It's all white on the night

I'm a natural

So as much as us Westerners obsess about getting that perfect bronzed tan, the Thai’s obsess with getting that perfect luminescent white skin (tradeja?). The first thing I noticed in the first 7-11 (the first of thousands I might add) I was in, were the rows of face cream and wash for both men and women with “whitening” agent. I even took a picture. This coming from a girl (me) who although I am far from girly I still have bronzer, summer glow body cream and other things to make me more brown. The irony isn’t lost on me. If that’s not the pot calling the kettle bronze I don’t know what is.  Oh I am also told by people, Thai people , that Thais are obsessed with skinny-ness. But don’t they know that everyone looks slimmer with a tan??

I have nothing to say about this. I still look pregnant.
My two signature looks seem to be pregnant or man. lucky me.

in the land of heffalumps

seriously  no time to post right now but i made my way through bangkok and up to Surin through torrential floods (over waist deep). At the sanctuary now  and did my first elephant bath today. An outstanding experience. They have really really really big poo and that's what I will be turning into paper tomorrow. More later. Will find a way to post dammit! Sorry for no comments lately, it has been a whirlwind since I left France. Soon I will have tons of pictures, I finally got a camera!!! and it's waterproof!!!

hard to say who was more embarrassed during this exchange

So on my last excursion in Barcelona my friend and I went for a stroll up Las Ramblas which is 1.2km long street bordered by the Gothic area on one side and the Raval area on the other. On the boulevard all the way along are kiosks selling whatever you can imagine, from flowers to magazines to bunnies and chicks. Tons of buskers too. I had been drinking wine on Friday night, as you do, and was in considerable pain on Saturday. As much as I love wine, and there is a whole lot of love there - I mean c'mon I live in France - it is not worth it because of the inescapable heartburn that accompanies it. Burn baby burn, sometimes I cave though and give into the consequences. Anyway, before I could tuck into my beer I had to go the pharmacy to get some heartburn stuff. The nice lady, who didn't speak a lick of English (if you can imagine i did charades to convey my message), sorted me out with some strong stuff and I took it to the counter to pay. Get to the till, and the nice lady there said to me "no can sell.". Points to my stomach and says "YOU HAVE BABY?" .

gave birth the next day to a one year old.

then there was a huge awkward silence after I said "no, i have lunch". Just enough time to break a nervous sweat and then I ran away (as you do when total strangers think you are pregnant and the last time you had sex was so long ago that any baby you could have had, would be toddler age by now)

joining the ranks

joining the ranks of those that don't post on weekends. kicked my shoes off and watched these guys with a couple cold cans of beer. 

day five of captivity...

The head tormentor is hungry again. Have tried to sleep all day in solitary confinement. The captor and accomplices will perhaps assume I’ve gone overboard. They say things like “sick as a dog”. Yes dogs are sick but why are these units always asking for food at unheard of hours of the day? My night, their day, be sick already. Why eat in this state? Purposely overcooked the carcass tonight in hope that they would relent with the harassment. No such luck. Where are the other captives? Perhaps they have made it to their destination and have tasted that thing called freedom. They talked about that place a lot, why would they want to lick it? Am waiting for their signal to make my move. I can swim, it is only a matter of time…..

thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you - promo time

just thank you so very much to the original and new followers.  Mynx  at Dribble is right - readers comments really are the new crack so please feed my addiction. and if you go look at Annah's website you will see this awesome button on the side titled "Adventures of a Sailor Girl". Click on it, at her sight, to see (well I'll tell you right now, it will bring you right back here but pressing buttons is always fun)!

Art by Annah of Red Means Go
who will too soon find  Famosity!

I like pervy  Dan from The Danaconda a lot too. He is the yin to my current state of asexuality yang.  Speaking of sexuality, Annah and Dan did the funniest collaboration on that very subject that you have to check out. Get ready to cry tears of laughter - He Says, She Says

As we are still on a passage I am still able to be the master (mistress?) of the remote. Tonights program is called "Big Trouble In Thailand". Really getting some good guidance under my belt for the upcoming trip. I definitely know what not to do. This show is terrifying. No wonder I don't watch t.v. It's so scary out there in the world.

my blog is black because that's how i feel inside.

not really. it is pretty gloomy looking though isn't it?  i think it's because i started this, and did nothing with it, when i was coming out of a pretty dark time. but i love black. my dad only wears black. since the early 80's or something. that is dedication (he's a mathematician. cannot. stop. simplifying.)

my black bike "Geoffrey"

11 days from now I'll be on a flight to thailand. to shovel shit. literally.

double rainbow = good omen

Bon Voyage. We dropped the lines today in Porto Montenegro and are making our way back to Barcelona, Spain around the boot of Italy. I am not a city girl but Barcelona could have me. It is fan-fucking-tastic! Unfortch I will most likely only have one day there followed by a flight back home to France. A one day turn around there and then off to Thailand for volunteer work at an ELEPHANT conservation site. that's right.!

I have had fair warnings from my caring and witty friends, in regard to my thai trip, about guys that are girls and people trying to get in your pants. All I have to say to that is  -no thank you- to chicks or dicks or chicks with dicks. The only thing entering this body  in the near or distant future is botox. And potentially a tube for colonics.  More about that later. Not sure if I can hack fasting for 7 days. Food is my life.

Going on watch in  few hours so have to catch some zzz's.

i tried to take a pic of the goodbye sign at customs
but i guess my phone decided to  focus on the reefer
typical..

Mountain Dew

funny foreign things

i used to secretly want a tape worm

worm side dishes. ordered from that section of course

the best part

The best part of my job is going to the markets. I wanted to write an amazing post with loads of pictures about how vibrant colorful and exciting they are but I still don't have a camera and more importantly we have been at anchor for about a week now. FML - not fuck my life, well maybe a little, but feed me lobster, find me land, forgive my laisser faire etc.. Sure being at anchor is great for the owners but my job is to source food wherever in the world I might be. Being at anchor, in the most remote places, interferes with this part a wee bit. Plus I feel trapped. Even if you don't get off the boat when you are on the dock, it is there, and allows a mental sense of liberty. It is very hard to find anywhere to get away on a boat this size and we aren't allocated  any exterior space (i'm currently on a 38m). Ok, lost track there because what I meant to say is the markets make it worthwhile. The perfume of all the different fruits and vegetables, the old ladies with their three bunches of herbs, the piles of cheese and meat, the haggling, the noise, the various languages, grimy hands reaching out to you with slices of whatever it is they are selling that day - I eat a lot of dirt by the way. It is such a buzz, so colorful and I absolutely love it. You know most of the stuff you are buying is organic and your eggs, that are still warm, are not even a day old. This is in Europe of course. I haven't been to many markets on other continents - yet.

really scary market thing after the jump!

funny foreign things

just no

At a quick glance I think we can all see what I thought this might have said. Nice touch with the aroma vapour.

full moon rising

is that a real photo? I took it so i know it is
but it looks like a pic of a painting. weird

and maragarita too! note the stunning presentation by the stunning Michelle in a spice grinder with a salt rim. It's the little things, I think we can all agree on that.  fuck yeah

tell it to me like i'm five - a recipe for veal lasagna

the owners of the yacht i am currently on just had two couples visit for about a week. they were the loveliest people. really personable, funny, approachable, and just good folk. the husbands of each couple both fell in love with this lasagna  i made for them. i don't know how or why as from my angle i was just trying to put something together with the limited resources i had (frozen spinach and minced veal?  of course). They then asked for the recipe. ummmmmmm ...what recipe? my cooking doesn't really have rules or guidelines. Needless to say  they were so lovely that i tried to write it out for them. So here it is for you. I was also informed that they had never made a normal lasagna so tried to make it as clear as possible for them - hence the title Tell it TO Me Like I'm 5. which incidentally will be the name of the cookbook that i will probably never get around to writing. so there it is after the break. too big to have here and also since i don't have a picture of it, or the ingredients i have included a picture of Scoobs. He is a bichon frise from ireland that i trained when his owners didn't have time or enough experience to do it themselves. he was my sidekick for months. i am not the small fluffy dog type at all but he totally won me over. love him so much.

those are the fangs that ripped through my nostril, gave
me septicemia and a scar for life. we were playing.
puppy teeth are new and sharp

the best part of my job is also the worst part

you should have seen my face

I'm talking about provisiong. There is a lot to be said about the markets in Europe, just not now. It's the super market roulette you play in whatever port you happen to be in, and the orders sent to agents that get so lost in translation. This is the frustrating, albeit interesting part. Went to shore yesterday, got some meat with the captain (by the way, thank you very much dean!) and on the way back in the tender he said "it might not be what you are used to". Ok fine, I am at that point happy to know we got something other than veal (side note: they don't seem to let many animals grow to maturity here. piglets, lamb, baby cows, it's all like that. tough to get adults). Get back to the boat, organizing meals for the next day and pull out a leg of lamb (with a bonus!)

should have brought
my own knives

Me: oh my god. the tail is still on it

Michelle: well, you are the chef after all

Me: asshole

that's not sunlight streaming in.
That is god saying do not fling the
baby's tail. 

Maybe so, I am the "chef". But I am not the butcher. And beside the unexpected body parts there seems to be a lot of bloodletting still to be done. It's like a fucking DIY abattoir around here. here being my galley. i must have put about 3 liters of blood down the drain and definitely 3 tails went flying overboard. It's funny how a lamb tail can make me "oh my god" but i happen to love ox-tail soup. it's just different. i don't know why, but it is. i have been eating cereal since yesterday afternoon , and to think there was a point a couple years ago when all i wanted was to do an advanced butchering class.

Let Them eat Cake

Red Means Go is the funniest website that I am reading right now. Anyway, it is Annah's six month blogge-versary today and if you have a spare moment to kill (of course you do, you're at work right?!) check out her hilarity and pursuit of Famosity. I happened to be making cupcakes this morning, went for my daily fix of humour (at her site. obv) , saw the festivities and decorated in her honour. I really miss making people sick with awesome sweet things & i also miss decorating cakes. That being said - it is bloody el-scorchio here, wherever i am, in montenegro. Icing nearly split and sprinkles melted in my hand. Doesn't matter..happy day Annah!

reflecting on the morning

Salsify! and i don't mean the vegetable

despite what it looks like
i am not balding, nor do i have a bad weave
but i am leaning towards ginge..

I knew those Salsa Slim classes would pay off eventually!

One night off in Kotor. So we had a night off. There is no way to explain this but if you work on a yacht you will understand where I am coming from. The boss and company went off for dinner. We got to go ashore. We had  three hours (and none of the following was intentional).

Basically this:

plus this: 

equalled a great night out, a whole lot of fun and getting flung around a room, salsa style, by some pretty smick bartenders. plus a big headache the next day. well worth it!

before? during? the rest are all afters...

I am using the pic above as proof, that I, for once, was not the instigator

More tom-foolery after the jump!

goodbye Croatia

and helloooooo Montenegro

pants! i lobe you!

attaque d'amour

one more pic after the jump!