Merry Christmas...or..Am I Gay?

Did I just say that I loved Bangkok? Only 24 hours ago?? What a difference a lonely Christmas day makes. Actually what a difference getting hit by a pick-up truck on a super smoggy ride downtown makes! Cut off, and with minimal time to react I grabbed my brake handles too hard. And as my rear wheel went up in the air and I had no choice but to let off the brakes and plow into the side of this guys truck. I grabbed onto the side of the truck bed to prevent hitting the pavement and held on until he realized he was dragging me and stopped. This time I did leave a dent, but only in his car. I came out with a small scratch but more importantly my bike is fine!! The time for selective helmet wearing is over as I got a good scare today. But that isn't what I wanted to blog about...no, that is boring. I want to talk about one of my favorite topics (not bugs), my neuroses!
My close friend Cary sent me and email the other day about these blogs. She is scratching her head (acually banging it against the wall) once again in response to my whining about trying to "find myself" on this journey. She's had to put up with these rants for 28 years now and she's just about had it. Reading her comments I could almost hear strains of "Somewhere Over the Rainbow" and Judy Garland crying, "There's no place like home". And that isn't because I'm gay, or sectretly craving those ruby red sequined slippers (actually those slippers are kind of hot and I think I may declare my heterosexuality a little too often and maybe even too loudly). Maybe I am a little gay...actually I think I might just be...no...I'm gay dammit and proud to wear the colors of the rainbow!! Especially the softer, yet bright pastels that bring out my summer tones...um, sorry about this Sheryl but what a great forum for me to come out and tell the world! This does explain the face creme and hair gel that occupy my toiletries kit (as well as the fact that I call it my toiletries kit instead of a shaving kit)... because I have been discarding any non-essentials from my panniers all along S.E. Asia to lighten my load. The roads of Malaysia and Thailand are strewn with my non-essentials. You know, things like toilet paper...and underwear...although as I write that I'm thinking that one or the other of those two things, doesn't matter which really, would be considered essential. Especially if I were gay. So that sort of trends me toward straight. And wait, when I have sexual thoughts or fantasies every 20 to 30 seconds (and who doesn't) there is always a woman invoved! OK, good, you know what? I'm straight dammit. Straight and narrow path for me...sorry David.
Good God are you still reading this blather? Got a bit off track...oh, right. The reason I hear Dorothy "...and Toto too? Yes, and Toto too" is because I know that Cary is right. Why go looking for yourself in far off lands when the answer is right here in your own backyard. (Cue the music and roll credits). But a quick explanation of Cary is in order. She is not only my very first girlfriend/true love, she is also a life long friend who keeps popping up after long abscences and tells it to me like it is. Very strange to have a connection so deep after all these years that cuts out all the crap and filler (maybe she could be my editor) and goes straight to the point. She is pragmatic, I'm obviously not, and thinks all this naval gazing is a waste of time. Like at the end of the day all I will discover in there is a sweaty ball of lint and no enlightenment (other than I need to find some Q-tips). In a way she's got a point. What did I expect to find over here in the back roads of Asia that I wasn't finding at home (besides crotch rot and blisters on my ass)? Is the answer to "Who am I" or "Why am I" more likely to be found in some overly ornate Buddhist temple than it is at home? I mean, the Buddhist temples are so dazzling and beautiful and gaudy that I really don't want to close my eyes and travel inward. I want to look around! But if I do close them, the whir and click of a thousand cameras competes with the constant clanking of baht coins landing in the brass donation boxes. Hardly ideal for inner journying.
Or am I going to discover "The Real James"cycling in the middle of nowhere sweating out my electrolytes faster than a San Francisco bath house workout? (Hey, is that another gay reference?...because I'M NOT...really...although my face creme is by L'Oreal which is not a good sign...but I've tried Nivea and I just find it too greasy, you know?) God, sorry...I was, yeah, finding the real James. By now, if Cary has made it this far into this mess of a blog entry then she has bloodied her monitor with her forehead. (Ibuprofen my friend, 800mg three times/day is the max dose but take it with food.) Because even asking that question has her thinking (and emailing) "Shut the hell up and live your damn life instead of wondering how to live it!" "Instead of asking 'who are you', just be you and enjoy that you are you for f***'s sake!" (She can swear like a sailor if she wants to.) It's a great wake-up call every time we talk or email and I find myself nodding my head in agreement. Then I look down at my belly button again and ask, "But how can I just be me or enjoy being me if I don't know who I am"? The naval never answers. So I keep staring at it and think about the next days ride into the boonies in search of some far off Buddhist temple...sorry Cary.
Hey it's Christmas day in the real world...Merry Christmas everyone!!!