Somewhere between when the time when the Thai ladies were trying on Mom's fake boob and when the weird little guy put a hot towel while I was urinating, I knew it was time to go home.

On Friday, Mom and I traveled to Ayuthaya province. This is about an hour outside of Bangkok, and was the capital up until about a thousand years ago. We started by touring ruins of a complex that may have been the palace or a temple. The ruins were pretty neat. It was much like touring an old fort in America in terms of how it looked. But obviously, the Thai's cement was a better mix than that of the American pioneers, since it was still holding strong, despite the handicap of an extra thousand years or so of exposure.

Being in Bangkok the second time is very different than being here for the first time. It isn't the city that has changed; it's just that the overwhelming sensation on the first visit is how very different and strange everything is. Now, the chaos seems familiar and natural. We have only done a couple of things around the town. The main thing was to go order and get fitted for custom clothes.

It takes a really long time to get to Thailand. And then, when I finally made it there, we have a little airport/customs kerfuffle.

This marks the first of many entries that I will make during my Thailand trip. I'm not sure exactly how this travel journal will play out, but I would expect it to differ in style frm the rest of the blog in some way or other. I'm making this entry from my PDA at the Baton Rouge airport, so it may be short.

I'm planning to post many web log entries from Thailand during my trip over there in the next two weeks. There is only one problem with that. Every time someone looks at pictures or wants to talk about my last trip there, they get hung up on one particular story. It was actually Heather who was pretty insistent on getting to see the filthy side of Bangkok. We packed in a lot of activity, and I can honestly say that we could not have experienced more cultural oddities than we did in such a short time. Thai smut is just one piece of the big puzzle.

I noticed the current front desk woman last week. She seems friendly enough. She's about the age and demeanor where you might expect her to be doting on new grandchildren. I did notice that she stared at me bug-eyed one day as I crossed the lobby, but I figured she was just really curious, and I really haven't given her much thought one way or the other. Turns out, she's crazy as hell.

You know, this really is probably the best time of year in Louisiana. Consider all of this:

As you've guessed by now, the Baton Rouge St. Patrick's Day parade was this weekend. This is certainly the best one that we have in town. It always takes place at 10:00 on a Saturday, and the weather always cooperates. This year was no exception: enough clouds to keep it from getting too hot, but plenty nice enough to be outside.

I know that admitting this in print gets me labeled as a pussy by a lot of my faithful readers, but hey, I'm here to inform and educate. I spent one afternoon in the hotel spa, and got a massage and a facial. We all know what happens in a massage, but maybe not what goes on with a facial. Besides, there's someone out there who is curious about what goes on in a men's facial, and who will find this site through Goggle years from now.

I saw a commercial for the local Lincoln/Mercury car dealership. This particular commercial has the dealership full of young families: 30-somthing parents, with cute active kids. The problem with this whole thing is that there's no way in hell that any of these people are going to buy a Lincoln or a Mercury. I really thought that you had to be collecting social security before they would even let you into the dealership. At the very least, they must have an AARP discount.

It seems like most people are either raving fans or harsh critics of reality TV. Actually, the ratings show that there are more fans, but at least some of us reality fans aren't willing to admit it.