Sandy Does Southeast Asia

So on New Years Eve – after my resounding IT victory – I was feeling pretty damn pleased with myself. With my favorite Brit Pop MP3 mix playing in the background, I danced around the house getting ready to go out. I put on makeup and the ‘Sex Tourist’ t-shirt John sent in my Christmas package. I was ready to party.

But when I got to Caroline’s bar, it was closed. Not a good sign. I went up to the Mut Mee barbeque and there everyone was – sitting around chatting quietly while one of the Nong Khai New Agers played soft rock on an acoustic guitar. No! No no no. I wanted Scissor Sisters, not John Denver. I half-jokingly asked Caroline when the dance party was going to start at the bar. She said, “There’s not going to be a dance party. We’re having a chill New Year’s.” Chill, huh? I left, saying I would come back later but seriously, New Year’s Eve without a dance party is like coffee without caffeine.

Now if I were a very cool person or if I had at least one fun partner-in-crime, I would have gone back and tried to get the party started. As it is, I decided it wasn’t worth the effort, and anyway maybe it was better to spend New Year’s hanging out on my own instead of ending up sitting around disappointed and bored. (Which probably would have happened, considering Caroline’s summary of New Year’s celebrations: “It was shit.”)

Cut to: kick ass solo dance party at my house. I busted some fierce moves but since I was alone, you’ll just have to take my word for it. I also gave a moment of thanks for how fun my friends at home are – ‘and wherever two or more are gathered, there also a dance party shall be,’ as it says in the Bible.

At midnight, I broke the seal on a new bottle of water and poured myself a coffee mug full to toast the new year. Then I ran outside at the sound of fireworks. I only saw a few big ones through the trees but then I saw something else, something strange in the distance. It looked like a very slow moving flare. I could not for the life of me figure out what it might be. Then suddenly over the top of the monastery appeared a floating procession of translucent lamps lit from inside with flames. I stood in the middle of the street staring transfixed at the fiery little ships as they sailed far overhead and then away toward where the full moon backlit high, silent wisps of cloud.

I am really superstitious about the first things I see after midnight on New Year’s and whether they are omens of good luck or not. As I watched the lamps floating away, all at once I felt sure that it’s going to be a really good year. Maybe even better than the year I saw the midget dancing. Maybe.

We’re still three hours shy of the new year but it’s not too early to start counting my victories. Like how, at the end of a grueling 24 hour period during which I paced, cried (only once for a few minutes, I swear), and punched my fist in the air like a high school jock, I have fixed this damn laptop.

It all started yesterday evening during a perfect storm of boredom and despair when I seriously needed the distraction of a borrowed DVD and was met instead with utter defeat. Not only did the DVD not play but my computer appeared to finally get its shaky last legs kicked out from under it. Hours of hilarity ensued during which it freaked out, crashed repeatedly, and finally wouldn’t restart at all.

Try for a moment to understand how devastating it was. This computer has become my lifeline to sanity in the entertainment void that is Nong Khai, aka The Town Without Magazines. It may not have Internet or anything fancy like that but it does play CDs and MP3s. Without it, I would be left to lay on my couch and stare at the wall while listening to the rooster convention in my garden. Even more important is the fact that I’ve started writing a lot, like six or seven hours a day, and I’m totally dependent on my creative routine.

I was not about to take this lying down. This time of year being all about new leaves turned and whatnot, I was determined to succeed. 2007 is not going to be another year of accepting a bad turn of events and walking away.

Luckily, I love boys who love computers. I am drawn to them because they tend to be patient, calm and intelligent. They are logical and analytical problem solvers. Sexy! So apparently I’ve been at least half listening to my boyfriends over the years, because their words began flooding back to me. Strange phrases started to form themselves in my head – safe mode, running utilities, defragging hard drives. My two-year incarnation as A/V Tech Girl (TM) stepped in and started troubleshooting.

I’ll spare you the details and cut straight to the part when 24 sleepless hours later, my computer is not only back in action but it’s running about a million times better than when I first borrowed it. In your face, 2006!

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