Bored Outta My Effing Mind.

I am sitting in a Starbucks, paying a little too much for WiFi, but I'm still so terribly in love with my new MacBook such that to allow my fingers to touch the keypad of any other notebook (or desktop) computer would be akin to cheating on one's hairstylist. I trust that you will be vigilant enough to check my blog for updates - as much as I may love some of you or pretend to like you, I'm too lazy to write the same thing over and over again in my email and while I have already done it once, I am not most keen on sending transmissions out en masse. Not to mention, now that I am paying for internet instead of poaching off work, my parents, or some other idiot who failed to put WEP encryption on his/her network, time is money.

I have no pictures to upload as of yet. Right now I am jetlagged yet somehow still conscious at 4:04 p.m., in Pattaya. Pattaya might be the shittiest city in Bangkok, the land of sex tourism, but my cousins work here during the week, manning the hotel and the radio stations. Let me elaborate - the cousins who speak the best English are here. See, I'm the lame, stupid American cousin who has failed to learn Thai just yet. Now that I'm bored out of my mind, I'm devoting a lot of time to:
1) sleeping
2) walking off my fat ass
3) delving back into graphic design
4) photography (well, not yet - that requires being a little more lucid that I have been)
5) learning Thai

Last night a drunk as hell farang (white dude) got all up in my grill as I made my way down the walking street. He must need his eyes checked, for I am neither lady boy nor prostitute. As much should have been obvious from the skirt that reached past my knees, the lack of skin showing above the belt, and my meaty yet still feminine paws. Last night I decided maybe I should pursue a Nan Goldin-esque direction in my photography, shrug off my discomfort with my subjects being aware that I am photographing them, and take gritty images of the sex trade. No focus on the underage prostitution, just the lady boys. Apparently it's not just a market for the farang who may or may not care to know that the "woman" might really be..."a man." Japanese women come looking for Nigerian men, Thai men seek out pasty Romanian/Russian whores, and...I'm sure some are just so drugged/drunk, they don't really care what they bed. Another thing I found out via Google: 15 is the age of consent in Thailand, 18 to consent for money...but prostitution is technically illegal?

I know, you're all thinking this is my favorite place in the world.

Oh yes, let us address the boredom - boredom is a necessary step for me. As someone steeped in the mindless self-tradition of apathy and habitual socializing, boredom is necessary for me to take initiative. Besides, I know better than to complain. Give me a week to mellow out and be at one with bumming around, and I'll be in heaven.

Something new I learned about Pattaya from my cousin: there is a large group of Arabs who come here from Dubai, ready to let loose. Actually, the family hotel's clientele is mostly Arab these days. Keeps the farang at bay, because they are so narrowminded and afraid of Muslims. Idiots. On the walking street last night, I saw two Arab men holding hands. They must be in such bliss, making the most out of their stolen moment.

Anyway, it's back to Bangkok tomorrow - I'll be braving the world of the national railroad to go downtown via Hualamphong, the main train station in Chinatown. The last time I was on this thing, I had to dart around to make sure I didn't touch any monks and disgrace them. Ha, I notice there are NO MONKS IN PATTAYA. As for tonight, I'll be going to the spa (not one of them seedy stands on the street) for some massage action.

Life is hard.