So far, my time in Vietnam hasn’t been quite what I had imagined. The biggest difference has to do with the extent of my slothfulness. Rather than my planned hiking, rafting, and biking, I instead just sit around eating and drinking nonstop. I can’t help myself. A beer is 50 cents. A coffee (the most delicious coffee in the world, I might add) is less than a dollar. Today alone I drank four. And it doesn’t help matters that every day involves hours upon hours of torrential rain—it just gives me one more excuse to get one more beer. Or one more coffee. Or one more French pastry.
And this doesn’t just go for food. It also goes for personal wellness things like massages, pedicures, and haircuts—all of which I’ve had done in the past three days. (Yes, I finally had a haircut that didn’t involve me wielding a razor comb in the shower without the benefit of a mirror.)
Anyway, I’m a little bit concerned that I’m going to turn into a well-oiled, completely relaxed, drunken heif with the coffee jitters. I’m like a human Vietnamese noodle.
Oh, dear, I could get used to this.
P.S. About the haircut: Though there was a serious language barrier to overcome, my hip little Vietnamese stylist was fantastic. One of the reasons I hate getting my haircut at home is because the stylists are always so timid. I think they’re so afraid of messing up that they usually end up not doing much at all. I hate that. If I’m getting a haircut, I was drastic. Well, this chick was not timid. She was like an Asian Edward Scissorhands.
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