It is time to google 'addiction'....

Today was my Aunt Tanya’s Birthday. Yes, I called. Yes, I sang. Yes, I went with her to Ikea for her $1 birthday breakfast. Let me tell you, I am one generous nephew. Gotta love those thrifty Swedes.

 

   

As we were sitting at breakfast on wonderful Swedish furniture, the names of which I could not pronounce (what the heck is an ektorp or farfelnoodle?), the birthday conversation between Aunt Tanya, my friend Erin and myself naturally lead to a discussion of Tina Turner and whale anatomy.




Now for all of you Tina fans out there that want to go all Ike on my ass, I say simmer down. We in no way compared the incomparable Miss Turner to a whale, they just happened to be in the same stream of consciousness at breakfast… hey, what can I say? We hadn’t had our coffee yet.

Anywho, Aunt Tanya said that Miss Turner was about her age… I said NO WAY, while Erin was pondering whether or not Whales had bones or simply cartilage like sharks. I had an answer for both of them… Google it!

I heart google. I have to say that I am addicted to google. I have no idea what I would do without google. I am the type of guy that has to know things, just for the sake of knowing them. If someone poses a mildly interesting question that nobody can answer I can’t wait to go home and google it. I even go as far as to carry a notebook around with me at all times which is called “blog this, google that”. I am a man replete with useless trivia, and, as such, have become a hit at parties (thanks google!..but it could also be because I can bend my big toes all the way back… a man needs party tricks too).



With google, everything you could possibly need is at your fingertips. Need to know the Leader of Uzbekistan? Google it. Need to know how to spell Uzbekistan? Google it. Need a picture of said leader in Uzbekistan? Google it. They even have a wicked tab - google images - when you are only looking for photos or pictures... I use it all the time for this blog.

I googled both questions that arose at breakfast upon returning home.
As it turns out, Aunt Tanya, of course, was right. Not only is Ms. Turner the same age as my aunt, but they have the exact same birthday! Today! (For fear of my life, I will not say what that age is… but suffice it to say, both ladies look SPECTACULAR for their age). So happy birthday Aunt Tanya and Ms. Turner. I hope your big wheels keep on turnin’ for a long, long time.

Now, according to Dr. Galapagos, thanks to google, I now know that whales DO in fact have bones. I mean, I thought they did, but now I am 100% sure. Hmph. Interesting.

People wonder what they did before cell phones; I wonder what I did before google. I mean, how else would I have instantly found out that Ketchup originated in China, that flammable and inflammable mean EXACTLY the same thing (serious! Google it people!), that the F bomb comes from the police dept and ‘File Under Carnal Knowledge’, that Erinaceous means ‘like a hedgehog’ (sorry Erin…), that Nudiustertian is the day before yesterday, that IKEA was founded in 1943 - The name is made up from the initials of the founder, Ingvar Kamprad and the first letters of the farm Elmtaryd and the village Agunnaryd in rural southern Sweden where he grew up. Ingvar Kamprad was just 17 when he registered the IKEA name. And yes, google even proved to me that Janet and Michael Jackson are, in fact, two entirely different people.


So when you are unsure, don’t just sluff it off and forget… find the answer you are looking for…. GOOGLE IT!

My own semi-permanent laminated list...

In her post dated Wednesday, November 5th, my wickedly funny, ruthlessly honest friend, Miss Leigh Naturkach discussed her semi-permanent laminated list of fake boyfriends (a link to her blog is posted on the right of this page).  Now, my post today actually has nothing to do with said topic, but on a recent outing on the subway, her post kept popping into my head.  

As I was riding on the subway last week, I looked around, people watching (my favourite activity) and then my eyes saw it.  I couldn't believe it and spent the next 6 stops transfixed on this hideous monstrosity.  It was what I like to call 'the train wreck effect' - you know you should be repulsed and avert your eyes, yet somehow you just can't bring yourself to look away... a compulsion to stare overwhelms your entire being.  A man, let's call him Rico, Rico Suave, for the sake of this blog, was wearing one of the most atrociously obvious toupees I have ever seen!  As I got to thinking, I realized that I had seen several bad toupees over the course of the last week. A plague had surreptitiously taken over our fair city under my very nose.  You know the toupees I am talking about, the ones that don't match the person's natural hair colour, or those that are obviously on backwards...

I sat there, slack-jawed and dumbfounded. How did this man not know that toupees weren't cool.  Especially bad ones. Did he not get the memo?  Bald is in.  Think of it as hardwood - nobody is doing carpet anymore!  If you want to hold onto your youth, try investing in some funky running shoes, or drinking diet pepsi - the ads say it works.  This is where Leigh's blog kept popping into my head.  I am officially sending out my own semi-permanent laminated list of things that are not acceptable practices in the year 2008.   Semi-permanent because I reserve the right to add to/change the list as I see fit.  Bad toupees are number one on my list.  Here are the rest of the offenders....

2. Mustaches - Now, I have nothing against facial hair in the least - quite frankly, I am jealous of anyone that can grow a beard as all I can muster is a bad 14 year-old's goatee - but on the whole, I have to say, mustaches alone on the face are just creepy.  Face it.  If you are sporting a mustache and no other facial hair you are 1 of 2 things.  1.  You are a 70's porn actor or 2. you are lurking in someone's bushes somewhere (if you get my drift).  Creepy. Don't do it.

3. Socks with Sandals... WTF people?  How, and for the love of god, why, are people still committing this offense?  I am going to let the pictures speak for themselves.... 

Ok - so one word comes to mind.... boobs - all of them.

4. The Mullet.  I know it tried to resurface a couple of years back under the name 'the brazilian' or something equally as ridiculous. Still not cool.  Business in the front, party in the back is never a good look.....NEVER. 

This picture brings me to my next NEVER GOOD.... 5. The Speedo.  As far as I am concerned speedos should only be handed out on the deck of an Olympic swimming event, and are to be collected IMMEDIATELY following said event.

6. The comb-over and 7. his cousin, the bald-long....  As for the comb over... come on guys... you ain't foolin' nobody....as a side note: Have you seen yourselves in a wind storm? 

The bald-long is just as bad.  Just because you are thinning on top, does not mean that you have to prove to people that you can, in fact, grow hair.  You are no less of a man without hair.  I do give you props mr. bald-long however, for not going the way of your backwoods cousin and attempting the comb-over.  Points for that.  But, with the bald-long, quite frankly, one would fully expect you to be crouching beside mustache wearing man in the bushes....hate to break it to you... 

Now, perhaps it is just me that has a morbid fascination with all of these things, but I feel I speak for a majority of people when I send out this semi-permanent laminated list to my fellow men out there.  Please read the memo.  We are just trying to help a brother out. 

Looking back at my list I realize that it is very 'hair-centric'.  Perhaps this is because, yes, I too am thinning on top and will one day no doubt be sporting 'the monk look' as I call it (hair all round, bald in the middle).  I vow to go bald with pride and class.  The key to balding gracefully is keeping the hair short and clean cut.  It is much sexier really.... and if I do have a hard time coming to terms with my hair loss, I will just tell people that I am not losing my hair, I am simply, over the course of years, slowly converting to Judaism.

Yup... I said it... shame on me....

I couldn’t believe the words as they spewed forth from my mouth. I was shocked, and yes, appalled…yet there was nothing I could do to stop them. Looking back, I don’t even know how or when I learned such perverse, nonsensical drivel. My indoctrination was slow and complete in its nature. Each newly acquired word leading to the next.. gateway words really. I was so taken aback with what I said to the poor young man behind the counter that I bowed my head in shame, apologized and repeated it just so he could make sense of such an abomination and hopefully remove the distressed look on his face: “I would like a Double-Tall-half-sweet-non-fat-vanilla-latte-extra-hot.” Good Lord, it is painful just to write it all out and relive the madness. When did I become so crazy and demanding? Whatever happened to ordering a regular cup-a-joe? I don’t know what I was more ashamed of; the fact that I ordered a drink that sounded like something from my OAC chem exam, or the fact that I could justify every single word in that drink and why I was ordering the way I was.




For those of you lucky enough not to have a clue as to what language I am speaking, let me fill you in. This is what I have deemed ‘Starbucks-speak’ or ‘Starbuckese’. It, for me, has truly become one of the oddest cultural milieus in North America, soon to be the world. Starbucks is not only its own brand and empire, it is its own world and there are definite unique modes of comportment, etiquette, and even language associated with it.

Let me break it down now – a coffee re-mix if you will. What I actually ordered is the following: A vanilla latte with an extra shot of espresso made with non-fat milk and half of the vanilla flavouring made extra hot. Yes, I have a specific reasoning and methodology for why I do what I do, but I will get to that later. First, I feel it necessary to tell you how all this happened, seeing as my first Starbucks experience in the big city 5 years ago ended with a lecture and me ranting to a store manager that I vowed never to order from their establishment again (luckily due to semantics, I was able to never order from that particular store again, but could still order from the chain with a clear conscience).

You see here is how it all first went down… Picture it: June five years ago. It is hot and me and my girly arms are moving into my first apartment in the big city of Toronto. I am excited, half manic and half delirious from the heat and the move. I decide that I want something cold, but definitely need caffeine to keep me going. On the corner where I was living there was my tried and true Tim Horton’s facing a Starbucks. I would normally go to Tim’s, no doubt in my mind, but I was not wanting an ice cap. I wanted something different…so I decided to head into the Starbucks.

I looked at the large menu of cold-drink options and was perplexed. I thought I would wing this one. How hard could it be? I walked confidently up to the counter and asked for “a cold coffee drink….ummmm....medium…not ice cubes… something in the blender…not chocolate… I like coffee flavour… I want it cold…and something that tastes good”… remember, delirious from moving…
The man taking my order said, would you like whipped cream on that?
I said “no thank you….ummm actually, ok…. Ummm no. No. I don’t want whipped cream after all thanks”. The guy at the register rang in my order and took my money… He was fine. It was the coffee-maker-guy (or “BARISTA” as I would later be told) that I could see getting a little edgy with my order. I waited patiently enjoying the much appreciated air conditioning, when my drink was finished.
“This one is YOURS” said “THE BARISTA”
“Ok, thanks!” I said. To which he replied folding his hand prayer-like, putting them up to his mouth in complete exasperation and leaning “the weight of the world” aka his elbows on the counter…
“Sir… (big sigh, long, pregnant pause), in future, It would be beneficial to everyone involved (another pause, as if this ‘everyone’ intimated that I had offended the entire world), if you learned how to order a tall-no-whip-frappuchino.
“Are you kidding me????” I lost it and ended up with coupons for many free coffees, vowing never to use them…

But alas, I was to weak to withstand the mega-corp soul sucking establishment. Heck if they could have a store in the “Forbidden City” in Beijing China (I barfed a little in my mouth when I saw that), how was little ol’ me going to resist?

In my defense, I started drinking Starbucks out of pure necessity. It was when I was working at the bookshop – satan’s layer – and I was in teacher’s college, teaching and working 5 days a week…. I needed caffeine to stay awake and Starbucks was right in our store. I learned how to order a tall latte. Then, after being called boring, I learned how to order a tall-vanilla-latte. Then, when that was way too sweet, I learned how to order a tall-half-sweet-vanilla-latte. Then, when my optometrist told me I had obese eyes, (cholesterol deposits), I learned how to order a tall-half-sweet-vanilla-non-fat-latte. Then, when it dropped to sub-zero temperatures outside, I learned how to order a tall-half-sweet-vanilla-non-fat-latte-extra-hot… It embarrasses and pains me to say it, but the extra hot keeps it warm longer when I walk outside in the cold…. The indoctrination was complete and irreversible.  Gateway words...
I am sure that Starbuckese will appear in the OED’s next addition… heck if ‘muggle’ and ‘bootylicious’ are considered words by Oxford, what’s stopping ‘no-whip’, or ‘skinny-latte”?

It has permeated our culture and is a symbol of our times. In my defense, I do go to Tim Horton’s 9 times out of 10 and only go to Starbucks if I want a fancy, frothy, treat and I am nowhere near my fave coffee place in Toronto – Mercury Coffee on Queen East at Logan…mmmmmm – and a local business to boot!

I guess there is no real point to this blog entry. Perhaps I just needed to admit my guilt. Yes, I, at times, enjoy indulging with a Starbucks Latte and have learned to speak their language. Where once I would want to punch someone in the face and call them snob if I head them order a complicated drink at Starbucks, now I just want to punch myself in the face.

All I am saying is that coffee judgment is rampant and classist… whether you are carrying a cup from Tim’s, Starbucks, Mercury, Timothy’s or Second Cup, like it or not, you are being judged on a cultural and socio-economic level. Quick fact: do you know if you cut out your once a day Grande Latte from starbucks at work, (so five a week for 52 weeks) you would save over $1,300 in a year. It is the Starbucks Factor. Coffee is big business, and I would argue, one of driving forces that shape our cultural makeup… is that even possible? I can hardly believe what I am saying… but I think I may be right…

A Painter's Guide to Life...

Presently, I am in the process of painting out all of the wood in my bathroom. I have chosen the colour white. Why, ruin all the beautiful wood in my bathroom, you may ask?… well, you see, there were no less than 6, yes 6, different colours of wood in my bathroom alone. I have lived in my apartment for over a year and a half now, and my obsessive-compulsive love of all things uniform and symmetrical (except children, that’s just creepy), has finally trumped my astounding laziness and love of ‘the nap’. I couldn’t take it anymore.

A bathroom, in my humble opinion should be pristine and bright. This firm-held belief all goes back to my least favourite word… “moist” – bad things grow in moist places (no matter where that place may be) – think about it people. Plus, my medicine cabinet, lovingly crafted by hand (not by me) is big enough to house all of Tom Cruise’s crazy pills along with Mike Ditka’s hair products (I mean, I know he is in the business of American Football, but does he have to look like he is wearing a helmet at all times?). Anyway, basically I am saying the thing is GARGANTUAN, the goal was to make it a little less imposing…

As I was sitting on the floor of my bathroom, covered in paint, getting very creative with my combination of expletives, all of a sudden it occurred to me: Everything you need to learn about life you can learn from painting. Here are some of the better paint-fume induced pearls of wisdom I came up with:

Sometimes it is better to take advice

I have painted a hundred times before. I have always refused to use primer, viewing it as unnecessary and time consuming. Crap, just slap up the paint and be done with it. This time, however, seeing as I am waiting for my new job to start and I have time, I thought I would do things right. I was a good boy. I went down to the Paint Depot at Queen and Logan. I love them! They were so helpful. They told me what primer and paint I would need and actually took three products out of my hands and replaced them with cheaper items that would do the same thing! (Shameless plug). The paint lady told me that although it seemed a hassle, priming the wood would make things much easier in the long run… she was right!



Sometimes it is best to be man enough to take advice and admit you don’t always know everything and that your way may not necessarily be the best way. It is better in the long run to take advice when needed…. Unless it is advice from the paint department of the home depot on Wilson – they will tell you that you should paint your room “steel grey” and that it will be an awesome colour… what they fail to tell you is that “steel grey” should actually be named “purple paradise”.

This leads me into my second lesson…

The right tools make everything easier

Brandishing my Primer, paint and necessary equipment, I attacked my bathroom. Sure it was a hassle and all, but good lord that primer and extra wide painter’s tape really worked. It is, in fact, always better to prime before truly beginning. It will be faster and save you money in the end… just like priming before you go out to a bar. It makes the whole night easier and you will save money… there are so many parallels people.




Sometimes If you just walk away, you will realize it is not as bad as you thought

After I primed the wood and waited the advised 1 day to paint, I then applied the first coat – it went on beautifully and was not sucked needlessly into the wood… but it looked a little patchy as some parts dried and others were still wet.

In life, like in painting, even when things look bad after taking a first go at something, sometimes if you just walk away and leave the proverbial ‘paint to dry’, when you come back you will often see that everything worked out and it wasn’t as bad is it seemed.

In my case it still looked like crap. It needed two more coats. But I would not have known that if I did not walk away right… Isn’t another lesson try and try again? Whadda ya want? It’s not always gonna go your way.

You always need a kick-ass soundtrack

Painting aint fun. For those of you who think it is, feel free to come check out my medicine cabinet. Music however, always helps. Never hinders. My choice selection was all up beat a la The Rolling Stones and a little Sympathy for the Devil, some Prodigy, and then the Motown classics of course – heck ya, I was a pip on the midnight train with Gladys!
Point is, it kept me going. Kept my feet tapping and as I lost myself in the music I forgot how much I despised painting. Trust me, sometimes life aint fun. But if you always have a kick-ass soundtrack (and perhaps your friends singing backup), you always find a way to keep on dancin’. Hmm that would be a killer CD – the hardest one to make of course – the soundtrack to my life… What would yours be?

It all depends on Perspective

So I decided that I would not paint the underside of the MANY shelves that make up my medicine cabinet (if you can call something suitable for Shopper’s Drugmart a medicine cabinet). Let’s face it, I am short, so if I couldn’t see that they weren’t painted then nobody else would (unless I threw a cast party for ‘Little people, big world”). Also, my girly arms were tired, I had at least two more coats to do and anything to make this process shorter was welcome! I was so pleased with myself. That was a load off…Then I sat on the crapper. How things changed.  

Sitting on the crapper I realized that the underside of ALL of the shelves were visible and seeing as I am generally full of shit, this is a vantage point I would have often. I immediately painted the underside of all of the shelves.
It’s like life – it is all a matter of perspective. You will shock yourself if you take the time to approach something from a different angle. Always look at questions, situations, problems and obstacles from several angles before you settle on a course of action – you never know, Frodo and Sam may be paying you a visit some day.

You have to be flexible

I swear you have to be part circus freak to be a great painter. As I found myself contorted into ungodly positions - balancing precariously on sinks, toilets, shower curtains, lying on my back on the floor, craning my torso attempting to channel Gumby - all to make sure every bit of wood was covered, I realized, good lord – you need to be one flexible mo fo.



Same goes for life kids. If you want to get things done, sometimes you just have to be flexible.

It’s hard work, but hopefully it’s worth it in the end

Ok. I have already said it, but I will say it again. I f’n hate painting. It’s boring, a pain, and at times, it down right hurts. But I must admit, as I collapsed and sat down on my toilet once it was done, the second coat, I was proud of how it was turning out. I have one sexy bathroom in the making – complete with a gargantuan WHITE medicine cabinet,… it has made all the difference. Life’s tough, but if you put in the work and take pride in what you do, it may just be worth it in the end.  Sometimes all you need is a coat of paint and a little willpower and suddenly everything looks fresh and new.

Perhaps the biggest lesson that I really learned from all of this was that you can learn a lot while sitting on the crapper..... or, I'm just full of shit.  Take your pick.

move on, young man - there is nothing to tell here...

Ok.  I am not one to be considered the strong silent type... I generally fail miserably on both accounts - my mouth oftentimes getting me into more trouble than Dick Cheney at a hunting convention, and my girly arms...well, they speak for themselves.  Yet, since being home in Toronto, Canada (over a month and a half already!), I, John Di Tecco, for the first time in my life, have found myself at a loss for words.

I was poking around on the net this evening as I have been suffering from insomnia (it is now almost 3am actually) - and I noticed that my friend Ethan had recently posted a blog entry on his blog.  Neither Ethan, David or myself have written much since returning to our native lands, so I had to check it out.  As it turns out, one of his local staff had posted a Beijing retrospective on Youtube that summarized Ethan's Games time experience - that has not happened to, or for me - and to be honest and admit to my own guilt - I have not even corresponded with Amy, Queen or Crystal (my team) since being home.  I just can't bring myself to do it for some reason.  Just as I have been unable to blog.  Am I just trying to hold on to what is past?  Not admit to it being truly over? I am not so sure.

I am not going to apologize for not blogging - the walking cliche in me since returning from Tibet says "living for yourself is not the same as being selfish" - (something that is easily said, but up to this point, I now realize, very hard for me to do and something I am consciously working on). I will say, however, that the amount of genuine interest, if not 'firm' encouragement regarding my blog that many of you have expressed (repeatedly!) to me over the last month has been both surprising and amazing to me.  I am happy to hear that many of you enjoyed my ramblings, rantings and musings...I had not written in ages before Beijing and I had forgotten how much I enjoyed it, so thanks for coming along for the ride.

Anycrap, I digress - surprise, surprise! Back to me not blogging.  Trust me, on countless nights I have logged into my blog with the full intention of summarizing my trip, filling in any blanks in my travels or simply relating something random that popped into my head about my experience. No lie - with this crazy bout of insomnia that I am going through- I had time.  If I could hunt down obscure techno remixes of the Scooby Doo theme on limewire, could confirm that Ketchup did, in fact, originate in China as I have told so many people, as well as google what stars shared my same birthday (sadly, the most exciting being Matty and Kara - The twins of John and Kate plus 8 fame), and once again, attempted to get past the first 10 pages of Marquez's 100 Years of Solitude for the 6th, 7th, 8th, and 9th time...I had time to blog. For some reason, however, every time I tried to will my fingers to pound something out on my keyboard, I was unable to do so.  And I still can't really.

Here is why:  I have no idea how to piece together what I went through in a coherent, easy-to-follow framework - also, if I am being completely honest - another thing I am working on - some things I just don't want to share. My experience finally travelling again, the way I love to travel, and reconnecting with myself are just that, my experiences.  Experiences that I hold dear and close to me - there really is no way to explain it all away.  

I definitely love answering questions that people ask, or providing an anecdote when the occasion arises, but when a friend of mine sits me down and says: "Tell me about your trip" it is the kiss of death.  All I find myself replying is "it was amazing!"  I have thought long and hard about this as I had not been this perplexed since I was 6 and was attempting to figure out the Caramilk secret...

My time in Asia was just that, amazing - but it is done.  It is a chapter closed.  Since being home I spent my first month, partying and reconnecting with old friends - in a haze really - pretending I was 20 again and living on a beach in Cancun during perpetual spring break... but that is another story - one who's gaps and holes may never be recovered.... 

I then went to Vancouver for a long weekend and met up with friends from China - Julia, Trevor and Leslie - David (who I travelled Asia with) even came up from Chicago.  I have to admit that I was a little reticent to go at first.  I wondered if it would be like removing a scab that just healed over and pouring salt and lemon juice in it.  These were amazing people that I had an intense experience with, one that not many others would understand.  Would going back and meeting up with them outside the original context ruin everything?  Would I discover that they were all boobs?  I went anyway and I was really glad I did.  We made new memories and forged even stronger friendships - (it also helped that the weather was a balmy 20 degrees and sunny where it had plummeted below zero in Toronto!).

The last two weeks have been me organizing and purging tons of excess stuff out of my apartment.  I have accepted a full time job starting Dec 1 - (for the love of Dolly Parton it is 9 to 5!)... and the funny thing is... I have not once freaked out about it... my wandering feet want to stay put for a while.  Don't get me wrong, travelling is in my blood and I will always go off exploring...just not any time soon. Things with me are good and I may be truly happy - sure I will undoubtedly be bitching come December 7th after my first week of full time work!  

So alas, faithful reader - I fear tales of Asian adventures have come to an end... I just don't have any more in me to tell... at least not now... For fear of sounding all Jo Jo's psychic alliance on you - a new phase has begun for me and there is no looking back and getting stuck in the past.  Johnny D will trudge willingly into his uncertain future (and the first thing he will confront is his penchant for talking in the third person).  

One thing I have truly rediscovered is my love of writing and words in general.  I am a nerd people! So, I have decided to continue blogging - and I was going to start fresh - a whole new blog - but I have decided that I want my blog to just be random events and insights from my day to day life.  And since I have been home, I have discovered that we North Americans have some pretty wacked out practices ourselves!  Have I not told you about the comings and goings of the Starbucks Cartel?  Oh there is so much to talk about my friends...  We can't point the finger at other cultures such as Asia if we are not willing to turn the microscope on ourselves... so that is what I am going to do... get out my lab coat and dissect humanity... Hence, Cultural Exceptions is still a fitting title and will stay.  So check it out if you feel like it... same bat channel...stay tuned!

In the meantime, while I revamp and get material for my new Cultural Exceptions Canadian edition - if you need entertainment - turn your attention to my friend Leigh's blog... she has made me laugh and wet my pants with her musings all throughout my insomnia... so enjoy.  A link to her blog is on my blog list - or, for those of you who are rediculously and wonderfully technophobic (Aunt Tanya and Rose) - I will put the link right here... just click on it.... www.leighnats.blogspot.com

For those of you who feel slighted or ripped off because you did not get a tale of travel... tough bundados as we used to say... but I will leave you with a few pretty pics of my trip that you have not seen yet... make up your own story - hopefully you will be inspired to start a blog of your own...

   

Golden Buddhas at the top of Emai Shan Mountain

Emai Sahn Mountain... AKA WHERE MONKEYS ATTACK!!! (they are not nice people! and my new arch nemeses...you may think it beneath me to target an entirely different species, but they are now on my same level of loathing as birds!  Birds poop....

MONKEYS PEE!  Look closely, they don't get the saying "cheeky monkey" for nothing! This one tried using me for target practice but I was out of range just in time!  Evil Bastards!

We hiked this mountain for 2 days and slept in a monastery - It was grueling! That's me!  Like the CN Tower climb times 10 million - no joke 8 hours a day for 2 days... all stairs!

At a park in Leshan, China -  Couples in love and just married come there and inscribe their names on a padlock and throw away the key to symbolize their unbreakable bond... there were thousands of them... even the cynic in me found it slightly romantic.... slightly.

It's China - you wanted to see pandas

Buddhist statue in Bangkok, Thailand

Palace adornments - Bangkok, Thailand

The Palace - Bangkok, Thailand

The view of the beach and Gulf of Thailand from my beach front bungalow - time to put my feet up... Koh Samed, Thailand

This was actually taken by me, of me, at the top of our hike up the great wall - but the sweat, confusion on my face and sheer joy of accomplishment somehow reflect how I feel about this blog of my travels being done!  I accomplished what I set out to do... now onto something else...