offered 23 ping pong
shows. I refused them all. After about another 50 feet, I got sucked into a
place called King’s court. I think it was the cheap Sam Miguel that sucked me
in. It’s a premium where I come from, but dirt cheap at this place.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As soon as I sat down, I was immediately attracted by the
suicide girls. Girls with curves. Not like most Asians who are all skin and
bones, but healthy Russian or black or Chinese-- girls with curves amid tattoos
and shit. Big boobs. The cheap beer wasn't bad either.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
After dealing with the pimps and madams, the girls approached me on their own. I
bought a few drinks; they actually bought me a few. When they were finished
“working” we went for some food. I ate Thai food they don’t normally serve to
us Westerners because they think it’s too spicy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was a good meal and a good time.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I went back. This time they knew me, and set me up like
royalty. We were allowed to relax without being “tout”ed by a bunch of touts.
The girls I met before made their rounds, we drank our drinks.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cost-- nothing</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Place-- Patpong</div>
David tzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15493308363481432060noreply@blogger.com0Bangkok, Thailand13.7278956 100.5241234999999713.2342916 99.878676499999969 14.2214996 101.16957049999998tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4079267220177352381.post-56345422377969137942013-09-09T19:15:00.001+07:002013-09-09T19:15:02.337+07:00One Week in Bangkok...<div class="MsoNormal">
Transportation</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There are too many options and most of them are only
available to locals. This is not to say that you can't take them, only that you
may not be aware of them. I could take a bus if I knew how to read Thai... but
I can't, so every trip is an adventure to an unknown destination in the general
direction I want to go.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There are these Toyota mini pick-ups everywhere. They're
like the local version of the local bus routes. If you are on an actual bus,
it's probably an intercity/district bus. Tuk-tuks (the tourist money grab),
motorcycle taxis, and these pick-up trucks are the transportation mode of the
day. They cost about 30 cents (10 baht) per ride. If you pay more, you're being
ripped off and you should get out or re-negotiate (cost of the trip is usually
discussed at the beginning of the journey). 400 baht ($13) may not seem like
much of a fortune to the average westerner for a Taxi, but you could eat 3
meals a day for 6 days for the same amount of money in Thailand. Tuk tuks are
for tourists. Don't use them unless you know where you're going and how much it
costs to get there or they will rip you off- that's their goal, white boy.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Taxis do not have GPS, unless they are coloured blue..
Google Maps (and Wi-Fi service) is your friend, as a newcomer to Bangkok. Taxi
drivers are stupid. They don't know they're own city at all and will often ask
for a phone number of your destination so they can call and get directions. To
be fair, these cities outside of North America have no idea what gridlock is
since there is no grid to lock, but city streets made for a horse and carriage
don't accommodate motorized vehicles very well. Nor is there a way to make
streets wider when the buildings are built right up to the edge of street in
the first place. Naming and numbering those same streets is a nightmare. It's
no wonder they are clueless. Taxis are very cheap for the service they provide,
but be prepared to know exactly where and how to get where you are going. If
you have internet available to you, mapping out and planning your trip ahead of
time will save you a lot of headaches. It is much easier to point at a map on
your smartphone and say “go here” than to try to mime your way to a destination
the taxi driver doesn't know of, or how to get there. Showing them a map also
prevents them from trying to scam you by taking a “short cut.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Internet and Mobile Phones</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Getting on the internet is as easy as buying a USB dongle
and a SIM card from the 7/11. There are a couple of service providers to choose
from, but they are all essentially the same. Once you have the USB stick and
SIM card, you can purchase time for about $5 or $10. As far as I can tell, you
are charged by time rather than amount downloaded, but I haven’t really tested
that theory yet. If you spend a lot of time screwing around on Facebook, you
will spend a lot of money doing it, but if you are just checking for messages
and communication, then your pay-as-you-go service can last a few days or week.
Many places have free Wi-Fi if you ask, but you will need a username password
almost every time, too. I brought my mobile phone from Canada and unlocked it for about $20 (Rogers wanted $50). With another SIM card picked up at the 7/11, I suddenly had a phone again and access to the provider's Wi-Fi network when I was in range of a hotspot. This can be a little spotty as well, but better than nothing.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Food & booze</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I am loving Thai street food. There is still a lot of rice
in every meal, but no soup or kimchi. When you do eat soup, it’s usually with
noodles and you add your own spices to flavour it. Your options are sugar,
vinegar, red pepper, and fish sauce. You can make it as sweet, sour or spicy as
you prefer. Pad Thai is usually a plate of rice with a choice of meat and
curry-like sauce poured on top. You can also get all sorts of meat on a stick,
fresh fruit smoothies... There are endless possibilities when it comes to
eating food on the street and the prices can’t be beaten. In a restaurant you
can easily expect to pay the equivalent of about $5 or $10 per meal, but street
food won’t cost you any more than a dollar.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Alcohol is readily available, but chain stores won’t make
any sales before 5 pm or after 12 am. It’s pretty easy to bypass this law by going
to a mom & pop store or one of the millions of bars throughout the city.
Domestic beer is about $1.50 for a large bottle or tall can, and about $1 for a
normal sized bottle. In a bar, the cost is closer to $3.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The people</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
When it comes to people, I've found that they are pretty
much the same no matter what country or culture you are in. Each country has
their own idiosyncrasies, but for the most part they are the same.
Aggressiveness is frowned upon in all Asian countries. It shows a lack of
control, but when encountering language barriers it’s sometimes unavoidable. In
Canada, when you want to get something done, there is more of a sense of doing
it right NOW rather than later. In Korea, and Thailand, as much as they like to
talk about a fast culture, there is actually a pretty lassier-faire attitude to
getting things accomplished in a timely manner. Generally, people are pretty
friendly and helpful everywhere, but you will always encounter that one person
who isn't when it matters most. And that is true in every country.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The City</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Bangkok is a large sprawling metropolis with the same
problems as every city-- traffic and pollution. When compared to some place
like Vancouver, it’s disgustingly dirty, but if I compare it to Seoul, it’s
really no different. Certain areas are very well maintained. Especially around
the large malls where there are litter police (and tourists). Tossing a cigarette butt can result
in a fine. In other parts of the city however, it can be so dirty, the smell is
overwhelming. There are a least a few garbage cans on the street, so it’s not
like Seoul in that regard, where the garbage can seems to be non-existent.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Canals</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Bangkok is criss-crossed by an extensive canal network. It
is possible to travel to any part of the city by water if you so desired. They
are also very polluted, but effort is being made to clean them. They add a
contrasting beauty to the city overrun by traffic congestion, with the banks of
the canals choked full of foliage and lined with banana trees. The bananas
should be rip in a week or so, but the Thais will probably snatch them up as
soon as they are able.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Animals</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
There are stray dogs and cats everywhere, but they are
pretty tame. I wouldn't attempt to pet any of them, but I don’t fear them
either. I've also seen lots of rats and a few geckos crawling up the side of
walls in the evening. The wildlife is very noisy at night, but you soon get
used to the din of frogs and crickets and other assorted fauna. One day, I was
walking over a bridge spanning a canal, and stopped to enjoy the view. When I
looked down, I saw what I thought at first was a log, but turned out to be a
very large lizard. When he saw me staring at it, it dove and disappeared into
the murky water. At a school I visited, the grounds had large ponds filled with
water lilies and fish. If it wasn't for the plastic bottles on the lilies, it
would look very nice.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Weather</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Hot. That is all. Sometimes it rains, but it’s still hot.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The Nightlife</div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
There are more bars
than you can shake a stick at. I've been to a couple of the usual hot-spots.
Khoasan Road is full of college kids getting drunk. It is fun to people watch
there because they are so out of control. Since it’s so hot all the time, some
bars consist of nothing but a bar set up on the street with a tent over it.
Another area called Cowboy Street is all old men and girlie bars. I walked down
the street to check it out, but I didn't partake in anything offered. My new
residence is in yet another part of town known for its ‘pong’ show, also
involving scantily-clad or naked girls. I have yet to explore this since I just
got here today. The place I'm staying at costs $3 per day.</div>
David tzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15493308363481432060noreply@blogger.com0Si Phraya, Bang Rak, Bangkok 10500, Thailand13.727206847510033 100.5171078443527213.726242847510033 100.51584734435272 13.728170847510032 100.51836834435272tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4079267220177352381.post-59648395461083072052013-09-02T00:42:00.003+07:002013-09-02T00:48:43.175+07:00and back again.I have finally arrived in Bangkok. It took 2 years, one of which was spent in a cage, but I had finally arrived. I know I'm back in Asia because no one can spit silently. They have to advertise that they're hacking up half a lung. Little old ladies rush the subway, fighting like Asian tigers to get that seat. Sales people are pushy but when I push back they get offended. If I wanted your services, I know where to go, I'll come to you. Don't push it in my face. On the other hand, it must work or they wouldn't persist in a such tried and true method. You want bang bang or boom boom? One will blow your mind and one will blow you. I assimilated quickly in the last 3 days and I'm ready to go. My only contact was V.<br />
<br />
V didn't answer his phone. My only contact. With only what was in my bags, no money, in a strange country. I had a general idea of the name of the place of where I was going courtesy of V, who had disappeared.<br />
<br />
At the airport, the taxi bookers argued amongst themselves of where I was actually going because no one knew. It took 4 cabs passing up the fare before I got a hit. This did not bode well.<br />
<br />
No options but to get in a cab and trust my directions or stay at the airport indefinitely.<br />
<br />
The cab driver spoke some English, but stayed silent the entire ride. It was a long ride, but I didn't mind, I was city-struck. I feel this way in every city I visit. I'm amazed-- I'm finally there and everything looks so new and different. Even when I've visited the city before, coming back feels the same way.<br />
<br />
The land is very flat, with many water ways. I saw packs of dogs drinking by the waterways. Lots of scooters. Many tricked out and stylized. There were no pine trees, but many palm trees. At the beginnign of each highway intersection there is a monumnet to the King. On the dashboard of the taxi cab was a miniture.<br />
<br />
Just over a huge suspension bridge, we pulled into a gas station. I looked at tewh gauge, it was half full. The driver got out and asked the group of mechanics, friends and co, directions to the area of town I was going. I was beginning to develop a strong appreciation of GPS. I had no wireless on my own phone, so I couldn't Google map it, and his phone was of the flip generation. He could barely get email, let alone Google maps and GPS.<br />
<br />
We finally got to where we were going. V works at a 'big' school. The 5 security guards were stand around in a circle, smoking, eyeing the strange foreigner all dressed in black in 30 degree weather, hauling bags outof a cab, wild hair, no shower, crazed by the last leg of his journey...<br />
<br />
No one knew who V was. His phone had decide to go on the fritz, but I was pissed because he wasn't answering his phone and he <i>knew</i> I was coming--I thought he had turned it off or forgot it. It turns out V was no longer V, but S. I would have strangled S if I had seen him at this point. 5 security guards, and 2 administrators figured out directions to V's home after we had figured out V was really S.<br />
<br />
S wasn't home. I had no local phone service or wireless. I was dead in the water. My phone still worked on roaming charges. $3 a minute talk, $0.75 per text. When you have no money, a $0.75 text is a big deal. I called a few times with no answer. Good-- because no answer means I'm not paying $3 a minute to say "where the FUCK are YOU?", bad-- because I'm in a country with no money, no place to stay, on a couch tossed carelessly outside the door of some 4 story building. Where the FUCK was HE?<br />
<br />
So there I sat. I tried to sleep. I was so tired, but the mosquitoes had other ideas.I kept calling S every 30 minutes. I went in search of a store with directions from one of the security guards. I bought 2 tallboys and a pack of smokes for $5. One call was a hit (it always works out, so chill out.) 2 hours later,and less than 5 minutes from that call, S rolls up on a scooter. Hugs are all around, bags are dragged into vast rooms, Js are smoked and we're off to a bar for S's farewell party because he was just fired, this was his last day and he needs to move out in 2 days.<br />
<br />David tzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15493308363481432060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4079267220177352381.post-89117762450553680692013-09-01T23:39:00.001+07:002013-09-01T23:39:06.313+07:00... limbo...There is some sort of stupid rule that you have to be at the airport 3 hours before your flight for international connections. Q helped me with this. At least there was free wi-fi-- that last really free wi-fi I would see for a long time.<br />
<br />
Bags checked, boarding pass procured. Sorted. Now what do I do? I have no money, so, no booze (but this is Canada, so no booze anywhere anyway. Stupid Protestant society.. Did I mention that I left Canada with about $1 in my pocket? I downloaded the other drug of the masses-- tv shows, and watched them instead. 200 people looking at their phones/tablets laughing to themselves.<br />
<br />
I sat next to a little old chinese woman with an afro. I helped her with the entertainment system on the back of the seat. She watched Korean dramas. When it came to food, we ate the same options. I ate the leftovers.<br />
<br />
When I got off the plane, it was 5 am. The airport in Shanghai was closed. There were now 50 people confused about how to transfer to different destinations, 7 hours later. One of us discovered we could go through customs & immigration or we could wait until a transfer ticket window opened. We went through customs and immigration.<br />
<br />
I still had no money, but a miracle happened and I found some funds. I bought a couple of beers from the vending machine. I paid for wi-fi. I couldn't blog, tweet or book my face. Youtube was kaput. I could Fark and I could stream Veetle. i was blocked by the Great Firewall of China. I couldn't do anything but check my bank account at the bank of Hang Kong... I had the foresight to at least chose the best international bank. Citi is another one. I tried to sleep, but airport benches are about as comfortable as a concrete jail floor. At least I had a pillow and a blanket in jail.<br />
<br />
The gate in China turned out to be a door leading to a bus that took us to some stairs leading up to the plane. I've never gotten on a plane by a stairway before... not a 767 jet plane. And then we waited another hour. My seatmate got another seat next to his friend, so I had 2 seats to myself. A concrete jail floor is still more comfortable than 2 seats on a plane to spread out on. And I even had 2 pillows and a blanket this time. No entertainment system either (I almost expected to see propellers .This plane was in desperate need of a retro fit), but I have the entire 2nd season of Homeland on my computer and a couple of fresh new episodes of Pawn Stars. I love that show.<br />
<br />
When I got off the plane, the Thailand immigration officer was too concerned with talking to his colleague to notice I had no address in Thailand, no money and no means of exit. I got my baggage and negotiated my way to V.David tzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15493308363481432060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4079267220177352381.post-51701476324706651552013-09-01T22:53:00.003+07:002013-09-01T22:53:58.225+07:00To hell...There's nothing really hellish about Vancouver (or Canada), but it served as a reminder of how much I have changed in the last 10 years overseas. I reconnected and met so many new/old friends, but I never really "reconnected" with anybody enough to compel me to stay.<br />
<br />
The best part by far, was hanging out with my little monkey, Z. Except she ain't quite so little any more. She's a young woman at the beginning of her life. With a brain of her own and opinions. It's very strange (for me) but really cool. The last time I hung with Z, she was 6. The difference between 16 & 6 is beyond words, yet I don't feel much different between 20 & 40 in myself, though I'm sure there are some. It would be stupid and ignorant (arrogant?) to think otherwise.<br />
<br />
I spent most of my time watching TV, waiting for her to get off work, waiting for her to finish hanging out with her friends, waiting for her to finish hanging out with her boyfriend... she has no time for dear old dad. Cat's in the Cradle and all that. But it was awesome-- the time I had.<br />
<br />
For the most part, we walked around window shopping and talking about whatever topic came to mind. I didn't get as nearly as much time as I wanted to pick her brain, but it was good enough. M & G have done an amazing job being parents. I know this because I had very little to do with it, so the cool, awesome person she is has nothing to do with me. My biggest (and only) regret. And yet, I don't regret it too much because we have a special connection, even more so now, that very few daughters and fathers have. She'll always be my little monkey, but I respect her as a young <b>adult</b>. Cool shit.<br />
<br />
I tried to meet her boyfriend, S, but she was too uncomfortable, or maybe he was too uncomfortable. In either case, I felt that if he was that important, I would meet him eventually (he could be a son-in-law), or he would join a long list of soon-to-be ex-boyfriends and it wouldn't matter if I met him or not. I can barely remember some of my own ex-girlfriends, and I did more than just meet them.<br />
<br />
The rest of the time I did my best to stay as inebriated as possible with no money whatsoever. Not become I'm a cheap bastard, but I don't have any money (buy my book, buy my art, you freeloading cretins!).<br />
<br />
I meet my childhood friend/brother-from-another-mother S for a few nights. I have 3 friends like this. 2 of them are actually brothers from the same mother and father and the one left over is a mutual brother. Out of all three, only one of them is on any social networks. the other 2 are practically Luddites except they embrace technology-- just not Facebook. I can respect that, but it makes it difficult to stay in touch in this day and age.<br />
<br />
S wrote a song. He writes lots of songs, like so many of my friends do, but he did it on a PC. He is like me-- as an artist using computers, it's not the Apple Mac you have, it's how you use the computer you are given. I could care less if it was a Mac or not. It makes no difference. Photoshop is the same on every computer, and according to S, the music shit is the same. V, a fiend I will talk about more in the next post, is the same. A PC setup that kicks the shit out of any Mac for a quarter of the investment. Apple fanboys can kiss my ass. The song he wrote is #1 in Germany by some band called Front Line Assembly. I heard they were really popular in Japan during the 90's. After the struggles we have/are going through, good for him. We indulged a night of debauchery-- drinking (the PC version), and hanging out at music studios and nightclubs. It got messy(the PC version) and at our age (we're not 20 anymore, bro), took a few days of recovery.<br />
<br />
C lives on the coast. I never got to see him. I'll see him again.<br />
<br />
B lives in Croatia or some shit like that. I'll see him next. One day soon.<br />
<br />
P and I avoided each other as much as possible. I did not reconnect with P. Mostly because, like my family (and I mean my sister), they don't understand why or what I'm doing. I encountered a lot of this in Canada. I understand why you want to stay and love your stability. That's not me, I can't do that, why don't you understand that? He got up at 6 am every day and went to work at a soul-sucking job that he's had for 20 years. When he was finished, he got drunk and stoned and complained about how bad his life was. He has done that everyday. For as long as I've known him. Change it. Enjoy and celebrate life. And you call me crazy. Sure, he has a steady income and never has to worry about what to eat, but he has 2 mortgages and when he finally pays them off so he can enjoy the property, he'll be dead. Exciting. That's what I want to work towards. Fuck that. I'll take my "here and now" attitude and live today, any day. M has a similar attitude. At least she has some beautiful spawn. That's something to work for, I won't begrudge that-- but this is not 1923-- my job and what I do is outside anything that has been attempted before, but it doesn't make it any less worthwhile. You may see it as lounging around doing nothing, but I assure you, it takes more effort than you can imagine. Try to understand, and don't judge me just because I'm not like you. If I was just like you, wouldn't that be a boring world?<br />
<br />
The extra time I took in Vancouver allowed me to see people I may not have seen otherwise. It was eye-opening and mind expanding. Shout outs to P, M, C and H. Beers, dinner, pot, whisky, poker and whores. None of that happened, but the subject came up.<br />
<br />
A shout out goes to Q. A man who has his own demons, who does better than most. I couldn't have done this without you.<br />
<br />
He fed me and drove me around when he had better things to do. He lent me a bike so I did't have to pay $3 per bus ride. He drove me to the airport. Into limbo...David tzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15493308363481432060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4079267220177352381.post-56081018876005498392013-08-18T11:34:00.001+07:002013-08-19T02:27:01.700+07:00Some things never changeI've been staying with a friend here in Vancouver. I lived with him before I moved to Korea. In the same apartment. I don't think he's cleaned it since I was here last, 10 years ago. There is a thick layer of dust over <i>everything</i>. I opened a closet the other day, there is now a mark on the carpet from the door moving the dust off the carpet. It's truly disgusting.<br />
<br />
My friend is Asian. Hong Kong Chinese, to be exact. He is unlike any Chinese/Asian man I have ever met. Maybe that is why I'm so bitter. I was expecting all Asians to be like my friend. He is also socially awkward, like most of my friends-- a little weird, but he is one of the most kind-hearted, generous people I know. He puts up with me after all. He's never rude, always tries to be respectful and would give you shirt off his back. He also smokes more dope than any one I know, including myself.<br />
<br />
Naturally, being Asian from Hong Kong, my friend eats a lot of Asian food when he has to cook for himself. His cupboards are full of noodles and strange salty sauces. Ironically enough, in his fridge is a tub of kim-chi. Out of sheer laziness, I ate kimchi and rice for dinner a couple of days ago because I didn't feel like cooking. I guess I had to cook the rice, but again, being Asian, my friend also has a rice cooker, so I didn't do much other than but rice and water in a pot and press a button. I swore I would never eat rice and kimchi together in the same meal again. I was wrong, but I only ate that one meal, not three in a row for 8 months. It has been at least four months.<br />
<br />
Coming back here made me remember how much of Asian culture I had already experienced years before I ever went to Korea. Seeing this apartment again made realize how nothing, and I really mean absolutely nothing has changed in 10 years. The boxes of crap are in the exact same place with 10 years of dust covering them.David tzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15493308363481432060noreply@blogger.com0Vancouver, BC, Canada49.261226 -123.113926849.09541 -123.4366503 49.427042 -122.7912033tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4079267220177352381.post-34952984835732623482013-08-15T04:39:00.003+07:002013-08-15T04:39:50.427+07:00No WiFiIs both a blessing in disguise and a pain in the ass.<br />
<br />
It is a blessing because I might actually get some work done. When you're main job and source of income is your own creative juice, you need to spend a lot of time squeezing it for all it's worth. It's difficult to find the energy sometimes. The inspiration is everywhere, but actually following through is like exercising every day-- you want to do it and you know you it needs to be done, but any excuse to procrastinate is welcome. It's so much easier to waste hours on Facebook, or watching videos or TV. With no WiFi, I can actually spend time finishing the dictation of my novels, do the very much needed rewrites, maybe even finish those paintings I've been putting off (as soon as I get some actual paint to paint with).<br />
<br />
It's a pain in the ass, because as a person who is constantly in a different place, the only way I can communicate with the world at large or read the news or actually work, I have to leave the house and hunt down somewhere that offers free WiFi so I can check my email, search job sites for freelance work, reassure my friends & family I ma in fact still alive and work, such as writing this blog post.<br />
<br />
So here I sit at Starbucks, drinking iced coffee and leaching WiFi. It turns out I have 20 new email messages, only two or three that have any importance. The rest of it is pretty much spam even though I don't have my junk mail filter deleting them. There's no new messages and nothing really of interest on Facebook either, so I'm not missing much.<br /><br />I spent a couple of hours walking around my friend's neighbourhood. It's like a residential Chinatown with hipster cafes and eateries. The local corner store is (inevitably) run by a Korean couple. I brought a smile to their faces when I realized they were Korean and communicated almost entirely in Korean with them. At a crosswalk, on each of four corners is a bank. There are two small family-run grocers on either side of the street and a traditional toy store with a ceramic painting section. A little further down the street is a gallery/walk-in studio. When I find a source of cheap paint, I may go and use the facilities. I bought some cheap sunglasses and a hacky-sack(it seemed like the Vancouver thing to have) at a local dollar store.<br />
<br />
I also got a pen-like device (it looks like a silver bullet) to use on my touch screen that attaches to my smartphone by using a plastic headphone jack insert. It's good in concept, poor in execution. When you plug it in, you won't lose the pen, but you also won't hear any of the ringtones or notifications because the stupid smartphone doesn't realize it's not a pair of headphones...<br />
<br />
Another friend of mine lent me a bike. I haven't got it yet, but I pretty happy about it. Now I don't have to use the dumb bus system. Not only is it outrageously expensive, but the BC Transit system, in their infinite wisdom, have a new fare system where the tickets for the bus and skytrain are no longer compatible. So, if you use the bus and switch to the train, you have to pay <b>twice</b>. It's a blatant money grab and shameful for such a world-class city. They also don't have very many options for reduced fares. For a city that prides itself on it's forward-thinking and environmentalism, this is a huge FAIL. High fares and price gouging only encourages people to use cars instead.<br />
<br />
If I was staying here for longer than three weeks, I would buy a car or scooter. I have a bike instead. I'll be super fit by the time I get to Bangkok, another bonus since I have a 50 lb. bag to carry along with all my computer gear, sketchbooks, notebooks, & paintings. I decided the backpack I have specially designed to carry art supplies was too much, so I didn't bring it with me. I have a large sketchbook, some coloured pencils, brushes and blank canvases, but no paint or any other art supplies (I have a lot of different things you wouldn't expect to need, like rulers,French curves, various grades of pens and pencils and tools for carving). I'm sure I can find a small cheap starter set somewhere for a couple of dollars and I'll use up all the paint on one painting. I'll just buy a new set every time I want to paint a canvas.<br />
<br />
So far, I'm loving Vancouver. I never realized how much I really missed this city.David tzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15493308363481432060noreply@blogger.com0Vancouver, BC, Canada49.261226 -123.113926849.09541 -123.4366503 49.427042 -122.7912033tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4079267220177352381.post-4351087807922052752013-08-14T03:17:00.003+07:002013-08-14T03:28:16.742+07:00Vancouver, bitches!A new journey has begun. For the next three weeks, I'll be enjoying Vancouver and all the riches British Columbia has to offer. My flight out here was uneventful. And for that, I'm glad. It would really suck to crash upon landing. The more uneventful any flight is, the better. No thrills air travel is the way I like it. To say I'm excited to be here would be an understatement for more than a couple of reasons.<br />
<br />
First off, I'll be able to hang out with my daughter who, except for a brief few hours a couple of months ago, I haven't seen since she visited me in Seoul more than a couple of years ago.<br />
<br />
This was my first real home after high school, so I met a lot of people during my 13 years here and like Kitchener, it's going to be awesome to reconnect to all those people. If it can be managed, a buddy of mine has agreed we should go on a little road trip to Vancouver Island and the Sunshine Coast to visit some friends. The only problem, (and it's to be expected, really) is all those people now have kids and/or real 9 to 5 jobs, whereas, here I sit in a bar drinking (a) beer (and more than a couple of cups of coffee) and writing this blog, which is essentially my only job right now (which is good for you, otherwise you wouldn't have something to waste your time while you're at work ;-).<br />
<br />
That's not entirely true. Since I arrived at 1 am, I barely slept on an uncomfortable bench at the airport and then used their electrical plugs and WiFi for a few hours. During that time, I changed my location settings for a few websites like <a href="https://www.facebook.com/dtz247" target="_blank">Facebook</a>, Kijiji (<a href="http://vancouver.kijiji.ca/c-resumes-graphic-web-design-Graphic-illustration-logo-design-for-print-or-web-media-W0QQAdIdZ513086964" target="_blank">here </a>& <a href="http://vancouver.kijiji.ca/c-services-computer-Software-hardware-problems-solved-in-your-home-W0QQAdIdZ513078080" target="_blank">here</a>), Craigslist (<a href="http://vancouver.en.craigslist.ca/van/crs/3998900265.html" target="_blank">here</a> & <a href="http://vancouver.en.craigslist.ca/van/cps/3998885196.html" target="_blank">here</a>) and <a href="http://www.linkedin.com/profile/view?id=245337175" target="_blank">Linkedin</a>. Applied for a few jobs and made my plans for the day. As long as I can continue to find free WiFi wherever I go, I'm golden. Thanks to that same potentially free Wifi and free text messaging plans, as well as the fact I left a big deposit on my phone when I was connected to Roger's service, I don't even have to change my phone number until my service is disconnected when I go to Bangkok. If I can figure out how to unlock my phone without paying Rogers $50 to do it for me, I can use the same phone with a different SIM card when I get there. I love technology.<br />
<br />
So the plan later today is to meet Z, meet up with some old friends, reminisce about the past, catch up on the present and plan for the future.<br />
<br />
Peace.David tzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15493308363481432060noreply@blogger.com0Vancouver, BC, Canada49.261226 -123.113926849.09541 -123.4366503 49.427042 -122.7912033tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4079267220177352381.post-4601687009352072772013-08-04T20:04:00.005+07:002013-08-04T20:04:46.251+07:00Looking backOne cool thing about keeping a record or diary is the ability to look back at what you were doing years ago and see how things have changed. I can't look that far back, <a href="http://dtz247.blogspot.ca/2012/08/day-15-hwaseong-immigration-detention.html" target="_blank">only last year</a>, but it's still cool to see.<br />David tzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15493308363481432060noreply@blogger.com0Waterloo, ON, Canada43.4642578 -80.520409643.3720868 -80.681771099999992 43.5564288 -80.3590481tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4079267220177352381.post-59282999137474152112013-08-03T07:17:00.001+07:002013-08-04T19:45:39.796+07:00Friday night, Friday night, Friday night!And it's pissing rain. For dinner, I had a pizza. I made the pizza from scratch, including the dough. Then, I made cookies. It was awesome.<br />
I'm still making myself scarse from my sister, but I made two bracelets with/for my nieces.<br />
Then I went out. I bought a couple beers to go to a birthday party. From the time I left to the time I arrived at my destination, about 30 minutes, it went from beautiful sunshine to a dark and stormy night.<br />
The party is at a pub in the next city. I haven't seen the birthday boy in 20 years. I'm not sure what he looks like anymore. The pub is cool. Like the Cambie in Vancouver, or Hollywood in Seoul. All the girls wear a uniform consisting of a black tee with short, catholic school girl skirts. I don't mind the wait.<br />
I'm not prepared for the weather.<br />
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David tzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15493308363481432060noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4079267220177352381.post-79347337930255035212013-08-01T19:44:00.001+07:002013-08-01T19:44:08.359+07:00Today, For breakfast, I ate...I did zero sit-ups. It's been that kind of day. I actually started this post yesterday on my stupid smartphone, but I lost the post in the ether of the interwebs and had to start over. I have no idea what I was writing about before other than I was only writing for the sake of writing at least one thing today. Now, it's tomorrow. It hasn't change much. I'm still only writing for more of a placeholder than anything else. A record to show that I did.<br />
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Now, I'm killing time. My departure is imminent. I'm counting the days until I leave. In the meantime, my mother is babysitting my nieces. The idea that I'm (not really) looking after my sister's children for a week is a comedy of tragedies. I've been mostly staying out of the way. My computer needed fixing, I had plenty of things to occupy me.<br />
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For the first time ever, in my entire (20+ years) computer tech career, I did a complete systems backup. I've never backed up a computer in my life until yesterday. I've never needed to, and when people bring me their computers to fix, by then it's way too late, or they wouldn't be bring it to me. I usually just save what files I can and re-install Windows.<br />
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I got a new hard disk and it was the easiest upgrade/install I've ever done. My computer is clean and has no problems, though. I saved a basic backup disk image to a portable USB drive, swapped out the hard disk in my laptop for a bigger, faster, and uncut hard drive, restored the disk image from the backup in the portable drive to the new hard drive, and butta-bing, butta-bang, I'm back to working on my computer exactly as I left it... 12 fucking hours later... Watching little progress bars scroll across the monitor is worse than watching paint dry (which is worse than watching water boil. I know this because I can now say I've done all three). The process isn't entirely automated. I have to be there at certain points to click "ok" every so often. It sucks. That's why I charge the big bucks for this kind of stuff. It's boring.<br />
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I dictated a couple more pages of my novel into my computer. I sit here and talk to a computer for at least 2 hours a day. I'm in a house with 3 other people for 8 hours and I barely say a full sentence to any of them. How fucked up is that?<br />
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That's it. That's what I did for 2 days. For lunch, I had...David tzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15493308363481432060noreply@blogger.com0Waterloo, ON, Canada43.4642578 -80.520409643.3720868 -80.681771099999992 43.5564288 -80.3590481tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4079267220177352381.post-66353056819361041632013-07-30T05:09:00.001+07:002013-07-30T05:13:23.446+07:00WritingThose of you that have been reading for awhile may have noticed that I've been posting alot more lately. There are a couple of reasons for this.<br />
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First, I've completed the bulk if my transcribing in regards to my <a href="http://dtz247.blogspot.ca/2013/07/buy-my-book.html" target="_blank">jail memoirs</a> and two novels that I wrote while under the care of the Korean judicial system.<br />
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Second, I've recently created a new <a href="http://dtz247.blogspot.ca/2013/07/you-can-never-go-home-again.html" target="_blank">dramatic situation</a> in my life that actually gives me something to write about.<br />
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And third, practice. After a lifelong obsession with drawing, I find writing to be equally obsessive. I like it, apparently I'm good at it, and people seem to like reading it. And really, isn't that what we all want-- approval from our peers, to excel at a skill, and do something you love doing as a job?<br />
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I'm far from making a living at this (<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Available-Thursday-Paper-Tuesday-ebook/dp/B00DTFNX3E" target="_blank">buy my book</a> or <a href="http://www.redbubble.com/people/dtz247/portfolio" target="_blank">buy my art</a>), but two outta three ain't bad.<br />
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There's one more thing, on a much more personal level. In jail, I wrote to keep me sane and to keep a record of what was happening to me. Now that I'm out of jail, I've found that writing every day accomplishes a few different goals. It allows me to think things through and organize my thoughts. I highly recommend it, even if you don't plan on publishing it like I have.<br />
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Those little ideas I dream up can sometimes turn into big ideas, like books, or in relation to my usual obsession, a new artwork, or sometimes even a stand-up comedy routine.<br />
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Finally, it keeps a record of my life. I've had a pretty interesting life thus far. If I'm suddenly struck down with amnesia or some age-related degenerative disease, I, and my family will have a record of all my accomplishments and failures. No one wants to be reminded of failures, so let's think of them as learning experiences instead. Years from now, my daughter, family friends and I will be able to look back at this and remember. For that alone, it's worth it.David tzhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15493308363481432060noreply@blogger.com0Waterloo, ON, Canada43.4642578 -80.520409643.3720868 -80.681771099999992 43.5564288 -80.3590481