Life in Cambodia

Hot Dogs and French Fries

Last night was a hot dogs, french fries and a coke kind of night; tonight was a
giant burger night (you know those nights growing up when you knew you were
getting the worst of your Mom’s Betty Crocker cookbook recipes? Giant burger is
the worst of the worst. Really). The first (hot dogs, french fries and coke) being
one of great joy, elation possibly, almost like a reward for doing something good,
finishing something big on time, it’s off your shoulders/mind/plate…you’re feeling
home free. The later? Well, it’s been one of those days where nothing seems to go
right and you’re backed up against the wall and then to top it all off, you can’t even
take pleasure in the dinner planned or divert your mind to an enjoyable eating
experience once in the calm and safety of your own home (maybe there’s a warped
food relationship here, but we’ve all got issues). But nope, this day, it just follows you
all the way to the dinner table and then after dinner the only thing you think you’re
capable of is settling in for a nice mindless, but funny TV show, one that will take
your mind off of everything (you know, like Law and Order, Sex and the City,
Seinfeld and the like); but the only thing showing is something like the Nanny
or reruns of Doogie Houser, MD or the worst of all, a long run movie like Back to
the Future II. Then there is really no escape from the crappiness of your day.

Well, I’m not saying I had a total ‘giant burger day’ but the other day was so nice…
we actually got some things done, someone came back with the right answer.
The sun was out but it was still somewhat overcast, there was a nice breeze in
the air, I didn’t melt from the heat when I walked outside or have a constant row
of sweat beads lining my upper lip…things just felt good. So, what left to do but
finish it off with the perfect celebration meal that kids from PA to Cali know means,
yeah! It’s all good, mom and dad are in a good mood, it’s almost the weekend, they’re
letting us drink Coke, let’s jump on the beds and slide down the stairs in sleeping bags!
That’s what yesterday felt like, so naturally, I had to find the equivalent of good ‘ole
American celebration food: hot dogs and french fries and the market delivered. Nice,
fresh, worm-free red skin potatoes and a variety of sausage links—homemade, all my
choice just dangling in sets of four from the market rafters. Perfect. Even a nice mini-Cambodian-style baguette to stand in for a bun. I even had mustard in my fridge thanks
to the previous tenant who left me some western goods (and if you know me, you know mustard is an important condiment to have). The guard and I ate well and we were
happy. We smiled, we laughed and he shared with me the Khmer words for the American
feast we were partaking in…although, he was really confused by the mustard and why
I would want that on the ‘dog. So after my enjoyment yesterday, I thought it might
continue in the next day, but no, I walked in the office and it started hitting the fan and
didn’t quite stop. Everything kind of got ‘piled on’, where you’re desperately trying to
pull yourself out from under it all, but whatever you do you just keep getting buried
deeper, sort of like quick sand. And then, to top it off, you come home and have to deal
with something equivalent to giant burger which makes the whole day just seem like a
waste. ON A BRIGHTER NOTE: I did get to commiserate with a friend a bit, who helped
me process some of this crappiness (but he couldn’t do anything about the giant burger
thing—you can only expect so much when the day went as it did…).

But don’t feel sorry for me. I’ve made my bed and I’m sure enough sleeping in it, but
man, I just wish things had looked up a bit and ended with pizza or something. Next time.

posted by Life in Cambodia @ 7:24 PM