The Pursuit of Pleasure

Monday: Arrange a place to send my dog and cat while I am away.
Tuesday: Log on to my account at couchsurfing dot com, spend two hours going through hundreds of profiles until I  find one with a nice photo of a trustworthy-looking guy.  Send out a couch request. Spend the afternoon in a cyberspace meet-and-greet until I've finalized arrangements for that couch request. Slap my self on the back for finding a place to sleep when I land at 2 am on the weekend in Bangkok's heat and partying sweat.
Wednesday: Budgetize.  Transportation needs, food options, sites to see, things to do, places to sleep, booze to consume. Add an additional 20 US dollars a day to that budget.
Thursday: Pack 16 days into a small schoolbag I bought yesterday. Make sure I bring 16 pairs of clean underwear, a handful of bras, 5 tanks, 2 tshirts, 3 shorts, one skirt, and one dress rolled up and packed away in ziplock bags.
Friday: Update my iPhone. Drop my dog off at the sitter. Have one last hoorah!
Saturday: Wait for hours between airports because I opted for cheap over efficient. Fly to Teipei. Then to Bangkok.

Na's pursuit of pleasure.

Land in Bangkok. Alone. Wonder where to go and how to occupy my time without feeling like I'm already wasting time and missing out on everything.
Consult the list of things I thought I wanted to do/see, realize suddenly that I just want a mojito and a cigar, and start doodling shapes and hearts on that list instead.

Try not to do everything because I've read it in travel broshures and websites.  (That picture already exists, do I really need the exact same duplicate standing from the exact same push of ocean?)

Don't visit any temples, museums, or palaces (except for the ones in Angkor) because I've seen them all before in their many variations and locales.  (Remark about how I don't believe in god to begin with.)

Realize that the pleasure I'm  searching for has nothing to do with stretches of white sandy beaches and sky blue waves surrounded by a haven of rocks and cliffs untouched by throngs of tourists.

Become aware that it also isnt the kind of pleasure found on a strip of road with all the bars, dancefloors, and eateries you can imagine filled with people from all over the world.(Thats every Saturday night in Itaewon.)


Have no expectations. Pursue fucking nothing. Do absolutely anything.  Try to spend the 60 minutes right before landing to clear anything Ive ever read, heard, or seen about Thailand.  Go with the flow.

The Hunger

What does it mean when the best part of an already amazing five-day long weekend was biting down into a hot, oily, juicy sandwich stuffed to the brink with thick slices of salami and pepperoni, smothered in melted mozzarella cheese and sprinked with sliced black olives and peppers. 
*
I had a Ratatouille moment.  Things faded away, colours started swirling and beautiful silence drowned my ears.  All I heard were the salty meats staking hold in my mouth, all I saw was the melted strings of cheese pulling between my lips and the bread, and all I tasted was complete, absolute, incandescent happiness.  My senses all merged and swooped, did backflips and somersauts, they didnt know what the fuck was going on.
*
I was on a quasi-date and the gentleman across from me was in the middle of some rant, or anecdote, or maybe it was a tirade, but I couldnt register any sound coming from his mouth.  Both of my hands were greased in a nice covering of meaty and cheesy oil and when I looked up to see his mouth flapping, we locked eyes.  And just like that, I fell out of my Ratatouille moment as sharply and suddenly as the snap from a rubber band.  I was able to function again.  My eyes focused instanly like the twist of a microscope and my ears turned to maximum volume. I was transported back.

After that sandwich, I havent quite been full again.