The waves, I can hear the faint sounds of waves crashing close by.  I feel the early morning dawn on my skin. I start licking my lips and I can feel sand crunch between my teeth.  There is something next to me. I can feel the warmth of someone next to me.  My mouth is so dry.  My head is pounding. I feel so disoriented. I’m laying on my side. I’m finally able to open my eyes.  I have to blink a few times to let my eyes adjust. I usually wear contacts back in the states, but since I’ve been traveling I’ve stopped wearing my contacts because I only had enough to last me a few months and the humidity really irritated my eyes while I was wearing them and honestly, having perfect eyesight just didn’t seem important anymore.    

I’m finally able to prop myself up on my elbows.  I can feel the soft white sand cradling my arms. I look out in front of me and see the clear blue ocean.  The soft little waves crashing about 10 feet away from me hardly making any sound. I look down at my body.  I”m still wearing my crop top, flowy cotton pants and no shoes. I see where the warmth is coming from. There is a stray dog snuggled up to my hip.  He’s white or at least he used to be white. His fur has a gray tint from living outside his whole life. For some reason I feel like I know this dog.  I reach down and start to pet the top of his head. He’s so soft and warm. His eyes start to open and our eyes meet. His eyes are the brightest blue I’ve ever seen, they’re almost white.  He lets out a huge yawn and props himself up on all fours. He looks at me then looks at the ocean. We’re both sitting there taking in the scenery around us. He rests his head on my shoulder and now I’m petting his snout.  I feel at peace. I feel at ease. I looked to my right and see shop owners starting to open up their businesses for the early morning crowd. Restaurants and bars lined the beach. Everything is made out of bamboo and everyone is wearing shorts and no t-shirt.  Waking up on the beach with no shoes and snuggled up to a wild dog doesn’t feel so scary here or maybe this has become my pattern, my reality; waking up in strange places not knowing how I got there.

I’m starting to sober up a little and I’m feeling extremely flustered.  My snuggle companion catches a whiff of something yummy and runs off down the beach.  I don’t blame him. I’m starving and in need of sustenance. Now I feel really alone and unsettled; the panic is starting to set it.  “Where the fuck am I?  How did I get here? How the fuck did I fall asleep on the beach?”  I’ve seen drunks passed out on the beach before.  I’ve woken up in plenty of places not knowing how I got there or who the other person in the bed is.  But passing out on the beach, this is a first. I try to stand up but my knees buckle so I’m now on my knees looking like I’m about to pray.  I want to pray in this moment. I want to beg someone or something to give me back my memory so I can retrace my steps and figure out my way back to my hostel.

I muster up the courage and the strength to take a full view of my surroundings.  To my surprise there is a security guard sitting to my left about 20 feet away. He stuck out like a sore thumb.  He was wearing a full length jacket which had SECURITY written on the back, long black slacks and black shiny loafers.  His hair was in a crew cut and he was wearing a wedding ring. Yes I could see all of this even though I wasn’t wearing my contacts.  He’s sitting on the edge of a walkway with his head hanging down in front of him. He must’ve heard me because he glanced up and immediately looked my way; our eyes met.  I smiled and he smiled back. He slowly rose and starts making his way towards me. He’s a short Philipino man with smile lines, I’d guess he’s about 40 years old. He says hello and asks me how I’m doing.  I tell him I’m feeling a bit lost and confused. He then goes on to tell me that very late last night he saw me sitting and talking to a dog. He then asked me where I was staying and I couldn’t remember the name of the hostel.  He said he left me with the dog, but later returned and noticed I had fallen asleep on the beach. The man said he stayed nearby the entire night to make sure I was safe. He laughed at the fact that I snuggled with a stray dog all night.  I felt safe in this man's presence. I felt relieved he had stayed nearby to make sure nothing had happened to me. I felt so overwhelmed that I reached out and gave him a huge hug and almost collapsed in his arms. He let me hug him and held me.  “It’s alright, you’re safe”, he said.  

I can’t tell you how many mornings I’ve woken up completely disoriented and filled with anxiety.  I’ve received messages from people the next day with pictures of me in questionable positions doing god knows what because I would drink to excess and black out resulting in not knowing who, what, where or why.  The ease and non judgment this man showed me that day I woke up in a foreign land on the beach covered in white sand and dog hair, still lingers in my heart. Maybe he’s seen it so many times before that it was just another day for him.  Whatever his reasoning, I thank you. Thank you sir for taking care of a total stranger who was too drunk to take care of herself.  

I also want to thank the soft, dirty dog who also stayed by my side all night.  The security guard told me how the dogs are like spirit animals. “They take care of the people in the town,'' he said.  He’s not the first person to mention this on my trip around Southeast Asia. Back in Thailand is where I first discovered the “Thai dog”.  Thai dogs are strays that roam the streets. They look like a cross between a fox and a lab. They have triangle-shaped prick ears and short soft fur.  They range in colors; white, gray, tan or brown. When I was back in Thailand in a place called Pai, a small hippie town in the Mae Hong Soon Province of northern Thailand, I was again very drunk one night and walking alone after all the bars had closed.  I was walking down the one main road that leads to town and this tan Thai dog came running out of the bushes and props himself right next to my feet.  I was completely startled. I thought he was going to attack me, but he looked up at me and started walking and he kept looking back at me like he wanted me to follow him.  I felt his energy. I could feel him protecting me, but from what I did not know.  

We made it to the main road in town and every single shop was closed.  Usually this road was filled with tourists, scooters and locals trying to get you to buy things.  It was dark and quiet, it felt nice for a change. Then out of the shadows I hear a growl, then another Thai dog jumps out and starts barking at me, then another one and another.  We’re now surrounded by a few snarling dogs. The dog that was leading me is now growling back at them standing his ground in front of me. The hair down his middle back is raised and his head is lowered towards the ground like he’s in attack mode.  I can feel my adrenaline pumping and all the blood rushing to my face. I can feel the hair on my neck raising like I’m in attack mode. I look around for a weapon and see a rock nearby and grab it. I’m holding it out in front of me and yelling at the dogs to get away.  Then out of another shadow comes a small Thai man with long black hair and a tiny goatee. He starts yelling at the dogs in Thai and they all scurry away. He looks at me and laughs. “You have a spirit animal guiding you home.” I look down and the tan Thai dog is still in front of me.  The hair on his back starts to relax. I’m laughing now too. I’m laughing because my buzz is completely gone and at the fact that I have this dog leading me back to safety in this foreign little hippie town. We continue down the road to my hostel and once I reach the entrance to the hostel, the dog just looks at me and takes a seat.  I make it to the door of my hostel and close the door. I peek through the curtains to see if the Thai dog is still there. His gaze is still locked on me. Then a few moments later he gets up and walks away.  

These animals, these dogs, showed me something I cannot explain in words.  It’s like they knew. They knew I was in need of protection. I also love how the locals just laugh about it and accept that this is just how life is.  I’m starting to feel the same way about life. I’m better able to just laugh and accept that this is just how life is. Life is, well, you know me and my luck.  

On the last leg of my trip through Southeast Asia, I was bitten by a Thai dog.  I had made my way back to Thailand to attend the Full Moon Party on Koh Phangan.  It’s exactly what the name is, it’s a huge party that happens on the full moon of every month.  Koh Phangan is an island in the Gulf of Thailand in southeast Thailand in Surat Thani Provence.  You can walk the whole perimeter of the island in about 10 hours.  Most people come to Ko Phangan for the full moon party. The island is covered with bars and hostels for all the 20 year olds that are attending the party.  My friend and I found a hostel right next to the beach where the party was hosted. The hostel was covered in graffiti and our room consisted of bunk beds made out of wood and painted black with fluorescent paint splattered all around.  It was the perfect accommodation for the full moon party. Our stay was pretty typical. We met other travelers, partied every night, ate pizza and Thai food and had sex with our bunk mates. We attended the full moon party and got completely wasted and danced all night.  I could feel the final days of my traveling coming to an end. The alcohol wasn’t really working anymore, the fantasy of the foreign island was losing it’s mystery and I was honestly just ready to go home and sleep in my own bed.  

It was the early morning after the full moon party and a bunch of us were sitting in a circle on the beach talking about our travels when a mangy, white Thai dog with a limp came up to us and laid right next to me laying his head on my lap.  I started petting his head and his belly, by this point of my travels I felt a connection to these Thai dogs. They’re my spirit animal and my friend. The pup is getting close to falling asleep, when out of nowhere, one of the guys from our hostel comes running up to us, startling all of us, including the dog.  The dog freaks out and bites the closest thing to it, me.  The dog gets up and limps off down the beach.  Everyone is looking at me with wide eyes. “Why is everyone looking at me?”  My friend points at my arm. I look down and notice a few puncture marks on my wrist.  “Oh it’s nothing.” One of the puncture wounds starts to gush blood. My friend looks worried and says we need to go find a hospital.  I again, try to convince myself and the others that I am fine. “I just need another beer,” I say jokingly. No one is laughing. I start to feel the weight of the situation.  Someone says something about rabies and alarm bells start shooting off in my head.  

My friend and I are now quickly making our way to the main road and looking for a hospital.  The hospital on this island is not your typical hospital. It looks more like a storefront. We quickly make our way inside and explain to the receptionist what happened.  Within minutes I’m meeting with a doctor and the nurse is administering the rabies shot. I’ve since learned that it is a fast acting shot called rabies immune globulin, part of the injection is given near the area where the animal bit you and it’s very important to get the shot as soon as possible.  I would then have to get a series of shots over the next few days. I was able to get a couple in Koh Phangan, then the rest when I got home to the states.

At this point I’m definitely feeling ready to go back home to Los Angeles.  I’m feeling a bit shaken and scared that the dog may have had rabies. The next day after the whole ordeal, I see the mangy dog on the beach again.  Now that I’ve sobered up and it’s daylight, I can see that this dog is in pretty bad shape. He’s white, covered in dirt, missing patches of hair and it looks like his right front paw is broken, which would explain why he walked with a limp.  Seeing him in all his glory definitely played into my fear of contracting rabies. “I mean, of course he has rabies,” I said to my friend, “Just look at him!” I was mad that the dog bit me, but I also couldn’t help but realize that the dog was just being a dog.  I decided to look at this experience as a sign that it was time for me to go home. I felt like a cat with nine lives and I had just crossed out life number eight. I felt it was best to throw in the towel before something irreversible happened.

Once I got home to Los Angeles, I immediately booked an appointment with my doctor.  I got a whole physical and blood work done. I was given a clean bill of health. No rabies, no STDs and no broken bones.  Just a shifted collarbone from a scooter accident and loads of scars covering my body from all my drunken wobbly mistakes, which include almost falling down an open sewer manhole, leaning against the exhaust of a running scooter and falling off the top bunk trying to climb into bed.  

It’s a relief being able to look back at my 20’s and knowing damn well that I lived everyday to the fullest.  I may have been stuffing down past trauma with drugs and alcohol, but I’m sick and tired of feeling guilty for the way I chose to live my life.  It already happened, there is no way to go back in time and change a darn thing. So that’s it. I don’t want to change a thing. I want to write about it, reminisce and laugh about it with my friends and family.  I’m relieved to know that I lived; I’ve seen a lot, I’ve fucked a lot, I’ve drank enough and I’m proud to say that I’m thankful for it all. I’m ready for my 30’s, my 40’s and beyond. I’m excited to explore more and to figure out what else life has in store for me.  I'm ready to be more than just a girl with a crop top on, no shoes and a beer and a cigarette in hand passed out on the beach. That girl with not a care in the world was great and all, but I’m ready to throw her towel in the ring and admit she is defeated. I’m wanting more from life.  I’m ready to get back out there and get my hands dirty with a clear head and own the fact that I’m covered in battle scars that show how far I’ve come.