Hell’a Febs. How’s it hangin’?

So, the crowns are in and settled. I’m still not entirely sure WHAT to think, honestly, because my face seems to be changing every single week. By the time we got to it, I was just so tired that it was really hard to care about anything. But it’s done, so whatever.

February has begun, and so far, I think it’s going okay, if a little… let’s say strange. Strange is a good word. I like strange. Something different, at least, from badDepressingCraptastic.

Work has been some combined variety of okay and bleh but in ways that don’t upset me enough to cause me any pain outside of the office, and for some reason, large groups of people keep going other places for meetings. Last week my entire office was emptied for two hours without notice. I thought the rapture had occurred or something. Leaving me behind. Alone. All alone.

Probably all the cursing.
Probably all the cursing.

And yet, opportunities are opportunities, and I turned my speakers up and took the chance to dance around and just have a great time while there was a great time to be had.

Eventually people came back, and it turned out that they all just had other things to do, but it was worth it to wake me up to making this month better than January.

Then there was yesterday. Yesterday started with a broken purse strap. Ugh. Yesterday was Friday, and my duties were fairly light in the afternoon, so I decided to take a long lunch. Being epileptic, I don’t drive, but the buses go well enough, that I can get to Mexican on another part of the island and back without too much of a problem.

You can't consider crowding a problem.
You can’t consider crowding a problem.

I got there. The food was great. The food there is always pretty good, so I enjoyed myself and was able to relax into my chips and salsa.

Relax. Relaaaaax.
Relax. Relaaaaax.

But in trying to get back, the bus passed me. And I’d already been waiting almost the full go.

Then a motorbike taxi rolls up. It takes around five attempts to get him to understand my destination, which is right up the street, we’re talking only just out of visual and only because there’s a few trees in the way (but is across a large roundabout, which is a bitch to cross on foot). He finally understands what I’m asking and quotes me 80 baht. I nearly choked. That is an absurd amount of money for the distance.

Technically, 80 baht equals less than $3, so you may think, ‘What’s the big deal?’ But it’s a combination of $3 being a big deal when considering my salary (which is from a Thai company, not a foreign company), and the distance. It is in no way an 80 baht trip. Before the bus went by, I had a motorbike taxi offer 100 baht to get me all the way to town, like 3 or 4 times as far at the very least, for 20 more baht. I didn’t accept the offer because the bus is 30 baht for that same trip. Why pay 100 when you can pay 30? Still, this guy wouldn’t back down off of his 80 baht for right up the street (we’re talking, at most at 40 baht trip).

Now, there’s this kid hopping in his car behind me. He hears the exchange and cuts in. He says, “I’m going that way, I’ll drop you for free.”

Now, I’m not so young anymore, but as a female you’re raised with a number of lessons practically beaten into you, but I figure this really isn’t much different than taking any other taxi on the island. Still, I tell him we’re going to have serious problems if he kills me. He promises not to, so I wave away the taxi driver and hop in the car. 

This, I decide, is the broken purse strap coming back to me. Was it unlucky? Lucky? Is this good or bad? How is February going to be compared to January? Maybe this one event will decide all.

Hahaha; I’m not at all a superstitious person, but it was just such an interesting little event.

We never exchanged names, but he asks where I’m from. I tell him I’m American, He tells me he’s from Canada, and I’m like well that makes me feel better. He laughs. And then tells me he was born in Russia, though, to which I respond “well, that changes things.” And then we both laughed. It turned out he was picking his brother up much further down the road and was able to drop me all the way to Big C, the first stop on the Pink Bus line that I needed to take me home.

So maybe the purse strap was a lucky break.

Maybe February’s going to be my month.

Let’s see, shall we?

(Also, Howlite seems to be doing really well! And Anisa, too!)

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