Aerosmith, overeating and an uncontrollably twitching tricep

Aerosmith's Don't Want To Miss A Thing is playing overhead. Quick flashback to somewhere in the 90s. I can't place it. Ah, late 90s. Thanks Google. I'm trying to calm down and cool off in this cafe on Monivong Blvd. Come join me in silence preferably and watch the world go round. Maybe next time. My left tricep is twitching uncontrollably. Has been for the past couple of days. Has a heartbeat of its own. Word of the day is fasciculation — a brief, spontaneous contraction affecting a small number of muscle fibers, often causing a flicker of movement under the skin. It's not really brief though, unfortunately.

Finishing off the rest of my bubble tea embarrassingly trying to suck up the last of the tapioca pearls who are playing hard to get among the enormous chunks of ice. I definitely don't want anyone taking my picture with my lips wrapped around a fat straw puckering desperately for one last "ball" to shoot up and hit me in the back of the throat. It must be done nonchalantly. Act as though you don't really care if you get to chew on one more belly-bloating ball of tapioca as you violently stab the straw into hard-to-reach corners of your glass hoping not to look ridiculous while noisly slurping up milk that is no longer there. I shouldn't be drinking cow pus anyway — as I clear my throat. Weak moment.

A white guy just walked by outside sans shirt flaunting stuff he didn't even have. Relatively young guy. It's pretty hot, but the city isn't really the proper place to get a suntan. There are some weird mofos in Cambodia. I'm not talking about the locals. Most of them can be found in or around Golden Sorya Mall on any given night imbibing jug upon jug of Angkor draft, but can also be found perusing the aisle of the local Pencil supermarket or stumbling down street 136 near the riverside. The last stop for some of these folks. The train doesn't go any further. To the detriment of Cambodia, however they do offer some entertainment value. That being said, there are also some very cool folks here.

Don't Want To Miss A Thing is playing again. I'd put in the earbuds, but I've overplayed my own music lately. Trying to hear my own heartbeat, my exhalations and the flicker in my tricep. Fortunately the music is not overbearing and there is a cacophony of other noises from the chatter of employees and other patrons, the opening and closing of refrigerated display cases, the clattering of utensils and the barely audible rumble of motorists outside. I used to like Aerosmith back in the day. Janie's Got A Gun got me into music back in junior high school. Damn, that was a long time ago.

Back to the present. Don't want to relive the past. Just got distracted by a Vietnam Cupid email. The dating site that will not go away. I suppose it's a welcome distraction as I only have to  deactivate or delete my account. Or just simply unsubscribe. Or mark the sender's email address as "junk." But no, I can't do that. I like the email and seeing if any of the eight photos will entice me enough to click through to their profile. Usually there's at least one. I still haven't forgotten, from various dates long ago, that pictures can be very deceiving. Especially just headshots and those using some kind of filter. I forgot my rule of "always using the webcam" before meeting in person on several occasions. 

It's time to make a break for it. Head home with a walnut baguette so I can do precisely what I don't need to do — eat more food! What else is there to do when you're as unproductive as a 100MB Zip Disk hidden away in someone's shoebox in 2014? You have to pass the time somehow. The only problem is sometimes, with nothing to do and nowhere to go, eating becomes a bit obsessive. For me anyway. I haven't eaten much today, but I probably don't need the aforementioned baguette laden with carmelized onions, bell peppers and garlic, a couple fried eggs, stuffed with sprouts and wetted with an ample dousing of both soy and a sweet spring roll sauce.

I went out last night with the intention of hearing some live music. But first, I needed to eat. That much had been decided. Before I left, I had a couple Jager bombs to kickstart the party. It wasn't Red Bull, but something similar and only a little to tame down the herbal flavor. I went down to Street 51 at about 9:30pm, but Katy Peri's Pizza had yet to open. What to do now? I strolled into Sorya Golden Mall and had a couple drafts at the beer garden. After some brief chit chat with a waitress and another customer I went back to visit Katy Peri. Som Naang was at the oven and as a good businessman seemed pleased to see me. I ordered a small "magherita" and a rum & coke. 

The rum & coke was strong and cheap, as usual. The pizza came out insanely fast, which led me to believe it was intended for someone else, but I was the beneficiary and could not complain. It was insanely good. I alternated the Tabasco with every other slice to not overburden my tongue while eating at a brisk pace so I could finish before the deaf kid came back to mooch for a slice. Just in time. I lingered a little to let the rum kick in and ponder my next move. I soon found myself at a riverside bar ordering another rum & coke before I returned home (alone) and devoured a heaping bowl of granola. Barely resisting the urge to pour a second bowl, I brushed my teeth, hopped into bed and tooted, as my nephews say, all the way until morning.

I've been eating a lot more than normal lately. And going to the gym more. And feeling like the meathead I didn't think I was back in the day I was one. That was a long time ago. It's because I have time — too much of it. I want to be doing something, but what? That is the eternal question that pesters me wherever I go and gnaws at my soul. Just spell it out for me already. I know now that it is not going to fall out of the sky and land in my lap like I've always wanted. It's hard to be proactive when you're not sure what stones to start turning over. And when you're not a particularly take-charge kind of guy. I haven't given up and I won't, but for now I'll settle for just being a productive member of society. Even if that means feeling like a robot and selling my soul, just a little. Tired of feeling unproductive. I feel guilty, but also a little jealous as I watch others toil in the hot sun. At least they're doing something. At least doing something will stave off the insanity — for now. 

Killing time at Suvarnabhumi

I planned a three-night stay in Bangkok after my surprise holiday in San Francisco. I didn’t know about the massive protest to shutdown the city at that time. As it turns out, Thailand’s opposition party supporters planned a big one on the day I was due to arrive. Being on the airplane for 20 hours before the start of the protest I was unable to see how it was mounting and if tensions were flaring.

Following this guy covering the state of affairs online helped give me insight into the situation. It was unclear what was going to happen. The sky train and the airports would be left open, which was nice, but how about the rest of the city? Could it really last 5-20 days? I was due to arrive around midnight. After immigration and baggage claim it would be closer to 12:30am. Would the trains be open? Would be the protests still be going on? Could I get a taxi?

Reading tweets like this one changed my mind:

Richard Barrow ‏‪@RichardBarrow                                                                  13 Jan

Tourists are advised NOT to go anywhere near the new rally sites in ‪#Bangkok. Especially late at night. Use common sense & you’ll be fine.

The guesthouse I was going to stay at was directly opposite a rally site. They never confirmed my request for a reservation. Fuck it, I didn’t need a vacation after a vacation. I checked Cambodia Angkor Air’s website. A flight out the next day before taxes was only 1100 baht! That’s about $30. Of course, with taxes, it was 3000 baht, but still a great fare booked two days before departure. Avoid the hassle entirely I thought, l was ready to get back to Phnom Penh and resume life where I left it. No need to risk getting shot just for the possibility of some cool pics and mango with sticky rice.

I booked the ticket thirty minutes prior to departing for San Francisco International. Now as I wait at Bangkok’s Suvarnabhumi at 3:15am I wish I had booked a cheap room a train stop from the airport. A bed, wifi, shower, being able to sleep in until noon, street food and showing up and flying away is far superior to enduring a night at the airport. The thing is, there was still some uncertainty as to where the protests would be and how long they’d last thus making everywhere potentially unsafe.

I’m not the only one calling the airport home tonight. Two local dudes sleep on mats to my right under camouflage tarps imprinted with US ARMY. And my fellow tourists are inconsiderately sprawled out on the airport’s chairs, generally three chairs per body or sit slumped in one if they were unfortunate to arrive late to stake their claim. I won’t sleep because I don’t want to lose anything in my possession.

The airport has free wifi, but apparently it’s only in the departure lounge. I guess that prevents people from lounging in the arrivals area. I’d go to the departure lounge, but I can’t check in my bag and therefore can’t go through security, as my flight isn’t for another 12 hours. The woman at the information desk told me they had free wifi at the coffee shops on the next level so I went back upstairs and sat down to ponder my options. I didn’t want to go to Starbucks, but that girl gave me eyes that would be hard to refuse walking by a second time. I didn’t really care, but welcomed a distraction and hated the fact that I couldn’t “man up” and just start talking to her.

I went in and ordered a coffee and found out after paying they didn’t even have wifi. $4 for a coffee I didn’t even want at 1 in the morning. Oh well, I’ll go say hi. Conveniently sitting next to the napkins and all the extras you can shake into your overpriced coffee, I sat down and made a little small talk. Good from afar, but far from good. Apparently everyone was just on their phone or tablet pretending to be online, but really just playing Angry Birds. I asked her where she was headed as there was lack of anything else to do. Turns out she was waiting for her boyfriend from Korea who happened to show up at the moment of my query. That ended the conversation and I was sitting alone with a coffee I didn’t really want and no wifi.

I laughed at my situation and got up to leave after sufficient time had passed after she left with her boyfriend. Wandering around with my oversized duffel bag repeatedly falling off my shoulder I discovered that wifi upstairs at the business center was $4 for 20 minutes. Not a good deal. I went back downstairs and found it was free at Coffee Bean and Tea Leaf as long as you spent 300 baht ($10). Not a good deal. Eventually I settled on a nearby café and ordered some pad thai I didn’t want.

They eventually got the wifi working after resetting the router? Modem? Whatever was behind the staff door. Again, it seemed, everyone was just pretending to be online. My vegetarian pad thai came and vaguely reeked of fish sauce. The waitress assured me otherwise. After just thirty minutes of perusing Facebook and ascertaining the protest situation, I was presented with the bill. What? Oh, we close at 2am. Thanks. I was allowed to stay so I could finish my fish sauce and peruse a little longer, which was only until I had cleaned my plate and paid my bill and then someone flipped the switch.

Oh well. Now what? People did not look happy at 2:30am. The cleaning lady barked at me as I attempted to enter the restroom. Oh, does that trash can in the middle of the walkway mean it’s closed? No shit, really? Just trying to sneak into a stall to drain my main vein before she noticed to no avail. I also needed to brush my teeth, dab on some deodorant and make it look like I was clean after 20 hours of flights, overeating and being in and out of consciousness.

I eventually took care of business after lugging my bag to the next available restroom. I proceeded upstairs looking for a place to sit, down the entire length of the corridor, passing row upon row of chairs that appeared to have vacancies until upon closer inspection were occupied by slumbering tourists. The guy next to me just farted. Either that or someone has a really loud zipper. I think I’d worry about that if I were to fall asleep. That and waking up with an erection. I’ll face my fears one day.

The girl down the way is clipping her fingernails. Nails probably flying everywhere. Not attractive. My mind is wandering. Nothing to do, but ramble on and think about sex. I want to make eye contact with someone and understand everything without actually saying anything. Oh you're thinking about sex too? Let’s fuck. And we’d proceed to the nearest restroom. Instead of both veering in opposite directions, one would follow the other after receiving the green light. Just like the movies. And then some fun in the stall. Exciting. I’m that guy right now, looking around to see if there are any takers. Nope.

4’oclock now. Fuuuuuuuuuuck. Would be so nice right now to be under the covers farting myself to sleep. Or you know, being asleep enough where it actually feels like you’re spooning that special someone without the snoring, hair in your face, pins and needles in that arm you don’t know what to do with or someone stealing the sheets. 34% battery remaining. Thank goodness for that, I’m running out of things to say.