I have been a bad blogger. No, no. I appreciate your soothing assurances that it’s OK, that you understand. But I have posted far too infrequently than I ever intended. I blame the rot.
Six months is the mark that every new expat eyes with anticipation and excitement. It floats into your head late at night when you’re plotting an escape plan home. It beckons to you from the future when you’re trying to pantomime to an uncomprehending barista that you need a napkin, saying “if you just make it a little longer I promise everything will be OK.” The six-month mark is when all of the pieces fall together; you have your job down pat, an apartment, friends and a fairly comprehensive understanding of your new city and culture.
I have not only blissfully hit the sixth month mark, I am gaining on seven. I love Bangkok (most days) and spend my free time with friends at restaurants, bars, cheap little markets, movie theaters and karaoke joints. I had a two-and-a-half week visit from my mom and sister Tory at the end of January, and enjoyed myself and Thailand more than I have since coming here.
All of this pleasure seeking, however, means that I have not thought much of you. OK, that’s not entirely true. I have guilty feelings that I should write and tell you what I’ve been up to; that I should put together a video so you can experience first-hand this fascinating world. But I don’t. I have dinner with friends, I go to bed early, I watch American Idol. I have succumbed to the six-month rot _ when you become so comfortable you no longer need distracting pursuits to make you forget that you live in this strange and forbidding city.
But I cannot fall victim to the rot. I will not. I have pictures and videos collected over the past few months to share, more strange fruit to try and many more things to tell you about Bangkok and my life here. I will be a better blogger in future and will try to stave off any resurgence of the rot.
However, if for some reason I forsake you again _ which I pledge to try not to do _ you can guess now where I might be. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll be thinking of you while I’m listening to a bad Thai cover band with great friends and a vodka and tonic.