If everyone’s wearing yellow, it must be Monday
Tuesday, October 10th, 2006I can still keep track of what number each day is because it’s the next number from the day before in my journal. Which means I can’t miss a day of writing or else I lose whatever fragile grasp I’m maintaining on a life organized in familiar ways. The name of each day, on the other hand? I’ve long since given up trying to keep track of that.
Although I have a new tool in my arsenal on that front. See, there have been a couple of days now (I’m sure it wasn’t two days in a row but beyond that, I’m unable to keep track of things like ‘how often’) when I’ve noticed that absolutely everyone is wearing these yellow polo shirts with the royal insignia on them. For once I’m not exaggerating when I say “everyone.” Literally every single person is wearing a matching shirt, like a country-wide soccer team gone amok.
Yesterday in a cafe I overheard a farang lady ask a Thai lady what was with the yellow shirts? Apparently it’s a way to show respect to the King since this is the 60th anniversary of his ascendance to the throne and he was born on a Monday and the color that corresponds to Monday is yellow…so everyone wears yellow shirts on Mondays. Makes perfect sense, right? So now whenever I see all the yellow shirts, I will know what day of the week it is. Yay!
And yes, I consider eavesdropping to be a perfectly good research method.
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Hell A
In other news: this morning I watched a half-hour long show on the making of the music video for Paris Hilton’s first single. That’s cool. I like Paris Hilton. But the crew. Hearing the director’s assistant talk about…god, I forget what he was talking about because I was too busy shuddering. It was so familiar and yet I was able to see it from the outside for the first time in years. And what I saw was that that tone that Industry people talk in about the people they’re working with or project they’re on or the one they’re prepping for or the one they have in development or the one they’re auditioning for – and you know that tone – was horrifying. In a city where ‘fake it ’til you make it’ is considered a valid way of interacting with even your nearest and dearest, something has to have gone horribly, horribly awry. All I can say is that I’d rather spend the rest of my life puking my guts out while being simultaneously annoyed by Eurotrash Disco Dude than spend one day ‘on set’ with those people.
Rant over. Now I’m going out to look for one of those yellow shirts because while I may not like fakey-positive Hollywood types, I love the King!!
sandra_101