This story continues from the last article.  It describes the day after I’d been unceremoniously kicked to the kerb by my last girlfriend, Lily. One of the less joyous times of my life. One that even to this day, is etched painfully into my memory. It's easy to say "Well, as one door closes, another one opens".

The two cars that interested me were both double cab pick up trucks. One an Isuzu D Max and the other a Nissan Navarra. Noi was right, today was my turn to go shopping - for wheels.

'Betty Crocker's' was the very FIRST instant cake-mix to ever be sold. All you had to do was add water.

"To see a world in a grain of sand, And heaven in a wild flower, Hold infinity in the palm of your hand, And eternity in an hour" 

With her arms crossed over her chest, the woman held the comforter as if trying to shield herself against whoever it was in the dark. Despite the insufficient protection the blanket provided, it actually stopped her from screaming out in fear. A little while later, though, when something grazed her forehead, she almost cried out. The only reason for staying silent was that the touch was soft and came with a scent that surprised and muted her. The smell was of orchids; she was able to identify it right away. Someone was touching her forehead, face, and hands with the velvety petals of the flowers.

The more I read about the Chiang Mai company, the better it got. It was owned and operated by an American guy. I know that in itself did not prevent being ripped off but there was something reassuring about dealing with him. I did not relish spending money on a car with a Thai dealership. That isn’t a racist sentiment. It is a fact. There are too many cross cultural issues and the language barrier in dealing with Thai businesses.  Besides, I was looking for a used vehicle. If it had been otherwise, then I would have trusted the Thai main dealerships to buy a new car. Warranties are warranties, right?

When the woman regained consciousness, the things she noticed first were the hardness of the kitchen floor and its coolness against her bare skin. Her pajama top was open, and one of her breasts had a bright red bite mark on it, but in all likelihood greenish purple by the morning. She covered her breasts and pulled her pajama bottom back up from her knees. If it weren't for the smell of smoke, she wouldn't have moved yet. Out of the utter confusion and despair, she wasn't ready to see the state she was in. The smoke, however, was getting thick, and she forced herself to get up and look around.

“In order to find yourself, first you must lose yourself.“  I felt rather annoyed by the smug words written in the stupid book in front of me. A supposedly learned treatise on how to live life and feel better. What utter bullshit it was!  How dare they suggest that people should become dysfunctional or desperate, before somehow miraculously stumbling across some sort of supposed salvation. Much better to simply skip the bit about becoming lost and go straight to deliverance!

It was only 10.30 am but who cared? I ordered my English breakfast and a pint of Guinness - the ‘black stuff.’ They were the only things I was going to miss in my new life in Asia. Sure, I had family in England and I would miss some of them some of the time. But, owing to my acrimonious divorce the kids had shunned me. It hurt. My way of dealing with the hurt was to ignore it. It was packed away deep in my mind. There was no turning back and no time for regrets.