It's easy enough to fall out of the habit of writing regularly in this blog, or Mass Email That Never Was, or whatever you (or I) want to call it. I had this problem before when I tried to write in a personal journal. I would only write when something went wrong, so reading through it years later makes my life sound morose and mismanaged and other m words.
But then, I've got a daunting amount of information that I could theoretically write here. The problem, as they say, isn't whether or not I can write, but what to write. And I just spent a week in Asia. So, where to start? What to say?
I spent a week in Asia. As the regulars of the other blog will note, I went there to rescue my brother from a hospital. What happened was, he was vacationing in Phukhet, Thailand, which those among you who watch something other than Fox news will note is one of those spots outside of America. Specifically, it's located on the west coast of Thailand, near the gigantic earthquake (something like 8.9 on Mr. Richter's scale) that struck on December 27th. My brother was there, and he narrowly survived that, and managed to get to Bangkok, not only with his life, but with his luggage and passport and money. Miraculous.
Then, in Bangkok, he went into some sort of shock state, and it happened in public, and there was a run-in with the police, who didn't know how to handle it (language barrier, we can assume), so they threw him into a hospital. So I went, and being family, was able to sign him out. Then I went with him to Japan, and then I went back to Bangkok (having two round-trip tickets that centered on that city - one from Paris to Bangkok and back, and one from Bangkok to Fukuoka, Japan, where Gabe works and lives, and back), and then I went back to Paris. Where I discovered that the trains were on strike, and was forced to buy a plane ticket home.
So, that was nine days of my life. What should I say about it? I don't know if I have anything at all to say about it. Or, if I do, it's too jumbled up and current to make any sense right now. Some days, at the end of them you can say, "Today I did X Y and Z." Others take more days to absorb, and you have to let the things that happened in them leak out over the course of even more days. Some days are full of stimulus. Some people live entire lives of those kind of days. Near the end of their lives, they're still leaking wisdom from things that happened to them when they were younger, and they're mistaken for being exceptionally sage and wise. When, reallly, all they did was live their lives the way you're supposed to.
So, as I believe I've said before, I may have to leave this post at that, and let the story leak out anecdotally in future posts. Which is okay. It's good to be guaranteed something to talk about. It beats not writing anything at all. Or always writing sad things, and leading an m-based life.
It's good to be back.