There are mosquitoes in my cranberry juice!

The fuckers at my biweekly omelet sandwich/mango shake restaurant tried to pull a fast one on me this morning. My sandwich came already prepared, which you think would be a benefit, rather than letting me slice the baguette, shake in the pepper, lay in the slices of cucumber, tomato and onion, cram in the oily slightly browned two egg omelet, squeeze in the chili sauce and cram it all in with the knife before cutting the rather-large-for-one-dollar sandwich in half with the chili-stained knife.

What was so fast about it you ask? Well, for one, assembling the beast of a sandwich had become a morning routine of sorts. Something I looked forward to. It took my mind off the flies circling overhead and the dirty cat on the floor waiting for an opportunity to take a bite when I looked away for a second. They also put mayonnaise on it, which I despise. Perhaps most importantly though, they reduced the egg content. Cramming in lettuce this time with all the regular fixings trying to hide the fact there was one less egg, I don't like that kind of business. Just raise the fucking price and keep it real rather than disguise it in order to fool the customer.  Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me. I shall not get fooled again.

Just to clarify, biweekly as stated above is meant to mean twice a week. Just checking Dictionary.com, it appears to have two definitions: 1. occurring every two weeks. and 2. occurring twice a week. How the fuck can that not possibly lead to confusion? Perhaps the difference between American and British English. Annoying, yes.

Ok, now that I've got that out of my system, I can relax. It was the fastest I've ever consumed the aforementioned rather-large-for-one-dollar sandwich probably because there was one less egg to masticate. The mango shake was rather delicious, but I slurped it up and requested the bill with my lips still suctioned to the straw. No tip for you! Now I'm sipping perhaps the best cup of coffee in Siem Reap at Central Cafe. The waitress asked with a quivering lip or a tear in her eye, I couldn't tell exactly what was wrong, if I wanted milk, which I didn't. I like her more for displaying such emotion even if she was trying her best to hide it. I hate to see people sad though.

My coffee is now cold, but it still tastes good. I reckon that's the sign of a good cup. Or maybe it's cause I put sugar in it. Yeah, that's probably more like it.

The last two movies I have watched, both over the span of the last 48 hours, contained the song It Never Rains in Southern California. Weird. They were Greenberg featuring Ben Stiller and Melancholia featuring Kiefer Sutherland amongst others. Both movies I will likely forget in due time and re-watch at a later date and say Oh fuck, not this agaaaaaaain! A bit odd that I don't remember hearing It Never Rains over the course of the two part Melancholia. Just happened to see it listed in the credits. I always watch the credits or fast forward through them just in case I miss something entertaining. In the end though, they are rarely worth watching, truth be told.

Getting back to this post nearly nearly seven hours after it was born. I've since watched another movie, this one entitled In a Better World and gone for a jog and now I'm drinking a tall glass of cranberry juice and eating peanuts at dusk listening to Once There Was a Hushpuppy from the Beasts of the Southern Wild soundtrack. You really should have a listen and maybe even watch the flick, but the score is the best thing about it. Ok, I'll stop promoting it now. But seriously, it makes me feel like I'm in love and I like that. Maybe that's why all the waitresses at this place look so pretty. I might order a second cranberry juice just in case I have a urinary tract infection.

Seriously, this music is so fucking good. I feel a bit impolite wearing my headphones in a public place, but I am sitting alone so fuck it. It is nice to hear the overhead tunes, the traffic below (because I'm not in it) and the chatter of others (from afar). Now I can just put the headphones around my neck and pretend I'm a DJ.

The mood lighting is now on. Triangle Bar is where it's at, for sure. Just nobody to enjoy the mood with. Where art thou my pretty waitress? I'm kidding, I'm not in the mood to babysit. Just make eyes and look away when they feel sufficiently uncomfortable. I can't decide between another cranberry juice or pack it in and go get a vanilla brownie ice cream before dinner. Why not? I think they say chunks of brownie in one's ice cream improves vision, don't they? And my vision is a little blurry at the moment. Like carrot juice, but better. Depends on your mood, I guess.

Oops, starting to see mosquitoes in the shadows. Fuck the cranberry juice! The pretty waitresses seem to be helping other customers anyway. Now what, another movie I suppose. As long as it doesn't contain It Never Rains in Southern California it'll be alright. An ice cream, dinner and a movie, alone I might add (no money, no honey) is an almost perfect trifecta. Ok, the mosquitoes are ravenous. I'm out!

The procrastinating Cookie Monster

The guy next to me sounds like the fight fixer in the Snatch. Kind of resembles him too although slightly less scary looking. But the voice alone is enough to turn heads. The woman across from me looks like the kidnapped Vietnamese child turned forced underaged prostitute in the film Holly. Weird how everyone starts to resemble someone if you watch enough movies. And lately, I've been watching a lot of them. Catching up I guess you could say. I call it procrastinating.

In the past week or so alone, I think I've watched fourteen movies. Some days just one and other days three. One in the morning prior to hitting the cafe, one in the late afternoon and one after dinner before bed. It's called killing time. I'm pretty good at that these days. That doesn't include the thirty something movies I've downloaded since I've been in Cambodia and other stack of borrowed dvds last month. Some recent titles include The Descendants, Liberal Arts, Moonrise Kingdom, The Dictator, Careless Love, Old Boy, Attack the Block, Albatross, Perfect Sense, Ruby Sparks, My Week with Marilyn, In the Land of Blood and Honey, Audition and Holly.

Now what to do? I've finished checking my junk mail, perusing Facebook and eating my snacks. This is boring. I should be thinking about what is next, the upcoming chapter, but I can't. I'm so lazy, unmotivated, unambitious and in general, so blah that I can barely move. Aside from getting up, sitting down, biking over here, biking over there and sitting in front of my laptop. I'm still waiting for that lightning bolt of inspiration to tell me what to do. In the meantime, I'm making a die to roll with destinations instead of numbers. Hanoi, Saigon, Phnom Penh, Siem Reap, Bangkok or return home? And if I land on the latter I'll do a best of five rolls...

My eye is a bit swollen. Perhaps another case of conjunctivitis? Hooray! Good thing I just touched it, hopefully spread it around a bit. Ok, no more complaining. I just got three new old t-shirts. The best kind, really. One had to be tailored for 75 cents, a slight price jump from the standard 50 cents. I was appalled originally, but surrendered without an argument because I was feeling weak. And well, he did a good job so I might return again in the future. I love finding cool secondhand clothes that fit, but if they don't, I love being able to make them fit for nearly nothing.

I'm just rambling now. I think the Bible group has returned. It's nearly time for me to make my exodus to the lower level. And then go get some lunch. I think tofu lok lak is on the menu today. However, the wait is typically atrocious even when I'm the only customer. Last time, I walked out on them. You take the order and you place the order. You don't go out on the street bullshitting with other customers trying to keep everyone happy and wanting to come back again. At some point, you have to keep your eyes on what is in front of you. Oh wait, I'm complaining again. I really have to work on that.

Time is ticking and another day is half over. I need to start ticking. I need a jumpstart or a shock from a defibrillator. Or maybe just a solid push from behind. Or a slap to the face. Maybe the pharmacy has what I need. Do you have any pills that give you drive? That inspire? That make you creative? That give you passion? That make you love? That illuminate the darkness? That make you want to be someone? To do something? No? Hmmm. Ok, thanks anyway. I'll keep looking. Maybe I'll find it in the tofu lok lak. It might be just around the corner. Just have to stop closing my eyes and turning off my brain. The never-ending story continues...

Climaxing by the river with a cup of joe

Enjoying a relatively quiet morning at Climax Coffee by the river. I had a coffee shake. I usually prefer to climax in the evening before bed, but these days I'll take it when I can get it. Even though I finished my shake a while ago, I'm still waiting to orgasm. Oh, come on! What else does the word climax imply? The fourth definition on dictionary.com simply states 'an orgasm' so I don't think my mind is too off track. It's an interesting name for a coffee shop, to say the least.

My moto is in the shop. I asked the guy in bungled Khmer to check everything. He said it would take four hours and cost five bucks. Four hours! Five bucks! Of course, that's not including the oil change, the new headlight or the price to fix the rear brake. But whatever it takes as I'm planning an excursion early in the new year and I'd prefer not to break down. After a year of zero income and an exorbitant amount of travel, I'm planning on starting 2013 with another little journey. And then, get serious. Yeah.

The plan, at the moment, is to take the moto to Phnom Penh, stay a couple nights and then head to Sihanoukville, the beach, stay for a few nights and then return to Siem Reap, stopping somewhere along the way. It's approximately 315 kilometers to Phnom Penh and an additional 230 kilometers to the beach. Of course, this journey is best done with friends, but nobody is ever free when I am and I can't wait forever. So, I think, but I'm not 100% committed, that I will leave early on the 2nd of January and meet some friends later that afternoon in Phnom Penh who will be traveling by minivan.

Not a perfect plan, but life ain't perfect. Can't wait forever and when I have time I have to jump at the opportunity. At least that's the way I look at it. Anyway, there are too many mosquitos in Climax Coffee. Perhaps that is their way of pushing out customers. Some turn the air conditioning on high, some look at you funny and others just let in the mosquitos. I must have killed a dozen mosquitos already today. Mostly with my electrified zapper, but most recently Karate Kid style. Not with chopsticks, but with a mechanical arm style grab. I, however, crushed the 'prize.'

Some random thoughts. Why do some people seem to like every single fucking comment on Facebook? That's annoying. Only like those that are original, witty or perhaps complimentary in nature. You can't just like anything. A clear example of brown-nosing. And then there are those people that post a status or a picture and like all of their posts. Clearly in a delusional world of their own. Liking your own stuff is warranted on occasion. Other than that, it's abusive and you should be banned from Facebook. Or your 'friends' should unfriend you. There should be rules for this.

At the gym this morning, otherwise known as the sauna by the crocodile farm, I had a pretty good workout. My shoulders seem to be hurting less than usual, perhaps thanks to some advice from a Khmer bodybuilder and the Japanese trainer. Most of the other guys, usually shirtless and ripped, I have found to be good people. Far less ego-inflated than the dudes frequenting the gyms back home. Of course there is still the occasional pud giving free, unwelcome advice such as correct abdominal technique coming from a guy with a flabby belly. Kind of like taking financial advice from a bum. Thanks, but fuck off.

It's time to urinate. I've been fending off the urge for nearly an hour now. Besides, it's getting hot in here and I'm not taking off all my clothes. And it's past twelve and I've yet to eat breakfast. So, as usual my stomach is leading the way to a place unknown, but not far away. Take care, until next time, thanks for reading, have a nice weekend and Happy New Year. 

Idiots on Skype in public places

Forgot my headphones this morning. Mistake. Now I'm forced to listen to this boner chatting away on Skype on the other side of the 'fishbowl' at Common Grounds. Shut the fuck up. Lack of consideration is perhaps the biggest problem I have with people outside of their physical appearance. Joking, sort of, but I'm working on that. The green tea is tasting a little funny this morning. I've tried adding some sugar and a little milk too, but nothing works. Who drinks green tea with milk anyway? Maybe it's cause I'm drinking hot tea while the air con is blasting cold air all over my business. A contradiction, kind of.

Lukewarm tea is some nasty shit. Hard to swallow. Kind of like eating bananas. At least that big ass chocolate chip cookie was delicious otherwise I'd be throwing a fit right now. I didn't even want the cookie, but they were out of cinnamon rolls. I'm trying to branch out these days. The Skyping moron in the corner continues babbling on about investing in this business and how he'll be in Singapore next week to talk in person. I don't want to know anyone's personal affairs, let alone how much he's investing and what degree of decision-making authority he will have.

This other guy on the far wall facing me is going about his business the way he should be. Quietly. He stares into his computer and is otherwise invisible. The guy in the middle of the room is less conspicuous wearing a tank top in such a falsely-cooled environment. He also keeps sniffing and is probably regretting his decision to wear such attire to the cafe this morning. The guy to my left is also quite quiet. I respect that. He gave a nod of acknowledgment as I sat down and that's it. Perfect. The lady to my right has pulled her table away from the others to such a degree she is practically demanding attention. For this, I disliked her immediately. She also seems to be rather angry and I am trying to avoid eye contact at all costs.

It's funny. I know when I'm judging like this, it's usually me who needs the attitude adjustment. I am out of whack, I've been out of sync with normalcy now for about a week. Can't eat anything without getting bloated, having stomach cramps and I generally feel like poo. Go figure since my plumbing is all jacked up. I actually have started feeling like I have a tumor in my colon as my digestive system has seemingly come to a grinding halt. Highly disturbing to think like this, but I can't help it cause my body is in such a funk. I'd like an ultrasound to prove myself wrong. Put myself at ease. And then maybe go on a fasting regimen to restore order. My body hates chaos and the inner turmoil is too much right now.

Back to the Skyping fuckbag. So, let me get this straight. We're expanding to Laos and Burma by 2016. And Malaysia and Singapore by 2017. Ok. Ok, fantastic. Can't handle it. Not because he's pretending to be somebody, but because we're forced to listen to him ramble on. Everyone else seems ok with it, but I keep looking around shifty eyed trying to get someone on my side. Someone who will stand up to this man and break his black-rimmed hipster glasses over his nose and shove them down this raspy throat. I just like peace and quiet. I can't help it. I come to a cafe to get away from the noise and here I am listening to it. And I can't get away!

It's ok, really. I'll survive. But if I see this guy out on the mean streets of Siem Reap later this afternoon, while this memory is still fresh, I might give him a sidelong glance and whisper douche bag under my breath. That's how aggressive I get. I'm missing my mustache at this moment. I feel like my glares would take on more meaning. But alas, that would take me another fifty painful days to get it back. Fifty days of anguish. I guess I'm ok without the mustache. I'll just eat another cookie instead.

The look I was giving, impressive I know.

Life in the wild, meditation and chocolate chip cookies

Monday morning. I feel weak. Trying to get going, but I don’t know where to go. There is no sense of urgency other than when I feel the bloat in my bowels that came from someone’s dirty finger last night. I only had fried mixed vegetables with a scattering of cashews, which, by the way, did not hit the spot. I managed to make it home without procuring a bag of cookies, perhaps only because I felt like my stomach was still expanding. Turns out my friend’s meal was a little more toxic than mine. He spent the night in the hospital with diarrhea on IV fluid.

This morning, I had my first meditation session in what feels like months. It lasted a mere 20 minutes and even then I peeked at the clock once or twice. It’s a start, but definitely a poor one at that. Felt like I was sleeping for half of it. Breathe in the white light…love, kindness, compassion, patience and breathe out the blackness… anger, hatred, jealousy, impatience. Sometimes I don’t have enough breath in me to remember exactly what I’m breathing in and out.

I shaved my chest hair yesterday. I seem to do that every couple of years. Get bored looking at the same old thing. Unfortunately, I nicked my nipples in the process and they’re slightly irritated. Probably not the wisest decision to use a fresh Mach 3 razor when you’re shaving the hairs off your breasts. Now I feel slightly embarrassed to have such a bare chest, but I’ll probably feel at home in the gym. Until tomorrow…

The highlight of my morning, most mornings in fact, was entering my bathroom and hearing the zap zap zap from my mosquito racket as I connected with one of those bastards. They enter through the gaps in the wall fan, which when not on, allows for easily accessibility. I feel a bit strange talking to myself when I kill one.  Gotcha motherfucker! I didn’t kill a thing for months after my Buddhist meditation retreat earlier this year, but waking with itchy ankles and about five mosquitos swarming in the bathroom has changed me.

I even noticed that the daddy longlegs got some breakfast this morning. I don’t bother him up on the ledge near the fan. He’s near the shower, but high enough that he never gets wet. A mosquito got caught in his expanding web and I stopped my own business to watch his. One leg holding the mosquito and another madly tying him up. Then he’d stop, smell the mosquito’s bottom and start tying him up even more. Then he’d stop again and smell or perhaps nibble on his head. Life in the wild must be pretty, uh, wild.

Problem with living in the wild, it’d be pretty hard to procure oneself some chocolate chip cookies. And where could you stop to check email without wondering if some other fucker was going to pounce on you? It’d be a pretty hard existence. Get all sunburned and then try to either find a) a tube of aloe vera, b) an aloe vera plant growing in the wild, c) a female companion to help ease the pain or d) a cave to cry in. I’m kind of glad I don’t have to worry about getting caught in someone else’s web, to be quite honest.

Speaking of cookies has got me all hungry. I’d much prefer to eat something healthy, but most places with a cheap plate of fried rice don’t have free wifi. Nor do they have air conditioning or a comfortable place to call home for a couple hours. So I go to the cafe where the cheapest menu option is the croissant, but I’m not French so I opt for the second cheapest option, the cookies. Crunchy and delicious, the cookie monster in me is glad they don’t come in a bottomless bag otherwise I’d probably eat at least a dozen before my stomach signals my brain that I’m full. I try to balance it out with a pot of green tea.

Time to suit up and get out on the track before the sun starts setting. Yawn. Otherwise I’ll lie in bed a few more hours. And as tempting as that sounds, it’s just not that tempting without another body in it. So off I go into the bright sun’s rays to combat another day in the wild fending off predators and looking for prey. Eyes shifting left then right and then down to avoid the cars, motos and potholes. Quickly glancing the food carts to see if what’s in them stimulates any digestive juices. If not, carry on. 

Red pianos, magic dragons and whipped cream

Puff the Magic Dragon is playing in the distance. Sounds like someone is singing karaoke because it is a poor rendition. Rather odd since this is Cambodia, but I am in the heart of the tourist center after all. At a place full of more tourists at times than perhaps any other place in Siem Reap other than say Angkor Wat or Temple Bar, this city's prime attractions. I am at The Red Piano, which is rather empty at the moment, but I am enjoying the relative peace & quiet. I can dig it. The first time I've ever set foot in this establishment and it's nice to know there actually is a red piano on the second floor. The food was ok. I overdosed on salt, pepper and chili sauce in my double omelet baguette sandwich and washed it down with a tiny cup of coffee and a nasty coconut cookie.

Today is a celebratory day of sorts. Last night I shaved my mustache. It was day 53. It was holding me back from reaching my full potential, too sweaty and too reminiscent of whiskers than a mustache ought to be. It's a bit sad, but I feel rejuvenated, especially after my two dollar haircut this morning. A bit like having an ice cold beer after a hard day's work. A shower after a hot, sweaty day working in the sun. Sex after a long dry spell. Cutting and cleaning your toenails. Popping an irritating boil. Eating a ripe, juicy mango after days of stale, cold lumpy white rice. Sleeping on a bed after days camping on lumpy soil. Seeing a real woman in a crowd of ladyboys. They still exist!

Don't know what to do with myself today. Second day off in a row. But we are filming for a few more days, back at it in the morning. So that being said, I have to go to the orphanage and clean up the location for tomorrow morning's shoot, which will most certainly be destroyed by kids highly trained in the art of destruction. Give them anything and it is almost guaranteed to be broken, missing or defunct within 24 hours. That's why I don't give them anything anymore. I swear, if I gave them a bicycle, it would be fucked up the next day. If I gave them clothes, they would be torn or missing. It is extremely frustrating and despite all the pleading to take care or don't touch or please keep, these pleas seemingly go in one ear and out the other.

So, when I feel giving, I tend to give only food or drink and let their digestive systems ruin it. It's amazing how fast a bag of cookies disappears. Oh wait, I'm talking about myself. But seriously, something different and delicious gets consumed faster than you can holy shitballs! Naturally, it's a fight for survival. I can only imagine my Mom growing up in a household of twelve kids and fighting for an extra spoonful of beans or a slightly bigger scoop of ice cream. I remember always wanting more than the next guy and especially more than my brother and sister. It's my competitive nature. I was Mr. More as I child, as I am often reminded.

Time to go get a needle in my chest. One last keloid injection. And some papaya. And some Vitamin D. And then it'll be time to sweat it up at the orphanage and give it the Midas touch. Or at least like squirting a little whipped cream on some dog shit. Hard to convert a Pinto into a Porsche. I won't miss the flies when this is all said and done, but I will miss the kids. They deserve better. 

Day 48: getting my razor ready

December 5, 2012. Day 48 of the mustache. I think I will make it to day 50 and call it a day. I'm tired of having this itchy mess above my lip and looking like a creep. In all actuality, I am only keeping it because I don't know if my role in the film is finished. I am a bad man in the movie, a violent sex tourist and pedophile. How did I agree to that one? Do you want to see my monkeys? I hope this won't affect my run for the presidency in a few years.

In other news, I have an itchy throat. And I'm wearing purple and gray striped socks. First time in months I've worn long socks. It's like wearing flip flops for too long and shoes actually feel good. Same same. Besides, I bought these socks in India and have never worn them. It's time to get my dollar's worth. I think the Japanese green tea was good for my throat. I'm not sure about the chocolate chip cookies. They were good though. Thank goodness there were only five otherwise I'd still be eating.

Listening to fun. at the moment. I think they've pretty much blown up, but if you've yet to hear of them, take a listen. Modern day version of Queen. Aside from that, what else is new? We're in the midst of filming A Cambodian Winter, which is an interesting experience to say the least. Check it on Facebook if you're curious. Today is a day off or a half day off, I'm not really sure. I'm taking advantage of the free time cause most days are from 10am to midnight. Of course there is a lot of down time, but I generally have to be at the ready and can't be sitting in front of my MacBook in the middle of a rice field.

The year is almost over. I'm trying to stay present, but thoughts of the future are creeping in. I don't think I'll be in Cambodia for 2013, but we all know anything can happen. Starting to think about Bangkok or Hanoi and see how my gut responds. So far, it's saying mmmmmm to both Thai and Vietnamese food. You can't go wrong either way. Still don't know what I'd do in either place, but as I typically do, I'll probably figure it out when I get there.

Well, my bladder is saying get the fuck outta this cafe, but I'm still here and not quite ambitious enough to get up. Not quite sure what to do next. I guess I'll post a picture and get the hell on out of here. This pic was from a couple weeks ago. Transporting banana trees on the back of my moto, Cambodian style. From my friend's house to the orphanage. Making it look good or at least more interesting for the film. Art direction. The tree was a dollar and I was told it was too expensive. Whatever.