Then and Now 26 - Odds and Ends 2

Then and Now 26 - Odds and Ends 2
Time: Before I got married.

I have an odd memory that starts and ends abruptly. The first thing I remember was walking down a dark street at night, and passing by a little shop that sold ice cream. The road was a wide and normally busy one, but it was so late that I was the only one there.

I walked through the peaceful night all the way up to an intriguing sight: the road forked in two directions and houses lined both sides of both roads, and above them were awnings that looked like they had just been put up. Judging from the abundant number of trash bins and the tons of closed stores all around, I figured it was some kind of outdoor shopping market, or the awnings might have indicated a wedding party had been thrown there shortly before.

In any case, I arrived there when everything was closed and nobody was around. When I walked down the streets and peeked into the stores here and there, I felt like I was exploring a ghost town that had cleared out overnight. It was not only a peaceful night for me, but a little mysterious, too.

-----

A day or two after I first arrived at the hostel, I was talking to the daughter of the owner in the local language. I wanted to get to know her better, so I invited her out to get lunch with me downstairs. She refused without hesitation, and being surrounded by foreigners who probably asked her out on a daily basis, I didn't blame her.

I assured her that I didn't have any intentions of starting a relationship, and that I just wondered if she wanted something to eat. She perked up suddenly and agreed, so we went downstairs to get two boxed lunches and bring them back to the hostel to eat. Up there, she, her friend who had come by and I talked for a while about the things I could do and the places I could visit while I was in the main city.

A bit later, I went downstairs and bought my first bottle of hair gel, specifically asking for the strongest brand they had. After I bought it, I went back upstairs and spiked my hair for the first time in my life, and I couldn't believe how handsome I looked in the mirror. I went out to the front desk to ask the owner's daughter what she thought, and she said it looked really good. Ego buffeted, I went downstairs to go walk around the city for a while, rocking my new look.

-----

For the first few weeks at my bud's aunt's place, I was still a bit overweight by maybe twenty or thirty pounds, so I decided to go on a very low calorie diet. But to make sure I didn't get sick, my bud and I went to a nutrition store so I could buy a big bottle of Centrum. I didn't know much of the local language, and my bud wanted me to learn by immersion, so I stumbled out what I could to buy the vitamins. Speaking very slowly and clearly, the workers there helped me find the best deal for the most vitamins to suit my diet. When we found a good bottle, I bought it, thanked them, then my bud and I went home.

I went back just a day or two later to say thanks for all their help, and I tried to use simple words to ask if they got a bonus if I became a member of the store, because I wanted to pay them back for their assistance. I ended up saying something like, "If I go together with your store, will your boss give you money?"

I guess I didn't say the right words, or it was too simple, because all I got were blank stares and nods that didn't mean anything. I thanked them again, and walked out of the store, red-faced but smiling, to join up with my bud. I looked back to see them all laughing nervously and waving goodbye. Foolish or not, I'm glad my poor language skills were enough to give them a story to tell about the dumb foreigner who came in and couldn't yet speak a lick of their language.

-----

One time at the underground mall near the subway station, I was walking by a couple of stores and taking in the sights. I was drawn to a few of the electronics shops, being a huge nerd and all, and was seeing what I could see of the games that the locals enjoyed and played. I'll never forget walking by the card and miniatures shop where some local guys were playing a card game: they were as scraggly and heavily overweight/underweight as the nerds I knew back in the card shops I used to go to.

But even more, I noticed the smell. Worlds away and experiencing an entirely different culture, and the funk of unwashed nerd BO was exactly the same as it was back home. That reek made me think of home, though I really wish it hadn't.

-----

As I made more and more friends on the internet from my apartment, I started getting many peoples' phone numbers and email addresses to contact them. Another thing I got were dozens of peoples' screen handles for different chat programs. I gave them all my information, then logged onto chat every few days to see who was on.

Every single time, I was suddenly bombarded with eight or ten messages from people wanting to talk with me. It was tiring talking with so many people at the same time, especially since I was making so many friends and acquaintances that I couldn't remember half of who I was talking to. I actually started avoiding going online just so I wouldn't be furiously typing stories and jokes to a dozen people more than a few days a week. But I still tried to find time to say hello to everyone online when I could, and spent at least an hour chatting every time until my hands twisted into claws from typing so fast and much. I met up with a couple of them and they became good friends during my single life, but most of them were internet-only acquaintances.

One of them, Yvonne, was an eighteen year old local girl, fresh in college, and super cute. We talked online several times a week about the experiences of foreigners in this country, and whether or not she would date one. I cracked a joke that she shouldn't, because most of the foreigners here were fat, old, bald and smelled like cheese. She was on video cam for that chat, and I saw her laughing uproariously.

We also talked quite a bit about sex: sex before marriage, her period, dating foreigners, all kinds of topics. I probably would have pursued something more with her if I didn't start dating my wife a month or two after I moved to my apartment.

As for today...

I woke up at 9:00.
I played cars with my son.
I roughhoused with him.
My wife woke up.
I talked with her.
I ate lunch.
I took my son to the arcade, then we went home.
I watched TV.
I played cars with my son.
He and my wife took a nap.
I played video games.
My wife and son woke up, so I turned off the computer.
She went to work.
I played cars with my son.
I played video games.
I went to work.
I taught students.
I came home.
I ate dinner.
I cleaned up the floor and table.
I folded and put away a mountain of dry clothes.
I did the dishes.
I slept.

Then and Now 25 - Typical Day

Then and Now 25 - Typical Day
Time: Late 2007, dating my wife.

For the sake of this Then and Now, I'm going to refer to my wife as my girlfriend.

Before we got married, my girlfriend and I had a great relationship. I'll detail how we got together in another Then and Now, and focus on how we usually spent our time together in this one.

I had two and a half days off during my time working at my school: Sunday and Tuesday were completely off, and every hour after 12:00 on Saturday was also completely free. My girlfriend and I usually got together on Saturday night after I had some time to adventure and hang with friends in the afternoon, and we stayed together until Sunday night when work was about to begin again for the both of us. Because we hardly ever spent any time on Tuesday, which was the day I usually stayed at home all day (or sometimes went to the city to look around), our typical day was Sunday.

She would usually come to my house around 8:00 or 9:00 on Saturday night, and I would go downstairs to open the security door to let her in. We would talk and joke around for our little trip upstairs, then after we got inside and she had taken a shower, we had about an hour or so for sex. After that, we would either sleep until early Sunday morning, or we would spend a little time watching TV or talking before finally drifting off.

I remember her doing this little quiz where she kept asking me to repeat her full name in the middle of the night. It was a joke that we shared to pretend that I was some kind of playboy who didn't remember the names of the hundreds of women he had slept with. One night, while especially tired, she asked me for the fifth or sixth time. I teasingly mumbled, "Could you just let me sleep?" She giggled, squeezed me tight, and we were off to dreamland.

When we weren't heading outside to look around, window shop, explore the main city or just take a walk, we usually had sex again in the morning, then napped until noon or so. After that, it was just the two of us spending time together. We had all kinds of activities planned and ready to go and I have a few Then and Now posts planned for later on some stuff we did outside the apartment, but inside my place, it was a very relaxing time. I think it might do to just have a couple of experiences written down here to give a taste of our good times together.

I remember us watching DVDs together, and me sharing some of my favorite shows from America: Sliders, Stargate SG-1, our mutual favorite Alf, and several others. I would always go downstairs to the supermarket to get us some popcorn and a few other goodies, just to make the movie experience complete. She was always very attentive and interested in everything we watched, and even had a dream or two of sliding or exploring other worlds while at my place.

There was another time where we were done with sex and DVDs for the day, and she insisted that I just go ahead and do what I usually did at my house, and not to worry about her. So I did: I took out my laptop, and started playing Jedi Academy. She didn't even pull out a book or turn on the TV, and instead watched me play, something she hasn't done since we married. I still remember starting the game and playing through the tutorial stage after the ship crash, pulling out my lightsaber and cutting down a tree to cross a river. When I got to the other side, I started cutting up a rock. She laughed and asked me why I was doing that, and I just answered, "I dunno. I just felt like it." She laughed again, like it was the funniest or silliest thing she had ever seen.

I also remember another time with a strange problem: every time my girl came over to see me on the weekend, she would immediately pull out my mop and broom and start cleaning the floor, even though it already looked fine. It kind of annoyed me and I asked her to stop and just come to bed to be with me, and not only did she listen to me, but she needlessly wrote me an apology letter later about not doing it again, even writing "Go to hell, mop!" Comparing my girlfriend to my wife today, who expects me to do almost all the cleaning, is as clear as night and day.

If there is any confusion as to why there are so few Then and Now posts related to my time while dating my girl, then the reason here is plain: we spent many weekends together doing basically the same fun stuff, and writing a separate Then and Now for each of them would be pointless and boring. This Then and Now, while only number 25, describes one or two dozen days of peace, fun, sex and good times between my girlfriend and me.

I haven't seen that girl in years.

Then and Now 24 - Movies

Then and Now 24 - Movies
Time: Mid-2007, at my bud's aunt's place.

I've always been a fan of the Harry Potter movies, though I've never read the books. My best friend was also a big fan, to the point where he actually bought one of its awful tie-in games to play on his PS2. We actually went out twice, two grown adults, to go see a Harry Potter movie in the theaters just so we could keep the ticket stubs as mementos. Both he and I decided we were going to collect a stub for each of the movies that would come out, just to prove that we had been there when the Potter craze started.

I saw all four of the first movies and kept the ticket stubs in my memories box, but I didn't catch the fifth one before I left America. So when I got to this country, I was happy to see that it was still playing in the theaters, and that I would have a chance to get another ticket stub, this time in a foreign language.

I asked my bud if he wanted to go, but he stubbornly refused, not being a fan of the series, so I shrugged and decided to head out on my own. I got my wallet, dressed up and headed downstairs past the many pieces of furniture that my bud's aunt sold, and out onto the street.

My bud and I had been to the movie theater area several times before. After turning right on the sidewalk outside of his aunt's store, I followed the low overhang of the buildings above me, and the awnings of the stores next to me, until I found a little alley and turned right on it. Above and ahead of me was a little dentist's office. I still remember the name and how it was written in English, and how it contained a pun that only a speaker of both English and the local language would be able to understand. I walked through a little outdoor market, with little stalls in the middle of the road and several more lining the curb, selling clothes, bags and other items. And finally, I came to the "busy" part of the sleepy city my bud and I lived in.

The movie theater was sandwiched between two other shops, and were it not for the posters outside, would have seemed like a regular store. I went inside and bought a ticket, some popcorn and a Pepsi with the words I had just learned a week prior, and went downstairs to find my seat. The girl who took my ticket was an absolute knockout. I chatted her up a bit in the local language, but because my skills were still poor, I broke off my attempts to get to know her prematurely to go in and find my seat.

At the time, I rationalized that I was probably going to be moving to the main city in a few weeks, and I shouldn't start something with a girl that I couldn't finish. In truth, though, I was still a bit shy and unsure of how to proceed with conversations with people, and not just because they were in the local language. I had been so out of practice with talking to strangers in my depressed days that I had to re-learn all the basics of social interaction, and I still faltered here and there. Regardless, I was still feeling quite good. I had some good eats and an awesome movie to watch, and I was doing it all by my lonesome. Little by little, I was coming out of my shell.

The movie was excellent, through and through: subtitled in the local language and in spoken English, so I had a chance to practice my language skills as I enjoyed it. When it was finished, I headed out in the fading light to meet back up with my friend at his aunt's place.

He was inside, playing PSP and watching some TV. His laptop was on and sitting next to him on a little table, and he was playing some of his favorite tunes, but the only two songs I remember him playing at that moment were "Dirty Deeds Done Dirt Cheap" and "California Love." We flipped stations for a while, until we finally settled on a movie channel that plays lots of subtitled B-movies from America. Unlike most of the people I knew back in America, my bud wasn't the type to constantly overtalk and snark on bad movies, incessantly pointing out fake CGI or plot holes that are plainly obvious to anyone else watching them. My best friend, my bud and I, all three of us, preferred to have fun and just roll with it.

Watching that channel over several weeks, my bud and I had lots of fun with those movies. We would make bets on who would survive or who would die, and I always bet against John Rhys-Davies, one of my favorite actors, who seems to die in every B-movie he's in. We would talk about what weapons or tactics we would use to fight the giant random animal monster that was eating people. Or we would try to find familiar faces and remember other movies they had been in.

The movie we watched that night was about a giant Pterodactyl flying around and killing a bunch of people. We flipped to other channels a couple of times, but that stupid dinosaur kept pulling us back. When we had watched about half the movie, "Love Rollercoaster" started to play on my bud's laptop. When the chorus came up, I got this big, stupid grin on my face and started to sing along. "Pterodactyl... of love! Pterodactyl... ooh hoo hoo hoo!" I sang. My bud busted up laughing, and we both sang together on the next part: "Your love is like, a Pterodactyl baby baby! I wanna ride!"

Every time we came back to that movie from flipping around the TV, one or both of us would just start singing again, and we would stay on the flick even longer than the time before. That song was a little joke between us for the next entire month; we sang it almost every day for no reason at all.

I loved that channel. In fact, there was a man I saw in almost every B-movie that my bud and I watched together, who was a very natural actor and very fit. He started to grow on me, little by little. When I got internet access in the hostel about two months later, I did some research and found out his name: Mark Dacascos. Whenever I see him in any movie, or just watch a B-movie in general, I can't help but feel nostalgic for those old days before I got married, and the good times I once had.

As for today...

I woke up at 10:00.
I ate lunch.
I played video games.
I took my son to the arcade, then we went home.
I played cars with him.
I went to work.
I taught students.
I came home.
I ate dinner.
I surfed the net.
I showered my son.
I cleaned up the floor and table.
I did the dishes.
I slept.

Then and Now 23 - May's Gift

Then and Now 23 - May's Gift
Time: Late 2007, single and at my apartment.

This was the last time I ever saw May.

I got an email from her while I was at my apartment one day, and she asked if she wanted me to come meet her in the main city. I don't remember if this was her apartment that she had moved to, or her friend's, but I agreed and we set up a time to meet. It was a long subway ride before I got to her stop, and this was the first time I had been to that area.

The walk to her place was very relaxing. I started out by following a throng of people past a construction zone, which was one of many. It seemed like there were tall buildings being built everywhere I looked, with cranes, trucks and other heavy vehicles swinging and driving all over. Next, I made my way down a street with several thin trees growing from places on the sidewalk. It seemed like a very nice place to live, in all honesty.

It was the middle of the afternoon when I got to her apartment. I phoned her, and she came out to let me in. The main stairwell was wallpapered and carpeted, unlike my place, where it was just made of dirty concrete. We went past several other people's apartments until we came to our destination. The place was very clean, of course, being a girl's place and all: there was a TV hanging on the wall and a couple of couches circled around a coffee table, and May, her friend and I were all seated around it. We talked for an hour or two, though I don't remember what about. At some point, we decided to go out and get something to eat at a restaurant in the tower I went to during Then and Now 7.

Before that, though, May went to her room and pulled out a binder full of DVDs. She asked me to take a look through it, and wondered if there was anything I wanted to borrow. I thumbed through it for a bit and saw some local movies, a couple of ones I kind of knew from back home... and then, I saw it: Battlefield Earth. I had to borrow that turkey and watch it completely for the first time, and May was more than happy to let me take it.

The three of us went off to the restaurant on the second or third floor of the tower, and ate some hamburgers and hot dogs. May and I talked about the land beach from Then and Now 3 with her friend, and we highly recommended that she check it out, too. Later, we climbed up a couple of floors to go to a bookstore, and spent some time comparing the titles of books I knew in America (Harry Potter, for one) to the translations. I even got tested in my reading skill by those two, and I was a bit surprised that I could read several sentences without liberally peppering my translations with "something, something" for words I didn't know.

After that, night had set in, and it had started to rain. The three of us huddled under my umbrella, and we found ourselves outside in the darkness, waiting for a bus to take us all home. When one finally came, we all boarded, and off we went on a peaceful trip down darkened streets, with only the streetlights and illuminated shops to light our way back. Both May's friend and I had long since gotten accustomed to one another, so we opened up and spent a lot more time joking around than in our first few hours together. When we reached the place where I would be taking the subway back to my city, May opened up a bag that she had been carrying the entire time, and pulled out a piece of cardboard with a pattern of flowers and birds on one side, and a message on the other. "This is for you," she said.

I smiled like an idiot. She was giving me a birthday present, when I had barely mentioned before that the date was coming up soon. The gift was decorated from top to bottom with tiny squares of construction paper glued to the board, and a message was written letter by letter on the squares. It looked like it took a long time to make it.

I just fished it out of my memories box. It says:

Hey (my name):
Happy
Birthday
That is so
cool meet
you in (name of the hostel we stayed at)
room and
contact
till now
(Happy birthday written in the local language)
(Happy birthday written in the local language again)
Your
friend May

I barely knew this girl, and had only been out with her once or twice, but she made something so awesome for me. I had to bite my lip to keep from tearing up at the great gift she had made me. After I thanked her profusely, May, her friend and I all parted ways.

As for today...

I woke up at 11:00.
My wife went out to get lunch.
I surfed the net.
My wife came home, so I turned off the computer.
I ate lunch.
I watched TV.
I took a nap.
I woke up.
I went to work.
I taught students.
I came home.
I ate dinner.
I cleaned up the floor and table.
I folded and put away dry clothes.
I did the dishes.
I slept.

Blame and second chances

It's easy to see that if I had just married my wife and we didn't have a kid, she wouldn't be acting quite like she does today. And even if she did, and if no amount of effort from me got her to change, I could divorce her at any time and get away (relatively) scot free.

So it would also be easy to blame my son for keeping me in this marriage. But in all honesty, being with my son is a good thing; I enjoy my time with him, and I love him. If I had the choice to go back in time and stop myself from impregnating my girlfriend, I wouldn't do it, knowing that my son either wouldn't have a chance at life, or that he would be born to other parents that wouldn't take care of him as well as I do. I would throw myself on that grenade again to care for my son: he listens to me, he enjoys doing things that I enjoy doing, and he's a good kid because I'm his father, and I keep a firm eye on him at all times.

Things are different between my wife and I: when we have time together, she seldom follows my suggestions. She enjoys doing things with me, when she isn't tired or busy, which is most of the time. And she's a good woman, when she isn't nagging me or complaining. But the only reason she became the woman she is now is because marriage made our lives so busy, complicated and full of chores, errands, work, babysitting and the like, that problems just completely overshadowed our once fun relationship. Unlike the time before I got married, I have a hundred things to do every day for the sake of my family, and there's nothing I can do to improve my personal life:

If I move my wife's mother into our house to save several hundred dollars a month in old lady support payments, then I have to deal with her being in my house and bossing me around 24/7.

If I tell my mother-in-law to stop butting into my life, she dumps on my wife, my wife gets upset, then I have to fix everything.

If I hire a housekeeper to take care of the chores that wait for me every night, I won't have enough money to pay bills.

If I set aside one day of the week as a "Don't Bother Daddy" day so I can play video games all day or something, my wife will get upset that she has to take care of chores and watch our son all day, then she'll dump her nonsense on me.

Before I got married, I lived every day as an optimistic, happy man. ALL of them. There was only one time in those six months where things went so wrong that I felt angry, but I felt better in an hour because I was just that strong and self-reliant. But when I married, what once was a life of free-spirited fun and adventure became one of just trying to stay afloat through all the problems of marriage, problems that didn't even exist until my wife and I tied the knot.

I know this post might sound confusing, like I'm trying to find someone to blame for all my problems, and I can't quite put my finger on who. And I can't repeat this enough: it's none of their faults. Marriage is what turned everyone into people that they're not. In fact, the only person I blame is me, the one who should have re-evaluated his depressed boy dream to marry, the one who should have gotten a vasectomy, or at the very least the one who should have used two forms of birth control instead of one.

I wouldn't be married now if I didn't have my son. But I don't blame him, or my wife or her family. But they are the sources of my near-poverty and my dreams being ground into the dust. But they aren't to blame. It's complicated, so let me try to put this all a little more simply:

Marriage sucks. Children are a multiplier.

Just being married sucks, and a divorce can fix it in no time.

Just having children makes life multiple times more busy, fun, happy, tiring, aggravating or interesting. Whatever you're feeling is entirely dependent on how you are guiding your life, and the life of your child.

But put them together, and you have a life that sucks... multiple times over. And there's nothing you can do about it, and there's no way out.

If I were to be born again as a new man, and I had the chance to date my wife once more, I would do it. Marriage hasn't just taken my freedom, time, strength, money and dreams from me; it's stolen my girlfriend, too. The girl I dated in 2007 is not the same person as the woman I'm married to now, and it's not because she was lying to me before. It's because marriage has placed so many problems and pressures upon the both of us, that she and I are now too busy or working too hard to do the things that used to make us happy. I would date her again, to know her without all of these pointless issues that keep popping up in a married life.

Second and finally, if I were given the choice to have another kid in another life, I would find a time to do it. I'd probably wait until I was in my 40s before I went through with it, and I wouldn't help birth one; then I'd just be stuck in the same situation I'm in now. But if I had the absolute choice on when to start and whether I wanted to do it, I would definitely adopt a child or two or use a surrogate mother and be a single parent.

Raising children is a lot easier than people make it out to be. The reason people say it's so difficult is because of a contradiction that arises while being married with kids:

1. To be an excellent parent, one or both of the two people in a marriage must be in charge. Otherwise, the child will not understand where their boundaries are and will run roughshod over everyone around them.
2. To have an excellent marriage, one or both of the two married people must be a follower. Otherwise, the two spouses end up fighting all the time about marriage and child rearing decisions.

So unless I'm:

- In a marriage where my wife happily does everything I ask her to (No),
- In a marriage where I happily do everything I'm told (No),
- My dreams, goals and decisions over my own life mean absolutely nothing to me so I don't feel unhappy about giving them up (No), or
- I don't have dreams, so marriage has nothing to take from me in the first place and I can't regret giving up something I never had (No)...

... I end up in the situation that I'm in now.

Raising children is easy when you are a powerful presence in your kid's life, where they feel 95% love for the loving parent you usually are, and 5% fear for the person you become when they seriously misbehave, and I am that kind of person. Marriage is easy when you just sit back and let your partner handle all the work, make all the decisions and tell you how to live your life, and I am not that kind of person.

Now put these two things together: I'm a father who is loved, respected and looked up to by his son, but who gets nagged and ordered around by his wife like a child. I work six to seven days a week and make almost three times the amount of money that my wife does, but almost none of it goes to me personally. I've been through hell and back in my youth and have become a powerful, determined man as a result, and I use that strength to clean my apartment.

Marriage is a mess of contradictions. The greatest source of happiness I have in life is my son, but his existence keeps me miserably married. My wife was an excellent girlfriend that I always looked forward to seeing, and after we took vows to be with one another for the rest of our lives, I never again knew true happiness. I have all the strength needed, and more, to make myself happy and raise my son well, but strength is the last thing I'm allowed to use as a married man.

Marriage sucks. Children are a multiplier.

Then and Now 22 - Skate Museums

Then and Now 22 - Skate Museums
Time: Mid-2007, single and at the hostel.

I met Tina on the internet, like a lot of the other people I hung out with before I got married. Our first meeting was at the main station, and when she walked up to me, I could tell from her averted eyes and smile that she was incredibly shy. When we started to talk, and she basically just let me take command of the conversation while she listened, I knew I was right. She wasn't just shy, but almost paralyzed with fright. That wouldn't stand with me, because she had nothing to fear from the man I was, I wanted to entertain her, and I wanted to make new friends. So I decided to take her to one of the local stops I wanted to go to, which was a skate park.

We talked quite a bit on the way, and as we did, I noticed that she really liked to walk on my left. Every time we turned a corner and I switched sides, she would slow down and go back to the same side every time. I asked her what was up, and she said she just always preferred it that way. I chuckled and said, "Cool," and let her take her usual spot.

The skate park was just a little place that skaters could go to to do their ollies, flips and all that other stuff I have no idea about, but when we got there, it looked incredibly run-down. The sides of the little park where people used to grind their boards were worn down, there were dead leaves in little piles here and there, and there was even a little grass growing in cracks in the floor. I looked around at the sad little sight for a little bit, cocked my head a little to the side and furrowed my brow with a bit of a half-cocked smile. And when I looked over at Tina, I saw that she was making a similar face. "Sorry about that," I said. Tina laughed a bit and said it wasn't a problem.

Then I looked past the skate park and saw a stadium. "Let's check that out," I proclaimed, and beckoned Tina to come after me. She smiled and obliged. We went through a decently-sized tunnel and onto the outskirts of the playing field, like we were players ready to go out and entertain the crowd. Unfortunately, the stadium was closed down, and whether for the season or for good, I don't know. It looked like it was made for soccer because I didn't see any evidence of goal posts or nets for football or tennis, and it didn't seem big enough for baseball.

I was about to suggest that she and I sneak in to go check out the field for ourselves, but at that moment, I caught a distant glimpse of a local man walking the tunnels that went around the stadium. It looked like he was wearing a uniform, so I got us out of there before we got yelled at.

"Well, that kind of sucked," I said to her. "Sorry to bore you. Let's go find someplace fun to hang out!" She smiled and said ok. In truth, I thought it was kind of fun to be exploring the pseudo-ruins of this town, but I know not everyone likes to go poking around old stuff like I do. So to try and entertain my travel guest better, I took my subway map out of my pocket and unfolded it for her to see. I pointed around the general area we were in, and showed her some of the places I hadn't seen yet. It didn't take much time for her to point out a park that was in walking distance, and soon, we were off.

On the way, we walked down some pretty wide roads that ran between a small forest on one side, and the shops and houses of the town on the other. Passing by several signs, I asked her how to say "The sign says" in the local language, in case I got lost and needed to ask someone. She told me, and I spent the next few minutes reading signs like a little kid and jokingly cheering my (sincere lack of) skill. She thought it was pretty funny.

The park had several people exercising near some stairs for an outdoor auditorium, and there was a calm fountain in the middle of the park. It was a great sight, and we were surrounded by trees, clean air, and just overall quiet away from the city's traffic. Tina took us over to a tiny building off in the corner, the place she wanted to show me: it was a memorial museum for a massacre that occurred in the country's history. When I got inside, the local lady who was running the place offered me a little audio device and an earphone. I don't know if it was an MP3 player or something, but it apparently used some kind of radio signal to tell where in the museum I was, then offered a translation of the exhibit I was looking at through the earpiece. It was all pretty complicated and I wanted to let Tina tell me what things said, but I politely took the thing and pocketed it anyway.

There were some old newspaper clippings, a couple of paintings, some sculptures and several other pieces of art and history detailing the event. I listened in interest to Tina telling me of how the massacre started over something trivial, and ended up with many deaths. After about an hour, we left the little museum, and I thanked her for showing me a little of her country's history. "Definitely a lot more interesting and important than that dumb skate park," I said. She smiled.

We took a little walk around the park, and talked about her studies at college, my time at the hostel, our personal plans for the future, and other small talk. She was still pretty shy so it was kind of hard to pull stuff out of her, but it was still a very relaxing time. After a bit, we found ourselves by a pond with another fountain in the middle. There were a few fish in the water, and there was a ring of flowers running the length of this beautiful little scene. Across the pond was a group of students from a local high school, no doubt there on some kind of field trip. I asked Tina if they were heading to the museum we had just visited, but she said no and pointed to another museum, a very large building a little off in the distance. "Wanna see it?" I asked with a smile on my face. She grinned slightly and quietly nodded.

It was a museum detailing the history of the indigenous people of this country, and contained all manner of artifacts. There were old tools, spearheads, reconstructed tribal wear, and even a few movies running on projectors showing descendants of the old peoples doing traditional activities in modern times. I didn't know anything about these people until that day, and I was very happy to know more about my new country.

Later, Tina and I went out and headed in some random direction to find something to do before she had to go home. We ended up wandering into a little market sandwiched between two very wide streets. It was so small that the shops were facing only a few feet away from one another, with only a little path between them to get through. People were bumping into one another left and right, to the point where I felt more like a pinball than a shopper. Tina and I didn't get anything from this little market, because she wanted to go get a sandwich from Subway instead. So we walked a few blocks over to one, had some sandwiches and a nice conversation, then I took her back to the main station to go home.

All of this comprised about three hours of time. I don't remember who I met up with next that day, maybe Nell or someone else, but this peaceful, exploratory time was just a small fraction of one day in the life of an unmarried man.

As for today...

I woke up at 5:00.
I played video games.
My wife and son woke up, so I turned off the computer.
I watched TV.
I ate lunch.
I took a nap.
I woke up.
I watched TV.
I took a nap.
I woke up.
I went to work.
I taught students.
I came home.
I started a load of laundry.
I ate dinner.
I cleaned up the floor and table.
I hung up wet laundry.
I watched internet movies with my son.
He fell asleep.
I played video games.
I slept.

Then and Now 21 - Man Time

Then and Now 21 - Man Time
Time: Mid-2007, at my bud's aunt's place.

When my two lost weeks had gone by, and my bud and I had stopped putting it off, we realized that it was time to start looking for work. He was definitely in the better position at that point, because if he found a job, he'd work for a while before going back to America. If he couldn't, our trip would be a vacation before he found a job back in the States. I, on the other hand, had come here to live and be my new self, so I had a lot more riding on our exploits here than he. I guess that explains why I got a really geeky haircut by buzzing my hair down to length 3 on all sides before I came here. Even worse, I brought a buttoned, long sleeve shirt and slacks for any future job interviews. My bud, of course, had only his jeans and T-shirts.

Our responsibilities were split right down the middle: my bud would find us work near his aunt's house, and if it didn't work out, I would find housing for us when we moved to the main city. And a few weeks after we both got here, he got wind of a job opening teaching kids a little bit across town. That evening, he and I dressed up and headed out to the job interview, and we took a taxi up there to be on time. Halfway there, he smirked and said, "I hope you remember the streets we've been turning on, because we're walking back." I snickered and half-heartedly started following landmarks so we could return on foot.

When we got there, we had plenty of time to spare, and there was still a little daylight to burn. So, my bud and I took a walk in a local park and did a little people watching. It was oddly decorated with some strange art pieces: there were several of them, and they were all a jumble of geometric shapes, curved bars and just random chaos. Some were fenced off, too, I guess to keep kids from running into the parts that were sticking out. After a few minutes, we headed to the place where we might have new jobs and a steady source of income.

Inside the little school, a local woman who spoke excellent English welcomed us in, and gave us a brief tour. I found the place oddly constructed: the classrooms seemed quite cramped, and every wall, except the one farthest away from the school's entrance, were made completely of either glass or plastic, allowing a full view into the rooms. It almost seemed like they were all zoo exhibits.

The boss called over one of the other foreign teachers to say hello. He was middle-aged, pudgy and bald, and his greeting was odd: he tried his best not to make eye contact with either me or my bud, and spoke mostly under his breath. At the time, I didn't have the experience of rude foreigners from when I was at the hostel and my apartment later. Later on, I got quite used to foreign men who looked at me with contempt or fear (I was competition for the jobs and women they wanted, and I was better than them), so in hindsight, this greeting was nothing special.

What surprised me was that after Then and Now 2, and even looking as geeky as I did, I had made such progress with my personal confidence that I actually had the first man, ever, to look at me unhappily as he compared himself to me. But I still felt bad for the guy, because I knew he was making an effort to say hello, but he just couldn't bring himself to do it. So I thrust my hand out to shake his, and after my bud and I said our hellos to him, he left quickly.

A second foreign teacher came up and introduced himself, a taller guy with nice hair and a sharp nose. He was much more enthusiastic than the first guy, and greeted my bud and I heartily. He took over as tour guide and brought us to the classrooms, toy boxes and other stuff we needed to know if we taught there. Finally, when everything was done, the boss gave us her card, and my bud and I left to go home. On the way back, my bud told me that the pay was terrible compared to what we could do in the big city, and that we should probably just relax until it was time to move there. I trusted his judgement, and we continued on back to his aunt's place.

When we got back, the door to our room on the third floor was open, and the light was on. We walked in, and there was my bud's uncle, who I hadn't met until that moment. In just a muscle shirt and shorts, he quietly waved hello, and signalled for my bud and I to take a seat next to him. The TV was on, and he was watching baseball. I'm more of a baseball player than a baseball watcher, but I still happily had a seat next to my bud to check out the game. It was a very relaxing time, and I started to understand the appeal of baseball, when I used to see it as just a series of pop flies, caught outs, strikes, balls and commercials: it's about hanging with your friends and theirs, and enjoying a time of quiet excitement that can erupt at any time into cheers or jeers at an excellent hit or mistake.

After a short while, my bud's uncle saw a man come up to bat. In the local language, which I actually understood for once, he said, "Black people are really strong, aren't they?" I smiled nervously and exchanged glances with my bud, not knowing what to say. He and I laughed about it later, though. A little later, my bud's uncle left us, and my bud and I played some Guitar Hero before we went to bed.

As for today...

I woke up at 9:00 to my son throwing up on the bed.
I watched him while my wife got a load of laundry started.
We went to the doctor's office, then we went home.
My wife went to her mom's house.
I played cars with my son.
I surfed the net.
I took my son to the arcade and bought my wife a doll, then we went home.
I hung up wet laundry.
I ate lunch.
I played cars with my son.
He threw a screaming tantrum, so I lectured him.
I played video games.
My wife woke up and went to work.
My son woke up and threw another screaming tantrum, so I yelled at him.
I went to work.
I taught students.
I came home.
I cooked and ate dinner.
I did the dishes.
I cleaned up the floor and table.
I hung up wet laundry again.
I played video games.
I slept.

Then and Now 20 - Old Town

Then and Now 20 - Old Town
Time: Late 2007, single and at my apartment.

This is a fragmented memory of my unmarried days, and I have no idea what brought me to this place. My memories of this trip start sort of suddenly, and no matter how many times I turn around the day in my mind, I still can't pinpoint why it was that I came. Though I can't say for certain, it's probably self-explanatory that my memories of the foreigner section of town started at a food store.

This was the place where I picked up refried beans to cook burritos at my apartment. Ever since my mom had sent me a tortilla maker and beans in the mail, I had eaten Mexican for several nights at my apartment, and cooked burritos for many friends, neighbors in my apartment complex, and even my young students. But because of my obsession with a little home cooking, I was quickly running out of beans. I think I came to this place because I heard of a store in the foreigner section of town where they sold stuff from North America, and I was coming to see if they had anything I knew.

The store was a little hole in the wall, independent convenience store. In the center of it sat an enclosed freezer that held several different kinds of foods, and there were shelves that ran around the entire place with even more things to eat on them. Not only did they have beans and large tortillas, but they had boxed cereal, peanut butter & chocolate candy, and other things from America that I hadn't eaten in quite a while. It was quite a nostalgic moment for me.

As I was looking around the place and checking out the Frosted Flakes, Vlasic pickles and (yes!) Rosarita bean cans, a middle-aged, balding foreigner walked in with a local woman. He was talking to her about something involving school or classes, and though he seemed to be trying to impress her, she looked somewhat disinterested. I said hello to the man. He locked eyes with me for a fraction of a second, then he brushed past me, not pausing his speech in the slightest to respond. I was pretty used to that kind of behavior from other foreigners by then, so I just left without another word; I had found my beans.

While I was up in this area, I decided to keep going in the direction that the bus was headed when it brought me there, just to look around a bit. I didn't actually know that this was the foreigner section of town until I started to walk up the streets there. But after a while, I really started to notice a lot of them walking past me down the street. I saw an older gentleman standing in a dance studio and talking to a local woman, a few standing in line at a bank, and a couple getting on and off buses on the road beside me. I said hello where I could, and the smallest fraction of the foreigners answered back. The rest of them quickly jogged away or pretended not to hear me. I felt a bit smug, knowing how self-conscious these chubby, bald old men felt around the confident, handsome young guy who just wanted to say hello.

The first stop I got to was a massive park. It was shaped like an outdoor sports stadium with stair-seats in a semi-circle on the far end. In front of the stair-seats were a bunch of foreigners, their local wives, and a ton of kids just running around with balls and dogs all over the place. One of the kids blasted a ball straight towards the road behind me, so I ran after it to make sure it didn't go into traffic. He looked nervous as I scooped it up, but after I launched it back to him, he smiled and waved.

I left not long after, and went up the road to an odd entrance of sorts. The road descended from a humble mountain before me, and went around in a circle around a miniature grassy median. On either side of where the road went up into the mountains were two tall office buildings, standing tall and firm like the legs of the Colossus of Rhodes. It was a great sight, so I decided to go up and see what I could see. The road was on an incline going up the little mountain, and there were trees running down a median in the center. When I started up it, the skies were getting kind of dark, and one by one, the lights of numerous shops lining the streets in front of me began to light up.

Most of the other shopping centers I had been to were filled with clothes and food, and not much else. They were still exciting to visit, of course, because every store had its own unique music, bosses, products, layout and so on. But here, the shops were something else. Here at the end of the foreigner section of town, this place felt like old town did back in America: there were many classically shaped stores, all selling beautiful, traditional art pieces, detailed statues, crystal sculptures and pottery, that all lent an air of tradition and history to the area. Some of them had art pieces that were strewn about the store in piles here and there, while others had lines and lines of shelves that held them in place. Either way, I snapped a lot of pictures of the many things that I saw up there. It was a warm, peaceful night of walking all the way up that little mountain, seeing every shop from the outside and admiring the beauty within them.

I had little luck talking with other foreigners on the way back down, so I just went back to the food store to get a dozen or two cans of beans. Then, I made my way back to the bus stop, took it to the subway, headed back to my city and went home to watch TV and sleep.

As for today...

I woke up at 9:00.
I watched TV.
I went out with my wife and son to get lunch, then I took my son to the arcade, then we went home.
I read to my son.
I watched internet movies with him.
I watched TV.
He fell asleep.
I went to work.
I taught students.
I came home.
I watched internet movies with my son.
I surfed the net.
I cleaned up the floor and table.
I folded and put away dry clothes.
I watched internet movies with my son.
I slept.

Then and Now 19 - Hookah

Then and Now 19 - Hookah
Time: Mid-2007, single and at the hostel.

I wandered around the main city for hours, seeing strangers, window shopping, and following bus routes on foot to get the lay of the land. I was pretty beat when I got back to the hostel that night. I had just crashed on my bed, eyes heavy, when a familiar voice called out, "Hey!" It was Ken, wondering if I wanted to go hang with him, Harry and Vicki at a hookah bar. I shook the cobwebs out of my head and agreed immediately. The two of us went outside to catch a late night bus, and in no time, we were at our destination.

All four of us met up in a cozy suburban alley between two normal looking houses. The lights were off in both of them, but there were streetlights that provided more than enough light to look around. After a bunch of hellos, hugs and handshakes, we all went down some stairs that led to the basement of one of the houses. Inside, we were in a dark room that was occupied by a number of locals. Everything was very calm there, though there was an undercurrent of hushed excitement, and a sweet smell in the air. The four of us took a seat, and Harry told us that the last time he had come to this place, he had toked from an incredibly smooth hookah, and that he wanted to get the same one again. The only problem was that he didn't know the word for "base" in the local language to ask for the "hookah with the wide base" to get it again.

Coincidentally enough, that was one of several hundred "simple" words I had memorized in the previous few weeks. I told him the word, the whole table cheered, and soon enough, a local girl came up to us and asked us what we wanted. Harry told her about the special pipe, and off she went to bring it to us. In the meantime, we had a conversation about race, or more specifically, which combinations of race and gender were considered the most attractive to the world's population. It was only discussing other people's perceptions on the issue, not our own, so it wasn't that serious.

When the hookah showed up, I started to have an even better time. I had only ever smoked cigarettes and a single cigar in my entire life, so when I took my first toke of that thing, I was absolutely amazed by how smooth the hit was. The taste was shockingly sweet and good, the smoke didn't burn at all, and it tasted even better on the way out. It was, literally, the best smoke I've ever had in my life. I must have been making a mild "O" face at that point, because everyone at the table snickered and congratulated me on my obvious first toke of a hookah pipe.

From then on, it was a relaxing night of hit after hit, topic after topic. Harry told us all about an excellent banking job he had lined up for himself in America. Vicky told us about some missionary work she was doing for the locals. Ken and I joked about our trip to the beach, about me getting tossed into the water, and how everyone except me had been attacked by jellyfish. We also discussed whether we would date any of the local girls. Ken said that if it happened, it happened, and he didn't award or take away points for where a girl came from. I felt the same: a woman's heart was the most important to me, and her birthplace was just an interesting point. After a while, we all split the bill, then headed back up outside to go home.

Ken and I took a taxi back to the hostel, and on the way there, he got into a conversation with the driver. Thanks to Ken's polite questions and inquisitive mind, I learned the local word for "seatbelt" that night. In no time, he and I were back home. We took showers, complimented the great taste of the hookah through our respective curtains, dried up, said good night, then went off to bed.

That was a real turning point of a night for me and my friends. It was the last time I ever saw Harry, because he was leaving the country pretty soon after that. Ken and Vicky ended up getting together less than 24 hours later at her apartment, and the two of them became a bit too busy to hang with me much more. As for me, I didn't let a few goodbyes slow me down, even though I was sad to see my friends leaving. I still got to see Ken and Vicky one more time, when they came by for my party in Then and Now 4 before they finally left the country for good a bit later.

That's about all I remember Ken, Harry and Vicky. If I remember any more tidbits of them, I'll be sure to put them in a future "Odds and Ends" post.

As for today...

I woke up at 11:00.
I hung up wet laundry.
I went out with my son and wife to the beach to play in the water, then we all got lunch, then we went home.
I watched TV.
I played video games.
I went to work.
I taught students.
I came home.
I ate dinner.
I cleaned up the floor and table.
I did the dishes.
I folded and put away dry clothes.
I watched internet movies with my son.
I slept.

Strength, jealousy and fear

About a week ago, I got my first traffic ticket in the mail for doing something that's completely legal in America, but not here. When I went to go pay, I opened my wallet and thumbed past nearly US$1000 waiting to be deposited in my wife's account, took a couple of bills out and took care of it.

I really didn't care. It's hard for me to get excited about having that much money, or being penalized for this or that, knowing that almost every last bill in my wallet is going to pay for some sort of family expense. That money might as well have been pocket lint.

And that got me thinking... how did it come to this? Of course it's because I got married, but how did so many things go so wrong, so quickly? There had to be some kind of common thread running through all the things I gave up to take care of my family. My freedom, my time, my money... all that stuff left at the same time, so they had to be connected somehow. And slowly but surely, I finally understood what it was that I gave up that bound all of these things together: it was my strength.

What is freedom, if not the ability to choose your path in life, work hard for what you want, and deal with the consequences through your own strength? In addition, money is power, time is untapped potential to express yourself, and adventure, dating and charity also require indomitable will. When I married, I gave up my strength so I could protect and care for those close to me.

I compromise because my wife and I, while similar in many respects, are different people. To do what I want would mean forcing her to do things she doesn't want to do, things which aren't possible with family life anyway. And even traveling a bit a week or hanging with a friend or two makes no difference, because no amount of anything ever returns my old life to me. I sacrifice because my son needs me to be there for him, and to do what I want would mean spending little time with him. I don't want to give up power over my life and my dreams, but I must.

It wasn't always like this. Back in my unmarried days, I was a true man: I took charge, was a leader, experienced new things, cultivated charisma and maintained a powerful attitude of perseverance. I went out and tried new things, and did what I wanted to do. More importantly, though, I combined being a confident beast with honor during my unmarried time. I did what I wanted, but I also stepped on no toes and hurt no person as I enjoyed my life.

Now, for the sake of my family, I have become a workhorse loser by suppressing that part of me who follows his dreams, and letting go of my ability to choose my own path in life. I have returned to the life coasting, order following, goalless complacent boy I used to be. So now, because I'm left without the ability to pursue my goals, or even have much of a say in what I do with my everyday life, an old, shameful feeling has bubbled to the surface once more.

Jealousy walked with me every day of my depressed time, and largely manifested as my stomach feeling like it was tied in knots when I saw other people enjoying what I wanted. I never felt it after I went abroad and those two lost weeks went by. Yes, I saw men with things I wanted, but I never felt like taking anything from them. I never considered another man's property, experiences or relationships anything more than inspiration for me to work harder and better my own life.

As a married man, though, I find myself in the same position as I was in my depressed time. For example, I still see foreigners every day. Four years ago, they would have been potential friends. Now, they're just constant reminders of what I gave up, and will never again have, in my life. They have the power to go out and enjoy life when they want; I don't. They have the power to change and become whoever they want to be; I don't. Every time I see other men out with their beautiful, smiling girlfriends, riding around town with their friends, drinking at a bar, or just hear them telling stories of the great weekend they just had, I feel like someone just punched me in the gut. I can't stop thinking about how I used to be these guys, and I can't forget that I'm never going to experience that young, free, powerful kind of life again.

Similarly, when I was in my depressed years, I hated Alphas and anything like them: CEOs, the police, the rich, America, guys with girlfriends, if they had strength, I hated them. It wasn't just people who abused their power that I hated, either: it was anybody stronger than I was. When I walked by men with beautiful girlfriends, I seethed. Who is this pop-collared loser with that hot girl? I would think. I deserve her more than he does!

When I finished working on myself and had acquired the same strength that I once decried those other people for having, I realized how much of a loser that I used to be. It wasn't those people in positions of power that I hated; it was my own self that I loathed, and I was externalizing my fears, failures and laziness onto people more successful than I.

But now, nothing I do can improve my life. And those thoughts I had about frat boys with girlfriends in college? Now they come to me regarding foreign men here, who have hot girlfriends, make lots of money and have fun, and all the while not even making a token effort to experience the local culture or learn the local language, and instead spend their time bar hopping, clubbing, going to the beach, eating at McDonald's and drinking at Starbucks... the same things they did back home. I don't know what's more striking: the similarity between my current thoughts about other foreigners and my old thoughts about frat boys, or how self-destructive and useless these thoughts are in the first place. I fight these thoughts every day, and I would change my life to keep them from coming in the first place, but I'm married. All I can do now is struggle to keep them from taking root.

And all of this is connected to my video game addiction. How could I go from playing video games twelve hours a day as a depressed boy, to playing them a few hours a day abroad, to having them boxed up and ready to sell because I felt I didn't need them anymore, to the man I am today? The one who hoards games and plays them by the dozens every year? The answer, again, is strength. I have limited power over everything in my life: money, work, sex, chores, time... and everything requires at least some kind of approval of my capricious wife. But compare this to before I got married, where I answered to nobody but my boss, who paid me for my time, and my honor.

Video games are the last shred of power I have over my married life. Yes, they're not real, and yes, I realize that. But without them, I would have no control over any part of my life, no matter how illusory. I save the lives of imaginary people and explore imaginary worlds not because I believe they exist in an alternate dimension or anything, but because when I play video games, I can forget for just an hour or two a day that I have no power over anything else. What was once a surrogate parent became a hobby, then an obsession, then something I no longer needed, and finally came back to filling a void in my life.

Truthfully, if there's one "benefit" I've received from losing all of my strength to marriage, it's that I no longer have any fear. Aside from serious things happening to my family, like assault, rape, a car accident, kidnapping, drugs, murder or something similar, I don't really care. My entire life feels like a derivative, unsurprising, (barely) interactive movie that just keeps going on and on. After nearly four years of this, very few things even feel real.

My boss is yelling at me for something stupid. So? My wife and mother-in-law don't do it as much now, but it's been a week since either of them popped, so one of them is due to go off any day now.

I won some money in the lottery. So? It's not like I'm going to spend it on anything but rent and bills.

I have more useless work training to go through. So? I wasn't doing anything fun at home.

Only 5797 days to go, and I'm free. So? By then I'll be in my late fourties, and life's pretty much over then anyway. And I'll still be married, which means my wife may end up too unhealthy or uninterested to follow me on my travels around the world, so I'll probably just end up buying a house with her and waiting around in it for a decade or three to die.

I had a good trip with my family today. Great, but we're heading back home now, work is two hours away, I have chores waiting for me tonight, I'm going to wake up tomorrow to more sitting around and staring at the wall, and somebody's probably going to pop before I go to work again.

Before I got married, people begged me to take jobs that I applied for. Strangers approached me every day wanting to get to know me. Friends (including my wife) literally apologized to me for the slightest mistake, because they didn't want to risk losing me as a friend. I helped others through my words, my money and my work. I was thanked, trusted and honored in return for my efforts, but even when I received nothing, it didn't matter to me. I helped people where I could because I wanted to, and when my work was done, I was off to do something adventurous to make myself even happier. And all of this was possible because I was an amazing, powerful human being who tempered that strength with honor.

Now, people walk by me without a second glance. Nobody needlessly apologizes to me; they expect apologies of me. Nobody cleans up my messes or buys me gifts out of the blue; they get those things from me. All I do is work, sacrifice and compromise. People still make use of my efforts, but not only is my work usually not rewarded (or even recognized), but I don't have that personal strength to go off and do something I want to do to balance it all out. My life is a cycle of working for others and sitting around, with my desires forever pushed back or outright shut down by the needs of my family.

The vast bulk of my life is a wash, and it doesn't matter if good or bad things happen to me. Whether I solve a problem in my life or not, whether I get this or that monkey off of my back or not, things will just keep decaying or outright falling apart, and I'll spend the rest of my life cleaning up other people's messes. I won't be going back to the man I was, no matter what I do, and no matter how hard I try. And all of this is because I gave up all of my strength when I married.

Then and Now 18 - An Empty Stop

Then and Now 18 - An Empty Stop
Time: Late 2007, single and at my apartment.

One day off from work, I decided to go out into town and see something that wasn't on my subway map. I don't remember where the stop was, but it's to be expected because I just picked a random place to go to, one that clearly had no touristy places labeled next to or around it. I knew something had to be there, and I was going to find out what... so after I got dressed and spiked my hair, I took a quick bus to the subway station to see what I could see that day.

When the subway car reached my destination, I got off and started to walk in a random direction. I chose to walk down an alleyway that was barely wide enough to accomodate a single car going in one direction, and checked to make sure that I wouldn't get hit by anybody going to or from the subway station.

The alley was lined on both sides with short apartment buildings. Laundry hung outside to dry here and there, some of the locals' doors were open to let the heat out and a breeze in, and I even saw a few people watching TV inside their cozy places. I passed by an older lady, and though she gave me a bit of a stare as I passed, I just half-grinned at her and kept on my way. I walked for a while down this alleyway and past several dozen more tiny apartment complexes, and when they were all behind me, my journey continued down a non-descript road filled with zooming cars. It was a peaceful walk, and though there wasn't much to see, I was still satisfied that I could cross this stop off my list, and turn around to go back to the subway station to see one of the last few things that was labeled on my map.

But at that moment, off in the distance, I saw a two-story temple erupting out from behind a gas station in front of me. I figured I might as well head over to see what was what before I headed back. It was beautifully decorated, and for a temple of its massive size, it was almost completely deserted. There were a few locals here and there praying, but for the most part, I was almost completely alone. I wandered around quietly so as not to disturb my spiritual neighbors, then went up a flight of stairs that led around the back part of the temple. From up there, I could see that I was pretty close to the ocean, and I saw a beautiful sight that some other buildings had obscured before: there was a biking and jogging trail that cut between the lapping waves of the ocean, and the thick grasses of a forested plain that waved in the breeze. Having seen the beauty of the temple, I decided it was time to go natural and see the trail.

But as I was leaving the temple, I heard a familiar music beat. It had been a while since I had heard this song, but once I had followed it to its source and it was loud enough, I placed it immediately: it was "The Man with the Machine Gun" from the soundtrack for Final Fantasy 8, my favorite video game of all time. I snickered and wondered why they'd be playing this song at a temple of all places. The song was coming from an arm of the temple, way off to the side, so I walked over to it and peeked in.

The arm was a long and tall, but quite narrow, hallway that led back into the internals of the temple. The song was being piped in through a PA system above me, and on both sides of this narrow arm were several centerpieces featuring elaborately designed scenes, where intricately carved dolls and puppets were positioned. From where I had come in to where the path led out, I saw that it showed the history of the country. Some of the pieces showed dolls fishing, others showed how the locals dealt with historic invaders and subsequent occupation, and the last one showed the country as it is today: a mix of old traditions and new culture and experiences. It was quite an amazing scene, something I never expected to accidentally stumble upon. When I had finished looking around, I left the temple and headed to the nature trail.

There were several locals going up and down on bikes and on foot. With the temple behind me, to my right was the boundless, rolling ocean and several boats sailing upon it. To my left was a huge, absolutely massive field of tall grass, and a forest that semi-circled its way far, far behind it. I could see where the buildings that I had walked by before were originally blocking my view of this place, just to the side of the forest. As I walked down this peaceful trail with locals all around me, the ocean sent gust after gust of relaxing wind past me and through the grass. It was serene.

The trail continued for about thirty minutes until I was skirting the forest itself. Eventually, I reached a T-intersection where the trail went straight towards some old houses, and left towards a massive canal. Amid the trees, I saw a couple of old, but cozy-looking, house-farms, and outside the one at the little intersection was a young local boy, who was drawing some pictures in the dirt. He looked up at me with mild surprise, then told me that I had to go left to get back to the subway station. I thanked him and moved on.

So at this point, the sun was starting to set, and I was feeling a bit beat. I followed the edge of the forest for a very brief time until I found myself at the canal that I saw earlier. I walked along the left side, casting occasional glances to the right and into the ditch, and to the left at some more house-farms.

The house-farms were amazingly beautiful. They were between me and the setting sun behind them, and the water where locals had planted submerged crops reflected the sun's rays as glittering cyclones of orange and red. I passed several farms, and every time I drew next to them, the sunlight found another way to cast lazy shadows over the buildings, or come off of the water to meet my eye. The canal was interesting, too. It was mostly dry and empty, but in some places there were tiny pools of water where trapped fish were desperately swimming around. Around those little pools were local fishermen, relishing the easy catches that these fish had made of themselves, and pulling them out to clean and sell at the market later. I admired their resourcefulness.

It wasn't long before I had walked all of the way back to the subway station. I was still pretty far from the stop that would take me home, so I decided to see just one more thing before I got there. On my map, there was very little left for me to see of the main city (that was labeled, at least). But one of those things was a sports stadium, and it was on the way home, so when the car pulled up to its stop, I got off and took a walk to go see it. I didn't know what I was expecting to see. I didn't know if there was anybody playing that day, what sport they would be playing, or even if I had the interest to go to a game. When I rounded several corners around brightly lit local shops with flasing signs advertising their varied wares, I finally found myself face to face with the stadium. And... it was closed.

I shook my head with a slight smile. Oh, no! I thought to myself. It's not going to end this way. So I just kept walking, looking for something amazing to end the trip with a bang. The roads around the stadium were huge, several lanes wide and covered in towering trees. It was night by then, and the streetlights seemed hardly enough to illuminate much more than a small circle of grass around them. It was eerie, and the perfect atmosphere for the final stop of my trip: an art museum.

The place had just closed up, and one by one, the lights were going out in the windows. I rushed over as fast as I could to go see what I could see, which turned out to not be much: the lobby was one of the last places to shut down, and I saw a marble statue of a woman and a beautiful landscape painting before it, too, went dark. When the entire building was swallowed up by the night, it was then that I noticed some spotlights at the corners pointing up at the top of the museum. I smiled and nodded my head in amazement; it looked like an unassailable fortress.

I checked my subway map and noticed that this museum was also on my list of things to see, but I didn't cross it or the stadium off the list. After all, I had barely seen either of them, so I couldn't very well say that I had the full stadium or museum experience. Shortly after, I was on the train heading home to a comfortable bed.

That was one of, if not the, last time I ever traveled as an unmarried man before my wife broke the news of her pregnancy. My old subway map is still in my memories box, and that stadium and museum still haven't been checked off. Maybe when my son is old enough, he and my wife are interested, my wife and I are both not working, the weather's not too bad and I have some money, I'll get to see them.

As for today...

I woke up at 10:30.
I played cars with my son.
I watched TV.
I went out for job training.
I came home.
I surfed the net.
I hung up wet laundry.
I went to work.
I taught students.
I ate dinner.
I came home.
I took my son to eat at McDonald's, then we went home.
I watched TV.
I hung up wet laundry again.
I cleaned up the floor and table.
I did the dishes.
I started a load of laundry.
I watched internet movies with my son.
He fell asleep.
I hung up wet laundry yet again.
I played video games.
I slept.

Then and Now 17 - The Two Who Saved My Life

Then and Now 17 - The Two Who Saved My Life
Time: Mid-2007, at my bud's aunt's place, and single at the hostel.

I'll start this Then and Now a bit farther down.

First, even though this has little to do with marriage, I can't let what my best friend has done for me go unsaid. Were it not for him, I would never have had my time as an awesome, unmarried man. Back in my high school days, two really serious things went down in my life. In both of those times, I was a very, very short decision away from running away from home and probably ending up dead on the streets. Even the members of my family that weren't the source of my pain weren't enough to keep me from making that decision. I wasn't all that close to anybody in my family until I was in college, and in my depressed, teenaged mind, they would all have been better off without me.

It was my best friend that kept me from throwing it all away. It wasn't just the fun times we had together, or the talks we had about life, or the unspoken support he offered me while I was still in America. He was my inspiration, my hero, even. All those things I mentioned about myself before I got married (in my Freedom post) were things that I was inspired to by my best friend: the charisma, the humor, the cool exterior, the passionate inside, they were all things I learned from him. He was those things, and I wanted to be him. Just knowing that there was hope, however slim, that I could come out of my depressed days and get to where he was in life, kept me from making that decision to run.

My best friend was the first person to save my life. He kept me alive and living a life of hope, even in my darkest moments. I'm eternally in his debt for what he has done for me. And because of him, I met the second person who saved my life, this time in college.

It wasn't a magical process for me to eradicate my depression. I tried so many things to get better: prayer, positive thinking, leaving school, magic, talking with people about my problems, complaining, ignoring my issues, asking girls on dates... but nothing worked. It was at that time that a girl, Leena, came into my life, and turned everything around. I didn't know her that well at first; she was just an acquaintance of my apartmentmate. We talked a bit, and I thought she was cute, but I didn't bother getting to know her at first. But as she started coming around more and more, I felt less scared around her. And after a time, I started to lust after her. I thought she could be the girl who I not only slept with for the first time, but the girl who could fix my life for me. And yet, no matter how many times that fat, hairy, boring loser I was asked her out, she always said no. Go figure.

It was my 21st birthday when it happened. I was on my way to work at a cafeteria on campus, and at the suicidal bottom of one of my depression waves that usually lasted for several hours before returning me to a steady unhappiness and unease. And out of nowhere, there she was. In this entire city-sized campus, she just happened to meet me right there. She saw that I wasn't looking happy, and asked if I was ok. I don't know why, but I just spilled my guts right there: my family, my depression, everything.

Then she asked me a simple question. It was a question that broke through my exterior, sliced right through me and drove itself right into my soul. I would never be the same after she put it to me:

"Do you want to get better?"

The world spun. I was in absolute shock, and thoughts raced through my mind in a fraction of a second. Did I want to stop blaming others for my problems? Did I want to take charge of my own life? Did I want to change the person I was, and become someone completely different? Would I take that responsibility on my shoulders, and stop coasting through life with a comfortable pain over an uncertain future?

And without further hesitation, I answered, "Yes."

No "if you'll go on a date with me." No "but I don't want to spend ten years doing it." No conditions, no negativity, just a simple, straight answer.

That question focused my mind on fixing myself more than anything before. No longer would I be content to blame my family, or self-diagnosed illnesses that I didn't have, for ruining my life. It was all on me from then on. Within the next year, I dug down deep within my heart and found all the reasons I was depressed. I focused all of my thinking away from depression or anger, and instead on confidence and forward-looking. I forgave or forgot everyone in my life that hurt me, and slowly formed my goal to be an honorable, married man (that second goal would later ruin me), and never again stopped fighting for my happiness. It took me a week to stop feeling suicidal, a month for the worst of my depression to leave, three months for the bulk of it to be gone, and a year to destroy every last trace of it. And just five months after I made that pledge to Leena, I started dating my first girlfriend.

After things fell through with my first and we mutually broke it off, I started working minimum wage jobs to support myself while I tried to find my goal in life. I knew who I wanted to be, but not what I wanted to do. I already mentioned before that my good bud got me to travel with him to this country, and that was what helped me to formulate my goal of going abroad and experiencing life. But to tell the truth, it wasn't just him. Leena is originally from this country, and I wasn't just going abroad to become a new man and live my new dream. That was the biggest reason, of course, but the other was that she moved back to this country just as my good bud asked me to travel with him. I wanted to be with her, so I came to see her.

I started getting back into contact with Leena while I was still at my bud's aunt's place. We set up a time to meet through email, and Leena invited me and my bud to see one of the heads of her church, Daniel. I met and talked with him a lot in America, and I had no idea he lived so close to my bud's aunt. So after I got the time all set up for us to meet, only a day or two went by before Leena and Daniel came to pick up my bud and I and take us to a vegetarian restaurant.

And there she was, this amazing, beautiful, friendly, smart and funny girl that I had pined for for several years. I could barely contain my excitement while Daniel took all of us to eat, but I spent a lot of my time in the car and at the restaurant talking and playing with Daniel's little son, who had looked up to me as a big brother for several years in America.

When we got to the restaurant, I ate one little piece of everything in the shop, because there were just so many choices. Leena taught me how to say, "I ate one of everything" in the local language while I was at it. Daniel even came to my aid when I was showing off my up and coming skill at the local language. At one point, I said the word for "hotel" that I learned from the dictionary, then my bud started to bust my balls about how it was the wrong word. Daniel then took on the stern old uncle personality and told my bud that I was entirely correct, because I was talking about a certain kind of hotel. My bud smirked and shrugged his shoulders in surrender, and I beamed with pride.

We talked and ate for about an hour before Daniel took us all home. And it was only a little bit after I moved to the hostel that I was able to set up a time for Leena and I to meet up again. A quick subway ride after I got her email, I saw the inimitable, intelligent beauty that was Leena once again. I think I blushed a bit there, but I kept my feelings in check. She took me past a bunch of shops to her friend's house, where we all ate lunch together. I told jokes, shared stories of my experiences in her country, listened as they shared their religious beliefs with me, practiced my language skills, and played some games with their kids. Leena took me back to the subway about an hour later, and we met up with another of her friends and his family a few days later. It was much the same fun experience as my time with her first friend's family, but I scared these people's little girl on accident while I was playing ball with her.

On yet another day, Leena took me on a trip up into the mountains to have a picnic with her and her friends. We all met up at the foot of the mountain and chatted for a bit, then loaded up in separate cars and drove up winding roads looking over amazing views of the forests and city below. When we neared the top, we all got out and took a healthy hike up for the rest of the trip. It was a hot day, and the road was covered in dirt from the mountains above. We also saw some wild, homeless dogs sleeping to the side.

The picnic area was a very comfortable spot shaded by trees and at the foot of a very mild hill. It also had a communal barbecue grill for anyone to cook in. We ate so much food up there that I thought I would explode. Leena and I ate with a dozen of her friends, and families from all over the city. Everyone spoke in English that day out of respect for me and my ok skills, but I tried to converse in the local language when I could. I talked with Leena a lot, too, while we sat around in some trees. I knew she came back to take care of her sick father, so I listened as she simply (and humbly) just told me about the long hours at her job. When the day ended, we all went back down the mountain. But instead of going back to the hostel by myself, I went to an independent supermarket to pick up something healthy for Leena's dad. I got a box of Special K, because I wasn't sure if he could take vitamins or something stronger.

I delivered this gift to her at our final meeting together, when I went to her church to meet more of her friends. We talked a lot about life and the importance of helping others with her friends, and when I got Leena by herself, we discussed her parents, dreams and work, and also how much I had grown. After dinner, and meeting the head of her church (a nice old guy with a lot of stories to tell), Leena took me back outside to walk me to the subway station. And it was there that I made my move.

I asked her if she wanted to go to dinner with me sometime. She asked, "As a date?" so I said yes. She got quiet for a bit, then said that she had to think about it, because she was so busy working and taking care of her father. I held out the optimistic thought that she actually meant what she said, but truth be told, I've heard the "I'm not all that into you, but I don't know how to let you down without hurting you" response enough times to know that that's what I was getting.

Still, I didn't let her response get me down. Two days later, I woke up in the hostel with the morning sun settled just behind some high rises far to the east, and in my hand was my cellphone. Since some time had passed, I thought Leena had had enough time to think, so I was going to call her and get her final response. I dialed, pressed the phone to my ear, and was ready to date her.

But as I looked out the window and on the city from that high floor, I was overcome by a sense of smallness, wonder and adventure. Cars were going up and down roads cutting between huge buildings, people were on the streets and ready to live another day, and here I was to experience it all.

"Hello?" Leena said.

I smiled, still looking outside. "Hey, Leena!" I replied. "Listen, I'm sorry for putting you on the spot that night. I know you're really busy taking care of your father and working so hard, and I shouldn't have bugged you about a date."

"Oh!" she responded in surprise.

"Yep. Don't worry about what I said," I replied, "just concentrate on your family for now. That's the most important thing."

"Ok, thanks a lot!" she said back. "I will."

"No problem. Gotta go, you stay cool and let me know if you need anything," I said.

"Ok, goodbye!" she replied.

I let her go. We had two different paths to follow in life, and while hers took her down the road of support for her family, I had a world to explore. Looking out of that window, I knew that life was an adventure, and the only person who could see me through to experience it was myself. That's what the two people who saved my life taught me.

As for today...

I woke up at 12:00.
My wife took our son to his grandma's house.
I played video games.
My wife and son came home, so I turned off the game.
I ate lunch.
I took my son to the arcade, then we went home.
I watched internet movies with him.
I went to work.
I taught students.
I came home.
I roughhoused with my son.
I watched internet movies with him.
I surfed the net.
I cleaned up the floor and table.
I folded and put away dry clothes.
I watched internet movies with my son.
He fell asleep.
I played video games.
I slept.

Then and Now 16 - To the City

Then and Now 16 - To the City
Time: Mid-2007, at my bud's aunt's place.

This Then and Now will be a little odd. First, it takes place over three days, so I'm going to compare it to three days in my married life. It also shows me in the middle of my adjustment and unhappy time while I was abroad, because this set of experiences predates Then and Now 2 by a few days. Finally, it may seem a bit jumpy or incomplete at points because I was still not terribly happy with my new life (I was wasting it, after all), so my memory gets hazy here and there.

One day, while wasting another fine day abroad in my bud's aunt's place playing PSP, my bud's aunt came in and started talking in the local language with her nephew. When she was finished, she left, and my bud translated for me. He said that his father and sister were in town, they were going to head to the city, and they wanted us to come, too. My bud's aunt was also tired of seeing the two of us sitting around her house and doing nothing, and wanted us to get out and do something for once.

I initially protested. I asked my bud if he could tell his aunt and uncle that I'd rather save some money and stay put for the time being. I promised I would be quiet and not bother anybody, and that I would take care of my own food. My bud, to his eternal credit and my current appreciation, absolutely refused. Not only did he see how much of a lazy loser I was being, but he didn't want to bother his aunt with a request so selfish and weird (a foreign guy staying alone with an older local lady). I got silent, my way of showing that I accepted his terms, but wasn't happy about it.

The day passed quickly, with me just sitting around doing nothing with my bud, and we went to sleep. When we woke up, I no longer felt unhappy about going with everyone, but I did feel like the trip wouldn't compare to killing monsters in Spectral Souls. I prepared myself for boredom.

My bud and I packed up a few days' worth of clothes in our suitcases, then his father flagged down a taxi to take us to the train station. We got there with plenty of time to spare, so my bud and I went outside on the second floor to look at the city. I think this was the first moment that I got a good look at the city proper. The only other times I had been up this high was during the plane ride, where I couldn't see squat, and the third floor of my bud's aunt's place, where every window faced the wall of another building. Up there, I was able to see a lot of the city all at once. I didn't really appreciate the view back then, but I still remember the look of the discolored, towering buildings shading many hundreds of people walking about below, and a sky full of puffy clouds above us. My bud was smoking out there, and I decided to join him before the train showed up.

I don't remember much of anything about the train trip, other than that it was very, very long, being from one side of the country to the other and all. I guess having my PSP really helped pass the time. The only thing I remember was that when the train had come to a stop, one of the locals said, "PSP!" as he walked by, then scurried out the door. I put it away, embarrassed.

The first thing my bud, his father and sister and I did was head to the main train/bus/subway station to get us three younger travelers a quick access subway card, because we were going to be doing a lot of traveling there. Before I knew it, we were at the stop where our hotel was. We came out on the second floor of a two story train station that looked out over it, and it was a very nice place: there were trees lining the path leading up into it, and there was a little lake with ducks and fish outside. My bud and I went to our room, your typical, cozy hotel quarters. We locked up our stuff, and I left my PSP behind.

It was getting dark then. We met up with his sister and went to a nearby market where people were shopping and enjoying the night air. It felt strange, like no matter where I went, people were doing nothing but shopping, and that there was nothing more interesting to life. But I decided not to let first impressions get me down, and tried to enjoy myself. Soon enough, I was having fun walking around with the other two, checking out the wares of the shops and picking up a few snacks to eat. I was feeling better about our little trip across the country little by little. The trip culminated with me going to a souvenir shop and buying a little pencil topper shaped like Squall Leonhart, and I still have it in my memories box. After the three of us went home and slept, I decided to keep giving it my best and enjoy the trip we were having.

The next day, we went to an underground mall to go shopping. I bought a little alarm clock in the shape of a pig, and it played several songs. One rousing ditty is still firmly in my memory, because I used it to wake myself up nearly every morning for work while I was at my apartment. We walked for a bit until we came to a very big, enclosed hall. Behind us was the path leading back to the subway, and ahead was a long and winding road that led past hundreds of shops on its way to another subway stop, in case people wanted to walk to their destination and shop on the way. The ceiling was a good hundred feet tall, and there were fountains and plants all around for a very aesthetic touch.

Near a couple of those fountains, there were several groups of teenagers and young adults dancing to music. I asked my bud what they were doing, and he said they were practicing for a competition. I said I was going to walk up to one of the groups and ask to dance with them just for fun, but luckily, my bud stopped me before I made a fool of myself and said that they were too busy to entertain a guest. We watched them for a while before moving on to window shop a bit.

Later, we all went to a beautiful shopping spot by the ocean. It was my first time there, and I was in awe of the ocean sitting right below and next to a busy street with zooming cars going left and right. Every part of the ocean I had ever been to in America was at least a thousand feet from the nearest road. I had a lot more fun at the outdoor market over there than the one from the day before, while the three of us all walked up narrow alleys with tons of shops on either side.

The first place my bud and I got stuck on was a gag shop filled with tons of sexual stuff. Toys, cards, posters, DVDs, it was glutted from wall to wall with some hilariously tasteless stuff. The best thing we saw, and joked about for weeks to come, was a picture of a woman having sex with a giant bee. My bud, his sister and I then took a little boat ride around the ocean for about thirty minutes. We had to wear these geeky life jackets while we were out there, I guess because a lot of the people in this country don't know how to swim. It was a relaxing little trip, and I dipped my hand into the water and caught an old cup that was just floating around in the water while we were sailing, just for fun.

We went back to shore, then after walking around for a while, we met up with my bud's father and more of his family, and we all went to a restaurant to get some seafood near the beach. I don't really like seafood, so I munched on a lot of veggies and bread and drank a lot of soda. But when I caught people looking at me, I popped some of the nasty things in my mouth. Everyone talked in the local language, and I hadn't started my studies yet, so I just politely listened. My bud tried to engage me at points to keep me from feeling too left out, though, and we talked about old times, Guitar Hero and a few other unrelated topics.

When dinner was done, we all went to my bud's other aunt's house to gear up for another trip. We all talked in a mix of English and the local language, and everyone was very patient with me and my poor skills. When the topic of their broken computer came up, I was told it was because their cat had chewed the mouse's cord beyond repair. I quipped, "So the cat killed the mouse?" It wasn't that funny, but everyone laughed for quite a while. Before we headed out to see another part of the city, I changed a lot of my American money with my bud's aunt to the local currency, all for top dollar and no fees. I think, in hindsight, that that move helped me to eat for the month I was in the red after I got my first job. Our last stop was another market, but nothing really spectacular happened here, except eating some delicious food and walking around.

We went home, slept, and woke up to go travel around a bit more. My bud, his sister and I walked around the little pond, discussing the ducks, her plan to move abroad with her boyfriend, tons of little things like that. I was still a bit shy back then, so I mostly listened. After that, my bud's uncle took us all to a restaurant in a department store to get lunch. The greeter welcomed us warmly, and we headed up a few floors to get our bites to eat. There wasn't much to say about the experience except that the food was excellent, my bud's uncle's English was excellent and he spoke happily with everyone, and there was a spectacular view of a park through a very wide, clear window behind me.

A bit later, we all took a bus to the beach. It was a very long ride that took us through wide roads winding around many, many mountains. There were little TVs in the bus, and I entertained myself by trying to figure out what everyone was saying and doing on the talk show we were watching. The beach was fantastic. When we got there, my bud and I split off from his sister and father, and we took a little walk around a miniature garden that led up to a gazebo overlooking the ocean. We stood there, talking about old times, our current experiences in the country, and what we were going to do about housing when we inevitably had to leave his aunt's house. The ocean was as amazing as ever.

After that, the two of us met up with his family inside of a medium-sized, glass-windowed building where my bud's father or uncle apparently had friends. I say this because we were all allowed up to the VIP break room a couple of floors up, where my bud and I severely abused the free coffee and crackers they had out for employees. We ate and talked for a while, then when it started to get on in the afternoon, we took another bus back to the hotel.

Our final excursion for this trip was heading to another seafood restaurant. The bus ride over there was pretty exciting. First, we traveled through the extremely busy downtown area, and I was a bit nervous that the bus driver would hit someone. All the drivers were being very aggressive, including ours, but we still made it in one piece. We passed a lot of little shrines dotting a grassy mountain to our side just before we arrived, too. On the way into the restaurant, I noticed some guy in a car smash over someone's motorcycle. I stared in shock as he just got out, picked it up, then drove off without leaving a note. Ass.

The restaurant itself was a nice little place filled with neon signs advertising all sorts of drinks. There was a little fridge to take out bottled soda (I hadn't drunk anything but canned in ages), and the buffet was packed with all kinds of fish. I took a couple to be nice again, but mostly filled up on salad, candy and drinks. Then everyone talked in the local language, my bud came to my rescue again, and that was about it. That was my trip; we headed back to my bud's aunt's place shortly after.

Maybe it was this trip that got me ready to start living in Then and Now 2, who knows. But one thing is certain: those few days where I was pulled away from my video games, under duress, to have fun, were a lot more entertaining and fulfilling than any day I've lived in the last several years.

As for the last three days of my life...

Day 1
I woke up at 10:30.
I talked with my wife.
I went back to sleep.
I woke up again at 12:30.
I went out for job training.
I came home.
I ate lunch.
I went to work.
I taught students.
I came home.
I roughhoused with my son.
I did the dishes.
I cleaned up the floor and table.
I watched internet movies with my son.
He fell asleep.
I folded and put away dry clothes.
I played video games.
I slept.

Day 2
I woke up at 9:00.
I went to work.
I taught students.
I went out to tutor a student.
I came home to an empty house.
I played video games.
My wife and son came home.
I ate dinner.
I played video games.
I hung up wet laundry.
I took my wife and son to the arcade, then we went to the bank, then we went home.
I talked with my wife.
I played cars with my son.
I did the dishes.
I cleaned up the floor and table.
I watched internet movies with my son.
He fell asleep.
I played video games.
I slept.

Day 3
I woke up at 10:30.
I went out to tutor students.
I came home.
I watched internet movies with my son.
I ate dinner.
I watched DVDs with my wife.
I watched internet movies with my son.
I went out to tutor a student.
I came home.
I did the dishes.
I folded and put away dry clothes.
I hung up wet laundry.
I cleaned up the floor and table.
I played video games.
I slept.