We ventured out to a roof top bar called, Vertigo, in what could be referred to as the middle of Bangkok if Bangkok had a center. It was a fun little adventure that I look forward to doing again. Drinks were higher in price but the view made it worth a few.

Onward, to the 59th floor! (It wasn’t fun thinking about the size of the elevator shaft going up.)

The view from Vertigo and the impending storm.

It may not be that Bangkok doesn’t have a center but more so that you need to retreat to a high spot on the far reaches of the Bangkok sprawl to get an idea of Bangkok’s center and skyline. Then you may see some landmarks but in the midst of old and new, wealth and poverty you lose all sense of relative direction.

Don’t mind the nice condo’s in back.

A landmark tried but not true is the river that twists and turns through the west portion of the city. This ribbon that runs past Wat Arun, the Grand Palace and the hospital that now houses the King himself does little to help one’s sense of direction but more to help disorientate you further.

Where you going river? For all who are curious, we live in the Bangna Trad area. Woo! Rural/suburbia!

So, far the only thing that has helped us is GPS via smart phones. Thank you Android and Apple. Till I get better acquainted with Bangkok I will shamelessly be gazing at maps, pointing about myself and feigning I understand direction anywhere other than within a mall (oops, my suburbia is showing).

When I had hair and Ru had shorter whiskers.

If you have known me for more than an hour you know I have a cat. His name is Rufus and he has a plethora of nicknames to allow for proper cooing. (Ru, Rufacus Spartacus Maximus, Rufakisses, Little Ru, Cat-Dog, Ru-poo-poo-pee-doo-woo, Rufie, Ru-fers etc. etc. etc…I have no shame.)

Rufacus Spartacus Maximus

The fierce roar of Ru.

Jay has adopted him as his own and helped me seek out a little Thai Ru that would not replace Rufus but act as a tangible comfort until we got the true Ru to Bangkok.

Little Thai Ru the Tangible.

In the meantime, my sweet Momma (who has graciously been caring for him state side) has been consistently uploading photos of Rufus to facebook for me in his own special album named appropriately and simply, “Rufus.” This album has made my day as much as it has made me miss the little fur ball. It has acted as a motivator more than anything else (sad but true) for me to get a job so, that money can be saved up to bring Ru to Bangkok.

Whiskered Glory.

Now, this is not to say that if Ru did not exist I would have no motivation to get a job. HA! I am itching to get a job. I have had my mini-meltdowns as my life at the moment is marked by washing machine cycles, cleaning our apartment and re-reading while I await my teacher certification to arrive in the mail.

I loathe snail mail. Haven’t we ventured beyond this? Why do I romanticize postcards and vintage stamps…they literally suck…the life out of me. I have no patience for such things that could be done within five minutes on the Internet. Ridiculous.

Though not as ridiculous as this. Future Christmas card prepare yourself Jay!

I am stir crazy yet all I can do is wait. I am in a waiting place and it is not quite what I thought it would be. I feel unfulfilled and I feel useless.

The lone sock.

When I worked (seems so long ago yet it’s only been 2 months) and took vacations it was a comfort to know that once I was done relaxing I would have a place to go to for eight hours a day once more. Not having that place after a two-month break means there is no comfort to the monotonous joblessness I find myself in. I find no purpose. I have held some kind of job since I was 10 years old be it babysitting or working in customer service. The lack of productivity in my day-to-day life at the moment is eating away at my brain and it’s starting to eat at my heart.

When you can feel yourself sinking into a slump and/or a depression of sorts you know it’s a good thing. To feel yourself sinking means you can still feel and that you are not numb.

I still care enough to try to get out of this slump/depression. I still want to fight the urge to curl up in a mass (I cannot curl up into a ball) and mentally die from lack of productivity. I was not made to be still except for small intervals (meaning a day). Even my vacations were punctuated with activities that kept me busy but here I am in my waiting place. All I can do is wait and trust that God (thank God) has a plan. He knows my heart that longs for work beyond the confines of the apartment. He knows this and so, I wait. My hands seemly tied because I have submitted every form needed thus far and made every contact that I could, thus far.

Now, I wait.

I wait…

…and I wait…

…and I wait some more.

It is not a lovely experience and it is not an enjoyable experience.

It is an experience that has made me understand unemployment to be hell on earth. (I could be more dramatic. Tis possible I promise.)

I do believe unemployment is right there with traitors beyond the Giant’s Well in the very depths of the inferno.

So, my motivation to get a job (outside of pining for Ru) is to get out of hell. A hell that is made mentally and thus begins to consume you wholly. (Proven…even more dramatic.)

So, I wait and I fight and I pray.

There goes another day. (HA! I am a poet and I didn’t even know it!)

ON A BRIGHTER NOTE (I did just yell at you via caps lock)…here is another adorable picture of Ru my sweet orange tabby.

First day home. First photo at home. Le bebe Ru.

I have been a slacker in the sense of blogging. In the sense of living though I have been mildly productive if you don’t count not having a job.

Jay and I visited Wat Arun in the heart of Bangkok. We used eight modes of transportation (Sung Towah, bus, BTS air train, Ferry, Water Taxi, Tuk Tuk, walking and then a Taxi) to see it and then journey back home. It was a fun little adventure as we climbed the steep steps that symbolized human suffering (woe to us beings) and then climbed back down them (going down was far scarier). The temple itself is made up of porcelain plates that were incorporated whole or in bits to form flowers or act as jewels. Recycling at it’s finest. It is a gorgeous sight.

The first of many steps equally human suffering. (Photo credit to Therese)

Porcelain whole and in pieces.

Backing that thing down some steps of human suffering.

On the way back Jay, Keeley (a lovely fellow TCIS teacher) and I decided to take a Tuk Tuk to China town that was near by. We spent the next few hours walking through China town and towards the nearest BTS stop to take us home. We made a pit stop at Sunrise Tacos which has become a Sunday tradition of sorts. The neatest Mexican food you may find ever.

Working our way through the allies of China town.

Jay and his very neat burrito.

I found that Bangkok’s China town simply means there will be more street vendors that will be selling Chinese things (as for the difference between Chinese and Thai things I have not found a difference other than writing). Bangkok is supposedly the number one place in the world for street vendors. I believe it even more each night as our soi somehow expands to fit more street vendors than it had previously held during the day. How it happens I do not know. Tis magic I suppose.

After out trek it Wat Arun Jay had his first full week of school. The past few weeks had been four days long with the beginning of school being a short week and then the Queen’s birthday giving everyone a three day weekend the following week (thanks Queenie).

So, he ventured off on Monday to school and I stayed home as usual. I have been itching to find another good read (along with a job) after I finished The Sparrow (thank you Brandi Hyde…it was an amazing read that I will have to read it again as so much seems to be connected). I found our shared Nook and tried reading Freakonomics. It wasn’t hitting the spot. So, I searched through it once more and came across the Harry Potter series. Long time no see, ‘arry.

Excited children. We are pretty much one and the same.

So, my journey with Harry Potter has once again commenced. I have devoted a days reading each to the first four books but the fifth book contains over 600 pages thus a second day just may be in store for it.

I never went to any mid-night release nights for any of the books within the Harry Potter series but I seemly grew up with him as each book was released.

This is what mid-night release partys are supposedly like. You can not find me in this picture because I was never there.

I never did this. The kid on the left is by far scarier even though they have no wand. I SEE THROUGH YOU FAKER!

I never did this either. People are so creepy.

When Harry entered Hogwarts at age eleven my eleven-year-old self was reading about him doing so. When twelve-year-old Harry was figuring out his way through the chamber of secrets twelve year old Beth was reading about him doing so. Thirteen year old Beth was so happy to find that Harry had a godfather and fourteen year old Beth felt the gut wrenching sting of death as JK Rowling killed off a character for the first time in The Goblet of Fire. Not to be the last either as the three later novels became darker. A more mature audience was reading Harry Potter at this point. Fifteen, sixteen and seventeen year-olds who grew up with Harry were now able to pair the novels with film and compare the two media’s along with the awaited following books.

I remember all this and am re-reading the books for memories sake. I still remember my Dad showing up with the second Harry Potter book after he had come off a night shift (Thanks Dad). I immediately ran off to my room with the book. I didn’t emerge till I had finished it (I believe there is a photo of me camped out on my bed reading with an expression of, “why are you here” being given to the camera). I left my room in the after glow of finishing a wonderful tale. It’s feelings like that at the age of twelve which bring me back to the series ten years later.

Judge me as you will for reading what some Christians would call a heathen text but it is a wonderful story. It capitalizes on the magic but not in teaching children how to use it. Rather on the bravery it still takes to face life each day with a higher power in the trenches with you.  If you read it as such you will see it. If you read it as evil I am sure you will see it as so.

So, I am once again caught up in the tale of Harry Potter. I still got excited when Harry had the sorting hat placed upon his head. I still got excited when I discovered he was a parselmouth. I still got excited when Harry met his godfather for the first time and a new hope was still able to rise (even though I knew the outcome) that Harry would finally be free of the Dursleys. I still got even more excited with each of the Triwizard Tournament tasks. Now I find I am dreading the end of the series…yet again. The idea of it ending once more makes my heartache. I hate how attached I get to mere characters but it is an epic journey nonetheless.

Onward, to Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix!

Dumbledore’s words for thought (followed by Beth’s swoon):

“It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.”

“It matters not what someone is born, but what they grow to become.”

Oh, Dumbledore how insightful you are.

Dumbledore.

What I am trying not to channel.

I am a creeper. I watch without an ounce of shame the family across the khlong (English: canal) from our apartment building.

Behind our building there runs a khlong with a little sidewalk along one side that mopeds fly down and pedestrians walk along. This activity alone is fascinating.

Like neighborhoods in the states the sidewalks are in front of little houses and buildings surrounded by lush vegetation (what is lush vegetation Americans might ask…think SUPER green not from sprinklers). The major differences from the states are the level of activity in the front yards and the trash in the water below the khlong sidewalks. (Neighborhood committees in the states would have heads on spikes for the trash in the water.)

Take that neighborhood committee!

While, in the states most activity is in the backyard behind high fences this family carries out most of their daily living in the front yard. They wash dishes, clothes, eat and lounge about in their front yard.

Jay and I have an apartment on the fourth floor of our building. So, our apartment provides a birds eye view into the front yard of this family’s home. This is how I get to observe their daily comings and goings.

(Initiate Beth’s creeper mode)

Haaaaaaaw.

The monks come early in the morning for offerings, the little girl goes off to school in her uniform, the grandmother comes out to wash dishes in their water barrel, the little girl returns home from school with a gaggle of girls and the father returns home on his moped which he pulls directly into the house. The father then comes back outside with the baby that he walks along the khlong sidewalk with sweetly kissing and caressing all the while.

Meanwhile, I am in awe four floors up watching them. Beth, thy name is Creeper.

Derp.

I love watching this family.  It’s creepy and kind of rude of me but they are just so sweet. I am comforting myself with the idea that I am learning more about Thai culture just by observing their daily life in the front yard of their small house. I am not simply creeping. I am learning.

I tried not watching one day but my desk is so perfectly situated by the window and so perfectly situated to observe them I couldn’t help it. It also didn’t help that this particular day the grandmother decided to put on a kind of fashion show. At one point she was wearing a skirt and a blouse. She then went inside and came out wearing the long skirt as a full-length dress. She brought clothes to a little basin where she allowed them to soak, scrubbed them and then took the wrung out clothes back into the house. Each time she came back outside in a new outfit. Fascinating and she has a really nice sense of fashion if I do say so myself. You go, Grandma!

All in all, I am sure by Thai standards this family is doing nothing unusal but by my Texan (no use saying, American…see previous blog) standards they are better than television. In respect, to the family I am not going to post a picture of their front yard as tempting as it may be. No need to make you all creepers, too. Tis for your own sake. You’re welcome.

So, this post proves how much I need a job. I never thought I’d say it but I miss Starbucks. WAIT, I TAKE THAT BACK! I miss my friends from Starbucks, of course. What I miss is not Starbucks though. I miss having a job to go to every day. Without a job I become a creep. How unflattering.