Liver 'N Onions. With Hair!

There's something on my mind that's really been bothering me lately. More precisely, there's something on my head that's really been bothering me; or rather, there's something NOT on my head.

Namely, this is hair.

Under normal circumstances, I have literally enough hair on my head for at least two other people; as if to mock this fact, it generally floats in a large, uncontrollable, puffy halo around my face. However, I am no longer living under normal circumstances.

I am living under the tyranny of an out-of-control thyroid. And one of the (many) things that out-of-control thyroids do to you is make you lose hair.

Clumps of it are lying on the ground, sitting on my keyboard, floating in the breeze. When I wash what remains of it, it clogs the drain. When I touch it, it comes out between my fingers; and when I cook, it gets into my food.

I hate when it gets into my food the most. I have to spend a lot of time searching for hairs and pulling them out of the way, and it's not fun to exercise that restraint when you are unbearably hungry all the time.

• French toast. With hair!
  
• Ginger-chicken and rice! WITH HAIR!!
• Liver 'n' onions...with HAIR.
  

My fast food needs no condiments; my ice cream needs no toppings.

Hair is an eco-friendly, recyclable, high-protein food source. I am the future.

The only problem is that there's not a lot of it left on my head. So I'm just going to have to pretend I'm really, really fond of hats.

Shocker: White People Can't Afford Everything.

The word is back on my computer--it's dead. Dead as in, the motherboard is broken and will cost more than the damn thing is actually worth to get it replaced.

Which means that I'm stuck using this overheated, semi-functional internet cafe indefinitely. It also means I've lost total access to all my personal documents, my passwords to various websites, my photos, my Chinese lessons, my Khmer lessons, and my global intelligence network, to name a few.

Last week there was a big uproar when Libya's intelligence chief, Moussa Koussa, defected to NATO. They thought for sure Libya's regime would crumble. The demise of my laptop is to me what that defector guy was to Moammar Qaddafi: I think I will crumble. I AM VERY DEPRESSED ABOUT THIS.

You: Why can't you just repair it, freak? Instead of always making outlandish comparisons between yourself and Middle Eastern despots.

Me: Because every single entry I write has to reference Middle Eastern despots, that's why.

And because I don't happen to have an extra THREE HUNDRED AND FIFTY PLUS DOLLARS lying around my house that I can just fork over to the nearest technician who tries to tell me I need a new motherboard.

And because I also spent hundreds of dollars on an extended warranty with Best Buy, knowing this would happen. That warranty doesn't expire till July. Why the hell should I spend obscene amounts of money on something that's supposed to be under warranty? I don't care if my computer is 12000 miles away from the nearest Best Buy. I WANT IT FIXED FOR FREE, DAMMIT.

And tomorrow is the start of Khmer New Year. This means that, because it looks like my laptop won't magically heal itself, I may or may not be able to get on the internet for three or four days, if ever, depending on what's shut down in Phnom Penh. I hate being at the total mercy of everyone else's work schedule. Dammit.

Laptop Down

I've got a lot of stuff I want to say right now, but you will just have to wait for it. Like me, my laptop has been partially destroyed by the force of its own heat.

Over the last several months, it kept becoming harder and harder for me to get it to start. Finally, I had to start keeping it in the fridge; then I had to keep it in the freezer. If it wasn't cold at all times, it would stop working. On Friday, it stopped working entirely. I'm pretty sure it's the cooling fan.

Anyway, I had to take it into the shop. Lord knows if they'll actually solve the problem, or if they'll just charge me a lot of money. I'm using an internet cafe right now, which means I can't stay in here long (it's unairconditioned and I still can't handle the heat as well as normal) and that I can't publish the entries I want (I have no digital and artistic capabilities on these computers, and darn it, I've got illustrations to put in).

So hang tight; if you try to contact me via other means, I may or may not respond right away. And I'll let you know all the tribulations of the Laptop Affair when--if--I ever get it back.

Now if you'll excuse me, I need to go get some fresh air!!

Electricity Costs A Lot of Money in Cambodia

So, I got my electric bill this weekend. And apparently it costs more to run things here in Cambodia than it does back in my Ohio, USA homeland.

Heads up to anyone coming out here thinking living expenses are cheap.

I fully confess that my time here has been marked by inexplicably high bills. I also fully confess that, due to hyperthyroidism and my consequent difficulties managing hot temperatures, I have spent the better part of my February running my air con full blast.

But NINETY DOLLARS? I mean, come on!! That's more than a lot of folks in this country even make in a month. That's like twice what I ever spent on electricity in the USA!! Phnom Penh has one of the most cheap, efficient and safe-to-drink water systems in the world, but electricity costs me such a large percentage of my monthly wages? I think my soul just broke in half.

Look, you can even see the source of my agony:

WTF?

I discussed it with my landlady, my co-teachers, and even my tuk-tuk driver. No one seems to know how one person can ring up all that. I do know, however, that the bill was initially given to the three people below me, who argued the cost. So the landlady gave it to me. And after some hard-hitting questions, I found myself extruding an extra hundred dollar bill from my bank account.

And what difference does it make? Like Gamal Abdel Nasser, I was born to a poor family, and I will live and die a poor [wo]man. The utilities companies will make sure of it. I AM PROUD.

Rant over, thanks for listening.

Earth Hour, 2011: Not a Moment Too Late

Anyone who knows me, knows that I am rabidly involved in the anti-climate change movement. This is largely because climate change threatens Planet Earth, the existence of which and upon which my future lies directly contingent.

Because I don't want to die, like Jesus, under painful circumstances at the age of thirty-three, I would like you to take a moment to consider the consequences of our actions on this earth.

Start small. Saving the planet is not easy! Speaking as one who has tried, I would say it's well-nigh impossible--impossible, that is, without YOUR help.

So here is an easy way to help: Earth Hour, celebrated this 26 March 2011 (i.e., TODAY) from 8:30 pm to 9:30 pm.

It's really easy! Just switch off your lights and every other electric thing for one hour.

Don't forget your fridge and heating/cooling! Be sure to unplug your laptop as well (I almost forgot; luckily my battery has insane power and I can still blog while I sit here electricitiless). Your home should now look approximatively like the image to your right.

Now we can sit around and stare at the blackness for an ENTIRE EARTH-SAVING HOUR!!!

Bad Thyroid! Heal!

If I have learned one thing during my time here, it is: Don't ever get a thyroid infection.

I think I am recovering from one right now, and it sucks. SUCKS.

Sometime in early- to mid-January, my body suddenly started destroying itself. You can read the very long version of what happened to me right here (and it still doesn't really explain everything I went through), but I don't want to repeat it all here. It's grim.

The illness was really, really acute for about the first 4-6 weeks (it's the "near-death" crisis that led me to create this blog). After that, it slowly started getting better, but suffice to say, it's still causing me some grief.

This is your thyroid:

When it's attacked by antibodies or a virus, it starts freaking out, shedding all of it's special "T4" thyroid hormones, which looks approximately like this:

Too much T4 shed into your bloodstream will intoxicate you. It puts you into a hypermetabolic state, turning you into an insane maniac that will eat everything in his/her path. You are also constantly freaked out and convinced that you are going to die.

Recovery has been a long, slow battle to be fought day-to-day, hour-to-hour, breath-to-breath. Hope and pray that you never have to know what hyperthyroidism feels like!

This week, I have been feeling okay (sort of. Except for the bone-weariness, sensitivity to temperatures, and the need to eat entire pizzas four times a day). Next week, who knows? I may feel 100%...or I may descend back to the depths of hell...it's carrying on waaaay longer than the internet says it's supposed to.

I shouldn't rely on the internet to solve my problems, but...the medical establishment denies that I even have a problem. They tell me it's "just stress" or a "bid for attention", or worse, that I am a drug addict. That would be funny if it weren't such an insulting falsehood.

So this is where the start of this blog finds me: trying to get better, and hoping I have nothing worse than a temporary inflammation of the thyroid (although if this is the case, I get to go HYPOthyroid next!).

No, it has nothing to do with Phnom Penh, but if I randomly die, this is probably the reason!

Why Cambodia Is More Awesome Than China

About a year ago, for reasons now lost to the pages of history, I decided I really, really, really wanted to teach English in China. So I bought a visa and a ticket for the next flight to Cambodia, where there was a TESOL training program.

I thought Cambodia was great starting from the time I wheeled my luggage off the carousel and crossed customs. Not great--fabulous. In a bubble of bliss, I came to and from teacher training each day. I joyfully shopped and ate at market each day. I learned a hundred words of Khmer and some numbers and spouted them off to everyone I met.

Then the month of training came to an end, and I grudgingly, tearfully, flew to Jining, China.

As far as grungy industrial Chinese cities go, I suppose Jining was up to snuff. But I'd look up at the perpetually grey skies and the Soviet-style warehouses that Chinese people call apartments...and I'd miss the vibrancy of Cambodia.

I'd look at the shit and vomit lining the streets of Jining; I'd spend hours locked in the bathroom because of E.coli-laced Chinese food...and I'd miss the personal cleanliness standards of Cambodians.

I'd parade around like a freak for the Chinese to point and laugh at...and I'd miss the subtle cosmopolitanism of Phnom Penh.

I became a scratching post for Chinese moms (who are literally the most savage people I've come across in my time, and this includes several Middle Eastern dictators), and hell, I missed the laid-back tolerance of the Khmer people.

So I came back. My situation deteriorated rather markedly in Jining, so I booked the first flight out of Jinan and came back to Phnom Penh. Like a refugee, I carried all I owned on my back and found myself living in makeshift accommodations.

And despite workplace drama, illness, thyroid inflammations, hunger, and ignorant people thinking I'm rich, I have not regretted my return to Cambodia. Not for one moment.

I am supposed to be here.

I say this not out of infatuation. It is core knowledge. For reasons that aren't immediately clear to me, I am somehow fated to be in this country. That's as close as I can come to explaining it.

I don't know how this will play out, or what my future holds. All I ask is that you stay with me, my readers. We will discover the answer together.

Before We Begin...

This blog is actually a continuation of my old one on travelblog.org. I started off with plans to travel, but seeing that I've lived in Phnom Penh for the last five months and haven't traveled at all, I figure the least I can do is set up a proper blog. Hopefully, one that's more user friendly and has better control over the visual aids.

Here is a link to my old one, if you'd like to know my back-story. It's in reverse chronological order: The adventures of a global drifter begin...

After a recent brush with my own mortality (which, as it turns out, wasn't actually all that dangerous, even though I was convinced that death was closing in all around me), I have decided that it would behoove me to leave a legacy.

Since I'm one of those odd American girls with no reservations about moving to developing countries for the heck of it, and since I haven't found a lot of other girls like me, I have come to the conclusion that the best thing I can do is leave a record of my experiences here.

Maybe I can inspire someone else to follow her dreams. Who knows?