Apple for Teacher

Students,

It is sometimes nice to be appreciated (hint.) Yesterday was Wai Kru or Teacher's Day in Thailand and, to be honest, I was a little peeved that my role in this event was to sit for 2 hours hearing students eulogise in Thai while their listening tutors sobbed around me on the stage (I work at a touchy-feely girls school.) However my feelings changed when I arrived at my desk this morning to find a note from one of my students. The contents were as follows:

Happy teacher's Day.....

To: Ajhan Paul,

I'm so glad that you teach me and thank you for everything that you gave to me. You make me have more knowledge and every important things. Thank you!

From: Kawinna (Gig)

...It's almost enough to make this hardened professional shed a tear (almost.) The cynical Id in me suggests someone is fishing for a good grade, but the optimistic Ego says 'Thank you Gig.' I wish I knew who you were...

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: With compliments.

x Teacher

Feeding Time

Students,

Continuing a spell of creative writing, Teacher has embarked on a project to pen a one-act play. The drama may be submitted to Bangkok Community Theatre's one-act festival if, when drafted a few times, it does not suck. Otherwise the exercise will have just been an interesting problem-solving task.

A one-act play is usually 25 minutes on a single stage set. My original idea was for an innocent conversation between two people which then took a sinister turn and quickly became heated and desperate. The idea evolved from date gone wrong to taxi ride gone wrong to couple meet in Bangkok club (this will also go wrong.) The scenario means I can play with sound and create tension by having a disco beat as constant background. There could also be a lowered lighting state and minor characters around to interrupt the main action / represent the mood.

The script is provisionally titled Feeding Time and its characters are Joe, a mysterious twentysomething who may or may not have ulterior motives for talking to Jess, a 25 year-old English woman who has just moved to Thailand and doesn't even realise how vulnerable that makes her. Below you will find a script extract at a point where the characters step out onto the club balcony for a smoke. This is the first point that Jess notices Joe might be somewhat good-looking. Please read and (kindly) critique if you wish.

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Learn your lines.

x Teacher

JOE
Those things will kill you. You know?

(JOE motions to JESS’ cigarette then points at the gruesome picture on the packet.)

JESS
So will a lot of things. What’s your name?

(JESS hands him back his cigar. JOE hands her back her cigarette, waggles the cigar between his teeth, and raises his eyebrows.)

JOE
Hmm. That’s forward. And I believe you’re following polite conversation rules all of a sudden. Living a little?

JESS
Well if the alternative is being killed…

JOE
Ok. But you first lady.

Ladies should always go first.
I hear that’s like the number 1 rule of chivalry.

JESS
It’s Jess.

JOE
A-ha. I’m…

(Suddenly the clubgoers behind them start screaming orgasmically over and over as representation of JESS’s sexualised thoughts. We do not hear JOE say his name and clearly neither does JESS. She nods and pretends to however.)

…Welcome to Bangkok.

(The clubgoers stop and return to dancing normally.)

JESS
Sorry?

JOE
I said ‘Welcome to Bangkok.’

(A spilt-second break in the music before the beat resumes.)

JESS
How do you know that I’m new here?

JOE
Haven’t seen you before.

JESS
Is this the only club in Bangkok?

JOE
Nope.

JESS
And do you know every area of the city and who lives there?

JOE
Nope.

JESS
Then how could you know I’m new here?

JOE
Let’s just say your first impressions gave you away.

JESS
What do you mean?

JOE
Oh I don’t know. The pasty face and sunburned forearms…
The ‘trying too hard to look relaxed’ casual wear…
You’re perspiring quite heavily which suggests you’re not used to the heat…
And you asked the waiter for no ice because you haven’t got over your paranoia about the drinking water yet. What? You look freaked out.

JESS
Uh-huh.

JOE
Why? I’m observant that’s all. Maybe you’re not observant enough.

JESS
How would you know?

JOE
Just sayin’

JESS
I’d say I’m pretty observant.
For instance: You have that shaved head and facial stubble that guys have if they want a rugged look.
But you’re not quite so carefree. That shirt is a label and those jeans were not cheap. Designer underwear no doubt, possibly a shaved chest, and certainly more products in his bathroom cabinet than a tourist like me.

JOE
Well now you’re just generalizing.

JESS
No, I’m not.

JOE
Yes you are. It’s not observant to describe a ‘type’.
You want to see my underwear?

(JOE undoes the top button of his trousers to show a glimpse.)

JESS
You show me yours… (JESS moves to take a look.)
…You’re not wearing any!

(JOE steps away.)

JOE
Really? Where’d they go? (JOE puffs on his cigar.)
…What do you deduct from your observation then?

JESS (Thinking.)
…That you’re cocky.

Because...

I thought I knew what happy was,
the kind with blue skies and sun.
I expected things would drift along
with me as number one.
The noise in my mind was all but background,
my heart was locked and sealed.
And then, my love, you came around
to show me how to feel.

I didn't want to second guess
or question who you are.
What came before I couldn't care less

Because...

You've woken me up
and I didn't know I was sleeping.
I'm lost in your smile,
I'm lost in your lips,
Your words, your stare, your legs, your hair.
I want your kisses,
you touching my skin.

And...
I'm crazy, I'm worried, I'm so fucking scared.
But when you look my way
I don't even care.

I'll give it to you, whatever it is.
All you want and more.
My body, my brain,
my heart, my name.
I wouldn't think twice,
worry what's in store.
I wouldn't look before leaping

Because...

You've woken me up

and I didn't know I was sleeping.

I'm lost in your smile,

I'm lost in your lips,

Your words, your stare, your legs, your hair.

I want your kisses,

you touching my skin.

And...

I'm crazy, I'm worried, I'm so fucking scared.

But when you look my way

I don't even care.

xxx

Doctor Who?

Students,

Ok so attend closely, here is the situation: There is a man and he calls himself The Doctor. That’s it, just The Doctor. Cool, huh? Except this man is not a man at all, he’s an alien from a planet called Gallifrey and is over nine hundred years old. His alien race are called Timelords and they are able to see the whole of time, and manipulate it. They are a good people – or were – because they and their planet perished in an intergalactic time war. This means The Doctor is the last of the Timelords – a lonely god if you will. A glimmer of hope came when he met another whom you might describe as his alter-ego. He was called The Master and he displayed a thirst for power that would lead to his eventual death. The Master was unfortunately slightly bonkers on account of looking into the eye of the time vortex as a junior Timelord on Gallifrey. The Doctor did the same thing but on seeing this infinity was inspired to take a different path as traveler in time and space, helping others with his vast scientific knowledge, outwardly compact and inwardly enormous time machine, and the handy tools of sonic screwdriver and psychic paper. This machine of his is called a TARDIS, meaning ‘Time And Relative Dimension In Space.’ It is actually thought to be more living organism than machine, and it tends to pilot its owner to trouble spots so he can make friends and solve problems. The TARDIS also translates every known language so he can understand those he speaks to. Unfortunately The Doctor’s life is very dangerous, and he is often menaced by a malevolent robot race called Daleks. The Daleks resemble human-sized pepper pots and come from a far-away planet called Skaro. They were created by a physically deformed being called Davros who first programmed them to win a centuries-long battle between the two races on his world. Alas they turned rogue and evolved into killing machines, conquering solar systems and even being responsible for the destruction of Gallifrey. They have gunned down The Doctor before, but as a Timelord, he can avoid death by changing his body into another. This morphic ability is called regenerating. So far in his life he has successfully regenerated at least ten times much to the surprise of traveling companions. These companions have mainly been humans since The Doctor has a fondness for 20-21st Century Earth and its people. He has shown the stars to a number of us (by-and-large young females), yet the curse of an everlasting life does tend to mean that companions come and go; The Doctor cannot be responsible for them as they get older and fail to keep up with the running. Because of this fact The Doctor cuts quite a lonely figure, and you could say his only real companion is death. Of course he tries to have a good time while being courageous, and in his recent past he and his companions have visited with such luminaries as Madame de Pompadour and writers Charles Dickens, Agatha Christie, and Shakespeare. Companion Rose Tyler was the first person since the time war to give The Doctor real hope again, and a romance of sorts developed between the sassy blonde Londoner and the dishy suited alien. However, Rose was to be cut-off from her friend in a tragic twist as they heroically ended a laser fight between Daleks and another robot race called Cybermen. She escaped the fray and lost The Doctor, being transported to a parallel Earth. Post-devastation, Rose took on a role as adviser for Torchwood, a (somewhat) secret organization originally set-up by Queen Victoria (in both worlds) and dedicated to both salvaging alien technology and neutralizing threats from outer space. Also working for this cause are three of The Doctor’s former companions. Captain Jack Harkness is a bisexual flirt from the 51st Century now made indestructible and immortal during rescue from a Dalek attack. He leads an equally sexually experimental team from a secret base beneath the Millennium Building in Welsh capital Cardiff. Torchwood is partially funded by UNIT (Unified Nations Intelligence Taskforce), who are a covert military operation with vast resources stretching to underground bases and a hovering aircraft carrier. Medical doctor Martha Jones is among key UNIT personnel and has a wealth of experience following a travel period with The Doctor. A little older, but no less feisty is Sarah-Jane Smith. Being an investigative reporter she was ideally qualified to accompany The Doctor across two regenerations in the 1970s, and she continues to adventure in his name. Helping her are adopted son Luke, a plucky band of teenage friends, a voice-activated super computer called Mr. Smith, and a robot dog called K-9 who was gifted to her by The Doctor. Rose, Captain Jack, Martha, Sarah-Jane, Torchwood, UNIT etc will soon be called on to aid their friendly Timelord and current companion Donna Noble against the evil forces of Davros and a re-built Dalek army. The return of these enemies spells untold peril for the Earth, and if Davros’ tyrannical plot is anything like the (probably not) final scheme of The Master, more death and desperate time traveling will ensue. The Doctor will no doubt cure all ills, but he himself will be left to resume eternal wandering, sole pilot of a time machine disguised as a wooden blue police box.

Doctor Who is a genius British TV show that began in the mid 1960s and continues today with annual series. Ostensibly a family show it appeals to a sizeable audience because of a creative concept that allows episodes to be either science-fiction, comedic, thrillers, historical, or disjointed in narrative. David Tennant plays the tenth Doctor with great energy, and is joined by some top British actors in scripts by top British writers. Fan w*nk notwithstanding, this Drama Type always enjoys smart writing/acting/directing and can only encourage all impressionable students to seek out this entertainment when not being otherwise entertained in class. Oh, and it's miles better than Lost (snooze.)

Doctor Who is shown first on BBC One around 7pm on Saturday evenings.
Its spin-off shows are Torchwood and The Sarah-Jane Adventures.

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Kindly remove the graffiti-ed word ‘nerd’ from your exercise book and start learning. Teacher needs a companion – cyber geeks excluded – to gush about sonic screwdrivers and not appear crazed… ‘A’ on offer??

x Teacher

Picture Post - Out & About

Students,

I’ve been talking a lot about the social mores of Bangkok, but often words cannot do justice to the exciting times your devoted Teacher enjoys when not in class. Therefore I will stop talking and let you once more nosily peruse some snaps from my photo album. Below you will see another saucy image from my recent drama collaboration as well as assorted friends, lovers, and crazy colleagues.

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Hit the town.

x Teacher

Brotherly Love

Students,

I have been putting off telling you about a secret pain afflicting my very core, but there comes a time to talk about such things so here goes. I wish to speak of a fine Californian gentleman whom has now left the party in Bangkok and, in doing so, left behind a broken-up soul brother in myself. Not only that but I reckon if I were to venture out alone sans partner in crime, the clubs we once frequented would be filled with the many he loved (for one night only) and has now callously moved 5000 miles away from. And for what? J.W. always RSVP’d and was never one to go home early. Even when his brother bowed out from a night of sweat and glitter, he kept on going in a manner not dissimilar to those pink Duracell bunnies. Of course that was not the only quality he shared with the rabbit family…

I mourn his departure for our time together was so very brief. We bonded over a shared passion for dancing and di… disco. In fact I believe our first meeting was the result of the classic dance-off situation where two gentlemen meet under a hail of neon lights and must decide whether they are bed partners or life partners. We were the latter. But not in the tedious ‘let’s meet up and discuss love and interior design’ sense. Our shared interest was for playing hard and living fast. Yes, we’d teach during the day and tick all the boxes required of us but come the cover of darkness we took it to the clubs and we gave it good…

Too emphatic? Maybe. But the level of fun with J.W. was always several notches above normal. On a particularly memorable Saturday he decided to add a little bleach to his hair. After losing track of time while chatting he suddenly realized his blonde locks should have been rinsed out already so he rushed to the sink and was gone for some minutes. On returning, all present were interested to discover that J.W.’s hair had turned blue. But being him he didn’t worry, didn’t despair, he just laughed, worked the look, and danced his cares away later. As blogged previously, the right kind of confidence and the right kind of attitude was enough to get this smart guy exactly what and where he wanted that night.

Another night J.W. really made me smile was when he expressed his interest in moving from the dancefloor of late club G.O.D. (Guys On Display) to what can only be described as a ‘bird cage’ hanging next to it. Alright, it was bigger than a bird cage but it served the same purpose – get inside and you’d be prodded and poked by all around and at the least, be gawped at and talked about. In the spirit of play I got us inside and there we climbed, shirtless and hysterical, laughing at the absurdity of our situation. We let go and lived life. We were together at 4am in a crowded gay dance club. There were hot ‘up for it’ guys everywhere and as we moved to the beat we knew that if gay men deserved a place of worship, then G.O.D. was their church.

I mentioned missing J.W. today and as the friend I was talking to glanced my way he noted that I looked as if I could cry. Being British and none too emotional it surprised me to find he was right, I could cry at my brother’s absence. No longer does he call me every lunchtime mocking himself and a scene that had been caused by another of his over-eager Thai suitors. We can’t meet for dinner only to get drunk on sake instead. And he isn’t there to listen patiently to my musing about Na before snapping me out of it to make sure I’m laughing too.

In short although the man says he has plans to return, he must return. Soon. I demand nothing less. Because until he does the world will seem just a little less well… blue.

J.W. – One-of-a-kind. A legend. Gone but not forgotten, as I adapt to party time without you by my side, I’ll try to ensure your (dis)honour lives on through me. Until you come back. Soon, dammit.

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Don’t feel blue. That’s for me not you.

x Teacher

Drama at the Disco

Students,

Some of you may have heard the rumours and the whispers in the streets of my return to the bosom of theatre. Yes sweetie darlings, the Drama Type is returned. Last Saturday night I trod the boards (or the dancefloor at least) in a piece I described as ‘expressive movement’ and some less-inclined teacher friends described as ‘a lot of posing and arm-waving…’ It is always a joy when colleagues heap platitudes on that which you are secretly rather proud of. Sigh. Sarcasm aside, the experience was most enjoyable. I had a great time, and a creative burst now and again is always welcome.

The venue was Luminous Bar, a three-floor club space in central gay town, Bangkok. The company was New City Collective, an assortment of artistes (no sniggering) from our native English-speaking community and led by a Mr. Jesuino. The party was organized by Trasher, a hippyish Thai troupe with whom I’d experienced an earlier night of colourful disco. And the piece itself was a devised work based around the party’s theme of Alice in Wonderland. It was non-speaking, lasted five minutes, and was set to a mash-up of trippy music.

Our group of five actors / ‘expressive movers’ began rehearsing over the few weekday evenings prior to the show. The drama ideas came thick and fast: larger-than-life physicality! Alice as a goth! Puppetry! …Yes, the dreaded ‘P’ word. Along with the dreaded ‘D’ word (dissertation) this did not make for whoops of joy from Teacher whom some of you may recall had to be coerced off a window ledge after choosing this topic for a university paper. My panic subsided however when, after one pained evening spent clutching a craft knife amid a mountain of polystyrene (‘styrofoam’ as I learned Canadians choose to call it), the looming ‘Queen of Hearts’ puppet was assembled and painted without my assistance. Mercifully I was also spared the operating of the thing save for helping to manouvere Mr. Jesuino who found himself groping around in the dark with his head up its skirt and his hands on its control rod.

My role turned out to be one of three hench persons trying to catch Goth Alice. We hunted her with a large white sheet hung from a bamboo rod. By dramatically rolling and unrolling the sheet we trapped her, spun her, and otherwise dazzled our club audience in a feast of fluorescent fancy! But the section of the piece that I found the most ‘real’ was when we hench persons began a choreographed routine with builders hard hats. This section was ostensibly to allow Goth Alice to hide under the Queen of Hearts’ skirt and change her outfit from black to white, but I think it was a remarkable coordination of efforts that channeled the best in YMCA glamour.

Witness the glorious pictures below and roll on the next show. The Drama Type is back... Sweetie darlings!!

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Dig out your spandex for a class routine.

x Teacher

Bachelor Pad

Students,

Although you may be only vaguely familiar with your teacher’s domestic life, I am delighted to report of my first permanent dwelling in Bangkok. After moving from The Pleasuredome, rooming with friends, and then a significant other (as previously blogged), I am now renting a spacious bachelor pad in a veritable gay community. My new one-bedroom apartment is within walking distance from the nightlife you know I am so fond of, and is also surrounded by a collection of happy homo-owners (sorry.)

It turns out that the ill-advised relationship of a few weeks prior allowed just enough time for a rental opportunity to come up in the building I previously stayed. Making an agreement with my friends and lodgers now means they’re my landlords, and we’ve embarked on doing up the pad with eclectic yet tasteful flair. So far I have a fully functional kitchen sporting a gas stove should I wish to (or have time to) cook. I also have a large fridge/freezer should I wish to chill anything other than water, wine, vodka, and ice (perfect dinner for one.)

In the bathroom I have a shower that fits two (already tested) and in the bedroom I have an Asian-style floor bed to accommodate myself and any Asian-styled guests (already tested.) The bedroom itself has some very bold apple-green walls and raspberry coloured decorative items. Of course the bed is black. From the bedroom one (or two) can access an outside balcony with enough floor space and privacy come any eventuality (already tested.) Two very important bedroom features are a Narnia-effect built-in closet (insert own joke here) and a stylish CD player for all those pre-club warm-ups… and post-club warm-ups…

The big decision now is whatever to do with the remainder of my main room. The kitchen and dining areas occupy some of its dimensions, but what is left offers tantalizing opportunities for private pleasures. Who could resist a cushioned dancefloor? Play room with accessories to bind and unwind? Ultimately this is an issue upon which I turn to you, devoted delinquent designers…

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Design for thine.

x Teacher

Sleeping on the job

Students,

You must forgive me today if I speak a little slower than usual, forget your name, or forget my own. I am sleepy. Actually not just sleepy, but in the midst of a constant battle with fatigue. I thought after a month of juggling daytime and evening work my body clock would have synched up and brought out the working professional in me. At least it could have given me something of a buzz in the mornings. Alas I was wrong. Instead I must now rely on fruit, coffee, and lightly slapping myself around the face just to get the brain ticking. But the worst thing is when I do actually make it back through my door at night I suddenly become wide awake and cannot for the life of me switch off and power down. I try to read but the words swim before my eyes. On occasion I head out into the night seeking solace in vodka and a spin with the regulars on the dance floor. But what if I were to meet a fellow insomniac? Right now the best he could hope for is some half-asleep gropage or, as with Saturday night, to wake up beside me on my kitchen floor, the bed being too far when finally my body gives up and zzzzzz.

Happily it seems employers aren’t noticing the bags under my eyes, the stifled yawning, or my staring off into space in a comatose manner. My day job is at a Christian girl’s boarding school. The English-speaking staff are beyond lovely, they chat and socialize, and can see I am trying. But I should be achieving more at this point and student marking is threatening to overwhelm my tired mind. Nevertheless classes are largely stress-free and the students are entertaining. They and I have fun together and the arctic temperature air conditioning keeps me chilly and alert.

On weekday evenings I rush across the city to the Grand Palace where my adult conversation classes require what amounts to a song and dance routine each time. For my new-age employers at the language school text books are out and FUN! FUN! FUN! is the idea. Do zombies feel fun? I can tell you from experience that no, they do not. My students genially play along but they, like me, are doubtless wishing they could be home with their slippers and a cup of tea…

So this is what I’ve turned into. A slave to work, a burned-out shell of my former self. And students, it’s you who do this to me. You whom I aim to please, titillate, and inform. You for whom I beat myself every day! Why did I choose this exhausting profession? Some days I close my eyes and search my ‘happy place’ for answers.

No comments? No questions? Good. Class you may be excused.

Homework: Go and get sick / burn down the school / cause a city-wide disaster that means everyone must stay in bed in the morning.

x Teacher

Love and Lunacy

Students,

I am a man who likes to try new things. Sometimes there are things that I like very much and wonder why I lived without them (banana bread, pilates, and jewellery for intimate places fall into this category.) And then there are those things that I try but that fail to grab me (liquorice, going to bed early, and doing drag fall into this category.) But I think it is good to push oneself and not always follow conventional / safe logic. Such was the case when I recently decided to halt my embargo on boyfriends and give it a try with a handsome 32 year old Thai gentleman and fellow clubgoer. I will point out right now that the relationship such as it was is now over, but it was an interesting experiment while it lasted. It certainly roused some previously forgotten sensations in me. Love? Who knows? Here goes with the analysis…

Let's say his name is Na. We had some fun at his place one holiday weekend and I enjoyed his confident manliness and the assertiveness with which he made the moves. As previously blogged I think there is nothing more attractive than the right kind of self-confidence, and I had seen him and been noticing that for some weeks prior to our meeting. His look is certainly striking and this makes him a successful ‘It Boy’ and business owner (he is a hairdresser.) What I had categorized as a one-time encounter then turned into more when, after not replying to his messages during the week, I saw him again on Saturday night. He looked at me in an intense way that immediately shook me. It was not normal, and as the music swelled in my ears I was drawn to his arms, body, lips. I think sometimes a mood or feeling just grips you. With me it is usually impatience, exuberance at work, or enjoyment of my friends. This time the feeling for Na was complete and consuming and it stayed there as we spent the next 24 hours together.

I’m not sure if it was him or me that first suggested dating, but it was definitely him that suggested I should move into his house. This he reasoned would ensure us being around each other to see if things worked as a relationship. In hindsight it was practically viable, but it meant the exciting dating part was lost. Had we lived apart and made time for dinners, seeing a film, or going for a walk in the park, then maybe we could have kept a lightness to the experience. As it was, co-habitation made things too domesticated, too serious, too quick.

Beginning a relationship is difficult for anyone at anytime. There had been a lot of time since my last ‘proper’ relationship and even then I remember feelings were less than strong. In the intervening year+ I focused on myself, getting better after illness, and getting better as a teacher. For the first time in years I was not one half of a pair and it suited me. I never felt alone or needy and I was not particularly resentful or bitter about those who had found ‘the one’. I had friends and opportunities for flings along the way. Then I was struck by Na, this great kind handsome sexy successful guy who invited me into his life. But, as it turned out, was reluctant to invite me into his heart.

Meanwhile my heart was wide open. And this is where the ‘lunacy’ of the title comes in. My new relationship unfortunately coincided with a set of problems concerning finances and a visa. It was necessary for me to borrow cash and take a 14 hour train journey to neighbouring Laos, stress about leaving/returning to Thailand, wait 4 hours for a return train in a nowheresville, then sit for 14 hours back to Bangkok. With little else to think of and little power on my I-Pod I started to obsess. Like I dunno… Ally McBeal. Yeah. Yeesh. Sadly all of this thinking manifested itself in an epic outburst the following Friday night. This is when I knew the relationship and I were not a good mix and, through no fault of his own, Na was not ready to commit with his emotions. In other words he was understating things and I was OVERstating dramatically. It is odd when your irrational Id explodes to the surface even as your rational Ego tries desperately to kick logic into the equation and stop the words spilling out. The upshot was he clearly (and at the time rightly) thought I was somewhat psychotic… I’m not sure what other Thais in the club audience felt as outbursts like that are often part of dating here…

The remaining time of what came to be a three-week relationship was spent avoiding everything but great sex which, of course, does not have to be an emotional act. At least between gay men. (My exasperated straight male colleagues and the new Sex and the City film inform me that girls are a different story.) Anyway it all came to an end quite peaceably and at my hand when I sat him down and explained why I didn’t thinking it was working for me or him. By a stroke of luck an apartment became vacant in the same building as my friends and this thankfully ensured homelessness was not a (big) issue.

As I moved out of his house a few days later we found upon reflection that we felt basically the same and had done all along. For various good reasons relationships had been, and should have continued to be, off the cards for us. But we tried and it wasn’t something I’d call a failure or a negative experience. We will not date now, but with emotions out of the way we may get on with what we are great at. And this could be something we share together because we still like each other a lot. I hope I’m not jaded, and the possibility of being with someone long-term might be a possibility in the future. I think a problem is that the relationship I have with myself is of paramount importance and still needs more time to grow. I enjoy my life as it is – so does Na with his life – and I feel the confidence and willingness to try new things is leading me in interesting personal directions. From 17 I found myself in long-term committed relationships and though these were wonderful, fulfilling times, I now feel I missed out on making it on my own and playing the field. I was also a lot shyer then and very much immersed in the mindset of social do’s and don’ts for relationships. It wasn’t necessarily oppressive, but had that kind of life situation continued it would have closed me off from the freedom and joy I feel living now.

So students, what did I learn? I learned that I am capable of feeling deeply and caring for another guy (I wasn’t sure.) I learned that dating a Thai guy means also dating his friends. I learned that I am somewhat selfish. I like my own space and schedule, and feel weird being publicly known as part of an ‘It’ couple. I need to learn how to be domesticated too. But most of all I learned that I still have a lot to learn. And that’s not a bad thing. After all I do have youth and looks on my side…

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: If at first you don’t succeed, try and try again.

x Teacher

Return of the 'It Boy'

Students,

I welcome you back. I did not retire or run away, much less abandon you, but chose instead to give up blogging for a bit and, given the chance, live a little. I hope you will forgive me. Being permanently based in Bangkok I’ve found an entirely different lifestyle to the previous one. Natalie has affectionately coined this the lifestyle of an ‘It Boy’. There was nothing bad about Lopburi life of course but options were severely limited to teaching, computer work, swimming/sunbathing, and watching TV with friends, grass, and a cool beverage. I was afforded much time to procrastinate with you, but was longing for something more. At the start of the year fellow teachers began to evacuate town and as teaching hours reduced I realized the job I was doing lacked purpose. So I decided to defect to the big city.

Bangkok is a wild and crazy place to call home. What struck me (and Natalie and Tara after they also came here) are the unlimited options before you. It truly is possible to do anything at any time. Making friends is easy and I am glad to say I have been spending time with many more Thai guys and girls. Of course my important relationships are still with old friends (the girls and Brad) and I try to keep our lives in synch as much as possible. It is curious to me how the people in your daily life can really make such a difference to its quality and how you feel as a person. I am endlessly grateful to Randall, Joe, Calvin, and soul brother J.W. for making the move so easy. It was a life changing action for positive reasons but, as with the whole fleeing to Thailand in the first place, it was done with little money, resources, or logical sense. I am happy to continue being near such caring people. They do not even realize that their simple acts of being around gives me so much and I like to channel the options in my free time towards them.

So what of the lifestyle? The work? The play? The boys? The ladyboys?! Upon arriving I knew that I had to take care of myself and hit on the whole healthy mind healthy body thing. I enrolled at a California Wow gym little knowing that this was to be one of the single gayest places visited in my life so far. I mean I’ve been to my share of gay bars and clubs, hell I’ve even been to sex shows, saunas (a naked party!), and an underground dungeon (purely for research purposes), but none of these quite compare to the weight room at Wow. There is rarely a woman to be seen, instead you see row after row of gods with glorious virile bods. There are young guys, old guys, tall guys, small guys, guys who are ripped and guys who are lean, guys who are beefy and guys who are cute. They all flex and lunge and cruise and peruse and when they’re done improving themselves they head out to shower and steam. Wow indeed. I of course follow and, not being known for modesty, occasionally partake in peek-a-boo antics with the horny few. But why so gay? Even before you step in from the street you can hear the thumpa thumpa of the dance music that we all know so well. Along with a personal trainer whom seems determined to hook me up with other clients, I think I may have discovered one of my queer nirvanas…

…The other one being the local club. In addition to aiming for physical perfection and continued mental balance it was also my desire as an explorer to break the enforced celibacy of former dwellings. It is an understatement to say that Lopburi did not offer much in the way of male attention. When it did, our group tended to find said males were… shall we say... not too mentally ‘together’ (further details in previous posts.) In Bangkok it’s pleasingly clear that my blonde-haired blue-eyed look is more in fashion.

I have often looked in the mirror and despaired as it seems to me that constant upkeep and repair are needed to keep the foundations from crumbling. Some lucky buggers have the fortune to roll out of bed each morning and be naturally pristine. This is not the case with me. I unfortunately am naturally lazy and having a cabinet filled with products is really not my thing. However, I can tell you that my modus operandi has always been to walk into aforementioned guy bars with an ‘I look a million pounds’ attitude. Now this should not be confused with arrogance. Plenty of gays put on their labels and strut around affectedly among the poor peasants they see without their own custom Prada. What I mean is if you have confidence that you are you and that ‘you’ is pretty bloody good then you will automatically emanate an attractiveness that can’t be bought; you will be 'It'. You know? I know that attitude is what ensures attention among the crowd and that is no different here than it was in England.

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It must be said that the number one reason (ok number two reason) I go out is to dance. I love following the music and letting loose. When I dance I do so with abandon. At its best this means that I am totally present in the now, following the beat with a big grin across my face. When I have my friends around me it is even better. If I could highlight an experience from my new life here it would be the dancing. I do it often and a lot and it regularly leads to 'A' number one favourite thing… For the ‘It Boy’ in me it all starts and ends with the dancing.

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Bang cock (That one was too easy, right?!)

x Teacher