first post

In retrospect, the 18 hour flight over was far more palatable than those six hour transcontinental suckers. Perhaps it was the all-you-can-eat Thai food, the all-you-can-drink beverages, the several dozen on-demand movies, or maybe it was that upgrade I sprang for that let my seat recline almost all the way. Or maybe it was the quiet resignation that I was going to be on that damn plane all day and there was nothing I could do about it. Regardless, kapowie, I'm here.

It's hot. And humid. About the same as a bad day in NYC, I think, but I haven't bothered figuring out the frickin metric yet, so I don't really know what actual the temperature is. (Yeah, yeah, I know. x*9/5+32. But I've got better things to do, dig?)

Pattaya, it turns out is the second largest city in Thailand. They're not kidding. There's a street here that's like Bourbon Street times one million, if you trade the drunk frat boys for Thais and Europeans. People keep warning me that I'm going to be shocked, but I try to explain that I'm from New York and that it's crazy there too, except for it not being filled with Thai people. They don't quite get it.

The diving is, well, a learning experience. I've only been out two days so far. Day One: Three meter waves on the ocean on the way out to the dive site. I almost went over the side. Very exciting indeed. Good thing I am pretty much Anti-SeaSick Man. Day Two: First dive involved less than one meter visibility. That means when you look down, you can barely see your feet. Luckily, I left my compass on the boat, so navigation was a little tricky. Lots of hot stay-close-to-the-fins-of-the-guy-in-front-of-me action. I managed to avoid getting impaled by any of the kabillions of huge, beautiful sea urchins they've got here (colors! the sea urchins here have colors!), probably due to my awesome ninja skillz. Then, same day, second dive, gorgeous clear water, and spotted a two meter long sea turtle free swimming. Two meters long! Biggest one I've ever seen. Nice.

The shop's filled with characters, as is par for the course with dive shops. Lot's of Brits, a couple Yanks, and a smattering of random other countries (Turkey? Kuwait?). The one major thing everyone has in common is they all drink like superheroes. Oh, and they dive sometimes too. Too soon to see if there's any keepers in the lot.

The battery on this computer I hijacked is about to kick, and I have to study for my Hunt For Buried Treasure course (seriously), so it's time to sign off.

Stay well, keep out of too much trouble, and damnit, miss me a bit, will you?

radio silence

Moments, moments now. On the verge. Just a fistful of hours remain as I nearly complete my inevitable acceleration towards escape velocity, soon to careen free from the inertial bubble that is The States. I know that my communications thus far have been pitifully intermittent, and the horizon sees them only becoming more so. The phone is getting turned off this week, and interpoo access on the other side will hopefully dwindle dramatically (if all goes according to plan). Aloha grid, you have served me well.

After learning to surf in San Diego (surfing is fun, hard work and surfer girls are very, very hot), camping in northern Minnesota (getting lost in the cold, dark wilderness sucked, but clambering up that frickin mountain was totally worth it - also, fires should be built *before* it gets dark; it's far more difficult when you can't see what you're lighting on fire), partying in Los Angeles (they party hard, no messin around), swim training in Chapel Hill (think leaner, sinewy, and way faster than before, which, relative to now, was basically a constant state of near-drowning), and a beautiful, week-long beach wedding on Cape Hatteras (I survived unhitched), we are now mere moments away from finally achieving intraplanetary orbit. It's so close I can taste the atmosphere.

After I alight on the far side of the planet in Thailand, I'll be almost perfectly jet lagged by the twelve hour time difference (vs EST), but I'll be sure to report in as soon as I can on the trials and tribulations of life on a beach. We can shoulder our hardships together (flip-flops or barefoot? swim or dive? the blond or the brunette? both?) and rejoice.

I miss you all dearly, hope you are well, and my next toast will be to you, my absent friends.