Day 7: Get a new face

Not sure this is really my look. Photo: Isaac Stone Simonelli

Daily Updates are not edited and function more as daily journal entries – so if the plot seems to be all over the place or missing entirely and the tenses changes faster than a kaleidoscope, well, that's just the way it is.

I wake up in total darkness to an empty, cold room. The shuttered windows, aircon and thick duvet covers make it feel like home. The radiating warmth from a duvet after slowly soaked up your body heat all night on a crisp, cold morning is one of the simplest, most pure pleasures in the morning.

Yesterday was a play day, today will be a work day – but not yet. I curl up and fall back to sleep.

By 11am I'm out of bed and ready to get started writing. It's hard to get comfortable. I try a small restaurant, called Coffee Place, the back of the chair is blown out and the view is of a building blocking the view of the ocean. I scarf down a big breakfast and decided to got Sunset Bar, which isn't far from the Big Buddha.

It's closed, but an ice cream parlor with three glass walls that is nearly hanging over the water is open. I curl up on a slightly uncomfortable couch to write, a coffee in a hand. The glare on my screen from all the nature light is unbearable. I'm squinting hard at the screen, leaning forward like a grandparent trying to find where to click when using “The Facebook”.

Fuck it. I go back to the hostel and hole up in my room.

The sun is already drowsing and thinking of calling it a night be the time I finished writing the posts, though there is still more work to do on it.

I expect to feel bad for having failed to roll any dice so far today, but they had enough to say yesterday. Perhaps their voices should be rested.

The people at the haberdashery did a good job with the tank bag for a 100 baht, so I'll be ready to hit the road tomorrow. At this point my intentions are to return to Phuket. It seems impossible I won't have to get this license plate sorted out. I think about going back with some surface disappointment, but there is plenty of underlying joy at the thought of getting to see Julia and so many of my friends that love there.

It's nearly bedtime, so I give the die one benign roll: deep Thai massage, face massage, deep oil massage and head & shoulder massage. My body is craving a massage, but I've been trying to be a bit budget conscious when possible.

The die comes up a two. Hmmm... a face massage.

The women laugh when I explain that's what I want.

With slight apprehension I lay down on the massage table as they spread towels over me and start preparing some creams.

The penny drops, facial. I'm getting a facial, not a face massage. Well, so is life.

A young Thai woman with walnut colored skin and two tiny, frizzy pigtails is in charge of me.

She bursts out in laughter when her fingers first touch the stubble on my chin, her small mouth revealing a set of perfect white teeth with a big smile.

She speaks pigeon English with her boss sitting on the bed next to us. I tell them I'm going to Phuket tomrrow. The boss lady rattles something of in Thai, which the girl, Khun Song, translates.

“She talk you go Phuket for girl,” Khun Song says, as they attempt to explain why a grown man is getting a facial at 9pm on a Sunday.

I laugh. Later in the conversation I try to explain the dice, but fail.

I open my eyes and Khun Song's face feels a few centimeters too close, not in uncomfortable way, but it's the sort of distance that you could peck out a kiss if you really tried. The sort of distance implies intimacy – at least in most situations.

After several layers of moisturizers are applies, Khun Song starts in with the mask.

As the masks dries she gives me a light massage – my body is craving a massage. The tension in my shoulders is so obvious under her fingers. A light massage on my shoulders and then she starts on my legs, working her way up.

She makes it well best the knee when her hands brush something unexpected and hard. Her hands recoil, as if she's bumped into a snake.

I laugh.

“Wallet,” I say. I reach into my pocket, where my wallet is, having slide toward my inner thigh.

She laughs. We both know what she thought she'd touched. But any appendages that far down my leg, would give me bragging rights I simply don't have.

Khun Song brings out a mirror so I can examine my new face. It looks strikingly like the old face. I thank her, pay the 400 baht plus a 100 baht tip and head back to the hostel, just two doors down.

With the internet cutting out constantly, it takes another hour to get the post live.

“Posted,” Wix finally tells me. I want to celebrate. But I also know it's time for bed. I give the die a few benign options, which leads me to buying a bag of fish flavored crisps, as well as caramel and salt crisps to munch on while I watch a few things on YouTube before calling it a night.

It wasn't the biggest dice day in the world, but I still managed to catch a curve ball.

P.S. Finally got the whole story about the daughter of the owners of Casa Luna. It's insane, but not my story to share. Nonetheless, I don't think I've written truer words when I wrote that having a child is one of the craziest adventures a person can go on. And after hearing their story, I'm sure it's not one I'm ready for yet... but maybe soon.

The Proposition

THE premise is simple: Allow die roles to determine the majority of decisions faced while motorbiking throughout the world with a limited budget for an entire year.      It’s 365 days of tempting fate, enticing serendipity and letting go of free will – if such things exist at all.

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