Bubble

Since the gloom and doom of the death passed along with the widow back to Ireland, I've come to be living in a wonderful little bubble here on the island. It is not what I had intended exactly for this voyage, but I'm happy and part of the purpose of this trip is being willing to take advantage of what I find before me. During the wake, Mairead and I moved in with Sven, but he asked me to stay even after the mourning period was over and we had paced her off back to Ireland. I have a really pretty room in my own building, our living room is a balcony overlooking the a lush jungle valley, and my friends and I lounge on cushions and hammocks in the breeze. Sven, John and I have become really good friends. Vanessa, Sven's lady, has moved in with us as well. We had a splendid Bushwick-in-Thailand dinner party the other night. I understand that this is a bubble, a brief period of time with some really kind, interesting people. It's our little haven. We have a lot of fun, just cooking out at the house or hanging out at the sunset bar or raging in Haad Rin. So I'm delaying my departure yet a little longer to stay with my little family of friends for a bit. When I think of life back in New York, socially I'm definitely happier here. In some ways. Plus I don't pay any rent.

I'm going to get yelled at by all of you back home for all the odd English and Aussie slang I've picked up.

flexibly yours,
Tom