Ice, Ice Baby

It's so freaky-deaky hot here, that I often find my mind wandering, daydreaming about ice. Seriously, I spent the better part of a 5 hour bus ride in Cambodia fantasizing about having a drink with ice. (It's too risky to have ice here, because you don't know if it's made with purified water.) Or, a snowcone. I would probably be willing to sacrifice part of my liver or my spleen for a giant snowcone, right now. Even a little snowcone from one of those Snoopy Snowcone machines I had when I was little that ended up giving you melty water and big ice chunks instead of a crushed ice treat. Either way, I'd take it.

It's not just icey drinks that fill my head, either. I think about how much I would pay for a big block of ice, so that I could spend the afternoon sitting on it. Is two months salary too much to ask? (Heck, I have a dress made out of bathing suit material that would be just perfect for ice perching.) Or, I daydream about doing the backstroke through a pool of crushed ice, the way some people dream about diamonds. There was once an MTV Gauntlet challenge where the contestants had to melt a giant chunk of ice by sitting on it. I initially found the challenge and the contestants' methods of ice melting a little tacky -- although I did watch every single minute of the episode, probably more than once. I now think they were the luckiest goofs on the face of the earth.

Sometimes, I'll think about the places in Dubai where you can pay to ski indoors. Or, how some people in Dubai once threw a special man made winter carnival so that the local children could see snow for the first time and toss snowballs at one and other. That would be really cool. Of course, United Arab Emirates is rich beyond belief with oil, and Vietnam ... well, not so much. So, regrettably, I think the likelihood of any snowball fights in my near future is quite dubious.

I could fly back to Argentina and hang out with the icebergs again. (It would be nice to have some steak or jamon y queso, instead of noodles noodles noodles. At this point, I'm pretty much over noodles.) But, I'd want to sit on the iceberg in my bathing suit, and I think you could get tossed out of the country for those kinds of shenanigans. (Unless I pretended it was some sort of protest...Argentines love themselves a good strike or protest.)