Ooooo get me away from here I'm dying

Misery is an uninteresting topic so I haven't been writing much. Wouldn't want to bore you guys. All you many numerous people reading this. The last few days have been rough and I don't really know why. I'm having several mini-meltdowns a day and last night found myself furiously pushing the cork into a bottle of red wine because I couldn't find the corkscrew and I needed a goddamned glass of wine. Or five. And it was so stifling in the kitchen I had to pause to dowse myself in lukewarm tapwater like some porny nightmare. Earlier I had fantasies of beating the crap out of other motorists who swerved too close to my motodup. Just like my umbrella beat-down fantasies back in the day, walking home after a long day of working for the hosebeast at NDI. Am I alone in having these thoughts?

Life is so much harder than I will ever imagine for most people in this country - why am I such a goddamned whiner?

I bought a plane ticket. I managed to screw up the timing through sheer carelessness, however, so I'll be spending 20 odd hours in Singapore. Is that enough time to go to the zoo? Although, after forming a deep, personal bond with 3 lady elephants, can any zoo compare?

Please do not murder the fish

Funny picture from Sre Ambel, on the way to Koh Kong.

I think the Khmer says "do not wage war on the fish, please." I love public messaging campaigns.

Things to do in Phnom Penh traffic

On a motodup taxi:

Text message

Pick your teeth

Pretend you are flying on a broomstick

On your colleague Eddy's gigantic, un-muffled, 8 foot tall motorcycle:

Fear for your life

Fear for your shoulder muscles as you grip your seat to prevent toppling off backwards during gear shifting

Think about how weird it is that your thighs are pressed so closely to your boss' boyfriend's because you can't sit side saddle on his bike

Some of the above activities are more fun stoned, so I am told.

Hour 6 of the funeral next door

I've been at my desk all day listening to a Khmer funeral on the loudspeakers next door. Not so much "listening," actually as suffering through, attempting to ignore, and ultimately going every so slightly more insane thanks to. Sometimes it's tinny, tuneless music being played over blown-out speakers, sometimes it's chanting, sometimes it's just one guy yelling a lot. But it's all very, very loud. Head-filling loud. October 28th cannot come quickly enough.

I''m going to go to Bangkok after my last day at work, before Dad arrives for the temple tour. I'll go for a few days to hang out with myself, see the Asian Metropolis I've been looking for. Wander around an air conditioned mall. Look for a Goldfish proprietor. Then I will have had my fill.

"Cambodia" will soon be metaphorical

If you read to the bottom of my last post you may have noticed my mini-bombshell. Yes, I quit. My job and the fellowship. I'm a quitter.

If you've been paying attention or been one of the dozens privy to my angsty emails over the last 2 months you're not surprised. I'm still a little surprised, however.

It came about suddenly, actually. My first day back after the dengue (and my boss' first day in the office after her second 1 month vacation of the summer) she just asked if it was true I was unhappy and that ''it might not be working out?" All I could do was tell the truth. And then it was out there. It didn't follow the schedule of how I planned on working all of this out, but it's done and I feel just a little less burdened with indecision.

I had a moment, over copious wine and samosas at Simply Blue (the swanky new Norodom Blvd bar owned by the oddest forensic psychiatrist/spook/braggart/DC native I have ever met) with coworker/lifesaver Swifty about whether I shouldn't just stick it out cause I probably could. It's true. I could just suck it up and sit here for a year. But damnitol, that is not what I want for the next year of my life. Plus Swifty's last day was yesterday. And I'm sick again. And my TiVo awaits.

I had another moment, too, this time over ginger chicken (Thai food is usually the tastiest option in Phnom Penh) with my dear roommate Fi wherein I was talking about how ''once my job is over, I'll..." And I paused. I literally did that slow realization thing where you start smiling to yourself because you realize you're happy about something you didn't know you were happy about. Like all those times Dawson "the Head" realized he really did love Joey. Just like that.

I am forward-looking. I am progressing. I am getting to somewhere I'd like to be. And soon enough I will be reunited with some of my favorite people in the world, including maybe Koko the Gorilla. She lives in Woodside, don't you know.

I worship my brother

And he's 22! Happy Birthday, Snedly! Snedward, it's your birthday! Happy birthday, Neddo! Nedpeeb, it's your birthday!

In other news I ate some snake on a stick the other day and forgot to mention it. It occurred pre-dengue and therefore millenia ago. Also, the non-rat gifting cat, Belle, despite general misanthropy has taken me as a nursemaid. She has now attempted to suckle from a button on my shirt and random sections of my pyjamas on three occasions. I smell like a mama cat I guess. Gross. Who remembers suckling cat face? Ned? Mom? Molly?

What else? I met an Australian girl who got a boob job in Thailand this summer. She was pretty happy with the results.

And I have some friends, including a nice household of roommates. 2 of whom I think are sleeping together again. Don't worry, Kris, no one in this country reads my blog.

And! I quit.

Internet, you're killing me

Schedule of third world horrors:

Obvious prostitution: weekly

Street intravenous drug use: twice a week

Naked children + garbage: 3 times/week

Evidence of families living in squalor/public/on a construction site: 3-4 times/week

Very public urination: daily to hourly

Foreigner co-workers celebrate cheapness/freedom of their lifestyle: daily

Kept awake by barking dogs and/or construction: nightly

Heat, intense sun, and no relief: hourly

Tortured by slow and/or broken internet connection: every other minute

Oh, it's not all that bad. I thought hey, I haven't written much about the fact that I currently live in the poorest country in SE Asia so I'd share some slice of life details. Also I'm overtired (see dogs, heat). When your valium won't even put you to sleep you're in trouble.

What have we learned?

I fought the protozoa and the protozoa lost. It's like I have an inhuman ability to heal myself! I came back from a 74 platelet count and barely any white blood cells to speak of without a transfusion (or required medevac to Bangkok for said transfusion). It would make anyone feel special. Also, the purple, yellow and green bruise blossoms surrounding my track marks make me feel good about my choice to never, ever become an intravenous drug user. Except for saline solution. Sweet, life-giving 4 bags of saline on Day 4. That was good, after I stopped crying. Not good? Needles. And the incompetent male nurses who wield them at SOS Clinic when digging around INSIDE your arm looking for veins. And failing! Making me cry and cry and reinforcing my needlephobia just when I was starting to get over it.

To be honest, now that I feel tons better, I don't know what to say about the dengue. You sleep and writhe a lot. There's not much to do beside writhe when you're awake because you have no energy and no appetite. Tylenol is surprisingly powerful stuff. Not eating hurts your stomach. Water tastes bad and trying to suck down too many electrolyte solutions when you are dehydrated and undernourished doesn't work and you will feel better once you go to the clinic and let them IV you for a while, even though IVs are scary. Your coworkers and roommates will realize they are your only friends and will rise to the occasion, keeping you supplied with Royal D (it's basically Tang), Saltines, baby food, and bottled water. They will listen to your feverish ramblings about what you were like in high school, how your mom makes toast, apple sauce and scrambled eggs for dinner when you're sick, and how you want to travel across the Arctic with Bear Grylls because he's hot and it's cold there. You'll despair and fear bleeding from the eyeballs.

Now that I have survived a tropical disease that has no cure, does this make me superior somehow? Like maybe a superhero? Ned survived amoebic dysentery, but really, isn't that just a fancy term for shitstorm? Dengue's kinda fun to say, and since most of my memories were destroyed by low blood sugar and febrile malaise I guess I don't feel that bad about it. Still don't want to bleed from my eyeballs, though. That's what happens when you get it again.

BREAKING NEWS!!! (One week old) I HAVE DENGUE

I joked. I feared. I cursed the mosquitoes that haunt my every move. It was all for a laugh. Until last Thursday night when I suddenly felt very faint. The pounding headache and fever followed the next day and here we are, one week later. I have dengue fever. That is all.