Twas the night before Halloween… and I never did get out to the store to buy makeup. But, i think that’s fine at this point. I do have to say I’m not entering Halloween optimistically.

Historically, Halloween in San Francisco is like Mardi Gras in New Orleans, which I continually say despite having never been to the latter. but it is just a big, crazy, drunken, costumed time. The city is always at odds with Halloween here. They make sure the subway doesn’t stop at the Castro stop to discourage people from coming here. They organized a big fiasco near City Hall one year with tons of dance stages, lights, everything, so that year people went there… and then to the Castro.

This year, the Castro is the official site for Halloween, there’s even a sad website about it. But there are three slogans for this year’s festivities. Let’s break them down.

The first: No Booze. Now, I’m no alcoholic (genetics be damned), but Halloween… Castro…. no booze? Basically this means they can’t sell alcohol in the street, open containers, etc. You can still go into bars, drink, and then exit back out into the street. It seems the event is being positioned as a “family event,” sold to teen markets from all over the bay area, so they are trying to put a nice, pretty bow on the Castro for tourists. I’ve seen it tried before, and I hope they fail again tomorrow.

The second: No Bashing. I’m actually okay with this one. Seems redundant, as it is violence. I mean, the open container thing was allowed last year (or not stopped, at least). Beating people up? Didn’t know we had to spell that one out as wrong, but OK, that’s fine.

The third: No Bad Costumes. I’m a bit confused on this one. Part of me thinks it is a joke, like trying to introduce levity after mentioning violence. The other is that, since they are pimping it in the suburbs means they don’t want X-rated or tasteless costumes, which… I mean, it’s the Castro?! This isn’t the Bay Area Halloween Parade. Go somewhere else if you don’t want to see that. Hell, there will be people tomorrow whose costume is total nudity. Plus, who decides what is a bad costume? I mean, usually the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence work the gates collecting donations. Not sure a 40-year-old bearded guy dressed as a nun is qualified to make judgment calls on costumes of choice. So, for now, I’m sticking with that is what humor by committee reads like (since I’ve seen what happens when groups of people try to be funny, it always sucks). I’ll let you know what happens after tomorrow.

Now, the other thing is that they are advertising that it will be loads of fun… from 7 p.m. to midnight. Now, most years, I never even went until 10 or 11 p.m. and now, at midnight, it is supposedly going all Cinderella. They have a lot of clubs hosting official “afterparties,” and none are in the Castro. I think last year I got home at 4 a.m., got three hours sleep, and went to work 4 hours later still drunk, which I guess is bettter than being hung over. So, we’ll see what happens…

I was planning to wear my costume to work tomorrow, as well, and was supposed to go out and get additional supplies for it tonight (blonde wig, body stocking, etc.), but then I find out my employer is not having a Halloween party this year, I could barely find anyone there that is dressing up, and most people say they are “too busy.” So lame. When I started there four years ago, it was literally a place filled with cool people who were going the whole bohemian, metropolitan living, go out and see bands, wake up and do your work lifestyle. Now, post dot-com, it’s all serious. Just like the emcee said: “A mark, a yen, a buck, or a pound, a buck or a pound, a buck or a pound, is all that makes the world go around.” One more nail.

So, given that I don’t have to dress up for work now, and that it is a bit chilly in SF, I will have to wear more clothes to stay warm. And unlike the old grade school days, when your mom made you wear a coat over your costume, I will be bulking up under mine (hell, it’s meant to fit a plus-size woman, I have room in it for some heavier clothes). So, it will not be a full-on costume, more of a half-attempt (the sabbatical really tore into my costume planning window), but at least I’m not in street clothes this year. Tragic how many years I let that occur.

More reports tomorrow night, or when I sober up.

OK, just got back from the Counting Crows event, and it was rather surreal. The show was at Bimbo’s, which is a small, fun venue in North Beach. You could tell it was a different kind of gig when the drummer was out front just hanging out and talking to people on the sidewalk.

When I heard it was Bimbo’s, I figured that would be an interesting time, with the band up on the stage, etc., etc., but when I arrived, the band equipment was all set up on the main floor, with chairs set up in front of them for the audience. They even had a camera on a track between the front row and the band, and one miniature camera on a crane.

The show was being filmed for amazon.com (whatever that means exactly), and by entering the building I’ve agreed that they own the rights to my image in perpetuity. I hope they meant in connection with that concert, or else I’m screwed when I write my book. The sign just said amazon owns global rights to my image in perpetuity. Oh well…

I ended up in the front row, in front of Dan the guitarist, with center stage about 45 degrees to my right. The band was going to play 11 songs, with the setlist basically hanging everywhere so the cameramen knew what was going on. They told us that it wasn’t a concert, it was a filming, so camera would get in front of you and block your view at times, and that they would keep moving, so you would get enough chances to see things.

As we were sitting there and looking around, you kind of really got the sense it was not going to be a normal concert scene. Band members were just hanging out in the crowd, welcoming friends. Adam walked out with his Apple PowerBook (titanium), entrusting it with a crew member, then just going into the middle of the crowd and sitting down at a table with friends.

The set was all acoustic, as they only have their acoustic stuff in San Francisco now, since that is what they used at the Bridge concerts. The setlist was: Have You Seen Me Lately, Richard Manuel is Dead, Mr. Jones, Goodnight Elizabeth, Omaha, Angels of the Silences, Friend of the Devil (Grateful Dead cover), Big Yellow Taxi, American Girls, Rain King/Raining in Baltimore, Goodnight LA, A Long December.

There was a lot of waiting to get in, a lot of waiting once we were in, the band was also waiting. One funny moment was when the film crew got the band in their positions, and they were all ready to go, and then the director said, “OK, we’ll start in five minutes.” And the band all looked at one another, and Adam said “What are we supposed to do for five minutes?” He ended up going over to a stage off to the side and laying down. the band all seemed weary, and when they finally got started, Adam said “Welcome to the longest day ever,” and later he compared the day to the longest in-store appearance ever.

Another moment was when Adam said the last time they played Bimbos was the album release party for August and Everything After. He talked about Betsey, the girl he was dating at that time, and how after the show, they ended up back at her place in the Berkeley hills, and behind her house, there was a huge boulder and they were sitting on it until all hours of the night. He recounted a corny joke when he said, “I want a rock,” and she replied, “Adam, you do rock.”

The most disconcertng thing was that the guy next to me knew all the words, and I knew all the words, so we were singing the whole time, so this one camera kept coming over to us and shoving a camera in our face to take footage of us singing along.

Many times during the concert, the camera would end up between me and Adam, and when that happened, Adam would totally lock eyes with me so that he wasn’t looking into the camera, so it was almost like being front row at a Tori Amos concert, as he kept locked on me until the camera moved or he did.

The show wasn’t overly long, and afterward there was no rush to get everyone out the door. I got nearly the whole band to sign my Hard Candy CD sleeve, and Adam to sign my August, Desert Life, and Hard Candy sleeves as that was as much as I could whittle the CDs down for signage, since I love them all so much.

Adam was not in the mood to be photographed, as he said he wanted to keep everything “chill and just that we’re all just friends hanging out.” I thanked him for the years of beautiful music and amazing concerts, and he thanked me for the compliment, but I wouldn’t say we had any meaningful exchange. He really looked beat up, and ready to sleep, but he was going out with friends to his hotel bar. I know where he’s staying, what room number, everything, but it doesn’t really matter.

I thanked him for the music. He gave his all when he was onstage. And that’s really all I need from him. Just let him keep making amazing music.

OK, finally posting again… been a crazy week as far as getting back on time zone and all. It wasn’t that I couldn’t sleep or wake up, it’s that a lot of my time was spent in between, awake but indifferent, asleep but not able to sleep straight through, etc., etc.

Anyway, today, I am going to the Bridge School benefit, which is this amazing, amazing concert that I try and attend every year, as it is an all-acoustic amazing show with killer lineups.

This year, the lineup is: Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young, Willie Nelson, Pearl Jam, Counting Crows, Indigo Girls, Incubus, Wilco, Dashboard Confessional, Plus Special Guests. And on a site that tracks such things, they seculate the special guests might include Simon & Garfunkel and/or Elton John.

I was mainly stoked because of Pearl Jam and the Counting Crows. I spent the whole time in Thailand wearing the Counting Crows T-shirt as one of only three shirts for the whole trip, just LOVE them.

Yesterdat, at work, I’m reading my home e-mail and see an e-mail from the Counting Crows fan club and think, hmm, what do they want? And it says, the first 50 people to reply to this e-mail from San Francisco will get to go to an exclusive Counting Crows concert Monday at 5 p.m. and the audience will just be the 50 winners, friends of the band, and a film crew recording the show. I immediately send in an e-mail and that night, I checked back on the page and…

My name was on the list!!!

It’s still hard to believe. I mean, San Francisco isn’t the best place to be a Crows fan, because they used to live here and got their start here, so when you read about other cities it’s always about fans hanging out with the band and such, but here, even Adam the lead singer said that they have so many friends and family here (Adam’s dad is at most shows I attend here) that they never get to interact with the fans as much.

So, Monday is just going to be amazing. Aside from the whole aspect of the weekend being over at that point and all, and me being back at work, I’m almost looking forward to Monday now.

Crazy…

Deleted a few of the older ones and put the best of the mix up there. Still have half a roll on the disposable, although that is just ladyboy show, the Thai prostitute bar, and not much else.

You can see the pictures here.

Just had the longest three hours of my life. I left Thailand at 7 a.m. Saturday morning, and got into San Francisco shortly after 10 a.m. Saturday, but I swear it seemed more like 20 hours…

More thoughts, photos, etc. will appear yet. Here is a teaser. Above is me and some japanese tourists. Below, the infamous Dae, right at the point where I couldn’t stand my hair length anymore.

Oh well, here I am again writing…

It’s nearly two in the morning, and I went to a ladyboy show and to a gay bar (sort of).

The ladyboyshow is the Calypso Cabaret, which has been playing for more than 10 years to a house full of tourists (mostly straight couples), and not that I am a drag expert, but it was soooo campy for all the wrong reasons, it was well worth the price of admission ($25, very high). First of all, it is lip sync as you would expect, but they are lip syncing in a way that would never be mistaken for singing, they look like they are speaking the words being sung and trying to smile at the same time (which has to be intentional, if they are all doing it).

Plus, they had a section where people were dressed as Marilyn Monroe, but there were three Marilyns. Then Michael Jackson (I guess he counts as drag anymore), and again, three Michael Jacksons all singing “Bad,” and doing the same moves. (Again, isn’t the point that we are supposed to think this person *is* Michael and singing? Why three?), but then the Michaels and the Marilyns start dancing with each other until the three Tina Turners come out. It was too surreal.

The whole thing seemed to have no edge aside from the one performer, who seemed to get the drag aspect. He did three or four numbers and stole the show.

A lot of the time, it just seemed like a show with women who were bored, doing obvious, scripted things and not trying to sell it all. Except they were boys pretending to be women, so I guess that made it edgy? Hardly. They did pay a lot for sets and costumes, then again, they had a few hundred people there at $25 a head, so maybe not.

So, after the show, I decide to go to Patpong. As I head out of the show, a tuk tuk driver is the only one around, and he asks if I want to go to the Patpong Night Market. I say sure, figuring that will get me close enough, so we agree on a price, and I get in his tuk tuk, and before he leaves, he says Patpong is closed.

Now, Patpong is an entire neighborhood, so I am immediately skeptical. I asked why he just offered to take me to a market there if it does not exist. So, I tell him to take me there, whether it is closed or not, and if it closed, I will go home.

He starts driving, and after a block or two, he says, “You going for girl, right?”

“No.”

“Yes, you go for girl.”

He pulls over to the side of the road, and pulls out some brochures from the top of the tuk tuk,which show about 50 girls lined up, and some inset shots of some guy in a bubble bath will two girls.

“You like this, huh?”

“No, actually.”

“Yes, yes, you like girl.”

So, I decide to go with what worked so well in Chaweng with the female prostitutes.

“I like boy, no girl.” (I speak broken english a lot here, I can’t stop myself).

“Oh, you gay! We find you boy!”

“Just take me to Patpong.”

“No, no. Patpong closed. APEC.”

APEC is the global summit of world leaders that is starting next week in Bangkok. The two seem unconnected.

The tuk tuk pulls into a place called Boy Zone, according to its neon sign. Everything else in the area looks deserted and I have no clue where I am. The tuk tuk driver said he will either wait, or take me and my boy back to my hotel, with a suggestive wink or eyebrow raising.

It is rather distressing to me how much the locals want you to pay to sleep with the other locals. I think I will be reading some books on prostitution in this country when I get home, as it is baffling. My puritan perception would be that they would look down on rich westerners coming to sleep with their fellow citizens, but that is clearly not the case. All the local thais know good places where you can find locals for boyfriends or girlfriends. I’m still waiting for one to tellme I would like his sister…

Anyway, I go into boyzone, and it is surreal beyond belief.

Three boys in white bikini underwear stand on a raised platform at the far end of what seems to be a garage with a few loveseats in it, and a long bench along the length of the wall. The three boys have small circles on their briefs with numbers. On the long bench, another 14 boys sit, aged maybe 17 to 22, they wear yellow tanktops, and the same white briefs. All have numbers on them.

Every eye is on me.

I am the only customer.

It is not a gay bar as I expected. It is basically a thai boy rental service, more than anything else.

Someone dressed in different clothes comes from behind the bar, and asks if I want a drink. I say, sure, coke. And for him? My tuk tuk driver is here, too, checking things out. Umm, yeah, sure… I guess. He gets a beer. He sits in a couch perpendicular to my loveseat.

“Nice boys, eh?”

This whole thing is so strange.

The guy that works there asks if there is a boy I like. Not surprising, yes, there is one I prefer to the rest, and I have a Coke to get through, so yeah, the second one from the right on the couch.

Every so often, other boys switch off with the go-go dancers. Some taking off their shirts and dancing, the others putting theirs back on and sitting down.

The boy I pick comes to sit with me on the loveseat. He is Jonny, 20. Very cute. Butcher than I’ve been going for here, but probably only butch in context with a lot of the other boys. The manager asks if I would like to buy Johhny a drink. He wants a Coke. Sure, of course, get him a Coke.

You’ll never guess, but Jonny “likes you a lot.” Johnny starts stroking my knee, arm around me…

The Coke is half empty.

The manager guy comes over, and finally we get the details. Johnny costs 3000 baht ($75) for either two hours in the hotel upstairs, or I can take Johhny home for the same price and he can stay as long as I want. I tell him Johhny can’t come with me, my guesthouse doesn’t allow guests to go upstairs. He looks suspicious, and I tell him New Siam. He says, “Oh, yes, New Siam no allow.”

I tell him that I expected something else, like an actual gay bar, with tourists talking, people dancing, a go-go boy or two and maybe if there was something like this, maybe it just going on in one section. Not being the only customer in the place, with Johnny trying to get me to buy him, and 14 other boys watching us.

I tell him I was not expecting to buy a boy tonight, just see the gay bar scene in Bangkok before I go home to San Francisco. See how they compare. He says, he will go talk to owner, see if I can have Johhny cheaper, and he disappears outside.

The go-go boys always get much lewder when he goes outside, kind of parodying their roles, which amuses me. Johnny puts his tongue in my ear. When the door opens again, my ear is my own again, and the go-go boys dance normally.

Now I can have Johhny for 2000 baht ($50). Johhny perks up, “That is very good price. I very good. You like.”

The manager leaves again, to give me time to think, and three other boys come over to the loveseat. Some play with my hair, some say Johhny very nice. It is interesting how it isn’t competitive, I pick Johnny, that was that. So strange…

I tell Johnny I am going to go back to my room. He lights up. I have Dae flashbacks. Here we go again. No. I am going back to my room. You stay here. But why? Becuase I no want to rent boy (I’m better at breaking up with thai boys in broken english, and more practiced at this point). I go through the whole thing. Want to meet boy, like each other, no money involved, etc., etc.

One of the boys takes my picture with Johnny on the loveseat, and then says, “Don’t tell, againt the rules to take our photo unless you buy.”

Finally, I get up, Johhny gives a pout that seems sincere, or one that is sad that he is not getting money, who knows. I kiss his hand, as I try to be gentle and forthcoming with all of my prostitutes on this trip for some reason (although I don’t think Dae is one anymore, but who can tell). I guess the whole state of things here kind of saddens me. Although, they seem very matter of fact and seem to care less about it.

The manager guy says I should take Johnny, but if not, I can just pay my bar tab and leave. I say OK. Bar tab is 600 baht ($15).

“Umm, was only two Cokes and one beer.”

“Yes, all drinks 200 baht.”

I just laugh, and figure there is no way out of this. Pay him.

The tuk-tuk driver says where we go. I say Kho San Road.

“No, no, we find you boy.”

“I don’t want boy, just go to Kho Sahn Road.”

“You want to go back to your hotel?”

“No. Kho Sahn Road.”

He keeps looking around, and finally pulls over to some elderly man sitting against a closed up store. Somethingsomething Thai, somethingsomething “boy bar.”

The man points down the street and then twists his arm indicating a right turn.

“You do not know how to go to Koh Sahn Road?”

“We finding you a boy.”

“I don’t want a boy.”

“Yes, you want a boy.”

Now I know why I take taxis usually, they go where you ask.

He keeps turning in and out alleys in this area, looking for some gay bar. Finally, we are on a populated street with a lot of taxis, stopped at a light. I tell him he either has to go to Koh Sahn Road, or I will just get out without paying and get in a taxi.

“Kho Sahn Road is closed.”

“The entire street is closed?”

“Yes, closed for the night.”

“That is OK, I am staying near there. I will walk down the empty street and go home.”

“No, all closed.”

I go to step out of the tuk tuk, and he says, “OK, OK, OK, we take you home.”

Finally, he gives up his quest for the gay bar and drives with purpose. Then he stops and I have no clue where we are.

“This is not Kho Sahn Road.”

“No, this is your hotel.”

I look up and this is where he picked me up, from the ladyboy show.

“No, this is where you picked me up. I want to go to Kho Sahn Road.”

“This is where you stay, I know.”

He shuts off the tuk tuk and says his shift is over now. I show him my room key for New Siam II, but he’s not having it. “You stay here tonight.”

I owe him like 150 baht, since it was 50 to the bar, 50 to wait (especially since it was so desolate), and 50 to go home. His math is, of course, that I owe him 200 baht.

Other tuk tuk drivers start aproaching and ask where I want to go. I say Kho Sahn Road. One says 100 baht.

I give my guy 100 Baht, and say I need to use the rest of his fare (which I never would have paid in its entirety anyway) to finish the trip he promised me.

After checking on the Internet here, it does seem Thailand is doing a little prettying up for APEC, and Patpong is a casualty, a lot of the sex clubs and gay bars are shut down for a while, until all the people leave after next week. I knew APEC was happening, as I was glad I was leaving before Bush arrives (in case they try ato blow him up), not to mention there was some very important dude being escorted around the grand palace by eight guards with machine guns, asking tourists to clear the way for his photo to be taken in front of stuff. He looked to be from the Middle East and could care less about touring the palace or having his picture taken. I ask the guy traveling with him (the only one in the group without a machine gun) who he is, his eyes indicate that I don’t want to know, and he puts his finger to lips, for me not to ask again. I should have taken his picture, but didn’t.

Anyway, after my surreal ladyboy show, unsuccessful boy renting, and insane tuk tuk ride, I end up back in my neighborhood. Kho Sahn Road was quieter than usual, but still filled with people, and a few of the clubs were buzzing. But, I just walked home after another crazy night in Bangkok… laughing.

Sad, but true, I am in Bangkok again… which means the trip is nearing its end.

Two days here and then one day in planes, waiting for planes, hating being on planes, and home to SF (in a taxi, I’m sure, doubt I’ll be in the mood to do public transport).

Anyway, Koh Tao ended up being a lovely place. Day after my last post, I got a bit banged up. I went swimming to see the sharks again. This time I saw seven in a row, with the eighth and largest seeming to be about four feet long, and then one kind of following them, but not in formation with the rest. Hard to say if they were that long, as they were 15 or so feet below me, and with the goggles, I’m not sure if that makes them larger or smaller. I know it makes my feet look much bigger when I see them through the goggles.

So, I swam across our entire cove, which is quite a long stretch, and then went out and around all the big boulders that make up the cove, around to the next cove (which is actually where you do the cliff diving). By the time, I got there, my arms were a bit sore, as the second half of the journey didn’t have much as far as underwater boulders that you could stand on and rest for a bit. Finally, I get to the jumping off point, and the tide is much lower than when I jumped the previous day. And the rocks are slippery.

In order to get up onto the boulder, where I planned to just rest for a bit, then dive in and swim back, you have to get your left foot on one big rock, and then push up and land your right foot in a flattened part of a rock two feet away. (When I jumped before, all of this was underwater and not an issue.) So, I get in position, and when I swing my right leg over, my left leg slips, and well, I can’t quite say what happened, since it was fast. But I ended up on my back on the rock where my left foot was, my goggles flew back behind the rock (thankfully shallow), and I seemed to get rather banged up for such a short time, mainly my left foot (toe especially), and left knee, and a few scratches.

Now, my feet at this point were already rather shredded due to six weeks of mosquitos, wet sandal straps and dancing, sun, sand, and lots of walking, so I figure this was rather perfect timing to kill things off, the day before I was returning to Bangkok.

So, instead of swimming back, (I figured a bleeding knee and toe might be a bit too much, given the shark-infested water), I climb the rocks back to the resort. In my backpack there is a first aid kit, so I do a rudimentary patch up with iodine and band-aids, and the rest of my time at the resort was reading, writing, and relaxing, and hobbling around, I suppose.

Toe is still sore, the rest are doing OK. There are two scratches under my toe, which makes it hard to heal, as well, since my options are walking on the big cut or the minor scratches, and the scratches always win, but aren’t getting any better as a result. Today, I am out of the sandals and in socks and sneakers (for the first time in six weeks), after cleaning everything up as best I could in my hot shower (second in six weeks). I will repay my feet with a lot of Body Shop Peppermint Lotion on my return.

Only real problem with all of this is that I will not probably get another Thai massage here, as I have a few too many scrapes here or there, and as I’ve stated, they love banging you up from the knee down, but since I have done a good job of that myself, I will leave it be. Maybe.

Was supposed to meet with Jeng today, the 20 year-old Thai boy who was the bartender at the place I was at in Koh Tao (not gay), as he moved back to Bangkok to work in a bar on Koh Sahn Road, so we figured we would hang out a bit. I left (or rather had the front desk clerk at my guesthouse leave) a message for him at his home with his non-English-speaking relative who now has my phone number. He didn’t remember the name of the bar, and there are way too many here to check out, especially not knowing his shift. We’ll see what happens, maybe tomorrow.

Today is a bit of a repeat, just for the sake of photos lost at sea. Wat Pho, Reclining Buddha, Grand Palace, etc. Tonight will depend on Jeng. If I hear from him and know where to go, I will hang out with him at his bar. If not, I will go to Patpong, which is, hmm, Disneyland for Perverts? There will be go-go boy bars there, and basically a lot of, umm, shows with boys or girls you can see. No more details here, rent Priscilla: Queen of the Desert if you want to know more. But it is a big place that tourists go and a place you hear a lot of, so worth seeing, might be something I’ll only want to see once, but the one time will be today or tomorrow night.

Still debating about the flight home (I’m taking it, don’t worry), as it is at 7 a.m., which means I would have to leave the guest house at 5 a.m., so I’m teetering whether I should go to bed and wake up on 4 hours sleep (not attractive) or just stay up and head right to the plane (equally unattractive). Have to see what time things die down here and make a decision.

In other non-Thailand news, it appears I will be an uncle next summer, as my brother and his wife just got the good news. So that is a great note upon which to return home, as they wanted to have a baby.

I’m sure there will be more Thailand-related posts from me, even when I get home, summing up, etc.

On Koh Tao, and the place I’m staying has Internet access, so I figured I would drop a quick line. I have only been here six hours, after all my traveling. But it has still been an eventful day.

I am staying at liam thien bungalows in Koh Tao, where Jamey stayed the week before I arrived in Thailand. On the map, it seems like a quick drive to get here, but of course, that was not the case, of course. Basically, I sat on the back of a pickup truck, with padded benches, and no top, while the truck went through basically a single lane dirt road through the jungle. I unfortunately didn’t see the people holding up signs for this place, which would have been a free ride, so instead I overpaid for a taxi. I wonder the road will be like when we hit the beach, will there be shops, other stores, but the road dead ends into a parking space for one car, and a sign “welcome to liam thien bungalows,” basically the road ends at the place I’m staying (I’m sure there were vague turnopffs prior for small dirt roads leading elsewhere).

But it is a rather breathtaking place. Huge rocks jutting out of the ocean everywhere, and a bungalow (300 baht a night) up on stilts in the hill. A huge gekko lizard on my wall and showing no signs of leaving, hopefully it doesn’t squawk all night.

Within minutes, I was in my bathing suit and snorkeling through pretty much untouched beach. Koh Tao is basically an island that attracts divers and snorkelers, but I am, once again, in the middle of nowhere. So, I only see the people staying here.

I didn’t mention this before, but one of the thrills Jamey loved here was swimming with sharks. The staff, which are all young Thai boys, who I assume are related, who pointed where the sharks are. They said the sharks “no like people,” and I trust that is broken English indicating they don’t like eating people, as opposed to not liking people to swim near them. Jamey and other people have all been there, so I figure it’s a once in a lifetime chance. So, I head toward the sharks.

The gulf here is not for swimming, it is pure snorkeling. Sea cucumbers (or some ugly black snakelike things) dot the bottom of the sea. Huge schools of fish of every color swim right past you, around you, and could care less that you are there.

I swim a healthy distance away from the bungalows, and no sharkls are to be found. When I first inquired, a young boy who works here named Jeng, said they are only this big, and put his hands about two and a half feet apart, not very big.

Finally, swimming slowly along the floor of the gulf, I see an unmistakable sight, because your instinct is to never want to see this sight, but it is a small shark swimming right below me. It was hard finding the first one, but once you find one, there seem to be sharks in every direction. One was surfacing, and I kept switching between looking underwater and lifting my head up, wanting to see that drosal fin pushing through the top of the water, but I never saw it.

Of course, I see the dorsal, the entire length of the shark otherwise, so it doesn’t really matter. Mission completed, so I swim back to the bungalows.

Jeng told me when I arrived that there is also cliff diving, and that he was taking other guests to jump soon. He said he would show me the path to the cliffs, but the “path” ends up being huge boulders that you have to climb across, one to the other, to get to the cliff. Like most things in Thailand, everything is natural state, so there are no footholds, handrails, or anything that would be set up in Hawaii, it is just boulders, with as much space between them as nature wanted, so take a leap to the next one, or slide further down so they are closer, but then you have to climb back up on an angle. No good option of the two, really.

So, I join them belatedly. Everyone that wants to jump already has, so I am the only one who hasn’t, although I wasn’t certain I actually would. There is a 5, 7, and 9 meter jump, and the guests are assembled on the five meter one. The water is very deep here, although you can still see the coral underneath. And, although I had no intent to actually jump then, I figured the climb to get there pretty much demanded it, so after much deliberation, I jump into the air and it seems like quite a while in the air before the sea surrounds you and you paddle back to the side to climb back up. Only one jump for me, though. Today, anyway.

I will not be seeing much of Koh Tao outside this place, as it is too far and I have too little time here, so it will just be this environment for three nights and three more days.

Oh well, I’m in downtown Hat Rin now, waiting for my taxi to take me to my speed boat to Koh Tao, the final leg of the journey. I will be there for three nights, then taking the sleeper train back to Bangkok Wednesday night. I arrive in Bangkok at 6 a.m. Thursday, and fly out 7 a.m. Saturday.

Koh Tao is the most remote of the places I have stayed. Basically the further up the island chain you go, the more remote. It is something like Hawaii whereby Oahu::Maui::Kawai (sp) as Koh Samui::Koh Phagnan::Koh Tao.

I am not sure of my accommodations in Koh Tao, although the goal is to stay where Jamey did. He was there for a week before settling in on Koh Samui. He said it was an amazing place (basically falling apart, but in a good way) with rooms for 100 baht a night. We’ll see what I get.

The Sanctuary was nice, but it just seems so expensive. In the back of my mind, I know it isn’t. But comparatively, it is very high. I probably blew through $200 there in six days. Typing that, of course, it seems ridiculously cheap, but I last paid $200 for 20 nights (accomodations only) on Samui.

But I’m not leaving because of the price, but because there are three main islands in this chain, so I want to see them all. It is certainly not the most ambitious tour of Thailand you can make in 6 weeks, three islands, but it was a great time.

Anyway, I’m not sure about Koh Tao as far as whether I will be able to post anything/check e-mail. We shall see…

OK, I am somehow doomed on this trip.

Last night was the full moon party, where thousands of people take to the beach from about 9 at night until well after the sun rises in the morning. Boats come up from Koh Samui, ferries, speed boats, everything… we’ll come back to all that.

Anyway, I took a lot of pictures that we’ll assume would have been amazing encapsulations of the mood here last night.

But we will never know, as my camera was either stolen (there are a LOT of pickpockets on the beach for full moon) or it just fell out of my pocket. And, realizing you lost your camera, on a beach with 4000+ people, at about 4:30 a.m., basically, it is just lost. I mean, we (we’ll get to the “we” later as well) looked where we were sitting on the beach, but it was not to be found.

So, you will never see: pictures of Asian teens and twentysomethings juggling fire dangerously close to tourists on woven rugs spread out on the beach; the full moon up in the sky; the whole spread of the beach with its Disneyland for Drunks colored lights and colored displays up and down the beach; people painting day-glo tattoos on people for when they dance under the blacklights on many of the outdoor dance floors; some hot Asian boy dancing on a stool outside one of the bars, making it an impromptu gay section of the beach; Dae (the one from Koh Samui) who found the impromptu gay bar, danced with me and immediately started dancing with me; Dae and his friends; me and Dae dancing; me and Dae kissing; me in front of the sign saying Full Moon Party; Dae, wearing a white sarong (and nothing else but flip flops).

The last picture I remember taking was Dae with the sarong, as we were walking by the place where they sell food, and had bright lights, and I remember this camera isn’t the best for shots of people at night (like the pics of me and Jamey are a bit dodgy on the beach, hair blends into the night, etc.). So, we took that shot, used the rest room, and then maybe we danced, but ultimately we ended up sitting on the beach and resting, and when I did my pocket check, everything was there, except the camera.

So, bad camera karma in Thailand. Needless to say, I am switching to disposables for the last week. The upside, I intentionally shot off the end of the previous roll before heading to the party, so nothing prior is lost.

But the night was a fun time, the camera thing is just annoying, especially since I already lost one camera on this trip. Well, it is actually back in SF now, but for all intents and purposes, it is lost.

I started the night having an awful pizza in a restaurant here. Basically Bangkok, Koh Samui, and Koh Phagnan lure customers in by showing illegal DVDs of american movies. Many are very recent movies, some are just in theaters now (I wouldn’t know) or will be soon. Some flick called Underworld is being shown here now, and signs claim it is in the top ten in the US right now. One place was showing Once Upon A Time In Mexico last night, which wasn’t playing yet when I was home.

So, instead of looking at actual menus, since they are very similar, most people pick eating destinations based on the movie. The other day, I had an “About A Boy” lunch, and last night, I had a “SWAT” dinner. I never understood the appeal, aside from price, of buying these illegal DVDs, but after SWAT, I am hooked.

They technically showed the movie in English with English subtitles, which seems to be the case everywhere here, although I’m unsure why people want to read what they can also hear. But then I realized the person who did the subtitles couldn’t be bothered to make sure they are accurate, spelled right, or much else. They were hilarious.

One of the main characters is called Hondo, which was translated consistently as “Don’t know,” which makes a line like Hondo is one of our best men out there, to “don’t know is one of out best men out there.” In the movie, they are escorting a prisoner that speaks with a Spanish accent. Most of the time, it was apparently too thick for the guy who wrote the subtitles, as he just didn’t write anything. Actually, it seemed like there were huge gaps where he couldn’t be bothered, and when he did, he messed them up famously. I may have to buy that one.

So, after dinner, I head down to the beach, which was already transformed into an event. Some bars had large woven rugs on the beach, and “molotov cocktail” torches on the corners of the rugs made with oil, cloth, and Coke bottles.

Up and down the beach, you could buy buckets of booze, basically little sandpails with a bottle of rum, coke, and some red bull-like substance, to mix yourself. Or, down on the beach, they would serve you drinks in these buckets. But they actually filled the bucket up with ice, and mixed the drink in it, so you had maybe a liter of very strong mixed drinks to carry around in your pail.

Of course, I am in the tropics, so getting coconut rum and pineapples is a no brainer, but that doesn’t come in a bucket-size.

One of the bars in the beginning of the night was playing REM (Losing My Religion, some unplugged version), Pearl Jam (Do The Evolution), and Nirvana (Come as you are), so I thought I had found my roost for the night, but they switch DJs up frequently, so that scene eventually went techno, and later in the night it would be R&B, hip hop. Only one bar played relentless electronic music, the rest kept switching it up.

My initial thought was that the music I hated the most (the relentless electronic) would possibly be my best chance at finding some semblance of a gay scene. Of course, once everyone’s ecstasy kicked in, finding the gay scene among all the boys on sensory overload who just wanted to hug everybody made everything a bit difficult. (No E for me, I stuck with my rum).

Actually, I was shocked at the lack of drugs. Full Moon Party has a history of being a huge rave, with hallucinogenic mushroom shake stands, people openly selling ecstasy, pot, you name it, but I didn’t see any of it. The Thai police are really cracking down on that stuff lately, apparently. Of course, I saw a lot of people sharing pills with their friends, and smoking joints, so people coming to find that certainly won’t have too much trouble. People tend to be generous with their drugs, especially if you buy some from them.

Anyway, I was shocked by the lack of drugs, but then I saw one end of the beach was kind of dark, with a large space between bars, so I figured, that must be the drug area. I wanted a picture of a stand selling drugs on the beach, which, of course, had I found it, wouldn’t have mattered in the long run anyway. But apparently, the dark spot of the beach is not for drugs, it is for prostitutes.

Thai girls, well, I’m not sure if they were all girls, but they were dressed as girls kept coming up and walking arm and arm with me, and then being very clear about what they wanted to do to me for 100 baht over in the shrubs. Saying no didn’t make them give up, saying you weren’t interested and they just hang on to you, saying you like boys… they just say they can find a boy for me. One said he/she could be a boy for me, so straight boys beware here.

On the way back, there is a VERY skinny Asian boy (which is saying a lot here) standing up on a stool in front of the one bar, with something written in flourescent on his back. I initially thought he was there working for the bar, but it turns up, he is just there because he wants to be. He is obviously gay, especially after his graphic description of what he told some guy he would do with him later, but more importantly, his obvious gayness, up and above the crowd, serves as a gay beacon and a small gay dance area forms around him. Lots of drugged out queens, with groups of friends, alone, hard to say, because they all look intimate, but then when I talk to one, he says he is from Scotland and then kisses me on the cheek, so I suppose, to other people he and I know each other, too.

There is a much younger Thai boy dancing next to his friend on the stool, and he is putting away buckets of booze. Well, that’s hard to say, he keeps buying buckets, but he is drunk and generous as hell. I know several times, I would be dancing, my glass empty, and as soon as he saw that, he would run over and fill my glass up. He didn’t even seem to have a favorite drink, one time it was red, one green, one blue. Maybe he just liked different colors.

I don’t know if he had even been to Full Moon before, because he kept looking everywhere, dancing, and saying “It so crazy!” and then laughing and laughing.

But, like I said, the boy on the stool was a beacon, and after I was dancing with a group of german(?) boys, I turned around and see that Dae from the gay bar in Koh Samui has spotted me and is approaching. We’re past the small talk phase now, so he immediately kisses me.

We dance and dance, and I realize now that Tevas are great sandals, but for beach dancing, buy cheap flip flops and kick them off when you dance if you don’t want some weird sore feet the next day from wet, rubbing sandal straps.

So, Dae and his friends adopt me, although we abandon them quite a bit. We dance in probably every area, with a few double takes when people see we are both guys. But it isn’t negative. People usually take our picture, and other westerners high-five me, although the reason for that eludes me.

We finally take a break and sit on the beach together, looking at the frenzy, the boats coming in and out constantly, at the light projections the far at the far end of the beach is making on the entire mountainside with a powerful beam, at one bar that keeps lighting different shapes fires (elephants, etc.) and at fireworks that people bring with them and fire off dangerously directly above the crowd.

Dae says he wants to be my boyfriend. He says he loves me. I tell him I’m going to Koh Tao soon, then Bangkok, and then America. He says he can come with me. He says his sister married farang (westerner) and she very very happy. I wonder several times during the night, the more he talks, if he even is a prostitute. He could possibly just be some gay 22-year-old Thai boy who wants someone to take him out of Thailand. Of course, his method is working at a gay bar and adding a flourish, shall we say, to the end of his massages. He does give me a partial massage on the beach, and he was rather good.

So, it’s kind of sad, in a way. Of course, it is hard to explore a lot of this, given the language barrier. He just says, he will come to USA, I go to work, and he take care of me, and we be very happy and married. He gives me a ring to remember him in Thailand, to show we will get married, and that I will come back for him. I tell him I will take it to remember him, but that is all. I am wearing it now as I write this.

We go back to dance and one of his friends is really drunk now, and he is pleading with me, although his English is much harder to parse than Dae’s. Dae tells me he ran out of money and wants another drink, or something, anyway I give him 40 baht ($1) and he runs away. When he returns, he starts telling me a story that I can’t make heads or tails of, except that it is very serious, and then he tells me that he gets very sad, and he unwraps a handkerchief on his left wrist and there are eight or nine scars where I assume he tried to kill himself previously. But I don’t know if it because he is gay, or what. I look to Dae for help, and he is smiling, and whispers in my ear that his friend gets like that when he has had too much to drink.

His friend (Det, I think his name is, they all pick short names that are easy for farang to remember, it seems) just looks at me, pleading, like he wants me to say something, help him, who knows, maybe he wants to come to America with me, too. Don’t they know that I couldn’t bring them if I wanted? That if I marry a female prostitute in Thailand the US would accept her as my wife, but if I actually fell in love in Thailand with a boy, he would never get any recognition as a result?

Not that I am considering any of this, mind you, but it is odd being asked for something that is too soon to exist (my love for Dae, my desire to marry him) or couldn’t exist (him living in the USA).

Dae finally pulls me away, and his friends pleading eyes follow me as I leave, and I wonder what I am walking away from. I just don’t know. I would help, but I don’t really think I could, and I don’t know what he wants or needs.

We head to the beach, and dance some more, although I am beat. I don’t think I have it in me to make it past sunrise, where the crowd gets renewed energy at having been here all night, and the party has one last revival before everyone goes to bed.

We finally head back to the beach, with the gulf lapping at the shore about 10 feet from our feet, and this time, Dae sits between my legs, pulled close to me, and we both stare out at the sky, the boats, everything. We kiss every so often, and he continues telling me about the life we would have together. That he wants to come back to my bungalow and spend the night with me, that he wants to go to Bangkok with me, that he wants to spend his life with me. At times, his words are as intoxicating as all the rum I am coming down from, as they are words I like hearing, were only the context different. If I met Dae in SF and he still couldn’t speak English, but he just moved there, etc., who knows. I race through all of these thoughts, as he continually attaches to my schedule. I am clear to not tell him where I am staying, when I am going to what city, and such. I no longer think he is trying to get money out of me, I think he sees escape and freedom in me, somehow, although Thailand is notoriously gay-friendly. Of course, my western mind keeps trying to find his angle, what he is saying beyond what he is saying, which may not exist.

He says they have e-mail at the gay bar where he works and that he will write me letters every day until I return for him, to let me know how much he loves me. On the few occassions when I ask him why he wouldn’t want to stay in Thailand, he says he loves it here, he just wants to be with me. He said I could move here and be with him, too.

A slight drizzle comes down on us, and I question whether I have another 90 minutes or however long it is until the sun rises.

But I don’t want to just abandon Dae, if that is possible. I do care about him, in some odd way. He is fixated that we will be boyfriends, and married, and together. So, I finally tell him that he makes me happy, but that I need to go to America and find someone that makes me happy, and he needs to stay here and find someone that makes him happy. That when I get on the boat to my bungalow, it will be when we say goodbye.

Finally, he seems to accept what I am saying, as there is a sadness that is evident in his eyes. We kiss some more. Hug. Tightly. I kiss the back of his neck.

I tell him I need to go, that it is starting to rain and I need sleep. He doesn’t ask to come back with me anymore. He just seems sad. He helps me up, and this tender moment of sorts is abandoned when I realize the aforementioned camera has taken missing. We both dig in the sand where we were sitting, unearthing bottles that are already buried from earlier in the night. But it is a fruitless search. Having practice at this point, I accept the death of my camera, or more likely, and in keeping in Buddhist tradition, its new life reborn recently with its new owner. Someone who will have a lot of pictures of asian boys and some white guy in a orange Chuck Palahniuk T-shirt and army green cargo shorts dancing with some cute Asian boy with a great body and a white sarong with flower petals painted on it here and there.

Dae walks me to my boat, and we kiss. There are no more plans. No more talks of our life together.

We are kissing goodbye.