over & out

I feel like Forrest Gump sometimes… ending up in all these cool happenings without having the slightest clue how. How’d I end up in Chiang Mai??? It was only 2 months ago when I moved out of my beloved Brooklyn home, left my beloved kitties, divorced my beloved Audrey to float off into the unknown. As hard as it was, it must be one of my best decisions ever.

2 months. Of course it doesn’t feel like it. To most people 2 months is nothing at all, but to me those 2 months have impacted my life forever. Of course time has flown. And of course I’ve changed in ways that probably won’t become clear to me until after I’m gone. Or have I? I always knew I could do it—trade in a large chunk of my creature comforts so I could live the simple(r) life, adapt to new surroundings, bond with new people. That was the easy part. Honestly.

A new girl started this week at the volunteer house & I couldn’t help but envy her to be at the beginning of her own Chiang Mai experience. On my last night she asked us older volunteers what it is that we’ll miss most about the place. Maybe the anonymity, which translates into the freedom to do whatever & say whatever I want to without having to conform to any previous version of myself. Of course I’ll miss the ultra-chillaxed lifestyle. There are no schedules, & I often just act on impulse. If I want to go into work late, I do. If I want to go to the pool instead that day, I do, or the bar or the yoga studio or the market. I loved having new experiences everyday, because they always teach me a little more about myself. And everyday I would meet someone new, & every new acquaintance makes my world a little bit bigger. I’ll miss my crazy & loveable workmates, my wild housemates, all my new friends.

I will not miss the house’s menagerie of pests—the millions of ants, little lizards, flying things, the occasional mouse & the resident tu-ke (big gecko, or tuko in Filipino). OK maybe I will miss the tu-ke. He was green with pink polka-dots & shy so rarely ever seen, but we could hear him every half hour every night coughing out his name.

I had a goodbye shebang with the gayest gays that have ever gayed, i.e. my workmates. They took me out to dinner & gave me a bag & a Lanna (northern Thai) style jacket- super cool! Then each said a few nice things about how they'll remember me, in English, which was so so sweet because out of all of them, only 3 can speak semi-fluently; the others, not so much. We finished the night with-- of course-- gay bar hopping. Actually truth be told, they scammed me into going with them to a gay "erotic" show. Don't ask. & I won't go into further detail just yet, I am still recovering from the trauma.

Then goodbye to my housemates. I used to have insecurities about how I'm living my life, with no permanent home or job to speak of. & then I met all these girls who are more or less in the exact same position as I am, as different as we are as individuals. So for that, I am so grateful to have met them. And grateful that I never had to tackle this foreign city totally alone.

It was raining almost every day the week I left Chiang Mai. Maybe it was crying as it bid me goodbye, just as I did on my way to the airport. Saying goodbye yet again. I feel like I do it so often. But I'm glad I took the time out to come here, & I know how fortunate I was to have had this opportunity. I don’t think I would have fully appreciated all the city’s charms had I just been passing through & hadn’t spent an extended period there. But now I know, & I will miss it.

Now back into the unknown...

displaced

In pictures:

1) My bedroom dresser. The world map is marked with all the places I am hitting in the next few months to remind me why I am doing all this.

2) Housewarming gifts from all our partays. The tile says "Home Sweet Apartment"- so very New York City.

3) My fridge. I collect magnets from every place I go. The cats broke my porcelain magnet from Capri, but the Armani model lounging in a boat in Capri compensates well.

4) The daycare below me. In this last month of unemployment, I've been awoken every morning by the sound of little children singing the hokey pokey.

Today I packed it all up & shipped it out. My life yet again packed neatly (ok, harriedly) away in boxes. I've done it so many times before but somehow I never seem to get any better at it, & it's so draining & I swear I'll never do it again, but that's always a lie. And it only gets harder as I get older & accumulate more, because I thought that's what adults do- settle & nest. But when it comes time to relocate, I again curse my materialistic weakness for shoes & again consider just trashing it all in favor of a Zen existence unburdened by unnatural attachments to inanimate objects. My hands are mangled, my muscles are aching, my eyebags are glaring, & I have half a brain left. All I want to do is collapse onto my huge queen feather bed & curl up in the fetal position & whimper, but I can't, because now there is no huge queen feather bed.

I am exhausted. Exhausted exhausted exhausted.

And now to get ready for my going away party. Some things just can't be avoided. ;)