So…I’ve been such a slacker, and I’m fully aware of it. I’m kinda sick at the moment, so that sucks. I’ve felt it coming on for the past week, but of course I haven’t slowed down one bit until I came to a crashing halt yesterday morning. I literally laid in bed all day long, only getting up to answer the door when the McDonald’s delivery man knocked. And yes, I ordered a McDonald’s #1 and had it delivered to my apartment…and I ate it all. Judge me. So last week, I thought I could push through the sickness and continue working out for hours everyday, pretending I’m the most hardcore person ever, but no. Sadly that was only a temporary fix, and proved to only be more detrimental in the long run. And, I guess now that I think about it, it probably wasn’t the best idea to stay up until 4am on Saturday watching the England/USA World Cup game at a pub, surrounded by cigarette smoke and yelling Brits. Oh, well…makin’ memories. Don’t care.

So, this past week…I don’t even know where to begin. I’ve been going non-stop, yet I’ve had some time to breathe, so I guess it’s been nice. The long-awaited routine has turned into a monotonous lull I do believe, so I’m gonna need to spice that up on the ASAP. I’m going to the gym and I love working out and taking classes, but I have to avoid the personal trainers like the plague. They seriously stalk me, and they think it’s a great sales tactic to call me fat, thinking that’s going to encourage me to buy their program(s) when, in fact, all it really does is make me want to punch them in the face. Last week, I got called “big” and “fat” several times, and I felt like killing myself when those dang trainers made me do a body-mass-index thing. Um…not a good idea for a girl with curves. Just sayin.

On one fateful day last week, I decided to try an aerobics class. Bad idea. I obviously couldn’t understand anything that was going on, and it was nothing like aerobics in the States. Not only was I the awkward, white giant with thunder thighs among a room full of tiny Asians wearing skin-tight workout clothes who don’t even need to be in an aerobics class, I was also the clumsy, bumbling, fumbling idiot trying to do the freakin cha-cha. THAT’S NOT EVEN AEROBICS! I can honestly say I learned one move…called the cwalk. HA! That’s gotta be a joke right?! Nope. I got the cwalk down, and every time the short, annoying aerobics instructor guy said it, it’s as if the world was mocking me. Needless to say, I was infuriated and peaced out to go do my own thing. As if I wasn’t already in the worst mood ever, a personal trainer started begging me to do his muay thai program. Eventually I was just like, “Ehh…screw it. I’ll do it just to say I’ve done muay thai.” So I let him teach me a few boxing moves, and then said I was done. After calling me fat (of course), he actually asked me how much I weighed, so I guessed about 75 kilos (the whole metric system thing throws me off), and his reply? “Ehh…more like 85.” THAT’S LIKE 190 POUNDS!? YOU’VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!!! So, I politely called him an @$$ and stormed off. (I asked the Lord for forgiveness later…) Well, I had full intentions of going to a step class after that, but my pride was hurt and I was ready to punch every trainer I saw, so I just got my crap and left the gym crying. I don’t know if it was out of spite or self pity, but I even stopped by Dunkin Donuts on the way home and ate my donut on the side of the road in tears. (Yeah, there’s a Dunkin Donuts right by the gym…when was that ever a good idea?!) P.S. That made me miss my wolfpack, so I cried even more.

I guess I’m just so sick of being compared to these tiny Thai girls all over Bangkok. It disgusts me, too, that many white guys won’t even give me the time of day because I’m a curvy, farang (foreign/white) girl and not a skinny Thai prostitute. Actually, you know what…I’m NOT that curvy. I gotta a booty and that’s it! JUDGE ME!!!!! I’m just sayin…it’s a good thing I have absolutely no interest in finding a guy in Thailand…because if I did I would be even more pissed off. Ok…I’m going to save this whole soapbox for another blog post. I don’t even want to get started right now.

So, what else have I done this week? I’m getting involved in my new church, Newsong. I’m going to a Bible Study on Wednesdays, and it’s amazing how much you can learn from just sitting around and discussing the Word with other Christians. I’m really excited about the friendships that will hopefully come out of church, too. I met some super cool people, one of which is me in Thai-boy form. His name is Jonny and seriously people, this guy is so me. I walked in last Wednesday night and dude was freestyling and beatboxing on the mic. He asked for a challenger, so I stepped up and started freestyling, too. Duh. I could only get a few rhymes out before busting out laughing. It was too funny. And to top it off, boy started beatboxing to a Michael Jackson (RIP…haha) song! Um…done-zo! My new best friend. Love it. So anyway, hopefully I’ll be able to start getting really involved with Newsong and maybe lead some worship or work on the website or whatever. I’m so thankful for the talents and gifts God’s blessed me with, and I really hope He’ll allow me to use them to make a difference there.

So, I have another new friend named Joey. He’s from Nashville and of course Taylor Mobley knows him. (Proving once and for all that she knows EVERYONE. Kthx.) The only problem is that he hates Peyton Manning and the Vols, and that’s not really okay with me. Maybe we can still be friends. Haha. We’re talking about going to see the tiger temple this weekend, so that would be great to break the monotony of everyday life. I’ve also decided that I’m going to go down to Koh Tao with Joey and his Thai friend for my July holiday to get certified in scuba diving. That’s on the bucket list, so I’m for sure hitting that up while I can and then making my way down to Australia at some point over the next year to dive in the Great Barrier Reef. Can’t wait!

I really just wish you all were here. I wish you could see everything that I get to see. I wish you could walk down the streets of Bangkok with me and see the homeless people everywhere, begging for food and money. I wish you could smell the awful odor of fish sauce and garbage seeping up from the street vendor carts. I wish you could slip and fall in the rain (like me) when you get caught in a monsoon walking home. I wish you could feel the stress relief of a 2-hour Thai massage. I wish you could trip over rolly backpacks on the way to school while weaving in and out of 5000 boys. I wish you taste the spicy Thai food and experience eating squid, octopus, and tofu. I wish you could be here by my side for everything.

At times, I still can’t believe that I’m here, living and working in Thailand. It’s hard to wrap my mind around the fact that when I’m falling asleep, you’re waking up. It’s weird to think that when I look up at the stars, you can’t see them. I know I shouldn’t, but I countdown the days until I see you again. Please know that I think of you more than I should, but I’m doing my very best to live in the moment…this moment…and I’m continually searching for what God has for me here.

Who knew that my Thai tattoo from January would prove to be such a prophetic symbol. ความอดทน – patience and endurance. Yep…still learning.

I’m out. //Cwalk.