Post-It Note - Exorcising Ego

Students,

A lot is changing in the life of Teacher just now. You may note that I am trying to find peace in my feelings and experiences as opposed to trying to find meaning in thinking and analytical reflection. It is what Thais and/or Buddhists would call ‘Sati’ – to remain aware with skillful attentiveness. This change in me also necessitates a change in the format of my blog. From now on the only drama described will be the amateur theatre opportunities I hope to pursue with a group in Bangkok. The mental drama I can see I have been creating with my unfulfilled life situation has to go. I will still find it is there of course but I will observe my struggling mind with its doubts and problems and not let it become me, my identity. I aim to live free of control from my own worst enemy and all its negativity. I think this will greatly improve my interaction with others and the world I inhabit.

When I talk of mind I refer of course to Id / Ego / Superego. Freud was certainly ahead of his time but now I believe that rather than simply identifying the way we are, he was actually identifying a problem common in our behaviour as humans. I learned a lot reading Eckhart Tolle’s book The Power of Now. Even though his prose was occasionally overblown, the main theory that we as a species should relinquish control from our mind and accept what is if we are to find personal and collective happiness and balance is one that makes sense for me.

For the reasons detailed I am exorcising Ego from my life. I am guilty of saying things in conversation that bolster my image or score points. I think everyone does this to some extent because it is a symptom of a ‘dog-eat-dog’ society. It is not a useful practice because the satisfaction you get is fleeting and comes from a place of self-doubt and vulnerability. Upon recognizing this for what it is I have found it becomes very easy to speak freely, know that you could never be seen as ‘fake’ or ‘phony’, and also it is great to feel that you truly are at one and expressing your feelings.

The format of the blog will change so that the text is less ‘smart’ and, even though a lot of what you might call my ‘self-promotion’ is done in jest and for those who know me personally; I am going to be more open from now on and have less resistance to describing my feelings. I will cut back on the snark, observe, and accentuate the positives. Let’s call my 12 numbered blog posts a ‘12-step’ to recovery and acceptance and a farewell to the dirty mindedness of Id / Ego / Superego. Students, I hope you enjoy what is to come. I am feeling creative.

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Stay tuned in.

x Teacher

Post XI - Leap of Faith

Students,

Did you know that February 29th represents a ‘Leap day?’ Leap Years were added to the modern calendar to keep it in alignment with the earth’s revolutions around the sun. 2008 has 366 days which means that today is one extra day given back... Sucks for people who were born on a ‘Leap day’ as their birthday only rolls around once in a while. But what it means for the rest of us is that we are gifted a day. Makes me think something special is needed.

So far today I have not achieved very much. I was up late last night marking exam papers and this distracted me so much that for the first time since I entered The Pleasuredome a couple of weeks ago I was left to face the prospect of sleeping on THAT BED without the aid of alcoholic intoxication. The only remedy I could find to knock myself out (and also knock one out in the process) was to reach for some Sangsom and relive the raunch of the Mexican film Y tu mamá también with the delightful Gael García Bernal. When I awoke (and after clicking my spine back into place) I left and have made it so far as blogging with you. Plan was to head to Bangkok today for some r‘n’r but at some point I MUST sit down and complete my student grades. Teaching is thrilling sometimes, y’know? Thanks kids.

So now that I will be off to BKK tomorrow that leaves me in Lopburi with time on my hands and superstition on my mind. What can be done here that hasn’t be done before? Instead of making a major commitment to doing something, I am going to make a minor commitment to doing pretty much nothing. Pretty much. Rather than look at the big picture I will go small and have faith that I can fill my day with random notions requiring little effort and that make even littler sense…

…One thing I am often told is that I should smile more. Of course I live in ‘the land of smiles’ but actually smiling is quite a tricky thing to maintain when there isn’t necessarily anything to smile about. Not smiling here is frowned upon, yet lately my daily duties have been filled with tedious end-of-semester paperwork so I have not been as inclined to giggle along with the gays in my office. That will change this ‘Leap day.’ I will commit to walking home with a grin plastered across my face. I’m sure this will interest passers-by and the sellers on their food carts. Thus I will find out if smiling really does make a difference.

Another matter raising my attention lately is that I am unable to say “No.” That’s right students, as you know I am a giver but sometimes I find myself in compromising positions (read: sticky situations) because I cannot bring myself to refuse. I tell you “Yes! Yes! Yes!” is sometimes not the best answer. It can lead to terrible incidents such as detainment on long bus journeys, being forced into singing If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands to a packed auditorium of Thai students, or even (more concerningly) being videoed grinding one’s hips with a female student after being coerced into a dance routine… Yeech! Memories of Loei be gone. (BTW it is a mystery why these videos of farang never seem to turn-up even after repeated questioning… There is still one somewhere showing me in drag and on-stage shaking it as Beyoncé at a school English camp.) ANYWAY today I intend to remain non-committal, but given the ‘Leap’ I will change my response to any questions that come my way. “Maybe (baby)” is to be the final answer.

And now to Id / Ego / Superego for suggestions on how Teacher’s (precious) time woulda coulda shoulda be occupied…

Id: Honey it’s so sunny let’s do somethin’ funny. Stare up at the sun for a mo, blink wildly for a mo, and then close eyes tight to witness a variety of (exciting) blobs, stars, and flashes. ‘Leap’ time of approximately 2 minutes can then be spent making out shapes and wondering is mo’s Subconscious speaking?? Or is it just that lezzie Ego again….

Ego: As a lady of certain persuasion I can do irrational on occasion. It’s all about the mind, and the powers of the Psychosis could do with a work-out. My ‘Leap’ suggestion is to use that secret power of yours. Let’s focus on someone near – say the cute Thai guy giving his right hand a work-out over video games – and silently mind probe him into doing your bidding. Start small, maybe willing him to bend over… Where there’s a will there’s a way, right? Then it can be taken further with another kind of probing to satisfy Id. The law of averages dictates that sooner or later a mind command will come true (even if it is only that said guy turns to see a farang staring intensely and with cross-eyes) so keep faith and stay with the cause! ‘Leap’ time of approximately 5 minutes on offer here.

Superego: As you know I swing both ways so I offer a different perspective that requires a second helper. Think about it: you are a tall guy and this gives rise to much opportunity. Some are less fortunate. Be a giver this ‘Leap day.’ How about returning to The Pleasuredome, locating the cat pe(s)t and allowing It to see things from your point of view. Instead of Its usual 2' high sight, pick It up and give It a look at the world from your angle. Then reverse and take a look down there with It. Be a man, follow the pussy. ‘Leap’ time of approx. 10 minutes means I’m the winner!

So students, I have offered a whole heap of Leap possibilities for myself. How will you pleasure yourself today?

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Sleep for ‘Leap.’

x Teacher

Post X - Superego and the Superhero

Students,

A wise man once said that it’s sometimes beneficial to look back in order to go forward. That wise man was me. Unlocking the mysteries of Teacher’s mind is not what this blog is about, but skimming the surface and pricking one’s Ego is. As you now know, I used to be a Drama Type. During this eclectic period I came across many versatile techniques to get to the bottom of top-heavy questions. Such troubling questions included How come my body reacts orgasmically to the taste of a pitted olive? and Why must the show go on? The techniques for answering included downing a quart of r*m, poking a lot of b*m, and smoking some p*t for fun. Another proven (by Ms. Tabbayabbadingdoo) method was ‘Emotion Memory.’ Simply put, this involved using one’s Superego to feel your way around your past. For certain Drama Types this resulted in a bit of staring into the middle distance while whispering about a beloved pet hamster that passed on while also forcing a single tear to roll down the cheek. For others, the Superego produced some decidedly juicy gems. It just depended on the question…

As example of the above, I asked Superego a question earlier (leaving the other two headspace-occupiers out for this blog) and was surprised by an answer that may have far-reaching consequences for the future. May. The question: Whom was your first schoolboy crush? Students, in order for you to picture me in those student days I may tell you that I was the dog’s bollocks (English: pretty nifty) at dressing. I also moved with the times when it came to my looks. I moved from shellsuit --> repressed Christian --> hippy --> club boy --> goth (briefly) --> hollow-cheeked ‘artist’ --> Mulder from X-Files --> James Dean ‘rebel’ --> scarf-wearing Drama Type. Now I had thought the answer to this first crush question was very simple: Captain Kirk. But no, ‘Emotion Memory’ has finally revealed more. I would like Superego to explain in his usually insightful way:

Superego: As you know I do not swing both ways on the wills of men, “I will, I will, I will” is usually my answer (especially if Id is involved.) You might say I am as firm as the hand of God. But there are some who cause a stumble in my step. These types often have that special something, and as an impressionable pre-pubescent there was always one superhero whom I thought had it all. Step aside Captain Kirk for I would like to introduce another 60s icon, Captain Scarlet. As you can see from his picture, Scarlet is everything you could wish for in a man. He is a full 20 inches in length, is hard like wood, and blank of stare. His strings can be pulled any way you want, and he will never have a pissed off expression. Because he only has one expression. In addition Scarlet has a faux Cary Grant British monotone and his first name is Paul. He can be manipulated into operating any kind of heavy machinery, and he retains a stiff upper lip in a crisis. There is a reason for this however. The thing separating him from all other superheroes is that he is indestructible… You could turn a machine gun on him or blast him into space but he’d still come back, perfectly sanded-down and head screwed on. What a guy!

I’m not sure if what I wanted was to do Scarlet or be Scarlet. Doing Scarlet would mean I’d first have to sever his ties with Destiny Angel (hair of copper wire and voice of French polish) and his boy toy Captain Blue (all chiseled features though a bit of a plank.) I’d also have to hammer into shape his arch-enemies The Mysterons (think Stephen Hawking meets malevolent flashlight.) But it would all be worth it. Even the risk of splinters. To hold in my (one) hand that moral compass. On the (other) hand, being Scarlet would insure me against all manner of mishaps… I could race into compromising situations with spunk and vigour, most de rigeur in the knowledge of my phoenix-like triumph... To muse on these notions is good for the soul and Superego is happy using ‘then’ to find the answers to how in the ‘now.’ Though this Drama Type does not have a ‘Type’, that same Scarlet Type was found… One beloved ex was noticeably short, had jet black hair, heavy eyelids, could come off as plastic, and always came back no matter what… Ouch!* Be a man, Myster(on) man.

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Show me a gay superhero, geek!

* Seems after my catty comments above, the beloved ex in question is having the last laugh and is engaged. Congratulations! ...Gays getting married, whatever next?

x Teacher

Post VIII - A Bitter Pill. Swallow!!

Students,

Bitter is a word with a few meanings, my favourite being the cool alcoholic beverage I am too geographically far away from to consume. It also has the meaning ‘to leave a bad taste in one’s mouth.’ Unfortunately today that is what Teacher has in his mouth and it is not something I am able to swallow down (though as I’m British I will not spit either.) A warning: you may guess that there is a storm brewing and you’d be right. If you do not wish to spend the next few minutes hearing thinly-veiled attacks on everything and everyone around, you may wish to excuse yourself, pop an apple on my desk, and return later……….. Ok? You choose to stay? Good. I assume that means you enjoy a good bitch-fest as much as any radical lesbian or muff-diving Christian.

I would like to tell you that the world I see around me is full of rainbows, smiling gay faces, and that daily I am up to my elbows in ‘A’. However that unfortunately is not the case. I, like you, have to deal with a range of unpleasant chores of life such as paying bills, marking students work (maybe you don’t have to do that you lucky buggers), and bugging the zoned-out staff in my hotel home to FINALLY do something about properly fixing my internet connection. If any of you can inform me whom I have to shag to sort out that problem then you also will be considered for ‘A’ from me… I am unsure if it is due to my former employer (read: prancing git) passing my evening classes to another teacher whom he considered to be worse off financially so leaving me with more time on my hands and less cash to flash or if I’m simply feeling some January blues. Either way I am sure that my patience is eroded and my frown lines are deepening…

Now I know it’s not in my nature to have a completely worry-free outlook and as my wise mother tells me “Boyo you are intolerant”, but I just wish sometimes that I could be a bit more ‘zen’ than I find myself able to be and not quite so inward thinking… Are you listening Id/Ego/Superego?? I am in the ‘land of smiles’ and at the moment all I do is bitch and get confrontational with those who cross me. I don’t want to look back in a few years and say “Oh Britney was I an obsessive nut job or what?” Thing is I’m sure personal friends wouldn’t suspect I was such a negative person but often when I’m on my own I think negatively and can’t just let things be… And that’s when I start to blog and you lucky students get to listen to my rant!

Sooooooo in an effort to feng shui my subconscious (read: offload), in our blog today I will allow Id/Ego/Superego to each choose one matter to give their two pence on and then said matters shall not be discussed again. (Former yellow-woggled leader of) Scout's honour. Oh and Id has been too vocal lately so he only gets one pence:

Id: Head in bed only this week, honey. No ‘A’. So… No point in beating yourself (too much.) But(t) you gotta get some juice into your (love) machine. Go get into another tight spot and find some thrust for your life. Fill your nights with play and your mornings with lay. Roll in the hay and continue being gay gay GAY!!

Ego: Students by now you should know this mo aint no goodie goodie and he aint no racialist neither. Everyone is equal and everyone (occasionally) deserves short shrift and spankies as much as they deserve praise and tongue-kissing. What I’m going to talk about then is a point concerning simple Thai folks. I do not mean to generalize and I love this country. No offence is intended (Id: “Even from a dyke’s mouth”) and none is taken, but observations must be made.

The Thai way is one where everything must be kept happy and smiley and tradition is very important. Sounds peachy, right? Yes it is until you want to do something but can’t ‘just because.’ The ‘just because’ in question is often that someone high up does not agree with it. Now as much as I love my Queen I do not think she is a deity. She is a human being who must blow her nose, visit the loo, and deal with unpleasant people just as I do. She is not above questioning and I have the right, should I wish, to suggest she is not a good Queen (which I wouldn’t because I like her, Edward on the other hand…) So if I am instructed that I must wear black for 100 days during working hours and stay in and not have a social drink on Saturday night because an 85 year-old woman of royal connection died of natural causes then have I not the right to say “That sir is dumb”? Apparently not or I will be court-martialled (And these minor points are completely the tip of the proverbial iceberg.) What makes it worse is everyone pretending to care when they actually (in Lopburi anyway) ‘couldn’t give a monkeys.’

The Thais usually have a disturbingly casual approach to hearing of death: they shrug off that a teenager was mowed down by a bus but for an 85 year old woman with a privileged life they put up a big show of sorrow. This is all about keeping face socially and never actually saying what’s on your mind. Ever. And it begins to grate. I’ll wear the black (it’s at least preferable to yellow) because this isn’t a question of respect (for which I am happy to oblige); it’s a question of being an individual with a mind that is your own. If Thai people wish to move on and change their country for the better they really should quit thinking others are better than them, quit gossiping quite so much, and form an opinion based on the facts at hand. Doing otherwise is, in my opinion, infantile and counter-productive.

BTW it is never a bad thing when Thai men make me their king… Toodles!

Superego: I gotta try and impose some decency while dealing with a whole lot of wants from brother Id. All his wants can comfortably fit into three categories: men, food, and drink. There is one place to visit to satisfy these and that place is 7/11; a grocery store chain found in every township. Sadly, as the chain is American it is hopelessly stuffed with gross junk food (and its Thai influence means any and all snacks usually contain some kind of fish flavouring.) However these points are not the only downsides as I will explain later.

I go to 7/11 daily for items such as green tea, iced coffee, water, soda water, liquor, ham & cheese toasted sandwiches, noodles, razors, gum, phone credit, and the occasional pack of cigarettes. It’s proximity to the market makes it a perfect place to spot hot Thai guys in their natural habitat. As has been mentioned in a former post, I was also picked-up by a Tarzan look-alike there (FYI I did not allow him to make me his Queen Jane…) so 7/11 is handy all-round. However. Being a convenience store I’m sorry to report that it is often far from convenient.

As you know I swing both ways and am a chap able in dealing with problems of right and wrong. To help improve my mood (and halt Id’s desire for problem-solving through violence) when I next go there to be serviced (pun intended), I have authored the following brief open letter to 7/11. I hope that should they pop by and read this, the Thai operation will make some changes (or make some sackings.) Be a man, give their hides a tan.

From the pen of: Teacher
To: Kind Yanks
Date: I don’t do dates

Dear sirs and madams,

I feel compelled to point out some problems with service in your Thai stores. This is largely to do with customers who clearly feel polite social codes do not apply to them, but also is in part down to employees not being on the ball. Please attend closely the following points for having worked as a retail lackey over several years I know a thing or two. And it will be me who gets others blood on your store’s produce if things don’t change.

· If I am waiting patiently in line with my goods please could your staff not serve the first person who comes dashing in from the street to pay a bill, thus rendering me invisible? Not only does this snap my patience like one might saucily snap a cheeky lover’s knicker elastic, but it also sadly means I will be waiting a whole lot longer since the customer will typically have not just one bill but three or four they have saved to pay together. This of course is easy for them but it makes me want to make things even easier by ensuring they never have to pay another bill again. Instead they can rest in a baseball bat-induced coma after I’ve taken their rudeness to suggest they would like to be rendered a vegetable. Please may your staff assist me in telling these folk the Thai equivalent of “Back. It. Up.” The employee would not be considered rude. They would be providing a humanitarian service.
· I cannot speak fluent Thai and your employees cannot speak fluent English. We are therefore equally matched and must interpret each other through the few words we know of each other’s language. All I ask for are “Sangsom” (liquor of choice), “True Move ha-sib” (phone credit of fifty baht), “Sandwich ham cheese”, and “Tylenol” (drugs required after the headache that oddly seems to hit as soon as I begin queuing.) Since I use the Thai verbal tones and often also point or perform charades to demonstrate what I want, I do not understand the confusion or need for three staff to listen to me repeating myself. Strange that nine year-olds can interpret me but educated adults cannot. The only thing I can think is that I am seen in the queue and it’s then decided as I’m a foreigner I cannot be understood. Believe me I have been there: I used to serve drunk Glaswegians for a living. There is no more impenetrable accent particularly with the accompaniment of alcohol (and some also hate the English) but I persevered, and never once got my face broken. Should your employees continue to serve me with their brains switched off they may not be so lucky.
· I am not a person who especially cares what others think but I do care when I am talked about in plain sight. Staff know I have been here a while and so should also know that I know the meaning of the word “farang” (English: foreigner.) Y’know? I expect to hear this every time I walk past some gossipy fishwives on the street but I do not expect or wish to hear it as employees pass comment on me while I wait in the queue (particularly after I deliberately smiled and greeted them when I first walked in.) Yes, I have been seen inebriated in the store with Social Director on more than one occasion. Yes on one such occasion I made a loud pronouncement when asked about a certain bodily organ. There is lots of gossip fodder but could everyone just do it when I am leaving or at the back of the store trying to locate the one brand of noodles out of twenty varieties that does not contain either prawn or shrimp??

Thanking you Americans in anticipation of your kind support.

Teacher.

Ps. I like Obama now.


So you see students, everything can be sorted if you just take the time to put things right. And also know that you are always right. Should you feel offended by my rant then please avoid me anytime I really have a 'bee in my bonnet.' I hope precious ones you are not offended and know me well enough to percieve that I usually am as sweet as a smurf dipped in chocolate and rolled around in sprinklings before being dressed in a pink tutu.

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

No homework today: I’m not marking more.


x Teacher

Post VII - You won’t ever want to come / go back

Students,

Advertising is something I would never usually do (even though Ego doesn’t mind self-advertisement now and again) but after mine and the gang’s sojourn last weekend to a sleepy (read: comatose) corner of the Thai countryside I feel I really must allow our hosts the opportunity to sell what is available for the foreign tourists the village hopes to attract:
----------------------------------------------------------------------
Come farang enjoy see old Thairand… Thai style Thai style!!!

You see things NEVER see before:

- The dam of water. Put your head through giant sunflower for photo – nice!
- Ancient pots and pans from forest people of 10,000 years ago (according to Japanese…)
- A forest with swamp where water comes from underground and there are many trees. Look Pollyanna! That one is green. That one is big… Take photo!
- See exotic fruits and vegetables. Look! A lime.
- Take a tour around village in car of tractor. 1mph speed. See amazing sights. Look! The dam. The sun. A field. A cow in the field. Smile for photos!
- Wake up early for go feed monks. Don’t look. Don’t speak. Don’t touch. You no wake up? The fairy comes to wake you anyway. Give him a banana! And he has a girlfriend, you know? Hahahahahaha shriek.
- Eat dinner on floor. Green curry - Thai style! Sticky rice – Thai style!! Move and talk to everyone, they Engrish learn. And fairy says speak Engrish on microphone.. is “f*cking c*nt” Engrish, teacher? We take photo and video you.
- Eat girls. They come. See you. Take photo! And see dancing girls. The music of xylophone and music of wail. You NEVER see Thai style before! I love you.
- Go bed same village Saturday night 8.01pm. Bad dogs guard you sleep.
- Sleep on wood table in Thai style RESORT house (read: shed), yes? No puking. Mind the sign.
- We give you form to fill. Take everywhere for essay write. Then take photos. Then go see monkeys.. NEVER see before! Take photos! (No wear flowers.)

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Id: No honey for honey. Or even money. Rest for wicked this weekend. Husband only one getting ‘A’. Go swimming in it! (But not in the country.)

Ego: Be British! Stiff upper lip only thing stiff in country. Unless you count scared stiff. Or stiff back from ‘bed.’ Or stiff smile. Village full of stiffs.

Superego: In the country I only wanted to go one way: home. Save it for old folks / hippy skanks / God botherers (“Ooh we can conver.. sorry, tell them about the Lord”) / swotty Japanese photo fetishists. Oh and be a man Chinese man: come out of the closet it’s nice out here and you playing straight must be such hard work.

Now before you go, let me be serious for a moment and say that the planning of the trip described was very hard work for the Thai locals and for that I am appreciative and mean no disrespect. As ever a little light ribbing is not uncalled for. However a fairy is to blame for coercing my group into attending and really should have been more forthcoming with the conditions and requirements of the area. I told him as much during the past school week. If I'd been in possession of the facts I would never have agreed - or dragged along my cohorts. Even though I come from a rural area and am used to roughing it, there is roughing it and then there is roughing it. Our experience was the latter and I am indebted to Brad and Natalie for coming along so I didn't lose my mind with the snap-happy Japanese (who were ridiculous!) or commit violence to an overly-eager headmistress.

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

.

Homework: Put that lime to use and make me a little gin and tonic, sweetie.

.

x Teacher

Post V –

Id(iot) likes planting Seed

Students,

It has come to my attention that some of you may have observed myself and ‘good time’ girls Lady Tara and Lady Jasmine getting what the Thai locals call “mow” and what you may call pissed. Lady, I’d like to tell you you’re wrong, but that could lead to sticky situations and more than my story coming undone. In short, such lies would necessitate spankies. Our dear friend Sigmund may have been wrong about some issues (I have personally never thought of my mother in that way) but on matters of the greedy id when he is right he is right, right? And so for our blog today I wish to detail the (some say) wicked temptations in this monkey-sex town of Lopburi. One in particular comes to mind and that one is Seed Pub, a late-night establishment that students should - not ever – care to attend (but annoyingly, do.) At this point, a word or 160 from Ego, mistress (or Mr.) of ceremonies:

Ego: As the rational lez in this mind (f*ck) sandwich, may I beseech you to remember the high moral character I embody between the ‘anything goes’ Id(eas) and the yes sir/no sir top -> bottom imbalance of (NOT SO) Superego. Teachers have a duty to be everything to their students while fresh of face, young of spirit, and strict in action… (That’s action not in-action.) What must be kept frontal lobe is the oft-quoted “Work hard, play hard(er.)” Which, it is certain, is what this dili-gent teacher enjoys. “Youth is wasted on the young” is another of those academic sayings that drifts into my mind space from time to (closing) time. The point(s): “Learn it before live it.” “Work before play and play before work.” But separate the two. Always. Cooking in Hell’s fires is the result if you don’t… There that’s all the flogged-to-death analogies from me for now. Don’t have nightmares.

Now. To Seed. I would describe this Lopburian lounge as a place (It’s) Britney (bitch) would call home. As you see from her photo above, students she is an example of an individual of upmost class. Much like Seed. And, like Id, she would no doubt savour the crush of sweaty young bodies, appropriately inappropriate gropage while en route to the water closet, the series of catwalks populated by nudish nymphs bopping to stimulating (read: erotical) beats, and the hot (in the dark) waiters responsible for much of aforementioned gropage…

Saturday P.M./Sunday A.M. with my Ladies was tame compared to previous visits. You see I would never have came across this special devil’s playground were it not for my keeping company with some naughty (but nice) Thai associates. This gaggle of gays spirited me off there once, and I’m proud to say before we had the mainstream (as evidenced by my students) blocking the dance floor (read: dance square.) Back in the golden days of yore (not quite when all was still in black and white but not yesterday anyhow) it offered even more. It was simply Seedier. One could rub shoulders (and other body parts) with pimps and their prostitutes, various gender benders, and very many model-esque young upstarts in very little attire…

Possibly my favourite Seed-y night can be seen amid the photos of my earlier Picture Post, though sadly this does not quite do justice to an experience that saw Natalie mowed with the mo’s, Brad re-applying his clothes, and myself declaring “Anything goes!” Well actually I had a little (or big) bit more to declare but that’s best left as memory for the poor sober ladies of 7/11… At this midway point the gag will be removed from Id’s mouth so he can spew some muck:

Id: I’m a go-er that’s for damn sure. What goes on (with) the head is why I’m in this race. And the Thais they loves that honey, too. You gotta keep awake in this heat, see? Gotta be active not passive else you’ll be sleeping on the job. I am cock-sure about one thing though and that’s the education those students will get if they keep on going. No, I won’t be the provider. Nor will the TV… Unless of course it’s a different kind of TV…

Insightful. But students, what this really comes down to is the ‘A’ grade fun one can have as part of the after-dark crowd. While I cannot guarantee vampirism will provide you a tonsil-tickling social circle, what I will say is that the Thais do know how to party. And I will play Peter Pan on the club scene as long as I can. The Lost Boys would expect nothing less. Given my recent unfortunate (read: ‘A’aaaaaaaaaaa(h)!) ‘A’ge change, my only concession is rule #1: 'not on school nights.’ At this (jumping off a bridge) point the final thought is with the alter-ego, Superego:

Superego: (As you know) I swing both ways. But I dress just one way. To the left. Debauchery is all good and proper, but will somebody please think of the children?? Oh good. Job done then. Be a man, agreed? Go Seed!

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Just say “No!”

Further reading: Today Teacher believed that the id of Student Chen could not possibly be heard from on a Creative Writing exam paper. How wrong. In answer to a question on using verbs to explain what you do at different times of day, under his ‘Evening’ heading he wrote ‘Having sex in bed.’ But it didn’t end there… In answer to a question on using 3 adjectives to describe Beyoncé, Chen chose ‘beautiful’, ‘sexy’, and ‘fucking hot.’ I of course expect him to achieve his usual high marks.

x Teacher

Post III - The Pleasures and Horrors of New Year

Students,

In a (rare) insight into my personal life I am going to give you a blow-by-blow account of my New Year. If you need the toilet go now. So it was all planned and would be very different from previous New Year’s with my beloved wife in Jersey. This time Khon Kaen in north Thailand. No crowds, few foreigners, and for Brad and myself lots of fun to be had with the natives. While Natalie, ever the sport, was happy in her role as Social Director (this meant her id had food and booze and sleep in pleasingly large quantities.) Looking back, I can say that we had a total blast and a lot of fun. With some exceptions. This blog is of course above personal attacks so the main ‘exception’ (read: old git) will not be discussed. So let’s be terribly Freudian and British and focus on the positives, shall we?

The city was very nice but the best thing was the weather. We were not treated to rain but it was cooler than a furnace for once. This meant I could bring out of the closet my new DKNY jacket that id and butch ego had had such a fight over buying in Bangkok (obviously id won.) In addition the locals were very friendly (Brad certainly found so…) I would like to tell you that during our time there we saw many tourist sights, but unless (hot) gay hustlers and one gap-toothed old dyke hooping and hollering after us count, all we really did was eat, sleep, drink, laugh lots, gossip, avoid the ‘exception’ already mentioned, and drink some more. In fact Social Director and I were so spirited with our spirits that after a while our bodies would not physically allow us to get wasted anymore and we had to move on to dancing instead.

My favourite things about Khon Kaen were of course sampling the local delicacies including ‘McChicken Sandwiches’, and the exciting bars we toured. The supposed gay bar was little more than a dark techno trash room with neon lights (yes I know what else is a homo disco?) but this one suffered due to no class (guys were huffing paint in the toilets) and no actual queers in sight. Much better was the Harem club where a near-nude lady gave me a lap dance and Brad a look of horror. But on New Years Day morning no less, our intrepid trio visited a bar populated only by police that had a bathroom our Social Director succinctly described as “looking like a dead body has been thrown around and bounced off each wall.” This bar was. Very. Exciting. At the time I felt like zzzzzzzzzzz. Kidding. No, it wasn’t a favourite highlight and at this point I would like to ask id / ego / superego to briefly explain why on New Years morning I had what Brad describes as “a deteriorating mood”:

Id.
No hoochie koochie, honey. One motherf***ing year older. Not “mow” (English: intoxication).
Ego.
The combination of being a quarter of a century old as of a few days earlier, and the ‘exception’ who does not obey the rules AND being peni deprived (read: depraved) led to the bad ‘A’ word: angst. I should know I’m a muncher.
Superego.
Knowing what was wrong who was right? As you know I go both ways. I had no right to be moody (apologies), it was right of y’all to leave me be, and it was wrong wrong wrong that ‘exceptional’ circumstances made us leave the boogie club and head to the grim reaper’s karaoke bar. Be a man, rise above it.

But back to business. What was the least fun and not favourite thing about our trip? (Though amusing nonetheless). Answer: the trip itself. Getting there was fine save for the near-death minibus collision but that was nothing compared to the purgatory of the trip back. There we were perched on a shelf at the back of a crowded bus with a never-ending TV ‘variety’ concert that had more panpipe musical numbers than Ireland has ever heard in its history. However. This trip took 8 HOURS. And it didn’t end there…

When we reached Saraburi, half an hour from Lopburi, we had to leave the first bus to catch a local one back home. But there wasn’t one. Unless we wanted to sleep on a bench with some monks and teenage prostitutes we had to check into the local hotel. This hotel was described by Natalie as “The Bates Motel”, by me as “Hell Hotel”, and Brad could only nervously giggle before regaining composure and informing us - and showing me - our neighbours in the next cell’s Nazi flags and describing how he believed our cell’s ceiling panels (one of which had a hook hanging from it) would be removed after-dark so that disfigured mutants could climb down and snatch us and fillet our corpses. As well as (aptly) having only a show about a mortician to watch on TV, we had to bear the many strange noises, suspicious stains on almost every surface, and the shower. We were afraid to use this after Brad (again being helpful) suggested should we peer down the plug hole we may hear the whimpers of a small child imprisoned at the bottom of a well. Thankfully we all made it out alive and intact after having been woken from our ten-minute slumber by a family of pigeons socializing on the window grills above our heads. It was a huge relief to get back to my hotel home where Natalie and I closed the trip in style by drinking beer in the pool and generally getting a bit rowdy.

So now the New Year is here and I have described our adventures, we will end the blog by hearing from id / ego/ superego once more with resolutions for the year ahead:

Id.
Another ‘A’ word to go with the others: Addiction. Think with brain not c*ck says a wise friend. I says keep ‘em coming. Honey.
Ego.
It’s 2008 not 2000 and ‘ate’. Cut the carbs. Keep at the gym. Do those lunges. Inclince those flys. Perv those pecs. And the fit man inside will out. Inner->outer. Healthy body, healthy mind.
Superego.
As you know I go both ways. Keep on top of the ‘addiction’ situation and don’t bottom out. As a teacher you are a moral centre. So be a man’s man.

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Fill me with your love.

Answer to homework from Post I = #3 is the one who came through in the end. Teacher got A*

x Teacher

Post II – Drama Types

Students,

Many of you may not know that I have had a ‘life in the theatre’. Yes I know. It’s true I was a Drama type. You could not tell, could you? Nowadays not a hint of flamboyance, not a single colourful sock in sight. But back then the world was different. England and Scotland were creative havens populated by kings and MANY more queens for whom the words “Turn down the lights, turn on the Commedia del’ Arte! Darling” would induce un-scripted orgasmic explanations to be quoted and remembered by an impressionable generation. Or something like that. So now this very blog pays homage to a homo’s icons of inspiration, elites of education, advocates of arse-licking. Ok, you get the picture. Now read this (affectionate) run-down from past -> present of id / ego / superego for a few Drama nutters. Some names changed for identifying purposes. Beware: like Harry Potter things go from cutesy to just plain scary. And the wicked witch is last.

5 or d
(i-s-c-o.) May-chelle
Most likely to exclaim:
“What happens outside the stage door stays outside the stage door ” (before launching into an uncomfortable emotional monologue about her personal life.)

Id.
Floaty scarf, pretty flowers, Strawberry Fields Forever. I love the nancy boy – shine a light on him! Hair up. Hair down. Hair clip. Wig. Head scarf.
Ego.
Oh darling I must acquire that patterned scarf so that I can float the school corridors with theatrical aplomb and flick it back over my shoulder as a character gesture symbolizing the shrugging-off of conformity. Oh my oh me I am the Ophelia child with student babes around me! I will inspire worship and devotion in my fairy follower by smiling as he wears long trenchcoats and make-up, and forcing a single rolling tear as he sticks the plastic knife to his heart. In every play in every lesson. Again and again.
Superego.
Shall I stay or go? Go. Gone.* Never forgotten…
* English mourns. Canada got her. Canadians suck. Cock.

4. On the floor. The Ram-age
Most likely to proclaim:
“I played Richard in Dumfries when you were still. An. Egg.”

Id.
Sex bomb. Sex bomb. You’re a sex bomb. Girls. Bard. Titties. Baaaaarrrdd. “Oeeeedipus. Rex.”
Ego.
Ego, moi?
Superego.
Like Hamlet I give myself over to it. That’s all. It’s a gift. Everytime. I feel it. I live it. It consuuumes me.

* The Ram-age wore hearing aids but a bigger problem was his blindness. Never once did he notice our group locking Erica in a room while playing ‘murder in the dark’, and on one particularly memorable rehearsal day he failed to realize that while he’d stepped out, Zainab had turned on the fire extinguisher, soaked the stage floor, and caused Alison a rather nasty mishap resulting in a bruised coccyx and her having to dry her crotch on the heater in a most suggestive manner.

3. Some. Ms. Tabbayabbadingdoo. The best Drama name. Ever. (Pseudonym close enough.)
Most likely to breathe: “The art liveth!! ”

Id.
Experiment. Evolve. Enlighten. Envisage. Anybody got anymore ‘E’s?
Ego.
What I want, easily gotten. Speak very slowly. Speak very quietly. Enunciate. R.P. darling. First open eyes wide then narrow eyes as if it’s like real deep. Word. Nod sagely with finger on chin. Only wear black, Greek widow black. When applauding always shake head from side to side and mutter something… even if you didn’t know what the f*ck that sh*t was all about.
Superego.
Right and wrong? The choice. The concept. The happening. The space. Physicality. Improvise. Adjectives. Go with it. Be IT!!!

­2. b or not 2. b. Ian The Shithead
Most likely to like lie: “ I dinnae ken ya wee rab” (“I don’t know guv’nor”)

Id.
­Ok. Priorities: Turn up, shake some hands like, perv on favourite male students. Avoid students who want to ask a question like about their degree thing-y. Oh! Call Scottish theatre bigwigs and schmooze like. Give a highly vague lecture and never fully give an opinion like ‘cos it’s all bullcrap really like… shhhh!!
Ego.
Ego? I’m a Scotsman. Yeah, right, use the accent. Yeah the brogue like. But lay it on thick like ‘cos then you sound down with the kids. Oh and chew gum always. Use the hands too like. And the arms like. And occasionally fling yourself violently around like to show that even though you haven’t got an opinion you are ‘feeling’ the drama. Like. And good one: if they start answering and making sense just get uncomfortably close to their face like and use YOUR face to squint, raise eyebrows up and down alarmingly, and move eyes left to right right to left. Backs ‘em off and works every time like.
Superego.
Right and wrong. It’s like all about the politics y’know. I used to do political theatre I know this shit like. They’re above you watching always like. It’s fuck or be fucked. Fuck ‘em up and fuck off. Ahem. Hands. Arms. Body. Gum. Brogue.

* (Yet) another issue with the above is the inadvertent slip that led to him christening me with a new nickname… ‘Pops’.

1. Love.
1. Hate. Lock
Most likely to bellow:
“The little fuckers aren’t doing a musical while I’m at the school!!!!!!!! ”

* What to say? Her often-downright evil machinations were sometimes a joy to behold especially as she picked off the weakest (and most square) members of the pack first with a sharp tongue-lashing or an eye roll. But you always knew she would get to you eventually. Or at the very least project her own ruthless competitiveness onto you, her victims, by turning friends against each other and intimidating others into sharing illegal gossip about who was getting-off with who. And she was a Nazi about paperwork. When she started to move towards you, speak in her baby voice, and call you some nickname you knew your days were numbered and the teaching fun was ending. And then it did. And the worst thing is it’s not over. I must return at some point in 2009 to face the Lock once more. Alone. And defenseless…

Id.
I am always on top. In life and in lov- Oh wait lov- No can’t say that word. Too bad. Yes I ride and I whip and my horse knows too well that if you try throwing me you get a damn good thrashing. Simple. I’m Lock. I AM the Drama. And I will write you a tragic conclusion if you cross me.
Ego.
What? Ego. No ego. No need. I do it and I get it. No-one will stop me. Not even brats with mentalist issues can knock me back. The ego is vain and I don’t have time. You do what I say and it’s your mind not mine that I’m interested in.
Superego.
I’m right. You’re wrong. Anymore questions? Hmmm?

There you have it. A lesson in life from the business of show. What a new concept. Yup yup yup sweetie yup.

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Drama teacher memories. It’s good to share the dysfunction.

Air kisses x Teacher

Post I – They speak to me

Students,

So as I sit in my Reading Strategies in English exam watching (and listening) to my hard-working students minds ticking over, my own mind wanders and the head voices start talking again...

Id.
Ego, honey, you better provide some answers ‘cos I’m fittin’ to squash this shit! Xmas Eve was when my thing last went ding-a-ling and I want to put another ‘s’ in exercise. And no, a rude-arse dream in the Saraburi Hell HotelTM does not count for real-life arse. The horror. The horror. Bring it! Iiiiii.

Ego.
Get a grip n(a)gger and buckle up your overalls… HUNTING the bone will lead you to nowhere but a museum of relics. Yes, I’m talking troll-like farangs with bald spot and fat cartoon body… So let’s stick with the brown skins and come up with good options. Then you can come down. Then you can come. There’s:

#1. And Mr. did you think him #1! Action Man. What’s not to love? H-O-T body (check), regular texts (check), money (cheque.)

Erm… maybe TOO good-looking so probably a player (takes #1 to know #1), and busy in Bangkok.

#2. The boy. Student (not mine.) Murder on the dancefloor = killer in the bedroom. Triangle possibilities as possible boyfriend already (whom you went through to get to him – naughty!) May mean drive-by death possibility due to Thai’s crazy-inducing angst rock music tendencies and crazy gun-toting tendencies.

#3. The older man. Haha yes – makes you feel young after recent ‘day that shall not be named’. Tarzan-lookalike, Olympic energy… Cons: may be conning. 35 and no English. 35 = wife possibility.

So. Pick and mix. Over to you….

Superego.
Ok. As you know I go both ways. I have another option. One word. Massage...
The Thais do it so well. Just put yourself in the hands of that handy masseuse again and you will forget your cares and your clothes. It’s not wrong that you help him jerk for work. TLC (To like cock) is not bad. It’s good. Be a man. Put your money where your mouth is.

Comments? Questions? Class you may be excused.

Homework: Help teacher get ‘A’.

x Teacher

Post 0 - The Making of a Blog

Students,

Welcome to my xclassx blog. The first thing to say is it is damn hard to do a blog. I am one of those types to start these things then get bored at the sound of my own angst and give up. I’m sure any readers would do the same if they had to decipher the back-and-forth contradictions of my mind. Not only am I not straight, I am not straight-forward. So that is why until now I have not done much cyber-sharing. But here I am in Thailand, far from my native friends, and still with plenty to say for myself and situations (usually involving our gang of miscreant Lopburians and naughty monkeys) to describe.

As mentioned, I don’t want to give you update monologues about me and my life and ‘where I’m at’ for we already have such shows as Dawson’s Creek and such warblers as Celine Dion (sorry, I know I should have put a warning before THAT mention) to give us that brand of introversion should we need it. And if you DO need that – or use your free time to pursue enjoyment (shudder) of either of the above – may I recommend medication. Or a gun. But I digress. What I’m trying to say is there will be no anal probing in this blog (though I’m sure even before the end of this post my favourite ‘A’ word after ‘arse’ will be used once more.)

But you see, why would I use this opportunity to attempt to unlock the mysteries of my inner and outer worlds when there are MANY more important things to discuss e.g.:

WHO will I bump naughties with next?
WHAT in the name of holy Hell is happening with Britney?
WHERE on (God’s) earth are those pesky missionaries gonna pop up next?

WHEN will I ever taste decent lasagne again?
WHY does it (never) rain on me? (was it because I lied when I was 17?)
And…
HOW exactly do Thai males AND females think they can look good with a
m-u-l-l-e-t??!

After a recent ‘iffy’ (read: shit) class I gave to my university students on Sigmund Freud (!) I have decided that the sex-obsessed, and therefore relatable, old fool may have been onto something. So that we can get to the bottom of all my questions (so to speak) from now on some of each blog post will be divided into comments from each part of my mind: the id, the ego, and the superego. To top it all off (so to speak) I will also very occasionally probe the MINDS of others to see what makes them tick…

Firstly though, so you know what I am on about we need a quick bit of cod psychology. Here comes the science bit…

Id = Our basic “I want!” instincts (sex, food, sex, drink, sex, toilet, sex, bitch, sex.)
Ego = Our rational mind. Seeks answers to those elusive questions and tries to help the Ego get what it wants.
Superego = Our decider of right and wrong. The conscience. Or the devil / angel thing. (Some of us) feel guilt here (some of us.)

So you will hear from my two blokes of the head and one questioning lady…
…What? I have a feminine side you know even though to look at I am All-ManTM. Matter of fact I think the lady may be a bit… dyke-y… but we’re all lovers not haters, right?

There. That was a great lesson, wasn’t it? And not even a lick of inappropriate innuendo. Please come back next time for the first official blog post. No homework this blog.

x Teacher