All Babies Want to Get Born

So, I know that I said that I would write from Bangkok. I lied. Well, not so much a lie as a misjudgment of time. Our flight from Chiang Mai to Bangkok was delayed so we were able to spend some quality time in the airport. Luckily, it gave us time to figure some important things out. Brittanie had been having stomach problems almost from the get-go in Thailand. We spent the majority of the time brainstorming and blaming it on some weird Thai bacteria strain. Well the truth is that she is lactose intolerant so during a moment of enlightenment (thanks monks) it occurred to Brittanie that maybe having yogurt and cheese on a daily basis wasn't the best idea. If only we had a Nutritionist and/or a Nutrition and Eating Behavior grad student with us to figure this out earlier. We'll make sure to bring them along next time.

It turns out that my flight back was only 14 hours which is dramatically different from 17! I sat next to a nice woman that teaches 5th grade in Bangkok. She said her favorite Bangkok restaurant is Sizzler. I told her that we neglected trying that one out but will be sure to swing by next time. Our conversation was pleasant but I'm pretty sure by the end of the trip she thought I was bipolar. I chose Juno as my first movie and ended up sobbing uncontrollably about half way through. I'm not 100% sure where that came from but I have a sinking suspicion that it had nothing to do with all babies wanting to get born. I kept catching tentative looks from Heather (the teach) wondering what was wrong with the convulsing American. Next I switched it up and watched Step Up 2: The Streets. This is a phenomenal movie about a street smart dancer torn between her electric boogaloo roots and her new Juliard type school. I don't want to ruin it, but her crew wins the dance off and everyone learns a lesson that the love of dancing breaks all socioeconomic boundaries. I got so into it I was literally dancing in my seat (my version of the street). At that point Heather took a sleeping pill and didn't talk to me anymore.

After landing in LA I collected my bag (yay it was there this time!) and headed to pick up my rental car. I saw the Budget shuttle pull up just as I was coming out of the airport so I sprinted after it to catch it. Derrik (the driver) pulled back over so I could jump in. After I caught my breath and had a good look around I realized that I had rented from Hertz. Ugh, stupid confusing American airport transit systems got me again - although this time I could have avoided an awkward situation by reading the side of the bus, the signs inside, Derrik's hat, or his embroidered polo. Luckily he was nice enough to drop me off down the street at Hertz. During our extra time together he said that he was sure he had seen me somewhere before. I went on and on about how this was logistically impossible before I realized this was his version of a pick up line. This is funny because last time I was at LAX on my way to pick up my rental I received a note with a number saying "If you're down with the brown, I'm a fella that likes Vanilla." The two must have been brotha's.