for you, for me

nightfall comes and the sky turns bitter.
alone in the sand
I think of you.
strangled by the tempered breeze, my words won't form
for you hold something I can't find.

Beach Activities

I am glowing. No, not a radiant glow. More like a (I live in Maine and haven't seen the sun in may months) glow. The beach is packed. The crowds are some of the best people watching I have experienced to this day...EVERYONE has a story, I just know it. I Sit on my towel hidden behind my sunglasses and guess, prod, and bullshit a bunch in my head. This is fun. I not only analyze their social lives, I analyze their bodies. Because I’m a huge dork, and I think the muscle system is the coolest thing next to Pathology, of course. I watch, and I formulate a treatment plan. Like that guy over there, with the rounded shoulders...If he stretched out his Pectoralis muscles and Intercostals, he can strengthen his Rhomboids and mid-Trapezius. That lady, walking with two small children, her sacrum is twisted and causing her pelvis to internally rotate excessively on her left side. I love my job.

OM Shanti Shanti OM

Sitting in the Hong Kong Airport I am reminded of the last time I wandered these halls in 2005. Fresh faced, and scared shit-less I can reflect with a faint smile, a hint of sarcasm, and a little more grit underneath my fingernails(so to speak).,

I left Maine this time for a different South East Asian outlook, Thailand. Am I nervous? no. Am I sad to leave 5 degree winter weather behind? no. equally so. did I give myself the slightest chance to prepare as any savvy traveler may? hell no. Just my style. what can I say?-(sorry Mom)

So begins my journey. so begins what I am expecting to be a fanciful and magical trip back to the part of the world I fell in love with, and hasn't left my mind.

Back to Hong Kong, and now my impending headache from all the champagne I’ve guzzled here in the lounge.... on the plane drinking a plum tea tonic, sickly sweetened, but just as inviting as the bubbly....2 more hours to Bangkok.

ok. I made it! I am cracked out of my mind, buzzed and stuffed from business class feasting...am I really getting off this plane? I could just attempt to stay and traverse my way to Mumbai with the plane’s itineraries. How counter-productive. stop being a visa chicken, Ashley.

I follow this very fast-walking westerner. he must be from the states- better yet probably even New York. I can’t keep up. I am seriously hoofing it through the terminal on a high speed chase! It’s now a game, and it’s on! swooping in and out of view, I lose him to the sights, the hoards of japanese tourists and the impending Visa signs. Game over.

Visa entry is fine. I’m a baby, and have that written al over my face. but as I look around the line, so does everyone else. Ha!

well, we are now getting to the part of the story where I tell you something funny, and you laugh out loud at my nonsense. So, here we go: In my daze-y haze, and the twenty hours of fitful sleep, I go to the ATM to take out some cash. Next to me is an American pilot asking me where he should stay in the city, and trying to chat me up...at the ATM!!! while I’m getting cash! I swiftly shy away, grab my money and go. Make it to the cab, set a price with the driver, and at one in the morning get to my hotel. PHEW!

Twelve hours later, I soon realize my card is not to be seen. panic stricken, and no way of talking to my bank until the time difference catches up. I feel like a serious ASSHOLE. Well, that is surely because I am a serious asshole. I am also going to place the blame on the pilot who was hitting on me, because that is what I do. Luckily, I took out a significant amount, and am ok until my dearest Mamacita FED-EX’s my card to Phuket...to a beach bungalow....

Last morning in Bangkok, eating eggs from the chickens I saw in the market across the street, significantly caffeinated on espresso, surrounded by a bunch of worldly hippies here at Shanti Lodge. I’ve given up on my three day search for a yoga mat of some sort, and have been regulated to my sham-wow towel. OM.

Meeting my buddy Ian on the beach, if he can peel himself out of the massage parlors to buy me a drink...