Sede Vacante

The light is on but no one is home.

Archive for Vietnam

95 days


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As of today, I’ve been away from home for 95 days.  It’s only special simply because before today  the longest I’ve been away from my beautiful islands is 94 days.  This was in Vietnam last year.

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Airports suck more at 1am


I’m at the airport, again. But this time at the ungodly hour of midnight, waiting for my crap 1am flight with Cebu Pacific.

I was hungry and knowing that they don’t actually feed you in these budget flights, I got myself a sandwich at the airport concessionaire. It was a dry, cold ham and cheese sandwich. It was crap, which wasn’t a big problem except the bastards charged me 7 dollars for it. Godammit, this is Vietnam. I can get my pipes cleaned for that kind of money. And the little old lady manning the counter didn’t even have the courtesy to give me a reach-over.

Grr… we were supposed to board at 1230pm.  But hey, the plane just arrived, which means its delayed by at least 30 minutes again.

Sigh.

There are no windmills in Vietnam


So why VN?  Hahah… it’s business. Or in my case, pride. I’m not stuck here because of a sense of duty or a desire to keep my job. I really do want to see this company fly. Failure blows, and so long as there is someone willing to keep trying, I’m staying. It’s just sad that we made so many mistakes along the way with these guys.

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The third day is over…


Other than a not-so unexpected weight gain of about a kilo over the weekend, things are quite manageable as far as the nicotine withdrawal goes.  Physically, other than an upset stomach over the weekend, there really wasn’t much drama to it.  What’s more difficult is breaking the sheer habit of lighting up, and not having something to do when you’ve got nothing to do.

If you watched Trainspotting, psychologically, I’m right about at the part where the dead baby starts crawling on the ceiling….

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A few beautiful days


The past few weeks have been utterly miserable for me.  I won’t get into the details of why; suffice to say that I’m definitely not happy with what is going on.  I feel broken and incomplete, and altogether disgusted with everything.

Just as things got almost unbearable, I got a few beautiful days.  Like a lover teasing me mercilessly, she gave me a kiss right before I lost my mind.

Anyway, a few photos of my beautiful days on the next page.

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Quitting smoking… yet again


In about two hours, I’m going to quit smoking.  Again.  I’ve done it before a few years back and stayed clean for more than 4 years.  But then again, since I’m smoking again (more than a pack a day since I landed in Vietnam), I guess it’s fair to say I’ve never really successfully quit.

I’ve got it all figured out.  I’m going to have to find something to replace this horrid habit.  I think I’ll use masturbation.  Every time I feel like having a smoke, I’ll just go right ahead and wank off.  That’s the ticket.

I smoke about 30 cigarettes a day at the moment.  I have a cigarette the moment I wake up, and before I go to bed; before, after, and during a meal, while I use the toilet, while I use my xbox, while I use my phone; while I work during the day, and while I relax at night; while I listen to music, and while I watch TV.

I’m never getting out of the door in the morning, am I?

Cigarettes I couldn't finish off before midnight...

Cigarettes I couldn't finish off before midnight...

Comfort is Opium


This is the best quarterpounder in the world.

I’ve been in Vietnam for 76 days now. It’s the longest I’ve ever been away from home and hearth.  It would have been ok if I were stuck in Tokyo or Amsterdam.  Sadly, despite all my efforts, I’ve realized that I’m irrevocably too westernized for my own good.

As I’ve said in a previous post, the problem with Ho Chi Minh (Saigon) is that it’s too much like Manila; in terms of the pollution, the noise, and the way things look like in general.  That means there’s very little novelty to living here other than the occasional trip to a pagoda or a temple (of which I’ve done enough to last me a lifetime).

And sadly, it’s not even enough like Manila (or any other western city) to lull me into a distracting level of comfort.  There are no real malls, there are no McDonald’s, no Starbucks.  And whatever elements of the west you CAN find (some cool bars and clubs), are so chock full of the “wrong” kinds of white folks and snooty nouveau-rich that it’s difficult to just have a good time.

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