Random Ramblings 7: Resolutions, friends & all things Japanese.

True enough, a glimpse of the previous post is sufficient to cause me cringe. Not that I regret posting it. It served its purpose, which was to exorcise the inner turmoil within. Although it would have undoubtedly taken a longer time if not for friends. If there's something I can be thankful for, it's for the friends I have. Friends who I can trust and rely on, well at least those that are still friends. For those of you who have listened, commiserated, cajoled, consoled and/or kept me company, thanks.

Life's a funny thing. Like I remarked to one of the said friends, how ironic that he was trying to cheer me up with the exact same words that I said to him just a few days earlier to cheer him up. To which he replied ," Yeah. Life's a funny thing." Indeed.

Hard to believe Chinese New Year is a little under a month away. As usual, the festive mood is non-existent though I suspect I'll probably feel more festive in a couple more weeks when the perfunctory CNY shopping and rounds of lunches & dinners commence. The 'ang moh' New Year has passed though and with it came the de rigeur resolutions. Achievable resolutions which I intend to keep. Hopefully. One of last year's resolutions: Being a gym bunny lasted till say October last year? That's a good 8 months for someone who hates weights (and still does).

All three are ongoing right now, learning Japanese, managing my spending and finances and staying fit while keeping to a cool 60kg. ^^ If there's one resolution I fear I won't keep, it's probably the managing the finances part, which really isn't an option if i intend to move out and get my own place. There seems to be an inside joke amongst some friends who are betting I'll either 1. Drop out of jap classes after 1 month or 2. Fail the requisite exam at the end of the elementary course in June. The more generous ones say I'll fail. I'm absolutely heartened by their faith in me. lol.

Perhaps on hindsight, I was a little ambitious when I opted for the 5.5 months intensive elementary course which translates into semiweekly weekday evening classes that span 2 hours per class. I was aiming to finish both the elementary and intermediate classes in 1 year instead of the usual 2 (the advanced classes though are only available on a weekly basis). Well I still am. We'll see how things go. In the meantime, it's been a long while since I've been so studious haha. Though I finally managed to memorise the 50 hiragana characters and the 25 variants for this week's test. Sensei will be so proud. haha.

I realise I haven't talked bout the Japan trip yet. I'll probably do so in a later post or something. Suffice to say, Japan was sooo good. Worth saving up a year just to return the following year. Which is what I'll probably do. After all while the G-rated trip was great (in spite of 2 weeks with the family which can be tiring), I think an X rated trip with booze to boot would be much better. Lol.

And for the naysayers who think the jap learning craze is just a fad inspired by a japophile tendency after returning from Japan. It isn't. It's a life skill. I mean how can understanding anime, manga and jap porn be a fad? haha

Epilogue- The Swiss Trip.

Chinese New Year's around the corner, getting back into the hang of things which usually means long lunches, irate clients and massive paperwork. I did say I'd talk about the swiss trip but facebook and the ease with which photos can be uploaded does greatly reduce the impetus to blog about it. Or I could just be lazy. But I will do so briefly.

They always say first impressions last and my first impression of Switzerland when I landed in Zurich was that of efficiency. The most obvious example being their excellent rail and transport system which runs like clockwork, is highly interconnected and travelling to any part of the country is painless.

Trains and trams alike depart exactly when scheduled and punctuality is not a word just given lip service or expressed in % of trains that leave on time (sounds familiar eh.) In fact the only time when a train was delayed during my entire trip was once at interlaken where the train to Bern was delayed by 10 mins.

They made an announcement over the PA, apologised for the delay and asked passengers to head over to the next platform to take another train also headed to Bern which would be arriving 4 mins earlier than the delayed train. Just 4 mins and they have another train. Now friends, that is what I call efficiency, not some sorry ad proclaiming the % of trains that successfully arrive on time and have a few major breakdowns which leave passengers stranded for over an hour. Walk the talk.

The scenery and environment was great, certainly a very refreshing change from our cityscape. While Zurich was large, cosmopolitan yet still possessing that old world charm with the numerous cathedrals and stately architecture, it was quaint Bern with its spacious streets and medieval buildings in the Altstadt which I preferred. In many ways, it was indeed a medieval capital and the large swathes of open space coupled with the numerous cafes and cobbled streets made walking for hours on end an enjoyable activity.



Interlaken and the Jungfrau region in particular were scenic and smothered in snow. My greatest regret perhaps was not being able to ski due to the relatively short duration there. Besides I figured it'd be a waste of moola to rent the equipment just to spend most of my time on my bum in the snow. Sledding was the other alternative and proved to be a blast if not a rather accident prone one.



For one, the signs are ..ahem.. hard to read. I mean I know they have different slopes for skiing and sledding though on some slopes, both skiing and sledding is allowed. But having 2 slopes side by side with a pole and a sledding sign in the middle doesn't really help. You can guess what happened next. I went down the ski slope with the rented rickety sled.

I realised something was wrong when I pushed off, for one the slope seemed incredibly steep and more importantly only the skiers were whizzing past. But I was off and it was too late to stop. What followed was a hair raising eternity as the sled rocketed down the slope and a frantic attempt to brake only hastened a spectacular crash into a snow bank below that left me briefly winded. The sled spun a few frenzied circles before coming to rest beside the nearby thicket of trees.

So thankfully it was soft snow and not trees I crashed into, I doubt I'd still be in one piece otherwise. Other than that and another crash which involved having to brake violently to avoid a screaming korean woman on a runaway sled, sledding down the mountain was highly enjoyable and provided a decent workout. That's one winter activity I'll do again in a jiffy the next opportunity I get.

The food was great. Even though it consisted mainly of a lot of meat, cheese, cream and potatoes and in very sizeable portions. It's the kind of cuisine and serving size with which you can go in positively famished and leave positively stuffed. With just a single main course and beer and coffee to boot. So much so that I was amazed to an extent how they wolf down such stuff on a regular basis. It's fine in winter when you're almost perpetually hungry due to the cold but summer?



I guess it's an acquired taste/habit, by the end of the trip I was so used to the serving sizes, I was having a little difficulty adjusting to the local, asian sized portions when I returned. Coffee and Cigarettes were the other vice. I consumed copious amounts of both. Practically every meal ended with the de rigeur Latte Machiatto. I never liked smoking, still don't in fact, but it keeps you warm even if briefly which is excellent for long strolls in the frigid weather when your fingers get numb with cold. People smoke like chimneys there, with good reason I guess. I consumed like 3.5 packs, still have half a pack of Kent menthol lights lying somewhere in the knapsack. All that indulgence and toxification probably explains the extra 2 kg, grumbles, of which I've only managed to shed 1 thus far. Grumbles more.



The Swiss guys did not disappoint. As forewarned, the Swiss are incredibly reserved and while efficient, would usually not make the first move., preferring instead to respect your personal space until you show some interest. But once you get to know them better, you'll find them warm, affable and almost intensely passionate.

J. surprisingly chatted me up at the Samurai gay 'club/bar' at Bern (which is really more like a pub in size) while I was exchanging looks with another hottie across the bar and considering whether to make a move. He spoke in german first and after I indicated that I could only speak english, promptly launched into fluent english.

An apprentice banker, 23, and a french swiss, he proudly informed me that he was a lot more 'open-minded' having studied briefly in the USA where he found the people's friendliness a refreshing change. We talked for a bit, I finally found out the title of that song which had stuck in my head since the last jive at Play, dirty danced a lot and snogged like there was no tomorrow. I probably would have gotten into his pants if not for the fact that 1. he came with friends and 2. he was from out of town, a neighbouring city to be exact.

The other two, A. and H. I met in Zurich on New Year's Eve. H. was the hot, cute bartender at Cranberry's with the thickly accented english and A., suave and established in his mid 30s, I bumped into at T&M. H. was on shift for New Year's Eve so after getting his contact number and arranging to meet him the following day, I spent the rest of New Year's Eve with A.

Swiss men are reserved till their clothes are off then all inhibitions go out of the window and the seat of reason transposes to that glorious turgid organ which overrides all thought processes more complicated than SeX+Safe = Good.

A. was wildly passionate and highly attentive, almost painfully so but I must admit the acrobatic work out which included a voyeuristic new year fuck against the windows was highly enjoyable. By the time, we collapsed into bed, spent and sweaty, the first rays of a sleepy New Year's day wintry morning were peeping through the partially drawn shades. Good morniiing, A drawled, drawing me close. Good night I replied and we fell asleep, snuggled under the sheets till 2 in the afternoon.

H. was cute and had a lean yet lightly muscled toned body, the kind that really turns me on. While his command of english wasn't as good as A.'s, we all know the language of love (or lust rather) transcends all linguistic barriers. I know I've said this before but guys are highly visual creatures I'm no different and the sight and touch of a hot, hard body like the aforesaid coupled with a cute face is a potent aphrodisiac. Sex was a lot more boring than the one with A. He liked too much full body contact (think skin on skin massage) till I actually had to pop the alright let's fuck now shall we cowboy? question. Conventional but hot bod and a cute face so who am I to complain?

All in all a highly enjoyable trip... now to plan for my next one and to get started on the 3 year old New Year's resolution of picking up German...finally..damnit.

I leave you with that jazzy gotta-move-your-hips hit, Mercy by Duffy.

Mercy by Duffy




Yeah Yeah Yeah x4

I love you
but i gotta stay true
my morals got me on my knees
I'm begging please stop playing games

I don't know what this is
cos you got me good
just like you knew you would

I don't know what you do
but you do it well
I'm under your spell

Chorus
You got me begging you for mercy
why won't you release me
you got me begging you for mercy
why won't you release me
I said release me

Now you think that I
will be something on the side
but you got to understand
that i need a man
who can take my hand yes i do

I don't know what this is
but you got me good
just like you knew you would

I don't know what you do
but you do it well
I'm under your spell

You got me begging you for mercy
why wont you release me
you got me begging you for mercy
why wont you release me
I said you'd better release yeah yeah yeah

I'm begging you for mercy
yes why wont you release me
I'm begging you for mercy

you got me begging
you got me begging
you got me begging

Mercy, why wont you release me
I'm begging you for mercy
why wont you release me

you got me begging you for mercy
I'm begging you for mercy
I'm begging you for mercy
I'm begging you for mercy
I'm begging you for mercy

Why wont you release me yeah yeah
break it down

Off at last- Switzerland.

It feels a little surreal. That I'm finally leaving on a trip which I decided upon impulse just 40 days ago. Not that I have any regrets, if anything there is that growing sense of quiet anticipation towards the days ahead. Suffice to say, I doubt my outlook towards travelling in general and as a solo traveller in particular would remain the same after this trip.

So in 30 mins, I'm off to Switzerland that scenic land of snow, cheese, chocolates and watches (as the cousin repeatedly pointed out). I still have that ever-present nagging feeling of having forgotten something (I believe i forgot the frequent flyermiles card but there you have it), am wondering why the luggage seems to weigh a ton and have yet to come up with a complete itinerary. But half the fun is planning and improvising on the go isn't it? (For impulsive nuts like me hur hur)

With temperatures ranging from 0 C to -10 C in the cities and a horrific -15 C to -20 C at the mountains (Junfrau and Schilthorn), I'm mildly worried about freezing over. I love the cold, I've always detested the sweltering strength sapping heat of summer. But that said and done, being mind numbingly cold where the chill (and wind shudders) cuts to the bones isn't much fun either. I'll just have to see how much punishment I can take in Jungfrau, assuming I don't freeze first that is.

Food won't be a problem. Short of spicy, grotesquely exotic and swimming-in-oil food, I'm fine with trying almost all kinds of cuisines. Continental food in particular poses no problems at all, I could probably survive a year without the usual rice-noodle asian staple kind of food. Sure i might miss it from time to time but I won't die without it. Which is more than I can say for some family members (who used to pack belachan before 9/11..) and friends.

So I have no doubt I'll be enjoying the food though I'm equally sure the copious amounts of cream, cheese and meat will be deposited along the girth. Which probably does give me a reason to club in Zurich doesn't it? grins.

It's amusing how frenzied the Mother was. Do you have this? Do you have that? Where are they meeting you? (because she still assumes Annie and Kate are coming along) She'll probably enter into cardiac arrest if she knows the truth. The Sister tried to surreptitiously slip a devotional prayer book into my knapsack which I quickly disposed of. She even gave a little peck on the cheek which was a surprise.

Kinda makes you feel like one of those soldiers off to war the way they reacted even though I'm off for holls. Ah well, maybe I won't come back in one piece but hey I jolly well intend to have a good time damnit.

Switzerland, here I cum!

Ah Switzerland, the land of cheese, chocolate and cute guys. Those aren't the main only attractions of course. There's all the glorious scenery, mountains, culture and glorious snow. Those who know me better know I've never been the kind of person who absolutely must travel somewhere every year. I'll be quite happy staying at home too, slacking and chilling out, cognizant of the fact of just how much moola I'm saving by not travelling.

It's not that I dislike travelling mind you, it just never ranked very high up on my list of priorities which often included stuff like get a house, have more sex, get a car, party into the night. Did I mention more sex? Plus the fact that travelling often does involve spending a significant amount of money.

I guess working has changed my perspective somewhat. I'm still equally happy staying at home, luxuriating in the fact that I can wake up at noon and not give a damn about work. But going on a holiday and actually flying somewhere helps one to unwind fully. Even if it is a little pricey.

I'd always wanted to go to Switzerland. The land of the eternally snow-capped Alps, quaint buildings and refreshingly cold weather. Ever since I was a small tyke and the Mother went, "You know you were actually due later but I had them induce an earlier pregnancy so that I could give birth to you and go to Switzerland with your father." Yes and she went ahead for the said trip with my sister in tow while the baby was dumped with granny. So yes, it was what you would also call a childhood goal to 'visit Switzerland one day dammnit'.

But the decision to go to Switzerland was truly a last minute one. Originally Kate and I decided on Tokyo, Japan. Japan is another one of those 'must visit' places. Spend 6 or 7 nights in Tokyo and experience New Year there. However, that soon fell through when I realised just how prohibitively expensive a trip to Tokyo would be with the sky high Yen and the extremely expensive stuff in Tokyo in general.

Plus Kate was dragging her feet on the confirmation of her schedule as to when she could fly there from New York and the thought of spending almost $5,000 on a relatively short trip just to Tokyo wasn't very appealing. After all, cosmopolitan as Tokyo was, I was in the mood for some scenery and life outside the city.

So I figured why not Switzerland. To be honest I knew it wouldn't be cheap, probably another $5,000 but it was the variety, the location and the (slightly) longer duration that clinched it for me. But I knew Kate was dead set against Europe, having to spend a couple of weeks there on a business trip in November, so I would be winging it on my own if I went.

The conclusive 'Ah fuck it I'm going' mentality only set it on Sunday whereupon I decided it's gotta be Switzerland even if it's on my own. What followed was a veritable nightmare of checking and comparing the various airfares, reading the reviews for the various hotels for the least painful (yet acceptable) deals and scouring the numerous websites for best deals on room rates.

In fact, I'd no clear idea of just where I wanted to stay when I started though I promptly settled on Zurich, Interlaken and Bern for the stay. Transportation would be taken care of by the exhaustively comprehensive (and expensive) Swiss Pass which basically allows unlimited rides on all forms of public transport for a certain number of days.

I must say that planning a trip and all the necessary itinerary is damn bloody exhausting. I took an entire day and I only settled the flight package (which incidentally increased by $110 from the time I first checked it out to the time I finally settled on it 8 hours later), deciding on the check in dates and booking the hotels. Nothing planned yet for just what to do on various days, it was exhausting but fun in a way I guess.

I still need to plan just what I intend to do. I kind of have a general idea of what I have in mind, visit the sights and museums at Bern, attempt to ski (and not fail too miserably) at Jungfrau and check out the sights and the famous gay dance/theme/sex? club in Zurich, the gay capital of Switzerland. Especially since the days are short and the weather can be ball-shrinkingly frigid... Zurich is around a freezing -3 c to 5 c end December while Jungfrau is a mind numbing -15 c to -5 c.

Which makes you wonder how they go clubbing or for those themed gay parties where I hear the dress code is rigidly enforced... some of which involving little more than strips of leather and rubber bits with shoes and/or caps. The kind of attire which would probably cause your average parent to hyper-ventilate and suffer a heart attack. I dunno. Come to the club all dressed in their leather bits with only a huge winter coat and risk severe frostbite to their netherbits? Though perhaps with the amount of blood in their netherbits, it's the last body part to suffer from frostbite. It's interesting.

So I'll definitely be checking out Rage though it is not without some trepidation. After all, the well documented wild 'parties' are certainly not something you'll ever see or experience in the local gay clubs. And it's not even a sex club... but apparently it's accepted and almost expected for club goers to shed pieces of their clothing if not all when clubbing. And no, I will be giving Sector C (the themed gay dance floor) within Rage a miss. Not at the expense of my netherbits.

While I was telling a friend it would be nice to have someone come along for the trip even if only to help alleviate the substantial accommodation charges and to help you take photos (of yourself damnit). But you make do with what you have I guess. And this is one trip I am looking forward to, even though I'm going to be positively broke after this.

Now will anyone be in Switzerland from 26 December to 3 January 2009? Drop me a line if you are! Of course it'd help if you're cute, gay and can speak english. Though the last is optional I guess, love (or lust rather) transcends all languages. ^^ And if you're swiss and all of the above, you can even have half of my tiny cozy single bed for free. Hur hur.



N/B: I just checked. The flight package I booked at Zuji.com is no longer available. That so justifies my paying $2139 for a return ticket to Zurich on 17 hours flights! Wooohoo Jet lag here I come.

Back to Reality.

5 days later and it's back to sobering reality, the mundane hustle and bustle of hectic life, of deadlines to meet and affidavits to rush. Back to the wearisome rat race but the one that brings in the bacon, pays the bills and lets one go for such blissful escapades temporal though it may be.

Bangkok certainly lives up to its reputation of cheap and good. The shopping, especially if one is a hard nosed bargain hunter, is good, the food, even better. Where else can you have a complete meal of roast duck, rice, veggies and a drink for 50 bhat (slightly over $2)? And the sheer variety of food and snacks, all of which were ridiculously cheap by local (Singapore) standards, available at the multitude of food stores lining the road proved to be a culinary temptation i was unable to resist.

But short of a brief stomachache on Sunday (which I attribute to the glorious phad thai, tasty but oily with bits of what I took to be char siew but later realised to my abject horror was hardened fat of some sort) and perhaps a few extra kilos, I emerged unscathed from the relentless culinary expedition. Which in a way I guess, is rather surprising, given the stuff I ate. Bugs were however still a big no no.

On the limo ride back to the airport, the sky was overcast, clouds looming omniously, I fancied a hint of rain in the air just before stepping in. Similar to when I first arrived. And that fleeting sense of Deja Vu, that all good things must come to an end just like this short reprieve. Bangkok was good and I shall be back someday. Soon.



First day - on the way from the airport.



The Room- better than I expected.



Where I had most of my Breakfast 'in bed'.



One of the few road side snacks I remembered to take a shot of before demolishing. This one was some grilled spareribs with rice. I just did an awful lot of pointing.



Another lovely tidbit, they were selling this at Siam Paragon, some crisp pancake with doughy batter and corn in the middle. It's not like the crip pancake with cream and coconut. Whatever it was,it was great.



Dick's Cafe. An oasis in the hustle and bustle of neon lights.



Dinner at the still very Decent Fuji Restaurant. Negitoro (chopped up fatty tuna)don, lightly grilled fatty salmon (which was damn good) and some enoki with pork rolls. All for 420 bhat inclusive of green tea. $17 bucks for a decent jap meal like that in a restaurant. Not something you'll ever find here.



On the way back.



Heading back to Singapore. Sun setting over the fluffy cloudscape.

888 in Bangkok.

Today was eventful. Eventful in the sense that it largely involved a concerted shopping blitz of an hour, another couple of hours just strolling round the humongous food section at Siam Paragon, buying various tidbits before settling on what turned out to be disappointingly average Japanese lunch. The delightfully crafted cakes from Visage Patissere more than made up for it though.



Bogged down with the buys and the very perishable cakes, I decided to give MBK a miss for today, which meant the latter half of the afternoon was spent inspecting the buys, demolishing the cakes cum tidbits while surfing the net. In short, a leisurely lazy friday, a luxury that is now sorely missed and all the more cherished. And the best thing, is everything's OTOT, no need to have to accommodate another's idea of a holiday (which we all know varies greatly for different people) and certainly no need to compromise on yours.



To cut to the chase, because it is 3am and I'm waiting for my hair to dry, after an excellent 'normal' traditional Thai massage (which incidentally always involves an awful amount of creaking and body twisting), I went off for my first sojourn at Boy Town after an equally blah dinner at a Thai franchise chain.

Crossing the street is always a hazardous affair, traffic lights (of the pedestrian variety) seem to be relatively rare at Surawong and getting over unscathed to the next side involves a finely timed dash that the most brazen ah ma at ang mo kio would usually not hazard.

So it was when I saw a group of youngsters, either from Singapore or Malaysia from the accent of their Chinese, crossing the road, I followed suit. Besides they certainly looked like they were checking Boys Town out and would serve as a useful distraction from the touting and physical assaults that invariably follows once you step into the zone.

True enough, they were set upon once they stepped in, gawking about at the neon signs and various sights. The touts and doormen closed in for the kill, snapping off their rapid machine gun fire accented chinese, cajoling and pulling various members of the group in different directions. They didn't even last me past the third bar whereupon some hapless sod let himself get dragged into some bar and a panicky member of the group yelled in alarm that so and so had gone into XX bar. And they were led like lambs to the slaughter.

Because the bar I had in mind was still some distance down the street, I had to go through the gauntlet of cajoling, insistent tugging at the arms, sometimes in two different directions and the odd pinch on the butt or nipple. Still I managed to reach Dick's cafe, an oasis in the desert and just opposite Dream Boys, a little tender perhaps but none the worse for the wear.

The cafes are like your glass enclosures in the zoo, you get to observe the action from the relative security of the cafe replete with a cozy ambiance as the entire cafe faces the street but at the same time you get to see others have their turn at being hassled.

Dick's Cafe was nice, dimly lit with a mixed clientele that included Asians and your western men with the smattering of Thai boys. It's always interesting to observe how the other parties interact, something I did while sipping the pleasantly piquant Earl Grey.

Time to end here, off to bed and breakfast at 1.00pm. I love this place where else can you have breakfast 24 hours a day. Perfect for slobs like me.

The Break - Sawadee Krup

So much for the out by office at 6pm plan. The day before the break and just rushing to clear enough work so that I can go for the break without having to worry about everything erupting in my absence meant an extremely hectic Wednesday replete with a drama mama hearing at court with that ridiculously unreasonable woman who wanted free work. Thankfully we're officially rid of her.

Leaving at an otherwise decent 8-ish required hours of vein throbbing non-stop work. Which still leaves me with an unpacked bag, unprinted plane tickets and other tedious but necessary admin work to undertake before one flies off anywhere. I never liked having to pack my bag for a trip. Some people find it exciting, like it builds whatever unseen excitement adding momentum to the thrill and exhilaration of just going on a ho li ho li day.

I find it a tedious chore. I'm the kind of person who wishes my bag just magically gets automatically backed and all that boring admin stuff is all done and prepared for. All one needs to do is get on the cab, check in and get on the plane viola. Which probably explains why I'm here blogging instead of packing my bag as I should be doing.

I usually get around to it eventually, sometime around the witching hour, ponder what the hell I should put in. Invariably end up packing too much, throw out some stuff and by the time I'm done it's like 3 or 4am in the morning. It's a bloody affliction. Close friends and others often attribute this sloppiness to the inability to decide just what to bring. "Bring the whole cupboard la." they say. Which is besides the point.

I don't need variety, I'm probably just factoring in what happens if I suddenly get unexpectedly drenched for some unforeseen reason or a wardrobe malfunction occurs and a particular piece starts disintegrating. Such as when one goes clubbing and a happy/sad/mad drunk comes along and mistakes your Zara Tee for a rag and lets you know so in no uncertain terms.

But all that is probably an excuse to cover the perennial affliction, I just fucking hate to pack. And the ironic thing is despite all the hours spent on that chore, all the plodding from the bag to do some unrelated activity back to the bag again, I almost always end up not bringing something I wanted to bring. Some like toothpaste and lube are easily replaceable, others like the comfy pair of slippers from Raffles, less so. Or perhaps it is isn't so ironic after all given the modus operandi of packing and the effort put in.

I shall get down to packing, in an hour or so. People always ask me why I'm returning to Bangkok after just having gone 2 months ago. Other than the very obvious reason that the last trip was an utter disaster and total bore, the more mundane reason being I need to do some shopping for work wear and shoes in particular. Out of the three pairs of shoes, one went from black to brown, the other's peeling and the third is well still normal for now.

I did contemplate Bali but I wasn't in a spa mood, the shopping ain't half as good and I think I think when I finally decided on going back to Bangkok, that vicious part of me did it out of spite. Just to prove to myself that a trip without him would be a whole lot more enjoyable. Childish I know (and here I am counselling angsty men and women to think about "the welfare of the children and work together as parents even if your role has husband and wife is over" Good lord I can write a damn aunt aggy column soon.) but still I don't doubt this trip would definitely be a lot more fun.

It's hard to have a worse trip than rooming with a erstwhile lover who pretends his way of caring, which happens to include informing one about his escapades in bed with a pot bellied colleague, is the best and you're better off sharing a room with a total stranger (whom you can at least start with on a clean slate). Anyway, if you ever think of rooming with an ex like I did, please go shoot yourself or spend that money on toto or 4d or something.

There is something about Bangkok which makes people believe the worst. From remarks like " Aiya go Bangkok again do what ah? See Tiger is it?" to the mother's more blatant " Cannot go those red light district and find gers you know? Cannot do anything stupid later get Aids." while I was having dinner. Which damn near made the noodles exit from the wrong orfice.

I should have just told her I'm going to all the big agogo bars and hire all the boys I fancy and have a personal harem with free for all orgy at patpong just to see her reaction. But the fallout thereafter would be too much hassle cause trust me when I say she'll take it hook line and sinker.

And you get people like my seccie who went, you going to that place you were telling me (Chatuchak market)? Chatupong? Flustered as I was rushing a Defence I couldn't help laughing. Silly woman.

I won't deny that I'll check 'Boys Town' again, this time without a dead fish of a chaperone and in particular probably that gay club we walked by, contemplated going to and ended up rotting at the room, staring at the TV instead. I'll probably pass on the flesh merchandise parade. Nice to see, nice to touch but like the village bicycle, everyone's rode it. Though in this case, it's more like the City bike with cosmopolitan passengers.

Remember to read the reports, you have one day to prepare and file the affidavits when you return, my affable seccie went before telling me to have a good trip. It'll go somewhere in my luggage but I doubt I'll do more than give it a cursory glance. Time to unwind, relax and recharge. Preferably with a couple of cute guys on hand but purely purely optional. ^^

Moving on

The short reprieve at Bangkok is nearly at an end and I must admit it has been an eye-opener. In more ways than one. And I'm not just talking about staying near the flashy but sleazy Patpong district, with the glitzy neon lights, the pushy mamasans or hustlers who go "tiger show tiger show?" (it was only a day later that I realised they meant Thai Girls) and clutch one's arm insistently while attempting to divert one to the nearest bar/show/club.

Nor simply about the massage parlors or agogo bars (naturally the boy bars were a lot more appealing to yours truly), where boys were paraded on stage like bits of merchandise and the shows ran the full gamut from downright explicit displays that leave nothing to the imagination to pseudo-street art (think hip hop with vigorous hip thrusting and in various stages of undress) to vulgar comedy. All in all a different side of Bangkok from the usual sanitized pig out and shop till you drop routine

The trip with the Ex was on hindsight not a very good nor smart idea. But it was decided some time ago and it was still a break. I won't deny that we, and I in particular (though he did appear to agree then), envisaged that it wouldn't be a wholly innocuous trip. There was still that tension and the unspoken understanding that anything could happen and it was to be a see-how-it goes kind of affair.

It was strange, that artificial veneer of normality, of flatly denied tension in the name of fate and choice, of solo activities that saw the both of us doing what we wanted, when we wanted. It was almost like we were two strangers sharing the same hotel room, the same bed. And if anything this trip has made it crystal clear that this is the end, the page has turned on this particular chapter of our lives and any remaining stray feelings brutally extinguished.

More things came up about his ONS, the current version a far cry from the much milder toned down one he proffered earlier. His reasons for doing so, the tenderness of the other person etc. Whatever. As he said, he made his choice the moment he had his ONS or MNS rather.

And yes the one thing I'm thankful for this trip in spite of all the strange, awkward moments, is the brutal finality with which its allowed me to move on.

And with that I dedicate this last song to you, no need to discover the truth behind your eyes, no need to struggle to leave the past behind, for sooner or later, you'll be the last thing on my mind. Without a doubt.

The Alan Parsons Project - Sooner or Later

Oh what a price we pay
For the things we say
And the closer I get to you
The further you move away

All the lies we tell
In the games we play
And the longer I think it over
The harder it is to stay

Sooner or later I'll be free
To leave the past behind
Sooner or later you're gonna be
The last thing on my mind
Little by little I'm finding out
The truth behind your eyes
Maybe if I don't show
I thought you might like to know
You're gonna be the last thing on my mind

You didn't want to know
I could have told you so
But the moment I think it's over
The further there is to go
Just a little word
Such an easy way
But the longer I think about it
The harder it is to say

Sooner or later I'll be free
To leave the past behind
Sooner or later you're gonna be
The last thing on my mind
Little by little I'm finding out
The truth behind your eyes
Maybe if I don't show
I thought you might like to know
You're gonna be the last thing on my mind