This and that
I quit my weekend job and now have time to do stuff on the weekends! Score! So this afternoon we went to see Final Destination 5, which is the first movie in that particular franchise that I've seen. I actually enjoyed it, though it may have been its filming location -- I love me a good dose of Vancouver. Watching the Lions Gate Bridge collapse in the opening sequence? Fun times.
Scott has been sick the last week and finally went to the doctor when it got to be too weird and tropical. The first doctor he saw seemed to think he had scarlet fever and gave him antibiotics and sent him away. Later he was having severe headache and body pain and decided that the original doc was full of crap and went back to see a different one. Second doc thought he had dengue fever. Whichever terrifying tropical disease he had, he seems to be fine now, so that's a relief.
Current plan: quit full time jobs at the end of this semester (in early October). Spend a week at a beach (probably Ko Chang, but maybe go back to Ko Tao to do some more scuba diving), then go home to Vancouver, admitting defeat. Scott's bosses are all Thai, so he's concocting an elaborate face-saving lie that doesn't insult their country, but my boss is an American who spends at least 30% of his time complaining about Thailand, so I have no qualms about telling him the truth: I'm sick of the noise and the smell of this city, sick of the bureaucracy and xenophobia, sick of making so little money that we're putting ourselves in the red just paying off Scott's student loans.
The thought of being 'home' in less than two months is exciting, but also kind of sad. Everyone that I miss will be excited to have me back for all of about a month, and some of them probably didn't even notice that I've been gone. I don't blame them, of course -- people have lives. But knowing how my social life is going to go, and knowing that I'll probably just end up working the line at another restaurant again, it makes me sad that I even bothered to go away. And that makes me sad, that I failed at living abroad. I'm like Willie Scott in Temple of Doom, whinging and complaining about the food and the smell, insulting the locals at every turn. Anyone with brains would rather be like Marion Ravenwood, defeating locals in drinking contests and having believable chemistry with Indiana Jones.
Scott has been sick the last week and finally went to the doctor when it got to be too weird and tropical. The first doctor he saw seemed to think he had scarlet fever and gave him antibiotics and sent him away. Later he was having severe headache and body pain and decided that the original doc was full of crap and went back to see a different one. Second doc thought he had dengue fever. Whichever terrifying tropical disease he had, he seems to be fine now, so that's a relief.
Current plan: quit full time jobs at the end of this semester (in early October). Spend a week at a beach (probably Ko Chang, but maybe go back to Ko Tao to do some more scuba diving), then go home to Vancouver, admitting defeat. Scott's bosses are all Thai, so he's concocting an elaborate face-saving lie that doesn't insult their country, but my boss is an American who spends at least 30% of his time complaining about Thailand, so I have no qualms about telling him the truth: I'm sick of the noise and the smell of this city, sick of the bureaucracy and xenophobia, sick of making so little money that we're putting ourselves in the red just paying off Scott's student loans.
The thought of being 'home' in less than two months is exciting, but also kind of sad. Everyone that I miss will be excited to have me back for all of about a month, and some of them probably didn't even notice that I've been gone. I don't blame them, of course -- people have lives. But knowing how my social life is going to go, and knowing that I'll probably just end up working the line at another restaurant again, it makes me sad that I even bothered to go away. And that makes me sad, that I failed at living abroad. I'm like Willie Scott in Temple of Doom, whinging and complaining about the food and the smell, insulting the locals at every turn. Anyone with brains would rather be like Marion Ravenwood, defeating locals in drinking contests and having believable chemistry with Indiana Jones.