My head is currently encased in a wrap on which there is the design of a Confederate flag. Jonella keeps rolling her eyes at me when I wear it. I like to think I'm being ironic. It's practical and comfortable. That the Confederate flag is a bogan/redneck icon is one thing. I just like the colours, and bunched up as a headband you can't tell what it is. (I've also got a camouflage one, an Union Jack one and a blue one with waves on it - they will all get worn. It's good to have the hair off the back of my neck.
Part of me likes order - the other part of me likes chaos - and Indonesia is providing plenty of that.
There is a calm at our villa. It is a wonderful haven in the centre of Ubud. You can barely hear the traffic which is only a hundred metres away. The Monkey Forest Road is one of the main thoroughfares through the town. It's busy. It's also filled with rather large, very cheeky, rabies ridden monkeys. Walking home from lunch today, I watched as Trish was accosted by a couple of the buggers. She had a plastic bag in her had. The little bastards know what they are looking for.
It is now somewhat later.
A lot later from when I started this.
Again, I have lots to say, but I am a bit too squiffy to say it - as I'm a couple of cocktails down and about to head into the land of gin and tonic.
Tonight, before dinner and after Yin Yoga, I once again earned my bogan stripes. Real bogan stripes.
To the horror of most, I pulled out from the annals of my back brain, a sparkling rendition of Khe Sahn, 30 years after university, I still know the words. I learned it during first year uni for a dare... don't tell anybody, but I'm not that much of a Cold Chisel fan.
I'm not sure who was more horrified - my group, or the guys singing karaoke next door, who really deserved my rendition of Khe Sahn.
Ah well, it's better than my version of The Dead Kennedy's Too Drunk to Fuck....
Yep. I'm squiffy.
Today's Song:
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