The Voices In My Head

Ramblings of a Bangkokian Girl

Wednesday, June 30, 2004

A Histology Lesson - Look-Chin Style

I stopped by my cousin's house the other day to drop something off for my mom, and while I was there, I chatted with my aunt as she prepared some look-chin pla for my cousins. Because I am a nerd, I am going to enlighten you all with a brief Histology lesson, look-chin style.

In Thai, look-chin means meat ball. A great variety of said meat balls can be found here in the Land of Smiles, for example:

Look-chin pla = Fish balls
Look-chin moo = No, not cow balls (moooo!), but pork balls
Look-chin neua = Beef balls
Look-chin gai = Chicken balls (Does this mean that guys are chicken? Heh, j/k.)
Look-chin goong = Shrimp balls
Look-chin pla-meuk = Squid balls
Look-chin maa = Dog balls (Hah! Gotcha there, now didn't I? Don't worry, we don't eat dogs here... at least most of us don't.)


Heh, dog balls. Now why does that sound really dirty? =X Anyways, now that I've gotten that look-chin bit all cleared up, let's continue on with our lesson, shall we?


A HISTOLOGY LESSON
Look-Chin Style


EXHIBIT #1: Your normal, ordinary erythrocyte, or red blood cell.
Note the nice biconcave disc shape, which provides a 20-30% greater surface area than a sphere relative to cell volume, thus significantly enhancing gaseous exchange. This shape, along with the fluidity of the plasma membrane, allows the erythrocyte to deform readily, and thus erythrocytes are able to pass through the smallest capillaries.
(Yeah, I had to look that up. My brain isn't sophisticated enough for me to spout fancy medical jargon like that.)


An actual image of a bunch of erythrocytes, bouncing along oh so merrily.



EXHIBIT #2: A sickle cell.
Unlike lucky schmuck Mr. Erythrocyte above, poor l'il sickle cell here is sickle-shaped (duh, that's why it's called a sickle cell).
Because of their shape, they are unable to squeeze through smaller blood vessels. As if life weren't unfair enough already, sickle cells only live to be 60 days long, whereas those erythroyte bastards live up to 120 days! Also, because the body cannot make new red blood cells as fast as it loses sickle blood cells, the result is that sickle-cell patients end up having less blood cells and less hemoglobin than your average person. This can lead to loads of symptoms. If you're interested (though I bet you couldn't care less), you can read more about it here.



An actual image of a sickle cell, lonely amongst a sea of perfect, flawless erythrocytes. How sad.



OK, so why have I suddenly inserted a picture of the once popular (where have they disappeared to? I miss them) R&B group, TLC? Because T-Boz has sickle-cell anemia and is also a spokesperson for the SCDAA. Yay for T-Boz.



EXHIBIT #3: A spherocyte.
I'm too lazy to tell you what spherocytes are all about, but you can read more about it here... if you're interested (but lemme guess again, you couldn't care less?).



Spot the spherocyte!



EXHIBIT #4: And the cutest of 'em all... an astrocyte!
Astrocytes can be found in your CNS and are known for having voracious appetites. Since they're phagocytotic, they basically engulf and gobble up any debris that happens to cross their path. Yeah, they're gluttonous little buggers.


And again, an actual image of an astrocyte.


~*~


OK, so now that you've all expired from boredom, I will end this here and leave you with this very important public message:





Currently Playing: Flowers in the Window by Travis
Currently Reading: Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix by JK Rowling (Any HP fans out there have probably already heard that the next installment of JK Rowling's fantastic Harry Potter series is going to be titled "Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince". Please, please hurry up with book 6, Mrs. R!)

Tuesday, June 22, 2004

Hello, my name is Lynn and I am a Hansonaholic

When I was 14, I had a dream that my favorite band in the world, Hanson, came to Thailand and I ended up missing their appearance because I had an exam on the same day. Well, fast forward seven years later, and guess what? That dream came true! AGHHHHHHHHH (NOTE: that cry was a cry of distress and anguish, not of joy and jubilation, mind you). I had NO idea that Hanson were going to be coming to do a brief appearance and meet-and-greet session last Saturday, and so I completely missed it. MISSED IT. I guess I can credit this to the fact that I no longer check their website for updates ten million times a day like I used to when I was in tenth grade, and also because I was busy typing furiously away at my computer the week before (damn you, stupid thesis paper), and so I haven't really been up to date with all the latest BKK events. So anyway, what happens when I finally emerge from my academia vortex three days later? Hanson pop on by BKK and leave without me even knowing, dammit! (AGHHHHHHHH.)


Everyone and anyone who knew me back in high school knew that I was a big Hanson fan. I was thee Hansonaholic of the Class of 2000. There were your gifted athletes, talented musicians, smart geniuses, and then there was Lynn the Hanson Freak. Granted I don't have little teenybopper crushes on them anymore, and I don't circle their birthdays in my calendar like I used to when I was 14, but I'm still a really big fan. I love the music. I love the lyrics they write. And I love the spirit that radiates through their voices when they perform live.


I'm sure that everyone used to have a favorite band, singer, celebrity, athlete, or movie star that they looked up to and adored when they were a teen. You might have done fanatical things, like fly halfway around the world to see one of their concerts (um, guilty); beg the guy at Tower Records to give the store's front window life-sized cardboard cut-out of your favorite band to you, so that you could prop it up outside your bedroom door like a Buckingham Palace guard (guilty, and it's now collecting dust in the storage room under the stairs); memorize all their lyrics word for word, and spend weekends plucking out their songs on your piano (guilty); buy a guitar in hope that you would someday be able to strum those strings like a pro, just like Isaac your favorite band member (guilty, but I can only play three chords); and maybe even call up your local radio station ten thousand times a day so that your favorite band could be number 1 that week, and so that those loser Backstreet Boys could get shoved back down to number 2 where they rightfully belong (ahem, guilty again).


I look back at that teenage self and half-cringe, half-laugh at all the preposterous things she did. Now, when I see clusters of teenage girls at Asia Books, oohing and aahing at magazine pictures of Westlife and Justin Timberlake, I know exactly what that bubbly, giggly sense of joy feels like. Had I had the chance to meet Hanson when I was 14, I might've done something really embarrassing, like gape unattractively, burst into tears, hyperventilate... or maybe even propose. OK, I'm just kidding about the latter bit (or am I?). But now, seven years later, had I known that Hanson would be stopping by BKK, I would have liked nothing more in the world than to go up to them, shake their hands, and thank them for making such brilliant music - music that inspired a little 14-year old teen in more ways than they can possibly imagine - and for making her smile (and squeal).


So I missed their appearance, but I'll live. Still, I am sad. =( I hear they might be coming back again at the end of the year for a full-fledged, plugged-in gig, so I'm keeping my fingers (and toes) crossed!


HANSON IN THAILAND
(Photos courtesy of Sony Music Thailand)


"Hi, I'm Mr. Beautiful Boy Hanson, and I have the remarkable ability of looking gorgeous, even after a long 16-hour trans-Pacific flight."


I wish I were a baby elephant so that beautiful American boys could feed me bananas.


And I wish I were a baby elephant so that beautiful American boys could touch my, um, trunk, too.


OK, now I really, REALLY wish I were an elephant. =X
Think that Harry Potter or Severus Snape will be willing to lend me some Polyjuice Potion?


~*~


The boys being interviewed by Channel V Thailand's VJ, Terng. (Mind you, this isn't a completely accurate word-for-word recounting of what went on, but is the general gist of it.)

TERNG: So what’s your ideal girl like?
TAYLOR: My wife, Natalie, she's just amazing.
ZAC: My girlfriend.
ISAAC: This might sound kinda cliché, but looks aren’t a top priority. There's really gotta be that emotional and spiritual connection…
ZAC: Go be a monk!
(Laughter)
ZAC: But seriously, once that Viagra affect disappears with age, there's gotta be a relationship and connection there.

Ya see why I love these boys?


TERNG: So if a movie were to be made about your lives, who would you want to have star as you?
ZAC: Does the person have to be living? Because I would choose Chris Farley! He was kinda chubby and really fun, and I’m like that.
ISAAC: Brad Pitt!
(Laughter)
TAYLOR: Tiger Woods.
(Silence)
TAYLOR: Because he knows how to drive that ball.

And that's all I have to say about that.


~*~


Every year, there is a traditional Thai college farewell party that's thrown for graduates by their roon nong (younger classmates in their freshman, sophomore, and junior years), and accordingly, it is called a "Bye 'Nior" (Bye Seniors, get it?) party. Last week I went to the Bye 'Nior party that my roon nong held for my fellow classmates and I at the Than Settakij Building, and it was loadssss of fun. Lots of laughs, sappy, sentimental speeches, and picture-taking. Our roon nongs really worked their butts off to arrange and coordinate everything for us... ขอบคุณน้องๆ ทุกคนที่ช่วยกันจัดงานให้กับพวกพี่ๆ นะค่ะ! พวกเราคงไม่มีวันลืมงานคืนนั้น และคงไม่มีวันลืมความทรงจำเก่าๆ จากปีก่อนๆ So thanks once again, na ka. =)


~*~


On Saturday, I went to Emporium with my mom to do a little shopping. No, let me rephrase that. I went to Emporium on Saturday so that my mom could do a little shopping, and so I could help her lug all her shopping bags around. =P


One of her friends owns this boutique, called Kenzo, on the ground floor, and her friend said that she'd give my mom a 50-70 percent discount on any article of clothing in the shop. So hmm, wow, not a bad deal, eh? Yeah, well, that's what I thought so, too. However, when we got there, while my mom's friend helped her choose some selections, I stealthily and casually sneaked a few peeks at some of the price tags. Holy friggin cow! 12,000 baht for a stinkin' blouse??? Never mind that the blouse is stunning and I want nothing more than to rub my face against that soft-as-a-baby's-bum fabric, but 12,000 stinkin' baht??? Hmm, well, let's try that rack over there beneath the 50% discount sign. Ladidada... Oooh, what a pretty little dress this is. Now, let's just flip that price tag over - Sweet Jesus! 39,000 baht!! And this is after the 50% discount??? You do the math!


The clothes were G-O-R-G-E-O-U-S. Straight from Paris and hand-picked by my mom's friend herself. Dazzling colors, beautiful fabrics, and nothing but awesomely hip and original designs. Man, oh man. After much browsing, fitting and trying, my mom ended up with two blouses and a pair of pants. There was a really sweet, vintage leather jacket there, but I didn't mention it to my mom; the price was too preposterously sky-high to even bother doing so.


I later took my routine stopover at Books Kinokuniya, bought three books (go find a way to procure a copy of Dan Brown's Angel and Demons, now!), popped over at CD Warehouse, bought the latest albums by The Calling and Alanis Morissette, and later diddle-daddled with my mom at the Estee Lauder, Clinique, and MAC counters on the ground floor. We had fun with the Estee Lauder Skin Scanning Device, and got to see images of our sweat pores, all blown up a couple of thousand times. Not too attractive, people.


Later, when we were leaving Emporium, guess who we ran into on our way to the parking lot exit? Mr. Prime Minister himself! I spotted him first, because he was walking right behind us, and coincidentally I saw his reflection behind ours in the Rolex shop window as we were walking past (how can those Rolex folks fit so many diamonds onto a watch face??). To my horror, my mom turned around and then they suddenly started talking. Coincidentally, my mom had just met Thaksin the week before at a seminar, and so I guess he recognized her. I know that they've met a number of times already in the past, since my mom and uncle are acquainted with his brother and sister, but it was pretty darn surreal for little ol me. I mean, it's not everyday you see the Prime Minister strolling around Emporium with his wife, Khun Ying Pojama, on a Saturday afternoon. But I kept my cool. I might've nearly forgotten to wai him and his wife, but other than that, nothing really drastic happened. They were very normal people, in case you were wondering. Very friendly, very courteous, very casual, and looking very much like an ordinary couple out for a little weekend shopping. Yes, very normal, you see, if you didn't take into account the numerous bodyguards that surrounded them. As I stood waiting for my mom while she conversed with the prime minister and his wife, the clad-in-black bodyguards suddenly began to swarm me... literally. One of them was practically stepping on my toes, another was flanking my left side, and another was practically pressed up against my back; you'd think I were about to whip out a gun, give a sinister cackle, and take Mr. and Mrs. Prime Minister hostage before whisking them away into the smoggy underground parking lot or something! But other than that, they were really nice and normal people.


~*~


On Sunday evening, I went to a wedding at the Dusit Thani Hotel. This is the FOURTH wedding I've been to this past year and a half, and believe me, the novelty tends to wear off after awhile. Don't get me wrong – I love weddings. But many of the wedding receptions I've been to in Thailand seem like carbon-copies of the other; they all take place in fancy, snazzy hotels and generally follow the same old routine (what happened to getting married under the sea or at the North Pole?). My brother was in a foul mood that night. You see, the reception was on the same night as the Linkin Park concert (who also happen to be his numero uno most favorite band in the world) , and even though he'd gotten tix weeks before (they were quickly sold out a few days later), he was forced to give them up and sell them to a friend so that he could go to the wedding reception instead. My brother grumbled about not seeing the point in going to the reception of some people he didn't even know ("Because they're our friends' daughter, and one day, when it's your turn to get married, they'll be at your wedding, too! And also because they've flown all the way here from California to have this reception, and we've known her parents since way back during our Fremont Thai temple days, and family friends are more important than a rock band!"). So yeah, since he's currently stuck at that angsty, hormonal teenage juncture right now, he wasn't exactly Mr. Friendly that night.




My brother and I basically suffered from a bout of incurable boredom that night, especially since we didn't know anyone at the reception and also because our parents had been sucked into the crowd and were busy talking to friends and socializing. So, we decided to just park ourselves by a row of chairs by the cocktail table and do a little people-watching. Later, in the middle of our perceptive social observations and commentary, we were abruptly disturbed by a very unwelcome distraction.

JASON: Um, did you fart?
LYNN: What? No! Why, did you?
JASON: No, but someone definitely did. Can't you smell it?
LYNN: No, I don't smell anyth- (sniffs in canine-like manner as olfactory nerves are voluntarily revved up a notch) No, wait... aw, man, who dropped that one? Talk about nasty.
JASON: I know, it deserves a WMD* classification.
LYNN: Well, if you say it wasn't you, and I say it definitely wasn't me, then who was it?
JASON: (peering casually over left shoulder before lowering voice) I think it was the lady in the pink dress.
LYNN: (attempting, but failing horribly at peering oh so casually over Jason's shoulder at two elderly women engaged in light conversation)
JASON: See her?
LYNN: (whispering) Which one? There's two of them in pink dresses.
JASON: The one with the big hair.
LYNN: (whispering) They both have big –
JASON: The one with the big feather in her hair.
LYNN: (still whispering) Oh, yeah, I see her. Are you sure it's her?
(HOST suddenly asks the crowd to rise and toast to the bride and groom.)
CROWD: CHAIYO, CHAIYO!!**
BIG-HAIRED, FEATHER-WAVING FART-SUSPECT-CLAD-IN-PINK: (sits down after toast)
JASON: Awww, DUDE. She did it again.
LYNN: Again? I still don't smell anyth-
JASON: Give it a second...
LYNN: (not bothering with the whole whispering bit at this point) Aww, gross! Ew, ew, ew.
(HOST asks the crowd to rise again to toast to the bride and groom’s parents this time.)
CROWD: CHAIYO, CHAIYO!!
BIG-HAIRED, FEATHER-WAVING FART-SUSPECT-CLAD-IN-PINK: (sits down after toast)
LYNN: Lemme guess, she dropped another one?

*NOTE: WMD = Weapon of Mass Destruction
**TRANSLATION: Chaiyo = Hooray

With the exception of the big-haired, feather-waving fart-suspect-clad-in-pink, I thought that the wedding reception went beautifully. The bride was gorgeous, the groom looked great, and seeing as how the reception was held at the Dusit Thani Hotel's Napalai Ballroom, the decorations and embellishments were stunning. The food tasted great, even though I was slightly wary about the caviar (stick to chicken eggs, people, and try to steer clear of fish eggs). I was introduced to more people than I can remember, waied folks I'll probably never see again, and now know that big-haired, feather-waving fart-suspects-clad-in-pink should always be avoided at all costs. Trust me on this one, folks, for your olfactory nerve will thank you immensely.


Check out the Tower of Babel cake!


And here we are, valiantly braving some very lethal FART FUMES.
(Had Donald Rumsfeld been able to get a hold of said fumes, I'm positive he would've been able to hole Osama bin Laden out of hiding ages ago. But that's just my personal, humble opinion.)


(And, sadly, it must be admitted that throughout the entire reception at the Dusit Thani, my Hansonaholic self tried so very hard not to think about the fact that just one measly week before, Hanson had been sleeping under that very roof. Just ONE WEEK before. Oh, the injustice.) =(


Have a good week everyone!



Currently Playing: Stupid by Sarah McLachlan
Currently Reading: Angels and Demons by Dan Brown

Friday, June 11, 2004

Liberation!

If I were God, the skies would be parting and breaking out into a very jubilant chorus of "Hallelujah" right now. Why? Well, because I am ******* done with my senior thesis! Yes, DONE! Hoorah! Ah, but since I am but a lowly human and don't possess any god-like abilities, and because things always have a way of going completely wrong when I least expect them to, rather than breaking out into song, what did the skies decide to do yesterday? They detonated and released a ginormous blast of torrential, tropical monsoon rain (something that would have been nice to look and stare out at had I been snugly cuddled up inside a warm, dry room) just as I was getting out of my car, arms laden with books, folders, loose sheets of paper, my bag, laptop and umbrella. I was going to open up my umbrella, so as to shield off the piercing drops and sheets of rain, but unfortunately both my hands were already preoccupied. Now what's the point in carrying an umbrella if you don't even have an extra hand to use it? Too bad I can't sprout limbs at will or bud body parts. But like I said earlier, me no got no god-like abilities.


I skittered off to room 107 in the pouring rain without much difficulty, since I've been fortunate enough to have had four years to master the tricky art of running to class late in a Thai university skirt, and managed to get there right in the nick of time. But because this is Thailand, and because Thais love to be extra slack with time, no one had yet arrived. Yay. So, I took my sweet time scurrying off to the bathroom to dry my damp hair under the hand dryer. I got a few odd stares from people drifting in and out of the bathroom (more so to check up on the status of their lipstick and straightness of their hair than to actually use the loo), but I didn't care. I had decent hair again. My feet were soaking wet and my shoes were in a sorry state, but my hair was nice and dry. Ahh. And as if sympathizing with my plight, it behaved too! Yes, no frizzies or erratic flyaways, despite the stifling humidity that tends to accompany tropical monsoon weather. If I could pet my hair, I would. Oh wait, I just did. Good hair, good girl. Maybe I should reward her with some steam treatment the next time I go to the salon. What do you think?


In a nutshell, my thesis presentation went absolutely fine. In fact, it went great. I hate giving presentations in Thai, since they have such fancy pants language for formal situations where you have to refer to yourself as "dee chun" and use all these other words that aren't generally used by most people in normal, day-to-day situations. But anyways, I somehow didn't foul up and also managed to give decent answers to all the questions that were thrown at me. You have no idea how relieved I am. I feel like this humungous load has been taken off my chest (that is, if I had a chest to start with). Since I've been tucking it away neatly in the dark, remote recesses of my mind - somewhere behind the Black Eyed Peas concert (which ROCKED, by the way) and the new Harry Potter film - I guess I didn't realize just how much it had been inconspicuously nagging at me until it was finally all done and over with. Mm, that was just a really long, run-on sentence. But I don't care. I am currently too busy tending to overwrought neurons to care about run-on sentences, so sorry if that was difficult to read.


Anyways, they're going to be shelving my paper in the university library. Maybe they'll publish it. How boring. Who in their right mind would stroll into the library and have a sudden and irrepressible desire to read about a study on Sodium Arsenite's effect on osmotic fragility in rat erythrocytes and the potential applications of a diagnostic kit for arsenic poisoning? Someone very boring, maybe. Heh, and since I wrote it, I guess that makes me very, VERY boring.


~*~



Anyhoo, I'm really, really excited at the moment because one of my bestest of buds, Siri Fliri Bananafana Fo Fliri, is gonna be competing in the Miss Siam 2004 pageant this Saturday at the Four Seasons Hotel! Yeah! I'm sooo psyched for her. So if y'all can watch Channel 5 over the Internet by means of broadband, then do so on the 12th at 10 PM Thailand time (11 AM EST), and look out for contestant number 7 (Siriratana Taweechotipatr)!


~*~


My mom has finally returned from her super long trip to Scandinavia and Russia, and guess how many pictures she snapped while she was there? FOUR-HUNDRED AND SEVENTY SIX! Gee, spastic finger much? Her pics have left me positively green with envy... maybe I should forget med school and just bum my way through Europe instead. I could live off of peanuts and live the life of a drifting ar-teest. But then again, that would mean no spare $$$ for chocolate... and I would die. DIE, I say. Oh well, it was a nice romantic thought while it lasted.

(There's a ton of pics here, by the way, so it might take a while to load. Oh, and you can click on the pics to see larger versions of 'em.)


~St. Petersburg~
R U S S I A



Entering St. Petersburg, Russia.


I believe these were taken along the University Embankment (someone please correct me if I'm wrong.
I'm not sure if it was the lighting or my camera, but the blue effect is pretty cool.


Can you spot the prettiest flower?


Matrioshka dolls galore.


The Great Palace and the Great Cascades.
The pics that my mom took of the interior rooms show that they are incredibly opulent. Maybe a little too opulent for my tastes, but gorgeous just the same.


View of the Great Cascade to the Voronikhin Colonnades and the Sea Canal @ the Great Palace.
This pic is very reminiscent of the canal at Versailles Palace in France.


The Lower Park @ the Great Palace.
You can see the Roman Fountain off in the distance.








~Moscow~
R U S S I A



Palace Square
My mom said the European weather was absolutely wild - there'd be dazzling sunlight one minute, and then it'd be dark, foggy, and misty a couple of minutes later. Still, it seems to have provided some rather interesting photographic moments.


Walking through the Kremlin's walls and towers.


Still at the Kremlin...
Now what's up with that sepia-colored sky, hmm?


One of the many cathedrals at the Kremlin Red Square.
Nice blend of middle eastern and western european influences, eh?


Another cathedral.
Okay, so now the sky's suddenly blue again?


Just in case you forget you're in Moscow.










Can you believe that this is their Underground Metro?? Talk about ultra opulent!
The Mayakovskaya, Arbatskaya, and Komsomolskaya-Koltsevaya metro stations are even more ornate in design and detail.


One of the statues at the Ploshchad Revoliutsii station.
My mom also took some pics of the beautiful murals they have painted there. So pretty!



~Stockholm~
S W E D E N



Ye olde Viking ship.


Some more dark and dramatic weather.
Since it was nearly the summer solstice, my mom said it got dark rather late, and sometimes the sun would be out shining until midnight.
This pic was taken at around 1 AM.




Street scenes around Stockholm's city center.












I wish there were more flowers and greenery around Bangkok.
Too bad they'd probably die amidst all the smog.


On the midnight flight out of Stokholm.
Next stop: Denmark!



~Copenhagen~
D E N M A R K









The famous statue commemorating Hans Christian Anderson's the Little Mermaid.
She seems to be waiting for... Prince Eric?


Ah yes, there he is, looking as studly as a cartoon prince can possibly look.


~*~


Okay, that's enough pics for now (before you all pummel me for making your computers crash). I'm off to go get some desperately needed sleep. I'll celebrate the official end of my college education... later. Right now, I. Need. Sleep.

Have a great weekend everyone!




Currently Playing: Nuh Eh Ge Nan Na Eh Ge Nun (OST. The Classic)
Currently Reading: The Unwanted by Kien Nguyen

 
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