Hillawee Duff and cah ovary-ing

I know this looks long, but I promise it is worth your time. If I'm wrong and you want minutes of your life back, you can have some of mine. I've got a lot left. Benny Hinn told me so.

Okay, so I'm at the mall, where I got by boat taxi, and I just had KFC. It was great. Yesterday I spent four hours in the car, and traveled a total of maybe sixty miles. Let me explain. My current place of residence is on a street comparable to I-35 with stoplights and no turn arrows. They don't know what an access road is. So Penchuburi (I-35) is what we have to take to get to the school I will be teaching at so I can interview with the principal. The school is on the other side of Bangkok out in the country. (I'm moving on Tuesday.) So I get in the car with Mr. Brian (a British guy who is a coordinator for Thai private schools and about 60 but very cool) and his Thai wife Ginger (which I think is the closest thing to her real name so that's what I told to call her/ she's about 35 or 40) and their son (I don't know how to spell his name but it sounds like Moss).

So, we're crawling along this street. I look over out the window and see that Christopher Reeve and the ghost of FDR have somehow ditched their wheelchairs, tied two of their legs together in three-legged-race style, and are still moving a lot faster than the car I'm in. (Hmm, that was maybe a little, okay, way gauche.) Moss is a very nice boy, but he's very hyper and he's singing and humming out loud. He is about 7, just the age when that ceases to be cute and become s rather irritating. But he offered me a cookie, so we're tight. In the front seat, Brian and Ginger are projecting what are ostensibly remonstrances and vituperations back and forth. I guess that's just how their relationship is because neither one was actually mad and both are very nice. Then Ginger turns around and tells me that the "cah ovary" or the car is overheating.
NOTE: when I phonetically spell Thai English I'm not disparaging Thai people, just trying to put you at the scene. I have a lot of respect for them learning English, because I sure don't know any Thai.
So we pull over and sit in the gas station for a while (have I mentioned it's hot in Thailand and I'm in longsleeves and a tie) then we turn around and crawl back to my hotel. FDR and Christopher Reeve have made it over the bridge across the city by now without Chris even flying at all.

Next: I get in a cab for a second try at going over to the school, which is called Kasintorn Academy, a Catholic prep school. To be brief, we get there and the principal has gone home. It was an hour and 15 each way the second time. And the whole time we are listening to music that satan decided was too tormenting even for bottom level of hell. You see, when VH1 compiles their "Worst ten songs of 20__. The artist actually get really excited because that means that they are going to sell lots of records in Asia.
So we sit at stoplights for five minutes at a time. You think I'm kidding? I'm not because during one stop I got to hear all of a Bwitnee Speaws song and part of that Aikon song about being sad and lonely before the light turned green. Oh Aikon, you poor soul, why don't you get the chipmunks to do a loop for it and that will ease your pain. Oh wait, you did use the chipmunks. What an awful song. I would rather hear Gilbert Godfrey and Ms. Piggy sing Don Giovanni. So that was my day.

Then there was my night. You know I would think that a place that says "Pub House" on the sign might have at least one European or American person inside. I've never been more wrong. I'll tell the story next time so you can rest your eyes, but let it suffice for me to say that there was a Thai rock band playing and I was definitely more than a little out of place. Until next time, have a good day friends. I guess you're all sleeping right now though. It's three in the morning back home.

Nord Farkwat (I don't know how the spell it - that guy on Shrek. I've taken to finding creative ways to use Nords. Eh? Eh?)