My excuse for this post being 3 months after we moved into our apartment is a simple one. I am a perfectionist. I still don’t feel our apartment is “perfect” but I guess that’s life so enjoy a picture tour of our space provided below.

Also, family and friends this means I am working on posting wedding pictures (I know, I know so very late but in my defense there are over 1,500 to go through) and most importantly I am working on “Thank you” virtual/cards. Yes, I am a very bad respondent forgive me for as much as I want to be perfect I am most flawed.

Enjoy the apartment in the mean time!

Hotel de Carlin.

Through the front door you are deposited into our entry/dining room/kitchen and into our living room/office. WELCOME!

Above the windows you will notice our air con. Each room has an individual air con and all the lights are built out of the ceiling/wall which I assume is for easy access when there are problems. Your guess is as good as mine though. The couch, chairs and kitchen table came with the place. I am not a red couch in this structure kind of girl but that’s a first world problem. [SHOUT OUT to Brandi Hyde for the Korea pillow that helps personalize our space. I love this pillow so very much, THANK YOU!]

BOOM! You are in our living room and well look at that you are also simultaneously in our office.

With your back to our patio you can see our kitchen stocked with a slightly larger dorm size fridge, one induction burner, a microwave, sink and a drying rack IN the sink. Ta-dah! Compact to say the least.

[SHOUT OUT to the Parkers and my Madre’s side of the family back in Texas for the funds to stock our fridge and pantry (the small shelf above our entire kitchen) when we first made it to Thailand. We can stock our fridge/pantry for a week on $50 or less so we were good for a few weeks. You guys are so sweet and I am throwing many thanks your way. Also thank you to G-ma for the hand stitched dish towels. You know my style well!]

One day we will get an oven that will bake cookies, cakes, muffins, cupcakes and all that nutritional stuff we seem to be missing. The front door is BOOM right there and if we turn left now we can go to the guest room and bath. If we turn right we can go to the master bedroom and adjoining bath. We are going right first.

I would like to say this is awkward BUT being that our master bedroom is right off the living room/office/entry/dining room/kitchen the awkward has worn off.

The striped black and white goodness that graces our walls came with the place along with the bed and duvet. I haven’t quite decided if I am for or against the stripes. They are permanent so I am working with them, deals-isy.

[SHOUT OUT to my sweet sister Am for the help in buying sheets and mama Debbie for the pillow that seems to go with me  everywhere. Jay is pretty laid pack about the floral as long as I promise to incorporate more manly patterns. Yay, compromise!]

BOOM the master bathroom.

If you look by the toilet you will see a hose hanging on the wall. In Thailand it is not as common to use tissue paper but rather water. I have not adapted to this Thai style yet hence the t.p. on the back of the comode because tissue paper holders are also not a normal installment. If you look to the far right in the shower each shower has it’s own water heater. I believe this is also true in many parts of Europe and it makes so much more sense in my mind then one large one as we have back in the States. Fun times getting clean in the BKK.

[SHOUT OUT to the Mickelson’s back in Texas for the money for towels. We found IKEA to our best friend in this department. Also to the Beavers back in Texas also who provided for my hair dryer needs. The shorter hair let me wait on this purchase but it is nice to have. THANK YOU ALL!]

On a side note…

Level change!

From the bathroom to the master bedroom level change!

What you did not notice when you entered our apartment is the slight step up. Who can blame you though?! It is hard to see when I am the one forcing you to see a certain way. Well, as you step into either of our bathrooms you are transported back to the hallway level. THEN as you step into the shower you are transported to a level slightly below the hallway. This leveling is due in part to how Thai style cleaning goes…water-ful. A restroom and a bathroom are translated to “water room” in Thai which makes bathing and cleaning water-ful activities. Hence, the leveling so you don’t spill out into your apartment and flood the place. So, that water being splashed out of the tub by kiddos is not such a big deal Mom and Dad, geez. Be more Thai parentals!

As we exit the master bedroom and bath area (Watch your step!)  here is another view of our “airy” living space.

Can you tell who’s side is who’s in the desk space? The guest bath is straight onward and our Thai broom acts as a functional piece of art. As much as I make fun of how all our living spaces are in fact one living space I do love how the area is designed. I love the combination of wood and tile. I do not mind the monochromatic color scheme so much as I can be brighter in other ways. It’s a fun first space for Jay and I. The best part of all is that it is BANGKOK so I shouldn’t really complain.

Another view of the combo space. If you read my getting crafty blog post then this map looks familiar. It really has helped make this space more personal.

Now, as we turn right we will enter the guest room/Jay’s studio space. Jay being the laid back gentleman he is lets me give the space a thorough cleaning before guests arrive and rearrange the space. So, if you are a future guest viewing this picture the room will be a surprise when you come…a good surprise I promise.

The guest room/studio space.

So, it is not in a bad shape but it is setup for daily usage. It serves it’s studio function well as far as I understand. It gives Jay his creative space and us a guest space. Hotel de Carlin is open and taking reservations so feel free to make them.

For those who are curious, this is how we do our laundry.

Laundry day.

We are so green or made to be, wasteful Amurricans. On the main floor of our building is a laundry area with four washers and one dryer. I rather like this setup and find that in the Thailand heat (I move the drying rack to our patio once it’s all done up) all the clothes dry in about 2 hours or less. The ones already on hangers can go immediately into the closets and the ones on the rack are simply folded and put away. I do put our sheets and towels in the dryer though. I like the fluff the dryer provides the Amurrican that I am.

Well, now you are caught up on our living space here in the BKK. Feel free to creep and scroll back up and look again. They are here for your viewing pleasure and to give me more time to get all the wedding photos together along with “Thank you” cards : / I do not count my “SHOUT OUT” as a proper “Thank You” so don’t worry peeps. Proper thanks will be sent out accordingly. It is just a matter of time.

I am fighting the urge to sleep. About 3 different medicines are coursing through my veins telling my eyes to close, heart to drop to a slow rhythmic pace and my body to feel mmm, mmm good. I have an ear infection.

In memory, this is the first ear infection I have ever had (am I right Dad and Mom?). As an adult I know it is definitely the first, as the body crippling pain is hard to forget. “So, this is why babies scream at the top of their lungs!” is the message the resounding pain that forced my body to convulse and tears to stream delivers to my brain.

I am not one to want to voluntarily go to a doctor. My parents had to drag me and now my sweet Husband has to drag me. Today was different though. As soon as my amazing husband walked through the door after work I was begging to go the doctors. The gentleman that he is he obliged without a word of the horrible, no good, very bad day that he had (until I winkled it out of him later). My Jay takes good care of me.

There were no taxi’s when we got down to our soi so we started walking to the next major street. My ear throbbing and of little use I didn’t hear the Sung Tao approach but luckily we were on it right behind the frail looking old Thai man who had hailed it (notice I say “frail looking” because the old are tough here in Thailand).

Sixteen baht later Jay and I were crossing the busy street to the hospital where I was checked in without a problem, weighed and found wanting…of aid. This whole process was SO SIMPLE compared to the paper work you have to fill out in the States. They asked for my passport (done!), they wanted my address (done!) and they wanted my phone number (done!). Amurrica we have some problems. At any rate, the doctor called me in. He asked if I spoke Thai and I said, “nit-noy” meaning “a little.” He responded by telling me he spoke a little English and I told him “Well, then this will be fun.” Some pantomimes of body crippling pain and pointing to my ear allowed him to get the jist enough to grab his handy-dandy ear looker thingy and take a gander. I didn’t need to speak Thai to understand that this man saw the festering hollows of my ear canal and he went to work (in accent-less English) to prescribe antibiotics, eardrops, pain medicine for my ear, cough and the decongestant I had been found wanting. Oh, glory hallelujah! Jay and I cashed out ($40 TOTAL as in med.’s, doctor visit and nurse all in an ER setting…Amurrica we definitely have some problems) and headed home being passed by two cabs and finally catching the third.

Once home I created my medicine time sheet (my Mama’s taught me well) and began the journey to feel better land where the grass is greener, of course.

Ear drops (done!), cough no more drug (done! Coughing with an ear infection SUCKS!), nose clearing goodness (done!), pain reliever that is medically prescribe (Oh yeah, DONE!) and last but not least my antibiotic to kill off the ear infections gods (because ear infections are pagans, duh).

Please allow me introduce you to my antibiotic.

Antibiotic meet People. People meet Antibiotic. Mr. Pen is here to show the good People how big you really are Antibiotic. Please, don’t mind him.

That is a normal size writing utensil good People. This guy is HUGE! One whole gram of fighting ear infection power! BAM!

My husband hates taking pills but I on the other hand would rather a pill over a shot, liquid medicine or even chewable. Pills are my forte and I swallowed Mr. Antibiotic without a problem until I looked at his weight again.

One gram even for a pill lover seemed like a lot. I questioned him and did a quick google search of what was written on his outer wrapping. I did all this after swallowing him, of course. Well, for future notice to all a “dispersible tablet” means you are supposed to dissolve it in water and then engulf it. Oops, did I do that? No, I did not. I chugged two glasses of water, started burping some bubbles, heard a grumbling in my tumbly but was/am fine.

So, a bit was lost in translation but overall I made it through my first go round with the Thai doctors and feel like the Carlin’s in Bangkok are a bit more self-sufficient for it. YAY us! YAY med.’s! YAY bed that is calling my name! I can’t fight this feeling any longer (good ol’ 80’s jams). Take this blog peeps and use it for the next time a baby cries with an ear infection to understand that you should cry with them because it is a miserable state to be in. Poor babies with ear infections they deserve our empathy.

Since I haven’t found a “craft store” I like to think it adds to my creativity but in reality it only adds to my efforts to procrastinate crafts. Bwahaha!

I have finally run out of excuses though. I have found the necessary supplies to hang our world map tapestry and the urge to nest has overruled any ounce of procrastination left.

I found the thread, pins and needle at a mom and pop shop on our soi one evening while walking around with Jay. I literally said, “Ah-Ha!” when I found them. I pricked my fingers numerous times with the ultra-flexible needle (needles do not need to be THAT flexible) but I survived. Our tapestry survived as well and the pictures below catalogue the tapestries journey from throw blanket to wall mountable glory.

Our journey began with measurements, division and marking.

Luckily, I brought some fabric from home. It’s 50 states fabric so I felt cutting a strip of it to make fabric hooks for the back of the tapestry was appropriate. Got to keep with the geography theme.

I am pinning and it’s not just on Pinterest! Little Thai Ru was there for moral support as the real Ru would have of course laid on any work I was doing on the floor as well. The joy of having a cat :]

These are the “fancy pins” that I bought from the mom and pop shop on our soi. They are “Woman Brand” which I thought would be hard to manage but they were pretty docile.

Once pinning was done at the appropriate measurements it was time to sew. Sewing by hand is a lot less glamorous than the period films would have you think. Another way life is not like the movies.

3M hooks have become my best friends since we have concrete walls. I pressed each of these little suckers as close as I could to the wall for 30 seconds because I follow packaging instructions like a good little nerd.

BEFORE the wall was clothed. So naked (pronounced “neck-ed” in the Texan dialect).

AFTER with Angels singing. Wall you got some nice swag!

Running off the fumes of the tapestry project I took on making our desk area more presentable and less dorm-room-esque. I do not want to invest in any kinds of frames as we plan to make our teaching abroad a career. Frames = glass which glass = breakable so, I had a small challenge in looking into alternative ways to “frame” pictures.

The wall above our work station is half glass and half magnetic board. It was good thinking by the contractor and thus I felt it was a good idea to take advantage of the pro’s of our desk space. Project Drawn on Frames Initiate!

“Wyteboard Marker.” I would have bought this brand even if it wasn’t the best brand all for the grandeur of it’s spelling.

BEFORE the “wyteboard” marker met the “whiteboard.”

AFTER the “wyteboard” marker drew frames around the photos.

Up close and personal look at the squiggly lines. I very obviously did not use a ruler but I quite prefer the imperfection.

After such a crafting streak I can now officially proclaim the start of a craft drawer!

Bum bum buuuuuuum! T’is a start to something magical! I even stowed away my clippings of sewing machines :] Got to keep the dream alive!

Since taking the show on the road I have learned that you can not assumed you can find anything just anywhere in Bangkok. I have managed to find basic crafting supplies but it will take time to accumulate. I can’t rush around looking because I have no idea where to begin. It will be a search that will ride shotgun as Jay and I wonder around different parts of Bangkok. Hopefully, I will have many more “Ah-Ha!” moments as I stumble across better needles, a better selection of thread and *fingers crossed* fabric.

**UPDATE**In the major department stores I have found sewing machines (Ah-Ha!) and large selections of yarn (aww, poo). Knitting is the thing to do in Thailand but it is kind of like making flip flops in Siberia in my mind. I don’t knit so I shouldn’t criticize but really….knitting in this humidity and heat?! THERE IS NO WINTER IN BANGKOK!

When I think of a Texan I think of a cowboy with a low IQ and an ignorant sounding twang that got rich when he struck oil. This Texas cowboy also has the awful tendency to feel entitled to anything he wants because he is in, “God’s country.”

Ugh, gag me.

I was not born in Texas. I was born in Landstuhl, Germany on an Air Force base that granted me the United States citizenship prized by many but despised by me who didn’t want to claim those roots. I wanted to be European.

Check Point Charlie where East meets West Germany – Proving my non-Texas birth and early life.

To set the record straight I have owned boots but never a cowboy hat. When I was 7 years old or so I owned a white pair of boots with sequins and tassels down the side. I wore those boots till they turned yellow and fell apart. I still love movement on clothing and attribute it to the tassels on those white boots. With my love of movement on clothing I could have been a stripper I suppose or gone the path of the tribal inspired hipsters that waltz around Austin. I choose neither and prefer J. Crew and Anthropologie for clothing inspiration. Thank God I became fascinated with Audrey Hepburn and old movie starlets in middle school.

At any rate, I never had the urge to claim my Texas roots that are planted deep on my father’s side and have become permanent transplants in recent years on my mother’s side. When asked where I was from I would claim Germany before ever mentioning that I had lived in Texas for the majority of my life. I wanted the mystery associated with being from overseas.

On a mysterious pint-sized European adventure in London.

The thought of becoming the ignorant sounding Texan I hated frightened me. It frightened me so much that in high school I decided I would live abroad the rest of my life so that my roots floated above the world rather than dug deep into Texas soil.

Well, lets fast forward a few years now. I have graduated from the University of Texas (so much for going out of state and/or international) and now live in Bangkok, Thailand with my husband. I have never missed Texas soil as much as I do now. After meeting the man I love, getting married and starting life with Jay in Texas it is strange to not call it a special place in my heart. So, strange that now I miss it when I used to loathe it.

Two Texas graduates about to runaway to Bangkok.

When asked where I am from by a Thai I say, “Texas” without hesitation and then quickly correct myself with the added, “America.” The first time I endured this Freudian slip I had an inner panic attack that made the little voice inside my head cry out in pain, “YOU’VE BECOME THAT PERSON!” By “that person” I mean a Texan who claims Texas as their nation before America. Yes, Texas at one point was it’s own country (the stereotypical Texan through and through will never let you forget it  and supposedly Texas can still secede BUT that is not my point) but it is not presently. It is a state that I claim before my nation.

How Texan of me.

I’d like to think that I am not the stereotyped Texan I wrote of before because I don’t own a cowboy hat. I have never owned a horse, gun or a confederate flag. My IQ is not low and I avoid the ignorant sounding twang like the plague but I feel the Texan in me by the aching of my heart when I think of the capital (our capital is larger than the one in Washington D.C. it is also made of pink limestone…aren’t we fancy), Tex-Mex (no you can’t get any good Tex-Mex north of Texas because then it wouldn’t be TEX-mex now would it), yellow roses (a sweet song sung all through grade school), blue bonnets (a customary backdrop for Texan family pictures) barbeque…oh, geeze how much I miss barbeque. I also feel the aching in my heart for “home” when I say, “we” as in “we” Texans.

The customary Texan spring photo backdrop complete with a barn amongst the bluebonnets. My little brothers and I were mere babies then.

My Paw-Paw (yes, even a southern sounding nickname for my grandfather to add to the Texan in me) is a World Barbecue Cook-off Champion. He is the coolest ol’ man you’ll ever meet and a born and bred Texan. He has given me some very high barbecue standards.

If my teenage self met me now she’d go ballistic. She’d cry for the European lost and the Texan found. She would be disappointed in how even half way across the world I feel my roots digging deep into Texas soil.

Oh, how I pity my sweet teenage self and her heartbreak. It truly would have been a crying shame for her to hear me say loud and proud now when asked by a Thai that I am from Texas before mentioning America. I think her ears might have dripped with blood from her brain combusting.

Ugh, listen to me now. Isn’t it ridiculous? How crazy to strive for something for ones entire life to find you are what you were running from. Here it is though…I am a Texan. Skin crawling as the teenage Beth would feel it is, it is what I am. I am Texan hear me say, “y’all.”

I am the “X” in “Texas.” Oh, how engrained in me being a Texan is it just took a while to realize it.