I never ever write here and I should. My decision isn't made and this was supposed to help, or chronicle or something. Well, I've failed.
I'm still at this crossroads and I don't know what to do. So far winter hasn't been so bad, but it's only mid December and I had foot surgery a month ago and have been trapped inside. It's cold in my apartment. If I lived in a warmer apartment I would probably feel pretty differently about life in the winter. If I stay here I could maybe buy something. If I go I have roommates.
I still miss Kevin oh so much. There is so much every day that I want to tell him and lately he's been in my dreams frequently. I don't wake up sad anymore but more frustrated. I hate that he's not here, that I can only hear his voice in my sleep. I hate it more than anything.
I'm going to be better with this from now on.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Sunday, July 11, 2010
one will spread our ashes round the yard
I posted this on facebook last night after several drinks.
The day has finally come, the day when it all becomes real.
When Kevin's mom asked me in April where I thought his ashes should go my first through was Ely, Minnesota but she wanted him to come here to Chicago. Chicago, his home, the only place where he felt at home throughout his life, the place where he was happiest, the place where we planned a life. At first it seemed like an honor to be given such a task, the job of figuring out where his physical being would go, but then I just felt overwhelmed. We never talked about what would happen if he died. I spent our four years together trying to keep him alive. Death wasn't a real option. I mean, I guess, we all knew it realistically could happen with the way he lived his life, but it wasn't something we were planning for. So I chose Montrose Harbor. It was sorta the perfect place, a combination of my life with him and his life with his friends. He spent many days, ones he had off and ones he called in "sick" to, at the harbor fishing with friends, and Montrose Beach is where we used to take Lola, plus the lake was somewhere special for us (and most Chicagoians). It's one of the best parts of Chicago and we tried to take advantage of it.
As today approached I kind of dreaded it. I didn't know what I would say to Nancy, despite us talking on many occasions since April. I didn't want him not being here anymore to truly be a reality. In the past three months there were times when I could forget, because I went days at a time without talking to him when he was alive so this could feel the same. But now, when Nancy got here with his ashes in her passenger seat, there was no more pretending. The last remains of his physical being are in baggies and jars all over my apartment. He's in my cupboards, in my entertainment center, in the pot he painted in 2004 and signed "KMH" on the bottom that sits on my microwave (which has a "666" sticker on it thanks to Kevin). I held his ashes in my hand, felt the fragment of bones between my finger tips. I rubbed what was left of him into my skin and it all felt so surreal. I stood in my kitchen putting a little bits of the man I once planned to marry into plastic bags so his best friends could do something special with him. I told them "I put a little Kevin in your bag" or "don't forget your Kevin," like he's something we ever could.
We met at the harbor. It was slightly difficult to get everyone together but eventually we all found our way. I made a playlist of bands that Kevin liked and we played it while we all settled in. It was kind of awkward...I mean, how do you start this sort of thing? I don't have any experience with scattering ashes and I don't think anyone else did either. Nancy tried a couple of times to ask what people thought, but I don't think any of us were ready. When it just seemed right we all walked to the edge of the lake and each took a hand full of ashes and went to our own little place and said our goodbyes and that was it. What seemed like the hardest thing to do was done in minutes. We sat in silence, looking at the lake or the skyline. Just silent. As the time passed we started sharing more stories and comforting each other, this big group of people who lost this huge part of them all trying to put the pieces back together.
All of us are missing part of our heart now that he's gone and it was nice that we could share this little silent goodbye, despite that fact that it's only the beginning. James, Ian and Jove snuck into the clubhouse and scattered some there. James put some in the cracks of the bar at Stella's, which resulted in me obsessively trying to rub the ashes into the crack so he won't get swept away when they clean. That, in turn, left me rolling a small piece of bone between my fingers as I tried my hardest not to cry (that didn't work). But we all made it through. I'm lucky to live in this city where so many people loved him and had him in their lives for so long. I can share my stories and listen to theirs. We can share our pain and grief and tears and understand what the other person is going through. When the boys cry and say they lost their friend they understand when I say I lost my love because they saw it. They saw our whole relationship, the bad and the good, and I saw theirs and now all we're left with are memories and small momentos.
I can look at the pictures, the cards he gave/made me, the things he made, the things he fixed in this apartment, the dog we shared together and now the small pieces that are left of him. I have these physical pieces of him left with me. I don't know that I'll keep any of his ashes. Some will go to India with me next year, to fulfill his dream of being there, some will go to other places that were special to us. I don't know. I would give absolutely anything to not have his ashes, for him to be alive somewhere. I would trade so much to not have this pain anymore, for this to be easier. But I can't. This is where I am and this is what I have to work through. I miss him every second of every day. I miss the hope of things to come and for prospect of better days for him and I. I miss so much about him that I'll never have again and it breaks my heart.
Nate and I got into a mini argument today because I told him that I'm broken, that I'm missing a part of me that I'll never get back. He refused to hear it. He said I keep living and so I'm not broken. I just can't agree. Nothing is the same without Kevin here and I don't know that it ever will be. I just keep trying to figure out how to make this new reality work and hope that one days it hurts less. Until then I will hold onto my pictures and cards and memories and keep telling Lola that her poppa loves her so she won't forget him. I'll cry almost every day when I think about him. I'll wish he could see the good things I do and feel the joy that's out there and take comfort in the fact that I loved him and he loved me very much and for a little while we had everything we needed. We had our little life with our little family and it was something really special.
So now I have baggies and jars full of gray ashes and white bone fragments and difficult nights and sad days,happy memories and regrets. I have pain. I have joy, joy in the fact that I had seven years with this amazing and flawed man that touched everyone he knew and left so many people sad when he left us. I could never let him go when he was alive and I don't know how to do it now that he's not. I know I have to. I'm trying but it's hard. This has been, quite possibly, the most difficult three months of my life but I keep going. So here I am. This is me adjusting to this reality, and this was us saying our goodbyes.
Now, for today's addition. Nancy and I went to Wrigley Field and snuck Kev's ashes onto the field. We rubbed him into the grass, into the foul are dirt, in both the visitors and Cubs dugouts and in the stands. We tried to be sneaky about it but, you know, there's only so much you can do when you hands are covered in dark gray ash.
I don't know, this still sucks a lot. I wish I had a more profound way to finish this, but that's just it. It sucks. The whole process blows. I hate it. I hate that he's gone every day and second.
The day has finally come, the day when it all becomes real.
When Kevin's mom asked me in April where I thought his ashes should go my first through was Ely, Minnesota but she wanted him to come here to Chicago. Chicago, his home, the only place where he felt at home throughout his life, the place where he was happiest, the place where we planned a life. At first it seemed like an honor to be given such a task, the job of figuring out where his physical being would go, but then I just felt overwhelmed. We never talked about what would happen if he died. I spent our four years together trying to keep him alive. Death wasn't a real option. I mean, I guess, we all knew it realistically could happen with the way he lived his life, but it wasn't something we were planning for. So I chose Montrose Harbor. It was sorta the perfect place, a combination of my life with him and his life with his friends. He spent many days, ones he had off and ones he called in "sick" to, at the harbor fishing with friends, and Montrose Beach is where we used to take Lola, plus the lake was somewhere special for us (and most Chicagoians). It's one of the best parts of Chicago and we tried to take advantage of it.
As today approached I kind of dreaded it. I didn't know what I would say to Nancy, despite us talking on many occasions since April. I didn't want him not being here anymore to truly be a reality. In the past three months there were times when I could forget, because I went days at a time without talking to him when he was alive so this could feel the same. But now, when Nancy got here with his ashes in her passenger seat, there was no more pretending. The last remains of his physical being are in baggies and jars all over my apartment. He's in my cupboards, in my entertainment center, in the pot he painted in 2004 and signed "KMH" on the bottom that sits on my microwave (which has a "666" sticker on it thanks to Kevin). I held his ashes in my hand, felt the fragment of bones between my finger tips. I rubbed what was left of him into my skin and it all felt so surreal. I stood in my kitchen putting a little bits of the man I once planned to marry into plastic bags so his best friends could do something special with him. I told them "I put a little Kevin in your bag" or "don't forget your Kevin," like he's something we ever could.
We met at the harbor. It was slightly difficult to get everyone together but eventually we all found our way. I made a playlist of bands that Kevin liked and we played it while we all settled in. It was kind of awkward...I mean, how do you start this sort of thing? I don't have any experience with scattering ashes and I don't think anyone else did either. Nancy tried a couple of times to ask what people thought, but I don't think any of us were ready. When it just seemed right we all walked to the edge of the lake and each took a hand full of ashes and went to our own little place and said our goodbyes and that was it. What seemed like the hardest thing to do was done in minutes. We sat in silence, looking at the lake or the skyline. Just silent. As the time passed we started sharing more stories and comforting each other, this big group of people who lost this huge part of them all trying to put the pieces back together.
All of us are missing part of our heart now that he's gone and it was nice that we could share this little silent goodbye, despite that fact that it's only the beginning. James, Ian and Jove snuck into the clubhouse and scattered some there. James put some in the cracks of the bar at Stella's, which resulted in me obsessively trying to rub the ashes into the crack so he won't get swept away when they clean. That, in turn, left me rolling a small piece of bone between my fingers as I tried my hardest not to cry (that didn't work). But we all made it through. I'm lucky to live in this city where so many people loved him and had him in their lives for so long. I can share my stories and listen to theirs. We can share our pain and grief and tears and understand what the other person is going through. When the boys cry and say they lost their friend they understand when I say I lost my love because they saw it. They saw our whole relationship, the bad and the good, and I saw theirs and now all we're left with are memories and small momentos.
I can look at the pictures, the cards he gave/made me, the things he made, the things he fixed in this apartment, the dog we shared together and now the small pieces that are left of him. I have these physical pieces of him left with me. I don't know that I'll keep any of his ashes. Some will go to India with me next year, to fulfill his dream of being there, some will go to other places that were special to us. I don't know. I would give absolutely anything to not have his ashes, for him to be alive somewhere. I would trade so much to not have this pain anymore, for this to be easier. But I can't. This is where I am and this is what I have to work through. I miss him every second of every day. I miss the hope of things to come and for prospect of better days for him and I. I miss so much about him that I'll never have again and it breaks my heart.
Nate and I got into a mini argument today because I told him that I'm broken, that I'm missing a part of me that I'll never get back. He refused to hear it. He said I keep living and so I'm not broken. I just can't agree. Nothing is the same without Kevin here and I don't know that it ever will be. I just keep trying to figure out how to make this new reality work and hope that one days it hurts less. Until then I will hold onto my pictures and cards and memories and keep telling Lola that her poppa loves her so she won't forget him. I'll cry almost every day when I think about him. I'll wish he could see the good things I do and feel the joy that's out there and take comfort in the fact that I loved him and he loved me very much and for a little while we had everything we needed. We had our little life with our little family and it was something really special.
So now I have baggies and jars full of gray ashes and white bone fragments and difficult nights and sad days,happy memories and regrets. I have pain. I have joy, joy in the fact that I had seven years with this amazing and flawed man that touched everyone he knew and left so many people sad when he left us. I could never let him go when he was alive and I don't know how to do it now that he's not. I know I have to. I'm trying but it's hard. This has been, quite possibly, the most difficult three months of my life but I keep going. So here I am. This is me adjusting to this reality, and this was us saying our goodbyes.
at the lake after we each scattered our handful
Now, for today's addition. Nancy and I went to Wrigley Field and snuck Kev's ashes onto the field. We rubbed him into the grass, into the foul are dirt, in both the visitors and Cubs dugouts and in the stands. We tried to be sneaky about it but, you know, there's only so much you can do when you hands are covered in dark gray ash.
my hand, kevin's ashes, stella's bar
I don't know, this still sucks a lot. I wish I had a more profound way to finish this, but that's just it. It sucks. The whole process blows. I hate it. I hate that he's gone every day and second.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
sunday sunday sunday
It's Sunday again, it seems to be the hardest day. It's probably because I'm alone with my thoughts all day. It's ok, though. I'm seeing Linda and Jen today, which will be nice. In addition to them getting their massages we eat lunch. They forgot I was coming on Monday so we had to order pizza. They're like my Chicago family, on better than my real family...well my parents.
Last night I did nothing. I rented Zombieland and The Men Who Stare At Goats. I was fully expecting to hate the Men Who Stare at Goats, but I didn't. It got horrible reviews, well, not very positive ones. Maybe I have terrible taste in movies.
I feel like I use all of my real feelings in the emails I send to Kevin's email address, because they're all about him and that situation. By the time I get here, I'm plum out.
I'll be in Italy in two weeks. It's so strange because I think the trip will be awesome, and that Montenegro will be one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen, but I am still not excited about it. It's like it's physically impossible for me to get excited about it. I want to be, I really do, but I just can't. Stupid brain.
Last night I did nothing. I rented Zombieland and The Men Who Stare At Goats. I was fully expecting to hate the Men Who Stare at Goats, but I didn't. It got horrible reviews, well, not very positive ones. Maybe I have terrible taste in movies.
I feel like I use all of my real feelings in the emails I send to Kevin's email address, because they're all about him and that situation. By the time I get here, I'm plum out.
I'll be in Italy in two weeks. It's so strange because I think the trip will be awesome, and that Montenegro will be one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen, but I am still not excited about it. It's like it's physically impossible for me to get excited about it. I want to be, I really do, but I just can't. Stupid brain.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
i have made life
Plant life, that is. The seeds I planted last weekend are starting to pop through the dirt. If this weather doesn't kill them, I will have flowers that I grew from scratch. I've never done that. I've planted herbs, but never flowers.
It's sunny today but not so warm. It's one of those days where if we hadn't had those 80 degree days people would be sitting outside on patios drinking beers and pretending like it was time to do so. But not today, because we have felt the real patio weather.
My tattoo is starting to get itchy. I forget about this phase. It's not so hurty anymore so that's nice.
I called my mom today to wish her a happy mother's day, but she wasn't home. I talked to Nancy for quite a while. I admire her strength. I'm impressed by how well she seems to be doing. She, of course, isn't doing perfectly, but she's doing ok. She seemed to perk up at the idea of going to the Tigers game on Kevin's birthday. I think it will be nice too. I'm getting nervous about the ashes. I still have well over a month to decide exactly what we should do but...it's a big deal. I miss him so much this weekend.
Planning the trip to rome has been overwhelming to say the least. There is so much to do there. I don't even know where to begin. It's going to be pretty rad, though.
It's sunny today but not so warm. It's one of those days where if we hadn't had those 80 degree days people would be sitting outside on patios drinking beers and pretending like it was time to do so. But not today, because we have felt the real patio weather.
My tattoo is starting to get itchy. I forget about this phase. It's not so hurty anymore so that's nice.
I called my mom today to wish her a happy mother's day, but she wasn't home. I talked to Nancy for quite a while. I admire her strength. I'm impressed by how well she seems to be doing. She, of course, isn't doing perfectly, but she's doing ok. She seemed to perk up at the idea of going to the Tigers game on Kevin's birthday. I think it will be nice too. I'm getting nervous about the ashes. I still have well over a month to decide exactly what we should do but...it's a big deal. I miss him so much this weekend.
Planning the trip to rome has been overwhelming to say the least. There is so much to do there. I don't even know where to begin. It's going to be pretty rad, though.
Saturday, May 8, 2010
brrr
it's cold again. Why must Chicago be such a weather tease.
I miss Kevin today, have all day. I tried to take a nap but ended up just being sad. This is perfect napping weather. I got a new tattoo yesterday.
It will get easier, right?
I miss Kevin today, have all day. I tried to take a nap but ended up just being sad. This is perfect napping weather. I got a new tattoo yesterday.
It will get easier, right?
Monday, May 3, 2010
boo
tonight i'm sad. i'm not sad all the time, every second. sometimes i can think about kevin in a really real way and still be ok. but not tonight. tonight was a walking down the street with lola while sobbing night. a night where i wonder if this is maybe how things will be from here on out. meaghan said she hopes that i'm writing things down, because we're not always this raw, but i'd rather forget this part. i'd rather not remember crying while doing the dishes because the water's too hot, or that emptiness in my gut that just won't go away. or the images my brain comes up with. i'd rather just fast forward to when i have fewer and fewer of these moments. when this pain is a distant memory. when i can do something other than talk about, think about, explain this situation. when people don't feel like they have to treat me delicately or aren't comfortable talking about their stuff because of mine. i'd rather skip thinking about ashes, and memorials and memories and trying to get lola to respond to kevin's name...like the dog remembering him makes any difference.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
one month in
It's been one month since Kevin died. One month. One month of more tears that I've ever cried in my life. One month, 12 less pounds on my body. One month, hours of sleep missing. One month of trying to live my regular life, while I think about Kevin all the time. I have these moments of not thinking about it, when things seem ok. Out of nowhere...bam! Crying. Sad. Thinking about never talking to him again. Never seeing him again. Lola never jumping on him, breaking his glasses. I hate it. I hate that he's gone.
It really does get easier every day. I just wonder if it will ever just be easy.
It really does get easier every day. I just wonder if it will ever just be easy.
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
happy birthday to me
it's my birthday today. normally i get really excited about my birthday weeks in advance. i know exactly what i'll do, who i'll invite, what we'll do, multiple days-worth of birthday activities. this year, not so much. i wasn't even looking forward to it. i told several people that i wish it could just be next month when i'm more prepared for it.
i had a really nice weekend away from chicago, my apartment, my life. pk made sure that i ate a lot of really delicious food and laughed as often as possible, which i really appreciate. i would also appreciate if he didn't treat me like such a bro and go on and on about his girl problems, but that's really here nor there. here nor there, huh....not a phrase i use that often.
i realize that i'm not using capital letter in this. it's my motherfucking birthday and i'm totally allowed.
i was completely stuck in the burbank airport for about four hours, fearing that i might never make it home. daniel asked how long i would be in sfo so he could visit. when i told kristine she said that he's confusing and that pretty much sums it up. when i finally did land in chicago i started crying immediately, like as soon as the wheels hit the tarmac...tears.
i wish that wouldn't happen. i have so many really great memories here and there's no reason i should associate this whole city with kevin but i do. a lot of the things i do here, people i know here, are because of him. biking is one of my favorite things to do on earth and i would have never done that were it not for him. lola is my love and i wouldn't have her if it weren't for him. this apartment is home, a home we found together (although i actually found it and brought him here to took at it, we signed the lease together and made it home together).
i haven't cried today, well, almost when my mom called because my parents are being such dicks. they haven't even checked on me.
man, by the time i finished this....my birthday was over 3 minutes ago. wah-wah-wah
i had a really nice weekend away from chicago, my apartment, my life. pk made sure that i ate a lot of really delicious food and laughed as often as possible, which i really appreciate. i would also appreciate if he didn't treat me like such a bro and go on and on about his girl problems, but that's really here nor there. here nor there, huh....not a phrase i use that often.
i realize that i'm not using capital letter in this. it's my motherfucking birthday and i'm totally allowed.
i was completely stuck in the burbank airport for about four hours, fearing that i might never make it home. daniel asked how long i would be in sfo so he could visit. when i told kristine she said that he's confusing and that pretty much sums it up. when i finally did land in chicago i started crying immediately, like as soon as the wheels hit the tarmac...tears.
i wish that wouldn't happen. i have so many really great memories here and there's no reason i should associate this whole city with kevin but i do. a lot of the things i do here, people i know here, are because of him. biking is one of my favorite things to do on earth and i would have never done that were it not for him. lola is my love and i wouldn't have her if it weren't for him. this apartment is home, a home we found together (although i actually found it and brought him here to took at it, we signed the lease together and made it home together).
i haven't cried today, well, almost when my mom called because my parents are being such dicks. they haven't even checked on me.
man, by the time i finished this....my birthday was over 3 minutes ago. wah-wah-wah
Thursday, April 22, 2010
biting my tongue
i have to remind myself to just take the high road. don't say anything that will make things worse for someone who is already unable to deal with the truth anyway. i will be the bigger person. i will bite my tongue. oh, but i have an opinion. and i have facts on my side.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
where is my mind
Where I'm at today is actually a nicer place than I was yesterday. I never really know from one minute to the next whether I'm going to start crying or be ok or completely numb. Today, however, has been a good day and I'm not going to question it. I'm just going to roll with this grieving process and let it take me where it wishes.
I woke up this morning really angry at the whole judicial system and the way that it treats felony controlled substance offenses when it's a proven addictive substance that was possessed. I mean, I know you can't force someone to want to clean up and you can't force someone to want to face their problems, but some good has to come out of some sort of treatment, right? Like even if the person doesn't want to be go something has to somehow sink in there. They have to hear some words the therapist says, or notice something about what they talk about in there. right?
It was nice to wake up angry instead of sad, but sort of amazing how angry I was. There was no peaceful, hello world, trying to adjust to being awake moment at all. It was just instant anger. I don't know what I was dreaming about but maybe it carried over into awake world.
I've been doing all this review of my life and how it will be different now. My day to day isn't all that different. Sure, there are all these moments where I would normally text Kevin something stupid or look for him online, or get some stupid message from him or get annoyed by his facebook posts and think about how productive he could be at a job if he would work as hard at it as he did with facebook. But it's more like a large chunk of my history is now just gone. There were the Kevin years and now there are the non-Kevin years. I mean, even past couple of years were Kevin years. He was always on my mind, I was always worrying about him, fielding ridiculous phone calls from him, fighting with him about this or that. If I had a problem, he was who I talked to. I never really lost that connection, that hope that he could get his shit together. That there would be a happy ending in there somewhere.
He hated it when I cried, threatened whomever was the cause (even if I told him not to say anything). I guess he'd want to beat himself up right about now for all this sadness he caused.
He was such an imperfect person. I can't pretend like he was something he wasn't just because he's not here anymore. I can't pretend that he wasn't an expert liar, would be incredibly lazy, chose booze/heroin/whatever over a lot of better things in his life. He had a way to make people love him regardless of those imperrfections, smart people who would normally have nothing to do with any of that. He dicked over a lot of people, and yet they still thought he was great. How does someone have the ability to do that? If I did half the shit he did, I'd have a fraction of the friends he had. Amazing.
He was incredibly talented at almost everything he did. I used to call him the dumbest smart person I ever knew. He could just pick something up like he was doing it for his whole life. He had an insatiable appetite for music, movies, culture, whatever...He just knew about stuff and had done stuff. He was incredibly gifted but if there was a wrong choice, he'd make it just because he could and it seemed fun.
He also had a knack for finding people who could bring out the worst in him. He knew better, but he did it anyway. He never learned what the word enough meant. There was never enough. He was shocked when I said enough, despite me telling him it was coming. That I had all that I could take. Shocked. And the years following, despite knowing that we were going different directions, that we wanted different things, he still called and texted and emailed about how things could be. How he wanted them to be with us. Never gave up.
It's weird trying to figure out what happens now. All of those things I wished for will never be now. All of those things I'd want to tell him will have to go somewhere else. All of that history stays with me and only me now. I no longer share all those memories with someone. They're now mine alone. It's a weird place to be in, a sad place, but a place I have to get used to because that's where I am now.
I woke up this morning really angry at the whole judicial system and the way that it treats felony controlled substance offenses when it's a proven addictive substance that was possessed. I mean, I know you can't force someone to want to clean up and you can't force someone to want to face their problems, but some good has to come out of some sort of treatment, right? Like even if the person doesn't want to be go something has to somehow sink in there. They have to hear some words the therapist says, or notice something about what they talk about in there. right?
It was nice to wake up angry instead of sad, but sort of amazing how angry I was. There was no peaceful, hello world, trying to adjust to being awake moment at all. It was just instant anger. I don't know what I was dreaming about but maybe it carried over into awake world.
I've been doing all this review of my life and how it will be different now. My day to day isn't all that different. Sure, there are all these moments where I would normally text Kevin something stupid or look for him online, or get some stupid message from him or get annoyed by his facebook posts and think about how productive he could be at a job if he would work as hard at it as he did with facebook. But it's more like a large chunk of my history is now just gone. There were the Kevin years and now there are the non-Kevin years. I mean, even past couple of years were Kevin years. He was always on my mind, I was always worrying about him, fielding ridiculous phone calls from him, fighting with him about this or that. If I had a problem, he was who I talked to. I never really lost that connection, that hope that he could get his shit together. That there would be a happy ending in there somewhere.
He hated it when I cried, threatened whomever was the cause (even if I told him not to say anything). I guess he'd want to beat himself up right about now for all this sadness he caused.
He was such an imperfect person. I can't pretend like he was something he wasn't just because he's not here anymore. I can't pretend that he wasn't an expert liar, would be incredibly lazy, chose booze/heroin/whatever over a lot of better things in his life. He had a way to make people love him regardless of those imperrfections, smart people who would normally have nothing to do with any of that. He dicked over a lot of people, and yet they still thought he was great. How does someone have the ability to do that? If I did half the shit he did, I'd have a fraction of the friends he had. Amazing.
He was incredibly talented at almost everything he did. I used to call him the dumbest smart person I ever knew. He could just pick something up like he was doing it for his whole life. He had an insatiable appetite for music, movies, culture, whatever...He just knew about stuff and had done stuff. He was incredibly gifted but if there was a wrong choice, he'd make it just because he could and it seemed fun.
He also had a knack for finding people who could bring out the worst in him. He knew better, but he did it anyway. He never learned what the word enough meant. There was never enough. He was shocked when I said enough, despite me telling him it was coming. That I had all that I could take. Shocked. And the years following, despite knowing that we were going different directions, that we wanted different things, he still called and texted and emailed about how things could be. How he wanted them to be with us. Never gave up.
It's weird trying to figure out what happens now. All of those things I wished for will never be now. All of those things I'd want to tell him will have to go somewhere else. All of that history stays with me and only me now. I no longer share all those memories with someone. They're now mine alone. It's a weird place to be in, a sad place, but a place I have to get used to because that's where I am now.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
porch sitting
i've been sitting on my porch listening to music. i put on a mix cd that kevin made me years ago for valentine's day. i cried like a fucking baby. i was actually glad that it was over and califone came on. so i guess the moral of this blog entry is that lovey mixes that your dead ex boyfriend makes are bad, while chilled out pretty songs by califone are good.
i found this article in interview magazine, which i hate. it was an interview that morrissey did with linder sterling. i kind of adore it. he sent it to her in a letter with his questions for the interview. it reads "i shall love you till that final stretch of sand that the sea never quite reaches is finally swathed by crashing waves. or, perhaps longer...it there's time."
sigh.
i'm sad at night. every night.
i found this article in interview magazine, which i hate. it was an interview that morrissey did with linder sterling. i kind of adore it. he sent it to her in a letter with his questions for the interview. it reads "i shall love you till that final stretch of sand that the sea never quite reaches is finally swathed by crashing waves. or, perhaps longer...it there's time."
sigh.
i'm sad at night. every night.
Sunday, April 11, 2010
i'm wide awake
and having a rough morning. I'm not feeling well, stuffy with a little bit of a cough, and I miss Kevin this morning. I was doing ok and then suddenly I was not. I guess this is how it will be from now on. I'll be ok and then I won't be, but am I really ever ok? I just don't think about it and then I do.
I can't always be this difficult. It just can't.
I can't always be this difficult. It just can't.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
slowly. trying
It's Saturday. One week has passes since I found out about Kevin and it's been quite a tough one.
Andrea, Bob and I drove up to Michigan on Monday. The zombie drive. There have been a lot of zombie moments. In fact, most moments have been zombie ones. Thank you brain for this coping mechanism. I enjoy it more than the hysterical crying that happens when the zombie wears off.
The service....There was a visitation first. People I had heard about, people I had not. Everyone sad and numb and blank. People I had never heard of telling me that they knew so much about me, how much he loved me. How I was the love of his life. How much I did for him. I never know quite what to say to that. I mean, what do you? I mostly thanked them, told them I had heard about them, that he was mine too.
I tried to hold it together. I did such a good job until I signed the guest book. "Heidi Goldman and Lola Jean Goldman Hagen." I lost it. I had to leave the building. I went out to the car to see Lola (who was in the car. It was a cool day, she did fine. people walked her, said hi to her when they needed a break) and I took her to the front so she could see some of his friends and they could see her.
I met Kathy. My strange jealousy of her, not at this moment but in general. My feelings of guilt because of Kevin's phone calls to me from her house telling me he wished things could be the way they used to be, that he still loved me and always would. She and her sister were kind to me. Kathy was a mess, having a hard time keeping it together. I tried to comfort her but there's only so much I could do.
I was an ass hole and felt left out of things. There weren't really any pictures of us, like I was erased. It was selfish and I feel bad for having felt it. K's mom emailed today and in our exchanges she said that I was the love of his life, so I guess she acknowledges my importance to him, just not that day. Which is totally ok. I mean...she lost her only son. I was just being an ass.
Kevin's mom held it together pretty well. I was quite impressed. I mean, of course it was difficult and she had a hard time not crying, but she greeted everyone. She held her own. I'm impressed by her. She's been through so much. She has a priest speak, a man who never met him. A mean whom Kevin would have never wanted to speak at his funeral. Ever. At some point he said that Kevin didn't have any angry bone in his body and I actually laughed a little. Everyone heard me, and I felt a little bad but it was just funny. Kathy said later the he was fueled by anger and hate. That pain in the ass.
Glen, Drew and this guy Dave all spoke and then I looked around. I wanted Ian to speak, someone from Chicago but no one was stepping up so I did. I didn't know how to introduce myself. I didn't know what I was going to say, nor do I remember what I said, but I know that I fought back tears the whole time. That when I ran out of things to say I ran to my chair and shook and hyperventilated and when it was over found Ian and just cried, for a long time.
Kathy and her sister Theresa let me look through his things and I took his messenger bag, his "kurt cobain" sweater, the fleecy shirt he used to wear to bed and some t-shirts. I gave one to bob and one to ian. He would have wanted it. There was a bit of a struggle for the bag and I feel like I was a little selfish but I wanted it. I used it today. I had to fix a couple of the buckles and will probably get a hold of Chrome to replace something.
Ian asked Kathy who she was and when she said she was Kathy he looked at her really seriously and said "and who were you to Kevin" and when she said "his girlfriend" he said "oh, the current one." And then I had another ass hole moment where I was super amused that he said it. God, I suck.
The week has been a blur, a terrible blur. A pill filled blur, even. Today I've been so-so. Cried twice. Got an email from kevin's mom. She wants to come to Chicago to spread his ashes here. i told her we should also spread some in Ely. She told me that I was the love of his life and she wonders what would have happened had we stayed together. I'm repeating myself. I haven't even taken any pills.
Last night at Japandroids a girl passed out face first and wasn't moving. I had flashed of what it must have been like for kevin and then had a panic attack and started crying and then had to leave. I bought a better chain for his ring.
This will get easier, right?
Andrea, Bob and I drove up to Michigan on Monday. The zombie drive. There have been a lot of zombie moments. In fact, most moments have been zombie ones. Thank you brain for this coping mechanism. I enjoy it more than the hysterical crying that happens when the zombie wears off.
The service....There was a visitation first. People I had heard about, people I had not. Everyone sad and numb and blank. People I had never heard of telling me that they knew so much about me, how much he loved me. How I was the love of his life. How much I did for him. I never know quite what to say to that. I mean, what do you? I mostly thanked them, told them I had heard about them, that he was mine too.
I tried to hold it together. I did such a good job until I signed the guest book. "Heidi Goldman and Lola Jean Goldman Hagen." I lost it. I had to leave the building. I went out to the car to see Lola (who was in the car. It was a cool day, she did fine. people walked her, said hi to her when they needed a break) and I took her to the front so she could see some of his friends and they could see her.
I met Kathy. My strange jealousy of her, not at this moment but in general. My feelings of guilt because of Kevin's phone calls to me from her house telling me he wished things could be the way they used to be, that he still loved me and always would. She and her sister were kind to me. Kathy was a mess, having a hard time keeping it together. I tried to comfort her but there's only so much I could do.
I was an ass hole and felt left out of things. There weren't really any pictures of us, like I was erased. It was selfish and I feel bad for having felt it. K's mom emailed today and in our exchanges she said that I was the love of his life, so I guess she acknowledges my importance to him, just not that day. Which is totally ok. I mean...she lost her only son. I was just being an ass.
Kevin's mom held it together pretty well. I was quite impressed. I mean, of course it was difficult and she had a hard time not crying, but she greeted everyone. She held her own. I'm impressed by her. She's been through so much. She has a priest speak, a man who never met him. A mean whom Kevin would have never wanted to speak at his funeral. Ever. At some point he said that Kevin didn't have any angry bone in his body and I actually laughed a little. Everyone heard me, and I felt a little bad but it was just funny. Kathy said later the he was fueled by anger and hate. That pain in the ass.
Glen, Drew and this guy Dave all spoke and then I looked around. I wanted Ian to speak, someone from Chicago but no one was stepping up so I did. I didn't know how to introduce myself. I didn't know what I was going to say, nor do I remember what I said, but I know that I fought back tears the whole time. That when I ran out of things to say I ran to my chair and shook and hyperventilated and when it was over found Ian and just cried, for a long time.
Kathy and her sister Theresa let me look through his things and I took his messenger bag, his "kurt cobain" sweater, the fleecy shirt he used to wear to bed and some t-shirts. I gave one to bob and one to ian. He would have wanted it. There was a bit of a struggle for the bag and I feel like I was a little selfish but I wanted it. I used it today. I had to fix a couple of the buckles and will probably get a hold of Chrome to replace something.
Ian asked Kathy who she was and when she said she was Kathy he looked at her really seriously and said "and who were you to Kevin" and when she said "his girlfriend" he said "oh, the current one." And then I had another ass hole moment where I was super amused that he said it. God, I suck.
The week has been a blur, a terrible blur. A pill filled blur, even. Today I've been so-so. Cried twice. Got an email from kevin's mom. She wants to come to Chicago to spread his ashes here. i told her we should also spread some in Ely. She told me that I was the love of his life and she wonders what would have happened had we stayed together. I'm repeating myself. I haven't even taken any pills.
Last night at Japandroids a girl passed out face first and wasn't moving. I had flashed of what it must have been like for kevin and then had a panic attack and started crying and then had to leave. I bought a better chain for his ring.
This will get easier, right?
Monday, April 5, 2010
wide awake yet sleeping
I've been sleepwalking through every second that's passes since Saturday morning. My eyes are open, well mostly open, they're a little puffy, but my brain is completely shut off. I can't remember anything. I can't get names of people I've know for years right. I can't think of anything at all because it all leads back to a Kevin memory. Every time my heart hurts, I grab my chest but then think of Kevin grabbing his, his heart no longer beating. The pain down his arms, the tightness in his chest. Gripping it. Fall off his chair. If a heart attack he did actually have.
I talked to Mike, "trees", today and he said he's mad. He wants to know who this Mark guy is that he was staying with. Who his last phone call was to. What they ate for breakfast. What he did with his tax return. He said he's going to get the police report, that the stories don't add up. I don't know if it matters now.
My brain is so scattered. I'll be ok one minute and so not ok the next.
Kevin's mom called me this morning and it came up on my phone as Kevin. I sat there for a while and watching it ring. "Kevin Hagen" while his picture flashed on my phone's screen and my heart dropped into my stomach. She wanted to know what baseball team he liked. That she couldn't remember and knew that I would know.
Of course I know, I know him in a real way.
I still can't believe this. I feel like I'll never be ok again, I'll never be whole again.
I always hoped that he would get it together and we could maybe, just maybe...but...
I talked to Mike, "trees", today and he said he's mad. He wants to know who this Mark guy is that he was staying with. Who his last phone call was to. What they ate for breakfast. What he did with his tax return. He said he's going to get the police report, that the stories don't add up. I don't know if it matters now.
My brain is so scattered. I'll be ok one minute and so not ok the next.
Kevin's mom called me this morning and it came up on my phone as Kevin. I sat there for a while and watching it ring. "Kevin Hagen" while his picture flashed on my phone's screen and my heart dropped into my stomach. She wanted to know what baseball team he liked. That she couldn't remember and knew that I would know.
Of course I know, I know him in a real way.
I still can't believe this. I feel like I'll never be ok again, I'll never be whole again.
I always hoped that he would get it together and we could maybe, just maybe...but...
Sunday, April 4, 2010
everyone' writing out facebook memorials on his page. i couldn't do it yesterday. i did today. it said this:
"facebook is kind of the perfect place for us to say our goodbyes to kevin, as he was all over it. kevin, you taught me how to keep score at baseball games, you cleaned our house when i had the ladies over, you trained our dog to the best dog ever, you sent me flowers for no reason at all, grew me tomatoes even though you hated them, made fun of the baseball team i love, laughed when i bobbed my head to hip hop, danced like a fool in public, gave me my bike and built it all of it's parts in an effort to woo me, supported me when no one else did, drove me crazy, put too much salt on the popcorn, farted in bed, thought that i liked the shower water too hot and my food too spicey. you loved me more than anyone ever has and maybe ever will. the good times were the best and the bad times were the worst, but through them all we always loved each other. i'm broken. i miss you. forever."
"facebook is kind of the perfect place for us to say our goodbyes to kevin, as he was all over it. kevin, you taught me how to keep score at baseball games, you cleaned our house when i had the ladies over, you trained our dog to the best dog ever, you sent me flowers for no reason at all, grew me tomatoes even though you hated them, made fun of the baseball team i love, laughed when i bobbed my head to hip hop, danced like a fool in public, gave me my bike and built it all of it's parts in an effort to woo me, supported me when no one else did, drove me crazy, put too much salt on the popcorn, farted in bed, thought that i liked the shower water too hot and my food too spicey. you loved me more than anyone ever has and maybe ever will. the good times were the best and the bad times were the worst, but through them all we always loved each other. i'm broken. i miss you. forever."
it was the best of times, it was the worst of times
Dear Kevin,
Friday afternoon when I changed my bike tire all by myself the first thing I wanted to do was tell you that I did it, because I thought you would be proud of me. You always used to get frustrated with me when I made you do it because it's so easy and I should have learned. But I never needed to, I always had you to help.
Yesterday morning I awoke to the news that the previous night, around 6pm, you were found dead in the basement of your friend's house. I then spent the entire day either crying hysterically or completely numb. I'm not sure what's better because they both seem pretty shitty.
This isn't something that should surprised me, you had your problems and you never seemed to get a hold on them but it looks like they finally got you. You knew you wouldn't live until you were old, used to tell me all the time, but I tried to pretend like you didn't mean it.
I keep trying to imagine a life where I can't text you stupid things that Lola does, or tell you something about baseball, or ask you a question, or hear your laugh or tell you that you crazy lady. I am trying to wrap my head around the fact that I'll never receive a text from you saying that you os'd your popcorn, or that the cubs suck, or that a certain band is awesome and I should check them out. I'll never hear you tell me to give Lola a big kiss from poppa ever again, and you'll never be able to give her a big kiss again.
And it all breaks my heart, but it more than breaks my heart. It leaves a hole where you lived in heart, not where memories of you/us lived but where you lived and stayed and never left. Those memories take up a large part, but you took up the largest.
I threw you a "wake" at Stella's last night and it was amazing. So many people came out to, people that I couldn't invite because I didn't know and people that I did and everyone just hugged each other. Heather even hugged me, which I wasn't so into but you would have thought was funny. Nickey and I even had some moments and I feel like maybe we'll have some more. You would have liked that so much. Sue and Rozi showed up, all of the bike people. Some got pretty rowdy (Winkelman, Jove, Johnny were the most drunk of the bunch) but some were very somber. James was inconsolable and Nate wasn't too much better. At some point I ran out of things I could say to them.
Everyone kept telling me they were sorry for MY loss, which I wish they hadn't. It was our loss. Everyone in that bar lost you, even Stella who was pretty upset. She said 'so young. i keep asking about him. Where Kevin? Where Bobby" in her adorable Polish accent.
People kept telling me how much you loved me, that you loved me more than anything in world, that you adored me, and I know they were trying to help but I already knew all of that. And the truth of the matter is I loved you like that too. People thanked for for everything I did for you, and told me how appreciative they were, that when you started dating me they thought that 'this is it. She's going to save him.' But I couldn't save you. I tried to fucking hard to save you for so long, but you didn't want to be saved. You wanted to live your life the way you wanted to live it and you wanted me to be ok with that and let you. But I couldn't let you because I couldn't imagine this very moment when I'm sitting alone in my living sobbing because you don't exist anymore. More than one person said that when we broke up they thought that that was it, that it was all going to go downhill. I was your stability, and sadly it looks like they were right. I never wanted that. I just couldn't fight with the demons anymore, they were winning and it was killing me.
Brent told me that your spirit still exists, that you had such a great spirit that there's no way it's gone. I told him that it wasn't good enough. That I don't want your spirit. Your spirit will never tell me that my thighs are getting fat just to be an ass. Your spirit will never tell me that the cubs suck and when I tell you some random baseball fact or about yelling at someone on bike bike "that's my girl." I'm not your spirit's girl. Lola isn't your spirit's dog. fuck that.
I told Lynn that I don't know how to exist in a world where you don't. That I don't know how to wake up every day and know that you aren't there. For a second this morning, just like less than a second this morning, I didn't think about it. But then I tried to open my eyes, which are basically puffed shut, and it hit me all over again and probably will all day, all week, all year, all life.
I wish I could have saved you.
I wish you could have saved yourself.
I will always love you, you bastard.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
hello from korea, eerr....america
I started this in Korea, but then they called me and told me that I had to leave (early) so...
I've been sitting in this hotel, Hotel June, almost all day. The airline gave it to me for free. I was going to take a city tour but I missed the bus. The room has heated floors, a jacuzzi tub and a computer in the room. It was nice to get a little rest before the final leg of my trip home.
I've been traveling for almost 20 hours and have about 16 hours left. My flight out of Chiang Mai was kind of interesting because they put me and another guy in the international terminal, even though we were traveling domestic, because we were continuing onto other countries. When it came time to board I think we both thought we were either in the wrong place or that our flight was going to be empty. Neither of those things were true.
I flew Bangkok Airways and they weren't so bad. I made sure to get aisle seats the whole way back so I can get out when I need to. I was alone in my row so I sat by the window, though.
We were on a big plane but still got to walk down stairs onto the tarmac and wait for the rest of the, very slow, passengers. It was probably about ten degrees hotter in Bangkok than Chiang Mai and way more humid. I did not regret my decision to stay in Chiang Mai the whole time.
The Bangkok airport is not set up for proper waiting, at least not the international terminal. The initial waiting area is set up in a long, narrow chair lined hallway. The chairs are uncomfortable, there are no bathrooms as it's also elevated above the actual waiting area that they let you in a half hour before boarding. Gee, thanks. I did meet a couple of ministers who were traveling around southeast asia who were quite nice. They were a married couple and the woman and I watched the saddest nature show while waiting where a baby monkey died and it's mom refused to let it. She held her dead baby and sat vigil with it for days and then finally left it and another monkey found it and tried to wake it up. Oh, nature, you're so sad sometimes.
The flight itself from Bangkok to Seoul wasn't too bad, but I also fell asleep before we even took off. I was awoken by some of the worst turbulence I've ever experienced and then some woman in the row in front of me vomiting repeatedly into her barf bag in the loudest manner possible. I usually do very well with turbulence but the sound of this woman puking made me want to puke. Barf-o-rama came to mind.
I couldn't find the Asiana desk in the arrivals hall at Incheon and missed my city tour bus. That's how I ended up in the heated floor, jacuzzi floor, buttons in Korean that controlled everything hotel room. I walked around a little but I ate at the hotel and took a nap and a bath. Paul told me that I should have called, but he had said he was working and my phone battery was dead anyway.
I'm back in the states now and have to start working. I almost completely avoided jet lag. Tuesday night I couldn't sleep until 4am and got up at 7am. Last night I took a sleeping pill and was asleep by midnight and up at 8. it's all good.
I've been sitting in this hotel, Hotel June, almost all day. The airline gave it to me for free. I was going to take a city tour but I missed the bus. The room has heated floors, a jacuzzi tub and a computer in the room. It was nice to get a little rest before the final leg of my trip home.
I've been traveling for almost 20 hours and have about 16 hours left. My flight out of Chiang Mai was kind of interesting because they put me and another guy in the international terminal, even though we were traveling domestic, because we were continuing onto other countries. When it came time to board I think we both thought we were either in the wrong place or that our flight was going to be empty. Neither of those things were true.
I flew Bangkok Airways and they weren't so bad. I made sure to get aisle seats the whole way back so I can get out when I need to. I was alone in my row so I sat by the window, though.
We were on a big plane but still got to walk down stairs onto the tarmac and wait for the rest of the, very slow, passengers. It was probably about ten degrees hotter in Bangkok than Chiang Mai and way more humid. I did not regret my decision to stay in Chiang Mai the whole time.
The Bangkok airport is not set up for proper waiting, at least not the international terminal. The initial waiting area is set up in a long, narrow chair lined hallway. The chairs are uncomfortable, there are no bathrooms as it's also elevated above the actual waiting area that they let you in a half hour before boarding. Gee, thanks. I did meet a couple of ministers who were traveling around southeast asia who were quite nice. They were a married couple and the woman and I watched the saddest nature show while waiting where a baby monkey died and it's mom refused to let it. She held her dead baby and sat vigil with it for days and then finally left it and another monkey found it and tried to wake it up. Oh, nature, you're so sad sometimes.
The flight itself from Bangkok to Seoul wasn't too bad, but I also fell asleep before we even took off. I was awoken by some of the worst turbulence I've ever experienced and then some woman in the row in front of me vomiting repeatedly into her barf bag in the loudest manner possible. I usually do very well with turbulence but the sound of this woman puking made me want to puke. Barf-o-rama came to mind.
I couldn't find the Asiana desk in the arrivals hall at Incheon and missed my city tour bus. That's how I ended up in the heated floor, jacuzzi floor, buttons in Korean that controlled everything hotel room. I walked around a little but I ate at the hotel and took a nap and a bath. Paul told me that I should have called, but he had said he was working and my phone battery was dead anyway.
I'm back in the states now and have to start working. I almost completely avoided jet lag. Tuesday night I couldn't sleep until 4am and got up at 7am. Last night I took a sleeping pill and was asleep by midnight and up at 8. it's all good.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
ok. alright. sheesh
Yesterday Melissa, Warner, Sven and I did a cooking class at Thai Kitchen Cookery Centre, which was pretty stinkin' awesome. Everyone else was worn down and hung over from the previous night's karaoke/dancing at Reggae Bar, but since I skipped out on the late night portion I was doing alright. We got to go to a market located near Tha Pae gate that I didn't know existed to look for ingredients for the day's dishes.
We got to cook in a covered patio area with woks lining the walls. We each had a choice of five sets of three dishes, we we all made five things. I chose pad Thai, panang curry paste and the actual dish itself, coconut soup with chicken (basically tom ka), cashews and chicken, papaya salad and mango sticky rice. All of the dishes were pretty easy to make and we each got a cookbook containing all the receipes from the day, including the ones we didn't make. I'm pretty stoked about trying them at home.
A bunch of us went to dinner last night at this india restaurant near the night bazaar called Le Spice. It was pretty delicious and reasonably priced so that was good.
I was on a hunt for prayer beads for Michael. It's all he asked for, but didn't ask until yesterday morning, and I couldn't find any for the life of me. We went to three night markets and found nothing. We found a ton of pants, shirts with weird sayings, overpriced bracelets, weird nicknacks, etc, but no beads. Of course the one person who it's absolutely required for me to get something good for, I can't find what he asked for. He's doing me this giant favor and I'm super grateful, the least I can do is get him some stinkin' beads.
Melissa and I left Warner and Sven to go to rooftop bar and we went to Zoe. They have super cheap mojitos, which would have been nice to realize a little earlier. I might have drank one too many. There was a dj and balloons everywhere and little village kids trying to sell us flower lays when they should have been sleeping. We watched fire throwers outside of Reggea bar and sat on couches at some tucked away bar nook.
On our walk home we passed a Wat that had some sort of disco ball near one of the temple buildings because there was light being refracted all around it. That wasn't the important part of this Wat, though, I had a display case and what looked like a little store in it. Being 2am it was obviously closed, but I saw prayer beads in there. We were asked to leave by some dogs and walked the rest of the way home.
While on the couches last night I noticed that my right shoulder was starting to hurt a little bit. It's not that out of the ordinary for me to get weird little pains so I thought nothing of it. Well, this morning I got up for my massage at school as was unable to lift my arm at all. I can maybe get 10 degrees should flexion and maybe 20 degrees abduction. Duan couldn't even help me as every time she tried to move my arm I wanted to scream. My hand is occasionally getting numb and the whole arm feels heavy. This is exactly how I want to feel during my 30+ hour trip home that starts tonight. Weee...
It's so hot outside and I can't put my hair up. I have to sit in a chair and lean all the way forward so I can use my right arm. Good thing I'm left handed.
I went back to disco Wat this afternoon and had to wake a monk up so I could buy the beads, but mission accomplished.
I should probably pack.
We got to cook in a covered patio area with woks lining the walls. We each had a choice of five sets of three dishes, we we all made five things. I chose pad Thai, panang curry paste and the actual dish itself, coconut soup with chicken (basically tom ka), cashews and chicken, papaya salad and mango sticky rice. All of the dishes were pretty easy to make and we each got a cookbook containing all the receipes from the day, including the ones we didn't make. I'm pretty stoked about trying them at home.
A bunch of us went to dinner last night at this india restaurant near the night bazaar called Le Spice. It was pretty delicious and reasonably priced so that was good.
I was on a hunt for prayer beads for Michael. It's all he asked for, but didn't ask until yesterday morning, and I couldn't find any for the life of me. We went to three night markets and found nothing. We found a ton of pants, shirts with weird sayings, overpriced bracelets, weird nicknacks, etc, but no beads. Of course the one person who it's absolutely required for me to get something good for, I can't find what he asked for. He's doing me this giant favor and I'm super grateful, the least I can do is get him some stinkin' beads.
Melissa and I left Warner and Sven to go to rooftop bar and we went to Zoe. They have super cheap mojitos, which would have been nice to realize a little earlier. I might have drank one too many. There was a dj and balloons everywhere and little village kids trying to sell us flower lays when they should have been sleeping. We watched fire throwers outside of Reggea bar and sat on couches at some tucked away bar nook.
On our walk home we passed a Wat that had some sort of disco ball near one of the temple buildings because there was light being refracted all around it. That wasn't the important part of this Wat, though, I had a display case and what looked like a little store in it. Being 2am it was obviously closed, but I saw prayer beads in there. We were asked to leave by some dogs and walked the rest of the way home.
While on the couches last night I noticed that my right shoulder was starting to hurt a little bit. It's not that out of the ordinary for me to get weird little pains so I thought nothing of it. Well, this morning I got up for my massage at school as was unable to lift my arm at all. I can maybe get 10 degrees should flexion and maybe 20 degrees abduction. Duan couldn't even help me as every time she tried to move my arm I wanted to scream. My hand is occasionally getting numb and the whole arm feels heavy. This is exactly how I want to feel during my 30+ hour trip home that starts tonight. Weee...
It's so hot outside and I can't put my hair up. I have to sit in a chair and lean all the way forward so I can use my right arm. Good thing I'm left handed.
I went back to disco Wat this afternoon and had to wake a monk up so I could buy the beads, but mission accomplished.
I should probably pack.
Friday, March 12, 2010
and...done
I am officially done with my three week course at TMC. Today was a very light day, we learned how to make and massage with an herbal ball. This is not a technique I will probably ever use, I found it incredibly boring the rub Melissa with the ball, but what it did was prove that I probably can do this Thai massage thing. The treatment involves using the ball from 5-10 minutes and then doing massage on the area that you just warmed with it. In that time you sorta improvise using the techniques we learned in the previous levels. I think I did a pretty good job which boosts my confidence just a little that I'll be able to put together a 50 minute massage using what I know. Yay!
I had to call Thai Kitchen Cookery Centre today to confirm my reservation for tomorrow because they never wrote back answering any of my questions and I wasn't even sure if they had received my request. It's a good thing I did because she seemed to have no idea what I was talking about and it took about ten minutes to try to explain to her what I wanted, where everyone needed to be picked up from and how many of us there are.
I also had to put more minutes on my phone, which involved me getting a receipt from 7-11 with a bunch of Thai writing and a numbers. I didn't know what it meant or how to put the minutes on my phone and it took two employees to get it done. Pain in the ass.
Tonight is dinner with Georgianna, Warner and Melissa at Salsa Kitchen and then karaoke.
It's getting so hot here that I'm really looking forward to spring weather. It's the best time for bike riding, as less people are out and you don't sweat as much.
I had to call Thai Kitchen Cookery Centre today to confirm my reservation for tomorrow because they never wrote back answering any of my questions and I wasn't even sure if they had received my request. It's a good thing I did because she seemed to have no idea what I was talking about and it took about ten minutes to try to explain to her what I wanted, where everyone needed to be picked up from and how many of us there are.
I also had to put more minutes on my phone, which involved me getting a receipt from 7-11 with a bunch of Thai writing and a numbers. I didn't know what it meant or how to put the minutes on my phone and it took two employees to get it done. Pain in the ass.
Tonight is dinner with Georgianna, Warner and Melissa at Salsa Kitchen and then karaoke.
It's getting so hot here that I'm really looking forward to spring weather. It's the best time for bike riding, as less people are out and you don't sweat as much.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
massage and things
Today was my second to last day of class and I think that Melissa and I kinda have senioritis. I don't think it helps that this week we've been learning specific complaint treatments and that very little has been new...sure there has been a new position here and there and there are a couple of things that we learned that I'm planning on throwing into my routine but overall I won't be using a lot of it. The sprained ankle treatment almost made me yell at the teacher, it's just not right. Our information said that we are to ice the ankle for the first 24-48 hours, fair, but then use a warm compress after that. And the treatment itself is to be done in the subacute stage and involves all this ankle movement and compression and stretching. I know that if I had a sprained ankle I wouldn't want any of those things done to me.
It also doesn't help that we've lost Duan to the teacher training program and are now learning from Ratree. She is, like Dao, very very nice, but doesn't pay attention. Her English is pretty good but sometimes isn't in the right order or we lose her point somewhere. Yesterday when Melissa was working on me she missed a whole part of the knee treatment but Ratree wasn't paying any attention and didn't call her on it. I, as the receiver, wouldn't have noticed because the rest of the treatment felt great, but as a person trying to learn as I'm getting massaged I noticed that something was missing. It just would have been nice if she had caught it. Duan would have. Ratree was a little more attentive today, but we were also doing pretty simple treatment, like a treatment for old/sick people which is a lot of really light work with a lot of wiggle room as far as the treatment itself goes.
When I got home from school I sat in a deep, low chair in the common area of my guest house and when I got up my leg/hip got tweaked again and so I decided to go to the blind massage place that's located just down the road from me. Daniela had went and said it was amazing and inexpensive so I decided to check it out.
It was definitely inexpensive, with tip it cost me about $4 US. The girl who worked on me was a tiny thing who liked to give a lot of pressure, which I very much enjoyed. There was absolutely no speaking between us and had I not been getting several massage per day for the past three weeks in class I probably wouldn't have know what to do. I couldn't tell her that it was my right hip and low back that were bothering me and I wish they would have gotten a little more love.
The room had about five other people getting massaged by blind people. I was watching the guy to my left give his massage and was pretty glad I wasn't over there. He was using a lot of knee and elbows in ways that I don't think I could have taken. One thing that this massage was missing, as all the other massages that I snuck peeks at, was the stretching. She did a body twist, which was nice but a little too gentle for me, and a leg stretch but that was it.
One of my favorite parts of the curriculum at TMC is the stretching. The compressions and fine and all, but the stretches are what really makes the whole massage. This massage was a lot closer to what we learn that the massage I got at the place last week, but at least she did a lot of stretches. Sure some of them were not what I wanted and felt a little unsafe, but it was in there.
I'm going to limp the market now. Fisherman pants here I come.
It also doesn't help that we've lost Duan to the teacher training program and are now learning from Ratree. She is, like Dao, very very nice, but doesn't pay attention. Her English is pretty good but sometimes isn't in the right order or we lose her point somewhere. Yesterday when Melissa was working on me she missed a whole part of the knee treatment but Ratree wasn't paying any attention and didn't call her on it. I, as the receiver, wouldn't have noticed because the rest of the treatment felt great, but as a person trying to learn as I'm getting massaged I noticed that something was missing. It just would have been nice if she had caught it. Duan would have. Ratree was a little more attentive today, but we were also doing pretty simple treatment, like a treatment for old/sick people which is a lot of really light work with a lot of wiggle room as far as the treatment itself goes.
When I got home from school I sat in a deep, low chair in the common area of my guest house and when I got up my leg/hip got tweaked again and so I decided to go to the blind massage place that's located just down the road from me. Daniela had went and said it was amazing and inexpensive so I decided to check it out.
It was definitely inexpensive, with tip it cost me about $4 US. The girl who worked on me was a tiny thing who liked to give a lot of pressure, which I very much enjoyed. There was absolutely no speaking between us and had I not been getting several massage per day for the past three weeks in class I probably wouldn't have know what to do. I couldn't tell her that it was my right hip and low back that were bothering me and I wish they would have gotten a little more love.
The room had about five other people getting massaged by blind people. I was watching the guy to my left give his massage and was pretty glad I wasn't over there. He was using a lot of knee and elbows in ways that I don't think I could have taken. One thing that this massage was missing, as all the other massages that I snuck peeks at, was the stretching. She did a body twist, which was nice but a little too gentle for me, and a leg stretch but that was it.
One of my favorite parts of the curriculum at TMC is the stretching. The compressions and fine and all, but the stretches are what really makes the whole massage. This massage was a lot closer to what we learn that the massage I got at the place last week, but at least she did a lot of stretches. Sure some of them were not what I wanted and felt a little unsafe, but it was in there.
I'm going to limp the market now. Fisherman pants here I come.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
So close...
To the end of my time here. I'm currently in my guest house's lobby because my power adapter is completely done. There will be no more pictures on here until my return next week.
I can't believe that my time here is almost done. I feel like I haven't even begun to learn what I want to learn and that I would need to stay here for months more to do so. I ran into one of the Pauls last night and we talked about studying with Pichette some more and his school. I want to do both and am going to check out the weekends at the school in Chicago and hopefully come back to study with Pichette. I'm just really hungry to learn this right now.
When I first started doing massage I never did continuing education and was just ok getting by with what I had learned in school. Now I feel like I need to get better, to expand my knowledge and become more than a therapist who gets by on deep tissue and Swedish alone. I really love Thai massage and want to learn as much about it as I possibly can.
This new drive is really going to get expensive.
It's getting pretty hot here. It was a little above 100 the other day and the rest of them while I'm here are supposed to be right around 100. I want to go to the zoo on Sunday before I leave but it might be too hot unless I go really early. They have pandas, though.
I'm taking a cooking class on Saturday and still need to go to the Saturday night market and the market in front of the mall tonight. This weekend is going to be busy until I get to the airport.
Last night a few of us had girls night. We ate dinner at the Blue Diamond, which is this super delicious vegetarian friends restaurant, located on Soi 9 off of the main road around the old city. It doubles as a restaurant and bakery and specializes in vegetarian Thai food, although everyone recommended the salads. Most of us got sandwiches because they had avacado, which is hard to come by, and they bake their own bread. I also ordered a papaya salad, which I've grown to really love while here. I was never a fan of papaya but these salads...they're spicy and sweet and just so delicious.
We had a lovely dinner and then walked to the bowling ally. Bowling. In Thailand. It's definitely something I never thought I would do. But we had such a great time. I bowled a 158, 145 and 135. I get tired by the third game. I also did something funny to my leg on my very first turn. The power of sleep and stretching seems to have fixed it.
My taxi to school will be here in a second. I hate not having my computer.
I can't believe that my time here is almost done. I feel like I haven't even begun to learn what I want to learn and that I would need to stay here for months more to do so. I ran into one of the Pauls last night and we talked about studying with Pichette some more and his school. I want to do both and am going to check out the weekends at the school in Chicago and hopefully come back to study with Pichette. I'm just really hungry to learn this right now.
When I first started doing massage I never did continuing education and was just ok getting by with what I had learned in school. Now I feel like I need to get better, to expand my knowledge and become more than a therapist who gets by on deep tissue and Swedish alone. I really love Thai massage and want to learn as much about it as I possibly can.
This new drive is really going to get expensive.
It's getting pretty hot here. It was a little above 100 the other day and the rest of them while I'm here are supposed to be right around 100. I want to go to the zoo on Sunday before I leave but it might be too hot unless I go really early. They have pandas, though.
I'm taking a cooking class on Saturday and still need to go to the Saturday night market and the market in front of the mall tonight. This weekend is going to be busy until I get to the airport.
Last night a few of us had girls night. We ate dinner at the Blue Diamond, which is this super delicious vegetarian friends restaurant, located on Soi 9 off of the main road around the old city. It doubles as a restaurant and bakery and specializes in vegetarian Thai food, although everyone recommended the salads. Most of us got sandwiches because they had avacado, which is hard to come by, and they bake their own bread. I also ordered a papaya salad, which I've grown to really love while here. I was never a fan of papaya but these salads...they're spicy and sweet and just so delicious.
We had a lovely dinner and then walked to the bowling ally. Bowling. In Thailand. It's definitely something I never thought I would do. But we had such a great time. I bowled a 158, 145 and 135. I get tired by the third game. I also did something funny to my leg on my very first turn. The power of sleep and stretching seems to have fixed it.
My taxi to school will be here in a second. I hate not having my computer.
Monday, March 8, 2010
monday not so fun day
I had another frustrated that I can't speak Thai day that turned into the taxi drivers are a bunch of a-holes day. The power adapter on my ibook is pretty jacked up and stopped working this morning so I went to three "authorized mac" stores today looking for a new one, but none of them had it. It was about 105 degrees today and walking all over the place for no reason at all after a long day at school was not my idea of a perfect afternoon.
I did, however, finally go to the Night Bazaar, which was overpriced and crowed but I did get my elephant ring and a super cute shirt. I looked for gifts for everyone who helped me out with Lola, but didn't find anything. I came up with some ideas, though.
At dinner our waiter messed up almost everything and Melissa had to have a stern talking to the bartender, who was the only person who spoke enough English to explain the food situation to. Then, we were completely unable to get a taxi, well we could but they were all treating us like a bunch who tourists who didn't know any better.
There are these red taxis, which I may or may not have mentioned before. They sorta look like trucks that would take you to your day labor job and they're supposed to cost a 20 baht flat rate. We much have spoken to at least six different taxis who asked us how much we wanted to pay and when we said 'you're a red taxi. you cost 20 baht' they all tried to get more, so we just kept walking. Thankfully we eventually found one who would accept his proper fare.
We did get to see two baby street elephants. It took a lot of will power for me not to touch them or give their owners money to feed them. These guys walk the babies around the old city with bags of sugar cane and you can give them money to feed the elephant. The only problem is that elephants need more than sugar cane to live, and that when they get older these guys don't want them anymore and then they need to be rescued. They're not treated very well and are probably pretty unhappy. But man, did I want to touch them.
I missed Nui today, which is so silly because I was only with her for about 8 hours and she did lead a stampede while I was on her back. But I still miss her. Man. I'm turning into a crazy elephant lady.
I never wrote about Friday, when a couple of notable things happened.
It was Gina and Tom's last night in town (frown) and I met them for dinner. Gina had spent the previous day with Pichette the previous day and I was interested in hearing what she learned. Pichette is a man who lives outside of Chiang Mai who is kind of a Thai massage guru. He's almost legend here with the massage students and they go to great lengths to see him. He teaches his students to be more intuitive and to use their bodies properly. I'm really interested in coming back and studying with him, as it will be completely different from TMC's incredibly structured program.
Gina introduced me to some people whom she met there, including Paul Fowler and Paul Weitz, who own Chicago School of Thai Massage. The Pauls and I talked a little bit about their school and studying with Pichette and it definitely gave me ideas about what I want to do in the future. Their program is 162 hours, but I'm not sure how much would overlap with what I've learned so I'll probably take a weekend course and then do further study with Pichette.
Gina, Tom and I went to Zoe in Yellow, which I had read about in Bess' blog. It was actually a really nice place, very chill. We talked with the owner for a bit. I feel like you never do that in the states, just hang out with the owners (unless it's Gold Star)
I did, however, finally go to the Night Bazaar, which was overpriced and crowed but I did get my elephant ring and a super cute shirt. I looked for gifts for everyone who helped me out with Lola, but didn't find anything. I came up with some ideas, though.
At dinner our waiter messed up almost everything and Melissa had to have a stern talking to the bartender, who was the only person who spoke enough English to explain the food situation to. Then, we were completely unable to get a taxi, well we could but they were all treating us like a bunch who tourists who didn't know any better.
There are these red taxis, which I may or may not have mentioned before. They sorta look like trucks that would take you to your day labor job and they're supposed to cost a 20 baht flat rate. We much have spoken to at least six different taxis who asked us how much we wanted to pay and when we said 'you're a red taxi. you cost 20 baht' they all tried to get more, so we just kept walking. Thankfully we eventually found one who would accept his proper fare.
We did get to see two baby street elephants. It took a lot of will power for me not to touch them or give their owners money to feed them. These guys walk the babies around the old city with bags of sugar cane and you can give them money to feed the elephant. The only problem is that elephants need more than sugar cane to live, and that when they get older these guys don't want them anymore and then they need to be rescued. They're not treated very well and are probably pretty unhappy. But man, did I want to touch them.
I missed Nui today, which is so silly because I was only with her for about 8 hours and she did lead a stampede while I was on her back. But I still miss her. Man. I'm turning into a crazy elephant lady.
I never wrote about Friday, when a couple of notable things happened.
It was Gina and Tom's last night in town (frown) and I met them for dinner. Gina had spent the previous day with Pichette the previous day and I was interested in hearing what she learned. Pichette is a man who lives outside of Chiang Mai who is kind of a Thai massage guru. He's almost legend here with the massage students and they go to great lengths to see him. He teaches his students to be more intuitive and to use their bodies properly. I'm really interested in coming back and studying with him, as it will be completely different from TMC's incredibly structured program.
Gina introduced me to some people whom she met there, including Paul Fowler and Paul Weitz, who own Chicago School of Thai Massage. The Pauls and I talked a little bit about their school and studying with Pichette and it definitely gave me ideas about what I want to do in the future. Their program is 162 hours, but I'm not sure how much would overlap with what I've learned so I'll probably take a weekend course and then do further study with Pichette.
Gina, Tom and I went to Zoe in Yellow, which I had read about in Bess' blog. It was actually a really nice place, very chill. We talked with the owner for a bit. I feel like you never do that in the states, just hang out with the owners (unless it's Gold Star)
The owner of Zoe in Yellow, Gina, Me
This was not the main event for the evening. That would come at Lavender Hotel where me, Bindya, Alfredo and Georianna saw the dirtiest ladyboy show...
There was no cover, just a one drink minimum. The drinks cost 200-250 baht, which is pretty pricey for here but getting into a show would normally be double that.
We were seated near the back, probably because we were not looking to purchase any of the merchandise. There were eight shirtless boys swaying on stage when we got there. Most of them looked incredibly bored, they all looked young. Each of them had a number hanging from their belt buckle so that if someone wanted to take them home, it would be easier to place their order.
The lady boys themselves were pretty impressive. One of them was so pretty that we actually asked out waiter if everyone performing was a ladyboy, that they didn't sneak a girl in there. He insisted that they were all boys. Amazing!
The performances were mostly pretty great. There were a couple where the ladyboy wore huge gowns and sang a slow song that were really just boring.
That is not the interesting part. There were about three "acts" in there that had nothing to do with lady boys. It was a basically a live, gay sex show. The first one was relatively tame. There was some touching but not actual sex acts were performed. The next, I think there was some oral in there. But the last one...man....really anything you could think of was happening up there. We were all pretty shocked and wished it would end sooner. I mean, we sorta expected it. We had heard that this one was pretty raunchy but I don't think any of us were prepared.
our intro
impressive dancer
she was the prettiest
all of our ladyboys
our ladyboy show group after the show
Sunday, March 7, 2010
deep breath in...
I'm a little annoyed with Thailand today. None of it is even Thailand's fault, really. I know that I posted the elephant post, but I started that yesterday and wanted to talk about the rest of the weekend, specifically Friday night's dirty ladyboy show. But first, I'm annoyed.
I got a lot of sleep last night after my long day of elephant fun, which was nice. I woke up, wanted to finished the elephant blog but the internet here is spotty at best. It kept quitting, not saving stuff, and then my computer did something weird and I lost most of the post because the stupid internet hadn't been working and the post hadn't auto-saved. I took a break and tried to get lunch, but everything is closed on Sundays here. I ended up eating at the guest house, which was fine. I tried to go to a pharmacy near here, but it was closed, so I ended up at a different one next to Tesco, one of the grocery stores. Apparently there's a Tesco Express not too far from here. I looked for something to put on my arm wounds, which they didn't have, but I did walk out with chocolate and batteries for my little speakers for my ipod.
I found another pharmacy and had to try to explain to the man who speaks very little English that I fell off of an elephant and got scraped by some sort of plant and now have these marks that are all puffy and burny and itchy. He gave me some sort of salve. Who knows what it is or if it will work. So far it looks the same but isn't itchy/burny anymore so that's good.
I had to do laundry, and needed change and detergent. The people at the laundromat laughed at me.
I didn't feel like doing anything so I tried to watch tv on the internet but the connection is so slow that it took me almost three hours to watch a 42 minute program.
I went to the grocery store to buy wine and cheese for Melissa's birthday tonight, but they won't sell alcohol between the hours of 2 and 5. I found some goat cheese with no price and it ended up costing almost $16 usd. When I tried to return it I had to pantomime my request to the ladies at the customer service. My fruit lady wasn't out yet because shit is impossible on Sundays... Arg. I'm just annoyed.
I'm going to hold off on the ladyboy post.
I got a lot of sleep last night after my long day of elephant fun, which was nice. I woke up, wanted to finished the elephant blog but the internet here is spotty at best. It kept quitting, not saving stuff, and then my computer did something weird and I lost most of the post because the stupid internet hadn't been working and the post hadn't auto-saved. I took a break and tried to get lunch, but everything is closed on Sundays here. I ended up eating at the guest house, which was fine. I tried to go to a pharmacy near here, but it was closed, so I ended up at a different one next to Tesco, one of the grocery stores. Apparently there's a Tesco Express not too far from here. I looked for something to put on my arm wounds, which they didn't have, but I did walk out with chocolate and batteries for my little speakers for my ipod.
I found another pharmacy and had to try to explain to the man who speaks very little English that I fell off of an elephant and got scraped by some sort of plant and now have these marks that are all puffy and burny and itchy. He gave me some sort of salve. Who knows what it is or if it will work. So far it looks the same but isn't itchy/burny anymore so that's good.
I had to do laundry, and needed change and detergent. The people at the laundromat laughed at me.
I didn't feel like doing anything so I tried to watch tv on the internet but the connection is so slow that it took me almost three hours to watch a 42 minute program.
I went to the grocery store to buy wine and cheese for Melissa's birthday tonight, but they won't sell alcohol between the hours of 2 and 5. I found some goat cheese with no price and it ended up costing almost $16 usd. When I tried to return it I had to pantomime my request to the ladies at the customer service. My fruit lady wasn't out yet because shit is impossible on Sundays... Arg. I'm just annoyed.
I'm going to hold off on the ladyboy post.
Saturday, March 6, 2010
ELEPHANTS!!!
When I first booked this trip to Thailand, I decided that I wasn't going to plan much of anything other than getting there and back and school, with one exception...an elephant trip. I found this one elephant farm in Lonley Planet that looked really interesting, kind of expensive but something I was very interested in.
The name of the farm is Patara Elephant Farm and it's located south of Chiang Mai. I booked my trip while I was still in Chicago, picking the second Saturday I was in town so I would have an open weekend when I first got here.
They picked me up this morning at 7:45am in the most comfortable vehicle I've been in since arriving in Thailand. The minivan with padded seats picked me up second, first was a man named Dave who's from Washington D.C. and is here traveling before starting law school. Next we picked up two other Americans, one studying at ITM, and a woman from Canada and then made the 40 minute trip to the camp located at the base of the mountains.
The man who owns the farm with his family is named Pat. He greeted our group, which in total was about 14 people, mostly Americans with two girls from Belgium in our group, a couple from Australia and England in the other. We got a short lesson on the goals of the farm, which is to breed elephants to increase the population. Pat told us that he does some elephant rescue but usually only with domestic elephants who are in relatively healthy condition.
Patara hopes to have ten new baby elephants in the next three years. They currently they have twin year old boys and at least two elephants who are pregnant. We got to see the babies from afar, they're shorter than the men who were walking with them, which is pretty short since Thai men aren't known for their height.
We were told that we all had to wear these shirts made by local villagers that they make everyone who interacts with the elephants wear. They also made us wear fisherman pants while we rode the elephants, apparently to reduce leg slippage and, in my opinion, elephant hair pricks. The seven people in my group put on our shirts and hiked down to where our elephants were being kept.
We were taught how to tell if an elephant is in a good mood by watching their ears and tails. If they're moving around and their ears are back, they're in a good mood. If they're ears are out, stay away. They are also supposed to speak when you call their name, but mine would never do that.
Ben, who was our group leader, told us the story of an elephant farm in southern Thailand where the elephants were all upset, ears out, at the same time and kept trying to lead the people who ran the farm out and away from the farm. The people decided to follow the elephants to see where they thought they needed to go. The elephants led the people to high ground and started to calm down. Shortly after,the big sunami hit southern Thailand, wiping out the elephant farm. Those elephants...so smart.
Once it was decided that our elephants were in a good mood we were each assigned one and then given a basket full of treats, bananas and bamboo, to give to them. I guess we were bribing them to like us. I was assigned a sassy 20 year old named Nui. The first thing she did when I walked up to her was spit on me. I'm not quite sure if that's a good sign or not, but it seemed to work out.
In order to get them to open their mouths to let us put food in we had to say "bon" (although if we didn't say bon, they would have taken the food out of our hands with their trunks). Once they opened their mouths we were to put the food in there. It's so weird sticking your hang in an elephant's mouth. First of all, they're huge, I mean an animal that size would need a big mouth. Secondly, it's the inside of a giant mouth. They don't have visible teeth just a huge tongue and lips that create a suction when you stick something in there. Their teeth are horizontal and not visible so I wasn't afraid about getting bit, but my hand did get stuck in the suction once or twice. The basket didn't last long so I stood with Nui and pet her trunk, telling her "dee dee" which means good girl. I think we bonded pretty well, although that didn't make her a good listener.
Next, we were taught how to tell if our elephants were healthy. First sign is if they are moving their tails and ears, healthy means happy after all. Next sign was to look for sleep marks on their bodies. Third thing to look for was sweat, elephants sweat near their toenails. If they aren't sweating then they aren't regulating their body temperature properly and are most likely ill. Lastly we were to check the dung to make sure it was moist, it didn't smell badly, that there was enough of it (at least six piles. Nui had 10) and that it was fiberous. This was the part that I knew was coming and wasn't looking forward to but it wasn't that bad. Elephant poop smells like hay, and sort of feels like it too so it wasn't like sticking your hand in dog feces. It was more like sorting through small pieces of wet hay or damp dried grass.
The name of the farm is Patara Elephant Farm and it's located south of Chiang Mai. I booked my trip while I was still in Chicago, picking the second Saturday I was in town so I would have an open weekend when I first got here.
They picked me up this morning at 7:45am in the most comfortable vehicle I've been in since arriving in Thailand. The minivan with padded seats picked me up second, first was a man named Dave who's from Washington D.C. and is here traveling before starting law school. Next we picked up two other Americans, one studying at ITM, and a woman from Canada and then made the 40 minute trip to the camp located at the base of the mountains.
Pat, the owner, and the shirts we all had to wear
The man who owns the farm with his family is named Pat. He greeted our group, which in total was about 14 people, mostly Americans with two girls from Belgium in our group, a couple from Australia and England in the other. We got a short lesson on the goals of the farm, which is to breed elephants to increase the population. Pat told us that he does some elephant rescue but usually only with domestic elephants who are in relatively healthy condition.
Patara hopes to have ten new baby elephants in the next three years. They currently they have twin year old boys and at least two elephants who are pregnant. We got to see the babies from afar, they're shorter than the men who were walking with them, which is pretty short since Thai men aren't known for their height.
Overlooking the camp
We were told that we all had to wear these shirts made by local villagers that they make everyone who interacts with the elephants wear. They also made us wear fisherman pants while we rode the elephants, apparently to reduce leg slippage and, in my opinion, elephant hair pricks. The seven people in my group put on our shirts and hiked down to where our elephants were being kept.
The path that leads to elephants
When we arrived we were assigned our elephants for the day. Two of our elephants were pregnant, one 16 months an the other, mine, something like 5 months. Elephants carry their young almost two years. Can you imagine being pregnant for that long? And carrying a baby that weights about 260 pounds? It's totally insane.
Our elephants
We were taught how to tell if an elephant is in a good mood by watching their ears and tails. If they're moving around and their ears are back, they're in a good mood. If they're ears are out, stay away. They are also supposed to speak when you call their name, but mine would never do that.
Ben, who was our group leader, told us the story of an elephant farm in southern Thailand where the elephants were all upset, ears out, at the same time and kept trying to lead the people who ran the farm out and away from the farm. The people decided to follow the elephants to see where they thought they needed to go. The elephants led the people to high ground and started to calm down. Shortly after,the big sunami hit southern Thailand, wiping out the elephant farm. Those elephants...so smart.
Once it was decided that our elephants were in a good mood we were each assigned one and then given a basket full of treats, bananas and bamboo, to give to them. I guess we were bribing them to like us. I was assigned a sassy 20 year old named Nui. The first thing she did when I walked up to her was spit on me. I'm not quite sure if that's a good sign or not, but it seemed to work out.
My girl taking a break from holding her head up
In order to get them to open their mouths to let us put food in we had to say "bon" (although if we didn't say bon, they would have taken the food out of our hands with their trunks). Once they opened their mouths we were to put the food in there. It's so weird sticking your hang in an elephant's mouth. First of all, they're huge, I mean an animal that size would need a big mouth. Secondly, it's the inside of a giant mouth. They don't have visible teeth just a huge tongue and lips that create a suction when you stick something in there. Their teeth are horizontal and not visible so I wasn't afraid about getting bit, but my hand did get stuck in the suction once or twice. The basket didn't last long so I stood with Nui and pet her trunk, telling her "dee dee" which means good girl. I think we bonded pretty well, although that didn't make her a good listener.
Bon
Next, we were taught how to tell if our elephants were healthy. First sign is if they are moving their tails and ears, healthy means happy after all. Next sign was to look for sleep marks on their bodies. Third thing to look for was sweat, elephants sweat near their toenails. If they aren't sweating then they aren't regulating their body temperature properly and are most likely ill. Lastly we were to check the dung to make sure it was moist, it didn't smell badly, that there was enough of it (at least six piles. Nui had 10) and that it was fiberous. This was the part that I knew was coming and wasn't looking forward to but it wasn't that bad. Elephant poop smells like hay, and sort of feels like it too so it wasn't like sticking your hand in dog feces. It was more like sorting through small pieces of wet hay or damp dried grass.
Smelling the poop
After we all made sure our elephants were in tip top shape, we tugged on their ear and told them to "ma" or come. We were trying to get them separated so we could, basically, beat them with brushes made of leaves. Some of the elephants ate their brushes when they were done. In retrospect, I'm pretty surprised Nui didn't.
Elephants throw dirt onto their backs in order to keep away bugs and stay a little cooler. The whole time we were checking to make sure they were healthy, they were getting themselves nice and dirty for us to clean off. Elephants, obviously, are much taller than we are so in order to get their backs free of loose dirt we had to tell them to "nan long" or lay down.
This was my introduction to Noi's defiant side. She did not want to lay down. She wouldn't listen to me when I said it (which isn't surprising), she wouldn't listen to my trainer when he said it. She just wouldn't lay down. We eventually got her down and I got to try to beat off most of her dirty before we went into the river for a bath.
Brushing my girl with leaves
Next my trainer led me and Nui to the river. I wasn't really sure what was going on because my trainer had us go but none of the other elephants went in the same direction. It ended up being just the three of us in this one part of the river, which was pretty nice. We used buckets covered in bamboo to get her wet and made her lay in the river we so could wash her and brush her with a proper brush.
Bath time
Apparently Nui is known for her water antics. She has no problem getting into the water and is the elephant they call upon to spray unsuspecting "owners for the day" while they're trying to get their pictures taken. She did it to me and the Belgian girls while we sat getting out picture takes (on my trainer's command of course) and then when it was time for the other section of the group to get their pictures they brought her over there to do it to them too. Little devil.
Post cleaning we got to learn how to get on our elephants. There were three ways that Ben showed us. The first way, or the hard way as he puts it, is to ask the elephant to bend her front leg but patting it and saying dee dee. Once she lifts her leg you hold onto her ear and step up her leg using her ankle and thigh and then swing your leg over her. It isn't easy, but it gets you up there. The second method is to have the elephant put her head down and then jump up onto the top of the head/neck. Ben seemed to think this way was easy, but I don't think anyone even tried. The third way, or the easy way, was to have the elephant lay down and then just get onto it while it's down there. The lazy man's version.
I chose the leg method. There's a video at the end of this post if you'd like to watch. I think I did an ok job, although as the day went on it got harder to do.
No hands!
The actual riding of the elephant is easy enough. You have to sit close to the head with your knees bent and just over the ears so you can give the elephant commands with your legs. This works in theory, but Nui wasn't having it. The command for go is "bi" and stop is "how." She did how just fine but bi, not so much. She stopped to eat constantly, which is good because they're supposed to eat a lot and she's pregnant so needs to more, but she was holding everyone up and would stop all the time to rip trees out of the ground and get all ear flappy when we made her go. No matter how many times I said bi and deedee she just didn't care. My trainer had to tap her with a bamboo stick and pull on the rope that was around her body to get her to go. She was hungry. She was bigger than me and my trainer. She was stopping.
This caused some hold up as we rode our elephants through the camp and then down the road to the small trail that led to the waterfall where we would be having lunch. The only place she didn't walk slowly and try to eat everything was when we were approaching the other half of camp where the rest of the day's guests were. My guess is she knew that she got fed there and was in a hurry to get some bananas.
My knee, Nui's ear. The view from an elephant
The first elephant in line was afraid of water and would stop before each stream or puddle, but not Noi. She was fearless when it came to water and obstacles, they were just something between her and the next branch she was going to eat.
Anyway, we rode our elephants in a big, slow line to a waterfall that wasn't far from the camp for swimming and lunch. The waterfall itself was quit small, as it's dry season, but there was enough of a pool of water for the elephants to play. Play they did. Most of our elephants absolutely loved the water. When we first got there about half stayed on the rocks and just rested. The very pregnant girl never got in, but, you know, she's about to give birth. The ones who did get in dunked themselves, twirled around, sprayed water. They were just loving it.
loving the water
I know someone who went last week and she said that no one from her group got in. Not ours, we all got in, even if we didn't all try to get on the elephants in the water. I actually slid into the water. The rock surrounding the water was pretty slipper when it got wet, especially the rocks under the small stream of water that led into the pool. Well, I totally slipped on it as I was trying to get to the dryer rock and ended up sliding all the way down the rock and into Cat, a woman from our group, and the water. She was fine and I was fine, but everyone thought it was pretty funny.
The elephants were already laying down in the water so you'd think it would be pretty easy to get on them, but it wasn't. They were moving so much that it was like riding a bull. The trainers wanted us to stay on top of the elephant no matter what direction they went, which involved trying to slide you body over them as they turned. Elephants aren't slippery though. Their hair is like little quills and the water doesn't change that. When I got off of the first elephant my thighs were quite red from the rough skin and hair. We each got on at least once, but I did it twice. One of the Belgian girls got to stand on the elephant, which made me really jealous.
It was sort of chaotic while we were in the water if more than one of us were trying to ride the elephants at the same time. One time I was getting on mine and someone was on the elephant next to me. His elephant was trying to stand up while mine was still laying down and my leg got caught between them. Luckily, though, elephants are squishy and nothing was hurt.
Trying to stay on
The water was pretty dirty, and probably full of elephant poop, so Ben suggested we go to the waterfall to rinse off in clean water. It was quite refreshing but was so small that it was tough to actually get clean. Me and Cat tried to change out of our suits behind the towel I brought, which was pretty interesting while surrounded by all of our trainers. We did it though and then went up to this little tree house-like structure for lunch.
Lunch looked beautiful. It was fried chicken legs and many different varieties of sticky rice. There was plain to eat with the chicken, there was sticky rice with custard, sticky rice with coconut, sticky rice with banana, with potato, with beans. A lot of sticky rice. There was so much food that we couldn't eat most of it and got to give the leftovers to the elephants (but not the chicken or oranges).
lunch for us and our elephants
While we were eating the other half of the original group showed up and almost all of our elephants got into the water with their elephants. As far as I could tell, none of the humans got in the water though. They were missing out.
Elephant party.
After lunch we got to ride back up the hill and across the street, over the guard rail (which you can do when you're on a giant elephant) and into the foothills that were covered in trees. We were to follow a narrow, somewhat treacherous trail that seemed to be carved out be elephants. Nui didn't hesitate going over the rail, but did at times when we were going down hill. She did a little better going forward on my command this half and only seemed to balk at going when the trail got more difficult. She still stopped to eat, but I learned that if we were close to a tree I could push against it and make her go.
When going up hill you're supposed to lean forward and lean backward while going down. There was a lot of both on this section of the ride.
When going up hill you're supposed to lean forward and lean backward while going down. There was a lot of both on this section of the ride.
Over the rail and onto the trail
Going up hill, leaning forward
Everything was going pretty well on the trail and we had been riding for a while when we heard, what sounded like, steel drums being played. We didn't know where it was coming from, our elephants didn't know where it was coming from, and the first elephant, who was already a little jumpy, bellowed and lifted her head and started to turn, which caused my elephant to turn and the elephant in front of mine to turn and the next thing I knew I was being taken off the trail at running speeds going who knows where.
Nui was the first elephant to run. She knocked past the elephant that was behind us and into the trees. I held onto the rope as tightly as I could, figuring it was better to stay on her than to come off and possibly be trampled. She couldn't have been running that long before my trainer caught up to us and put his arms out and told me to fall backwards. It took me a second to register what he was saying because I was still holding on for my life and had no idea where we were going or what you're supposed to do when you're the leader of an elephant stampede. I did let go and fell back onto him and we layed on the ground watching as two or three other elephants ran past our heads.
It was kind of surreal to watch from that angle as giant legs passed at a distance of about a foot. Movies get the sound of running by large beasts pretty spot on. I'm pretty lucky we fell off to the side, or I probably wouldn't be writing this entry.
After it was quite we both got up, he handed me my shoes (you ride barefoot, which I forgot to mention) and I looked around. There were maybe three elephants on higher ground who didn't run. Down the hill closer to the trail were people who had come off their elephants. Closest to me was one of the Belgian girls and her trainer. Down by the path was another trainer and another woman. We all started yelling, asking if everyone was ok. The woman on the path said she had been cut and it was pretty bad. Her husband was on one of the elephants that hadn't ran and he was franticly trying to get off his elephant and to his wife.
My trainer left me once he knew I was ok to try to find Nui. The other elephants involved in the incident had stopped but she had kept going. Someone on a higher ground elephant said she saw her down in a ravine but I couldn't see her.
I walked back to the path to see what was going on. The woman (I wish I was better with names) was laying on the ground with some sort of gauze on her foot. There was a lot of blood and someone said later that her cut started from the inside of her big toe and went to the middle of her foot. One of the trainers called Ben and arranged for the vans to come get us and bring her to the hospital. She wasn't freaking out, she just said she thought she needed stitches and that maybe her foot had gotten stepped on by an elephant during the chaos.
She was pretty tough, though, and walked herself down the rest of the hill. She has lost her camera during the incident and her husband looked for it upon her request. One of the trainers found it.
We all just stood there for a while, pretty stunned. The trainers made everyone except for Cat get off of the elephants, although there were only two people left on elephants. I guess Cat's elephant wasn't even phased during the whole thing. Other people said that their elephants just moved up hill a little to get out of the way.
They decided that we had to walk back down, that our elephants were too spooked to get back on. I was totally bummed, although at that point Nui was still missing so I couldn't have gotten back on her anyway. I'm glad my trainer made me fall, otherwise who knows where I would have ended up or if I could have kept holding on.
Ben met us when we were close to the road and was freaking out. I don't think this happens very often. What I understood from his distraught broken English, the people in the village know when the elephants are out and keep quiet because if the elephants can't see where the sound is coming from they get scared and, well, do what ours did. They run. He thinks it was a car with a loud stereo going by and not the villagers.
He asked if we were alright and apologized at least five times. We insisted we were fine and that they are animals and get scared and it was ok. I asked if we could get back on but he ignored me.
Nui was found and the trainers rode the elephants back.
Nui was the first elephant to run. She knocked past the elephant that was behind us and into the trees. I held onto the rope as tightly as I could, figuring it was better to stay on her than to come off and possibly be trampled. She couldn't have been running that long before my trainer caught up to us and put his arms out and told me to fall backwards. It took me a second to register what he was saying because I was still holding on for my life and had no idea where we were going or what you're supposed to do when you're the leader of an elephant stampede. I did let go and fell back onto him and we layed on the ground watching as two or three other elephants ran past our heads.
It was kind of surreal to watch from that angle as giant legs passed at a distance of about a foot. Movies get the sound of running by large beasts pretty spot on. I'm pretty lucky we fell off to the side, or I probably wouldn't be writing this entry.
After it was quite we both got up, he handed me my shoes (you ride barefoot, which I forgot to mention) and I looked around. There were maybe three elephants on higher ground who didn't run. Down the hill closer to the trail were people who had come off their elephants. Closest to me was one of the Belgian girls and her trainer. Down by the path was another trainer and another woman. We all started yelling, asking if everyone was ok. The woman on the path said she had been cut and it was pretty bad. Her husband was on one of the elephants that hadn't ran and he was franticly trying to get off his elephant and to his wife.
My trainer left me once he knew I was ok to try to find Nui. The other elephants involved in the incident had stopped but she had kept going. Someone on a higher ground elephant said she saw her down in a ravine but I couldn't see her.
I walked back to the path to see what was going on. The woman (I wish I was better with names) was laying on the ground with some sort of gauze on her foot. There was a lot of blood and someone said later that her cut started from the inside of her big toe and went to the middle of her foot. One of the trainers called Ben and arranged for the vans to come get us and bring her to the hospital. She wasn't freaking out, she just said she thought she needed stitches and that maybe her foot had gotten stepped on by an elephant during the chaos.
She was pretty tough, though, and walked herself down the rest of the hill. She has lost her camera during the incident and her husband looked for it upon her request. One of the trainers found it.
We all just stood there for a while, pretty stunned. The trainers made everyone except for Cat get off of the elephants, although there were only two people left on elephants. I guess Cat's elephant wasn't even phased during the whole thing. Other people said that their elephants just moved up hill a little to get out of the way.
They decided that we had to walk back down, that our elephants were too spooked to get back on. I was totally bummed, although at that point Nui was still missing so I couldn't have gotten back on her anyway. I'm glad my trainer made me fall, otherwise who knows where I would have ended up or if I could have kept holding on.
Ben met us when we were close to the road and was freaking out. I don't think this happens very often. What I understood from his distraught broken English, the people in the village know when the elephants are out and keep quiet because if the elephants can't see where the sound is coming from they get scared and, well, do what ours did. They run. He thinks it was a car with a loud stereo going by and not the villagers.
Arm wound from fall off the elephant
He asked if we were alright and apologized at least five times. We insisted we were fine and that they are animals and get scared and it was ok. I asked if we could get back on but he ignored me.
Nui was found and the trainers rode the elephants back.
Cat, our lone post-mini stampede elephant rider
We got back to the camp and fed our elephants some more bananas to thank them for the day, but we were all pretty ready to get back on. We asked Ben if it would be alright if we rode some more. He seemed pretty surprised but said yes. So we all got back on and rode our elephants through the creek and to the village, where I'm guessing we were supposed to see some sort of small performance but because of the agitated state our elephants had been in, we had to cut our ride just a little bit short.
End of day ride through the creek
We got to give our elephants one last basket of treats and say goodbye to them and our trainers.
my hero
me and Nui
Nui
Cat and her calm old lady
Overall it was one of the best day's I've ever had and would recommend it to anyone coming to Chiang Mai.
I was thinking about the elephants on my way to dinner last night. They're just so amazing. They're beautiful creatures that are so wise and caring. They're enormous and yet delicate. I thought about the sounds they make, and how they sound like dinosaurs out of Jurassic Park. If I come back, I'll do it again. Even with the stampede, it only made my love of them grow.
This is me getting on Nui.
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