Lasts

This morning I booked passage back to Portland. I leave Bangkok at 530 am local time Saturday morning, and touch down at 730 am Portland time. It's actually a 17 hour trip, but it sounds quick, doesn't it?

The sun just sank and the evening birds have started in; Barry is at class and I am looking around this apartment that has been my home for months, thinking about how it will never be my home again after tonight. Tonight B will come home and we'll go out for a late dinner and come back here and everything will be the way it always has. But then tomorrow I will drag out the suitcases and empty closets and make piles and zip things into leak-proof bags -- I'm a careful packer -- and this home will disappear a little more with every step, to be replaced by rooms full of stuff in transit.

I'm starting to get a little freak on. Just a minor one, but I'm having it nevertheless. I will never live here again. I will never again watch the sun move across the giant tower of the building I can see from our bed. I won't squeak these floorboards dancing to Lionel Ritchie and I won't check my lipstick in the elevator mirrors. When I load out of here in the middle of the baby hours of Saturday morning the doormen will salute me for the last time and when the taxi pulls away Ambassador's Court will be firmly in my past.

The prospect of living without Barry again is a bleak one, and I'm sure I'm focusing on the concrete to avoid the emotional. We have had a honeymoon here, B and I, a resurgence of joy in each other, a renewal of the interest that brought us together almost 10 years ago. It has been a very happy time for us, and leaving each other now will be very sad.

But he has to go to London to finish his MBA program -- it just makes sense for him to finish there. London will look good on his resume and all that. I'd like to go with him, but the financial uncertainty of that situation is more than I can bear. In contrast, April and Stephen already have work waiting for me in Portland. I am SO looking forward to it!

When I land Saturday morning I intend to go directly to a breakfast establishment and order a large stack of pancakes. I'm not the hugest fan of pancakes you ever met or anything, but for some reason I have craved them here -- and they are not to be found. I'm going to eat a lot of pancakes and drink a lot of hot coffee and then go to Amy's and take a shower to get the travel off of me. After that I will make my way to Athena's and start pulling boxes in an effort to put together a winter wardrobe -- at this point I have only open-toed shoes and summer dresses at my disposal.

Sunday I'm marching off to get a phone, and then I'll call you -- I can't wait to see you! In the mean time, email me and we can make plans to get together. Much as I am sad to leave here, I am very very enthusiastic about seeing you again! I have missed your face.

Full Moon Festival

Last week B and I went to the romantic Full Moon Festival in Lumpini Park. We didn't know the back story but we participated anyway.

The night was gorgeous -- a big full moon, clear sky, balmy air. First we bought a little floral arrangement built to float -- there are vendors set up all over and the air is full of the scents of jasmine, marigolds, and incense. We followed the crowd down to the water's edge. There are candles and incense in the floral arrangement, but naturally we had no fire. I managed to communicate our need to a group of nice young men who lit us up, and then we set our flower pot adrift with wishes and love.

The lake was full of hundreds of little love boats all twinkling and trailing sweet smoke in the moonlight -- so beautiful. The next day they were gone.

Cambodia photos

Three days in the jungle in flat shoes

I was a tiny bit leery about going to Cambodia, but I decided to channel Catherine Deneuve in "Indochine" and it turned out to be a very good decision.

We landed in Siem Reap, and the airport is very small. Our plane had propellers, for god's sake. When it parked on the tarmac a woman in a wrapped silk skirt, sandals, and a yellow safety vest led us inside to the visa line. There were about thirty of us on the plane, so counting the officials stamping passports there were about 35 of us in the airport. It was so quiet, and the sun was coming in through the banana leaves -- beautiful. Especially since the forecast had called for rain.

Our guide and our driver met us at the airport and drove us to the hotel. Slowly. The roads are paved, but not very well, and cows and chickens and people on bikes constantly ran across our path. The afternoon light shone through the dust coming up off the road and everything looked gilded.

The Angkor Star Hotel is conveniently located -- just around the corner from the traffic light (which our guide was very proud of) and next door to the Lucky Mart (which our guide was very proud of). It is staffed by the nicest people I've ever met. There are large brass-and-marble ashtrays near the elevators. Every time you approach a door it is miraculously opened for you.

Our room on the fifth and top floor had a huge patio, and we couldn't resist walking outside immediately. As soon as we did, a mosquito flew into our room. Malaria is a problem in Cambodia. We had opted out of taking the malaria-prevention drugs because the side effects sounded horrible -- our plan was to spray ourselves liberally with toxic bug-repelling chemicals and avoid being outside at mosquito time.

Bugs LOVE Barry -- remember that horrible incident in Ayudiyah? So as soon as he saw the mosquito he ran inside and slammed the door. I then proceeded to DEET the hell out of him. I made the mistake of not covering our drinks first -- I am here to say that DEET tastes like very bitter lemon. Yuck.

Our room came equipped with bottled drinking water, but we knew we'd need some to take to the temples the next day so we headed out to Lucky Mart. It's actually a small two-story mall. Lucky Mart is a surprisingly well-stocked grocery store holding down the first floor, along with a souvenir shop and a cosmetic boutique. Upstairs is Lucky Burger and a home electronics store. The merchandising is very straightforward -- they put open boxes of stuff in the windows!

We walked out a little further for dinner the first night, to a place down the street called Nest. There is a Nest in Bangkok, too. It's a lovely, airy dinner-and-drinks establishment with a great graphic for the logo, white curtains, stretched lycra roof, and beds to recline on whilst imbibing. The one in Bangkok is on a rooftop. The Cambodian one is open-air. There are small benches around the ponds, and the benches are lit from underneath. From an event manager perspective, the place is amazing! And the food is good, too. We both had Cambodian specialties -- I had a green mango salad and B had a curry.

Our guide was due at the hotel at 8 am, so we wanted to get to bed early -- but first we had to check out Cambodian tv. We saw a video of the Lionel Ritchie song "Say You, Say Me" that was translated in the verses but English in the chorus, and 100% hilarious -- soft focus, butterflies, and meadows. We also saw a strong-man competition, CNN, and something that appeared to be an Asian version of CSI dubbed from one Asian language to another. Badly.

Our room came with "AFB" -- American full breakfast -- so the next morning we made our way to the dining room to see what that meant. The dining room is like something out of an old movie. It's big and quiet, with heavy dark furniture and white tablecloths and lots of waiters. The coffee was good, the noodles were good, the hot dogs cut into little floral shapes were weird, and the pineapple pancakes were divine.

Our guide and our driver picked us up and we headed out. Before we could go to the temples we had to get tickets -- there is a huge operation in a government building that deals with this. It costs $20 and takes just long enough for them to snap your picture and print it onto a pass, and then we were on our way.

The temples are amazing. Words cannot express how enormous they are, how intricately and extensively carved, how truly overwhelming the experience of looking up at a three-story rock face -- a face! Four of them! One facing each direction -- can be. Changrong, our guide, is extremely knowledgeable about the temples, and showed us many many things we would have missed on our own. And our wonderful driver dropped us close to everything and magically appeared again when we were done at a site.

It is astonishing to think of how the temples were built, how much labor and time and assorted resources went into them. For example, there is a moat 250 meters wide, 15 meters deep, and about five miles long around Angkor Wat. Can you imagine digging that??

We saw the temple that made an appearance in "Tomb Raider," apparently -- it has a 400-year-old tree of astonishing stature growing right on top of it. We saw a mural about 200 meters long and 10 meters high that depicted a story starring Hanuman the Monkey God. You could see the horses' teeth and the bite marks on the soldiers from the monkey warriors. I'm telling you, it is breath-taking.

The original Buddha statues had all been beheaded by Thai soldiers hundreds of years ago during wars, or else the heads had been removed by looters. For whatever reason, any remaining original Buddhas had replacement heads. There were altars set up around some of these statues in some of the temples, and I said some prayers and waved some incense and made a few Namaste bows. I prayed for all of you, and I prayed for increased gratitude for all the blessings in my life -- and you are chief among them.

Lunch was at an open-air restaurant in the jungle. It had a roof made of thatch and weird old plastic boxes on the supporting posts that held packs of off-brand cigarettes -- I think for the patrons' smoking pleasure? We each ordered Cambodian food again -- it came served in coconuts! Very very tasty -- basically curries. A gentleman two tables down availed himself of the proffered cigarettes, but the lazy overhead fans blew the smoke out into the trees so he didn't disturb our meal at all.

At one of the temples we saw in the afternoon there was a band made up of men who had been injured by land mines -- they are still a big problem in Cambodia. I'm a soft touch for musicians at the best of times, so I gave them some money. Up until then I had been adamant about resisting all the sweet little children hawking wares -- I'm a hard-hearted bastard but Barry is much nicer, and I could hear him behind me almost buckling at the knees as he refused to buy things from the cute kids begging him for a sale. Poor B! Eventually he broke down and got a t-shirt. The girl he bought it from had a sister selling postcards, and I couldn't let the postcard kid leave empty-handed, could I? So you'll all be getting postcards from the temples!

We toured until I started to feel like I couldn't squeeze one more gorgeous view into my head, and then it was over and we went back to the hotel. I tipped the driver and Barry tipped the tour guide and they both seemed genuinely surprised, grateful, and delighted. The preferred currency in Cambodia is the US dollar, not the Cambodian riel, so I think they were extra pleased because we gave them US money.

We were very hot and very dirty -- the temples and the jungles are not very clean. They sound wonderful, though -- as you walk along you hear frogs and crickets and birds and monkeys. And there are butterflies EVERYWHERE! My favorite one is purplish-black, as big as my hand, with scalloped edges on her wings.

Our hotel had an inviting pool, which turned out to be saltwater -- I love that, you feel so buoyant it's hardly an effort to stay afloat! The swim-up bar was not operating as it's the off-season right now, but we did have the whole pool to ourselves, and we lolled in it for quite a while.

Feeling much revived we turned our minds toward food and drink. Not necessarily in that order. First we took ourselves back to Lucky Mart, where -- for the princely sum of $7 -- we bought a bottle of Johnnie Walker. After consuming most of it on the patio, we headed out for food. A tuk-tuk driver who had been chatting us up every time he saw us finally got some business out of us -- he drove us down to Pub Street, not very far from our hotel and the local tourist area. We strolled along until we saw something that looked good. The place was all orange and gold inside -- if you can call it "inside" -- orange curtains billowing in the breeze, brass candle holders, mirrors. Again we went with Cambodian food -- B had something curry-ish (surprise!) and I had duck.

Next door was the band we'd seen during the day, and they seemed to remember us and waved. I gave them more money. I couldn't help it. The band was sitting in front of a place that offered fish pedicures -- you sit on the edge of the pool and tiny fish nibble at your toes. Seriously. It doesn't sound appealing to me, but I know that Jen is eager to try it!

We strolled some more, shared an ice cream, and walked back to the hotel. More dust rising up off the pot-holed streets, more urchins begging us to buy something from them, more crazy low-speed traffic. You can feel very safe in traffic there because it can go only so fast due to the road conditions!

In the shower that night I forgot for a minute that you absolutely cannot drink the tap water, and got some in my mouth. When I remembered I spit, of course, and I'm happy to report that it must have been a low-microbial-count day, because I didn't get a horrible jungle disease. Or else I was protected by Johnnie Walker.

In the morning we had the AFB again -- this time it included a rice dish and fried pineapple rings along with the usual hot dog florets, toast, etc. The pineapple was dipped in a tempura-like batter and then fried -- good LORD was it tasty! Cooks among you, please figure out how to make these for me? Thank you.

Our driver met us in the lobby and drove us slowly back to the airport. We didn't want to go! When we went about the process of leaving we discovered that it costs $25 to leave Cambodia. No idea why, and none of the reading we'd done about visiting Siem Reap mentioned it. Nevertheless, a cheerful man in a uniform behind a glass window under a banana tree required $25 from anyone leaving Cambodia. So there you have it.

Our flight -- one of four at the airport that day! -- was delayed by half an hour, so we had more time to peruse the offerings in the airport shops. We had fun looking at all the junk available and noting how ridiculously high the prices were at Duty Free. I hadn't brought perfume with me -- mosquitoes! -- and they didn't have No. 5 so I contented myself with spraying on a generous amount of Yves St. Laurente's "Paris," which I love.

Once again we were on a tiny plane. The flight attendant looked like an Asian Phoebe Cates. When we landed in Bangkok it was like we had been gone for weeks -- all the bustle and steel seemed so loud and cold and urban after the banana trees and monkeys and golden dust. We caught a cab and luckily hit no traffic. Came home and got in the pool.

I unpacked my suitcase and found the postcards -- every one pictured a place we'd been, something spectacular we had actually experienced. I wish I could convey more of it -- not just the ruins but the people, most of whom have lived through civil war, and the countryside, which still bears testament to war, and the free-range livestock and the begging children and the dust and heat and jungle noise. You have to go, and soon, because more and more people go every year, and before long it will be Bangkok. And as they say, "You've seen one crowded dirty city, you've seen them all."

Sweetness

Have you ever had a moon cake? They come out every fall for the Chinese Moon Festival and they are strange and delicious -- sweet sticky lotus paste around an egg yolk, all wrapped in a lovely lotus-shaped crust. I like the ones with two yolks -- they are supposed to be extra lucky -- but the varieties are wide now: fruitcake, chocolate, black sesame, cream puff, etc.

I'm also all about the namaste right now. "Namaste" is a Sanskrit word that means "the Divine in me salutes the Divine in you." It means that all the love, compassion, and joy in me stands up and waves at all that in you, with appreciation and celebration. It also means hello, and can mean goodbye. Traditionally it is used to end yoga classes, and I always used to use it as my bank password back in the days when you actually spoke your password to a teller in a bank -- seemed like a nice thing to say to someone!

Last night I woke up thinking about "namaste" and all its meanings. I've been struggling with some things lately, change, loss, uncertainty -- just the usual angst of existence. I've been at a loss for words -- you know how rare that is for me! "Namaste" floated into my head and I realized it was all I had to say. Hello, I salute the Divine in you, in change, in loss, in uncertainty, I say goodbye with love -- that's everything, right there, in a tidy and peaceful package.

Between the moon cakes and the namaste I am filled with sweetness today. I have stopped struggling because I have been reminded that everything changes, that seeking to hold something causes suffering, that loving with an open heart is the only way to do it, that all you can do against passive aggression is let go, and that all you can really do for someone is release them to be what they will. Most important, I've been brought back to the present moment. I am not caught in memory of the past or hopes for the future. I am here, in Ambassador's Court, while Barry works on a research paper and the Thai sun shines. It's a beautiful day.

Bourbon and Tequila

Today Barry and I went to Coyote's for lunch -- it is a Mexican restaurant in the middle of Silom Soi Convent -- right down the street from two convents. We ordered margaritas -- two for one on Saturday afternoons, how lucky! First we had some lime and chili deal, but it was too spicy for B, so then we ordered the Kentucky Margarita. OMG -- LOVE LOVE LOVE!!!! It is tequila, lime juice, and BOURBON -- three of my favorite things in one glass. And then it started to rain, and I mean MONSOON, so we had to stay for a while, so we got drunk.

I want to bring the Kentucky Margarita to Portland. You'll thank me.

Movies in Bangkok

We went to see "9" a few days ago. The movie was meh, but the movie-going EXPERIENCE was something else.

The theater complex is huge -- there are 17 theaters, an IMAX theater, a bowling alley, a full bar, and a snack bar. The lobby is enormous and full of boards that blink and flash and tell you stuff, like what movie when and how much it costs for the deluxe "Enigma" seat.

After you have decoded the movie/time/theater/seating available matrix you proceed to the ticket line. Each counter is equipped with a computer screen that allows you to see what seats are still available for the movie of your choice, and you reserve a seat when you buy a ticket. We opted for the love seat, which had some fancy silly name that I've forgotten. From there you can avail yourself of the refreshments, but bear in mind that NONE of them are allowed INTO the theater. People go the movies and have drinks and popcorn before the show.

Our love seat selection was a good one -- a huge cushy sofa that came equipped with two blankets, because the AC is set at about 33 degrees F in the theater. We were right in the middle in the back -- perfect seats. And then the movie started.

Oh. My. GOD!!! It was the loudest thing next to a jet engine that I have heard lately. I actually moved to cover my ears. It HURT. I got used to it, but there was never a time during the movie when I was unaware of the fact that the sound was too goddamned loud. Where's Stew Dodge when you need him??

The trailers go on forever. Or at least it seems like it -- a good 30 minutes, anyway. Hey, doesn't "Sorority Row" look like a winner? Ew! But I do want to see "District 9."

After the movie we stood up feeling sort of stunned, and straggled out with the other dozen or so people who had watched the movie with us. We were a bit deaf and disoriented, and then we hit the lobby. Again I have to say: Oh. My. GOD!! When we bought our tickets there were 20 people in the lobby. When we got out of the theater there were HUNDREDS. It was packed. We managed to learn a lesson the easy way, for a change: go to movies in Bangkok before 7 pm unless you enjoy a good mobbing.

Still not sure what the "Enigma" is all about -- further research required, report to be filed at a later date.

Kenzo show

Think Russia Meets Mongolia. Cossacks and Tribal Horsemen. Fur and brocade and brightly colored, roughly woven, mirror-studded fabric. Rose-patterned silk and thick leather belts. Muted colors and flapper beading. Delicate and sturdy. Earthy and gorgeous. All this, apparently, is what Antonio Marras had in mind when he put together the Fall/Winter 09-10 collection for Kenzo.

What we saw:

Mustard, teal, aubergine, russet, maroon, pumpkin

Fabrics thick with mirrors and metallic threads

Glittery mirrored brocade and velvet

Wrapped robe jackets, dresses, and vests

Nubby sweaters, cropped and oversized

Cossack pants with tight legs, buttons from the knee down

Hip interest in trow -- pleats and voluminous pockets

Pegged ankles

Dresses in thin knits and/or damask with drop waists

Longer skirts

Quilted hems on skirts and cropped trow

Square shoulders

Puffy sleeves

Seamless shoulders with drape

Empire waists

Deep cowl draping at necks

Neck wraps

Floral 3D crochet appliques on knit dresses and boiled wool jackets

Heavy 1920s-style beading on bodices

Fur hems and collars

Fringe hems and collars

Asymmetric random gathering on skirts and dresses

Suede platform stilettos

Platform mules

Opaque hose

For evening, gray, brown, and black gowns in silk with thick leather belts and neck wraps, some with double and triple skirts in different lengths

Eyes were lined and lips were matte

For men:

Brown, maroon, taupe, and gray

Large windowpane plaids

Small scale to suits: shorter cuffs and trow, close fitting

Long, thin-gauge sweaters under suit coats and cardigans

Large cable-knit cardigans with belts in dark colors

Square, unpadded shoulders

Wrinkled matte stretch jersey with a slight sheen

Duffle coats in shorter lengths

Fur collars

The show closed with Kate Bush's "Babushka," which is one of my favorites. It gets stuck in my head.

Barry and I were photographed some more, and spoke with some of the Kenzo people -- or maybe they were some of the fashion show crew? We all smiled a lot and didn't really understand each other very well, but had a lovely time. (Communication that would have been sketchy at best is being further hampered these days by the fact that Mercury is retrograde until September 29. Mark your calendars and sit tight until then.)

In summation, this season you can expect to wear whatever the hell you like that looks good on you and makes you feel beautiful and COMFORTABLE. I have spoken.

Escada show

Things I can say with confidence this season: platforms, any shade of red, hip interest, structured, ladylike, and drape. I saw all that two nights running and expect to see more tonight at Kenzo -- stay tuned. After I've seen everything I can formulate an over-all theme.

Last night's Escada show wasn't a glittery as Ferragamo's -- no champagne and fewer Hi-So 'Fros. Nevertheless, B and I had a great time, were photographed, and wangled good seats. Still no swag bags.

I wore a black Italian sheath with satin trim and X-top Charles Jourdan sandals. B wore a navy pin-stripe suit and a violet shirt. I gave myself a Hi-So 'Fro that would have made Texas proud, and off we went.

What we saw:

Camel, brown, aubergine

A sort of "camouflage" print in brown and aubergine on camel

Platform shoes with stiletto heels in colors ranging from red through all the wines right up to aubergine -- RTB, your new red boots could not be more au courant!

Fur -- collars, hats, trim on sleeves and hems

Bell sleeves

Cropped jackets

Drape. pleat, and tuck details at the hip on skirts and trow

Long ruched gloves

Double skirts -- a short pencil skirt under a shorter flirty skirt

Trench coats

Long breaks on trow

Half-belted dresses

Structured, architectural boat and funnel necks

Square but not padded shoulders, sometimes with pleating

For evening, ruched tops with empire waists and long draping in the front and/or back a la Givenchy circa 1978 and an anomalous lavender bubble dress with pockets -- beautiful but Easter-eggy and I had to wonder where it came from!

Shiny lips, geisha eyeliner, and hair slicked back into chignons at the nape

The fabrics were gorgeous: silk georgette, silk jersey, wools jersey, quilted silk in saturated colors. And don't get me started on the fur. I love fur, and I'm sorry if that hurts you. I promise not to buy any that wasn't dead before I was born, ok? That being said, I need a mink hat!

Ferragamo Runway Show

Tonight I went to my first Bangkok fashion show -- Ferragamo. Salvatore Ferragamo is known for gorgeous leather goods, especially shoes. Amy has a spectacular pair I found for her at Goodwill -- pale brown pumps that look like sports cars, all sleek and sculptural and classic. That being said, guess what I had on my feet for the show? That's right, baby -- a pair of Nine Wests!

I laughed to myself all the way to the show. You can get a pair of Nine Wests at Marshall's, for god's sake. They are not what you'd call a luxury good. Nevertheless, the pair I chose was comfortable, stylish, and complemented my dress (a black Jil Sander) -- you couldn't tell by looking they were low budget. Good thing I was wearing them, too, because I ended up walking part of the way home after fighting with a cab driver -- unscrupulous bastard! He told me his meter was broken and that it would cost me 290 baht to get home -- in actuality it should cost about 70. We yelled at each other in different languages for a while, and when we were close enough for me to walk In These Shoes I just got out. I'm glad I wasn't wearing delicate shoes. Good old Nine West!

Anyway, the show. Here's what we saw:

Maroon, navy, mauve, gray

Draping at the neck and shoulder

Three-quarter sleeves with interesting diagonal hems

Long gloves and arm warmers

Platform booties with stiletto heels

Lots of pleating at the hip for pants and skirts

Cropped pants full in the thigh and narrow at the bottom

Moc croc velvet

For evening, back interest draping on gowns and deep open peeks into the cleavage from demure necklines -- think one big decolletage slit

Lips were RED and hair was slick on top, side parted, and pulled long down the back

For men:

Maroon, navy, ivory, gray

Classics -- pea coats, duffels, bombers, with interesting details like metal clasp fasteners and banded waists

Wooly scarves at the neck

Extra long break in trow

For evening, a velvet tuxedo worn with maroon velvet loafers

As fashion shows everywhere tend to do, this one started late. I was alone, since B had school, so I spent a lot of time drinking champagne (pretty good champagne, too, I have to say!) and looking at everybody else. I got to see some real live "Hi-So 'Fros," or High Society Afros -- the doyennes of Bangkok Society (the cap "S" is intentional) favor big teased hair-dos, and the more money they have, apparently, the bigger their hair gets (if only that worked on my Jew Fro!). They each had a young gay escort and they all (escorts included) carried Hermes Birkins. The great damn big ones.

When they announced the show was opening I simply walked in. Since the announcement was in Thai I had no idea what was said, and I took advantage of that to blithely breeze in with what I assume were the reserved seat holders. Nobody stopped me and I got a good seat. I would have gotten a swag bag, too, except there weren't any. Not bad for a pair of Nine Wests.

Autumn makes me think

Let's get one thing clear: it's always summer in Bangkok. From September through March it is about 85 or 90 degrees F, sunny, clear, beautiful. April it gets v v hot -- temperatures of up to 115 degrees F are not unheard of. May through August it rains. When it doesn't rain the sky is often gray, and it's humid. It is almost unbearable, sticky, cloyingly humid and the temperature ranges from 90 to 100 degrees F.

Well, it's September and autumn is coming to Bangkok. The days are clearer and sunnier and there's an unmistakable yet ineffable sense of change. I feel the sadness of closing up the summer house, even though I'm not. Although I'm halfway around the world, I AM in the northern hemisphere and it IS fall and I DO notice.

Combine the seasonal weather with Scott's death and you have a recipe for melancholia. Things change, all the time. One of the most fundamental teachings of yoga is that nothing lasts, and god knows I've spent enough time lying on my mat with tears rolling into my ears as I thought about it. People come and go. Babies are born, friends die, circumstances change, people move, nothing lasts. I wouldn't want it to, but every now and then I do the Lot's wife thing and look back. Not much, not often, but it happens to all of us, me included. I look back.

I spent the afternoon wandering the city. It was a gorgeous day and now it's becoming a beautiful evening -- there is a long and gentle gloaming in Bangkok, the sun seems to settle more than set. It sinks down slow, enjoying the slide, and the light fades and the birds make all their crazy noises and the bats come out. It's lovely.

I spent the afternoon thinking about Scott. When I met him he was dee-RUNK. It was at a show at what used to be called O'Connors, down on 2nd Avenue in Portland -- I think Chiva Knevil was playing. Scott came up to me and said, "Hi, I'm Scott, and I'm an asshole!" I liked to point out to him in later years that he had never let me down on that front, but I said it with admiration and respect. Scott was the best kind of asshole, the kind that says what he thinks and tells you where he stands and calls a spade a spade (why do we say that??). And a rake a rake, for that matter. We got along and I loved him.

I spent the afternoon praying for Stacy. I have two prayers: thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou and helpmehelpmehelpmehelpme. I said them both. Thank you for letting Stacy and Scott have each other. Help them to deal with the separation, give them the grace and strength to do whatever comes next. Feel free to join me in the praying -- no worries on my end regarding to whom your prayers are directed.

Now I'm spending some time with you, missing you, wishing you were here to talk with me about all of this, and about all there is to come. Another move to another country. Another climate change, a different wardrobe. More travel, more exciting surprises, more things to learn. Which reminds me: I need to buff up my French and will be looking for a tutor when I get back to Portland. Let me know if you know anyone.

You and I may never see each other again, or we may live together next year. You might become a parent and drop out of the world for a while, or you could enter a monastery. You might start a new business that hits just right and become fabulously wealthy, or one of us could get hit by a bus. It's all so frangible, life is so tenuous, the future is so wide open!

I recently finished re-reading "One Hundred Years of Solitude" by the incomparable Sr. Gabriel Garcia Marquez. At the very end you realize that the pages being deciphered throughout the book tell the tale of the pages being deciphered throughout the book, and just as they become clear we are able to read about the end of it all as it ends -- it is breathtaking. And that is where we all are, deciphering our stories at the same time we spin the tale of ourselves deciphering our stories.

Life is so short. Go tell someone you love them. And do something fun today. I love YOU. xo

Scotland Barr Moritz

Scotland Barr Moritz was a great musician, a true friend, and a wondrous human. He made great hot sauce, too. We had to give him back today, but we get to keep the music.

Please say a prayer, however and to whomever you pray, for Scott and his wife Stacy.

You can listen to him here and learn more about him here.

I love Scott and I'm proud to have known him. The world is better because we had him with us, even for a little while.

Hold the phone!

Don't you just love it when they yell that in old movies? "Hold the phone!" What's that mean???

In this case, it means "Guess what! I might be coming back to Portland, at least to get a sweater!!" Barry is considering doing a semester or more at one of Webster University's European campuses (campii?) -- Amsterdam, Geneva, Vienna, or London -- and I don't have any clothes with me suitable for the chill of northern Europe.

Thai mosquitoes

Ok, so, we already know that mosquitoes don't care for me but think that Barry is the most delectable thing ever. What we didn't know is that Thai mosquitoes got that memo in spades.

We came back from the lake at Ayudiyah and B was covered with bites. He has, without exaggeration, about 400 bites -- mostly on his feet. It looks like he has leprosy. Me? Not even one.

Ayudiyah

We just returned from a weekend in Ayudiyah, which is the old capitol of Thailand. There is a beautiful lake there, and a gorgeous resort, and lots and lots of water-centric activities. We mostly sat in the shade and drank, and we had a marvelous time!

Barry wore his blue and gold tourist shirt -- it makes his eyes look like lapis lazuli.

We were drinking Scotch as we waited for the resort shuttle, and this being Thailand it was late -- you can imagine what happened! And that is the only explanation I have for this pink picture that must have been taken in the shuttle.

The resort had a beautiful pool surrounded by a virtual jungle of greenery.

Here is a great shot of the curtains in our room. The hows and whys of this particular view can also be attributed to the Scotch!

We went to a party on the lake that evening. This blurry picture of Barry pretty much sums up how I was feeling by the time I took it -- double vision-ed. I must have fiddled with the camera somehow to make the party look all pink, but again -- no idea, so giving credit to Scotch.

The party was for our friends Laura and Brock, who will be moving to Portland in September. Please watch for them!

While we were carousing at the lake a tremendous thunderstorm blew up -- apparently I tried to record it, because I found this movie the next day. It's not terribly exciting, but you can see the lightning. It rained so hard the lawn turned into a rice paddy and we nearly had to swim out of there. I was wearing silver shoes, so you can imagine I wasn't extra happy about the mud. Fortunately, a long shower later my shoes were returned to their original shiny glory so nobody had to cry. xo

Five Stars

This is the Sheraton Grande Sukhumvit Hotel, a five-star Starwood property on Sukhumvit Road. Barry and I had dinner here last night to belatedly celebrate the birthday I spent in flight over the Pacific last month.

This is the lobby -- the picture doesn't do it justice. The colors are warmer and richer in person, the air is ever so lightly perfumed by the giant flower arrangements, the lighting is perfection, and there is a jazz band in the corner to entertain you.

This is the dining room, and again the picture falls far short of the reality. You cannot believe how flattering the lighting is -- we both looked two inches taller, 10 pounds thinner, and five years younger. Wait staff hovers just beyond too close, waiting to do everything except chew for you. The food is divine, the band is sublime, and our window table gave us a view of Sukhamvit, which looked lovely and sparkly and urban in the dark.

The highlight of the evening was when Barry sent three tiny roasted onions flying out into the night when his knife slipped as he cut into a truly enormous steak (best guess: two pounds of meat). We tipped a little extra to make up for it!

Miscellany

Omg, where would I be without Facebook?? Since I've been in Thailand babies have been born, dogs have died, jobs have changed, houses have been bought and sold, kids have learned to walk, hair has been shorn, hearts have been broken, and new leaves have been turned. All on Facebook.

Barry started back to school today and I started looking for a job. Ok, I got a mani/pedi and some waxing -- but those are necessary for employment.

It's been raining. We've been woken up by thunder cracks and very bright lightning two nights in a row now, with rain coming down like buckets of water being thrown at the windows. It's quite exciting, and reminds me of that time Amy and I experienced the hurricane at the beach -- by largely sleeping through it. Admittedly there was some wine involved. And come on -- we DID get up and look out the window.

I've discovered that Lumpini Park offers not only Jazzercise but also House-ercise, Cool Hits of the 70s-ercise, and Avril Lavigne-ercise, as well as Tae Bo. I've also discovered that at dusk the bats come out and swoop around the park eating bugs. Crazy numbers of bats, and very close to one's freshly coiffed red head -- which can be a little alarming, but so far I've yet to see a bat carry anybody off by her hair.

You know how you never know what you're going to miss until you're gone? You know what I miss? Pancakes. How pedestrian of me. Nevertheless, that's what I long for, so yesterday I bought some mix and this morning I made pancakes. Now, I've never actually MADE pancakes before -- but I've seen it done. It took me a few cakes to get my technique down, but I managed, and we ate pancakes until we were good and happy about it. Can you imagine it? I cooked!

And then I left all the pans -- and I'm afraid it took me many -- in the sink, because tomorrow Som comes and cleans up after us!! She will take away the laundry and bring back little towers of ironed panties. She will change the sheets. She will sweep the balcony with her funny little twig broom and dust between our surfaces and the crap we have piled on them, and then she will go away and maybe leave us tiny bananas as a present. I heart Som.

And I heart you, too, and miss you. Call. Write. Come visit. Facebook me! xoxo

New hair

I got my first Thai haircut, and it turned out great! I was very worried, because my natural hair condition is what Stephen and Jeremy fondly refer to as "Jew-fro." My hair could could not be MORE different than Thai hair. Theirs is all straight, thick, and slippery; mine is curly, fine, and frizzy. It's a lot longer wet than dry and I was afraid that a Thai stylist might not know that, thus cutting my hair too short and sending me out into the humidity to quickly become Ronald McDonald.

The stylist spent about six minutes cutting and about 45 drying -- she COOKED the hell out of my hair. It was absolutely straight when I left the salon, and it's already curling up 30 minutes later. I had to show you how it looks straight, because it won't happen again -- I have neither the skills nor the patience to reproduce this.

Rain

Today I got caught in the rain, and it was fabulous! We were walking home and the rain started to fall very lightly and gently, which was fine except it sort of steams on the sidewalk and you feel like dirty air is swirling up onto you. If you don't think about what's in the rising vapor it's fine, but I have seen some things on those sidewalks -- ew.

So we're walking and we're laughing about how we're trying not to think about the dirty street breath getting on us, when the sky opened and the rain came DOWN! We were immediately wet to the skin. It's like stepping into a shower. We were half a block from home and there was no saving us -- we were soaked! We just laughed and held our hands up to the sky -- it's the most amazing feeling to have so much water pouring on you in the middle of the sidewalk in the middle of the day in the middle of what was actually a tiny little tropical rainstorm! We passed our friendly noodle guy, and he kindly offered us an umbrella -- but it was way too late. The girls in the massage salon on our street laughed and gave us thumbs up as we went by. Our doormen scrambled to get us brollies at first, but then realized we were way past their efforts.

It was wonderful!

Titanium

More cocktail party action -- last night we went to one at the Erowon Hotel -- some international networking function. Surprisingly fun! I wore that new black Calvin Klein dress and it was a big hit.

Afterward we went to a club called Titanium. It has an Ice Bar, and not just some cheesy slab of ice with a vodka luge in it. This is Bangkok and they are not playing. At Titanium you are greeted by bar girls in stylized chong sams of various colors and degrees of translucency. You are assigned a herd of them -- exactly how many depends upon how many men are in your party.

They escort you upstairs to a big heavy metal door. A tall and unsmiling man in long sleeves opens the door -- ka-CHUNK -- and cold mist comes wafting out. You can almost hear it sigh. They hustle you inside and close the door behind you. Now you and your party are in the care of the bartender. He feels free to smile and explain the flavors of vodka available -- besides the usual citron and pomegranate you can choose things like mint, chocolate, bubble gum, and tutti frutti.

The glasses are chilling on the Ice Bar -- which is a bar made entirely of ice. There are no seats -- it's too cold in there to stay long. We came in out of a 90 degree night and as soon as we got into the Ice Bar I started shivering -- it is SERIOUSLY COLD in that room. I had my shot of mint vodka and made for the door, feeling like I'd just swilled half a bottle of Scope jello.

The bar girls were waiting when we came out -- customers don't range freely in this joint -- not the men, anyway! They took us down to the main floor and gave us a big corner cocktail table with about a million pillows on the sofas. You had to sort of burrow into them to get a purchase on the seat. It felt pretty good at first, since I was half frozen from the Ice Bar experience.

We had come to see the house band -- famous because it is made up of six tiny Thai girls. Who RAWK, as they say. This being Bangkok, they are a cover band, but they are very good at what they do and it's entertaining to watch their tiny little arms and legs flailing away around instruments as big as they are.

It's also very entertaining to watch the men get hooked and reeled in and landed by the bar girls. First they talk politely, then she leans into him, then he puts his hand on her back, then they dance a little shoulder to shoulder. Then she starts humping his leg and soon they are making their arrangements for the evening, which usually entail Mr. Casanova paying some sort of fee so she can "leave work early." Interesting system.

From Titanium we took a stroll -- always exciting in 4" heels, absolutely thrilling on the treacherous sidewalks in this town. Fortunately, I'm not new here -- to tall shoe-ville, I mean -- so I didn't break a heel OR an ankle, and we made it to Mojo's without incident.

Mojo's is famous for their "coyote girls." Coyote girls, as far as I can tell, are teenagers in spangled underwear and white boots dancing on the bar. It is HILARIOUS. You haven't laughed until you've laughed at a Thai girl trying to be "sexy" in a soft porn kinda way. I'm afraid the coyote girls received extra helpings of gawky and not nearly enough sultry. It made me cringe, and you KNOW how I hate that.

The coyote girls dance to live music provided by the house band. Apparently Barry has been to Mojo's before, because when I came out of the loo I found that the band had invited him and Mike up to play -- and there they were, smacking the drunken hell out of "Hey, Joe" while coyote girls spastically and arrhythmically flung themselves about. This called for more alcohol, so I had some.

Aaaand SCENE!

The way we live now

Here are some pictures of our building -- out of order because I can't figure out how to use the damn program and I'm tired of messing with it! This first one is the view as you come up the stairs from the pool through the breezeway. The background of this temple art is Lapis Lazuli -- brilliant blue stone with tiny gold flecks.
More temple art masquerading as decor.

A detail of the picture above -- stone Pekingese.
And yet more temple art -- this is the landing down from our floor. Antiquities everywhere in the building -- it's crazy.

Seats by the pool. Those are banana trees to the left. They bear tiny sweet bananas the size of my fingers. Our maid, Som, occasionally brings us bunches of them.
The deep end of the pool, The tree on the left bears beautiful white lily-like flowers, and there's a pink one right next to it out of the frame. The blossoms drop into the pool so you find yourself swimming through flowers -- it's gorgeous.
The silver orb in this picture is the filtration system for the pool. It looks like it fell off of Sputnick, so that's what we call it.
A view of the pool with the building behind it.
This is the view as you come around the corner of the breezeway and approach the pool -- so inviting on a hot day!
This is a doorway decoration from an ancient temple. It hangs on the second-floor landing in our building.
This is our lobby trash can -- it's brass and copper and they polish it every day.
This is our mailbox -- the very back of each box is mirrored, as well as the trim around the edges. You can see me in my white dress reflected in the glass.
The mailboxes - I think they're teak.
The front steps of our building.
Entrance to the lobby. Note the temple arch above the doorway.
Lobby chandelier.
This is an example of the flora in our courtyard. There's a lot of it.
These are some of the doormen -- note their snappy uniforms. They are always running to get us taxis, carry our packages, and just generally ease our passage through this world in any way they can.
This is the gate into our courtyard. It has to be operated manually, as is being done here.
We live in Ambassador's Court, which is actually on maps of Bangkok because real Ambassador's used to frequent the joint.

Green Papaya Salad

It's my favorite thing, next to you, and now I've learned to make it so I can have it any time I want and B won't have to beg me to go someplace other than a Thai restaurant for food.

You have to shred or finely chop the green papaya, and I cut myself only once in the process. Then you add this ridiculously hot chili sauce, fish sauce (better than it sounds -- kind of sweet), lime juice, salt, garlic, and, if you're me, more chilis. If my eyes aren't tearing it needs more chili!

I had it for dinner last night and breakfast today, and I may have it for lunch as well. It's that good.

A day and night

Yesterday we went to Chinatown, and promptly got lost. We had the best time wandering around the city! We found a street where people sit on the sidewalk next to bags of spice -- literally BAGS of cinnamon sticks, chili, cumin -- giant bags, too, half the size of a sleeping bag. Bags that make you think "cargo."

Eventually we got into a taxi with a crazy old coot (technical term) who laughed and laughed, took us over a bridge, then tapped his watch and shook his head to indicate that no, after all, he COULD NOT take us to our destination at that time of day. We just laughed, too, because it was so ludicrous! He took us OVER A RIVER out of our way and then deposited us on the side of what amounts to a freeway in the middle of back-alley Bangkok! We walked around for a while and finally found a pedestrian bridge back over the river to the side we started on.

From the bridge we could see some of the grand old houses along the river -- some are actually villa-like and palatial, and put me in mind of Venice. The river is about as dirty as the Venetian canals, too -- ew. My guess is pestilential.

While trying to figure out where we were we stumbled upon the flower market -- omg, it was gorgeous and smelled like heaven. They use tuberose to make necklaces and chains to place on altars here, and the smell is divine. Lots of roses and chrysanthemums and marigold, too, adding up to the sweetest, spiciest, freshest perfume -- and you don't often hear about streets that smell good here!

From the flower market we found our way to Kao San Road, which is a street market--heavy part of town rife with student backpackers and low-budget tourists. It's like a long shakedown street -- all kinds of crap available for inflated prices. It's the kind of place you have to see once, so we toured it. Found a bar with a big patio and had some beers while the light faded.

Flush with hops and barley we decided to stop by Saxophone, this famous Bangkokian blues club, before our appointment with friends at another nightclub called Bangkok Rocks. Saxophone was fun -- a blues band playing nothing but covers of the classics -- Crossroads, Sweet Home Alabama, One Way Out, Little Sister, Johnnie B. Good -- all the usual. The musicians are very accomplished, but one set of that is plenty, so we pushed on.

Before we left, though, I hit the loo and had my first squat toilet experience. Good thing I do yoga. Also, good thing I always travel with tissue in my pockets like an old nun -- it wasn't provided there. Instead, they have what they call "the bidet" -- don't be fooled, it's a hose. It's a vegetable sprayer, really, just like the one attached to the kitchen sink. And there are no paper towels for drying, either. I shudder to think.

Next stop was Bangkok Rocks, which is the jewel in the tinfoil crown of the beleaguered and never-really-off-the-ground Bangkok Indie Rock Scene. Thai people are not indie. They don't want to be different. They don't want to innovate and they don't want to stick out. They like to dress alike. They like to blend. They like cover bands. In fact, they LOVE cover bands -- cover bands are what there is to see and hear in Bangkok. Barry is trying to whoop up interest for his plan to start at Bowie cover band with Lady Boys as back-up singers. He thinks it's brilliant! But I digress.

Bangkok Rocks I'm afraid does not. One word: lame. It wants to be Dante's but there are a few fundamental flaws. It's white, for instance, and shiny chromed and spare. Blue lights. Bare open windows. Office building tile floor. The band we saw was abysmal -- I mean three bad chords bad. Talent show bad. Go back to the garage bad. The stage had a decent light rack but nobody knew how to use it. Not even a stage wash. Occasional strobe flashes and sometimes the green cans came on -- ???

I could stand it for only so long, which is just as well because I had given up drinking hours ago and had been feeding all my drinks to Barry, who by now was way past tipsy. We went to the kabob guy and I plied B with my kabob as well as his, and then we came home. I poured him full of water and put him to bed. He woke up fresh as an Asian daisy. Now we are eating fresh ripe mango and feeling bad for everybody who is not us right now -- miss you!

Lizards and Lady Boys

There are some GIANT lizards in Lumpini Park. The big boys are about 8' long, nose to tail tip. When they swim they look like crocodiles (alligators?). We keep our distance, and even though I'm a little disgusted by these creatures and their bacteria-laden saliva it IS delightful to see giant lizards loose in your neighborhood park!

The park is one of the Royal public places, so it is kept in pristine condition by armies of Thai people in green jackets, raking, sweeping, planting flowers, and tweezing grass from between the bricks on the paths. You have to watch out for the water trucks, though -- they drive along spraying klong water on the grass, and you do NOT want to get it on you. The klongs are the canals that run through Bangkok -- at one time they were a source of water as well as transportation, but now they are filthy. There are urban myths that may not be so mythic about people falling into the klongs and dying a few days later of mysterious infections and ailments. Ew.

Last night we went to a cocktail party put on by the American Chamber of Commerce -- apparently the Chambers of Commerce from many countries put on these soirees regularly as a way of encouraging mixing, elbow rubbing, cross pollination, and the furtherance of commerce. As with any cocktail party, it's mostly about the drinking. I wore that black Jil Sander and stilettos, and we had a great time.

Met a lot of women with "I want Barry!" on their foreheads in red blinking lights, who did their level best to smile at me, poor things. I was nice to them because I certainly understand their position. I met Jason and Jason's father -- both darling. Saw Travis again and met his lovely girlfriend Jessica. Met Jeff and Nathan and a few other people who's names I never caught or lost to vodka. All in all, your basic cocktail event in a hotel bar.

Which, by the way, was called "Bamboo Chic" and located in the Meridien. You know that horrible ring tone I downloaded, that was supposed to sound like crickets but actually sounded like swamp? They had that soundtrack in their elevator!

On our way home we walked by Soi 4, which is a long alley-type street known for its Lady Boy population. I can attest to the beauty of the Bangkok Lady Boy -- one of these nights I want to go to a Lady Boy show. owever, it might be difficult to go to a show and NOT be pressured into a "private show" -- you can see ANYTHING here. Hucksters hang out on the sidewalks with MENUS -- no kidding -- of combinations and positions -- little diagrams of fornication -- you can pick and choose your own a la carte delight, or go for a prix fixe combo -- all up to you!

Oh, and for the record, there are streets that specialize in all the above with women. And some specialize in just "Western" women; or Russian girls; or black girls; or Thai girls; or.... you get the picture. Pick a number off the menu and Miss Thing gets in a cab with you and the sky's the limit. The only advice I can offer besides "Have a fantastic time!" is "Double wrap!"

We are waiting for Mike to arrive and then we're headed down to Chinatown for lunch and shopping. Apparently there are many good guitar shops down there, so you KNOW Mike and Barry are going to be happy and engaged -- and in between guitar shops are pearls pearls pearls -- it's shopping porn for everyone involved. Not that I'm actually shopping in the strictest, making-purchases sense -- I'm trying not to collect stuff because I don't want to have to carry it -- I just got rid of a houseful before I left Portland! I will fondle everything, though, and think of you. xo

Goods and Services

I woke up at 5 am again -- still not caught up from traveling, but feeling fine. Maybe I'm just becoming a morning person? bwha-ha-ha-haha! Like that could happen.

I've discovered on-line yoga. Since I've been lazy about finding a studio here, this is a boon. Not only can I do yoga for free, i can do it naked in the comfort of my own home any old time of the day or night. I may never go back to classes again.

Barry's still not feeling well so I had to entertain myself today. Went for a pedicure and ended up getting a manicure, too. My hands and feet are beautiful and feel great, and here's the best part: less than $10 including a handsome tip. I'm never going to paint my own toes again.

Cooked tonight so B could stay at home -- zucchini with tomatoes and pineapple, and it was very good. Here's the thing about cooking here, though: it's hot. Thai people often cook outside. We have a double-glazed sliding glass door between the kitchen and the rest of the apartment. I close it when I cook and it gets to be like an oven in there almost immediately. The door keeps all the heat in, and when I take the food out to the dining room it's deliciously cool.

Here's another thing about cooking in Thailand: they don't add the noxious smell to their cooking gas. They are big on personal responsibility here -- not a lot of frivolous lawsuits. If you leave the gas on you'll die, and it will be your own fault as far as the Thais are concerned. Oh, and I have to light the stove with a match every time. Very old school and a little scary.

B is making his way through the Lord of the Rings movies -- his plan is to be well before he's seen all three. Wish us both luck with that plan. Although, as I recently twittered, Viggo Mortensen. I'm just saying.

Bon Voyage Party!

The Bon Voyage party July 17 was fabulous! We started out at Amy's and then went to the Goodfoot.

Pictures pictures pictures available on Facebook and on Byron Beck's blog. Here are just a few.

Firsts

Well, Barry is sick. He was a little whiney yesterday about how tired he was etc. and I was getting a bit sick of it, so when he started in this morning I felt very impatient. But then I felt his forehead and realized he's actually ill and felt sort of chastened. It's just a stomach bug or something, fever and chills, and he's not so sick he can't eat -- I've been making food all day long! But he's just been in bed all day.

This led to me having my first foray into Bangkok unaccompanied. I didn't go far, just to the market down the street, but on the way I stopped and ordered water from the doorman ("Nam Plow! Khap kun ka!"), who speaks about as much English as I do Thai. We figured it out, though, and my trip was uneventful.

I cooked on the stove for the first time -- stir fried some vegetables, nothing fancy, but it felt domestic and thrifty and healthy to do as we have been eating out almost every meal. The stoves here are incredibly insulated so they don't throw much heat -- it's like cooking on a kiln. I bought a pack of pre-cut vegetables that included 12 -- yes, TWELVE -- cloves of garlic. The pack was big enough to feed two people, so I figured Thais must use that much garlic, and threw it all in. Turned out great and not too garlicky -- of course, I cooked the hell out of it, but still...

Experienced my first Bangkok rain -- tropical summer storm with huge raindrops and wind blowing them sideways. Even up here on the fifth floor the sound of rain splatting down woke me from a nap -- the energy in a storm here is intense, and apparently the one I witnessed today was very mild -- only a few claps of thunder and a flash or two of lightning.

Finally did some yoga -- I investigated the world of free on-line classes and found it to be rich. I did a very mild class first, and then a short vinyasa class with some German woman who didn't get the same memo I did about yoga -- she was all, "Right! Jump up! Touch your toes bend your knees reach down! Turn around! Do the hokey pokey!" etc. -- but it was still vinyasa and it felt good. I'm going to use on-line yoga until I get a job -- I'm reluctant to spend much money without having an income. B doesn't seem too worried about it, but that doesn't ease my mind at all.

The maid situation here is incredible. Som comes Tuesday and Thursday to clean and two other days to deliver laundry etc. On Thursday I left out a pile of clothes that needed ironing after their rolled-up trip in a suitcase from Portland. I didn't even see Som, much less "ask" (mime would be more accurate) her to iron them, but when we got back from a day out everything was clean and the wrinkly stuff was gone. Friday we came back from a field trip to find that Som had come and (1) delivered laundry which she (2) put away (!), (3) ironed the basket of clothes I'd left out WITHOUT BEING ASKED, (4) returned and put away the ironed clothes, (5) changed the sheets, and (6) left us a bunch of tiny, sweet, finger-sized bananas, which I think grow on a tree by the pool!!! It's amazing and I don't even hate myself for loving it.