FOOD!

After experiencing a bit of blockage due to the quart of rice I eat daily I decided I needed to mix it up a bit. 

It's been a butt too long since any food left me, and for a moment there I was thinking "Dang my body is freakin' efficient!" Or "yeeeahhh I've really cut down my portion sizes!"

Nope. Just too much sticky white rice. It is the basis for everything. Except noodles--ask where you can find a dish without rice, and you get "you want noodles?" Same thing. 

And I realized this as I was trying to run my morning 10K around my favorite river island, when a thick brick dropped into my gut and as great as it felt to be sweating only a normal amount (because it isn't oppressively hot early in the morning--it's actually quite pleasant. In fact, I don't know what I'm saying, it's never oppressively hot--it's the fucking tropics and I love it) I knew I was about to sweat a lot more. 

And sweat more I did.

Luckily there was a bog hole on the island--a very hot one--but a bog hole indeed. A squatter too--even more conducive to evacuation. Cha ching. But ah but ah but ah--the toilet of absence paper, present yet again! And this time not a squirter in sight. 

But. A bowl. A little doggy dish, next to the hole, with a low-flying faucet next to it. Hmm...ok...this must be for bum splashing and subsequent hand washing, right? So, I did as the Moroccans do and did the deed--right hand only! (a slight modification for the southpaws in the building) and then splashed off and continued my run, about 15 degrees for the warmer, fantasizing about a shower.

Interesting, I thought. Nothing to flush with. No handle. Well, I guess I'll just leave it. 

Well I showered, shaved, got off to work...and at lunch I found myself pissing next to a colleague (in the bathroom, in a urinal) and relaying this story with glee--yeah, he smiled and said: that bowl? It was there for flushing. Filling and flushing. Ahhhhhh

Good thing I'm not easily embarrassed. 

Still, to remedy my situation, the larger problem I mean, I took a little trip down to Makro, the Wal-Mart equivalent (only after another aggressively rousing game of Chair Ball, cackling included--and today we couldn't resist a bit of friendly tug of war...who else works for a school principal who insists upon raucous competitive sport after lesson planning? It's brilliant! Apparently we are training for Sports Day, where the teachers tee off against the parents--and losing is NOT an option. We are being chiseled, trained, and scouted to annihilate. Good! AND I must say: as proud as I usually am to be a cyclist, I adore my motorbike. I have sacrificed my dignity to make life infinitely more convenient. Sue me.) to pick up some supplies. 

And oh, supplies I did find! 

Ham
Cheese
Peanut Butter 
Jelly
Chocolate
Lettuce
Yogurt
Mayonnaise

Yes!

It cost me a fortune but my rice-filled belly and Western sensibilities were happy. 

I returned home with my bag of treats to a scolding Dutch housemate: "Peanut butter and jelly? You silly American."

Ha! He says this now, until he wants a PB&J...

And you know, the funny thing is? I fucking miss Thai food. 

And life goes on, in bliss, in bliss.