Ever heard of Doctor fish therapy? You have now. Basically, it’s a fish pedicure. You stick your feet in a tank and let hundreds of Garra ruffa suck the dry skin off your feet. The American I met at the hostel shared his experience at a nearby mall. Ten dollars for ten minutes? Count me in. It’s like a hundred tiny mouths tickling your toes. I bet it’d work wonders for a chapped ass. Next time. A young woman approached me on the street and asked me if I'd ever done any modeling. I hadn’t, but maybe my time had come. At the very least, my smooth feet were ready for prime time. She smiled, gave me a card, and told me to stop by the office.
Read MoreFrom my second post, you may recall my reasons for choosing Bali as a launch pad. I couldn’t decide where to start my sojourn. A copy of Eat, Pray, Love fell into my lap. I read it and thought, Indonesia might be legit. I was too lazy to choose, so I let a middle-aged white woman’s memoir be my divining rod. The book didn’t cradle my soul, but it did peak my interest in. And so it was.
Read MoreI saw things. Mildly unsettling things. Bali is tropical. Balmy. People get warm. Children swim. A group of kids went for a dip in an irrigation/drainage ditch along the road next to a rice field. Didn’t see a cremation, but I did witness nude boys splash around in, what I can only assume, was exceedingly filthy water. Highlights? Well, one kid took a prolonged aqua squat which could only mean one thing: Poopy time…
Read MoreTo be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment. Imperfection is beauty, madness is genius and it's better to be absolutely ridiculous than absolutely boring. Always be a first rate version of yourself and not a second rate version of someone else. About all you can do in life is be who you are. Some people will love you for you. Most will love you for what you can do for them, and some won't like you at all. Just be yourself, there is no one better.
Read MoreThis meeting, held at a Ubud restaurant, was brimming with odd right from the git-go. Cyrus and I are tall fellows, and on this night, both happened to be wearing black t-shirts. That was sufficient for repeated instances of mistaken identity, me for him…and two for tea.
Cyrus’ Rotary Club liaison, the woman who organized the presentation…
Read MoreNothing aids neuroticism like fear of the unknown. Pretend time was fun, but I was no mechanic. I figured I should have a real one do a service check (Honda dealership in Denpasar). And then I had another service check (small Ubud shop) to check out the first service check. Check? The dealership missed brake pads worn to the metal and an aged master cylinder. This is odd. Did they not miss an opportunity to bilk a gringo? Or did they switch out newer parts for bad?
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