So fourth time in Chiang Mai! What to do other than buy more worthless shit. I made the most of my time alone when Gemma & Adam visited Pai. If making the most of your time can also be read as doing bugger all. I visited a nice park and gave my thoughts free roam for three hours. Preoccupied with post-holiday income, they were largely well behaved.
Chiang Mai is known for its markets, including the Grand Daddy of night markets. I slovenly visited a few of its smaller cousins during the day and kept a spending fury for the weekend market. Chiang Mai is also known for various other reasons, I just don't know what they are. Asking someone else didn't seem like an important enough question so I'll guess and say it's well known for its slow tattooists, its food poisoning, its difficulty in reaching without being chopped to bits and for a Buddhist asylum with its 26 day introductory course into how to become a nutbox; successful graduates, one bus driver.
After a week of abstinence, a reunion with Gemma and Adam was a more than fitting reason to toast the occasion. Birthdays for Ang, my sister and an ex, and celebrating long life for the Thai King, made for quite a session. $20 between three of us no less. Go to love Thailand.
I found an extra $100US in my bag and determined that allocating a small percentage of that to a shopping blowout would be more positively influential on my state of mind than negatively influential on my ability to feed myself in four weeks time. That was certainly a dumb idea cunningly disguised as a stupid idea. Whiskey helped such a determination seem feasible at the time although the logic of it escapes me now. Anyway, I got MC Hammer like tribal pants for $6; magic. A bike helmet and goggle combo, 700 baht; a bargain at twice the price. A new traveling hat for $2.60; are they even trying to make money? 2 pairs of patchwork fishermans pants, $4; two for the price of two and still a bargain. Even a rasta bracelet for 10 baht, so cheap we brought one each. And with that, a few dollars remained for the last minute spend up in Bangkok and then I had to lug all this crap around for the rest of the trip.
Apparently I cut a pretty frightening figure as I charged around loose, juiced up and wired on whiskey and chocolate. Menacing the stall holders with such frenzy turned out to be a less than effective bargaining tool unless I was prepared to go to the next level and merely rob these people. Again the three of us laughed so much we nearly multiplied by division and again my short term plans solidified around Adam & Gemmas.
That's not all that solidified as we all succumbed to impoverished colonic output. Gemma took to the local cuisine with such zeal that it quickly became four days without a deposit at the WC bank. She was restricted to bed while she nursed a painfully growing baby conceived from what Adam termed to be 'immaculate consumption'. Having witnessed it all, he then retracted the comment as it was obvious that it had been anything but immaculate. Adam was likewise afflicted although to a lesser extent whereas I think I just had my elemental setting incorrect. I have been fine-tuning it since it slipped on to FIRE after the chili grenade detonated. It was set on WATER the morning of the fever and has gone past EARTH in favour of WIND now. I even tried imitating the stall holders habit of rubbing freshly acquired money all over their unsold goods for luck. I brought some toilet paper and piously wiped the entire seat of my pants with the roll, to no other success other than dirtying the paper. Quincys, Rommel Amoeba and the snails inky excrement have all succumbed to lymphatic control now so a few bowls of stir-fried psyllium husks should be all I need to get back to 100%. Don't know how much of that they have in Laos but I was about to find out.
Before I do, I must say that inspiration for writing a novel has dried up completely. I was starting to imagine physical causes for my mental blankness, and a story of a trekker in Nepal had me convinced that self diagnosis and treatment were the best course of action. Jonathan & Sarah over heard a man say that a Nepalese Doctor told him that writers cramp was responsible for the paralysis he felt down one entire side of his body. He was asking another trekker, a veterinarian, for a second opinion, as the prognosis was worrying him in light of the fact that he wasn't even a writer. Out of his field of expertise but still not an utter moron like the other guy, the vet encouraged the trekker to get to a hospital straight away, preferably not a Nepalese one, as paralysis had obviously affected both halves of his brain.
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