Sleep deprivation serves you nothing but ill will

I fell violently ill on the plane (yes, I know, my body is a complete wuss that CAN'T even put up with a 2 hour plane ride without going limp) and my next door neighbour, a kind gentlemanly Aussie (no they're not all crude and boorish, you judgy lot) was concerned enough to ask if I was alright. (Thanks for being such a sweetheart Matt =)

It could have been me laying my head down on the food tray and sniffling away throughout the flight that led him to think that I was sobbing heart-wrenching tears because of dumpage by some bastard (but since by all accounts, my singlehood is still very much keeping it's status quo, y'all don't have to worry about me being heartbroken and whatnot).

After reassuring him that all was well and that my dysfunctional body that is mystifyingly immune to most drugs if not all (uh huh, even your bloody valium, domicum, xanax, stillnox and what have you (don't look at me like I'm some sort of junkie coz I'm NOT; please keep yourself in the loop of my intimate familarity with said drugs before you start making ASSumptions aye), just will not tolerate re-cycled cabin air (which is still a great mystery to me since everyone else appears to be all fine and dandy), well, coupled with the 0 hours of sleep I got the night before I guess, we struck up a great discussion/discourse on the merits of living in Bangkok.

It's strange, but almost every farang that I've met who has lived there for more than a year is able to see the city for all her blatant and glaring flaws (rats and roaches as dining companions, agressive ladyboys tugging at your sleeve, garbage and insane traffic are but some of the few pleasant qualities of this awesome city), is still unable to let go of her. I mean, sure they gripe a whole lot but to really severe the ties and cut the strings completely, nuh uh, that's almost like asking them to give up their manhood. Or go through a castration of sorts. Jing Jing di, I kid you not. If any of you farangs out there happen to *stumble* upon this post, perhaps you could do me the favour of explaining WHY, why when you lot whinge and complain so much and yet still refuse to go home? *pssst* (Is it the Som Tam?) Or the Pad Ka Prao Nger?
Or has it got something to do with the drop-dead, gorgeous katoeys who can give a regular supermodel a run for her money any day? (No need for shame now, you Nana Plaza regulars, be proud, stand tall and represent your amorality! I will never judge you nor cast aspersions on your fine character because you favour these creatures of perfect beauty. But I cannot speak for others. I am loathed to be judged myself, so fret not dear friend)

Or maybe The exhorbitant sum you as a farang have to pay just to visit a national park or a Muay Thai Kickboxing match even though you've lived there for 5 years, can speak Thai fluently, eat Tom Yum Khai for breakfast, Pad Thai for lunch and Tom Yam Kung for dinner and have a teeny weeny Thai girl perched on your shoulder (read : the double-pricing just coz you look white, while all I have to do is say Mai Chai Farang, lot noi dai mai ka na na na na piiii? and I instantly get an indulgent smile and pay what the locals do)? Is it the sanook and sabai sabai attitude of the people and the city that makes you feel like you're in some surreal, dream-like land where everyone is somewhat child-like and will possibly never appreciate the humour in an episode of Frasier and thus make escaping our *first-world* country so much more enticing? (This I can definitely empathize with, for I too was once so badly enamoured of this city that I was, every waking minute scheming means and ways of staying there legally or otherwise; I really didn't give two flying fcuks at that point, trust me, I would have done whatever it took).

So blokes, seriously, WHAT THE BLOODY HELL is it then, if not for all that and barring the low-ass cost of living in BKK that is? Pray tell. All I seek is to understand. Do NOT start getting all pissy and defensive on me. I am on YOUR side. I reiterate, I merely want to understand the psyche of these particular farangs. Obviously I'm not going to dump you all into one same category. I'm talking about the ones who grumble incessantly but yet don't want to go *home*. Inquiring minds need to know.

In other news, despite not having slept for the past 27.85 hours, I still have loads of baking to do (chyeah, I'm totally your Martha Stewart doppleganger, you really think I enjoy this don't you?) But I know the more cognizant ones will know, actually KNOW the truth.

On that note, I shall proceed to my bloody unpacking, 34.67mins power nap and then into the torture chamber.

You should be so lucky.

Bah.