Paperback thrillers.

Looking back over the span that my entries have covered, and the words therein, I can't help but feel that my last entry was... a weak description of life here. Let me give this another go.

The days are laid back here in Koh Chang. This is island life after all. Each day is hot and humid. The heat of the afternoon is oppressive and it seems that everyone, including the dogs, look to escape its dousing of rays that burn and moisture that seeps through the air.

My first day here I walked the Bang Bao docks and passed shops on stilts selling knockoff Armani, Dior, and Gucci sunglasses (does this make me obsessive compulsive: that I feel the need to backspace my previous arrangement and place those imitation brand names in alphabetical order?), Billabong boardshorts, spaghetti and meatball dinners, tropical fruit, and diving lessons; but the owners of these one room stores did not aggressively push their merchandise in your face. Instead they sat in the shade and fanned their face. Some even laid in hammocks taking one o'clock, two o'clock, and three o'clock naps.

After three nights, I find myself slowly slipping into a similar mindset, and thinking back over the past few days I can't remember doing much of anything at all. They have passed uneventfully, but uneventful on an island, is perhaps exactly what you can expect to find.

My bungalow has a double bed with a mosquito net draped across the ceiling (in case I find the need), a three speed fan mounted on the wall that oscillates through the night, and a shower with hot water -- though a cool shower after the hot air soaks your skin is much nicer.

After a swim, or maybe just a cool shower, a favorite of mine is the forest green hammock which hangs in the shade merely 10 steps from my front door. With a paperback thriller (The Bourne Identity) in my hand I lie there and continue to do nothing at all.

I rarely will read books like this; and not to make a cocky statement, but even in reading -- what you put in is what you get out. Being on Koh Chang though, I don't really have much choice.

Even so, I find that in pouring through these pages, I am pleasantly brought back to Channahon public library trips at thirteen and fourteen years old to find a Michael Crichton or Star Wars novel (yes, this officially classifies me as a nerd), and also memories of discussions that followed these reads with good friends (now I am officially a super nerd).

Somehow, from my hammock by the sea, I don't mind.