A new job, apricot scones and used t-shirts

I haven't posted in a while. There wasn't a whole lot to say. I felt like I'd written more than enough about the coffee I was drinking or the ladyboys down at the beer garden. I desperately needed some new material as my routine was getting old. The embers of this blog were on the verge of extinguishing themselves, but all of a sudden a gust of wind picked up and sparked a flame. There's too much in my head at the moment to not set some of it free. Throw it into the wind whether it's interesting or not.

First news to report, I am working again! I just wrapped up my first full week and I have one more week in a two-week trial. After that, I'm on a three-month trial and then if we both like each other we'll officially be in a relationship. It's essentially a Monday-Friday 8-5 desk job only it's Sunday-Thursday and 2-midnight, which is preferable since I hate working mornings. I can both go out and sleep in every day if I so please.  I won't give any details other than to say I'm sitting at a desk staring at a computer in a pretty relaxed work environment surrounded by pretty cool people. It's nice to be learning something new although my hemorrhoid isn't particularly happy.

Enough about that. It's my Saturday and I'm still lounging around the house at nearly 5pm. I did go out and got jacked up on coffee and relished in the delight of consuming a moist pumpkin muffin. Highly recommended. It's overcast now and nearly time to go for a run. It'll be the first time in nearly a week I've been able to get out and jog around the park and along the riverside. Running around the park past men shuttlecocking, women fast-walking, military police lounging, ducking under trees, across the street into the next park, past the Royal Palace and onto the riverside past women aerobicizing, teenagers footballing, babies waddling, hookers eyeballing and street kids sniffing glue. Strangely, I'm excited about that.

Today is now Monday. Two days have slipped by and I hardly noticed. It is day two of a planned three-day protest by the CNRP, the opposition party that lost July's disputed election. Reminiscent of how Al Gore "lost" the election way back in 2000, but with perhaps even more voting irregularities. We'll probably never know the extent of it. I was thinking of checking the progress of the demonstration, but opted instead for a coffee and an apricot scone at Java Cafe across the park from my house. A wise choice. I can go get caught up in traffic later if the idea sounds appealing. Considering I spent 45 minutes yesterday detouring around roadblocks covered in razor wire when I was only five minutes from my house, I'll probably pass. I got enough vitamin D to last a few days.

I started studying French a couple weeks ago. I don't know why, perhaps for lack of anything else to do. I noticed a lot of expats are French or speak French so I decided to try to finish at least level 1 on Rosetta Stone. At least be able to count to ten and understand how to pronounce it when I read it. I'd prefer to continue my Vietnamese or Indonesian studies, but both were unable for "free" download. And to my dismay they haven't started offering Khmer. So, it'll be French for now until I tire of trying to speak like an asshole and then I may try Mandarin or Japanese or German. Yeah, yeah, I'll probably never open the application again.

I also started collecting t-shirts. It didn't reach collection status until recently when I realized it was getting out of hand. But how can you resist when you see a cool t-shirt for only 50 cents? I can't. If I change my mind I can use it as a dust rag, a floor mat or give it to my neighbor. When I moved to Phnom Penh from Siem Reap six months ago I only had a dozen shirts. The secondhand clothes market in Siem Reap was fairly limited. Phnom Penh, on the other hand, has numerous locations for acquiring secondhand shirts sporting designs you can be fairly certain nobody else is going to be wearing. I think they import by the kilo from their northern Asian neighbors including China, Japan, Korea and Taiwan.

First, I went to Central Market, which has a secondhand clothing area and the few vendors that sold t-shirts offered them for around $2.50, which was reasonable, but on par or slightly more expensive than thrift shops back home. They recently got a little greedy and started asking $3. Outrageous. The BKK Market was more off the beaten track and was almost all secondhand clothing. A great find, but only a couple t-shirt vendors. Here, they were only a dollar. Any of the numerous tailors onsite could alter them to fit in mere minutes. That would cost another 50 cents. A month ago, I found a new spot. A street near the riverside where multiple vendors offer secondhand wares. Only 50 cents, the true price of secondhand t-shirts! I find it pretty exciting and can't stop shopping. I have about 60 shirts now.

A couple assholes in business attire just walked in. Might be nice guys, but I can't help but judge people. Nice tie, guy. Besides, I didn't like the way he looked at me. Don't be jealous I'm wearing a comfy pair of shorts and a t-shirt. I'm just agitated. Not sleeping well. Never sleeping well. I also don't like what they've done to this cafe. They changed from perhaps the coziest environment to what looks like dining room furniture. Like I should be sipping tea at high noon. Fuck that. I just realized there are twelve men in this room. That's part of the problem. Way too much testosterone. Not a single woman working here - I can't handle this vibe.

I just extended my visa for another six months. Never know when this marriage will end. I do enjoy living in Phnom Penh, but the honeymoon has certainly come and gone. I no longer feel like spontaneously pumping my fists as I run around the park. I love my food choices, I like my apartment, it feels like I could be living anywhere sometimes. In Vietnam, I always felt like I was living in Vietnam. There was no escaping it. That's why I came to Cambodia so many times on holiday. To get away. Vietnam certainly has its appeal, but so does this place. The country not the cafe.

I know I was more or less recently on a twenty-month holiday, but after a week and a half of work I sort of feel trapped again. It is so hard to commit to anything! You mean I have to work six months before I can take two weeks off? I have to work a year before I'm considered for a raise? Don't get me wrong, it's great to be doing something and learning something new, but it's hard to lose some of your freedom. Time ticks down quickly before I have to be back at work straining my eyes under the fluorescents shooing away mosquitoes. I have a sudden yearning to be back in Nepal trekking the Annapurna Circuit or driving a Royal Enfield through the mountain passes to Ladakh in northwestern India.

It'll happen. It's just a matter of when. That or I'll impregnate some bargirl and live happily ever after. There are no other options. I'll support her and our crack baby until the instinct to flee is too overwhelming. No, I swear I'll treat her right. I'll buy her as many 50 cent t-shirts as her heart desires. I'll buy her dollar bubble teas and download all the movies she wants to see. I'll even let her have the good pillow. Of course, I'll go buy a better one. I'll get her enrolled in English classes and spy through the small window in the door to make sure her foreign teacher isn't trying to play peek-a-boob. You can never trust an English teacher.

Well, it's the middle of September already. We've got a month and a half to Movember, but I've decided to get a head start. I need it. I've only got a week and half's worth of goatee and it's still pretty awkward looking, but I'll try to grin and bear it. I don't want to look like a pedophile too soon otherwise I'd shave the chin. I'll wait until the mustache looks a bit more "manly" before I do that. Last week, a girl at the bar pointed at my face and said "clean!" Three more months, I said. She "voiced" her displeasure with a disapproving facial gesture. I know, I know, I thought. Oh well, there are too many options here anyway. Might as well make things slightly more challenging.