the one where i cut off all my hair

And so, after watching the oscars in the sweating heat, I decided to cut off all my hair and be pretty like te stars.

I feel freeeeeee!!!!!!!!


Long hair isn't for me.


Signed,
a happy heather

oh the joys

So, am I reading this right? This has made my week. My life even. I am sitting here flipping around here online, and I came across this bit of news:


MISS SPEARS HAS SHAVED HER HEAD BALD! Woo hoo. In case she wasn't in the news enough. Holy moly little Spears offspring, mummy is going INSANE! I love it. Too good to be true

This isn't to say I don't think a woman should shave her head, but I simply don't think SHE thinks women should shave her head, and this is why she did it. Oops, I did it again!

twice in one week?

I can hardly believe it myself. I am a little tired of being sick, as there is nothing comforting about having a cold or feeling icky when there is nothing to do but sit around in 100 degree smog. There is no relaxing fresh air. There is hot smog and air conditioning. The best happy medium I can find is my bathroom after a hot shower, as the smog is gone but it seems refreshing. Anyway. I digress.

I spent the weekend last weekend feeling kind of icky and down and missing home (see last post). I have a hell of a lot of work to do right now, so I don't have time to be sick. I went to school on Monday, over the worst of it, (so I thought) and then. I went to lunch at the local hole in the wall (rats and bugs, free!) I have eaten here five times a week for two years. No problems. Yes, it's dirty. No, I don't always know what I am eating. Yes, they take the garnish from our dishes and reuse them. Yes, the nasty old grandma insists on squeezing my lime onto my fried rice for me. If only you could see her hands. But I think this is kind of a bonus. It keeps the germs alive and well inside me, so I am ready for anything Bangers hands my way. But. Monday, I order spring rolls. Lime iced tea. Normal. I ate, went back to school to keep on working, and within an hour, I was squirming around in my chair, rolling back and forth, knowing what was going to happen. I called Rin, got my classes covered and cried to whole way home. I won't go into later details. I was out of work until Wednesday.

Wednesday was fine, Rin made me a valentine's dinner and then last night I was working late. I ordered quail's eggs from the guy who sells fried crickets and silk worms. I order them three times a week. Never had a problem. I then went to tutor, where they fed me some dim sum...and then saw a student as I was walking to the end of the street, and he handed me a huge bag of little oranges. Normal food. Quite good food actually. I got home, had leftovers with Rin, and then spent the rest of the night hovering over the throne, wishing my life would simply end. I knew I had to go into work today, as I have a lot of work to get done. But I haven't eaten a thing, and when I went to the pharmacist, he said I have had food poisoning, twice. In one week. What are the chances?

The thing is, I take too many chances. I eat anything. There are no expiry dates, eggs aren't kept in the fridge, and I will eat food from the street vendors with the best of them. I used to be so careful, but then I went out on a limb and started eating anything. Fried grasshoppers with pepper? Sure. Bring it on. Good for you. Fish gut curry? Well, Rin eats it...I only make faces. Mysterious meat on a stick? Man, that stuff is good. Fruit sitting in the sun all day? Wash it, and it's fine, right? I have had no issues. If you are too careful here you don't get the germs into you, and you get sick a lot easier. But, it has come to bite me in the ass.

And now I sit, aching tummy, tired bones, still trying to get rid of whatever is slowly killing me from the inside.

Fun fun fun!

On a side note, only 2 weeks left until my holiday. I think I am going to go to Laos...get away for a bit. Also, I have my first ever official speech in Thai. Next Friday I am speaking at a parent meeting, and they asked me to speak in Thai too! Uh-oh...this should be interesting. Not exactly the same as talking to a taxi driver or swearing at the people selling veggies overpriced.

More to come soon!

February 8, 2007

I just got off the phone with my mother a while ago. My phone was on vibrate from my meeting this morning, and I forgot to turn the ringer on. She called five times, so when I called her back I knew something was wrong.

My grandfather, mother's father, or better known as "Pops," died last night (American time) which means about 9:00 this morning as I was teaching K3 math. He had an infection of some sorts, and well...he was going to be 88 this year.

Pops lived an amazing life. He was in the war. He was a doctor. He loved his wife. He loved his daughter (my mom) more than anyone in the world. In fact, he loved her so much that in his later years as the onset of dimensia come about, he called everyone he knows 'Jan.' Including his wife, myself, my friends, my brothers, etc.

Pops was the coolest grandfather I could have ever had. He used to take me fishing in Ontario, and I used to spend the weekend their condo about a half hour from my house, and he would let me watch tv and buy me ice cream and take me swimming and shopping, and let me be a free little girl. I used to look forward to fridays after dance class so I could go and see 'Pops and Bo.'

In his later years he suffered from congestive heart failure (about four or five years ago). I was going to school in Ontario so I drove up to see them a few times and take care of things. That was a hard time on both my mother and I who are quite similar. He made it through, but he was never quite the same after that. I can't really remember the last time I saw him. It was probably when I was in my last semester of university before coming to Thailand. He always used to sit on the bench outside his condo and wave as I drove off, with tears in his eyes. I have no doubt that he loved me for a solid 24 years. I loved him to bits.

It's all a little shocking, and is kind of difficult to be away from any family when something like this happens.

I hope my family is doing well. These things are expected when you get up close to 90 years of age. It doesn't make it much easier as I sit and think back about him, trying to type through tears.

Bo doesn't know yet. I don't think that she will understand. They have been living in the same retirement home in Quebec, but in seperate rooms. My parents are going to see her today. It must be hard on my mother. She is so strong.

Much love to the Macdonalds and Burtches. I miss you guys lots.