warrior training, pt. 3

so i haven’t written about my muai thai adventures in awhile, and that’s because for the most part, it’s just been learning the small technical shit, and as we all know, nobody wants to read about punching things when you can be out punching things yourself.  — old irish proverb

BUT there have been a couple of exciting developments lately.  one concerns the local trainer, jahk, whom as i mentioned in my previous logs is a former superstar champion who STILL appears to be in his prime.  i learned that he had some kind of foot injury/breakage that is the likely cause of him not fighting anymore.  he was demonstrating a kick once and when he lightly hit the bag with his foot he folded like a lawn chair.

nonetheless, i think we’re starting to bond.  when i was leaving the gym the other day, the stars aligned and i actually understood what he asked me in thai, which was “have you been making friends in thailand?”  i said i was, and then he asked if we were friends.  “rao pen pooan gan,  chai mai?”  waiting for me to respond affirmatively, i delivered a resounding yes and then high fived the shit out of his hand.

as i walked home that day, i knew what had to be done.  no more living in a foreign country and completely ignoring the local language.  when i got home, i was going to find a thai school in bangkok and enroll in private lessons.  it wouldn’t be cheap, but the results would be prominent and immediate.  plus i would get to talk to jahk, my hero, not to mention up my muai thai game.

and getting back to the muai thai itself, i learned something today.  which is that i will be fighting.  in a match.  for real.  december 5th, the day it goes down.  i don’t know where.  i don’t know against who.  i don’t know diddly squat except for, being my first match, if i win, i get 300 baht.  9 dollars.  shit cousin, i’ll do it for free!

the one thing i’m not as adamant about is what my fellow boxers and coaches are asking that i do to prepare for the fight.  give it up.  all of it.  FUN.  sex, drinking, smoking, those little scrumptious cappuccino almond rolls i did a nude photo shoot with in the previous blog.  most fighters i hear about in the professional world train for a soul-destroying three months before they have a match, but i…i just can’t.  one month, maybe.  three?  suck my sock.  now if i lose, which lets face it, given my haphazard determination seems very likely, i’ll be cool with it.  i did man up and fight, after all.  but i’m not going down without a fight.  it’s gonna take more than a few broken ribs to keep this mamma jamma down.

december 5th.  mark your calendars

married for a week

most people don’t know this, but in recent times, i was actually married.  i’m not gonna say WHEN this was, because i’m not even gonna say WHO this was, and if i said when this happened, you could figure it all out.  hell, i’m sure most of you could figure it out anyways, and it’s not like i give a damn.  i just wouldn’t want her to be like “I CAN’T GET INTO HIGH SCHOOL BECAUSE OF THAT STORY YOU WROTE!!”  oh shit that just narrowed it down a tad bit.  ermm…moving on

so i learned a lot from my trial marriage.  nah fuck that.  i learned one thing.  i… could never, ever, ever, everevereverev (*passes out*) get married.  that’s not to say that my marriage wasn’t awesome.  it was, in many ways, ideal and perfect.  but that’s only because we knew that, when one week expired, so would our marriage.  if i had the same thing, but was constantly reminded that this was something i was STUCK in regardless of how i felt about it, then i would just figuratively go bananas and start killing people.  (that’s an expression, right?)

before i delve into details, since i can’t say her name… oh shit!  that narrows it down even more!  what i meant was, since i can’t say HIS or HER name, we’re just going to give her an alias.  i shall call her… clarissa from clarissa explains it all.  that’s got a nice ring to it.  wait but that also means i’ll have to type that a thousand times, and my fingers are calloused from choking the store clerk at 7-11 this morning.  (it’s a long story).  wait a minute!  i’ve got it!  i’m gonna call her… (*strikes a gong*)  MY WIFE

so what was notable about our marriage?  a lot.  let’s make this easy on the reader (i’m there for you dawg) and bulletpoint this shit

• i had to kick my wife out of the building anytime that i wanted to make a shit
• didn’t get anything done.  like my production output was as low as my pants are right now.  and i just took my pants off and threw them on the floor.  THAT’S how low it was
• “eating out” was a much more enlightening experience.  and yes i’m talking about eating food, you clowns
• my eyebrow ring got tangled in her hair and ripped out of it’s socket.  i tell people this happened during a “hug”, which i guess is technically true.  it’s just that the hugging was done with legs and not arms
• i was the proverbial breadwinner in our marriage.  i bought my wife lots of shit, and ya know, i didn’t really mind.  but there’s no way i could do this joint account shit full time.
• it wasn’t always about the sex.  it usually was, but not always
• we held hands.
• my friends would make comments like, “now that girl, she is girlfriend material”  and i was like, “no dickhead, she is wife material.  one week wife material”
• my wife could go out and do her own thing
• she got jealous when she saw me talking to an ex-fling.  reminded me that jealousy is a natural human reaction… well, for all you people with hearts and souls.

in summary, marriage is great when there is a timer attached to it.  incidentally, relationships that are destined to fail/end/implode in my face are the only kind i engage in.  no really.  marriage is not something that offers you the option of taking some time off because you wanna travel, or because you care about the other person and you need some rejuvenation period so that you can go back to them in the future and everything will feel fresh again.  it has one or two privileges that come attached with it (a tax break NOT being one of them, because if you choose to spend a lifetime with one human being to save a couple bucks, you are, essentially, prostituting yourself), but most of this can just be extracted from a normal relationship.  i’m starting to go off on a tangent here, and i’ll save my “why marriage sucks” speech for another day, so

IN SUMMARY (for real this time), being married was… surprisingly fun.  to my wife, although you are no longer with me, our time spent was short and sweet.  if i ever see you again, i’ll be ready to do it all over again… as long as it doesn’t exceed one week.