STOLEN (a.k.a. Army Crawling Towards Enlightenment)

How is one supposed to feel after all of their important possessions have been stolen right from under their feet?

Ummm ...

Angry as fuck?

Confused? Disoriented? Vulnerable?

Yes, I would say.

All of these things.

Stupid? Foolish? Embarrassed?

Yes. All of these things, too ...

Oh, and little crazy, for sure ...

Yes. I have felt them all.

DIRTY LAUNDRY

So, here's the deal:

I have a maid.

I didn't plan to have one, didn't ask for one, and certainly don't need one. She just kinda came with the little one room apartment that I am temporarily renting here in Saigon (a place that my sister has dubbed the "heroin shack" after seeing it in the background during a recent "video chat". Yeah, oddly-placed, distorted background lighting (they LOVE fluorescent bulbs here in Southeast Asia) has a way of making any place seem seedier and creepier than it actually is...).

It's kind of the "norm" here in Saigon: the maid thing.