Spare Change.

The school has been looking into getting me a work permit and a teachers visa; it’s what the rest of the teachers have, and it more appropriately reflects what I’m doing out here than my current documents. I would have had to get a new visa anyway, as mine runs out in December. At least 4 months too short. We’re hoping that it can all be done in country, down in Bangkok, which would make things a lot easier. But the visa commission wants applicants to have at least 25 days on their current visas, so before I can head south I need to do a border run; go to the border, hop over, get a stamp and come back. It’s part of the Thai visa system, all required for me to remain here legally. So on Wednesday I got on a minibus and headed for Burma.

The List.

So I’ve got this headache bouncing around behind my eyes, singing horrendous, repetitive pop songs and seeing how hard it has to push before my brain dribbles out my ears. It’s slightly distracting, and the normal stream-of-consciousness-onto-paper dance that words do for me isn’t really happening today. So. Nothing too complicated. You’re getting a to-do list. That’s right, I’m sharing this little in-my-head checklist of things I need to do before next Friday finishes its hundred metre dash and smacks into me so you can all look at it and despair in the likelihood of me ever getting it done. Pain shared is pain halved, right?

I should add ‘Stop abusing metaphors’ onto my list.

1.      Tidy. Everything.

As in tidy away. In boxes, in the loft, to Oxfam. Chris is getting my room in a weird going away present; though I’m sure it’s meant to be the other way around. Still, while getting the room itself is fine he doesn’t want all the assorted junk of mine currently in it. Like the books (Not that books are junk, don’t let anyone tell you otherwise), of which I had enough to seriously consider starting my own small personal library. Even in getting rid of half of them I’ve can still fill two boxes; one turkey sized (Size reference not a coincidence. It actually held a roast turkey once. It’s got a sticker on it to prove it) and one big enough to fit in a 5 year old child with wriggle room (This box, unfortunately, did not at any point contain a small child. I know you’re all severely disappointed). You’ve got to go up a pretty steep ladder to get into our loft, so I employed those manipulative skills all women are born with to get my brother to hulk up the larger box; the tried and true method of ‘I am puny, you are not, do this heavy lifting to show how not puny you are.’ I sometimes wonder if you indulge us with this. You know, a subtle ‘I’m going to let you think you are cleverer than me by pretending I am manipulated into showing off my non-puny status.’ Or something.

I don’t suppose it matters. It’s kind of a win-win really.

2.      Get visa sorted.

Hah hah! I can tick this off the list! And perhaps put a big smiley sticker next to it. Because it’s done. My passport came back in the post today, now with a big red stamp in it looking all complicated and official. So you don’t have to totally despair. I’ve done something. Hah.

3.      Collaborate with Jane to organise the BBQ in a non-chaotic fashion.

I’m looking forward to this actually. I’m planning to make as much potato salad as humanly possible without collapsing into a puddle on the kitchen floor. While considering fridge space, of course. Can you store potato salad in a garage? I’ll find out. But that will be before I meet up with Jane. With Jane there will be cups of tea, and perhaps biscuits, and the sharing of miniature panic attacks resulting from trying to organise a reasonably large and complicated event in an unfortunately decreasing space of time. As well as the hiding of breakables. Just in case.

Before you say anything, yes, trying to do a BBQ for more than 10 people is kind of complicated. You have to prepare food, cook food, decide what to do with the mountains of leftovers (‘Who brought so much hummus?’) and with the BBQ itself maintain that fine line between food poisoning and catastrophically ashen. Of course, it will be a collection of men manning the BBQ. I think outdoor cooking just brings out the barbarian in them all or something.

And everyone better be praying it doesn’t rain. You can’t have a BBQ indoors.

4.      Stop abusing metaphors.

I’ll try.

Emma.

Things I have most definately not done today.

Anyone else feeling a slightly stomach crushing nervousness about this? No? Just me then...

Still, I am excited too. I love travelling. Love that odd and out of place feeling you get when you’re within a new culture, trying to remember how to ask those basic questions like where the nearest loo is (Always important. Last time there were several instances of “Tao ri...tao rie...ti na... Oh for the love of – who’s got that phrase book?”) I’m also going to try my best to find a foodstuff that can squick out the most people, with bonus points if it wriggles on the way down.

Not so excited about the sun though. I’m not built for sunny time zones. I’m built for rain and mist and the dreary British climes. My skin is so pathetically pasty that even my scalp burns, and who puts sun cream on their scalp? Makes everything horribly sticky. So, sun cream. A lot. Probably to the extent where you will all have to be careful to keep at least a one metre distance so you don’t suddenly find yourself stuck to me.

Just remembered this blog is meant to be some kind of informative what-we’re-doing-today thing, not an outlet for my complaints. Right. Does doing my jabs count? I know they were done ages ago... right, no, don’t count. Pete says he’s packed. Saying “I’m not packed” doesn’t quite seem to do things justice. Before I pack I’ve got to clean my room, so I can actually find those things that need packing. Before that I’ve got to find a place to clean things to. Not the floor. I’ve run out of floor.

I’ll find a cardboard box.

Next. Getting one of those lovely this-is-Thai-culture handbooks that Andrew has; honestly, that thing could train you to be a native. Pretty sure that permanently borrowing his is not an option. WHSmiths? Waterstones? Bah, I’ll find one. This is turning more into a list of things I haven't done...

Visa! Done that! You know, that thing that’s going to let me stay in Thailand for another year in a pleasingly legal manner (Not sure I’m cut out to be an illegal immigrant)? It’s all sent off with too many bits of paper, and should be back within the week. Ignore the rest of this post, just concentrate on this paragraph. Then I shall appear as if I have properly used this blog.

Don’t know the weather in Thailand at the moment. Probably too hot. But with lots of cloud cover. It's weird like that.

Emma